HUNTING AND ANIMAL LIFE IN EAST GREENLAND.[75]
The Polar bear.--Its aliment.--Migration of the bears.--Natural
History notes on the Polar bear.--Its curiosity.--Precautions
to be adopted in bear-hunting.--Their powerful vital
energy.--Sundry matters.--Arctic foxes.--Their natural
history.--The reindeer.--The musk-ox.--The walrus.--The
seal.--The Arctic hare.--Birds.--Sea animals, &c.
Hunting often begins in Greenland, where it ends with us--in
self-defence; but it possesses scientific interest for the zoologist,
and the food obtained by it enables the explorer to remain longer away
from the ship.
There is the zoological, the geographical, and the pleasure hunt; the
latter is of the least frequent occurrence.
Hunting the bear or the walrus is attended with considerable danger;
that of the musk-ox, reindeer, fox, birds, and sea-animals affords only
amusement.
The polar bear,[76] which, with his yellowish-white shaggy skin and
black nose, forms a sharp contrast against the snow-fields at a
long distance off, weighs from ten to twelve hundredweight, and far
surpasses in size those specimens in zoological gardens or menageries
(which are brought over young, and developed under such unfavourable
circumstances); it is surpassed by neither the lion nor the tiger in
point of strength, and is quite as dangerous. But the cold zone in
which it lives[77] cools its blood; it is wary and mistrustful. The
contradictory reports of their courage shows that one must never judge
one specimen by another, but that each individual is guided by its need
of food at the moment.
It lives chiefly on seals, watching for them through the ice-fissures,
and falls upon them whilst sunning themselves, with all the cunning of
the tiger, and the same stealthy step. It also pursues the seal even
when diving, for it is a powerful swimmer, and only the reindeer excels
it in speed. Over jagged rocky declivities it climbs with cat-like
dexterity. The roughness of its soles, its claws, and hairy paws,
insure its safety equally on smooth or sloping ice-surfaces. Payer
skinned the hind-feet of a bear we had killed, carefully cleaned them
from all fat, rubbed them with alum, and wore them himself--they were
beautiful warm stockings, for the bear had good soles. Unfortunately
they were lost in a fire on board during the winter.
As the seals remain chiefly among the pack-ice, or on its outer edge,
so also the bear during the summer is a frequent visitor. It follows
the seal-hunters step for step, in order to devour the skinned animals,
or when revelling in excess swims to the carcase of a whale. The bear
kills its prey before eating it, although it likes to play with it
first. It rides on the floes in the Arctic current down to Iceland. It
is often seen miles from land, and swims towards boats or ships, until
driven back by shots. When glutted with the enjoyment of fat seals it
varies its diet by ducks’ eggs, and a few hours is quite enough for it
to clear a small island entirely.
It is certainly hard for the Arctic traveller to be exposed to the
tender mercies of a bear’s two-inch incisors; but a gun, and a pocket
filled with cartridges, are a much more simple process than dragging a
dead seal about after one. If you are unarmed, the slightest movement
disquiets the bear, and provokes him to action. But it is a much more
serious matter to meet him in the darkness, and be mistaken for a seal,
a mistake only cleared up when it is too late. If you are armed, the
coolness of his adversary inspires the bear with a certain amount of
respect.
But the bear also deserves our compassion. His life is one continued
pursuit of food, although he is protected from the cold by a layer of
fat several inches thick. Once we found in the stomach of one that had
belonged to a besieging corps (which during the whole of the winter and
spring had watched the frozen ship closely, and had forced us to be
wonderfully cautious), nothing but a flannel lappet, which our tailor
had thrown away, and in the case of many others it was quite empty.
Sometimes the stomach of a dead bear contains nothing but water, and
large pieces of sea-weed (_Laminaria_), so that hunger compels
it to eat herbs. It is certainly no trifle in this world of frost,
cold, and darkness, with its horrible snow-storms, that mountains only
can offer sufficient obstacles to his wanderings for food amidst the
chaotic crowding and towering ice-fields, surrounded by fissures, or
floating out to sea on an ice-floe. Certainly its brown cousin in
Europe lives in luxury compared with him, and is comparatively to be
envied.
