Wouldn’t the fishermen of Arbroath fancy their lines had fallen in pleasant places should the fish they pursue at such hazard come sailing voluntarily into the harbour, and even without the usual ceremony of dropping them a line, appear on the surface, mutely asking to be lifted out? Such, however, was our experience lately. Shortly before daybreak one quiet morning our attention was attracted by the movements of a few gulls, evidently interested in some object in the water at the edge of the reef. As daylight advanced it was seen to be a large fish wobbling erratically upon the surface. On extinguishing the light and descending to the rocks, which the advancing tide had not yet covered, the fish was seen to have entered the Johnny Gray boat track, and was propelling itself, keel upwards, in our direction. A fish in this unusual position indicates an abnormal distension of the swimming bladder, which, by over-increasing its buoyancy, entirely upsets its centre of gravity, and forces it topsy-turvy to the surface. A steam trawler, which had been working close to the Rock for several days previous, was probably responsible for our friend’s “blown” condition. Stepping gingerly over beds of white whelks as we wade bare foot to welcome our visitor, we mentally contrast our inferiority with more juvenile days--a time when even road metal could be safely negotiated. The screaming gulls resent our interference with their expected feast, no doubt slanging us unmercifully as we land our capture, an arm-long lythe, safely on the grating. Their clamouring, however, is soon stilled, as each retires with as big a share of the offal as his strength and agility can command. The long-tailed ducks are now only wanting to complete the list of our winter boarders, and their advent may be looked for early next month. The eiders have now attained their numerical strength for the winter, and are busily engaged picking up a living, not only for themselves, but also for the parasitical gulls which hover in close attendance, shepherding them with unwearied diligence. The peculiar cackling of the eiders--not unlike that of wild geese--becomes somewhat disturbing as their operations are occasionally carried on underneath our bedroom window. Gannets are now rarely seen here, but at their breeding haunts on the Bass Rock--which we had the opportunity of visiting while on our way here last relief--they are still in evidence, though by the end of the month they will have commenced their journey southwards. A new light is being completed on the Bass Rock, and on the first of December, yet another factor in our dwindling list of visitors will be in operation--ostensibly a lighthouse--but to our feathered friends, alas! a veritable slaughter-house. _NOVEMBER 1902._