upon. The non-fulfilment of his prognostications does not
humiliate him: it seems to inspire more tenacious belief.

The sea serpent, whatever that might be, has caused mariners
of every age much perturbation. Periodically there are
sensational reports emanating from some sea captain, that
the real bleary-eyed monster has at last been discovered.
Illimitable dimensions are given, together with much detail
of its many peculiarities. Three years ago, in the month of
May, I was cruising with some friends in my schooner yacht.
We had traversed many of the Scottish Lochs, amongst them
Loch Fyne, where the finest herring in the world abound, and
are much sought after by fishermen as well as by
bottle-nosed whales. We were making our way from Inverary
towards Campbeltown, and as the wind was shy, off the north
side of Arran, we were hugging the land in order to lead to
our destination. A good wind was carried as far as Loch
Ryan, when it slowly died away and became flat calm. One of
my friends and myself were walking the deck together, when
he excitedly observed, "What is that on our starboard beam;
is it a reef?" I assured him there were no shoals in the
vicinity of the yacht; and I took up the field-glasses, and
saw quite plainly that it was a bottle-nosed whale. It soon
began to move and send masses of water into the air. The
calm continued, and some anxiety was felt lest the leviathan
should playfully come towards us and test its power of
lifting. It passed close to where we lay, and then shaped a
course towards the opposite shore. Naturally our interest
was excited, and as a favourable breeze sprang up and
gradually strengthened we were able to follow at a discreet