The Badminton Library
OF
SPORTS AND PASTIMES
EDITED BY
HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF BEAUFORT, K.G.
ASSISTED BY ALFRED E. T. WATSON
_BIG GAME SHOOTING_
II.
[Illustration: HAND TO HAND WORK]
BIG GAME SHOOTING
BY
CLIVE PHILLIPPS-WOLLEY
WITH CONTRIBUTIONS BY
LIEUT.-COLONEL R. HEBER PERCY, ARNOLD PIKE,
MAJOR ALGERNON C. HEBER PERCY, W. A. BAILLIE-GROHMAN,
SIR HENRY POTTINGER, BART., EARL OF KILMOREY, ABEL CHAPMAN,
WALTER J. BUCK, AND ST. GEORGE LITTLEDALE
[Illustration]
VOL. II.
_WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY CHARLES WHYMPER
AND FROM PHOTOGRAPHS_
LONDON
LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.
1894
CONTENTS OF THE SECOND VOLUME
CHAPTER PAGE
I. ARCTIC HUNTING
_By Arnold Pike._ 1
II. THE CAUCASUS
_By Clive Phillipps-Wolley._ 22
III. MOUNTAIN GAME OF THE CAUCASUS
_By Clive Phillipps-Wolley._ 48
IV. CAUCASIAN AUROCHS
_By St. G. Littledale._ 65
V. OVIS ARGALI OF MONGOLIA
_By St. G. Littledale._ 73
VI. THE CHAMOIS
_By W. A. Baillie-Grohman._ 77
VII. THE STAG OF THE ALPS
_By W. A. Baillie-Grohman._ 112
VIII. THE SCANDINAVIAN ELK
_By Sir Henry Potlinger, Bart._ 123
IX. EUROPEAN BIG GAME
_By Major Algernon Heber Percy, and the Earl of Kilmorey._ 154
X. THE LARGE GAME OF SPAIN AND PORTUGAL
_By Abel Chapman and W. J. Buck._ 174
XI. INDIAN SHOOTING
_By Lieut.-Col. Reginald Heber Percy._ 182
XII. THE OVIS POLI OF THE PAMIR
_By St. G. Littledale._ 363
XIII. CAMPS, TRANSPORT, ETC.
_By Clive Phillipps-Wolley._ 377
XIV. A FEW NOTES ON RIFLES AND AMMUNITION
_By H. W. H._ 394
XV. HINTS ON TAXIDERMY, ETC.
_By Clive Phillipps-Wolley._ 413
A SHORT BIBLIOGRAPHY 421
INDEX 425
ILLUSTRATIONS IN THE SECOND VOLUME
(_Reproduced by Messrs. Walker & Boutall_)
FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS
ARTIST
HAND TO HAND WORK _C. Whymper_ _Frontispiece_
DEATH OF A POLAR BEAR ” _to face p._ 16
THE CORPSE ROCKS _C. Whymper_ ” 20
MR. ST. G. LITTLEDALE’S CAUCASIAN } _From a photograph_ ” 36
BAG FOR THE SEASON OF 1887 }
‘STANDING LIKE STATUES’ _C. Whymper_ ” 48
IBEX (_Hircus ægagrus_) ” ” 52
THE SPECTRE ” ” 62
CHAMOIS {_From an instantaneous_} ” 80
{_photograph_ }
SPANISH IBEX {_C. W., after a sketch_} ” 180
{ _by A. Chapman_ }
THE FIRST STALK OF THE SEASON ” ” 184
A FAIR CHANCE AT BLACK BEARS _C. Whymper_ ” 186
‘THE FRONT RANK AND PART OF THE } ” ” 208
SECOND ALONE STOOD FIRM’ }
A CHARGING GAUR ” 242
A SNAP-SHOT IN THE FOREST _Major H. Jones_ ” 278
‘WITH CARTRIDGES HANDY AND STEADY } ” 322
SHOOTING’ }
MR. ST. GEORGE LITTLEDALE’S BAG OF } _From a photograph_ ” 374
OVIS POLI, 1888 }
THE CAMP _C. Whymper_ ” 378
WOODCUTS IN TEXT.