In the early part of the year the layer of fat, which lies under the
skin in the summer and autumn, quite fails. A large male bear, killed
near the ship on the 1st of April, 1870, was dreadfully lean; while a
female bear, shot on Sabine Island, the 7th of July, 1870, was rather
fat.
With regard to the much agitated question as to whether the bear
hybernates, we could make no direct observation. But we can say at what
time of year we saw them. On the 10th of January, 1870, one came to the
ship, and we hunted him, but he escaped; on the 13th of January, 1870,
Theodore Klentzer was pursued by one; on the 6th of March, Dr. Börgen
was attacked by another; afterwards they visited us daily. When I add
that Copeland fought with one near Cape Borlase Warren, on the 28th of
October, 1869, one may easily see that their winter sleep, if they have
any, must either be very short or very disturbed. On the 9th of March
we saw a bear in a storm, wandering about with powerful strides, and
seeming to think nothing of the bad weather, although a man, protected
by the best of clothes, could scarcely have moved from the spot.
The bear which we shot on the 1st of April, about 300 steps from the
ship, cost us the greatest exertions to drag away against the north
wind.
The smell of burnt fat draws the creatures from miles round. In their
wanderings they climb high groups of ice, and one can sometimes see
them looking far out, with their snouts in the air, smelling for food.
The Esquimaux often catch them by it,--a manœuvre, which requires
cleverness and self-possession: and many of them bear marks of the
battle fought under such circumstances. Head wounds excepted, a shot
will sometimes take away all power of resistance in the strangest
manner. Meetings with bears are attended by very different results.
It often happens that a party of sledge travellers, under peculiar
circumstances, and with but little time to spare, pass one, or more of
them, sometimes but a few steps off, when they cause no other feeling
than that of curiosity and astonishment.
Krauschner, the engineer, was the snow-purveyor for the kitchen, and
had to go twice a day with his sledge to the neighbouring glacier.
Once a bear attached himself to him. He walked with dignified steps as
an escort behind the sledge, and not until the engineer had reached
the ship did our shout of alarm make him aware of the presence of his
somewhat doubtful friend.
On the whole, the flesh of the bear (particularly that of the old
animals) is far inferior to that of the brown bear. It is coarse and
tough, and tastes more or less of train oil. Barentz and many others
maintain that the liver is prejudicial to health. The flesh, however,
we have always found wholesome, and the Esquimaux west of Davis Straits
give it to their dogs.
Sometimes, on our sledge journeys, we were surprised in the tent; but
we never set a thorough watch, chiefly because we none of us really
slept, and a large creature like that could not approach without a
slight rustle.
A tent is to a bear thoroughly unintelligible, and an object alike
of mistrust and curiosity. One of Kane’s companions, who was roused
by the growling of a bear and the appearance of its head through the
aperture of the tent, had the presence of mind to put a lighted box
of lucifer-matches under his nose, an insult which he magnanimously
forgave, and disappeared at once.
Our first meeting with one was on the 4th of August, among the
pack-ice, the day before we landed in Greenland. We had laid to by a
large ice-floe, when about 300 steps from us we saw two bears. The
burning of seals’ fat had drawn their attention, for their black
nozzles were high in the air, though they were shy of approaching the
ship. Copeland, Sengstacke, and Payer got into the boat, and under
cover of the steep floe, rowed towards them; but the newly-formed ice,
which filled a creek in the floe, only admitted of Payer’s landing.
He shot hurriedly and missed, and they at once disappeared among the
hummocks.
