On any but the larger-scale mai of the Ordnance Survey the Treshnish Isles appear as an insignificant cluster of tiny dots to the west of the island of Mull, Argyll. They are uninhabited by human beings, but the islands teem with interesting wild life. Bird-watchers look upon Lunga, the central island of the group, as something of a Mecca for their studies. Puffins and kittiwakes nest there in thousands, the fulmar petrel has colonized the island in recent years, and night on Lunga is never silent in the summer months because of the crooning of the little storm petrels among the stones and the unearibly crying of Manx shearwaters. Buzzards, ravens, and peregrines are common, and in winter, when so many of the nesting birds have disappeared, the islands become the grazing-ground of an immense flock of barnacle geese, states Dr. F. Fraser Darling in the "Manchester Guardian,"
My wife and 1 have not only been ble io watch the of bird life on the Treshnish in summer and winter but we have been there throughout the breeding of the most magnifi f wild mammals, the grey or Atlantic seal. We lived near to them, iorce,.in our four months' study their breeding habits, Tent canvas keeps out none of the sounds of the island night, so that when we lay in our sleeping-bogs the wild crying of the seals joined with the boom of the swell as a constant background to our life. The seals cry in a high falsetto, full-throated, swelling and finishing, and this chorus takes its place in our minds along with two others of nature's memorable sounds—the roaring of many stags in a Highland glen on a frosty night of October and the surge of raucous cries which rises as one beautiful sound from a sea-bird cliff on a June morning.
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.