"They herd themselves," the agent said. "Don't go anywhere unless it is crowded. The more a place is jammed, the more anxious they are to get there. Newcomers won't go to empty harems. Unhappy with only one or two other cows. Try and find room in a crowded bunch where one sea-catch is looking after thirty females."
"But," said Colin, looking at the group which was nearest to him, "there are a lot of little baby seals in there! They'll get trodden on!"
"They are trodden on. Often," said the agent. "Can't be helped. Only a few pups right in the harems and they are all small. Obviously! Go away when they are a week old. Wander from the harem to find playfellows. Make up 'pods' or nurseries. Sometimes four or five hundred in one nursery. Stay until the end of the season. There's a pod of pups," he continued, pointing up the beach; "about sixty of them, I should judge. Happy-looking? Clearly!"
"They look like big black kittens," said Colin, as he watched them tumbling about on the pebbly beach, "and just as full of fun. Can they swim as soon as they are born, Mr. Nagge?"
"Seals have to learn to swim. Same as boys," he answered. "They teach themselves, apparently! Young seal, thrown into deep water, will drown. Queer. Become wonderful swimmers, too."
"About how long does it take them to learn?" Colin asked.
"Don't begin until they are three weeks old,"
was the reply. "Practise several hours a day. Swim well in about a month."
"Why don't the father or the mother seals teach them?" queried the boy.