“Away flew the bird just as I was about to lay him on my knee; he actually slipped out from amongst my very fingers. I fired both barrels as soon as I could get a hold of my gun, sitting though I was. But on the bird went, whistling as he flew, despite the dangling of his shattered limb, but whether in derision at my stupidity, or exulting in his own miraculous and fortunate escape, I cannot tell. Reaching the burn mouth of Boyndie, he again alighted amongst the tumbling waves there. It was now gloaming, and what between one thing or other, I was rather like an aspen leaf than anything else. Follow, however, I did; I searched the place, and was just on the eve of giving up the pursuit as hopeless—having, as I thought, beat the ground over and over again to no purpose,—when up rose the bird from amongst my very feet. Both barrels were again emptied, but with little apparent effect. The last one made him scream somewhat harshly, and falter a little in his flight, but that was all. On he sped. Darkness now put an end to any further operations for that day. Next day, however, and for many days after, I was out, but, although I searched the coast as far as the sands of Whitehills on the one side, and the burn of Melrose on the other, I could find no traces of the bird. And thus I lost perhaps one of the greatest ornithological rarities that has ever visited the district.”
One of the most vivid descriptions which Edward inserted in the Banffshire Journal, was a narrative of a day’s adventures on Gamrie Head. The editor, in introducing it to his readers, said that it reads not unlike a chapter of Audubon or Wilson. The reader will judge for himself:—
EXCURSION TO GAMRIE.
“Having promised to visit some friends in Gardenstown to partake of their hospitality during the festive season of the New Year, I left home with that object on the morning of the 31st of December 1850. I passed through Macduff, and took the path which leads along the cliffs, hoping thereby to meet with something rare or strange in the ornithological world, and worthy of my shot. In this way I had nearly reached the highest point of Gamrie Head without meeting with anything but the common tenants of these rocky braes, when my attention was attracted by the screaming of a number of birds at the bottom of the cliff. On looking over I observed that they consisted of several hooded and carrion crows, together with two ravens, two Iceland gulls (Laurus Islandicus), and a number of other dark-coloured gulls, apparently immature specimens of the great black-backed species, one of which, in perfect plumage, was standing and picking at an object floating in the water close to the rock, and about which all the other birds were screaming. It appeared to me, and it afterwards proved to be the case, that they were making food of the object about which they were fighting; but the black-backed bird kept them all at bay, allowing none to approach, not even the ravens themselves.
GAMRIE HEAD.
A FOX’S LAIR.
“Having feasted my eyes for a while on the Icelanders, the thought struck me that I would descend the cliff in order to procure one of them if possible, and also to get a nearer view of the object which had drawn the various birds together. Accordingly, observing a narrow track near me, I commenced my descent, but I had only proceeded a short distance when I found myself on the brink of a precipice. I was about to return, when, accidentally looking over, I observed a portion of the rock jutting out a little beyond the one on which I stood, and about four feet and a half below it. I now concluded that, if I could gain this rock, I would still find the path to enable me to continue downwards. With these hopes, and having laid down my gun, I swung myself down upon the rock. I had no sooner done so, than I heard a low growl, as if proceeding from a rabid dog; and on looking along the rock, I was a good deal surprised at seeing two foxes standing in a rather slouching attitude at the other end of the shelf, apparently very much discomfited at my unwarrantable intrusion.
“Another look at the place and its surly occupants was enough to convince me of the unmistakable truth that, instead of having met with a path leading to the bottom of the cliffs, I had only found one to a fox’s lair. My first impulse was to ascend the rocks, but in this I was completely baffled. The brow of the cliff to which I wished to ascend, was fully as high as my breast, and overhung the rock on which I stood. I had nothing of the nature of a step to put my foot on to aid myself up, and nothing to lay hold of with my hands but small tufts of withered grass and some small stones, all of which gave way so soon as any stress was put upon them. The last and the only remaining object within my reach was a stone about twice as large as my head, and partially embedded amongst the grass. I took hold of the big stone with both hands, and succeeded in drawing myself about half-way up when it suddenly gave way. The stone came into collision with my right shoulder, and would in all likelihood have borne me along with it to the bottom of the cliff, had it not been that at that instant I got hold of a short tuft of heath with my mouth, by the aid of which, and by using my fingers as a beast would its claws, I was enabled to regain my former position.
DRIVES OUT THE FOXES.