On November 3 several eggs were found, and on the 4th these were beginning to be plentiful in places, though many of the colonies had not yet started to lay. Let me here call attention to the fact that up to now not a single bird out of all those thousands had left the rookery once it had entered it. Consequently not a single bird had taken food of any description during all the most strenuous part of the breeding season, and as they did not start to feed till November 8 thousands had to my knowledge fasted for no fewer than twenty-seven days. Now of all the days of the year these twenty-seven are certainly the most trying during the life of the Adélie. With the exception, in some cases, of a few hours immediately after arrival (and I believe the later arrivals could not afford themselves even this short respite) constant vigilance had been maintained; battle after battle had been fought; some had been nearly killed in savage encounters, recovered, fought again and again with varying fortune. They had mated at last, built their nests, procreated their species, and, in short, met the severest trials that Nature can inflict upon mind and body, and at the end of it, though in many cases blood-stained and in all caked and bedraggled with mire, they were as active and as brave as ever. When one egg had been laid the hen still sat on the nest. The egg had to be continually warmed, and as the temperature was well below freezing-point, exposure would mean the death of the embryo. In order to determine the period between the laying of the two eggs, I numbered seven nests with wooden pegs, writing on the pegs the date on which each egg was laid. The result obtained is shown on page 53. The average interval in the four cases where two eggs were laid being 3·5 days. [Illustration: Fig. 33. Floods (Page 66)] No. 7 nest was that of the hen which I mentioned as having waited for so long for a mate, and the lateness of the date on which the first egg appeared may have resulted in there being no other.