During this pleasant season the Little Seal, now in the enjoyment of his liberty, made friends with a very old Herring-gull. The bird lighted upon his rock one afternoon and saluted him in friendliest fashion.
“I fish for my living just as you do,” he remarked, “but you have some advantages over me. However, there is room for all of us, so we might as well be friends. You will find some of my family with your people all through the summer. We sometimes warn them of the approach of man.”
“What is man?” queried the Young Seal, “and why do you warn us?”
“Man,” explained the Herring-gull, “is the sworn foe of all things in the heavens above, on the earth beneath, and in the waters under the earth. He shoots birds in the air, pursues beasts on the land, and catches fish from the sea. If he saw you now he would certainly kill you, not because you have done him any harm, but because you are alive. He would probably shoot you, and say you were a nice little fellow, for he does not bear malice.”
“But that would be murder, would it not?” asked the Seal, opening his eyes to the fullest extent.
“Oh, dear no,” replied the Herring-gull, “it would be sport,” and flew away, leaving the puzzled youngster to think the matter out for himself.
With September, another change of colour came to the seals. Their coat became rather darker than before, and the black spots, that began on the head and spread in ever growing patches over the body, reappeared. The flippers darkened to a heavy brown, and with all these changes came an altered mood, and the males began to fight for possession of the females.
The Young Seal took no part in these contests, though his coat showed the influence of the season; he was little more than a baby, and, on the advice of the Herring-gull, he kept away from the scene of the fighting. He had made small progress in growth since weaning time came, the fish diet that made him strong had done little to help him to develop. This mattered not at all; strength rather than length was needed to face the rough days that lay before the seal world when September was at an end, and the long fight between adult male seals was over. There was very little love in the camp during that season. Polygamy prevailed, and the conqueror took as many wives as he could keep away from his weaker brethren; but when the last fight had been fought and the early cold snaps reminded them of the hard season ahead, friendly relations were resumed throughout the community.
At the bidding of the storm-wind the sea parted with its beautiful tints, the water became very cold and lashed itself into terrible fury, and foamed like a bayed wolf. Many a rough buffet it gave to the Young Seal, and not a few bruises, but the low temperature did no harm to him. He had enough pure oil in his body to withstand Arctic cold, and on these northern Scottish shores the temperature never approached Arctic severity. His friend the Herring-gull had gone; he saw no birds now within speaking distance, though a few gulls passed down wind every few hours of the day, trying in vain to steer along the road they wished to follow.
As the winter advanced, the seals split into small groups on some family basis of their own, and passed most of their time on the rocks, climbing up from the water by the aid of the strong nails in their foreflippers and the muscles of the tail. They always faced the water from which they had risen, and their attitude at this season was a very listless one, as if the triumph of wind and rain were not altogether to their liking.