It is not advisable to approach such a powerful enemy, unless he is
completely disabled. We met with bears which stood as firm as a rock
against the shot, although at every bullet they quivered violently, and
streams of blood flowed from them.[78]
Void of all fat, and hungry, these beasts of prey haunted the coast,
until upon discovering the ship, the movements of the men at once drew
their attention, and they never left the neighbourhood of Griper Roads
(the name of the winter harbour). Whoever went into the open air,
though only a few steps from the ship, during the long polar night,
required his gun at half-cock. One night the engineer, as he came on
deck, heard a great rustle; and in the morning footprints showed that
a bear had advanced over the snow to the tent.
These besiegers also paid repeated visits to our provisions on land;
but they played our astronomers the worst trick, for they carried
off the measuring apparatus for deciding the length of the base. The
greatest evil for sledge-travellers is, that however important a depôt
they may make for provisions, they can never leave it secure from
these _feræ_ of the ice. The best way is to hang a sack upon an
inaccessible wall of rock. The strength which the bears possess in
digging out anything that is buried is astonishing. Covering over with
frozen sand and water is better than the heaviest stone, because it
blunts the bear’s claws.
In spite of their great numbers seldom more than three (and that a
family) are ever seen together.[79] It is always well understood that
the old ones must be killed first, for a she-bear deprived of her cubs
is a terrible adversary. If they are only wounded, she pushes them
before her or defends them with her own body, though a cub will never
hesitate to devour the flesh of its mother.
The ice-fields of its native home are pleasant to the bear, and it will
not willingly part from them.
The whaler “Bienenkorb,” which we visited in 1869, had one in a cage on
deck; and when, from the strong motion of the ship, it caught sight of
the ice, it began to howl dismally. Indeed, the sight of the drift-ice
worked so powerfully on the creature, that they were at last obliged
to hang a veil of sail-cloth before the cage.
On the 23rd of August, on our return voyage, we saw through the
pack-ice, half hidden by the fog, the three last bears, and as it fell
they seemed to be taking leave of us in a stage tableau.
The Arctic fox (_Canis lagopus_, L.[80]) is a very interesting
species of its genus. It is either (and that irrespective of the time
of year) bluish white or grey.[81] Its coat, which is wonderfully
soft, forms an article of commerce with the Hudson’s Bay Company. It
is considerably smaller in bulk than the polar hare, which, when grown
up, generally weighs eight pounds and three-quarters. Its flesh is no
delicacy. Barentz, and since him several other Arctic travellers, have,
however, found it enjoyable, and we (Pansch and Copeland) did our best
to eat it.
The Arctic fox has, with but few exceptions, none of the cunning
attributed to our own Reynard. At least our recollections of it (except
in one or two cases) are of a most harmless character. During the
winter we succeeded in catching some after the manner of the Esquimaux.
Once one was taken out of the trap and laid down for dead, but after a
time it sprang up and rushed away. For the young ducks, for which it
has a great weakness, the fox is a bitter enemy. It lives upon anything
it can get in winter, even shell-fish and other saltwater produce which
is brought by the tide on to the strand-ice. In the summer lemmings
seem to be its chief food.
Nearly the whole of the winter and spring we kept some prisoners in
the engine-room; in such close proximity to the coals they all turned
black. Two of them died of tubercles on the lungs. A beautiful grey fox
had to be garotted in the cabin for refractoriness; another was set
free, and the last deserted the cage that we had made it and put upon
the ice near the ship. This desertion, which was brought about by the
melting and falling down of the block of ice on which the cage stood,
and which we all witnessed from the deck, had something particularly
comical about it. The fox, which had almost waned away to a skeleton,
began to stretch himself, then to stick out his bushy tail like a
broom, wriggled his lanky body into a pool of water, and lastly, as
elegantly as a dancing-master and as if longing for liberty, started
off, without deigning to cast another look at the ship.
The European fox shuns mankind, but the Greenland fox seeks his society
in perfect innocence, and without any suspicion, for it hopes to
profit by him. It is the first, after a fortunate day’s hunting, to
show its astonishment, and also hasten to enjoy the spoil, as well as
steal a reindeer ham from the sledge in the night, and carry it away.
