CHAPTER XXIV 



SUMMER LIFE IN BANKS ISLAND 



ON July 2nd my diary records a word against the ravens and 

 gulls. We predatory animals do not get along together any 

 too well and are inclined to be jealous of one another. On 

 this occasion I had killed a caribou that had a little fat, and while 

 I was gone after pack dogs to fetch the meat, some gulls and ravens 

 had found the carcass. They did not have time to eat much, but 

 they did have time to eat every speck of fat. We had given up seal 

 hunting because the pursuit of the seal on the summer ice is a very 

 sloppy undertaking. Caribou fat was therefore precious to us and 

 was as yet of limited quantity because the season was too early. 

 Hence my annoyance at the gulls. 



Next day I killed two bulls that had half , an inch of back 

 fat, and from that time on we no longer stinted ourselves on fat, 

 although it was well towards the end of July before we began to 

 give much of it to the dogs. This was not entirely because we were 

 short of it but partly because we were anxious to save it for the 

 winter. It was conceivable that ice conditions might prevent the 

 Star's coming, in which case we should need fat badly, both for 

 food and for winter candlelight. The first part of the winter 

 we would then spend in Bank's Island and begin traveling when 

 the light should be abundant in the spring. We talked of going 

 to Victoria Island and thence to the mainland and over to Great 

 Bear Lake, a country thoroughly familiar to me from my second 

 expedition. But secretly I was hoping that when spring came we 

 should, even in the absence of ships, find ourselves in such spirits 

 and so equipped that we could make a second ice journey, prefer- 

 ably northwest from Banks Island. 



To spend a summer in Banks Island as we did that one was a 

 delight. Storkerson and I knew well the tricks and methods of 

 living in an arctic land and Ole proved an apt pupil. The caribou 

 grew fatter and their skins more sleek and better for clothing. 

 We killed altogether about forty fat bulls and dried over half a 

 ton of back fat, the equivalent of that much bacon. We lived on 



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