“They returned eagerly to the spot from whence they had dislodged the obstacle which had so long opposed them; and they gave unmistakable proof, by their rapid and continued movements, that they were enjoying an ample repast as the reward of their industrious and praiseworthy labour. I was so pleased, and even delighted, with the sagacity and perseverance which they had shown, that I should have considered myself as guilty of a crime had I endeavoured to take away the lives of these interesting beings, at the very moment when they were exercising, in a manner so happily for themselves, the wonderful instincts implanted in them by their Creator. When they appeared to have done and to be satisfied, I arose from my place of concealment. On examining the fish, I found it to be a specimen of the common cod. It was nearly three feet and a half long, and it had been imbedded in the sand to the depth of about two inches.”
One of Edward’s greatest pleasures was in rambling along the sea-shore, to observe the habits of the sea birds. The multitude of birds which frequent the shores of the Moray Firth are occasioned by the shoals of herrings, which afford food not only for thousands of fishermen but for millions of sea-birds. To show the number of birds that frequent the coast, it may be mentioned that during the storm that occurred in December 1846, Edward counted between the Burn of Boyne and Greenside of Gamrie, a distance of about nine miles, nearly sixty of the Little Auk, which had been driven ashore dead, besides a large number of Guillemots and Razorbills. Numbers of these birds were also found lying dead in the fields throughout the county.
And yet the Little Auk has a wonderful power of resisting the fury of the waves. “It is a grand sight,” says Edward, “to see one of these diminutive but intrepid creatures manœuvring with the impetuous billows of a stormy sea. Wave follows wave in rapid succession, bearing destruction to everything within reach; but the Little Auk, taught by Nature, avoids the threatened danger, either by mounting above the waves or by going beneath them, reappearing unhurt as they spend their fury on the shore. The eye for a time wanders in vain amongst the turbulent surge, to catch another sight of the little sailor bird. One unaccustomed to such a scene would be apt to exclaim ‘Poor little thing! It is buried amidst the foam!’ Have a little patience. See, there it is, once more, as lively as ever, and ready to master the approaching billow. Its descent amongst the waves may have been merely in search of food, for it is only betwixt the waves, whilst inshore during a storm, that the bird can descend for that purpose. The bird is known in our locality by the curious term of the ‘Nor-a-wa-wifie,’ from the supposition that it comes from Norway.”