they go. If they are only to stay in the same spot for a day or two,
they gather all the eggs they can, put them into water, and throw away
every one that floats. Sometimes three, four, five or even ten times
as many are thrown away as are kept, and all those bird lives lost for
nothing. Worse still, if the men are going to stay long enough they
will often go round the nests and make sure of smashing every single
egg. Then they come back in a few days and gather every single egg,
because they know it has been laid in the mean time and must be
fresh. When we remember how many thousands of men visit the shore, and
that the resident population eggs on its own account, at least as high
up as the Pilgrims, only 100 miles from Quebec, we need not be
prophets to foresee the inevitable end of all bird life when subjected
to such a drain. And this is on the St. Lawrence, where there are laws
and wardens and fewer fishermen. What about the Atlantic Labrador,
where there are no laws, no wardens, many more fishermen, and ruthless
competitive egging between the residents and visitors? Of course,
where people must egg or starve there is nothing more to be said. But
this sort of egging is very limited, not enough to destroy the birds,
and the necessity for it will become less frequent as other sources of
supply become available. It is the utterly wanton destruction that is
the real trouble.

And it is just as bad with the birds as with the eggs. A schooner
captain says, "Now, boys, here's your butcher shop: help yourselves!"
and this, remember, is in the brooding season. Not long ago the men
from a vessel in Cross harbour landed on an islet full of eiders and
killed every single brooding mother. Such men have grown up to this,
and there is that amount of excuse for them. Besides, they ate the
birds, though they destroyed the broods. Yet, as they always say, "We
don't know no law here," it may be suspected that they do know there