It accompanies him on hunting and sledge journeys at a respectful
distance, and employs his time of rest in visiting, opening, and
plundering the sack of provisions. An ice-bound ship it watches with
great favour, for there is always some lucky chance bringing him chance
of profit, and things which can easily be carried away. Indeed, it is
so accustomed to spunging upon others that it is often difficult to
make him ashamed of himself.
If, after hours of constant gnawing, or, when in company with others,
his envious snarling, one goes out of the tent to stop his tugging
at the ropes, instead of going away humbly, he looks boldly into his
benefactor’s face, barks at the firing, and goes off reluctantly.
At other times they come curiously trotting along, not allowing
themselves to be frightened by the firing, and a piece of bacon-rind
will entice them to follow the sledge for miles. It is a troublesome
piece of work to skin a fox newly killed, in the icy cold; its warm
skin forming a warmer neck-tie on that account.
The Greenland reindeer (_Tarandus rangifer_, L., var. _Groenlandicus_)
differs at least from the American, Laplandish, and Spitzbergen
species. Its horns are not shovelled at the tips, like theirs; they
are also more upright. It carries its head and neck high; its whole
build is elegant, and reminds one, in every respect, of the European
deer. Kane and Hayes also met with them in the most northerly parts
of West Greenland. Our excursions taught us that they increase in
numbers towards the interior of the country; indeed, at the back of
Kaiser Franz-Joseph Fjord, in the neighbourhood of a glacier remarkable
for its luxuriant vegetation, we came upon a tolerably good footpath
trodden by the reindeer.
The musk-ox,[82] properly speaking, the sheep-ox (_Ovibos moschatus_,
Blainv.), is somewhat smaller than the European ox. Its threatening
appearance is quite in contrast to its harmless nature; its colour is
black; its hair long, and falling in rough manes, though on its back is
some wool, not to be surpassed in fineness.[83] Payer pulled out the
wool of three that were killed, on Kuhn Island, to wrap up a number of
fossils in, for transportation, and took a careful sketch of one of the
most stately. Its eyes are particularly small.
As the name implies, the creature is distinguished according to its
age, some more, some less, by the smell of musk in its flesh and fat;
to which, however, one can as easily accustom oneself as to the smell
of train oil. Its flesh, upon the whole, greatly resembles that of
our own ox.[84] The first we saw and killed was on Shannon Island,
in August, 1869. As we did not then know this animal, we made the
strangest guesses, comparing it to a gnu.
Like the reindeer, it lives on vegetable food, which is scanty enough
here.
Scarcely anywhere in Greenland does the Flora suffice to change the
face of the soil; at the utmost, it only serves to shade it. Moss,
lichen, greyish-green grasses, ranunculus, saxifrage, &c., form meagre
solitary patches amongst the weather-beaten stone heaps. Here and
there the plains are covered with birch bushes, a few inches high (the
stems of which are often no thicker than a lucifer-match), also with
bilberry-bushes, but more often with sallows, creeping along the ground.
Almost every species of the Flora of the plain, especially the
garden-poppy, did we find on mountains from 1625 to 3250 feet high. On
the summit of a rock 7495 feet high grew, near the well-known black
and yellow lichen, known everywhere in the European Alps as the last
representative of vegetation, a long, fibrous kind of moss.
The greater summer warmth of the rocky interior of the country insures
there a more varied Flora. Former Esquimaux settlements, if only
covering a few square fathoms, were at once recognizable from their
light green colour, caused by constant manuring. Meadows, in our sense
of the term, were nowhere to be seen.
How far north the musk-ox and the reindeer are found we can scarcely
decide. The first we met in 77° N. Lat., and the last only in 75°. The
scanty means of existence afforded by the soil compel them to constant
wanderings.
Both animals are almost always met with in herds, sometimes of from
twenty to thirty head. The greatest number of reindeer we ever saw were
about 100 to 200 head, on a hilly ground to the west of Cape Broer
Ruys; and the greatest number of musk-oxen in the brown-coal district
of Kuhn Island. To the former we gave battle.
