32 HUNTING WITH THE ESKIMOS 



and I attempted to reach a point some ten miles up 

 the Bay, behind which it was expected caribou would 

 be found. The ice, however, was too heavy for our 

 little boat to negotiate, and we therefore changed our 

 course and made a landing on the opposite shore, 

 where camp was pitched in a romantic spot at the 

 edge of a mountainous country, with the ice cap be- 

 hind plainly visible, and the ice-dotted waters of the 

 bay stretching out before. 



A cold rain had set in and we turned into our 

 sleeping-bags to rest. We arose at seven in the 

 morning for a hasty breakfast. The rain had ceased, 

 and presently the sun burst through the mist to an- 

 nounce a propitious day for the hunt. 



Behind the camp the hills rise sharply, and above 

 is a wide, rock strewn valley which leads back into 

 the country. At the top of the hill we separated, 

 Norton and Larned each taking two Eskimos, I four, 

 and our parties turned in different directions. 



My injured knee was very painful and made walk- 

 ing extremely difficult, but I never hunted harder in 

 my life. For sixteen hours I traveled over the rocky 

 country, scouring it for caribou. There were plenty 

 of signs, but not a glimpse of a single animal did I 

 get, and with my knee paining severely at length 

 returned to camp. The others had not yet arrived, 

 and one of the Eskimos borrowed my .22 automatic 

 rifle and killed three large hares while I made tea. 



I had just eaten supper and lain down when 

 Larned came in with the announcement that he had 

 killed seven caribou and seventeen ptarmigans. He 



