That night as she lay in her cave with a rolled-up blanket for pillow and the other blanket for covering, neither Ghosts nor Loneliness came to trouble her.
Two great bulls a few yards from the cave’s mouth kept her warm and comfortable of mind.
She could hear their puffs and grunts and the occasional wobble-wobble of their digestive organs as they slept, dreaming maybe in their sleep, for sometimes they tossed and moved, and once one of them gave a “woof” as though trying to roar under the blanket of sleep.
She thought of dogs lying asleep; dogs dreamed and hunted in their dreams, why should not these?
Then suddenly the rain came down as though someone had pulled the string of a shower bath, but she knew that would not drive them away, guessing that rain to sea elephants was no more disturbing than sun to peaches.
Then she was chasing penguins along the beach, riding on a sea elephant towards that absolute oblivion which is the brand of sleep they serve at Kerguelen.