248 Naturalist at Large 



Thus we know that this rare little solitary whale, which 

 has turned up here and there all over the world (our only- 

 previous specimen in this Museum was from New Zea- 

 land), evidently has a way of following behind ships in- 

 stead of preceding them as is the usual practice for playing 

 dolphins. Moreover, evidently the young of the previous 

 year follows the mother and continues to suckle until the 

 young of the next generation is a well-grown embryo. 



The last of these events I am going to describe in my 

 daughter Julia's own terms: — 



Mother, my sister Louisa, Pa and I were in Virginia 

 for our annual bout of duck shooting. On this par- 

 ticular occasion we were shooting some beach blinds 

 owned by our cousin whose property adjoins our 

 Sand Bridge marsh. To get to Barbour's Hill (a seven- 

 teen-foot elevation above sea level) one drives about 

 eight miles along the beach. This in itself is a treach- 

 erous pastime at best and not made any less so by our 

 vehicle — an old station wagon whose superstructure 

 is rusted away and whose brakes and lights have long 

 since departed. 



We had an excellent time at Barbour's Hill, wangled 

 our limit in geese and ducks and started home. The 

 beach buggy was laden down with our loot and our- 

 selves. We proceeded slowly, careful to avoid the 

 stumps of petrified trees and ribs of wrecked sailing 

 ships. Occasionally a marsh hog would eye us over the 

 edge of a sand dune and then run hastily away. We 

 must have been a terrifying sight. The sea was quite 

 rough and waves rolled in fast — breaking in a jumbly 

 mass. 



