GILPIN ON THE SEALS OF NOVA SCOTIA. 379 



by numerous bristles. The color of the live animal wet, as he 

 habitually is, with the fur plastered <lown smoothly to his figure, is 

 a sluty ground, deeper upon back and lighter upon belly, on which 

 are more or less penciling of black, sometimes spots, sometimes 

 running into lines, usually a complication of both. When dry, 

 the fur becomes more erect, and the light slate becomes greyish 

 fawn. When you examine the dead skin at the fur dealers, you 

 find a pale sea green pervading the whole skin with the dark pen- 

 celling on it and the hair erect and dry. A seal coming out of the 

 water to bask in the sun, is nearly black, but as he dries he gets 

 liMiter and liohter until he is almost fawn. I could tell bv his 

 appearance, almost, how long he had been out of water. 



A young whelp apparently a week or ten days old was dark 

 slate upon the back, lighter on sides and belly, with about a dozen 

 round black spots on his sides. The face in the adult is lighter and 

 the flippers darker than the body. This seal is common to every 

 port of Nova Scotia. I have seen them in the Annapolis Basin 

 and the Bay of Fundy. They are found at Yarmouth and along 

 the eastera coast, and a few every winter pass the crowded wharves 

 of Halifax, and are seen in groups on the ice at Bedford Basin, or 

 riding to sea on its fragments as the ice is swept seaward by a heavy 

 north-wester in early spring. But vigilant and shy, it loves lone 

 unfrequented shores, and thus Sable Island is its great stronghold. 

 Here, at least, some thousands perpetually dwell, and some years 

 ago [ watched their habits with great pleasure. On the north side 

 of the island you only met with single ones or pairs roaming inside 

 the bars about five hundred yards from shore, whilst on the south 

 side, exposed to the whole swell of the Atlantic, we found them in 

 herds. I supposed their food was plentier on that side. They would 

 follow me on horse back for miles, the whole herd accompanying 

 me just outside the breakers, with their heads turned towards me. 

 Sometimes their curiosity tempted them inside the breaker, when 

 they always dove to escape the foamy dash. It was a pretty sight 

 as the sharp edge of the wave curled up and thinned out before it 

 broke, to see three or four of them through the transparent water, 

 as it lifted them above the sea level and showed them struggling to 

 avoid its creamy dash. But though so much at home on the sea, 



