IN THE SHETLANDS 175 
impossible that these little wings should be adequate 
to take it down in a slanting line to the sea, and the 
longer it stays on the ledge the less impossible does 
this become. This gives a reason for its staying so 
long ; but why should the mother not take it, if she 
does do so, almost from the very first ? 
It seems funny to be looking over a ledge, all day 
long, and to eat one’s lunch whilst so doing. But 
I just look up to make my notes, and on looking 
down again, almost right under me, I see a seal hang- 
ing lazily in this quiet shore-pool of the sea; for 
to-day there is hardly a foam-line round the stacks 
and rocks. When he sinks I can follow him for some 
time under the water. His hind fins or feet seem to 
become quiescent, as though only the front ones were 
used ; but this last I cannot see. As he recedes, 
going both downwards and outwards, he becomes 
greener and greener, and the green darker and fainter, 
till, at last, having first looked dimly luminous, he 
disappears. Some guillemots are on the water, too— 
thirty-two in all, that I can see—but not one of these 
has a young one swimming by it. Farther off, a kitti- 
wake, I think, is feeding on the floating carcase of one 
of its own species—a young one. Horrid sight ! 
The prettiness of the bird contrasts so with what 
it is doing. But what a joy should this be to the 
optimist, who always seems to extract a comfort from 
the most uncomfortable things, as though they not 
only justified his position, but made it self-evident. 
Another half-hour has gone, and still the eyed or 
