THE HERDS OF PROTEUS 85 



and cover of rock, hazel, and birch ; but just below 

 are a flock of wild ducks, and if I put them 

 up good-bye to my seals. Another round and 

 I come to a little burn, which finds its way 

 into the sea just at the nearest point to the 

 seal rock. It is wet, it is slippery, it is un- 

 comfortable, but no matter I crawl along, often 

 in a pool of water, till I find myself at a point 

 hardly more than a hundred yards from my 

 objective. I pause to take breath, then slowly 

 and cautiously raise my head. There they are 

 still, and my dark friend is motionless in the 

 same attitude. I rest my left hand on the 

 rock, my rifle on my left hand, take a steady 

 aim, and pull. There is a smoke, a splash, 

 several splashes, as the seals flop heavily into 

 the water, but, when the smoke clears away, 

 my dark friend is still lying there in the same 

 attitude, absolutely motionless, a thin stream of 

 blood flowing from his throat just below the 

 nose. The ball has caught him fair this time, 

 and his skin is mine. Splashing, sliding, and 

 jumping, I find my way -across the sand and 

 boulders through the shallow water ; but there 

 is no need to hurry the dark seal never moves 

 again. 



After this success oysters sound an unromantic 

 object of pursuit ; but we get a few, and enjoy 

 them as a relish to our picnic. The seal is 

 handed over to Hugh Gillies, the herd, to skin, 



