May 23, 1908.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
815 
SKINNING A BEAR. 
From a photograph by S. T. Davis. 
We then formed a skirmish line and in short 
time had another going. I wish I could more 
fully describe the actions of the dogs as they 
coursed along the line until they found where 
a rabbit had been started from its bed, then off 
again at full cry. Thus the sport went on until 
some one said, “Let’s snack." We made our 
way to where the horses were tethered, where 
preparations were made for lunch. 
The dog box was taken from the wagon. I 
noticed that at each corner were iron clips, into 
which were fitted four stout oak legs, and 
formed a table. In the meantime a fire had been 
started. Some one produced an iron tripod 
about ten inches in height and eight inches in 
diameter at the top. This was placed over the 
fire. On this was placed a coffee-pot, which in 
a few minutes began to simmer, then boil. 1 his 
was then taken off, put where it would keep hot, 
and a large frying-pan was substituted. Mr. E., 
who acted as chef, began to cook steak—a whoie 
porterhouse for each. Was it good! those 
steaks, that coffee, the bread and butter, yes, fit 
for the gods! And after the feast the knives, 
forks and spoons were put into the coffee-pot, 
the dishes, cups and saucers into the frying-pan, 
these in turn being put into a box under the 
wagon seat; the legs taken from the table, the 
box again placed in the wagon, and we were 
again ready for business. Can you imagine a 
more complete outfit? 
The dogs in the meantime had taken ad¬ 
vantage of the cessation of hostilities and had 
curled themselves up on the pine needles. It 
needed only a. word and they were off again. 
Occasionally we flushed a covey of partridges 
(quail), and all along the line came the report 
of guns, but always with indifferent success. 
Several more cottontails were added to our 
bag. And as the sun touched the horizon, we 
repaired to our temporary camp, harnessed our 
horses, divided the spoils equally, three falling 
to my lot. We bade each other good evening, 
and with promises of another hunt later, we 
made our way homeward. Mac. 
A Hair Seal. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
Between the southern end of Saltspring 
Island and the coast of Vancouver Island the 
hair seal is to be found at certain times of the 
year in considerable numbers. They probably 
come there to feed on the salmon, which during 
September, October and November are trying 
to ascent the small streams in the vicinity of 
the mouth of the Cowichan River, to spawn. I 
have often counted as many as twenty seals ap¬ 
parently playing together in the water. The 
telescope shows that many have scars on the 
head, presumably from fighting. 
These seals are not of the valuable seal-skin 
jacket variety, however, but are locally called 
hair seals. They are valued chiefly for the good 
leather their hides make when tanned, and the 
oil which may be obtained from boiling down 
the blubber. 
While at work on the shore opposite the 
southern end of Saltspring Island, I noticed, 
one morning in January, some seventeen seals 
playing together about 200 yards from the beach. 
The water is shallow for some hundreds of 
yards from high-water mark, and the tide was 
ebbing. They were some hundred yards from 
me, and were leaping at each other, often half 
out of the water, diving and chasing one an¬ 
other. I had often wished for an opportunity 
to shoot one of these seals, and I thought that 
if they came in any closer I could hit one, so 
on my next journey—I was hauling wood in a 
barrow—I went into the house and fetched the 
•30-30 rifle and a few cartridges. Then as I 
passed along the seaside fence, I left the rifle 
there, intending, should they still be there on 
my return, to have a shot. 
They were still there, but had stopped playing. 
They all seemed to be interested in me, raising 
their dog-like heads and one or two treading 
water to obtain a better view. I put down the 
barrow, ran to the fence where the rifle was and 
loaded. Then I rested it on the top rail and 
adjusted the sight to 200 yards. The nearest 
seal looked about 150 yards away, but distances 
on water being so deceptive, I added 50 yards. 
As I aimed at the nearest of them, I whistled, 
and several more raised themselves waist-high, 
including the one I was covering. So, slightly 
increasing the foresight, I fired, and I heard the 
bullet strike him. They all disappeared in a 
flash, save one; he lay out at full length on the 
surface and I saw the water reddening round 
him at once. I had been told by an Indian 
trapper that seals, always sink when hit, and if 
in deep water are very difficult to recover. I 
knew, therefore, that there was no time to be 
lost, and dashing to the boat house, ran out the 
dinghy, which is always kept in readiness there. 
I pulled out to where the blood-stained patch 
of water showed, but the seal had disappeared. 
Looking down through the water, I made out 
a submarine trail of blood and followed it. It 
led to another large expanse of blood-colored 
water through which I could see nothing. Ihere 
was no blood trail leading away from this patch, 
though, and the blood was so thick and plenti¬ 
ful that I was fairly certain my quarry was 
beneath it. I probed with the paddle, but could 
not find him, so I reluctantly abandoned him, 
thinking he was gone for good, as the ebbing 
tide runs north very strongly on this side, and 
I feared the bleeding had stopped. 
I went and had lunch, and was just going to 
work again, when Yuen, the Chinese cook, 
dashed in with that lack of ceremony so notice¬ 
able in Orientals in this country, saying ex¬ 
citedly that the seal was lying dead on the beach, 
shot through the head. 
P. and I bolted for the shore, followed by the 
cook, and there lay the seal, as he had said. 
The bullet had entered the head just behind the 
brain, and passed out at the other side. It was 
no light weight, and the three of us carried it up 
to the wood house, where P. very kindly offered 
to skin it for me. 
We trussed the beast by the hind flippers, 
hoisted him up to a beam, and P. began opera¬ 
tions. It is no light job to skin one of these 
animals; the skin fits so tightly that one cannot 
skin it like one would a mink—as the thick body 
would not pass through the turned-backed skin 
of the hind quarters. The odor also, that of 
very strong fish, was rather overpowering as 
the work proceeded. So I went back to -work, 
and when I looked in later on, the job was al¬ 
most finished and P. had negotiated the lips, 
eyes and ears in a manner worthy of a pro¬ 
fessional taxidermist. 
The skin, which must have been about five 
feet long, was a silvery-gray color, marked with 
panther-like spots of olive green, and altogether 
very pretty. We sent it off next morning to be 
dressed and set up. 
The following day I turned my attention to 
the blubber. This was in many places more than 
an inch thick, and I first cut it in strips, as long 
as possible, and about an inch wide. These 
strips I again cut into pieces about an inch long, 
and put all the cubes into a large pan. covered 
it, and put it on the stove. It rendered finely, 
but for the next few days the kitchen was a 
place to be avoided. 
The blubber made about three quarts of oil, 
which was carefully strained through canvas 
and bottled. The meat was then cut off and 
boiled with the bones, for the chickens, and 
here—I was going to say—the matter ended.. 
But it didn’t! A pro-tem cook about a week 
later strained a pudding through the same piece 
