Forest and Stream 
$3 a Year, 10 Cts. a Copy, 
Six Months, $1.50. 
NEW YORK, SATURDAY, OCTOBER 5, 1912. 
VOL. LXXIX.—No. 14 
127 Franklin St., New York. 
Seal Stalking 
By W. R. GILBERT 
HERD OF SEALS READY FOR STALKER. 
I T is curious that of all the forms of sport 
that can be enjoyed in the British Isles, that 
of seal shooting is least known and least 
appreciated. Yet to approach a seal during the 
autumn months as it lies on Atlantic-washed rocks 
off West Scotland is a task that will tax the 
skill of the most cunning stalker. To shoot a 
seal through the head requires a steady hand and 
a good eye, while if perchance you have slain 
your seal on the edge of the incoming tide, there 
will be no time for self-congratulation or view 
admiring, but all your energies will be needed 
to save your trophy. 
If the quarry is not so noble as the stag, or 
the spirit of the sport so romantic from age, 
nevertheless the seal stalker has advantages that 
compensate, and is faced by difficulties which the 
deer stalker has not got to surmount. I main¬ 
tain that the mysteries of the cloud-wreathed tops 
and splashing burn cascades are no whit more 
fascinating than the gray hurricane on the At¬ 
lantic coast, when the great curling billows riot 
in lustful violence and re-echoing crash, lifting 
the seaweed locks of the black crags, and then 
grumbling, sweep backward, a broken eddy of 
silver foam. Nature in the hills and forests is 
mysterious, weird and subdued, but on the rocky 
sea coasts she is free to splash and foam and 
roar overwhelmingly. That is the haunt of the 
seal as I love it—foaming, heaving, splashing, 
wild, though when the sun is hot and the lazy 
sea just caresses the golden sands; when life 
seems simple and careless, then, too, it is good to 
visit the herds of Proteus. But to visit the 
Odysseus-like to see unseen is not so easy 
when Aphrodite is absent, and of this I would 
talk. 
The two essentials in seal stalking are: (i) 
Despise not the quarry; (2) never shoot at a 
seal in the water. Follow these two maxims, and 
the secrets of seal shooting are yours. Stalk a 
seal as you would a royal; never shoot till you 
think you can kill. The powers of smell of a 
seal are far-reaching and very danger warn¬ 
ing. His ears are so sharp that the grate of an 
iron-shod boot or the rattle of a loosened stone 
will put him into the water with lightning rapid¬ 
ity, but if he only sees you and is unable to dis¬ 
tinguish you, his curiosity will conquer and the 
stalk will not be spoilt. Frequently when creep¬ 
ing up to some seal out on a promontory of rock 
one has swum to within ten yards of me, unable 
to make me out, until suddenly his suspicions 
are aroused. At once he dives and does not re¬ 
appear until 100 yards of ocean separate us. Not 
invariably, however, will he disturb the others on 
the rock, unless he is really frightened and grunts 
an all too well heeded warning. 
As in deer stalking, I first spy my quarry 
from some high ground or cliffs, test the wind, 
reconnoiter the ground, fix the position of the 
seal by prominent rocks, etc., remove all objects 
from my pockets that are likely to be spoiled by 
sea water, load the rifle, place it under cover, and 
am then ready to commence. One of the greatest 
attractions of seal stalking, to me at least, is that 
there is no one whose duty it is to “lead you up 
to your quarry.” You are alone, and it is just 
your cunning against the seal’s. Probably I will 
start by carefully climbing down some cleft in 
the cliff above the seaweed-draped rocks that the 
boisterous tide is gradually uncovering. It is 
always advisable to stalk with the ebbing tide. 
I will have taken off my heavy boots and either 
put on rubber-soled sand shoes or else trust to 
the thickness of my stockings to defy the sharp 
rocks, as I will have to crouch low and com¬ 
mence crawling. If the west coast rain has not 
already soaked me, it will not be long after pass¬ 
ing high-water mark before the wet seaweed be¬ 
gins to make its presence known. 
What from above appeared a dry, inviting 
channel in the rock by which to progress now, I 
find to be a ditch with a couple of feet of water 
in it, and yet I dare not raise my head above its 
edge for fear of detection. It comes to an abrupt 
end. Cautiously I peer over the top—yes, there 
they are, like five great sleepy slugs, and it is 
that great fellow on the right 1 am after. Of 
course, he is in the most inaccessible place, but 
only another hundred yards to that little black 
rock whence I have decided to take the shot. 
Carefully I raise myself to the edge of the ditch. 
There is ten yards of open, flat rock; I must 
cross this in full sight of the seals. Then there 
appears to be a depression which will bring me 
almost to the desired spot. Soon I am congratu¬ 
lating myself on a most successful stomach wrig¬ 
gle over those ten yards, when to my surprise 
the inviting depression (of which I had not just 
now been able to see the bottom) has been trans¬ 
formed into an inlet of water, apparently deep, 
twenty yards across, and with steep sides. Quoi 
fairc? I turn half around to better examine my 
position, and in doing so dislodge a lump of rock, 
which rattles horribly, but just does not splash 
