Winter Life 113 



himself at the same time and probing every suspicious mound. Suddenly a 

 dog begins to scratch in the snow. The hunter hastens to the spot and probes 

 about with his long horn "feeler" until he finds the exact centre of the hole; 

 then he carefully stamps the snow round the probe and draws it out, leaving 

 only a deep hole about half an inch in diameter. Down this he pushes his 

 indicator, a fine stick of bone or horn about as thick, but as long ' again, 

 as an ordinary steel knitting needle. At the lower end is a small thin bone' 

 disc, and at the top an eyelet to which the short string of sinew is fastened that 

 attaches it to another needle, shorter and discless. The indicator rests against 

 the snow at the side of the hole, which keeps it from falling, but the sHghtest 

 disturbance below will cause it to drop. The second needle is pegged into the 

 snow above so that the indicator can be recovered afterwards. The hunter 

 then places his deerskin or bearskin foot pad under his feet to keep them from 

 freezing and remains perfectly still, holding the shaft of the harpoon in his 

 right hand and the, loop at the end of the line in his left. Every few minutes 

 he stoops to examine his indicator, then straightens up again and scans the 

 horizon around him. A slight quivering of the indicator gives him his cue. 

 He stands with uplifted harpoon on the lee side of the hole — for the seal has a 

 very quick scent — and when the indicator suddenly drops he strikes with all 

 his might. 



Sometimes a hunter will use another kind of indicator. Instead of the 

 long bone needle with a disc at the end he has a flattened piece of caribou leg- 

 sinew split nearly to the top. The two ends are then bent round till they lie 

 some two or three inches apart; and each is split again a little to make them 

 grip a wisp of down that is stretched between them, the down being taken 

 indifferently from a duck, a goose or a swan. The sinew is now laid vertically 

 in the hole without reaching to the water, and is held in place by a shqrt needle 

 pushed into the snow above, as with the other form of indicator. The seal, 

 when it blows at the surface, causes the down to flutter up and down, and the 

 hunter strikes as nearly as possible down the centre. 



Often the hunter fails to strike his quarry. Sometimes the harpoon just 

 grazes it, sometimes it penetrates but not sufficiently deep to hold the animal 

 fast. But if it does hold a struggle commences, a very grim struggle indeed 

 if the animal is one of the larger rough seals or a bearded seal. The usual method 

 of killing the animal, after it has been dragged to the surface, is by stabbing it 

 in the eye with the sharp handle of the scoop or ladle that is used for enlarging 

 the seal hole. Not everyone can hold on to a large bearded seal, and only a 

 very few can draw one up out of its hole. The hunter must call to his com- 

 panions for assistance. Many Eskimos have great scars on their hands that 

 testify to the enormous strain of holding a bearded seal on the end of the line, 

 and many a stirring .tale is told of the adventures of different hunters. Some 

 have a tragic issue. Ilatsiak had seen a Netsihk Eskimo named Tutiktok 

 whose mitten had dropped off during the struggle, and the line, dragging 

 through his hand, had severed all his fingers. Another man, Ikpakhuak said, 

 harpooned a bearded seal one autumn on the edge of the ice in Simpson bay. 

 The animal immediately plunged into the water, and dragged the man in with 

 it. From time to time the people saw it rise to the surface, blowing hard, and 

 apparently still having the hunter in tow behind it.^ 



Most of the scars that cover the hunters' hands, however, are gained in a 

 more inglorious manner. A rough seal is dragged home intact by one or more 

 of the dogs, after a small piece of the skin and blubber has been cut off and 

 thrown away as an offering to the other seals. A bearded seal, on the other 

 hand, is cut up beside its hole. A great shout goes up whenever a man spears 

 one of these animals, and all the hunters in the vicinity rush to his assistance. 



iCf. Stefanason, My Life with the Eskimo, p. 268. 

 23335—8 



