with all the cautiousness of a coyote approach- 

 ing a sleeping camp. He would stop here 

 and there and pick up something, and glide 

 forward again to left or right, like a fox 

 quartering towards a quail roost. As he drew 

 near I saw that he was after the scattered 

 herring which had fallen from the nets, and 

 which were now floating astern on the sur- 

 face as the tide drifted them away. Closer 

 and closer he came, while we all stopped our 

 work to watch. The huge bulk would glide 

 softly up to a tiny dct of silver floating on 

 the ocean's blue; the great mouth would 

 open, wide enough to take in a fisherman, 

 and close gently over one small herring. 

 Then he would swallow his tidbit and back 

 away slowly to watch the boats awhile before 

 picking up another morsel. He always turned 

 sidewise so as to look at us with one eye, as 

 a chicken does ; for he seemed unable to see 

 straight in front of him. But he had other 

 senses to depend upon, and also that unknown 

 feeling of danger when ordinary senses are 

 useless, which the whalemen tell us is so 

 strongly developed in this uncouth monster. 



285 



Outof/fie 



