red at the ship; now from sheer fat rolling on their backs, and
lying for a few seconds tail and flippers beating the air helpless.
These baby seals resemble on the ice nothing so much as the South Sea
parrot fish--that is, a complete round head, with somewhere in the
sphere two huge black dots for eyes and a similar one for a nose.
These three form the corners of a small triangle, and except for the
tail one could not easily tell which was the back and which the belly
of a young white-coat--especially in stormy weather. For it is a
well-ascertained fact that Nature makes the marvellous provision that
in storm and snow they grow fattest and fastest. I have marvelled
greatly how it is possible for any hot-blooded creature to enjoy so
immensely this terribly cold water as do these old seals. They paddle
about, throw themselves on their backs, float and puff out their
breasts, flapping their flippers like paws over their chests.

Sunday morning we were lying off Fogo Island when some men came aboard
and reported the wreck of the S.S. Wolf in the ice. She got round the
island, a wind offshore having cleared the ice from the land. Three
other vessels were behind her. Hardly, however, had she got round when
the northerly wind brought the ice back. The doomed ship now lay
between the main or fixed frozen shore ice and the immense floe which
was impelled by the north wind acting on its whole irregular surface.
The force was irresistible. The Wolf backed and butted and got twenty
yards into a nook in the main ice, and lay there helpless as an
infant. On then swept the floe, crashed into the fixed ice, shattered
its edge, rose up out of water over it, which is called "rafting,"
forced itself on the unfortunate ship, rose over her bulwarks, crushed
in her sides, and only by nipping her tightly avoided sinking her
immediately. Seeing that all was lost, Captain Kean got the men and
boats onto the pans, took all they could save of food and clothes, but
before he had saved his own clothing, the ice parted enough to let her
through and she sank like a stone, her masts catching and breaking in
pieces as she went. A sorrowful march for the shore now began over the
ice, as the three hundred men started for home, carrying as much as
they could on their backs. Many would have to face empty cupboards and
hard times; all would have days of walking and rowing and camping
before they could get home. One hundred miles would be the least, two
and