There was once a man who lived not far from John O'Groat's house, on the very north of Scotland. He made his living by catching fish of all sizes and types, but he had a particular liking for killing those wonderful beasts, half dog, half fish, called seals. No doubt he liked killing the seals so much because he got a fancy price for their skins. The truth is, that most of these animals were neither dogs nor cods, but downright fairies as this story shall tell. Now one day, the fisherman stabbed a seal with his hunting knife, but he failed to kill it outright, for the seal let out a loud cry of pain and slipped off the rocks and into the sea, taking the knife with it. Later that night, after the fisherman had returned home to his cottage, a stranger came to visit him. The man said that he had been sent by his master who would want to buy a large number of seal furs. The stranger and the fishman mounted horse, and rode off at great speed, their faces cutting through the sharp, salty air. Finally they reached a great cliff that overhung the sea, and the stranger told the fisherman that they had arrived.