'You need not wait,' she said; and opening the door, I saw the servant

waiting to let me out. I knuckled my forehead again, and putting on

rather a clumsier limp than before, got out of the house into the rain

and mud. Rain and mud! What did I care for rain and mud now?

'Sergeant Nickham,' says I, when I got fairly out of range of her

windows, for I wouldn't trust _her_ with so much as a wink of

mine--'Sergeant Nickham,' I said, 'you are the boy! If you can't

command your face, there isn't a man in the force as can. If you

haven't got a memory for faces, find me the man who has, that's all

about it!'

Why, of all the extraordinary capers that I ever tumbled to in my

life, I never came near such a caper as this. Miss Doyle! _That_ was

Miss Doyle, was it? Right enough, no doubt; but if she wasn't also the

sham clerk who came and found that I was put on the watch by Mr Byrle,

I didn't know a horse from a hedgehog--that's all. The quick look of

her eye, her sharp quick voice, the shape of her face, the very way

she stood--lor! it was all as clear as daylight. But then I thought,

and I kept on thinking till I had got back to the works, what could

_she_ have to do with stealing engine-fittings? 'Twasn't likely as she

had anything to do with that. It was past all question in my mind as

to her being the same party. I knew it for certain; and then came the

point--What did she dress herself up for and come a-spying on me and

her uncle?--for she was Mr Byrle's niece.

I hadn't got to the bottom of this by any means, by the time I got back

to the works; however, I gave my message very respectfully to Mr Forey;

and offered Bob the gatekeeper his sixpence back, with many thanks.

'No, old chap,' he says; 'keep it at present. If you get on regular,

I'll take it off you and a pint into the bargain the day you draw

your first week's cash; but a fellow out of work knows the vally of a

sixpence.'

The same ferryman took me back; and his temper hadn't improved, I

found. I fancied too that he was particular watchful of me, and so

I was particular watchful of him; and from long practice I could do

it better and more secretly than he could, although he _had_ got a

cross-eye. Lor! I could tell when we were nearing that same ship that

the man climbed out of; I could tell it by the cunning way in which the

boatman looked at me, to see if I would take any special notice of it.

I didn't know what his little game might be, but I determined to spoil

it; so I stooped down, and was tying up my shoe, making quite a long

job of it, till after we had fairly passed the craft, and then I looked

up with an innocent face that quite settled him.

Just as we pushed up to the hard (that's the landing-place), he says to

me: 'Do you often cross here?'

'Not often,' I said; 'at anyrate, not yet. I generally cross a little

higher up.' (That was very true; about Westminster Bridge was my

place; if he liked to think I meant somewhere about Tooley Street or

Billingsgate, of course I couldn't help it.) 'But I have left my old

quarters, and so I shall often go this way.'

'Ah,' he says, 'you live at the _Yarmouth Smack_, don't you?'

'The what?' I said. 'Where's that?'

'The _Yarmouth Smack_,' he says again, pointing to the side we had come

from. I knew where the _Yarmouth Smack_ was well enough; but I shook my

head, and said: 'No; I live on this side of the water; but I shall live

anywhere when I can get work.'

He didn't say any more; I did not suppose he would; but there was

something uncommonly suspicious in his talking about the _Yarmouth

Smack_, something more than I could believe came from chance.

In the lane, just as I was about to turn into the side door of the

_Anchor_, I met the foreign-looking captain, who must have crossed the

river before me, as I had last seen him on the other side. He knew

me, I could tell well enough, and I knew him; but I was not going to

let him see where I was going, so I passed the door of the _Anchor_,

limping on till he was clear; then I hurried in, went upstairs at once,

and was out in the old ruined arbours I have spoken of in a minute.

These overhung the river at high-water (it was nearly high-tide now),

and the landing-place of the ferry was close to them. The ferryman and

the captain were talking, as I expected they would be, while the boat

was waiting for passengers; and by standing in the corner box, I could

have heard every word they said, if they had spoken out, as honest

people should speak. But they were that artful and suspicious, although

they could not have known there was anybody listening, that they talked

almost in whispers, and I only caught the last bit from the ferryman.

