“Here we are, all right,” said Willy.
“Why, boys, how could you get down there?”
Willy told him.
“What has become of the seal?” asked the captain.
“I suppose he is somewhere not far off, if he hasn’t reached the sea,” answered Peter. “Yes, sure enough, and there he comes.”
The seal at that moment appeared, rushing back, having encountered the men at the outlet.
“Run, Dicey, run,” cried Peter, “or he’ll be upon us.”
The midshipmen were caught in a trap. It was more easy to climb down the side of the gully than to get up again. The monster came rushing towards them with open mouth. Willy this time determined not to fly, but, flourishing his axe, stood on the defensive. The consequences might have been serious had not the captain, getting sight of the animal at that moment, fired. The bullet struck it on the head, and though it did not stop its course altogether, Willy was enabled to spring out of its way, and Tom and Dick, coming up, despatched it with their clubs. As no seals had been killed for several days, the meat was very acceptable.
“We may have some seal-steaks for dinner, at all events,” said Peter, as the men prepared to cut up the animal.
Having performed their task, they were directed to carry the remainder of the seal’s flesh to the village, while the captain and midshipmen, with a good supply of steaks, made their way up the side of the mountain. Following the seal-track, they at length found the doctor, who was sitting down, waiting their return.