“The tide had receded altogether from the other side of the sand-flats, so that they joined the marshy mainland, and as my father landed he saw that there was a big herd of twenty or thirty seals lying out on those flats. It was before a bounty was set upon their heads, when they were very plentiful and tame. My father was not in the least afraid of them and was proceeding to dig his clams peacefully, when he suddenly saw that the whole herd was thrown into a wild panic by the discovery that he was between them and the water. They broke into a floundering stampede and came straight for him—or rather for the water behind him—at a fast clip, half sliding, half throwing themselves along. A funny sight they must have been! Father says one big fellow came at him with his mouth wide open: the four sharp white teeth in front, two upper and two lower, shining. So Dad just turned tail and ran for the water as he had never run before; not waiting to jump into his boat, he plunged into the channel up to his waist!”
“But the seals wouldn’t have attacked him, would they?” incredulously from Nixon.
“No; I think not. But he might not have been able to keep his feet. They would, perhaps, have struck him with their heavy bodies and knocked him down. And to feel a dozen or so of damp seals sliding over a fellow, their weights ranging anywhere from a hundred to two hundred and fifty pounds, wouldn’t be a pleasant sensation, to say the least!”
“I guess not!” chuckled the Owls.
“I’d like to catch a creamy pup-seal—isn’t that what you call the only child, the young one? ’Twould be fun to tame it,” said Nixon. “Perhaps I’ll get a chance to do so when we camp out on the Sugarloaf Dunes next summer. Aren’t we going to have a camp there for two weeks during the end of August and beginning of September, Mr. Scoutmaster? ”
“I hope so, if I can get permission from the landlord who owns the dunes.”
“Maybe we’ll run across Dave Baldwin too—the vaurien, as Toiney calls him—if he stays round there a part of the time?” This from Leon.
“That wouldn’t be a desirable encounter, I’m afraid. Now! has any scout a suggestion to make that would be useful in planning our work for this winter?” Scoutmaster Estey looked round at the ring of boyish faces, reflecting the sevenfold glow, at Harold, lying on his face and hands, blinking dreamily under Toiney’s wing, while the firelight burnished the latter’s swarthy features beneath the tasseled cap.
“Mr. Scoutmaster!” Nixon Warren sprang to his feet impulsively, “Marcoo and I have a suggestion to offer,”—Nixon glanced at his cousin Coombsie,—”it hasn’t any direct relation to our work, but we humbly submit it as an idea that might be useful, not only to our boy scout organization here, but to the movement everywhere all over the world.”
“Ho! Ho! What do you know about that? Out with it, Nix, if it’s worth anything,” came the dubious encouragement of his brother Owls.