But on the following evening, as we sat down to dinner, I heard from some other visitors at the Wellington Inn, to whom, under pledge of secrecy, I had confided our discovery, that they had been to Pentargon Cove to visit our young friend, and found that he had been removed (probably by his mother) back to the exact spot where we had found him. They also stated that his presence there had become known in the village, and that the conviction had been expressed that "the boys" would certainly go and stone him to death! I had already reproached myself for going elsewhere that day instead of to Pentargon Cove to look after my young seal, and now I hastily left my dinner, procured in the village two men and a potato sack, and hurried to Pentargon Cove. As we approached the edge of the cliff the sun was setting, and the cove was very still and suffused with a red glow. Then a weird sound rent the air, like that made by one in the agonies of sea-sickness. It was the little seal calling for his mother! It is the habit of the females of this species to leave the shore during the day when they go in search of the fish on which they feed, and to return to their young in the evening, in order to suckle them. I could see, from above, my baby friend--a little white figure all alone in the deepening gloom of the great cliffs--raising his head and, by his cries, helplessly inviting his enemies to come and destroy him. In a few minutes we were down by his side, had placed him in the potato sack, and brought him to the upper air. On the way to the inn I purchased a large-sized baby's bottle with a fine indiarubber teat. We placed the little seal on straw in a large open packing-case in the stables, whilst the kitchen-maid warmed some milk and filled the feeding-bottle. Then I brought it to him, looking down on his broad, white-furred head, with its wonderful eyes, set so as to throw their appealing gaze upwards. I touched his nose with the milky indiarubber teat. With unerring precision his lips closed on it, his nostrils opened and shut in quick succession, and he had emptied the bottle. I gave him a quart of milk before leaving him and getting my own belated meal. He slept comfortably, but at four in the morning his cries rent the air, and threatened to wake every one in the hotel. I had to get up, descend to the kitchen, warm some more milk for him, and satisfy his hunger. He became fond of the bottle, and also of the friend who held it for him. I arranged to take him to the Zoological Gardens when, after three days, I left Boscastle. He travelled to London in the guard's van in a specially constructed cage, and was as beautiful and happy as ever when I handed him over to the superintendent at Regent's Park.