The walrus stands alone; it is a real monster of the deep. Strange and awful stories were told of it by some of the early voyagers to the Arctic Seas; but Captain Cook gave a very different account of his impressions of the walruses which he saw on the north coast of America: "They lie in herds of many hundreds on the ice, huddling over one another like swine. (They lie just like a lot of pigs in a yard.) They roar and bray so very loud, that in the night, or in foggy weather, they gave us notice of the vicinity of the ice before we could see it. We never found the whole herd asleep, some being always on the watch. These, on the approach of the boat, would awaken those next to them; and the alarm being thus gradually communicated, the whole herd would 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. They did not appear to us to be that dangerous animal which authors have described, not even when attacked. Vast numbers of them would follow us, and come close up to the boats; but the flash of the musket in the pan, or the bare pointing of it, would send them down in an instant. The female will defend her young to the last, and 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 be killed the other is certain prey." The long pendent tusks, bristly whiskers, small bloodshot eyes, and great size lent colour to the terrifying tales of the walrus. But more ancient voyagers than Captain Cook told the truth—that the "morses," as they called them, were harmless creatures, which often followed the ships from sheer curiosity. They sleep on the ice like elephantine pigs, and dive and rout on the sea-bottom for clams, cuttle-fish, and seaweeds. Probably the long tusks are used to rake up mussels and clams; they also help the walrus to climb on to the ice. A young walrus was kept for some time by the members of the Jackson-Harmsworth Expedition, and was found to be an amusing pet. One kept on board a Dundee whaler used to sleep with an Eskimo dog, and got into the same kennel with it. It ate blubber and salt pork, but liked the sailors' pea-soup better than anything else; it was most sociable, and could not bear to be alone—would tumble down the hatchway to seek the society of its beloved sailors, and scramble into the cabin if the door were open. When it fell ill and before it died, it seemed most grateful for any attention shown to it. The parent walrus shows the greatest courage in trying to defend the young one. Walruses are now scarce; but as the ivory is the only part of them of much present value, there is a chance that they may not be killed off entirely.
The True Seals.
The True Seals, with their greatly modified forms, heads set almost on to their shoulders, with no neck visible, have well-developed claws on all the toes, and in the typical species have double-rooted and small cheek-teeth. The number of the incisors is variable. The Grey Seal of the North Atlantic is a large species which visits the North British coasts and the Hebrides. One old male shot off the coast of Connemara weighed nearly 400 lbs., and was 8 feet long. It is found off Scandinavia and eastwards to the coast of Greenland, and breeds off our coasts in October and November. This is the large seal occasionally shot up Scotch lochs. Its colour is yellowish grey, varied with blots and patches of dirty black and brown.
The Common Seal.
This seal is smaller than the preceding. It breeds on parts of the Welsh and Cornish coasts, and is found on both sides of the Atlantic and in the North Pacific. It assembles in small herds, and frequents lochs, estuaries, and river-mouths. In the summer it is fond of following flounders and sea-trout up rivers. A few years ago one came up the Thames and was shot at Richmond. The young are born in June, and are greyish white. The adults are variously mottled with grey, brown, and black. The fondness of seals for music is proverbial. Macgillivray, the Scotch naturalist, said that in the Hebrides he could bring half a score of them within forty yards of him by a few notes on his flute, when they would swim about with their heads above water like so many black dogs. A seal was captured by the servants of a landowner near Clew Bay, on the west coast of Ireland, and kept tame for four years. It became so attached to the house that, after being carried out to sea three times, it returned on each occasion. The cruel wretches who owned it then blinded it, out of curiosity to see whether it could find its way back sightless. The poor animal did so after eight days.
The common seal is still fairly numerous on the rocky western coasts of the British Islands, though a few old seals, unable to forget their early habits, appear now and then in Morecambe Bay and in the Solway. It is not uncommon off the coasts of Caithness and Sutherland. It also frequents a sandbank in the Dornoch Firth, though it has been much persecuted there. The common seal is gregarious, while the grey seal usually lives only in pairs, or at most in small companies. Two or three dozen like to lie closely packed on shore with all their heads turning seawards. The white hair of the young seals—which, as already said, are born in June—is shed in a day or two, when the young take to the water. With regard to their reputed musical proclivities, some experiments made at the Zoological Gardens did not bear out this belief; but there is much evidence that in a state of nature they will approach and listen to music. The common seal has a large brain-capacity, and is a very intelligent creature. The upper parts of this seal are yellowish grey, spotted with black and brown, the under parts being silver-grey.
By permission of Herr Carl Hagenbeck] [Hamburg.
WALRUS AND SEA-LION.
Another photograph of the walrus tamed by Herr Carl Hagenbeck. Notice the sea-lion in the right-hand corner, which also formed one of the same performing troupe.