24 WHERE ROLLS THE OREGON 



titudinous sounds. The confusion caused by our 

 descent among the birds soon subsided ; the large 

 colony of murres close by our heads returned to 

 their rookery ; and with the rain and thickening 

 dark there spread everywhere the quiet of a low 

 murmurous quacking. Sleep was settling over the 

 rookeries. 



Down in the water below us rose the bulk of a 

 sea-lion, an old lone bull, whose den we had in- 

 vaded. He, too, was coming back to his bed for 

 the night. He rose and sank in the half light, 

 blinking dully at the cask and other things that 

 we had left below us on the ledge belonging to 

 him. Then he slowly clambered out and hitched 

 up toward his bed. My own bed was just above 

 his, so close that I could hear him blow, could see 

 the scars on his small head, and a long open 

 gash on his side. We were very near. 



I drew back from the edge, pulled the blanket 

 and sail-cloth over me, and turned my face up 

 to the slanting rain. Two young gulls that had 

 hidden from us in a cranny came down and 

 nestled close to my head, their parents, one after 

 the other, perching an instant on the rock just 

 out of reach, and all through the night calling to 



