that ten at least were still fast asleep; some were flat on their backs and as
comfortable and inelegant as a man under similar circumstances. Those that
were awake, among which was one immense old male, seemed too dry and sleepy
to take much notice, although one grey-faced old patriarch stared me right in
the face and evidently saw me plainly. It seemed a shame to disturb so peaceful
a scene, but I wanted a Shetland Seal of the largest kind, so had to harden my
heart and pull trigger on the big fellow. He never moved an inch, but went
quietly to sleep for good. At the shot I looked round to where I ‘had previously
spied another twenty or thirty Seals on rocks some four hundred yards to the
south, and saw a small shower of Seals falling into the water, and two other
clumps of Seals on big boulders still further on, which were not disturbed; so
after boating our first capture (which measured six feet to the end of his tail)
we continued our journey beneath the precipices, accompanied by a small army of
wondering mermen. Among them were two very large old males, I think nearly
the largest I have ever seen, and though the temptation to have a shot at one of
them was great I resisted it, as I feared to lose the beast. Presently beneath the
lovely waterfall, which comes floating like a bridal veil from the top of the
precipice, were more and yet more Seals, so I began counting the number, adding
them to those which I had already seen. During the next hour we kept
disturbing little groups off the rocks as we passed on to the south. I actually
counted over three hundred Seals, and have little doubt that at least a hundred
more were about the rocks which did not come within my view, and in this
case I was careful not to estimate Seals that followed us in the water, for these
of course kept appearing and reappearing. On some immense boulders nearly
opposite to Gruna Stack I saw one hoary old male lying on a small rock ;
another large rock stood in the way, so taking cover behind this I soon found
myself lying within sixty yards of the big fellow, who was quite unaware of
my presence. Thinking he was worth a shot I fired at his head, when after
rolling twice over he lolloped into the sea. Jim Harrison was up to the spot in
a moment, and' as the Seal again appeared rolling on the surface I gave him
another shot, which killed him at once. Luckily he floated and Jim had his gaff
into him at once. The Seal was a very old male, in length 5 f t 9 in., and had
been struck in two places by the first bullet which, being a defective one, had
split in two pieces in the air, one portion hitting the animal in the side, the other
in the neck, only making a small flesh wound, so it was really lucky we got him.
Opposite the Gruna Stack the precipices rose to five hundred feet above the sea,
and the echo when the rifle was fired was truly awe-inspiring. We felt as if the
whole of that mountain of rock was about to fall on our heads.’
In nearly all the islands of the Sound of Yell the Common Seal is abundant
at times. In 1901, when I visited Lamba, Little Roe, Bigga, Sliga Skerry, and
Brother Isle, I saw very few Seals except at the Little Holm opposite North
Rooe, where there were about twenty-five, mostly immatures. Most of the Seals
were off fishing elsewhere, owing to the fine weather, but at times large numbers
gather together on Sliga Skerry and Brother Isle.1 The Muckle and the
Little Skerry, lying far to the north-east of Whalsey, are other favourite resorts
of the Common Seal in Shetland, as are also Linga and Hascovay to the
east of Yell, and the Geos of the West Noups on the west side. On the West
Noups I saw about forty lying up on three of these ‘ Geos,’ and killed four adult
males for the crofters at Gloup, who were anxious to have thé skin for shoes.
Here I saw one day the largest vitulina I have ever seen. From the top of the
cliff I had just killed a male in one of the caverns, and in trying to discharge
the empty cartridge case I found that the action of the Mannlicher had locked
and would not move, so, having no tools handy, it was impossible to take the
rifle to pieces and reload. As my companion, a crofter named Robert Henderson,
and I were about to set off for home, he advised me to inspect another open sea
cave a little further on. Looking carefully over the cliff I saw within sixty yards
eight full-grown Seals lying on a slab, and a huge Yellow Seal swimming up
and down, about to land. In the course of a minute or so he ran in on an
incoming breaker, and, getting a hold, flopped up on to the dry rock. Of course
the beasts we don’t get are always the biggest, but I have no hesitation in saying
that this was the largest vitulina I have ever seen; he was well over six feet
to the end of the tail. I watched him for half an hour with the telescope
and then went home. During the next two days I walked the sixteen miles to
the cavern and back twice, with the hope of shooting the monster, but I did not
see him again. Doubtless he is there still, and I may yet make his acquaintance.
The Common Seal is still plentiful in Unst, but not so abundant as in
Dr. Edmondston’s time, who, writing from Balta Sound in 1837, says that he has
often seen a hundred at a time.
The Common Seal is not nearly so widely distributed in Ireland as in
Scotland. On the east coast a few migratory Seals keep passing to and fro, and
1 On Samfrey, off Mossbank, I counted in August 1904 over a hundred Seals. Amongst the Common Seals were
several immature Grey Seals.