A DAY'S HUNTING AMONG THE ESKIMOS. 



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his shoulder, then with a strong movement, as if Imrled from a 

 steel spring, it rushes whistling from the throwing stick, whirl- 

 ing the line behind it. The seal gives a violent plunge, but at 

 the moment it arches its back to dive, the harpoon sinks into its 



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side and buries itself up to the shaft. A few convulsive strokes 

 of its tail churn the water into foam, and away it goes, dragg'ing 

 the harpoon line behind it toward the depths. In the meantime 

 Boas has seized the throwing stick between his teeth and, quicker 



