Sea Lions. Mr. Theodore Lyman, who had excellent opportunities of observing the habits of the Sea Lions on the Seal Rocks of San Francisco, furnished Mr. Allen with a graphic account of their movements, from which we quote the following: "As they approach to effect a landing, the head only appears decidedly above water. This is their familiar element and they swim with great speed and ease, quite unmindful of the heavy surf, and of the breakers on the ledges. In landing they are apt to take advantage of a heavy wave which helps them to get the forward flippers on terra firma. As the wave retreats they begin to struggle up the steep rocks, twisting the body from side to side, with a clumsy worm-like motion, and thus alternately work their flippers into positions, where they may force the body a little onward. At such times they have a general appearance of sprawling over the ground. It is quite astonishing to see how they will go up surfaces having even a greater inclination than 45° and where a man would have to creep with much exertion. In their onward path they are accompanied by the loud barking of all the seals they pass; and these cries may be heard a great distance. They play among themselves continually by rolling on each other and feigning to bite; often too, they will amuse themselves by pushing off those that are trying to land. All this is done in a very cumbrous manner, and is accompanied by incessant barking. As they issue from the water their fur is dark and shining; but as it dries, it becomes of a yellowish brown. Then they appear to feel either too dry or too hot, for they move to the nearest point from which they may tumble into the sea. I saw many roll off a ledge at least twenty feet high, and fall like so many huge brown sacks into the water, dashing up showers of spray."
Sea Bears. The Northern Sea Bear is otherwise known as the Northern Fur Seal. Captain Charles Bryant gives a very interesting account of these singular animals, in which he describes them as approaching and taking possession of the shores of St. Paul's Island near the coast of Alaska, about the middle, or towards the end of April, when the snow has melted and the drift ice from the north has all passed. A few old male seals first make their appearance and reconnoitre for two or three days, afterwards climbing the slopes and taking possession of the rookeries, each male reserving about a square rod for himself and his wives. The scouts then return and younger male seals soon begin to arrive in small detachments, but are prevented from landing by their elders and are so forced to remain in the water or go to the upland above. By the middle of June all the males have arrived, and having adjusted their differences and divided the rookeries between them, await the arrival of the females. "These appear in small numbers at first but increase as the season advances, till the middle of July; when the rookeries are all full, the females often overlapping each other. The bachelor seals swim all day along the shore, escorting and driving the females on to the rocks as fast as they arrive. As soon as a female reaches the shore, the nearest male goes down to meet her, making meanwhile a noise like the clucking of a hen to her chickens. He bows to her, and coaxes her until he gets between her and the water so that she cannot escape him. Then his manner changes, and with a harsh growl he drives her to a place in his harem. This continues until the lower row of harems is nearly full. Then the males higher up select the time when their more fortunate neighbours are off their guard to steal their wives. This they do by taking them in their mouths and lifting them over the heads of the other females, and carefully placing them in their own harem carrying them as carefully as cats do their kittens. Those still higher up pursue the same method until the whole space is occupied. Frequently a struggle ensues between two males for the possession of the same female, and both seizing her at once, pull her in two, or terribly lacerate her with their teeth. When the space is all filled, the old male walks around complacently reviewing his family, scolding those who crowd or disturb the others, and fiercely driving off all intruders. This surveillance always keeps him actively occupied." After the birth of their young which takes place towards the end of July, the old males who have been four months without food, go to some distance from the shore to feed, teaching the young to swim on their return. "By the last of October the seals begin to leave the islands in small companies. The males going last and by themselves."
The Walrus. The Walrus. (Trichechus rosmarus) is a large and unwieldy creature. It bears a stronger resemblance to the seal than to any other quadruped, but it is distinguished by the proportions of its body and its elephant-like tusks. Vast herds formerly frequented the shores of the islands scattered between America and Asia, the coasts of Davis's Straits and those of Hudson's Bay. They have been found as far south as the Magdalen Islands in the Gulf of St. Lawrence. Now they are not met with in great numbers, except on the shores of Spitzbergen and the remotest northern borders of America. They attain to a very large size. The head is oval, short, small, and flat in front, having the eyes set in deep sockets so as to be moved forwards, or retracted at pleasure. On land the Walrus is a slow and clumsy animal, but in the water its motions are sufficiently quick and easy. When attacked, the Walrus is both fierce and formidable, and if in company with its young, becomes very furious, attempting to destroy its enemies by rising and hooking its tusks over the sides of the boat, in order to sink it.
