IN THE SHETLANDS 259 
intervals he would open his mouth widely, and keep it 
so for some seconds at a time, then shutting and again 
opening it, as though he had some special object in so 
doing, though I can form no conjecture as to what 
it was. The inside of his mouth being—especially 
the parts farthest down—of a deep and bright red, 
contrasted most vividly with the cold grey of the 
water and the general colourlessness of this northern 
scene. The grass must be excepted from this picture ; 
but though bright enough if looked at by itself, it is 
unable to overpower the general effect imparted by sky, 
by sea, by naked rock and precipice. After a consider- 
able time spent in this curious performance, the seal 
at last desists and swims to his rock, now but thinly 
covered by the waves. He circumnavigates it, hangs 
about it affectionately, lies upon it in the wash of the 
waves, swims away again, returns, and now, it being 
just possible to do so, reclines in earnest, adjusting 
himself to his greater satisfaction as the tide recedes. 
But it is not only on the rocks that seals lie sleep- 
ing. They do so also—as one is doing now—in the 
sea itself, rising and sinking with the heave and 
subsidence of the wave, advancing and retiring with 
its flux and reflux without exhibiting any kind of 
independent motion—less, indeed, than they indulged 
in, in basking on the rocks ; for they do not, whilst thus 
floating, seem so inclined to scratch or kick or stretch 
the legs, or go through any other of their various 
quaint, uncouth actions. The eyes are shut, but they 
open at long, lazy intervals. They float, or rather 
