Part 27 (2/2)

”We'll put the bayonets on, I guess,” Kit remarked. ”It's a big lump of a beast. These are just the things for giving long-range stabs with.”

”Don't forget the caps!” cried Raed, already half way up the companion-way.

The wind was rather raw that morning: we put on our thick pea-jackets.

Weymouth and Don were already down in the boat, which they had brought alongside.

”Here, Don, stick that in your waistband!” exclaimed Kit, who had come up last, tossing him one of our new butcher-knives.

”All right, sir!”

”Wish you would give me a musket,” said Weymouth.

”You shall have one!” cried Wade, running back for it.

”Come, Guard!” shouted Kit. ”Here, sir!” and the s.h.a.ggy Newfoundland came bouncing down into the boat.

We got in and pulled off.

”Make for that little cove up above the ice where the sea-horse lies,”

directed Raed. ”We'll land there, and then creep over the rocks toward him.”

Kit caught up the extra paddle, and began to scull. We shot over the waves; we joked and laughed. Somehow, we were all as merry as grigs that morning.

Running into the cove, the boat was pulled up from the water, and securely fastened. Up at this end of the straits the tide did not rise nearly so high,--not more than eight or ten feet during the springs.

”Now whisht!” said Raed, taking up his musket. ”Back, Guard! Still, or we shall frighten the old gentleman!”

”He was lying there all sedate when we slid into the cove,” said Kit.

”Asleep, I guess.”

”We'll wake him shortly,” said Wade. ”But you say they are a large species of seal. Won't he take to the water, and stay under any length of time?”

”That's it, exactly,” replied Kit. ”We mustn't let him take to the water--before we riddle him.”

”But they're said to have a precious tough hide,” said I. ”Perhaps we can't riddle so easy.”

”Should like to see anything in the shape of hide that one of these rifle slugs won't go through,” replied Kit.

”Sh-h-h!” from Raed, holding back a warning hand: he was a little ahead of us. ”Creep up still! Peep by me! See him! By Jove! he's wiggling off the ice! Jump up and shoot him!”

We sprang up, c.o.c.king our muskets, just in time to get a glimpse and hear the great seal splash heavily into the sea. Wade and Kit fired as the waters buried him; Guard rushed past, and Donovan bounded down the rocks, butcher-knife in hand.

”Too late!” exclaimed Raed.

We ran down to the spot. The water went off deep from the ice on which it had lain. It was nowhere in sight. Dirt and gravel had been scattered out on to the ice, and its ordure lay about. Evidently this was one of its permanent sunning-places.

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