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.