We have had several takes of fish of late, though there seems to be a scarcity of “fry” compared with last year, the absence of which probably accounts for the terns failing to call upon us with their young for a few weeks’ feasting prior to commencing their migratory journey southwards. Gannets may be seen at present striking at fish within a few feet of our doorway, while a flock of young gulls hover expectantly, with feeble peeping cries anticipating the feast in store for them when the dinner scraps make their appearance. Further off a few eider ducks--who only arrived on the 25th, somewhat later than last year--evidently eye the proceedings of these juvenile degenerates with disdain, preferring to refrain from such pampered luxuries and dine on the products of the chase alone. The eiders present are as yet all adult males, the females presumably still occupied with family cares teaching the young idea how to shoot, or rather fish, if plucking mussels, catching crabs, etc., can be called so, for such is their diet, and does not include fish. Strange that the foremost arrivals among migratory birds are all males. Why this is so is not agreed upon by observers, some supposing that the females are detained by maternal duties; others, again, affirm that they migrate _en masse_, and that the more vigorous males soon outstrip and ungallantly leave the gentler sex to bring up the rear. On the 6th we had our first intimation of the autumnal migratory flight in the arrival of a flock of wheatears, accompanied by a solitary wren. On the 27th several greenfinches, larks, and starlings were making insane efforts to follow the line of _most_ resistance, resulting in our new lantern receiving its first baptism of blood, as the glass next morning testified. Several porpoises are to be seen puffing and blowing a mile off, and on the 28th a school of “finner” whales were seen heading north. I see by the _Arbroath Guide_ that one of our old fog bells has been presented by our Commissioners to the Arbroath Museum, a fit resting place after its long sojourn on the Rock. Should the date upon it happen by any chance to become erased, what possible controversies it may yet become the subject of amongst posterity as to its connection with that mythical personage “Ralph the Rover.” I myself can testify to its having conformed in one respect at least with that of the poem, for on lowering it from its position on the balcony for shipment the tide had overflowed the Rock about a couple of feet, causing the bell to settle with an audible gurgle, or as one of the seamen (Fraser) appropriately quoted, “The bell sank down with a gurgling sound.” _OCTOBER 1902._