White Wings: A Yachting Romance, Volume IIIBlack, William
General
White Wings: A Yachting Romance, Volume III
Black, William
Yachting -- Fiction
There they were, no doubt, and in large numbers. We could see the
occasionally moving forms, scarcely distinguishable from the brown
sea-weed, on the long projecting points of the low rocks; while here and
there one of the animals could be made out, poising himself in a
semi-circle—head and tail in the air—like a letter O with the upper
four-fifths cut off. But the problem was, how to get anywhere within
shot. The rocks, or small islands, had no doubt certain eminences in
the middle; but they were low and shallow all round. Obviously it was
no use bearing straight down on them from our present position; so it
was resolved to give them a wide berth, to pull away from the islands
altogether, and then approach them from the south, if haply there might
in this wise be some possibility of shelter. It was observed that Queen
Titania, during these whispered and eager consultations, smiled gravely
and was silent. She had been in the Highlands before.
Seals are foolish animals. We were half a mile away from them; and we
were going still farther away. The rocking of the water made it
impossible for us to try a haphazard shot even if we had had a rifle
that would have carried anything like 800 yards with precision. There
was not the least reason for their being alarmed. But all the same, as
we silently and slowly paddled away from them—actually away from
them—the huge bodies one by one flopped and waddled and dropped into the
water with a splash. In about a minute or so there was not a seal
visible through our best binoculars. And Queen Titania calmly smiled.
But, as everybody knows, there are two sides to an island, as to
everything else. So we boldly bore down on the shores nearest us, and
resolved, on getting close, on a cautious and silent landing. After
many a trial we found a creek where the stern of the gig could be backed
into fairly deep water, along a ledge of rock, and then two of us got
out. The ladies produced their knitting materials.
With much painful stooping and crawling, we at length reached the middle
ridge, and there laid down our rifles to have a preliminary peep round.
That stealthy glance revealed the fact that, on the other side also, the
seals had been alarmed and had left the rocks; but still they were not
far away. We could see here and there a black and glistening head
moving among the lapping waters. Of course it would have been madness
to have risked our all on a random shot at sea. Hit or miss, the
chances were about equal we should not get the seal; so we quietly
retired again behind the ridge, and sate down. We could see the gig and
its occupants. It seemed to one of us at least that Queen Titania was
still amused.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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