ACROSS MELTING ICE TO SUMMER VALLEY 



now found that it consisted of five animals instead of six, as we 

 had originally assumed. 



The hunt was quick and easy. The musk-oxen, one bull 

 and four cows, grazed on a fertile hill near to the killed animals. 

 By way of a small valley we had approached unseen by them, 

 and we now stood before them suddenly and without warning. 

 As soon as they discovered us they gathered and formed into 

 their famous order of battle, in no way appearing to be 

 surprised or impressed. They quite calmly looked into our 

 eyes and contented themselves by occasionally sharpening their 

 horns against the stones. 



A herd of wild cattle like this possesses a most impressive 

 dignity ; not for a moment does their calm ruminating balance 

 desert them as long as the onlooker keeps quiet. They show 

 not the slightest sign of fear as does other game of the wilder- 

 ness, such as the bear or the reindeer, which run away at a long 

 distance. To run across a musk-ox means really to meet it ; it 

 remains quietly standing, examining and scanning us, but over 

 our meeting there is a certain equality, a silent dignity, which 

 almost bears the stamp of an audience in the midst of the great 

 silent waste where no other sound is known than the rush of 

 the rivers and the scream of birds. 



They do not suspect, these black, long-haired majesties, 

 that two-legged knick-knacks like us carry such mean devilment 

 as quick-firing machine-guns, nor that all the wolf-dogs, which 

 in the beginning we considerately kept back, will be urged on to 

 them as soon as they attempt to retire from our obtrusive 

 presence. 



As usual, we wish to start by photographing them, but this 

 did not fall in with the wish of the bull. He made a few light- 

 ning-swift sallies, so sudden and dangerous that we quickly had 

 to shoot him so that we might photograph his wives in peace. 

 When this was finished these also had to bite the dust ; and I 

 must say that they accepted death with the same contempt for 

 pain as did the great bull. A bullet through the chest, and 

 they sink to their knees once more staring at us with their large 

 unfathomable eyes, as if protesting against the deceitfulness of 

 M 177 



