形容房子地段好的词语:英语高手帮忙翻译（10）

Listen closely, and you might hear the surf, but you will not hear the barking of dogs; they are prohibited on the island to protect the seals. So are rats. The tribe and city work with the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service to maintain a network of traps, poison and patrols. The words “Keep St. Paul Rat Free” appear on signs in strategic locations across the island.
Dustin Jones guides the pickup truck over gravel roads past the fisheries service barracks, past the slopes of extinct volcanoes, past a field where heavy equipment plows under soil contaminated by decades-old fuel spills and leaks, past the airport. He drives eight miles or so toward the northeast end of the island, unlocking a gate and moving by an old cottage and a beautiful open-air chapel that marks one of the island’s earliest village sites. It’s time for another daily patrol.
Near an old lava flow that juts out into the Bering Sea, Jones scans the beach line for cavorting seals. A week earlier, he spied a male killer whale a couple of hundred yards out, holding offshore with its pod. The whale suddenly rushed the beach and dove, seals exploding to each side. It later surfaced with the other whales, then faked into the fog. Jones wrote it all down. “I’m looking for just anything,” he says. Now Jones spots an immense light brown animal lounging in the surf, appearing like some mythic creature carved of stone. Then it raises its enormous, squashed face. “That’s a big old sea lion,” he exclaims, logging it. Over the course of several hours, Jones will visit four other rookeries on the island’s gravel roads, noting, in turn, three lions hauled out on a rock, a pup tangled in green line, an off-white albino seal thought to be blind amid a sea of dark forms.
All that’s missing are the masses of seals once known by his grandfather and all the elders before. “Something’s happening,” Jones says. “I’d like to know what the heck it is.”