As it was nearly low tide, I soon had a piece of abalone on my hook, and was fishing. No seals were in sight, but I kept a sharp lookout for them as I fished. I had just caught a second shad--and it was something I had never done before, to catch a shad off the rocks--when the heads of half a dozen seals appeared on the swells to my left. More heads came in sight as I grabbed up my fishes and hastened to the sandy part of the shore. I was in high spirits, for shad would tempt Nab as no other fish could. In less than two minutes I had my clothes off, the lariat knotted round my waist, and the short string that tied the fishes together between my teeth. The seals were still where I had first seen them, out less than two hundred yards from shore. I waded quickly into the water until the waves began to break over my head, and then swam. Before I had taken three strokes one of the fishes I held by my teeth began to lend assistance, jumping and splashing about so under my nose that I thought best to beat a retreat. When I turned to gain shallow water again, however, I felt at once the strength of the undertow, which in my excitement I had entirely forgotten. I could make no headway against it until a couple of big waves came up from behind, and sent me far enough in to get a firm footing. With confidence that my shad would give me no more trouble, I again turned to swim out. The water of the big waves that had boosted me in now began to draw me out in the undertow. I hesitated when I felt the strength of its sweep, and still more as I thought of the greater force it would have when the tide turned. Where I stood I could withstand it, but a little deeper in I well knew it would be impossible to do so without the help of incoming waves. "They just washed me ashore once; I guess they will again," I thought, and threw myself into the current. As I approached the seals most of them began to swim off, but two or three of the larger males stood their ground, letting me come to within a couple of rods of them. Nearer, however, they would not let me draw, although their curiosity about me was great. From the way they went circling round me, stretching their long necks up out of the water to get a good view, I concluded I was of a different species of water animal from those with which they were familiar. Of Nab, however, I could see nothing. "Fish, Nab, fish, fish!" I called, and held up for inspection one of the shad I had brought. At the sound of my voice there was a sharp little bark from behind, such as Nab alone could give when I had an exceptionally delicate morsel for him. I turned quickly, and saw at a distance his shining dog-shaped head. "Fish, Nab, a fine shad for you, fish!" I coaxed.