<h2>CHAPTER IX.</h2>
<div class='chaptertitle'>ARCTIC HUNTING.</div>
<div class='cap'>EARLY in October the Esquimo disappeared
from the range of travel from the brig.
Hans and Hickey were sent to the hunting grounds,
and they returned with the unwelcome news, no
walrus, no Esquimo. Where could they have
gone? Were they hovering on the track of the escaping
party under Dr. Hayes? and where were
these? Would the natives return from a trip south,
and bring any news of the battle they were fighting
with the ice and cold?</div>
<p>While such queries may have been indulged by
the brig party, they had serious thoughts concerning
their own condition. Their fresh provisions
were nearly exhausted. Without walrus or bear
meat, their old enemy, scurvy, would come down
upon them like an armed man. There was now
plainly another occasion for one of those accidental
occurrences, through which the eye of a
devout Christian sees God's kind hand. In the
midst of these painful thoughts the shout by Hans
was heard ringing through the brig: "Nannook!
nannook!"</p>
<p>"A bear! a bear!" chimed in Morton.</p>
<p>The men seized their guns and ran on deck.
The dogs were already in battle array with the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</SPAN></span>
bear, which was attended by a five-months-old
cub. Not a gun was in readiness on the instant,
and while they were being loaded the canines
were having rough sport with bruin. Tudla, a
champion fighter, had been seized twice, by the
nape of his neck, and made to travel several yards
without touching the ground. Jenny, a favorite
in the sledge, had made a grand somerset by a
slight jerk of the head of the bear, and had
alighted senseless. Old Whitey, brave but not
bear-wise, had rushed headlong into the combat,
and was yelping his utter dissatisfaction with the
result while stretched helpless upon the snow.
Nannook considered the field of battle already
won, and proceeded, as victors have always done,
to a very cool investigation of the spoils. She
first turned over a beef barrel, and began to nose
out the choice bits for herself and child. But
there was a party interested in this operation whom
she had not consulted. Their first protest was in
the form of a pistol ball in the side of her cub.
This, to say the least, was rather a harsh beginning.
The next hint was a rifle ball in the side of the
mother, which she resented by taking her child
between her hind legs and retreating behind the
beef-house. Here, with her strong forearms, she
pulled down three solid rows of beef barrels which
made one wall of the house. She then mounted
the rubbish, seized a half barrel of herring with
her teeth, and with it beat a retreat. Turning her
back on the enemy was not safe, for she immediately
received, at half pistol range, six buck shots.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</SPAN></span>
She fell, but was instantly on her feet again, trotting
off with her cub under her nose. She would
have escaped after all but for two of the dogs.
These belonged to the immediate region, and had
been trained for the bear hunt. They embarrassed
her speed but did not attack her. One
would run along ahead of her, so near as to provoke
the bear to attempt to catch him, and then
he would give her a useless chase to the right or
left, the other one, at the right moment, making a
diversion by a nip in her rear. So coolly and systematically
was this done that poor Nannook was
hindered and exhausted without being able to
hurt her tormentors in the least.</p>
<p>This game of the dogs brought again Dr. Kane
and Hans on the field of conflict. They found
the bear still holding out in the running fight, and
making good speed away from the brig. Two rifle
balls brought her to a stand-still. She faced
about, took her little one between her fore legs,
and growled defiance. It took six more balls to
lay her lifeless on the blood-stained snow!</p>
<p>This method of conquering the foe was no doubt,
from the bear point of view, mean and cowardly;
instead of the hand-to-paw fight, recognized as the
Arctic lawful way of fighting, it was sending fire-death
at a safe distance for the attacking party.
With her own chosen weapons—two powerful arms,
and a set of almost resistless teeth—the bear was
the stronger party. But then it was the old game
of brains against brute force, with the almost sure
result. As to the cruelty, the bear had no reason<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</SPAN></span>
to complain. She came to the brig seeking, if
haply she might find, a man, or men, to appease
her craving hunger and feed her child. The men
sought and obtained her life that they might stay
the progress of their bitter enemy, the scurvy, and
save their own lives!</p>
<p>When the mother fell, her child sprung upon
her body and made a fierce defense. After much
trouble, and, we should think, some danger from
her paws and teeth, both of which she used as if
trained for the fight, she was, caught with a line
looped into a running knot between her jaws and
the back of her head, somewhat as farmers catch
hogs for the slaughter. She was marched off to
the brig and chained outside, causing a great uproar
among the dogs.</p>
<p>The mother-bear's carcass weighed when cleaned
three hundred pounds; before dressing, the body
weighed six hundred and fifty. The <i>little</i> one
weighed on her feet one hundred and fourteen
pounds. They both proved most savory meat,
and were eaten with gratitude, as the special gifts
of the great Giver.</p>
<p>This bear capture was soon followed by one no
less exciting and truly Arctic in its character. It
was the hunt and capture of a walrus, the lion of
the sea, as the bear is the tiger of the ice. The
story is as follows:—-</p>
<p>About the middle of October Morton and Hans
were sent again to try to find the Esquimo.