Their behaviour towards the hunter is in no way similar. The reindeer
approaches him at a brisk trot, full of curiosity, to within a few
steps; indeed, sometimes they come quite close to him. The musk-ox
remains as if rooted to the spot, staring at the strange, unknown
enemy, and arrives very slowly at a resolution.
At Cape Philip-Broke four of them most humbly condescended to play
with Payer by pretending to carry off his portable table. Older animals
stand fire most coolly, even after being wounded, and amuse themselves
by defending the most exposed part by putting down their heads, which
is their invulnerable part. One of them once received a shot from
a Wanzl-gun on his mailed forehead without showing the slightest
annoyance. The ball fell a flattened disc on to the ground!
If a family, or a herd with young ones, are surprised, they either form
a square (the young being in the centre, and the old outside, with
their heads down), or else the bull, placed as a sentinel, takes to
flight, and the others follow closely, the placing of their outposts
being astonishing. They are also excellent climbers. A retreating
herd climbed a snow-path at an incline of not less than 45° on a high
mountain near our winter harbour, and to our great astonishment we
saw one looking down upon us from between the craggy walls of Cape
Hamburg.[85] At the first shot a herd of approaching reindeer will make
a spring and then stand terrified; the next shot, or the fall of one
of them, puts them to flight. It costs something thus to dispel their
innocent confidence.
Once a reindeer ran hurriedly over the land to a boat that was landing.
It stood close to us on the shore, with its head stretched out, and its
large soft eyes watching us confidingly. One of us sprang hastily on
shore, and it ran off. Another time a number of them came close to the
tent. But a scene took place, which many of our hunting friends would
envy us, in a herd near Cape Bennet, in August, 1870. We had just left
our boat, which we were going to load with seven carcasses which we had
killed some days before and left behind; but unfortunately they had
all turned bad, as we had neglected to open them. Suddenly there came
from twenty to thirty head over the mountain-slope, and upon reaching a
snow-field all lay down, enticed by the refreshing coolness and our own
example, as we had just done the same thing. As, however, we started to
continue our journey, the front guard of the reindeer rose to do the
same; but it happened that one of them--evidently the leader--seemed
displeased that the greater number took no notice of the movement, as
they desired to have a little more rest; so it stopped the others,
turned back, and went to each animal separately, pushing it with its
horns, until they all stood up and began their march together to a new
grazing-place. The flesh of the reindeer is good, though somewhat soft
and spongy.
It is plain that these creatures were very useful to us, and that
without them we should often have been in a sad predicament.
Unfortunately, our furthest and most productive hunt took place shortly
before we left Greenland, and over against the island Jan-Mayen. We
had to throw more than a thousand pounds of reindeer and musk-oxen
flesh overboard, as the rising of the temperature beyond the pack-ice,
together with the damp, turned it all bad.
If any creature deserves the name of monster, it is the walrus. It is
from 9 feet 6 inches to 16 feet 6 inches long, weighs about 20 cwt.,
and its skin is 3½ inches thick (a sort of massive coat of mail), with
a head of infinite ugliness, rather large eyes, and tusks sometimes 30
inches long (of a sort of ivory), which helps the creature to obtain
his food (chiefly mussels) from the bottom of the sea, and, together
with the breast-fins, help him to climb on to the floating ice to a
place of rest. Round his jaws are long cat-like bristles, as thick as a
large darning-needle. Demoniacal as his appearance is, his voice is as
bad--a jerking, imitative scream, lowing and puffing, often repeated,
and in which it seems to delight. Walruses and seals, from their
richness in train-oil, are highly estimated in the Arctic fishery, and
are invaluable to the Esquimaux--indeed, in many cases when, either
from the blocking up of the coast with ice or the retreating of the
herd, they have been unable to catch any, they have almost died of
hunger. One way the Esquimaux have of killing the seals is to approach
them by degrees with a white screen, behind which they crouch, and
another by lying in ambush amongst the ice and harpooning them.
