Before they had time for further questions Jordan spoke to Stickine, and spreading out they floundered down the slope and then closed in on the seals. The latter made no very great effort to avoid them, and when they had driven them together Jordan separated those he wanted from the rest.
"We'll take these along," he said.
Then while most of the herd went flopping down the slope in a hurry to the sea the men urged the rest slowly towards the higher ground, pushing one here and there with their feet, or prodding them with their rifles. It was dark, but the lads could see the seals more or less plainly, though it would have puzzled either of them to describe their progression. They did not walk, they did not crawl, but every move set their blubber-coated bodies quivering, and nothing more appropriate than flopping occurred to Niven. They also went faster than he fancied they could have done, though the men seemed desirous not to hurry them, and when he asked, Stickine told him the reason.
"If you make them hot before you club them, they'll spoil their pelts," he said. "You could strip the fur right off a seal that had been run too hard with your fingers."
They went on, and when now and then one of the seals made a futile endeavour to get away, or stopped, and, raising itself in a curious fashion, gazed at its persecutors, the lads commenced to be sorry for them. They also felt a squeamishness that was almost too much for them when at last, after they and the seals had rested a little, the men set about the slaughter. After the first few minutes both lads slipped away, for the sight of the limp, quivering bodies and whirling clubs almost sickened them, but they dare not go too far, and the thud of the crushing blows followed them. Niven had seen Donovitch stand over his victims and beat their heads in, and the recollection of it remained with him.
"Of course you can't have seal-skins without killing seals, but they seemed so harmless—and I wish I hadn't come," he said.
His regret was even stronger when Jordan called him, and very much against his wishes he helped to roll round the horribly smelling, greasy bodies while the others flayed them. At every clutch his fingers sank in the warm, shaking blubber, and when at last the work was over his face was white and he shivered from revulsion. It was daylight now, and the men stood about him dabbled here and there with blood, and foul with grease all over, while he fancied that one could have smelt them from the schooner.
"It's beastly," he said to Appleby. "I feel as if I'd eaten no end of things that didn't agree with me."
Then Jordan sent two men back for the Russian officer, and nodded to him when he came.
"I want you to see what we've got. We're 'bout square now," he said.