They reached on the fourth day a little village beyond
Anoatok, seventy miles from the brig. Here<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</SPAN></span>
they found four huts, two occupied and two forsaken.
In one was Myouk, his parents and his
brother and sister; in the other was Awahtok,
Ootuniah, their wives, and three young children.
The strangers were made to feel at home. Their
moccasins were dried, their feet rubbed, two lamps
set ablaze to cook them a supper, and a walrus skin
spread on the raised floor for them to stretch and
rest their weary limbs. The lamps and the addition
to the huts' company sent the thermometer
up to ninety degrees above zero, while outside it
was thirty below. The natives endured this degree
of heat finely, as the men and children wore
only the apparel nature gave them, and the women
made only a slight, but becoming, addition to it.
The strangers after devouring six small sea-birds
a piece enjoyed a night of profuse perspiration
and sound sleep.</p>
<p>In the morning Morton perceived that Myouk
and his father were preparing for a walrus hunt,
and he cordially invited himself and Hans to go
with them. The two strangers accepted the invitation
thus given, and the party of four were
soon off.</p>
<p>A large size walrus is eighteen feet long, with a
tusk thirty inches. His whole development is
elephantine, and his look grim and ferocious.</p>
<p>The Esquimo of this party carried three sledges;
one they hid under the snow and ice on the way,
and the other two were carried to the hunting
ground at the open water, about ten miles from
the huts. They had nine dogs to these two<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</SPAN></span>
sledges, and by turns one man rode while the other
walked.</p>
<p>As they neared the new ice, and saw by the
murky fog that the open water was near, the Esquimo
removed their hoods and listened. After a
while Myouk's countenance showed that the wished-for
sound had entered his ear, though Morton, as
attentively listening, could hear nothing. Soon
they were startled by the bellowing of a walrus
bull; the noise, round and full, was something between
the mooing of a cow and the deep baying
of a mastiff, varied by an oft-repeated quick bark.
The performer was evidently pleased with his own
music, for it continued without cessation while
our hunters crept forward stealthily in single file.
When within half a mile of some discolored
spots showing very thin ice surrounded by that
which was thicker, they scattered, and each man
crawled toward a separate pool, Morton on his
hands and knees following Myouk. Soon the
walruses were in sight. They were five in number,
at times rising altogether out of the deep, breaking
the ice and giving an explosive puff which
might have been heard, through the thin, clear atmosphere,
a mile away. Two grim-looking males
were noticeable as the leaders of the group.</p>
<div class="figleft"><SPAN name="Page_81"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/i_081.png" width-obs="351" height-obs="500" alt="" /> <span class="caption">Walruses—A Family Party.</span></div>
<p>Now came the fight between Myouk, the crafty,
expert hunter, and a strong, maddened, persistent
walrus. Morton was the interested looker-on, following
the hunter like a shadow, ready, if it had
been wanted, to put in his contribution to the
fight in the form of a rifle-ball. When the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</SPAN></span>
walrus's head is above water, and peering curiously
around, the hunter is flat and still. As the head
begins to disappear in the deep he is up and stirring,
and ready to dart toward the game. From
his hiding-place behind a projecting ice knoll the
hunter seems not only to know when his victim
will return, but where he will rise. In this way,
hiding and darting forward, Myouk, with Morton
at his heels, approaches the pool near the edge
of which the walruses are at play. Now the stolid
face of Myouk glows with animation; he lies still,
biding his time, a coil of walrus hide many yards
in length lying at his side. He quickly slips one
end of the line into an iron barb, holding the other,
the looped end, in his hand, and fixes the barb to
a locket on the end of a shaft made of a unicorn's
horn. Now the water is in motion, and only
twelve feet from him the walrus rises, puffing with
pent up respiration, and looks grimly and complacently
around. What need <i>he</i> fear, the mighty
monarch of the Arctic sea! Myouk coolly, slowly
rises, throws back his right arm, while his left arm
lies close to his side. The walrus looks round
again and shakes his dripping head. Up goes the
hunter's left arm. His victim rises breast-high to
give one curious look before he plunges, and the
swift, barbed shaft is buried in his vitals! In an
instant the walrus is down, down in the deep, while
Myouk is making his best speed from the battlefield,
holding firmly the looped end of his harpoon-line,
at the same time paying out the coil as
he runs. He has snatched up and carries in one<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</SPAN></span>
hand a small stick of bone rudely pointed with
iron; he stops, drives it into the ice and fastens
his line to it, pressing it to the ice with his
foot.</p>
<p>Now commence the frantic struggles of the
wounded walrus. Myouk keeps his station, now
letting out his line, and then drawing it in. His
victim, rising out of the water, endeavors to throw
himself upon the ice, as if to rush at his tormenter.
