SHOOTING SEA LIONS. 



EDWARD W. WILD. 



About 20 miles South of Astoria, Oregon, 

 at the mouth of the Columbia, a rocky- 

 promontory, known as Tillamook Head, 

 juts into the Pacific, while about a mile off 

 shore stands Tillamook light-house, where 

 3 men live in seclusion the year round. To 

 the Southward lies an unbroken wilderness 

 of wooded hills, with a rough coast line, for 

 18 miles, to the fertile valley of theNehalem. 

 It is a country abounding in big game, not 



I spent a week at a ranch house a mile 

 South of Tillamook Head, and 8 miles by 

 trail from Seaside, a summer resort. 



The days were filled with delightful ex- 

 periences, many of which can never be ef- 

 faced from memory; but the one taken for 

 this sketch occurred on the day of my ar- 

 rival at the ranch. 



I preferred to walk from Seaside, and was 

 fortunate to fall in with a Western Union 



AMATEUR PHOTO BY HARRY CHICHESTER, WASHINGTON, D. C. 



SEA LIONS ON THE ROCKS. 



yet familiar to sportsmen, nor in immediate 

 danger of depletion. 



An occasional isolated rock along the 

 coast presents 2 or 3 acres of guano- 

 whitened surface offering a convenient 

 roosting-place for myriads of sea fowl. 

 Toward evening, the flashing of the light, 

 the sighing of the breakers and the music of 

 the " singing sands " — so named from the 

 shrill note produced by one's feet in walk- 

 ing over them — a phenomenon known in 

 only a few other spots in the world — and the 

 cries of the wild creatures, form a weird 

 combination. 



lineman, bound for the same destination. 

 We started shortly after sunrise, and greatly 

 enjoyed our 8-mile scramble over rocks and 

 logs. Near the summit of the mountain we 

 stopped to rest. The chief thing that struck 

 me as extraordinary was the oppressive si- 

 lence of the big woods. Not a bird note 

 thrilled on the air, not a squirrel nor a rab- 

 bit was seen or heard. 



As we were emerging from the forest at 

 the summit of the mountain, a roaring 

 sound burst on our ears; now abating, 

 again increasing in volume until it seemed 

 like the combined bellowing of many bulls. 



