Crouching among hummocks, he watched his prey, and studied the intervening ice, and its possible sheltering hummocks.
Carefully he stalked, now standing still as a statue, now darting forward, and at last proceeding on all fours until finally he was quite certain that those farthest from the water could not escape him.

Then springing to his feet he ran at them.
Bobby had until now kept his nerves under control, but with the attack a wild desperation took possession of him, and looking neither to one side nor the other he slaughtered the seals, one after another, as he overtook them, until, the first frenzy of success past, he realized that he had already killed more than he could probably use.

Then he stopped, trembling with excitement, and looked about him.

Five victims of the two species known to him as harp and jar seals had fallen under his knife.
Now he could eat.

This thought brought relaxation from the great physical strain and mental anxiety that had spurred him to activity and keyed his nerves to a high pitch since leaving his snow cavern early in the morning, and with the relaxation he was overcome by emotion.