Identifier: outing51newy (find matches)
Title: Outing
Year: 1885 (1880s)
Authors:
Subjects: Leisure Sports Travel
Publisher: (New York : Outing Pub. Co.)
Contributing Library: Tisch Library
Digitizing Sponsor: Boston Library Consortium Member Libraries

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core of anolder island torn away by the waves. Ithas now been forced to continue its land-creating role. And how many forebearsthat rock had, or rather, how many islandswill succeed this one when it is destroyed,only the volcano-chaser of coming aeonsmay tell. Bogoslov, only a hundred yearsand so old, is a shell of its former self. Butenough of science. Elia teetered the dory in the surf, andits no joke choosing between breakers andmaking good on the dash. We pulled outto the yacht, and beans. My face kept onburning as if still over the throbbing vents;and weary and trembling with the reflexesof gratification, I listened to the Captain,growling still that we were too near shore,or too far out, or too something in case thewind shifted. Four hours I had been withand of the burning thing. It seemedtwenty minutes. That afternoon Elia and I started for thesea-lion rookery on the long Bogoslov spit.We drew to windward of the steam, con- 540 On the Chase for Volcanoes 54i BOCOSLOV lua. o or
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founded awhile in its venomous pall;crossed the open channel and landed underthe sheer southwest cliffs of Bogoslov.Elia wanted flippers from a big lion to maketerpisar soles (terpisars correspond to ourrubber boots, only Aleuts all but sleep inthem), and guts for a kamaleeka (water-proof jacket). I wanted baby lion, to eat.The Captain said that being unweaned, andso not yet feeding on devil-fish and such,the young would not be too tough and fishy—unless at second hand, as it were. I never saw creatures more stupid thansea-lions, so almost loathsome, so cravingsensuous comfort, so unconscious and reck- less of danger.They suggestedsybarites with par-asitic instincts—huge oafs. Pityfor them becamealmost scorn thatbrutes so powerfuland so unworthyshould be created.They dozed intwo herds, likeyellow slug-abedssleeping off a de-b auc h. Eliacrouched underthe shingle, stalk-ing the bunch onthe spit, I towardthose in plain sightat the north endof the channel.The big, tawny,dirty beasts

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