MY DOG, SLOP. 233 



shoot one of these magnificent birds, and I was 

 anxious to secure a specimen ; so I at once gave 

 chase. It is useless to fire at any of the divers, 

 when swimming, unless they are very near, for they 

 are certain to * dive on the fire,' as the phrase goes ; 

 it is a trick they all have. This particular bird 

 was an old and wary fellow, and for a long time I 

 could not get within range. He would appear for an 

 instant just a few yards too far off, and then dive, 

 while I continued the pursuit in the same direction. 

 I was in this way beguiled a considerable distance 

 round the seaward coast of Balta, which is formed of 

 steep precipices, detached rocks or stacks, skerries, and 

 sunken rocks. At last I got a fair chance, and, to my 

 great joy, bagged the Diver. 



" As by this time I was fully half-way round Balta, 

 and the light wind, which was off shore, was slightly 

 on the quarter, and the sea perfectly smooth, I kept 

 sailing on with the intention of circumnavigating the 

 island. Gliding smoothly and silently along, and 

 just as I was passing a small rock called Skarta 

 Skerry, I caught sight of an otter on its top busily 

 engaged in discussing his dinner. He was within 

 easy range ; and to snatch my fowling-piece and give 

 him the contents of the right barrel, was the work of 

 an instant. He was wounded, but not killed, so I 

 gave him the coup de grdce from the second barrel. 

 Luffing up, I ran my boat along the Skerry. Seizing 

 the diminutive kedge attached to the end of the long 

 rope which served as a painter, I sprang on shore. 



