posed of
living seals.

"Why, there are millions of them!" he cried.

Right from the water's edge back halfway to the cliffs, and as far as
the eye could see into the white sea-mist, every inch of the ground was
covered. Looking at those closest to him, Colin noticed that they lay in
any and every possible attitude, head up or down, on their backs or
sides, or curled up in a ball; wedged in between sharp rocks or on a
level stretch--position seemed to make no difference. Nor were any of
them still for a minute, for even those which were asleep twitched
violently and wakened every few minutes. And over the thousands of
silver-gray cow seals, the sea-catches, the lords of the harem, three or
four times the size of their mates, stood watch and ward unceasingly.

"Why do you herd them so close together?" asked Colin. "I should have
thought there was lots of room on the beaches of the island."

"They herd themselves," the agent said. "Don't go anywhere unless it is
crowded. The more a place is jammed, the more anxious they are to get
there. Newcomers won't go to empty harems. Unhappy with only one or two
other cows. Try and find room in a crowded bunch where one sea-catch is
looking after thirty females."

"But," said Colin, looking at the group which was nearest to him, "there
are a lot of little baby seals in there! They'll get trodden on!"

"They are trodden on. Often," said the agent. "Can't be helped. Only a
few pups right in the harems and they are all small. Obviously! Go away
when they are a week old. Wander from the harem to find playfellows.
Make up 'pods' or nurseries. Sometimes four or five hundred in one
nursery. Stay until the end of the season. There's a pod of pups," he
continued, pointing up the beach; "about sixty of them, I should judge.
Happy-looking? Clearly!"

"They look like big black kittens," said Colin, as he watched them
tumbling about on the pebbly beach, "and just as full of fun. Can they
swim as soon as they are born, Mr. Nagge?"

"Seals have to learn to swim. Same as boys," he answered. "They teach
themselves, apparently! Young seal, thrown into deep water, will drown.
Queer. Become wonderful swimmers, too."

"About how long does it take them to learn?" Colin asked.

"Don't begin until they are three weeks old," was the reply. "Practise
several hours a day. Swim well in about a month."

"Why don't the father or the mother seals teach them?" queried the boy.

"A sea-catch doesn't s