579 



Upon its arrival, the plane itself had been met by villagers driving nearly 50 

 snowmaehines, small caterpillar vehicles designed to travel over snow and 

 tundra and costing some $1,200 each. It is no longer the number of husky sled- 

 dogs but rather the nmuber of such snow vehicles which is the prime status sym- 

 bol in Eskimo Alaska today. 



At the beginning of the himting season newly killed walruses are skinned (an 

 umiak used in razor-sharp ice is customarily recovered each year) and its meat, 

 used primarily for the remaining sled-dogs, is loaded into the hunters' boat But 

 very soon the point is reached at which the dead walruses are relieved of only a 

 few parts prized as delicacies, such as the heart and liver, and others which are 

 commercially valuable — among which is the male's j^enis bone, i>opular as a travel 

 souvenir from Alaska and used to enliven an otherwise dull stag evening. But 

 primary among the sought-after jxarts is the ivory of the tusks which extend far 

 out of the mouth of both male and female walrus. The hunt for meat of former 

 days has now largely deteriorated into a hunt for heads. 



And in Gambell. when grey whales approached the coast, playing in the water 

 and spewing fountains from their blow-holes, I saw teenagers using these rare 

 animals for target practice — with live ammunition. 



The responsible oflBcials of Alaska's Department of Fish and Game are no doubt 

 aware of this situation. It is diflBcult to shake off the impression that, in order to 

 have a pretext for intervening, they would welcome an international outcry of 

 indignation. In view of the powerful Eskimo lobby, there is little that they can do 

 on their own initiative, especially since numerically speaking the Pacific walrus 

 is far from belonging on the list of those species threatened with extinction. Aerial 

 counts and statistical evaluations yield an estimate of at least 95.000 walruses at 

 present. 



Alaska's hunting laws permit any hunter resident in the state to bag an 

 unlimited number of walrus bulls each year, but only five cows (the quality of 

 whose ivory is superior to that of the males ) . Hunters from outside the state are 

 permitted only one bull. 



At present the Alaskan Eskimos bring in some 1,700 animals annually, among 

 them less than 700 cows. But there is some controversy as to how much this 

 figure must be multiplied in order to arrive at the actual number of animals 

 killed. Some losses are inevitable in hunting maritime mammals. 



The easiest way to somewhat ameliorate the situation would be through manipu- 

 lation of demand for ivory, which is the actual motive for this headhunt. Eski- 

 mos should not be permitted, openly yet in clear violation of the law, to bring 

 treated walrus skulls by plane to the black market without being punished for 

 it. Consumption of raw ivory by Eskimo carvers — which constitutes the legal and 

 government-regulated market for raw ivory — could be artificially reduced. 



As to the hunters, considering the low rates now paid for raw ivory ($1.75 per 

 pound), any losses in income they might suffer could be easily replaced. A single 

 group of tourists who, instead of supporting the senseless massacre of the walrus 

 by buying ivory souvenirs, would choose instead the icy adventure of a photo 

 safari in an Eskimo umiak, would leave behind them in the Eskimo village enough 

 dollars so that an entire herd of walrus could live on unmolested. 



Sea Otteks Ambushed 



The story of North America's sea otters generally is taken to be a nick-of-time 

 conservation success story. Almost wiped out in a fur-hunting frenzy that raged 

 along the Pacific Coast during the nineteenth century, the two sub-species of otter 

 somehow held on in scattered remnants until strict protection was granted them. 

 The northern sub-species staged a comeback around Amchitka Island in Alaska's 

 remote Aleutians, protected by sheer distance and bad weather as well as by law. 

 The southern sea otter, nearer civilization, fared less well in the fur hunt and less 

 well afterwards. For a time it was feared extinct. But it too climbed slowly 

 toward a reasonably secure population, protected everywhere by laws with stiff 

 penalties and given special protection in a refuge. Many otter supporters began 

 to think the worst of the battle was over. 



It seems now that it is much too soon to remove the endangered .species tag 

 from this remarkable animal. The twentieth century scourge of pollution and the 

 age-old power of profit are formidable barriers to the southern otters' survival. 

 In a shocking demonstration of arrogance in the face of the interests of the entire 

 nation and world, certain abalone fishermen in California in recent months have 