'No,' he says; 'he's not the party; but I'll go up to the _Smack_

to-night and make sure of the man.'

Ah! as I thought; they were both in it somehow. But what a most

extraordinary fuss and Gunpowder Plot sort of business there was about

stealing a few bits of metal. I actually should have felt ashamed of

the East-enders, who are really some of the sharpest folks I ever came

across, if I had not felt there was a something behind, and that, by a

lucky accident, I seemed upon the point of finding it out.

The night--my first night in the east too--was not to pass without

an adventure, and I had not seen the last of my new acquaintance the

captain. I got very tired of the company in the _Anchor_--not that I

mind who I mix with, and if there had been any of the factory hands

about the place, I would have sat with them until the house closed; but

they only came there at meal-times it seemed, or on their road home. So

I walked about the neighbourhood a bit; not because it was pleasant,

for it was a wet night; and what with the rain and the mud and the

drunken sailors and the fried-fish shops and the quarrelling there was

going on, it was anything but agreeable. The fact is I like to know

every court and alley in my district, and there _were_ some pretty

courts and alleys here. However, nobody thought me worth robbing, and

besides, I am always civil, so I never get interfered with. It's a

capital rule; the best I know; and costs nothing.

When I was coming back, and had got pretty nearly to the _Anchor and

Five Mermaids_ again (it is very absurd to give such long signs to

public-houses), I saw a very pretty girl whom I had noticed before,

standing at a corner out of the rain; but it was not raining very much

now. She wasn't--well, I won't say what she was not, or what she was.

She was very pretty, I say, and was doing no harm there; but two or

three fellows coming by at the moment, one of them took hold of her

roughly, and finished by almost pushing her down. She got away from

him, and drew a door or two off; but his companions laughing at him

for being bested by a woman, he followed her, and on her pushing him

from her, gave her a back-handed smack in the face. There were several

men loitering about, smoking and so forth, and I heard one or two say

it was a shame; but none of them interfered; and I, being a little way

off, and not wanting to get into a row, might have passed this over;

but she called him a brute and a coward, and he went at her to strike

her again. She ran across the road to where I stood, to avoid him, and

he followed her. Then I saw it was my acquaintance the captain.

He swore more horribly than ever I heard any one swear, and springing

forward, would certainly have hit her down; but I jumped between

them and knocked up his arm. 'Brayvo!' said some women, who had been

attracted by the girl's scream; and 'Brayvo!' said the men who hadn't

interfered. At once the captain turned on me, and let fly desperately

at my head; but I was not to be had in that way, and I stopped him and

returned a hit that I know must have loosened a couple of teeth; and

then he swore again, and began to pull off his coat. So did I.

'Don't fight wid him, my darlin',' said an old Irishwoman, who was

selling herrings, laying her hand on my arm. 'You 're an honest English

boy, and these fellows will have a knife in ye if they can't bate ye

fair.'

'No, Biddy, they shan't,' said one of the men coming forward, followed

by half-a-dozen more. 'If there's to be a fight, it shall be a fair

one; and mates, we'll put any fellow into six feet of mud who only

shews a knife.'

His mates said so too, and they were a rough and likely lot for it,

and the river was within a score or so of yards. So with a scowl at

them (for I do believe now he meant murder; I didn't think of it then,

although I was a policeman), he rolled up his sleeves and came at me.

He was a strong fellow, not so tall perhaps, but certainly heavier than

I was, and I daresay, from his manner, fancied he could fight. But

fight _me_! Why, a gent once offered through Alec Keene (he had seen

me spar in private at Alec's), to make it worth my while to leave the

police, and he would back me against any ten-stone-four man I fancied,

for a hundred; and I was half inclined to take it too, only something

important turned up just then. Well, in two rounds I settled the

captain. He tried to catch hold of me and throw me; but I knocked him

clean off his legs each round; and then his friends took him away.

