298 
THE STORY OF THE SEAL 
is not peaceful, for some restless one soon starts up and flounders over the 
others, as if seeking a better place. This disturbs the whole herd, which 
constantly keeps up a low moaning, apparently expressive of sore distress. 
By this time the sea-lions have become so accustomed to their captors that 
they will sooner fight than run from them; and they are too much deafened 
by their own noise to hear or fear any other sound. As they lie on the 
ground in a compact mass, one of the men takes an umbrella, and goes 
twenty to thirty yards to the rear of the herds, and approaching stealthily 
until he is quite near, suddenly expands the umbrella, and runs with it all 
along the edge of the herd; then, closing it, he retires to repeat the maneuvre. 
This has .the effect of rousing the rear rank, which, thus suddenly alarmed, 
plunges'forward and arouses those in front, which suddenly begin struggling 
and biting. The return of the man with the umbrella communicates another 
shock, and adds another wave to the sluggish mass. This is repeated at 
intervals of four or five minutes, till the successive shocks have aroused the 
whole herd, when, with much roaring and bellowing, the whole mass begins 
to move, gradually extending itself in a long irregular line in open order, 
each animal lumbering along as best it can. By shouting and waving flags 
at the rear, and on the flanks of the herd, they are kept moving until it is 
necessary to halt them again for rest. 
Finally, the herd reaches the village, when, the sea-lions, being far too 
formidable animals to be despatched with clubs, are shot with rifles; the full- 
grown males being killed first, after which the fore-part of the herd is driven 
back upon and over the rear, when the slaughter is continued with lances. 
The description of this scene is, however, by no means pleasant reading, and 
may accordingly be passed over. 
In captivity these sea-lions display great affection for one another; and 
when one of a pair dies the survivor not infrequently pines away and dies 
soon after. From observations made on captive specimens in Chicago, it 
appears that before the cub takes to the water the parent secretes a kind of 
oily fluid from her body, with which the hair of the cub becomes anointed, 
owing to both animals rolling on the same spot. 
A curious circumstance I discovered is that in the stomach of every sea- 
lion I have examined, with the single exception of a young animal, there 
existed a quantity of pebbles. The amount varied in individuals from a few 
to many. Some of these pebbles weighed as much as a half pound. 
A seal that was exhibited in London answered to the call of its keeper, 
and attended to whatever he was commanded to do. He would take food 