ARTIST
AMONG THE ICE _C. Whymper_ 1
A WALRUS’ HEAD { _From a photograph_ } 5
{ _after Mr. Lamont_ }
WHERE TO SHOOT A WALRUS 7
WAITING FOR THE DAWN _C. Whymper_ 27
THE BOAR’S CHARGE 33
A GUTTUROSA 45
DEAD AUROCHS {_After a photograph_} 65
{_from Nature_ }
THE SPY CHAMOIS 79
EMPEROR MAXIMILIAN I. CHAMOIS } _After Theuerdank_ 110
HUNTING, A.D. 1500 }
ANTLERS OF STAGS KILLED AT RADAUC, }
IN THE PILIS MOUNTAINS AND THE } 115
JOLSVA ESTATES }
SPECIMEN HEADS OF SCANDINAVIAN ELKS _From a photograph_ 129
STALKING ELK _C. Whymper_ 152
‘THIS TIME HIS SIDE WAS TOWARDS ME’ ” 158
GROUP OF AUROCHS ” 168
AUROCHS’ HEADS {_C. W., from a_} 171
{_photograph_ }
THE LYNX (_Felis pardina_) _C. Whymper_ 174
SNOW-BEARS _Major H. Jones_ 187
A GLORIFIED COMET {_C. W., after sketches_} 189
{_by Capt. Rawlinson_ }
HOWDAH SHOOTING 196
LANDING A GHAYAL 239
‘HE GAVE HIM A TREMENDOUS PUNISHING’ 255
HOGDEER SHOOTING 262
RUCERVUS DUVAUCELLI _From a photograph_ 266
RUCERVUS SCHOMBURGKII 267
PANOLIA ELDII 269
A STALK IN THE OPEN {_C.W., after Major_} 281
{_H. Jones_ }
SPECIMEN HEADS OF OVIS POLI AND } _From photographs_ 292
OVIS KARELINI }
SPECIMEN HEADS OF OVIS AMMON AND } 293
OVIS NIVICOLA }
THE ASTOR MARKHOR {_C. W., after sketch_} 310
{_by Capt. Rawlinson_ }
VARIETIES OF MARKHOR _From photograph_ 312
IN HIS SUMMER COAT _C. Whymper_ 318
SPECIMEN HEADS OF CAPRA SIBIRICA, } _From photograph_ 322
CAPRA ÆGAGRUS, AND CAPRA SINAITICA}
A DREAM OF THER SHOOTING {_C. W., after sketch_} 326
{_by Capt. Rawlinson_ }
THE SEROW GALLOPS DOWN HILL _C. Whymper_ 333
BUDORCAS TAXICOLOR _From photograph_ 335
SAIGA TARTARICA 345
TAME DECOYS _C. Whymper_ 351
OVIS POLI ” 363
OUR CAMP 367
DEAD OVIS POLI 376
CINCH HIM UP 381
KNIFE FASTENING 388
‘GOOD-BYE TO THE GROCERIES’ 391
SPECIMENS OF 340, 360, 440, AND } _From a photograph._ 395
460 GRAIN EXPRESS BULLETS }
SPECIMENS OF .500 AND .577 BORE EXPRESS BULLETS 396
SPECIMENS OF .450 AND .577 BORE EXPRESS BULLETS 397
SPECIMENS OF SOFT .577 BULLETS 398
SPECIMENS OF 12-BORE ‘PARADOX’ BULLETS 400
DIAGRAM SHOWING SIX SHOTS WITH 10 BORE }
AND 8-BORE ‘PARADOX’ } 400
DIAGRAM OF 8-BORE ‘PARADOX’ BULLET 401
SIR SAMUEL BAKER’S STRENGTHENED STOCK 406
RIFLE LOOPS 407
‘SHIKARI’ RIFLE CASE 408
BACK SIGHTS 408
WHEN THE LIGHT WANES _C. Whymper._ 414
WAPITI HEAD 419
BIG GAME SHOOTING
CHAPTER I
ARCTIC HUNTING
BY ARNOLD PIKE
[Illustration: Among the ice]
Arctic hunting embraces an enormous field, the extent of which is not
yet realised, and I should begin by remarking that my experience, as
here set forth, is limited to the seas around Spitzbergen, and that I
propose to confine myself to the pursuit of the walrus and the polar
bear.
