Indeed, our Saxon

are trained. The male is called the tercel. ancestors must have had some lofty sport. Wish I had been there! The jer-falcon, our Iceland bird, is not by any means confined to his native cliffs. Iceland is four or five hundred miles from Scotland, but only a morning's flight for this fleet traveller! He could take his breakfast in his native wilds, with the sun high in the heavens, fly over to Scotland, dine on a ptarmigan or a rock-dove, sleep through the heat of the day, and return to Iceland long before sunset. Such is the flight of this powerful, swift-winged bird of prey.

CHAPTER XXII.

THE FAROE ISLES.

"It is a wild and wondrous scene,

Where few but nature's footsteps yet have been."

In our outward as well as return voyage we passed near the Faroe islands. These, like Iceland, are under the jurisdiction of Denmark, and, though near 300 miles from their northern neighbour, have many features in common with it. The scenery is singularly wild and picturesque. We sailed nearly under some of the tall cliffs, and could plainly see the pillared columns of basalt, so common throughout Iceland and nearly all the northern isles. From conversation with two English gentlemen that I met a short time since, who had just returned from Faroe, where they had been "birds' nesting,"* and from one or two authentic narratives, I gathered some interesting particulars of their topography and history. The Faroe Isles are probably less known to modern travellers than any inhabited land in the northern sea. Many there are that visit Greenland-some catching whales and seal; a few to convert the heathen; some on a scientific tour; and, latterly, many in search of a distinguished navigator and the hapless crews of two long missing ships —and not unfrequently do civilized men land on the bleak and frozen shores of Spitzbergen; and any one can visit Lapland by steam; but one may go round the world and not meet a Christian man that has stepped on one of the seventeen of the inhabited islands of Faroe. The whole group consists of twenty

* Obtaining birds' eggs of every variety that could be had, for an ornithological collection.

five islands, extending about sixty-five miles from north to south, and forty-five from east to west; and containing a little less than a thousand square miles. They lie between 61° 26′′ and 62° 25" N. Latitude, and 6° 40" and 7° 40" West Longitude from Greenwich. They are 185 miles north-west of Shetland, and 400 from Norway. So much for their location and size. The surface of the different islands varies in appearance considerably, but they have all remarkably bold, perpendicular banks. The north-eastern one, Fugloe-or Bird-island-is quite flat on the top; but the banks on every side are high and perpendicular, so that boats must always be raised and lowered with ropes. Oesteroe, the largest but one, is the highest of the entire group, rising 3000 feet above the level of the sea. On some parts of its precipitous cliffs are majestic octagonal pillars of basaltic rock, a hundred feet high and six feet in diameter. Were these in a land of population and wealth they would undoubtedly be selected by builders, and be seen supporting and adorning the porticoes of temples of Grecian or Roman architecture. One of these pillars, sixty feet in length, has fallen across a deep chasm, and forms a natural bridge from one side to the other. Another enormous mass of rock, twenty-four feet long by eighteen broad, is so exactly balanced across another that the strength of a finger will vibrate it; and, though the waves have been dashing against it for ages, there it remains, poised on a pivot, like the famous rocking stone in Cornwall.

Stromoe, south of Oesteroe, is the largest of the Faroe group, and is 27 miles long by about 7 broad, and contains 140 square miles. On this island is Thorshaven, the capital and principal seaport. The Danish post-ship between Denmark and Iceland, lands here twice or three times in a year. Thorshaven has a church, and about 100 dwellings; some of them comfortable framed houses. This important place is well protected by a substantial fort-an excellent fortification, that lacks but one essential article, cannon! However, there is little chance that they would

ever be needed did they have them. Were there any thing here worth the trouble of an invading army or a piratical crew, at the most favourable landing on the islands, the natives would stand a good chance to crush their invaders with their natural means of defence, and keep them off by rolling stones down upon them. But what freaks old Nature plays here among these tall cliffs! What houses for sea-monsters does old Ocean create! The island of Nalsoe is pierced from side to side, so that in calm weather a boat can sail through it, under a natural arch, with near 2000 feet of solid rock overhead. At the northern end of Stromoe is the promontory of Myling, which rises perpendicularly to the height of 2500 feet. If the spectator had nerve enough, he might go to the brink, and toss a pebble clear into the sea from the lofty summit. One singular rock in this group of islands, rises out of the water like a lofty spire, and is called by the natives the Trollekone-finger, or witch's finger. The most western of the islands is Myggeness; and, though inhabited, is so difficult of access that communication between that and the rest of the group is not usually more than three or four times a year. It is surrounded by precipitous cliffs, from 1200 to 1400 feet in height; and the passage or fiorth between this and the neighbouring island is the most dangerous in the group. Off Myggeness, is Myggeness-holm,—a precipitous rock standing alone in the sea, like a solitary sentinel attendant on the larger isle. Any one who has seen the Meal-sack island off the southwest coast of Iceland, or the Holm of the Noss in the Shetland group, or Ailsa Craig in the Clyde, will have an idea of the appearance of this rocky islet. This is the only island in the Faroe group where the Gannet, or Solan Goose, builds its nest. The choice of such a location as this, or Ailsa Craig, or the Mealsack-all favourite localities of this bird-is not altogether from the generally inaccessible nature of the place, and its consequent immunity from hostile man-though this is some consideration. These haunts of the gannet are always near a good "run" of fish,

THE VOGELBERG-SEA BIRDS.

179

and this is usually where there is a strong flow of the tide between two islands, or between an island and the main shore. Graba, a late traveller in Faroe, speaks of landing on the small island of Store Dimon. He says the clergyman visits this island but once a year, and the sides are so steep they have to pull him up with ropes as they would a bag of meal. When Graba landed, the natives pushed one of their number up the rocks with their long sticks that they use in bird-catching, and then he drew up the rest. In this way they all passed from one cliff to another, till they arrived at the top, 250 feet above the water. The steepness of the rock was fully appreciated on their return, when a basket of eggs was let down into the boat by a rope. In passing up and down, they sometimes walked on a narrow shelf of rock; and when this ceased, the "highway" was continued by having holes cut in the perpendicular face of the cliff, once in two or three feet, for the fingers and toes. Along this frightful precipice, a drunken native passed in safety with a sack of barley on his back.

One of the great natural curiosities of the islands, is the Vogelberg; a terrible chasm of an elliptical form, almost entirely surrounded by rocks at least a thousand feet in height. The entrance is by a narrow passage at one end; and here in this remarkable house, with the sea for a floor and the sky for a roof, are thousands of birds. Sheltered from every wind, the boat glides along with perfect safety. Gulls and guillemots swim by without fear; the seal looks from his watery cave in fancied security; and the lazy cormorant stretches out his neck to scan the appearance of the newly-arrived visiters. Long lines of kittiwakes show their white breasts and dovelike eyes; from narrow shelves of the rock, nest succeeds nest, and the downy young appear in frightful proximity to the edge of the precipice beneath. puffins take the highest stations, perhaps because they are puffed up with ideas of their own importance, being favourites of man, and often captured for their flesh and feathers. In sheltered

The