A DAY WITH A SEAL 91 



another sufferer makes me fear the worst. For 

 the past week he has deserted the moor, and 

 here he will be found to-day, as usual, gazing 

 reproachfully at the rabbit-hole down which 

 eighteenpence worth of gutta-percha has just 

 vanished, or vainly endeavouring to impress on 

 the uninitiated youth of the island the subtle 

 distinction between a putter and a mashie. But 

 I will dwell no further on this piteous spectacle. 

 Let us pass on. 



Another mile brings us to our first spying 

 ground a narrow rocky pass in the hill over- 

 looking the promontory of Ardskinish. Here I 

 remove from my pockets any things which are 

 liable to be spoilt by contact with sea water, and 

 placing them in the lunch-bag, deposit the latter 

 on the ground for the present with my rabbit 

 rifle in a cover beside it. Then seating myself 

 on a convenient stone, I take out my glass and 

 proceed to spy for seals. 



A more dreary spot than Ardskinish it has 

 seldom been my misfortune to see. A line of 

 low sand dunes clothed in hard grey bents is 

 protected from the force of the Atlantic by a 

 most inhospitable reef, almost entirely submerged 

 at high tide. A lighthouse just visible on the 

 horizon, far out to sea, is the last vestige of land 

 between these rocks and the Western Hemi- 

 sphere. To the usefulness of this light the 

 islanders give a valuable testimonial from a some- 



