NOVEL DUCK-HUNT. 



357 



allow not one moment's breathing-time to the terrified duck. 

 Koodloo stood on the bow of the boat, pointing out the course 

 taken by the duck, which could be easily traced in the clear wa- 

 ters below, and on the instant of the sign being given, Koojesse 

 most expertly turned the boat in the direction indicated. In 

 seven minutes the duck gave up the chase. It came to the sur- 

 face utterly exhausted, and was easily captured by Koodloo, who 

 hauled it in with his hand. 



The joyous feelings displayed by the Innuits over this capture, 

 which was to them a source of amusement, was hardly less than 

 if they had killed a Ninoo. The rocks and hills bordering on 

 Bear Sound resounded with their joyous shouts and boisterous 

 laughter. Echo sent back their merry voices, until I myself, 

 though vexed at any delays that might retard us, could not help 

 joining in the hilarity of the scene. 



This way of securing ducks was continued for some time, and 

 ended with what was to me an affecting trait of nature, always 

 touching to the heart. One of the ducks caught was a mother, 

 with its young still unfledged. The parent was dying, and the 

 fledgling, at each gasp of its mother, would place its beak in con- 

 tact with that of its parent, as if soliciting food, and then crouch 

 beneath the old duck's wings to nestle there. Again and again 

 was this done, as if trying all its power to attract the watchful at- 

 tention of its mother ; but it was soon left alone, and Tunukder- 

 lien then took care of it. 



So much time had been consumed in drowning ducks and in 

 sealing that the tide was now against us, forcing us to hold over a 

 while; therefore we landed on Lefferts Island,* which is in the 

 midst of Bear Sound. Here I took a walk back upon the island 

 while the Innuits were feasting on ducks and seal. At meridian 

 I took observations for latitude, and soon after we again started, 

 making our way down on the west side of the sound. The ducks 

 we now saw were innumerable ; the water and air were black with 

 them. 



On arriving at Cape True, the old whaling depot, we rested a 

 while, and I examined the now deserted place. Of course no 

 white man's tent or Innuit tupics were to be seen, but several frag- 

 ments denoted what had existed there. 



Frobisher Bay had no ice upon its waters except a few bergs, 



* So named by me after Marshall Lefferts, of New York City. This island is the 

 largest in Bear Sound. 



