nnually visited by hundreds of ships from England, France,
Spain, Holland, and Portugal; and these ships actually were accustomed
to provision themselves with the bodies and eggs of these birds, which
they found breeding in myriads on the low islands off the coast of
Newfoundland. Besides the fresh birds consumed by the ship's crew, many
tons were salted down for further use. In the space of an hour, these
old voyagers tell us, they could fill thirty boats with the birds. It
was only necessary to go on shore, armed with sticks to kill as many as
they chose. The birds were so stupid that they allowed themselves to be
taken up, on their own proper element, by boats under sail; and it is
even said that on putting out a plank it was possible to drive the Great
Auks up and out of the sea into boats. On land the sailors formed low
enclosures of stones, into which they drove the Penguins [or Auks], and,
as they were unable to fly, kept them there enclosed till they were
wanted for the table."

"In 1841, a distinguished Norwegian naturalist, (too early, alas! lost
to science,) Peter Stuwitz, visited Tunk Island, or Penguin Island,
lying to the east of Newfoundland. Here, on the north-west shore of the
island, he found enormous heaps of bones and skeletons of the Great Auk,
lying either in exposed masses or slightly covered by the earth. On this
side of the island the rocks slope gradually down to the shore; and here
were still standing the stone fences and enclosures into which the birds
were driven for slaughter."[66]

It is just possible that the bird may yet haunt the inaccessible coast
of East Greenland, but ships sailing between that country and Iceland
never meet with it at sea. Nor did Graah observe it during his toilsome
researches east of Cape Farewell. The numerous fishing craft that every
season crowd the shores of Newfoundland and Labrador forbid the notion
that it yet lingers there; for the great market-value set upon the bird
and its eggs for collections would prevent its existence there from
being overlooked. The numerous Polar voyages of discovery, and the
annual fleets of whalers, would certainly have discovered it, if it
still haunted the more northern regions. It is possible that a few
isolated individuals may still survive; but it is the habit of the bird,
as of most sea-fowl, to breed in society in bare seaward rocks, and the
circumstance that no breeding station is known to be now frequented by
the Great