'There's one comfort at any rate in having had the row,' I thought:

'he'll never suppose I'm a detective after this.'

I wished, however, it had never come off, there was such a fuss. Why,

if I could have drunk shillings and sixpences, I might have had them, I

do believe. In a place like that you get a crowd directly; and although

the affair did not last three minutes, there was a hundred men and as

many women too, anxious to treat me; and I was naturally obliged to

drink with one or two; not at the _Anchor_ though.

The affair made such a stir, that I read in one of the local papers the

next week how Jem Mace had been down in the neighbourhood of the Docks,

incog.; and that for once the brute strength of a boxer had been used

in a good cause, and all that sort of nonsense. I know I have always

found the best class of boxers very good fellows.

Of course I was vexed at this shindy having taken place so early, as

the quieter I kept myself the better; and I would have given five

pounds to have been out of it. My wishing this only shews you never

know what is coming; and something came out of this street fight that I

never expected.

SEA-LIONS.

The domestication of a pair of 'sea-lions' at the Brighton Aquarium,

and the subsequent addition, some few months ago, of a 'little

stranger' to this interesting family circle, afford an opportunity

for a brief description of some of the more prominent points in

the structure and habits of these little-known animals. The name

'sea-lion,' to begin with, is by no means so inappropriate or far

fetched as popular designations are usually found to be, when submitted

to scientific criticism. For the 'sea-lion' is included by zoologists

along with the seals and walruses in the great Carnivorous order of

quadrupeds, to which, it need hardly be remarked, the lions, tigers,

bears, dogs, and other flesh-eaters belong. The sea-lion is in fact a

large seal, and seals and walruses are simply marine bears; and if we

can imagine the body of a familiar bear to be somewhat elongated, and

that the limbs were converted into swimming paddles, we should obtain

a rough but essentially correct idea of the zoological position of the

seals and their neighbours.

But whilst the seals and sea-lions are united with the walruses to form

a special group of carnivorous quadrupeds, adapted to lead a life in

the sea, there exist some very prominent points of difference between

the common seals and the less familiar sea-lions. The sea-lions and

their nearest allies are thus sometimes named 'Eared' seals, from the

possession of an outer ear; the latter appendage being absent in the

common or True seals. And whilst the common seals waddle in a most

ungainly fashion on land, the sea-lions are able to 'walk,' if not

elegantly, at least with a better show of comfort than their more

familiar neighbours. A glance at the structure of the sea-lion's feet,

or better still, a comparison of its members with those of the seal,

shews the reason of its greater skill and ability in progression on

the land. The fore-limbs of the seal are, so to speak buried in the

skin, below the elbow; only a small part of the fore-arm and hand being

thus free from the body. The hind-limbs of the seals, again, exist

in a permanently extended condition, and are disposed backwards in a

line with the tail and body. The hind-limbs, moreover, are frequently

united with the tail by means of a connecting fold of skin, and the

whole hinder extremity of the body in a seal may thus be regarded as

forming a large tail-fin. In swimming, the fore-limbs of the seal are

applied closely to the sides of the body, and serve as rudders; whilst

the hinder portion of the body, hinder limbs, and tail, constitute the

swimming-organs--a work for which by their great flexibility they are

perfectly adapted.

In the sea-lions on the other hand the fore-limbs are free from the

skin and body to a much greater extent than in the seals. The 'hand'

itself in the sea-lion is exceedingly flexible, although completely

enclosed in a horny or leathery skin. The thumbs of this hand further

exist in a well developed state; all five fingers being of nearly the

same length in the seal. As regards the hind-feet of the sea-lion,

these members, like the fore-limbs, are freely separated from the

body, at least as far as the ankle and foot are concerned, and the

foot is turned outwards, forcibly reminding one of the conformation

of that organ in the bear. But we may only note by way of conclusion

to these zoological characters that the teeth of the sea-lion are

decidedly of a carnivorous type. Any one regarding the skull of a

sea-lion could readily form the idea that the animal which possessed

it was a flesh-eater. These animals usually possess thirty-six teeth;

the 'eye' teeth being of very large size, and so placed in the jaws

that any substance entering the mouth is firmly held by these teeth

and the adjoining front teeth. The 'grinders' of the sea-lion are

small, and do not appear to be of any very great use to the animal.

