406 
THE STORY OF THE WALRUS. 
capsize them. They display a truly heroic devotion to their young, and will 
perish in their defense. 
The walrus is partial, like some higher animals, to the sound of its own 
voice, and will recline on the ice for hours listening to its continuous bellow. 
That he is a dangerous animal to attack may be seen from the follow¬ 
ing anecdote:—A young and courageous, but imprudent Eskimo, plunged 
his spear or harpoon into a brown walrus; the beast’s savage aspect alarmed 
him when too late, and before using his lance he called for help. Vainly 
the other men advised him to retreat. “It is a brown walrus!” they 
exclaimed. “Auvokkaiok! Hold back!” When it was seen that the young 
man either would not or could not follow their advice, his only brother 
sprang forward and hurled the second harpoon. Almost immediately the 
furious creature turned upon him, and ripped him up, just as a wild boar 
might have done. 
This ungainly creature, though so unsightly in features, is in reality quiet 
and inoffensive, unless attacked or roused in love-time, when woe betide 
those who measure his strength, especially if he reach his native watery 
element. Some travelers represent him as distrustful, ferocious and sus¬ 
picious. They are very seldom met with singly, but often found in herds 
from a dozen to several hundreds. They crowd up from the water on to 
the rocks or ice one after the other, grunting and bellowing. The first 
arrival is no sooner composed in sleeping trim, than a second comes prod¬ 
ding and poking with its blunt tusks, forcing room for itself, while the first 
is urged farther from the water; the second in turn is similarly treated by 
the third; and so on, until numbers will lie packed close, heads and tails 
resting against and on each other, in the most convenient and friendly man¬ 
ner possible. There they sleep and snore to their hearts’ content, but 
nevertheless, keep sentinels on guard in a singular fashion. Some one would 
seem to disturb another; then this fellow would raise his head listlessly, give 
a grunt and a poke to his nearest companion, who would rouse up a few 
minutes, also grunt, and pass the watchword to his neighbor, and so on 
through the herd, this disturbance always keeping some few on the alert. 
When surprised on the ice the females first provide for the safety of their 
v young ones by flinging them into the sea and conveying them to a secure 
distance; they then return with great rage to the place where they were 
attacked for the purpose of revenging any injury they may have received. 
They will sometimes attempt to fasten their teeth on the boats in order to 
sink them, or will rise under them in great numbers with the intention of 
