LANDING A WALRUS 



towards the heroic in one's imagination ; they are a 

 nation of stolid, unemotional hunters, used to facing 

 death in icefields and canoes and awful storms on 

 mountain passes, quiet and unconcerned in times of 

 danger, but capable at a crisis of showing that greater 

 love that prompts a man to lay down his life for his 

 friend. 



There was gloom for a few days after the tragedy 

 of Jakko ; but the Eskimos soon forget ; bereavement 

 does not wound them very deeply, and soon the 

 village wore its usual air of subdued bustle, and away 

 at the sina the hunters were after the seals. 



But seals are not the only quarry ; by far the 

 best fortune that a man can have at the sina is to 

 catch sight of a walrus resting on the ice. The great 

 idea is to rush boldly upon the ponderous beast and 

 spear or shoot it while it is too dazed to move. It 

 has no chance ; it is unwieldy and slow and has 

 hardly made up its mind which way to turn before 

 the hunter is on it and its life is over. " Ahaila," 

 said Gustaf with a grin when I asked him about it, 

 " Eskimo make a noise and run fast and Aivek 

 (walrus) stay there all the time and get killed plenty 

 soon. Go quiet, creep, creep, creep, and old Aivek 

 smell Eskimo and crawl off to the water. Flop, 

 gone, no catch him now ; plenty frightened, no 

 good." I knew very well while Gustaf was telling 

 me all this in his queer, broken English, with 

 wavings of his hands and expressive grins and 

 shrugs, that he would be quite ready to embark .in 

 his kajak and hunt the walrus in its native element. 

 A walrus is, no doubt, a formidable beast ; its 

 ferocious eyes and bristling whiskers and great gleam- 

 tusks make a terrible picture ; and the very weight 