These creatures swallow their food--consisting of fishes, molluscs, and

sea-birds--whole, and when a large fish is divided in two, the portion

retained in the mouth is swallowed; the portion which tumbles into the

water being afterwards seized and duly swallowed in its turn.

That the sea-lions are by no means destitute of the craft and cunning

of their land-neighbours, is proved by the fact that they capture such

birds as the penguins by lying motionless in the water, allowing merely

the tip of the nose to appear at the surface. The unwary bird, swooping

down upon the floating object, presumed to consist of something

eatable, is then seized and devoured by the concealed enemy.

Sea-lions may be regarded as the unknown, or at anyrate unrecognised

benefactors of the fair sex, inasmuch as, from the rich _under-fur_

which they possess, the favourite material known as 'seal-skin' is

obtained. This latter name is entirely misleading in its nature; the

much prized material being the produce of the sea-lion and not of a

true seal. The possession of this valuable under-fur has contributed

very largely to the causes of the indiscriminate attack which has for

years past been made upon the sea-lions. The spirit of commercial

enterprise has resulted in a war of extermination against these animals

in certain regions, from the effects of which it is doubtful if the

species can ultimately recover.

The sea-lions differ materially from the seals in their geographical

distribution. The latter animals, as every casual reader of a natural

history text-book knows, inhabit temperate and northern seas. The

sea-lions, on the other hand, are found to be absent from all parts of

the Atlantic Ocean save its most southern portions. They are common

on the South American coasts, and are found inhabiting island-groups

which may be regarded as belonging to the same zoological province

as the latter continent. The mouth of the River Plate is stated as

the most northern boundary of these animals on the eastern side of

South America, whilst on the western or Pacific side of the New World

they are found on the Californian coasts, and are even met with on

the coasts of the Aleutian Isles and of Japan. The Pribylov Islands,

included in the Alaska group, are regarded as forming the most

northerly point of the sea-lions' distribution; and these islands--now

in the possession of the United States--together with the Falkland

Islands and the Cape of Good Hope, still form the three chief sources

from which the seal-fur or seal-skin of commerce is obtained. It is

also well ascertained that sea-lions occur at Kerguelen's Land, on the

New Zealand coasts, on the Tasmanian shores, and the east and south

coasts of Australia.

The average length of a large male sea-lion ranges from six to seven

or eight feet, his weight averaging six hundred pounds. The females

are of much smaller size than the males, and measure from four and a

half to five feet in length; their weight being from one hundred to

one hundred and fifty pounds. These animals, as might be expected,

grow slowly, and attain their full dimensions the males in six, and

the females in four years. The habits of these animals are not only of

curious and interesting nature, but evince a decidedly high order of

intelligence. The haunts of the sea-lions are, in whalers' _parlance_,

named 'rookeries;' and in the disposition of what may be termed

their domestic arrangements, as well as in the regulation of their

family and personal matters, these creatures appear to be guided by

instincts which, like the social order of the ants and bees, are duly

perpetuated, and have become of hereditary character. The sea-lions

are migratory in habits, and disappear from the majority of the haunts

and breeding-places in winter. The males are few in number as compared

with the females or 'cows,' as they are termed; and each male receives

under his protection a larger or smaller number of females; the oldest

males possessing the largest number of dependants. In the early spring,

some old males appear to return first to the haunts and do duty as

reconnoitring parties; the advance-guard swimming about for several

days, then landing and cautiously investigating the state of the land;

their shore-visits being spent in a state of perpetual sniffing, and in

the careful examination of their old haunt. About a month or six weeks

after the arrival of the advance-guard, and after the inspection of the

land has been duly carried out, sure signs of the coming race begin

to appear in the form of hundreds of males, who select advantageous

positions on the beach, and await the arrival of their partners. Nor

is the period of waiting an uneventful one. The best situations on

the beach are fought for with eagerness, not to say ferocity. The

descriptions given of the combats of the males indicate that they are

of the most sanguinary description; frequent mutilations being the

results of this fight for a place on the reception-ground.