Captain Cook thus describes a herd of walruses he met with off the north coast of America. He says: "They lie in herds of many hundreds upon the ice, huddling over one another, like swine; and roar or bray so very loud, that in the night, or in foggy weather, they gave us notice of the ice, before we could see it. We never found the whole herd asleep, some being always upon the watch. These, on the approach of the boat, would awake those next to them; and the alarm being thus gradually communicated, the whole herd would be awake presently. But they were seldom in a hurry to get away, till after they had been once fired at. They then would tumble over one another into the sea, in the utmost confusion; and, if we did not, at the first discharge, kill those we fired at, we generally lost them, though mortally wounded. They did not appear to us to be that dangerous animal which some authors have described, not even when attacked. They are more so in appearance than reality. Vast numbers of them would follow, and come close up to the oars; but the flash of the musket in the pan, or even the bare pointing of one at them, would send them down in an instant. The female will defend her young to the very last, at the expense of her own life, whether in the water or upon the ice. Nor will the young one quit the dam, though she be dead; so that, if one is killed, the other is certain prey. The dam, when in the water, holds the young one between her fore arms."
The Common Seal. The True Seals are divided by Dr. Gray into thirteen genera with eighteen species, of which the Common Seal, the Ringed Seal, the Harp Seal, the Grey Seal, the Sea Leopard, the Sea Elephant, and the Bladder-nose Hooded Seal are the best known. The common seal has a round head which in front bears some resemblance to that of the otter. Its average length is about five feet and its general colour of a yellowish gray, varied or spotted with brown or blackish in different degrees, according to the age of the animal. The Common Seal frequents the sea-coasts perhaps throughout the world, but is most numerous in high northern latitudes, and furnishes the inhabitants of those frigid regions with nearly all their necessaries and luxuries. Enormous numbers are caught annually for the sake of their skins and oil. The Harp Seal frequents the coast of Newfoundland and is so named from the harp-shaped band which marks the backs of the males. The Sea Elephant is the largest of the seals. It is said to attain to the length of twenty-five to thirty feet, and a circumference of fifteen to eighteen feet. It belongs to the Antarctic sea.
"Seals when taken young," says Captain Brown, "are capable of being completely domesticated, will answer to their name, and follow their master from place to place. In January, 1819, a gentleman, in the neighbourhood of Burnt-island, county of Fife, in Scotland, completely succeeded in taming a seal. Its singularities attracted the curiosity of strangers daily. It appeared to possess all the sagacity of a dog, lived in its master's house, and ate from his hand. In his fishing excursions, this gentleman generally took it with him, when it afforded no small entertainment. If thrown into the water, it would follow for miles the track of the boat; and although thrust back by the oars, it never relinquished its purpose. Indeed, it struggled so hard to regain its seat, that one would imagine its fondness for its master had entirely overcome the natural predilection for its native element."
The Seal's Docility. Notwithstanding the absence of external ears the common seal has a remarkable sense of hearing and a keen taste for sweet sounds. Seals have been known to follow a vessel, for miles, upon the deck of which a violin or a flute has been played. To quote Sir Walter Scott:
"Rude Heiskar's seals, through surges dark,
Will long pursue the minstrel's bark."
They are also easily tamed, when they are found to be exceedingly affectionate to those who treat them kindly. Some years ago a farmer, residing on the east coast of Scotland, close to the sea-shore, obtained a young seal for the amusement of his children, who soon became exceedingly fond of it. Some time after, the farmer, having had a bad year for his crops, was told by an old woman in the village that he would never prosper as long as he kept that seal on his ground. The foolish man giving heed to the superstition sent away the seal in a boat some distance from land. Towards evening, as the children were sitting on the sea-shore, what was their joy on beholding their seal rising out of the water, and making its way straight back to them again. For some months they were allowed to retain their pet; but as the farmer's prospects did not brighten, he again determined to get rid of it, and for that purpose, hearing of a ship that was soon to sail for the Baltic, took the little seal, and gave it in charge to some sailors, begging them to keep it in the hold of the ship till they arrived at their destination, and then to throw it into the sea. This was accordingly done, but the faithful seal was not to be daunted; ere long, it reappeared, to the great delight of the children, who begged their father never to send it away again. The farmer gave a doubtful assent, for a suspicion still lurked in his mind, owing to the superstitious words of the old woman, that the presence of the seal had an evil effect upon his crops; and with these ideas preying upon his mind, the farmer conceived the cruel thought of putting out the seal's eyes with a view of preventing it from finding its way back, and again sending it away to sea. Unknown to his children, he carried this barbarous plan into execution; and they only discovered the loss of their favourite too late to aid in its recall, as the ship in which it had been placed had already sailed for Norway. Some days after the departure of the vessel, a fearful storm arose. The farmer and his family were glad enough to close up their shutters, and shut out as much as possible the wailings of the wind, as it swept in furious gusts round the house. They had scarcely retired to rest, when a faint and plaintive cry struck upon their ears—and repeated again it seemed to be—during the momentary lulls of the storm. The farmer continued to listen, but hearing nothing more, he descended to the front door and opened it; a dark object lay before him, on the very threshold, and stooping down to touch it, what was his astonishment to behold the poor blind, devoted little seal, apparently dead. The farmer was greatly touched; he took up the little body gently and carried it into the kitchen, and used every effort to restore it to life but in vain.