in Captivity 155 



As soon as we see by our glasses that they are 

 safely embarked, we all make for the rocks in order 

 to obtain a nearer view of this wonderful " stalk." 



The sun is nearly setting, and its rays glint on the 

 old seal, who is now nothing but skin and straw, but 

 who once lay in just such a manner in real life. There 

 is something rather pathetic in that thought. Slowly 

 the punt is rowed towards a group of rocks about 

 fifty yards away from where it lies. When these 

 are reached there is a long pause and much mysterious 

 fidgeting. 



The Slayer jumps overboard up to his knees in 

 water, and stooping down slinks to the shelter at 

 hand. His brother follows. 



Then the latter turns back to the boat, where 

 he seems to stay for an age. 



It turned out afterwards that the telescope, which 

 had been taken, had been purposely left by him in the 

 punt, much to the Slayer's annoyance, who turned 

 indignantly to his brother with, " You're a nice sort 

 of fellow to come out seal-stalking, you are." 



So the telescope has to be fetched, and the delay in 

 doing so is caused by the cunning idea of unscrewing 

 it, and removing an inner lens, which would effectually 

 prevent the seal being viewed through it, when 

 immediate detection of the fraud would have been the 

 result. With more grumblings caused by this un- 

 warrantable delay, the Slayer levels the glass, only to 

 exclaim that he can see nothing through it. 



So he must take his chance, and shoot where he 

 thinks the animal's head, or heart, is. 



