Crowded along above the wave-washed shoreline in the Bering Straits, the whole slope seemed to be covered with brown-looking rocks that came to life and wobbled. In my eagerness for a picture, I approached an old seal bull perched on a rock, and started cranking my camera. Suddenly, Mr. Seal, puffed up in rage, flopped humping toward me like a fellow in a sack race with his feet tied. Widely opened mouth, lined with sharp teeth, backed by energy that meant business, forced me to a hasty retreat. "Don't go too near. He'll bite your leg off," yelled the guardian of the seal colonies. "An old bull seal selects his home site and his harem, and guards it with his life. Anyone that approaches is to him just a rival bull who wants to steal his wives."
The aim of the government is to protect the seals on the island during the breeding season. In the old days of Russian dominion, the fur seals of the Pribilofs were a most valuable resource. After the United States bought Alaska with its many outlying islands, it was the custom of hunters to pursue and kill seals-males, females, and young-in the open ocean, so that after years of such indiscriminate killing, these animals were reduced to the point of final disappearance. Now, the U.S., England, and Japan entered into a treaty abolishing seal hunting and entrusting the United States with the guardianship of the fur seals.
Since that time, the seal rookeries have been handled very much as an intelligent farmer cares for the domestic stock on his land. The guard who was standing by my side explained how each bull had gathered about him cows, ranging in number from five to a hundred according to his favorable location on the beach and to his fighting prowess. As a rule, people are not allowed to disturb the animals after this season, but I was given special permission to edge close enough to get intimate views.
I soon discovered however, that it was I that needed a guard, not the seals! Down the rocky slope at the edge of the rookery a mother seal fanned the pup with a ludicrously swaying flipper. While keeping a sharp eye on the old bull, half asleep in the sun, I had not noticed another monster behind the rock farther up. Suddenly he charged and cut me of from retreat. I left the camera standing and dodged behind a huge boulder, only to find myself literally between the devil and the deep blue sea. Just as I was wondering how I was going to get out with both legs whole, the master of the lady I was photographing discovered the rival bull in his ow harem. With a roar he galloped to the fray and a terrifying fight followed. My camera was in imminent danger, but my guard grabbed it and we escaped together in the melee.
About this Author
David is the author of many articles including Best Friend Quotes and also the author of Best life quotes
other articles:
temporary job agencies
Princess Cruise Line
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