Meanwhile Robbie and Tom, who had my harpoon, were having a hard
fight. Their seal had been struck once with the harpoon on the left
shoulder. Tom tried to intercept its retreat, and just as it was
entering the water he fell down upon it with all his weight, at the
same time grasping its wounded flipper in his two hands. The seal,
though weak, drew him some way over the slippery stones and into
the sea; but Tom proved victor. Rising on his knees in the water,
he wrapped both his arms round the seal, and, with the assistance
of Rosson, succeeded in carrying it ashore, where it was finally
killed.

We had heavy work conveying our two seals up the beach to the place
where we had left our dead bird; and there with our knives we
proceeded to secure the skins and the blubber, leaving the
carcasses behind for the cormorants and carrion crows.

Willie Hercus and I were finished first, and we carefully folded up
our perfect sealskin. But Tom, who was less accustomed to the work,
fumbled away awkwardly, muttering to himself when his sharp blade
cut into the skin instead of neatly parting it from the body.

As we sat on a rock waiting for our companions, Selta went sniffing
about on her own account and rooting into the far corners of the
old cave. She at length found her way to the dead hen harrier, as
it lay on a slab of flagstone. Hercus called her off as she put her
nose too closely to the bird. But Selta was following her
instincts; for, in turning the bird with her nose, she disturbed a
small rat which was coolly making its meal there. I ran to examine
the damage done to the hawk (for I was anxious to give the bird
uninjured to Mr. Drever), while Willie followed the dog into the