An egg was received by the Zoölogical Society[1] in January, 1871, and described by Mr. Alfred Newton as the first of either species of the genus ever known, overlooking Mr. Layard's description of the egg of C. minor published in 1867.[2] Schlegel gives a figure and some description,[3] which I suppose, from the date, to refer also to the Leyden specimen, but have not yet been able to get access to the article.
If there ever were any other specimens, I have not been able to find the record of their receipt; and, whether there be or not, it is very evident that the birds are but little known to science, since the history of the species can be summed up in so few lines.
During a four months' residence on Kerguelen Island I had ample opportunity for observing the habits of the few living things which inhabited it, and none were more interesting in their ways than the chionis. Two or three lived near our huts, frequenting the rocks along the shore between tides. They were particularly plentiful upon a bold promontory called Malloy's Point, where many cormorants nested; and at another place, some two miles away, where the débris broken off from lofty, precipitous cliffs had made a sort of "lean-to" of irregular fragments of rocks. Here, likewise, was a nesting-place for cormorants, and also a great rookery of the curious "rock-hoppers," or crested penguins. These two birds were the chosen companions of the chionis, which lived with them on terms of perfect friendship and close association. One day (October 15th), seeing a large number of white specks on the farther side of Malloy's Point, I began to approach them very cautiously, so as to watch their movements at closer quarters. Caution proved, however, to be quite thrown away in that instance, since so great was the curiosity of the birds that they would scarcely get out of my way. When I finally sat down upon a rock and kept perfectly still for a few moments, they crowded around me like a mob of street-boys around an organ-grinder. Others flew up from more distant rocks, apparently called by the short, rattling croaks of those already near, and some came almost within reach of my arm. All seemed perfectly fearless and trustful, and very unlike in this respect to any other birds that I had ever seen. They ran with great swiftness over the rocks, stopping now and then to peck at a common green sea-weed (ulva), upon which they seemed to feed, shaking the water from it by a rapid, flirting motion of the bill. In running over the rocks they rather avoided the little pools of water left by the tide, seeming to dislike wetting their feet.
After sufficient time spent in observation, I changed the cartridges in my gun for others loaded with small shot, and moved off, so as to get far enough away to shoot two or three without tearing the skins; not without a good deal of compunction at destroying their friendly