Although the vast herds of walrus which formerly inhabited the
Spitzbergen and Novaya Zemlya seas have been sadly thinned by
persistent--and often wasteful--hunting, first by the English and Dutch
in the early part of the seventeenth century, then by the Russians,
and at the present day by the Norwegians, yet enough may still be
killed in a season’s hunting to satisfy most sportsmen. The fact that
the expeditions after walrus and polar bear which are made to these
waters are often partially, or wholly, unsuccessful is due not to the
scarcity of game but to the manner in which it is sought. The sportsman
usually sails in a yacht--a vessel totally unfit for the work before
her--and at Tromsö or Hammerfest picks up an ice pilot, who is also
supposed to show where sport is to be obtained, at a season of the year
when all the best men are engaged to, or have already sailed with, the
professional walrus hunters. The consequences are that the voyage is
confined to the open, and therefore easily navigated, waters of the
western coast of Spitzbergen, or else that if good hunting grounds are
visited much of the game is not seen; for no matter how keen a look-out
a man may keep, he is sure to pass over game if he is not used to
hunting, and does not know exactly what to look for and where to look
for it.
The best way, therefore, in the writer’s opinion, is for the sportsman
to hire one of the small vessels engaged in the trade, sailing either
from Hammerfest or Tromsö (preferably from the latter port). He
could hire a walrus sloop of about forty tons burden for the season,
completely fitted out with all the necessary gear and boats, and a
crew of nine men (seven before the mast) for about 450l. This amount
would cover everything except tinned soups, meat, &c., for his own
consumption; and the expenditure is not all dead loss, for if he allows
one boat’s crew to regularly hunt seal, whilst he devotes himself
principally to bear and walrus, he will probably realise a sum by the
sale of skins and blubber, at the conclusion of the voyage, which will
meet the greater portion, if not the whole, of the amount paid for the
hire of the vessel. There is no difficulty in disposing of the ‘catch.’
If, however, a sportsman decides to go in his own yacht, with an
English crew, he should engage during the winter, through the British
vice-consul at Tromsö, a good harpooner and three men used to arctic
work, and buy a hunting boat (fangstbaad), to the use of which they
are accustomed, together with the necessary harpoons, lines, lances,
knives, &c.
In either case he should sail from Tromsö early in May if bound for
Spitzbergen, where he would in ordinary seasons be able to hunt until
the middle of September. In that time, with fair luck, he may expect
to kill from five to ten bears, about twenty walrus, thirty reindeer,
and from three to four hundred seals. If only small attention is
paid to the seals, the number of walrus and bear obtained should be
considerably larger.
No especial personal outfit is necessary.
As most of the shooting will be done from a boat that is seldom
stationary, the rifle to which the sportsman is most accustomed is
the best. A .450 Express, with solid hardened bullet for walrus,
and ‘small-holed’ for bear, is a very good weapon. A fowling-piece
for geese and a small-bore rifle for practice at seals would also
be useful. Whatever weapons are taken, they should be of simple
construction and strongly made, for they are liable to receive hard
knocks in the rough, wet work incidental to walrus hunting.
As regards clothing, a light-coloured stalking suit (the writer prefers
grey), underclothing of the same weight as the sportsman is accustomed
to wear during an English winter, and knee-boots, will answer every
purpose. For hand covering the mittens (‘vanter’) used by the Norwegian
fishermen are most suitable. The sportsman had better lay in his stock
of canned provisions and tea in England, but coffee, sugar, &c., can
be obtained of good quality and equally cheap at his starting point in
Norway.
I. WALRUS (_Rosmarus trichechus_)
The walrus is one of the largest animals still extant, and although the
element of personal danger is not as great in hunting it as in hunting
some beasts of lesser bulk, yet the conditions under which the sport is
pursued, as well as the nature of the sport itself, are such as will
probably tempt one who has once tried this form of sport to return to
it.
An average-sized four-year-old bull walrus will measure 10 ft. in
length and about the same in girth. The weight is, of course, difficult
to determine, but it is probably about 3,000 lbs., of which 350 lbs.
may be reckoned as blubber, and 300 lbs. as hide. A large old bull
will probably weigh and yield half as much again. The blubber, to be
utilised, is mixed with that of the seals which may be obtained, and
the oil which is extracted by heat and pressure sold as ‘seal oil’; the
hide, which is from 1 in. to 1½ in. in thickness, and makes a soft,
spongy leather, is exported principally to Russia and Germany, where it
is used for harness, ammunition-boots, &c.
