"Indeed there was, and lots of it! No one, not even the United States Government, ever knew how much. While the islands were leased to a private company the beaches were patrolled by riflemen. Russian and Japanese schooners frequently sent off boatloads of armed men during a fog, to kill as many seals as possible, protecting their men by gunfire. But that was before the Bureau of Fisheries took hold!"
"Has there been any of that lately?"
"Not recently. The last was in 1906, when seven men were killed. The two schooners, the Tokaw Maru and the Bosco Maru, were seized and confiscated. Promptly! The men were taken to Valdez. They were convicted and sent to prison."
"Well, that's desperate enough," the boy said, "but, after all, there's something daring about it. It's the pelagic sealing that seems so mean to me."
"It may be daring enough," the agent admitted. "The way I feel about it, though, is that it seems worse to kill a cow fur seal than a human being. There are lots of people in the world. The human race isn't going to die out, but the small remnant of fur seals on the Pribilof Islands is absolutely the last chance left of saving the entire species from extinction. So," he concluded with a laugh, as they went into the village, "don't let your enthusiasm for a piece of daring tempt you to turn seal-pirate."
Colin laughed, as he nodded to his host, and went to see after one of his new pets, a blue fox pup which had been given him that morning by one of the natives.
Evening seemed to come early because of the dense fog, the damp mist which had been present all day settling down heavily. Colin was thoroughly tired, but not at all sleepy, and he wandered aimlessly through the village for a while after supper.
"I wonder if there's a storm coming?" he
said to the agent. "I have a sort of feeling that something's going to happen."