On the arrival of the females, the younger males appear to do duty as

ushers, in marshalling the 'cows' to their places on the rocks and

cliffs above the beach; and the work of the selection of mates by the

males proceeds apace, until each happy family, consisting of a male

with a dozen or fifteen cows, has been duly constituted. The progress

of selection and sea-lion courtship is frequently, we regret to say,

attended with disastrous consequences to the lady-members of the

community. When a male, envious of the choice of his neighbour, sees

an opportunity, he does not hesitate to avail himself of the chance,

and not only to covet but literally to steal his neighbour's mate. The

desired 'cow' is unceremoniously lifted in the mouth of the captor, and

transferred with all possible expedition to his own family group. Great

is the sorrow of the bereaved male; but woe to both intruder and female

should the thief be discovered in the act! A fierce and sanguinary

fight ensues, and the hapless, passive, and altogether innocent cause

of the combat, may get dreadfully injured while the combat lasts.

The young sea-lions usually appear to be born almost immediately

after the parents have landed and been allocated to their respective

establishments. One young is produced at a birth; the infant sea-lion

being of black colour and attaining the length of a foot. When they

are four weeks old, they enter the water, and speedily become expert

in swimming and diving; but it is alleged, and on good authority, that

occasionally the females encounter refractory offspring, and have to

exercise great patience in coaxing unwilling youngsters to enter the

sea. The families have settled down to their wonted existence by the

beginning of August; and we are informed that during the whole of the

period which intervenes between the arrival of the females and the

period last mentioned, the males have not only been most assiduous in

their attendance upon their families, but that they have also been

existing independently of any nutriment. The males exemplify a case of

living upon self, and appear to subsist by the reabsorption of their

fatty matters; in the same fashion as the bears, which retire fat and

well nourished to their winter-quarters, and appear in the succeeding

spring in a lean and emaciated condition.

Regarding the sea-lions and their young at present in captivity in the

Brighton Aquarium, it is interesting to note the incidents connected

with the first 'bath' of baby _Otaria_. This prodigy in the way of an

aquarium specimen, tumbled accidentally into the water of his tank, and

apparently caused his mamma much anxiety. It is stated that he plunged

voluntarily into the water on a subsequent occasion, and appeared to

be perfectly at home in his native element; swimming and diving with

all the dexterity of an accomplished professor of the art of natation.

Being startled by some sound, the young otaria dived beneath the

surface of the water, the mother seizing her progeny by the neck, and

swimming ashore with it in her mouth. On the occasion of the writer's

visit to the Brighton Aquarium, the mother and young were disporting

themselves in the water; the male sitting up in the tank, and giving

vent to repeated sounds, resembling exactly the hoarse bark of a dog.

We may heartily re-echo the wish, that the happiness and amenity of

this interesting family may be disturbed by no untoward accident, if

for no other reason that they exist among us as the representatives of

a most interesting and now comparatively scarce group of quadrupeds.

It has often been disputed by naturalists whether or not the sea-lions

possess a mane. There can be no doubt that the old males of one

species at anyrate, the _Otaria jubata_ or Cook's sea-lion, the most

common form on the South American coasts, possess a mane on the neck

and shoulders. Nine or ten different species of sea-lions are known

to zoologists, these species being distinguished from each other by

very distinct variations in the form and structure of the skull, in

the fur, &c. It must, however, be borne in mind, that the recognition

of the exact species to which a sea-lion belongs is frequently a very

difficult matter, owing to the differences perceptible in the fur of

the two sexes and in the fur of either sex, at different ages.

Chambers's Journal of Popular Literature, Science, and Art, No. 728, December 8, 1877 · 第 2 / 4 段