96 On the trail of vanishing birds 



history. Elizabeth, nearly overcome with giggles, kept working 

 the handle back and forth, vigorously, all the time we were in 

 the camp. There was a tent, quite comfortably rigged, and all 

 around were the stretched and drying pelts of muskrats. To one 

 side the naked carcasses were heaped, to be carried back to the 

 settlement and fed to the sled dogs. The Mackenzie 'rats have 

 a thick, dark fur that was selling that spring for as much as $2.25 

 each at the Bay in Aklavik and bringing nearly twice that in 

 Edmonton. Some of the camps would take a thousand or more 

 pelts during the brief open season, so such comparative luxuries 

 as primitive washing machines, up-to-date battery radio sets, and 

 ice cream and movies at the settlement are entirely within the 

 scope of these pleasant natives. In protecting the trapping rights 

 of the natives of these territories, the Canadian government has 

 done an admirable thing. The Loucheux and Husky populations 

 of that region are not merely self-sufficient; many of them are 

 relatively prosperous, with property and resources beyond the 

 ability of most natives. Most of the well-to-do Eskimos that we 

 met, however, had made their wealth from Arctic fox furs, which 

 are trapped during the long, dark winter months when they are 

 prime. Incidentally, few muskrats are trapped in the delta, but 

 are shot in the head with a .22-caliber rifle bullet. We soon learned 

 how expert some of the natives are at this type of hunting. Bob 

 wanted a native-made parka and Bill Carson recommended a 

 local seamstress, a very pretty young Indian girl who lived up- 

 stream on the Peel. Word was sent out and a day or so later she 

 appeared, with tape measure and material. Bill explained that she 

 had been out hunting and that the night before, in ten or twelve 

 hours' time, with her little peashooter, had slain a black bear and 

 more than 200 muskrats. We were much impressed, especially 

 as she was as shy and as full of feminine giggles as old Elizabeth. 

 The gasoline barge arrived on the fourteenth. It came to anchor 

 in the channel early in the day and required until evening to un- 

 load, adding more confusion to the already crowded waterfront. 

 We sat on empty oil drums and watched. There were many birds 

 to be seen right in the town or close to the outskirts. Bold black 

 ravens hopped about on the snow patches close to houses and 



