A DAY WITH A SEAL 99 



rounding and entering its recesses are distinctly 

 visible. 



But time and tide wait neither for the rescue 

 of boots nor for the devouring of sandwiches, and 

 the rising water threatens shortly to wash the 

 dead seal from its rock. What is to be done ? 

 There is no time to skin him where he lies. Off 

 I rush again, across the rocks, across the dunes, 

 the bents and thistles stabbing at my bootless feet, 

 to ask at the farm for a rope, which may enable 

 me to drag the body by the heavy end, and thus 

 get rid of a considerable part of the resistance to 

 the water ; though, of course, my ideal is a rope 

 long enough to reach the whole of the distance 

 between the seal's rock and the land. A woman 

 comes out in response to my knock ; the rest of 

 the inhabitants are elsewhere, working in the 

 corn. After she has overcome her surprise at 

 my appearance, as I stand dripping in stockings 

 and shirt sleeves, she offers me refreshment, which 

 I decline, and then goes to search for rope, re- 

 turning after a considerable interval with a few 

 short odds and ends of doubtful-looking cordage, 

 with which I am obliged with thanks and apolo- 

 gies to depart. 



Returning to the reef, I hastily break off as 

 much of the rope as is too rotten to stand a mode- 

 rate strain, and, connecting the rest, swim once 

 again to the body, which the water is by this 

 time actually touching. 



