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$Unique_ID{BRD00779}
$Pretitle{}
$Title{The Foolish Guillemot.--Murre.}
$Subject{Alcinae; Uria; Troile; aalge; Foolish Guillemot; Murre; Common Murre}
$Journal{Birds of America: Volume VII}
$Volume{Vol. 7:267-272}
$Family{Alcinae}
$Genus{Uria}
$Species{Troile; aalge}
$Common_Name{Foolish Guillemot; Murre; Common Murre}
$Log{
Plate CCCCLXXIII*00779P1.scf
Family*00762.txt
Genus*00775.txt
}
Portions copyright (c) Creative Multimedia Corp., 1990-91, 1992
B I R D S O F A M E R I C A .
By John James Audubon, F. R. SS. L. & E.
------------------------------------------
VOL. VII.
--------------------------------
THE FOOLISH GUILLEMOT.--MURRE.
[Common Murre.]
URIA TROILE, Linn.
[Uria aalge.]
PLATE CCCCLXXIII.--MALE AND FEMALE.
This bird is seldom found farther south than the entrance of the Bay of New
York, where, however, it appears only during severe winters, for being one of
the most hardy inhabitants of the northern regions, its constitution is such as
to enable it to bear without injury the rigours of their wintry climates. About
the bays near Boston the Guillemots are seen every year in greater or less
numbers, and from thence to the eastward they become gradually more abundant. A
very old gunner whom I employed while at Boston, during the winter of 1832-3,
assured me, that when he was a young man, this species bred on many of the rocky
islands about the mouth of the bay there; but that for about twenty years back
none remained after the first days of April, when they departed for the north in
company with the Thick-billed Guillemot, the Common Auk, the Puffin, and the
Eider and King Ducks, all of which visit these bays in hard weather. In the Bay
of Fundy, the Foolish Guillemot is very numerous, and is known by the name of
Murre, which it retains among all the eggers and fishermen of Newfoundland and
Labrador, where it breeds in myriads. To those countries, then, I must lead
you, good reader, as there we can with ease study the habits of these birds.
Stay on the deck of the Ripley by my side this clear and cold morning. See
how swiftly scuds our gallant bark, as she cuts her way through the foaming
billows, now inclining to the right and again to the left. Far in the east,
dark banks of low clouds indicate foul weather to the wary mariner, who watches
the approach of a northern storm with anxiety. Suddenly the wind changes; but
for this he has prepared; the topsails are snugged to their yards, and the rest
are securely reefed. A thick fog obscures all around us. The waters suddenly
checked in their former course, furiously war against those which now strike
them in front. The uproar increases, the bark is tossed on every side; now a
sweeping wave rushes against the bows, the vessel quivers, while down along her
deck violently pour the waters, rolling from side to side, seeking for a place
by which they may escape. At this moment all about you are in dismay save the
Guillemots. The sea is covered with these intrepid navigators of the deep.
Over each tumultuous billow they swim unconcerned on the very spray at the bow
of the vessel, and plunging as if with pleasure, up they come next moment at the
rudder. Others fly around in large circles, while thousands contend with the
breeze, moving directly against it in long lines, towards regions unknown to
all, save themselves and some other species of sea birds.
The Guillemots pair during their migrations;--many of them at least do so.
While on my way toward Labrador, they were constantly within sight, gambolling
over the surface of the water, the males courting the females, and the latter
receiving the caresses of their mates. These would at times rise erect in the
sea, swell their throats, and emit a hoarse puffing guttural note, to which the
females at once responded, with numerous noddings to their beaux. Then the pair
would rise, take a round in the air, re-alight, and seal the conjugal compact;
after which they flew or swam together for the season, and so closely, that
among multitudes on the wing or on the waves, one might easily distinguish a
mated pair.
Not far from Great Macatina Harbour lie the Murre Rocks, consisting of
several low islands, destitute of vegetation, and not rising high from the
waters. There thousands of Guillemots annually assemble in the beginning of
May, to deposit each its single egg, and raise its young. As you approach these
islands, the air becomes darkened with the multitudes of birds that fly about;
every square foot of the ground seems to be occupied by a Guillemot planted
erect as it were on the granite rock, but carefully warming its cherished egg.
All look toward the south, and if you are fronting them, the snowy white of
their bodies produces a very remarkable effect, for the birds at some distance
look as if they were destitute of head, so much does that part assimilate with
the dark hue of the rocks on which they stand. On the other hand, if you
approach them in the rear, the isle appears as if covered with a black pall.
Now land, and witness the consternation of the settlers! Each affrighted
leaves its egg, hastily runs a few steps, and launches into the air in silence.
Thrice around you they rapidly pass, to discover the object of your unwelcome
visit. If you begin to gather their eggs, or, still worse, to break them, in
order that they may lay others which you can pick up fresh, the Guillemots all
alight at some distance, on the bosom of the deep, and anxiously await your
departure. Eggs, green and white, and almost of every colour, are lying thick
over the whole rock; the ordure of the birds mingled with feathers, with the
refuse of half-hatched eggs partially sucked by rapacious Gulls, and with putrid
or dried carcasses of Guillemots, produces an intolerable stench; and no sooner
are all your baskets filled with eggs, than you are glad to abandon the isle to
its proper owners.
On one occasion, whilst at anchor at Great Macatina, one of our boats was
sent for eggs. The sailors had eight miles to pull before reaching the Murre
Islands, and yet ere many hours had elapsed, the boat was again alongside,
loaded to a few inches of the gunwale, with 2500 eggs! Many of them, however,
being addle, were thrown overboard. The order given to the tars had been to
bring only a few dozens; but, as they said, they had forgotten!
The eggs are unaccountably large for the size of the bird, their average
length being three inches and three-eighths, and their greatest breadth two
inches. They are pyriform or elongated, with a slight compression towards the
smaller end, which again rather swells and is rounded at the extremity. They
afford excellent food, being highly nutritive and palatable, whether boiled,
roasted, poached, or in omelets. The shell is rough to the touch, although not
granulated. Some are of a lively verdigris colour, others of different tints,
but all curiously splashed, as it were, with streaks or blotches of dark umber
and brown. My opinion, however, is, that, when first dropped, they are always
pure white, for on opening a good number of these birds, I found several
containing an egg ready for being laid, and of a pure white colour. The shell
is so firm that it does not easily break, and I have seen a quantity of these
eggs very carelessly removed from a basket into a boat without being damaged.
They are collected in astonishing quantities by "the eggers," and sent to
distant markets, where they are sold at from one to three cents each.
Although the Guillemots are continually harassed, their eggs being carried
off as soon as they are deposited, and as long as the birds can produce them,
yet they return to the same islands year after year, and, notwithstanding all
the eff