After remaining a time to admire the view, which alone would fully repay one for the journey to St. Kilda, I returned to the village laden with the spoils. The whole island is covered with little stone hovels, which are built partly as a protection for the sheep during the gales, and partly to dry the turf, which is used for burning, as there is no real peat in the island. The sheep are of a peculiar sort, not unlike those which were kept by the crofters in most of the Hebrides before the introduction of the improved breeds, and have very fine wool, which is sometimes of a light- brown dun colour. This sort, however, is not very common; and the wool is in great request, as the rent is paid principally in wool and feathers. The factor of the island, who lives in Skye, comes every year in June, and remains until August or September, taking away with him all the spare produce of the island; and as this is the only regular communication with the rest of the world, the people depend on him for everything which they cannot make themselves. The present proprietor, Mr. Macleod, is a very liberal landlord, and the condition of the islanders has improved immensely during the last thirty years, so that they are now much better housed and fed than most of the Hebrideans.
After visiting a few of the houses, and examining all the objects of interest, I returned to the Harpy to deposit my birds and eggs, and found most of the older men collected on board begging for tobacco, sugar and other things, though they did not seem very anxious to give us anything in exchange.
Some of the man-of-war’s men had been collecting eggs on shore; and this excited the indignation of the older men, who considered it in the light of stealing their property. After we had pacified them with some small presents of tobacco and sugar, I showed them the pictures in my Yarrell, among others pointing out the fork-tailed petrel. This, however, they did not seem to distinguish by any peculiar name from the stormy petrel, which is common enough, and is here called “Assilag,” The petrels are too small to be of any use for food, and are probably not much seen by the natives, especially as they only come out at night; but the pictures of all the other birds which are found here were at once recog¬ nised, and the Gaelic names given. The kittiwake, which is by far the most common of the Laridæ, is called “Ruideag"; the guillemot, “Lam- haidh” (pronounced “Lavie”), and the puffin, “Bougir,” are also in countless numbers, and, as food, are esteemed next to the fulmar and gannet. The name “fulmar,” which is pronounced here as a word of three syllables, “ful-a-mair,” is the only case I know of, besides the ptarmigan and capercaillie, in which our common English name is taken from the Gaelic.
The shearwater (Puffinus anglorum), which is here called “Scrapire,” is by no means plentiful, and only breeds on Soay, where we were unable to land owing to the heavy swell; but as I was anxious to get some of the petrels, we took the ship’s boat and landed on Dun with some of the natives. This island, which forms the southern horn of the harbour, is the principal preserve of the puffins, whose burrows cover the whole island like a rabbit-warren. Immense numbers were sitting everywhere, flying up as we approached and settling again behind us. They had only