“Oh, what is that?” she cried, in genuine alarm, gazing seaward with terror-laden eyes.
It took some time to unmask the strange denizen of the deep which she had discovered. Three seals, lying in a row on a flat rock, looked remarkably like the accepted pictures of a sea-serpent, but the illusion was destroyed when one of the creatures dived, followed, in turn, by each of the others, in one, two, three order.
“We must rise before dawn to-morrow,” said Maseden. “Seals are good to eat. You and I, Sturgess, can cut one off when the pack comes on shore.”
“Seals may be good to eat, but they will also be hard to eat if we are unable to cook them,” put in Madge.
“There were times to-day when I could have eaten seal cooked or uncooked,” admitted Nina.
“Probably such times will recur to-morrow,” said Maseden. “You will soon grow tired of oysters for every meal. Did you ever hear of the sailing ship which took a cargo of bottled porter from Dublin to Cape Town? After crossing the line she was caught in a gale, disabled, and carried hundreds of miles out of her course. She ran short of water, so, during three wretched weeks, officers and crew drank stout for breakfast, dinner and supper. When, at last, the vessel reached Table Bay, if porter was suggested as a beverage to any member of the ship’s company there was instant trouble.”
“Still,” said Madge thoughtfully, “I don’t think I shall like raw seal.... You are very clever, Mr. Maseden. You must find some means of making a fire.”
Maseden glanced up at the darkening sky.
“At present the pressing problem is where are we to sleep,” he said.