A WALRUS HUNT 87 



a quick flop he dived. The men did their usual 

 stunts to scare him off. Up he came fifteen yards 

 away, gave his battle-cry, 'Ook! Ook! Ook!' to warn 

 us to look out for trouble, and came tearing along 

 the surface of Whale Sound like a torpedo boat de- 

 stroyer, or an unmuffled automobile with a bicycle 

 policeman on its trail. 



"I got my rapid-fire gun into the game and sank 

 him; then we made for the nearest cake of ice — and 

 reached it none too soon." 



To take up the story where Borup leaves it, when 

 the first wounded walrus had been despatched with a 

 bullet, and the floats were all taken in, an oar was 

 erected in the boat for a signal, and the Roosevelt 

 steamed up. The floats and the lines were taken over 

 the rail of the ship, the walrus raised to the surface 

 of the water, a hook inserted, and the winch on deck 

 hoisted the monster on board, to be later skinned 

 and cut up by the expert knives of the Eskimos. 

 While this work was going on, the deck of the ship 

 looked like a slaughterhouse, with the ravenous dogs — 

 at this stage of the journey we had already about one 

 hundred and fifty — waiting, ears erect and eyes spark- 

 ling, to catch the refuse thrown them by the Eskimos. 



In the Whale Sound region we sometimes obtained 

 narwhal and deer, but there was no narwhal hunting 

 to speak of on the upward journey this last time. 

 Walrus, narwhal, and seal meat are valuable food for 

 dogs, but a white man does not usually enjoy it — 

 unless he is nearly starved. Many times, however, 

 during my twenty-three years of arctic exploration, 

 I have thanked God for even a bite of raw dog. 