[Illustration: A walrus’ head]
The walrus is a carnivorous animal, feeding mostly upon shellfish and
worms, and is therefore generally found in the shallow waters along a
coastline, diving for its food on banks which lie at a depth of from
two to twenty fathoms below the surface. Deeper than that the walrus
does not care to go; in fact, it generally feeds in about fifteen
fathoms. The tusks are principally used to plough up the bottom in
search of food, but are also employed as weapons, and in climbing on
to ice. They are composed of hard, white ivory, set for about 6 ins.
of their length in a hard bony mass, about 6 ins. in diameter, which
forms the front part of the head; the breathing passage runs through
this mass, and terminates in two ‘blow-holes’ between the roots of
the tusks. The tusk itself is solid, except that portion which is
embedded in the bone, and this is filled with a cellular structure
containing a whitish oil. Both sexes have tusks, but those of the cow
do not run quite so large as those of the bull. The yearling calf has
no tusks, but at the end of the second year it has a pair about 2 ins.
in length, which grow to about 6 ins. in the third year. The largest
pair I have measure 18½ ins. round the curve of the tusk from skull
to point, and girth 7½ ins. near the base; but I have seen them much
larger, and do not think that anything under 22 ins. can be considered
a good head. Cows’ tusks are generally set much closer together than
bulls’, and sometimes meet at the points. There are some good specimens
illustrating this peculiarity in the Tromsö Museum. The bulls’, on the
contrary, generally diverge, and are often upwards of a foot apart at
the points. I have read and heard that in rare cases the tusks diverge
in curves, but have never seen any. I have one head (I was not in the
boat when the walrus was killed) with three tusks, two of which spring
apparently from the same socket, and there is no doubt that there
are heads with four; but such cases are, of course, very rare. The
comparatively small size of the tusks makes the ivory useless for the
manufacture of billiard balls and other things of considerable size,
and it does not, therefore, command so high a price as elephant ivory,
but it is largely used in the manufacture of small articles.
A walrus killed in the water immediately sinks; even if mortally
wounded, it will in nine cases out of ten escape, and sink to the
bottom. When on the ice, walrus always lie close to the water, and
it is therefore necessary to kill them instantly, or they will reach
the water and be lost before the boat can arrive within harpooning
distance. This can only be done by penetrating the brain, which is no
easy matter. The brain lies in what appears to be the neck; that which
one would naturally suppose to be the head being nothing but the heavy
jaw bones, and mass of bone in which the tusks are set. In reference
to this point, I cannot do better than quote Mr. Lamont, who on this
and everything else connected with walrus hunting is a most accurate
authority. It is with the kind permission of his publishers, Messrs.
Chatto and Windus, that I reproduce his plate ‘How to shoot a Walrus.’
In his ‘Yachting in the Arctic Seas,’ page 69, he says:--
No one who has not tried it will readily believe how extremely
difficult it is to shoot an old bull walrus clean dead. The
front or sides of his head may be knocked all to pieces with
bullets, and the animal yet have sufficient strength and sense
left to enable him to swim and dive out of reach. If he is lying
on his side, with his back turned to his assailant (as in the
upper figure), it is easy enough, as the brain is then quite
exposed, and the crown of the head is easily penetrated; but one
rarely gets the walrus in that position, and when it so happens
it is generally better policy to harpoon him without shooting.
By firing at an old bull directly facing you, it is almost
impossible to kill him, but if half front to you, a shot just
above the eye may prove fatal. If sideways, he can only be killed
by aiming about six inches behind the eye, and about one-fourth
of the apparent depth of his head from the top; but the eye, of
course, cannot be seen unless the animal is very close to you,
and the difficulty is enormously increased by the back of the
head being so imbedded in fat as to appear as if it were part of
the neck. This will be understood by a reference to the plate. If
you hit him much below that spot, you strike the jaw-joint, which
is about the strongest part of the whole cranium. A leaden bullet
striking there, or on the front of the head, is flattened like
a piece of putty, without doing much injury to the walrus; and
even hardened bullets, propelled by six drachms of powder, were
sometimes broken into little pieces against the rocky crania of
these animals.