One of the largest walruses that we saw was killed on the ice, near
Shannon, on the 27th of August, 1869, by Dr. Copeland. It measured 9
feet 11 inches in length. The skin is particularly flexible and soft,
and the leather we used for straps for the machinery.
The time it remains under water depends (I think) upon the time the
creature has had for preparation. If a walrus is suddenly hunted
from his sleep into the water, it must rise again immediately to the
surface. Now it takes a deep breath. If it is again hunted, it comes up
again; if this is repeated five or six times, the walrus then seems to
be provided with a store, for now it dives in reality, and is seldom
seen again.
Walrus-hunting is very dangerous, for in its fury this animal can break
through ice six inches thick. If, therefore, it is not met with on
strong old ice, it is necessary to change one’s place very quickly, for
(as is the case with all mammals) the walrus is obliged to come to the
surface of cracks, or ice-holes, kept open for the purpose, in order
to breathe every ten minutes. The animals notice exactly the direction
and the distance of their enemy, and emerge at the spot to meet and
destroy him. Returning from the sledge journey from Tiroler Fjord, we
had abundant opportunity of proving this.
Contrasted with its ferocity in the water there is nothing more
innocent and harmless than a herd of walruses sunning themselves on
an ice-floe or the shore, or, indeed, sleeping on the water; but
unfortunately the comparison with a torpedo (which, for fear of some
accident, one dares not touch) is only too well founded. A single
ice-floe often bears twenty and sometimes a much larger number of these
creatures, their dark, sphynx-like bodies lying close together; the
head, from their long tusks, leaning sideways or upon one another;
and thus they sleep away the greater part of their existence in the
sun, lulled by the rushing and roaring of the breakers. The walrus,
surprised on shore or on an ice-field, is utterly helpless; and
although it strikes furiously on all sides with its teeth, is just as
harmless as it is terrible when its anger is roused in the water. One
peculiarity, which under some circumstances may be very dangerous, is
its great curiosity.
Should one of these monsters see a boat, it raises itself astonished
above the surface, utters at once a cry of alarm, swimming towards
it as quickly as possible. This call brings up others, awakens the
sleepers which the boat had carefully avoided, and in a short time the
small vessel is followed by a number of these monsters, blustering
in apparent or real fury in all their hideousness. The creatures may
possibly be only actuated by curiosity, but their manner of showing it
is unfortunately so ill-chosen that one feels obliged to act on the
defensive. The bellowing, jerking, and diving herd is now but a short
distance from the boat. The first shot strikes, and this inflames their
wrath, and now begins a wild fight in which some of the black sphynxes
are struck with axes on the flappers, with which they threaten to
overturn the boat. Others of the men defend themselves with a spear or
with the blade of an oar.
Often, from some unknown cause, these creatures turn suddenly from the
fight, jerking and diving under water, and when at some distance, turn
their ugly heads to look back, and fill the air with their vindictive
grunts.
In the summer of 1869 a boat excursion to Cape Wynn with difficulty
escaped the destruction of their craft. Another time they were followed
by a herd and succeeded in reaching the shore of an island, where,
though only for a short time, they were blockaded in. The longer you
live in Arctic regions the less can you persuade yourself to attack
these creatures in their own element, unless forced by pressing
circumstances, i. e., want of either food or of oil, and then it is
advisable, if in boats, to provide oneself with cartridges. The most
successful hunt is when these creatures are surprised on the ice-floes.
When approaching very near them, the oars are shipped and the boat
noiselessly landed. The hunters get upon the floe behind the creature,
but scarcely does one raise its head in contempt and anger than all the
others wake up, and the whole herd press forward, pushing the young
ones with them to the edge of the floe, where they turn head foremost
into the water. Only this short time is at the hunter’s disposal,
and his shots must be quick and true. Should one of the young ones
be killed, the mother carries it with her flappers, challenging her
enemies to fight, with a fierce look. A walrus once killed is quickly
made fast by a rope to the boat before it sinks. The weight of these
creatures is so enormous that two of them which we had hoisted on to
the same side of the deck gave it a decided inclination.
