The grass growing upon the Fame Island itself is coarse and poor, and as much of it is never touched by the rabbits, one year's growth has to force its way through the dead and matted mass of another, until the whole feels like walking on a huge fleece of wool. The watchers keep a number of cral)-})ots constantly in the sea, whilst they are looking after

the birds, and we frequently enjoyed a fine crustacean for tea. I have met people with an inclination to discount the feat of the heroine of the Longstone Lighthouse, but I have no sympathy with them for after having rolled about the bottom of a boat like a live trout in a creel, and watched sea-water run almost continually off my l)r(jther's cliin, as if it had been transformed into the spout of a tea kettle, in consequence of his refusal to keep his head below her weather gunwale and be made a prisoner beneath her if she succeeded in turning over, during half a gale of wind in those parts, I have nothing but admiration for the frail girl and her heroic deed. Long may her memory last

THE LONGSTONE LIGHTHOUSE.

CHAPTER XI.

OUR ^METHODS OF PIIOTOGRArHY.

AS we are often asked how we obtain our pictures, ^^^^ and do not believe in withholding- any information likely to be useful to tlioso who desire to share in the fascinating- pastime of making- studies from the great Book of Nature, I propose in this chapter to tell how we do our field work.

The great points about successful natuial histoiy photography are: the possession of suitable apparatus to work with, an aptitude for taking- care in stalking timid creatures, and plenty of patience and determination to wait for and get what is wanted in spite of obstacles. The illustration on the following page shows our working plant. We take all our photographs with a half-plate camera. The one represented in the picture was specially built for us by Dallmeyer, and contains a pneumatically-worked silent shutter between the lens and the sensitised plate, in addition to a focal plane one, also worked by compressed air at the back. The adjustable miniature camera on the top is of the same focus as that t)eneath it, and is extremely useful in uuiking pictiu-cs of flying-birds or restless animals. A'lien it is in use, the large camera is charged with a plate ready for exposure, and the photographer manipulates the focussing screw, which moves both in exact ratio

at the same time with one hand, whilst he hokls the air-ball attached to the pneumatic tube in the other and presses directly a suitable opportunity presents itself. Our indiarubber tubing measures about one hundred feet in length, and is joined in

OUR OUTFIT.

five or six j^laces by hollow pieces of metal, so that almost any length can be used, according to circumstances. Our climbing ropes are two hundred feet each in length, and an inch and a half and two inches, respectively, in circumference. They were specially manufactured for us from the best Manilla hemp.

by Messrs. Galloway, Matthews & Co., of Appold Street, E.C. The thicker, or descending- rope, has three loops at its end formed by plaiting- the strands of which it is made, and then lashing- them firmly to the rope above. These the climber puts roiuid his hips as shown in our illustration of the method of descending" a cliff, and practically sits in them. The revolver is used for the prosaic and harmless purpose of making- a loud report at the top of any cliff in the face of which there is reason for believing some bird's nest, which we desire to photograph, is situated, so that by frightening its t)wner off we may locate the exact s^^ot at which to make a descent. The climbing irons are very useful in ascending tall trees to examine the nests of such birds METHOD OF DESCENDING A CLIFF. as build in elevated situations; but my brother, who is a good gynniast and can climb almost any sort of growing tind)cr without assistance, has no great partiality for them. A good pair of field-glasses are indis])ensable, and more than doiilde the pleasure and })r()lit of a

-._ 1 ^

ramble along the countryside. I have a pair of Dolland'8, which make me envied by every sea captain who has the good fortmie to look through them. One clear day last summer Grace Darling's nephew said to me, as we stood at the foot of St. Cuthbert's Tower, on the Fame, "I can see the halliard rope swing from the Longstone Lighthouse flagstaff [which is two miles away] with your glasses, sir." I was incredulous, but this frame of mind soon turned to one of astonishment when I looked for myself and saw it bellying in the wind. We use a j^owerful bull's-eye lantern for discovering and focussing birds on their natural roosts during dark winter nights, and a small looking-glass with an adjustable handle for attaching to the end of a rod, or long stick, and examining the interiors of such nests as are situated on branches too slender to bear the weight of the climber. Cliff photography, although really not very dangerous, is at first rather trying to the nerves, as I can testify from experience, having literally walked backwards— of course, with the ropes on over the edge of a perpendicular precii)ice seventy feet deep, in order to be in a i)osition to understand and appreciate the sensations of this branch of my brother's work. Upon reaching a cliff' which ^'e desire to descend, and having located the exact ^^osition of the nest to be photographed, we drive a moderate-sized crowbar from twelve to eighteen inches into the ground at distances varying from four or five to ten or twelve feet away from its edge, according t(j circumstances, and slo])iiig sliglitly out of the vertical in a backward direction. One end of the guide rope is tied securely round it close to

