ticed that he rolled the seal over, balancing it squarely on its back. Then he made half a dozen sweeping strokes—all so expert and accurate that not a slip was made with the knife, nor was any blubber left on the skin. In less than two minutes, by the watch, he had skinned the seal, leaving on the carcass nothing but a small patch of the upper lip where the stiff mustache grows, the insignificant tail, and the coarse hide of the flippers.
The whole sight was a good deal like butchery, and Colin felt a little uncomfortable. Moreover, he was not hardened to the odor arising from the blubber of the seal. He beat a retreat.
"I beg your pardon, Mr. Nagge," he called, holding his handkerchief to his nose, "but that's too much for me."
The agent turned and noticed his departure. He called back to the boy:
"Do you see that low hill? To the right of that ruined hut?"
"Yes," Colin responded.
"Just below that are some sea-lions! Go and take a look at them. I'll join you as soon as we are through here. Won't be long. But you'll have to stalk them to the leeward if you want to get close," he added, "they're shy. I'll meet you
there and we'll go back to dinner. You ought to be hungry by then."
"I will be, then," Colin responded cheerfully, adding under his breath, as he glanced back over his shoulder at the killing-grounds, "but I'm not now!"
A short walk through the long moss a-glitter with wild flowers, poppies, harebells, monkshood, and a host of sub-Arctic species, brought the lad to the top of the hill. There he paused a moment, to look over the island, treeless save for dwarf willows six inches high and a ground-dwelling form of crowberry. Below him, and some distance away, were the sea-lions, but even from that coign of vantage they looked so big and menacing that Colin wondered whether they might not stalk him, instead of his stalking them.