The Professor, who had been much ruffled and excited over his encounter, welcomed this inquiry with a restored equanimity.
“Ah! Goritz, that is a contribution to science. On our return I shall call the attention of Lloyd Morgan and other animal psychologists to this novel observation. Antoine, it has long been known that the rhythmical oscillation of a flexible substance, a rag, hat, towel, banner, exercises a peculiar influence on animals. It will allay the ferocity of a mad dog or alarm him. Color has something to do with it, as instance the red rag which irritates the bull. Now—” here the Professor looked critically at his steamer cap, and may have mentally noted that it was a green and brown Scotch plaid. “Now this influence seems curiously reinforced if the substance or garment is taken in the mouth and shaken.”
The incorrigible Hopkins had again buried his face in his cupped palms.
“No reason that is incontrovertible has been assigned for this, but I assume that it is an appeal to a latent demonism in animals, which in its later evolution appears as devil-worship in aboriginal people. I most fortunately recalled this, and at a critical moment, when I was threatened with the necessity of retreating into the sea—” The poorly repressed vibrations in Hopkins’ body might have been referred to sympathy or—something else. “A quite unnecessary ablution, let us say,” and the Professor smiled benignantly at me, as perhaps the one most gravely interested in his narrative. “I thought of this remarkable device, which I believe has something of the nature of an incantation. The effect was miraculous. This simple gesture held the seals at bay; I think it is quite demonstrable also that there is a physiological basis for their evident stupefaction—the optic nerve. These animals you know have very poor sight—the optic nerve is disturbed and a cerebral vertigo is induced which, like—”
“That settles it,” cried Hopkins, stumbling to his feet with a very red face and hurrying across the sands. “Professor, there’s something worse than seals on this island; there are the U. S. officials, and—I guess they are charmproof.”
“Exactly,” assented the Professor in an absent-minded way, “exactly, but had you gentlemen restrained yourselves a little, I believe I could have advanced an interesting corroboration to a hitherto dimly—”
A gun shot was heard. It evidently came from our men in the adjoining cove and we smothered the Professor’s scientific homily with a shout, and accelerated our departure.
When we reached the boat we found some natives and two resident officials surrounding our men, the former somewhat excited and demonstrative. The officials questioned us and were informed of our purely accidental visit, and with that explanation, as the fog had increased and there were threatening symptoms of a blow, we manned our boats and got away.
Captain Coogan resumed our course, making northwest for Indian Point, amid heavy ice, whose leads were carefully followed until they liberated us in open water, and the immediate danger of being nipped was past. The next morning I was awakened—my room adjoined Hopkins’—by hearing the American reciting in a voice loud enough to justify forcible remonstrance:
“I met my mates in the morning (and Oh, but I am old),