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Then
he
remembered
in
a
flash
what
the
Burgomaster
gull
had
screamed
to
him
when
he
was
a
little
yearling
at
Walrus
Islet
,
and
he
tumbled
backward
in
the
water
,
for
he
knew
that
he
had
found
Sea
Cow
at
last
.
The
sea
cows
went
on
schlooping
and
grazing
and
chumping
in
the
weed
,
and
Kotick
asked
them
questions
in
every
language
that
he
had
picked
up
in
his
travels
;
and
the
Sea
People
talk
nearly
as
many
languages
as
human
beings
.
But
the
sea
cows
did
not
answer
because
Sea
Cow
can
not
talk
.
He
has
only
six
bones
in
his
neck
where
he
ought
to
have
seven
,
and
they
say
under
the
sea
that
that
prevents
him
from
speaking
even
to
his
companions
.
But
,
as
you
know
,
he
has
an
extra
joint
in
his
foreflipper
,
and
by
waving
it
up
and
down
and
about
he
makes
what
answers
to
a
sort
of
clumsy
telegraphic
code
.
By
daylight
Kotick
's
mane
was
standing
on
end
and
his
temper
was
gone
where
the
dead
crabs
go
.
Then
the
Sea
Cow
began
to
travel
northward
very
slowly
,
stopping
to
hold
absurd
bowing
councils
from
time
to
time
,
and
Kotick
followed
them
,
saying
to
himself
,
"
People
who
are
such
idiots
as
these
are
would
have
been
killed
long
ago
if
they
had
n't
found
out
some
safe
island
.
And
what
is
good
enough
for
the
Sea
Cow
is
good
enough
for
the
Sea
Catch
.
All
the
same
,
I
wish
they
'd
hurry
.
"
It
was
weary
work
for
Kotick
.
The
herd
never
went
more
than
forty
or
fifty
miles
a
day
,
and
stopped
to
feed
at
night
,
and
kept
close
to
the
shore
all
the
time
;
while
Kotick
swam
round
them
,
and
over
them
,
and
under
them
,
but
he
could
not
hurry
them
up
one-half
mile
.
As
they
went
farther
north
they
held
a
bowing
council
every
few
hours
,
and
Kotick
nearly
bit
off
his
mustache
with
impatience
till
he
saw
that
they
were
following
up
a
warm
current
of
water
,
and
then
he
respected
them
more
.
One
night
they
sank
through
the
shiny
water
--
sank
like
stones
--
and
for
the
first
time
since
he
had
known
them
began
to
swim
quickly
.
Kotick
followed
,
and
the
pace
astonished
him
,
for
he
never
dreamed
that
Sea
Cow
was
anything
of
a
swimmer
.
They
headed
for
a
cliff
by
the
shore
--
a
cliff
that
ran
down
into
deep
water
,
and
plunged
into
a
dark
hole
at
the
foot
of
it
,
twenty
fathoms
under
the
sea
.
It
was
a
long
,
long
swim
,
and
Kotick
badly
wanted
fresh
air
before
he
was
out
of
the
dark
tunnel
they
led
him
through
.
"
My
wig
!
"
he
said
,
when
he
rose
,
gasping
and
puffing
,
into
open
water
at
the
farther
end
.
"
It
was
a
long
dive
,
but
it
was
worth
it
.
"
The
sea
cows
had
separated
and
were
browsing
lazily
along
the
edges
of
the
finest
beaches
that
Kotick
had
ever
seen
.
There
were
long
stretches
of
smooth-worn
rock
running
for
miles
,
exactly
fitted
to
make
seal-nurseries
,
and
there
were
play-grounds
of
hard
sand
sloping
inland
behind
them
,
and
there
were
rollers
for
seals
to
dance
in
,
and
long
grass
to
roll
in
,
and
sand
dunes
to
climb
up
and
down
,
and
,
best
of
all
,
Kotick
knew
by
the
feel
of
the
water
,
which
never
deceives
a
true
sea
catch
,
that
no
men
had
ever
come
there
.
The
first
thing
he
did
was
to
assure
himself
that
the
fishing
was
good
,
and
then
he
swam
along
the
beaches
and
counted
up
the
delightful
low
sandy
islands
half
hidden
in
the
beautiful
rolling
fog
.
Away
to
the
northward
,
out
to
sea
,
ran
a
line
of
bars
and
shoals
and
rocks
that
would
never
let
a
ship
come
within
six
miles
of
the
beach
,
and
between
the
islands
and
the
mainland
was
a
stretch
of
deep
water
that
ran
up
to
the
perpendicular
cliffs
,
and
somewhere
below
the
cliffs
was
the
mouth
of
the
tunnel
.
