THE FUR-SEAL INDUSTRY 321 



a cockpit amidships. Here the Eskimo sits, his legs 

 extended forward beneath the skin deck, with a sort 

 of apron of hide fastened around the edge of the 

 cockpit and secured tightly about his waist so that no 

 water can get in. He uses a double-bladed paddle, 

 dipping first on one side and then the other. 



With this primitive fragile craft the Eskimos go 

 after their walrus. The danger is evident when one 

 considers that one swipe of a walrus's tusks can 

 smash the kayak and finish the hunter's career. 

 Nevertheless the Eskimos have nerve and never 

 falter; they paddle their kayaks behind a herd of 

 walruses until they get close enough to hurl a har- 

 poon into the broad back of one of them. The har- 

 poon head carries a line of walrus hide, the other end 

 of which is fastened to a bladder float. When the 

 harpoon strikes the walrus, he usually turns and 

 madly charges the float, which is so light that it 

 bounces away as soon as it is struck. The Eskimo 

 hunter is wise enough to keep out of reach of the 

 wildly charging beast and waits for the wounded 

 animal to tire. Eventually, when this occurs, the 

 Eskimo comes close to the beast and finishes him 

 with a thrust of his lance. Sometimes the hunt does 

 not end so happily for the Eskimo ; the walrus may 

 manage to charge the canoe and destroy it, or the 

 other members of the herd may come to the aid of 

 the wounded one and force the hunter to flee for 

 his life. 



In 1870 white men began hunting for walruses in 

 the far north, using rifles, and since then they have 

 more than decimated the great herds of walruses 



