TWO DIANAS IN ALASKA 157 



the Arctic Ocean, and if I found myself there again 

 to-morrow my one heartfelt cry would be, "A few 

 miles farther north." 



Since we had come out to slay walruses, why do I 

 not get, as the Yankees say, " right down to the 

 solid business " ? 



Now, a walrus is an animal around which there 

 clings a host of historical romance and fable. Nor 

 is this altogether to be wondered at when we regard 

 the almost pre-historic appearance of the Bering Sea 

 walrus (Odobaenus obesus), the largest living species 

 of its tribe, nor when we consider at what great dis- 

 tances remote from the haunts of ancient historians 

 these gigantic brutes lived. Even to-day the number 

 of our fellow-countrymen who have actually seen these 

 animals is small, and fewer still have ever killed one. 

 Moreover, I believe it is correct to say that a whole 

 specimen of this particular walrus does not exist to- 

 day in any of our leading European museums. 



We read in a work, De Animalibus, compiled by a 

 certain historian, Albertus Magnus, who died in 1280, 

 that " the walrus is taken by the hunter while the 

 sleeping animal hangs by its large tusks to a cleft in 

 the rock. Cutting out a piece of its skin and fasten- 

 ing to it a strong rope, whose other end is tied to 

 trees, posts, and large rings fixed to rocks, the hunter 

 wakens the walrus by throwing large stones at its 

 head. In its attempts to escape it leaves its hide 

 behind. It perishes soon after, and is thrown up half 

 dead on the beach." 



So much for our friend Albertus Magnus. The 



