him into the sea. After sinking down, down, nobody knows how far, they
at length reached a door, which, being open, led them into a range of
apartments, filled with inhabitants--not people, but seals, who could
nevertheless speak and feel like human folk; and how much was the seal-
killer surprised to find that he himself had been unconsciously
transformed into the like image. If it were not so, he would probably
have died from the want of breath. The nature of the poor fisher's
thoughts may be more easily conceived than described. Looking at the
nature of the quarters into which he had landed, all hopes of escape from
them appeared wholly chimerical, whilst the degree of comfort, and length
of life which the barren scene promised him were far from being
flattering. The "Roane," who all seemed in very low spirits, appeared to
feel for him, and endeavoured to soothe the distress which he evinced by
the amplest assurances of personal safety. Involved in sad meditation on
his evil fate, he was quickly roused from his stupor by his guide's
producing a huge gully or joctaleg, the object of which he supposed was
to put an end to all his earthly cares. Forlorn as was his situation,
however, he did not wish to be killed; and, apprehending instant
destruction, he fell down, and earnestly implored for mercy. The poor
generous animals did not mean him any harm, however much his former
conduct deserved it, and he was accordingly desired to pacify himself,
and cease his cries.

"Did you ever see that knife before?" said the stranger to the fisher.

The latter instantly recognised his own knife, which he had that day
stuck into a seal, and with which it had escaped, and acknowledged it was
formerly his own, for what would be the use of denying it?

"Well," rejoined the guide, "the apparent seal which made away with it is