DESCENDING A BIG CLIFF

the gTound, and the rest tlung- over the cUff. The descendmg rope is now passed once round the crowbar, as near the bottom as possible, in order to reduce the leverage, and whilst the man who is g'oing to manage the lowering takes charge of it, the photographer, with his camera lashed to his back, slips the loops round his hi})s, and seizing the guide rope in both hands to steady himself b}-^, prepares to make a descent.

A few of the important points to be remembered in connection with this branch of natural (1) To use good and reliablehistory work are:— ropes, and have a thoroughly trustworthy, levelheaded man to work them, as the chief source of danger lies in having a nervous or careless fellow at the crowbar. (2) To see that the last-named tool is driven well into solid ground. (3) To clear away all loose stones and pieces of rubble between the foot of the crowbar and the brink of the precipice about to be negotiated, for, should this precaution be neglected, the descending rope is sure to dislodge them when it is being hauled up; and even a small stone, with the velocity gained by a fall oi thirty or forty feet upon it, can do a great deal of damage to the photographer or his camera, if it happens to strike either of them in its downward plunge. (4) Not to allow the descending rope to run in any cleft or crevice, as it may either stick fast altogether when being pulled up again or sustain considerable damage by chafing. In order to prevent either of these awkward eventu-alities, it is a good plan to run it tlu'ough a piece of leather tubing over the edge of a cliff. AVlien making a descent, I get into some position from which I can watch my brother's movements, and convey his re(juirements to the man at the

DESCENDING A CLIFF. 3il

rope, either by Avord of mouth or Ijy a simple prearranged code of signals Avhon the distance is too great to make ourselves heard.

Two of the nastiest sensations connected with the work are stepping backwards over the brink of a very high cliff into space and spinning slowly round like a piece of meat on a roasting-jack, and watching the sea cJiase the land and the land chase the sea u])on becoming insulated through the crags at the top overhanging. Most j^eople in descending a cliff on ropes for the first time prefer, instead of keeping their feet against the rock-face and walking down, to scramble hands and knees against it; but the sharp projections play such havoc with skin and clotldng that, if they have nerve enough to persevere in the recreation, they soon try a better way. On arriving at a ledge with a nest upon it, my brother allows his body to assume a horizontal ])osition almost at right angles to the line of the cliff, and placing the end of one leg of the tripod in a convenient crevice, and the other two through a belt or piece of rope round his waist, he focusses, and generally after a deal of trouble suc-ceeds in making a picture. That of the young Peregrine Falcons on page 337 was obtained in this way. Although not particularly dangerous, if carried out with care and proper tools, cliff work of any kind requires a man with a cool head and a strong athletic frame. Most of the danger, as I have already mentioned, comes from the attendant at the crowbar. On one occasion my brother had a very narrow escape from death owing to the fellow who was lowering him neglecting his work to chat with some companions who stood near. The

crowbar had not been driven far into the ground, on account of its rocky nature, and just as his head was about to disappear l)elow the edge of the cliif, he happened to look up at it, and was horrified to see the rope running- round its top instead of its bottom, and the whole thing so bent over by the leverage of his weight, that, instead of inclin-ing away from him, it was ])ointing almost straight over his head. A frantic yell brought the careless rascal to his senses, or in another instant the crowbar would have been pulled out of the ground and the rope jerked from his hands. Some attendants have a repre-liensible knack of trying to look over the cliff at the descending photographer whilst they manipulate the rope, which is by no means reassuring to the man below. It has, however, its humorous side, for one day on the Irish coast my brother and a friend were caught by the tide and imprisoned in a cave the}' had stayed too long to investigate. My brother essayed an extremely difficult and dangerous climl) to get out and procure assistance. When he had accomplished about half of his ])erilous task, lie observed the end of a rope gliding down over the face of the cliff towards tlic mouth of the cave. The coaclnnan, and an assistant whose services had l)een requisitioned for the day, had grasped tlio situation and were lowering the means of rescue.

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