[Illustration: Where to shoot a walrus]
What becomes of the walrus in the winter it is hard to say, but I
have heard them blowing in an open pool of water among the ice on the
north coast of Spitzbergen in the month of December. In the spring,
however, when the ice begins to break up, they collect in herds on
their feeding grounds around the coasts, where they may be found
diving for shellfish, or basking and sleeping, singly or in ‘heaps’
of two or three (often five or six) together. They seem to prefer to
lie on small cakes of flat bay ice; a single walrus will often take
his siesta on a cake only just large enough to float him, and it is
among such ice therefore, rather than among rough old pack and glacier
blocks, that they should be sought, although I have seen them lying on
heavy old water-worn ice, four and five feet above the water. In this
case, however, they had no choice. Later in the year, in August and
during the autumn, particularly in open years, they collect in some
bay (formerly they were found in herds thousands strong), and lie in
a lethargic state on the shore. I suppose that this is their breeding
season, as the young are cast in April and May, and even in June. In
former years, the walrus hunters, if they had experienced a bad season,
would hang around the coasts as long as they dared, visiting the
various places which were known to be favourite spots for the walrus to
‘go ashore,’ and if they found one occupied, a few hours’ work would
compensate them for the bad luck of the whole season.
Massing their forces--if, as customary, several sloops were sailing in
company--the hunters attacked the walrus with the lance, and, killing
those nearest the water first, formed a rampart behind which the rest
of the herd were more or less at their mercy, which quality indeed they
did not appear to possess; for, fired by excitement and greed, they
would slay and slay, until there were far more of the poor beasts lying
dead than they could ever hope to make use of. The remnant of the herd
would escape, never to return; they would seek each year some spot
further towards the north, and therefore more difficult of access to
their enemies. Although, doubtless, the walrus still go ashore late in
the autumn, they probably choose some of the islands in the Hinlopen
Straits, or the coasts of North East Land and Franz Joseph Land, where
the hunters cannot approach them, or would not dare to if they could,
at that season of the year; and thus it is rare to hear of a herd
being found ashore at the present day. This opportunity of having an
inaccessible breeding ground will save the walrus from the fate which
has overtaken the American bison, of being almost wiped from the face
of the earth; and the species will therefore probably continue to exist
in large numbers in the far north, after its scarcity in the more
accessible waters has caused the professional walrus hunter to abandon
his calling. The most likely localities for walrus around Spitzbergen
at present are the coast of North East Land, Cape Leigh Smith (Storö),
Rekis-öerne, Hopenöerne on the east coast, and the Hinlopen Straits.
Although the staple food of the walrus consists of mollusca, it also
preys, to some extent, upon the seal. I remember that, on opening the
stomach of the first walrus I shot, we found it full of long strips
of the skin of a seal, apparently _Phoca hispida_, with the blubber
still attached.[1] As the death of this walrus was fairly typical of
the manner in which they are now captured, I will try to describe it;
but it would be better perhaps to first sketch the boats and implements
which are used in walrus hunting.
The boats, called ‘fangstbaade,’ are strongly, yet lightly, built
of three-quarter-inch Norwegian ‘furru.’ They are carvel built and
bow shaped at both ends; the stem and stern posts are made thick and
strong in order to resist the blows of the ice, and the bow sheathed
with zinc plates to prevent excessive chafing. They are most commonly
20 ft. or 21 ft. in length, and have their greatest beam, viz. 5 ft.,
one-third of their length from the bow. It is most important that they
should be easy and quick in turning, and this quality is obtained by
depressing the keel in the middle. They are painted red inside and
white outside, so that they may not be conspicuous amongst ice, but the
hunters stultify this idea to some extent by dressing themselves in
dark colours. Inside the bow there are small racks guarded by painted
canvas flaps, in which the harpoon-heads are fitted, usually three on
either side of the boat. The harpoon, the point and edges of which are
ground and whetted to a razor-like sharpness, is a simple but very
effective weapon. When thrust into a walrus or seal, a large outer barb
‘takes up’ a loop of the tough hide, whilst a small inner fish-hook
barb prevents it from becoming disengaged, so that when once properly
harpooned, it is very seldom, if ever, that an animal escapes through
the harpoon ‘drawing.’ The harpoon-shafts, which lie along the thwarts,
are made of white pine poles, 12 ft. in length and from 1 in. to 1½ in.
in diameter, tapered at one end to fit the socket of the harpoon-head,
in which the shaft is set fast when required by striking its butt
against one of the ribs of the boat, or a small block fixed in the
after end on the starboard side. The harpoon is used almost entirely
as a thrusting weapon, but a _good_ man can set one fast by _casting_
if the occasion demands it, up to a distance of 20 ft. The harpoon
line, which is ‘grummeted’ round the shank of the head, consists of
sixteen fathoms of two-inch tarred rope, very carefully made of the
finest hemp, ‘soft laid’; each line is neatly coiled in a separate
box placed beneath the forward thwart. When a walrus is ‘fast,’ it is
most important that the line should not slip aft--if allowed to do so
it would probably capsize the boat--and to help to prevent this, deep
retaining notches are cut in two pieces of hardwood fixed one on each
side of the stempost, the top of which is also channelled.