The ice breaks under his great weight, and he
roars fearfully with rage. For a moment all is
quiet. The hunter knows what it means, and he
is on the alert. Crash goes the ice, and up come
two walrusses only a few yards from where he
stands; they aimed at the very spot but will do
better next time. But when the game comes up
where he last saw the hunter he has pulled up his
stake and run off, line in hand, and fixed it as
before, but in a new direction. This play goes
on until the wounded beast becomes exhausted,
and is approached and pierced with the lance by
Myouk.</p>
<p>Four hours this fight went on, the walrus receiving
seventy lance thrusts, dangling all the
while at the end of the line with the cruel harpoon
fixed in his body. When dying at last,
hooked by his tusk to the margin of the ice, his
female, which had faithfully followed all his bloody
fortune, still swam at his side; she retired only
when her spouse was dead, and she herself was
pricked by the lance.</p>
<p>Morton says the last three hours wore the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</SPAN></span>
aspect of a doubtful battle. He witnessed it with
breathless interest.</p>
<p>The game was, by a sort of "double purchase,"
a clever contrivance of the Esquimo, drawn upon
the ice and cut up at leisure. Its weight was estimated
at seven hundred pounds.</p>
<p>The intestines and the larger part of the carcass,
were buried in the crevices of an iceberg—a
splendid ice-house! Two sledges were loaded
with the remainder, and the hunters started toward
home. As they came near the village the women
came out to meet them; the shout of welcome
brought all hands with their knives. Each one
having his portion assigned, according to a well
understood Esquimo rule, the evening was given
up to eating. In groups of two or three
around a forty pound joint, squatting crook-legged,
knife in hand, they cut, ate, and slept, and cut and
ate again. Hans, in his description of the feast
to Dr. Kane, says: "Why, Cappen Ken, sir, even
the children ate all night. You know the little
two-year-old that Aroin carried in her hood—the
one that bit you when you tickled it?"</p>
<p>"Yes."</p>
<p>"Well, Cappen Ken, sir, that baby cut for herself,
sir, with a knife made out of an iron hoop,
and so heavy it could hardly lift it, cut and ate,
sir, and ate and cut, as long as I looked at it."</p>
<p>Morton and Hans returned to the brig with two
hundred pounds of walrus meat and two foxes, to
make glad the hearts of their comrades.</p>
<p>Besides these Arctic monsters of the sea, and<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</SPAN></span>
shaggy prowlers of the land and ice, there was
another sort of game, requiring a different kind
of hunting, found nearer home.</p>
<p>We have related the experiment, a year before
this, of the explorers with the rats. They had
failed to smoke them out by a villainous compound,
and, as the experience came near burning
up the vessel, it was not repeated. They bred
like locusts in spite of the darkness, cold, and
short rations, and went every-where—under the
stove, into the steward's drawers, into the cushions,
about the beds, among the furs, woolens, and
specimens of natural history. They took up their
abode among the bedding of the men in the forecastle,
and in such other places as seemed to them
cosy and comfortable. When their rights as tenants
were disputed they fought for them with
boldness and skill.</p>
<p>At one time a mother rat had chosen a bear-skin
mitten as a homestead for herself and family
of little ones. Dr. Kane thrust his hand into it
not knowing that it was occupied, and received a
sharp bite. Of course his hand left the premises
in rather quick time, and before he could suck the
blood from his finger the family had disappeared,
taking their home with them.</p>
<p>Rhina, a brave bear-dog, which had come out
of encounters with his shaggy majesty with special
honors, was sent down into the citadel of the rats.
She lay down with composure and slept for a
while. But the vermin gnawed the horny skin
of her paws, nipped her on this side, and bit her<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</SPAN></span>
on that, and dodged into their hiding-places.
They were so many, and so nimble, that poor
Rhina yelled in vexation and pain. She was taken
on deck to her kennel, a cowed and vanquished
dog.</p>
<p>Hans, true to his hunter's propensity, amused
himself during the dreary hours of his turn on the
night watch, by shooting them with his bow and
arrow. Dr. Kane had these carefully dressed and
made into a soup, of which he educated himself
to eat, to the advantage of his health. No other
one of the vessel's company cared to share his
pottage.</p>
<p>Hans had one competitor in this "small deer"
hunting, as the sailors called it. Dr. Kane had
caught a young fox alive, and domesticated it in
the cabin. These "deer" were not quick enough
to escape his nimble feet and sharp teeth. But
unfortunately he would kill only when and what
he wanted to eat.</p>
<p>December came in gloomily. Nearly every man
was down with the scurvy. The necessary work
to be done dragged heavily. The courage of the
little company was severely taxed but not broken.
But where were the escaping party under Dr.
Hayes? Were they yet dragging painfully over
their perilous way? were they safe at Upernavik?
or had they perished?</p>
<p>While such queries might have occupied the
thoughts of the dwellers in the "Advance," on
the seventh of the month Petersen and Bonsall
of that party returned; five days later Dr. Hayes<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</SPAN></span>
arrived, with the remainder of his company.
Their adventures had been marvelous, and their
escape wonderful. It will be a pleasant fancy for
us to consider ourselves as sitting down in the
cabin of the "Advance," and listening to their
story from the lips of one of their party.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</SPAN></span></p>
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