We were obliged to eat seals as well as walrus, and that too (more
often than not) raw. Their flesh has a strong flavour of train oil;
that of the latter is almost black, the liver a beautiful violet. Both
creatures have the extraordinary habit of occasionally swallowing
stones. The seal is from three to six feet long, perfectly harmless
and defenceless. It is cautious and suspicious and will dive for the
slightest cause. Indeed, its apish face, with its peculiar expression
of curiosity, is in and out of the water every minute.
Seals, too, live in herds. Seal-hunters often find hundreds on one
ice-floe. Whilst they sleep or sun themselves they set a watch, which
being killed, the whole herd may often be taken. A seal hunt is carried
on in different ways; the most successful is with clubs. Their skull
is very weak. Our bullets had the effect of blowing them to pieces.
The most fruitful ground for seal-hunting is the neighbourhood of
Newfoundland and the lonely island of Jan Mayen, lying within the
Arctic Circle. In southern latitudes they rarely appear. When dead they
sink very quickly.
To the Esquimaux, the seal and walrus are of universal utility. They
cut straps out of their skin, make dresses, finish their boats, cover
the floors and walls of their snow-huts; their bones they use for the
repair of their sledges and weapons, their fat as fuel, and their flesh
for food: in a word, where Esquimaux exist, seal and walrus are eaten.
The European hare is remarkable for its long and rapid hasty flight,
and its timidity. The Greenland hare (_Lepus glacialis_), on the
contrary, sits as if nailed down in its rocky refuge, however near the
hunter may pass to him. Sometimes one sees the mountain slopes dotted
with white spots, which from their motionlessness might be taken for
snow; but they are only white hares. They are about the size of our
own hares; but their flesh, like that of the Alpine hare, is insipid.
Hare-hunting in Greenland often gives rise to the drollest scenes.
Their hearing appears to be even weaker than their sight. Payer once
stood near a hare, which was startled by repeated firing, but had
confined its flight to a few steps. The creature was nibbling the
moss quietly. Payer took out his sketch-book, and drew it in all the
different positions which, in its uneasiness at the conversation and
laughter of his companions, it assumed.
The peculiar species of wolf met with in other Arctic neighbourhoods is
not found in East Greenland; neither is the wolf-like dog, now dying
out from disease, and upon which the existence of the Esquimaux in East
Greenland is completely dependent.
Brown, in his Fauna of Greenland, believes that the dogs brought by
Torell from Greenland to Spitzbergen in 1861, to work the sledges (a
plan frustrated by the sea being found open), would increase rapidly,
and return to the original wolf-type.
They are also unknown in the north of Europe, and like the ice-bear,
fox, and reindeer, are peculiar to the Arctic Circle.
The remaining Fauna of this country--lemmings, butterflies, a species
of bee, spiders, and gnats (the latter at certain times of the year,
and in particular neighbourhoods, being a perfect plague), all possess
a high zoological interest; but they lie beyond the descriptive limits
of a Greenland hunt.
Interesting, too, is the more or less periodical return of a large
number of birds which animate the Arctic world; some for only the
summer weeks, and some for the whole year, such as ptarmigan and ravens
(both of which remain through the winter); a number of screaming
birds--most of which are species of gulls distinguished by their
greediness--such as the auks, the divers, and above all, the eider
ducks. These cling like so many white spots to the clefted rock,
screaming to each other or sitting in a circle on the edge of a floe.
A short early ice-covering of the coast water, indicating the close of
a fleeting summer, has many embarrassments for them: and soon the far
greater part accept the signal for emigration to southern regions.
The west coast of Greenland is much richer in birds than the east
coast. Our share was therefore proportionately small. The flesh of
Arctic birds has, doubtless owing to the nature of their food, a strong
taste of train-oil.
The Arctic Sea is inhabited, besides small fish, by numberless
creatures of lower development (_Crustacea_, &c.), which serve
for food to the gigantic inhabitants of the same element, such as the
Greenland whale, the fin-backed whale, and the narwhal.