er
the surface of the fjord into some one of the sheltering nooks along
the irregular shore. We were further told a curious fact, if fact it
be, that the young ducks of the female species, almost as soon as
they are able to fly, begin to practise the habit of carrying
something upon their backs. That is to say, they are not infrequently
found skimming along the surface of the water with a small wad of
sea-weed, such as is used by aquatic birds in nest-building,
carefully supported between their wings. Just so little girls are
prone to pet a doll, the maternal instinct exhibiting itself in early
childhood. The male and female birds are easily distinguished from
each other by the difference in their plumage. The former do not show
this inclination for carrying baby burdens, neither do young boys
display a predilection for dolls! We commend these facts to the
notice of naturalists.

About forty miles northward from Hammerfest is situated what is
called Bird Island, a hoary mass of rock, famous as a breeding place
of various sea-birds, and where the nests of many thousands are to be
seen. This huge cliff rises abruptly to the height of over a thousand
feet from the surrounding ocean. Its seaward face being nearly
perpendicular is yet so creviced as to afford lodgement for the
birds, and it is literally covered by their nests from base to top.
The Norwegians call the island Svaerholtklubben. It is customary for
excursion steamers to "make" this island in their course to the North
Cape, and to stand off and on for an hour to give passengers an
opportunity to observe the birds and their interesting habits. The
ship's cannon is fired also, when the echoes of its single report
become myriad, reverberating through the caves and broad chasms of
the rock, starting forth the feathered tribes, until the air is as
full of them as of flakes in an Arctic snow-storm. The echoes mingle
with the harsh, wailing screams, and roar of wings become almost
deafening as the birds wheel in clouds above the ship, or sail
swiftly away and return again like a flash to join their young, whose
tiny white heads may be seen peeping anxiously above the sides of the
nests. One or two dwelling-houses, surrounded by a few small sheds,
are to be seen in a little valley near the water's edge on the lee
side of Bird Island, where a dozen persons more or less make their
dreary home. These residents send off fresh milk by a boat to the
passing steamer, though h