and seventy-eight of them. Many more of them were killed but dropped
into inaccessible places or into the water and could not be saved.

The sound of the fusilade from over twenty gunners must have resembled
a small battle, but it did not drive the birds away, and as we left
they seemed thicker than ever. Not only was the air alive with them,
but as one walked along the cliffs they would dart swiftly out of
holes in the rocks or crevices, so the earth, too, seemed full of
them. It was great sport for a time, but soon seemed too much like
slaughter, and we would let the awkward puffins, with their foolish
eyes and Roman noses, come blundering along within a few feet of our
muzzles, and chose rather the graceful, swift motioned auks and
guillemots, whose rapid flight made them far more sportsmanlike game.

The next day, though Sunday, had to be spent in taking care of the
best specimens, and the game was not fully disposed of for several
days. Our bill of fare was correspondingly improved for a few days.

Three days were consumed in beating up to Rigolette. At Indian Harbor
we had heard rumors of the return of some party from Grand River on
account of injuries received by one of the men, but the description
applied best to the second party, and we decided it must refer to
Bryant or Kenaston. Near Turner's Cove we found more rumors, but
nothing definite enough to satisfy our growing anxiety, and at last,
unable to bear the suspense any longer, three of the party took a boat
and started to row the fifteen miles between us and Rigolette, while
the vessel waited for a change of tide and a breeze.

Alternate hope and fear lent strength to our arms as we drove the
light boat along, and soon we came in sight of the wharf. There we