The lance also lies along the thwarts, its broad blade contained in a
box fixed at the starboard end of the forward thwart. The head weighs
about 3½ lbs., and the white pine shafts 5 lbs. to 7 lbs., according
to length. It is generally about 6 ft. and tapered from 2½ ins. at the
socket to 1½ in. at the handle. The head is riveted to the shaft; two
projecting ears run some way up, and are bound to it by a piece of
stout hoop iron, for additional security.
Along the thwarts also lie a mast and sail, and several ‘hakkepiks,’ a
form of boathook, most useful for ice work. Another box, fastened to
the starboard gunwale, holds a telescope. In the bottom of the boat are
twenty-four fathoms of rope, two double-purchase blocks, and an ice
anchor; in addition to its ordinary use, this anchor is employed as a
fulcrum by which, with the aid of the blocks and rope, a boat’s crew
can haul a dead walrus out of the water on to a suitable piece of ice,
to be flensed.
The fore and after peaks are provided with lockers, which should
contain a hammer, pair of pliers, nails, and some sheet lead--for
patching holes which a walrus may make with his tusks--matches, spare
grummets, cartridges, &c., and a small kettle--a small spirit lamp
would also be useful--together with coffee and hard bread sufficient
for two or three days. An axe and one or two rifles, which lean against
the edge of the forward locker, in notches cut to take the barrels,
skinning knives, a whetstone, and a compass, which should be in a box
fitted under the after thwart, and one or two spare oars complete the
list of articles, without which a ‘fangstbaad’ should never touch the
water. Nevertheless, it is usual to find that two most important items,
viz. food and a compass, are missing. This is surprising, for in this
region of ice and fog no one knows better than the walrus hunter when
he quits his vessel’s side how uncertain is the length of time which
must elapse before he can climb on board again, even though he may
merely, as he thinks, be going to ‘pick up’ a seal, lying on an ice
cake a few hundred yards away.
A boat’s crew consists of four or five men, and the quickness with
which they can turn their boat is greatly accelerated by their method
of rowing and steering. Each man rows with a pair of oars, which he
can handle much better than one long one when amongst ice. The oars
are hung in grummets to stout single thole-pins, so that when dropped
they swing alongside, out of the way, yet ready for instant action. The
steersman, called the ‘hammelmand,’ sits facing the bow, and guides the
boat by rowing with a pair of short oars. I think this is preferable
to steering either with a rudder or with a single long oar, as the
whalers do, as it not only enables a crew to turn their boat almost on
her own centre, but economises nearly the whole strength of one man. As
there are six thwarts in the boat the ‘hammelmand’ can, if necessary,
instantly change his position, and row like the others.
The harpooner, who commands the boat’s crew, rows from the bow thwart,
near the weapons and telescope, which he alone uses. It is he who
searches for game, and decides on the method of attack when it is
found. ‘No. 2,’ generally the strongest man in the boat, is called the
‘line man’; it is his duty to tend the line when a walrus is struck and
to assist the harpooner, while ‘stroke’ and the ‘hammelmand’ hang back
on their oars, to prevent the boat from ‘overrunning’ the walrus.
In such a boat, then, one lovely September morning, we are rowing
easily back to the sloop, which is lying off Bird Bay, a small
indentation in the east face of the northernmost point of Spitzbergen.
The skin of an old he-bear, half covering the bottom of the boat,
proves that we have already earned our breakfasts, but no one is in a
hurry. The burnished surface of the sea is unmarked by a ripple save
where broken by the lazy dip of the oars. Northwards, beyond the bold
contour of North Cape, the rugged outlines of the Seven Islands stand
out sharply against the blue sky; behind us the hills of the mainland,
dazzling in their covering of new snow, stretch away to the south.
Bird Bay and Lady Franklin’s Bay are full of fast ice, which must have
lain there all the summer, but the blazing sun makes it difficult to
see where ice ends and water begins. Around us and to the east the sea
is fairly open, except for the flat cakes of ice broken off from the
fast ice, and several old sea-worn lumps, which, from their delicate
blue colour (sea ice is white), we know have fallen from the glaciers
of the east coast, or, perhaps, have travelled from some land, out
there beyond Seven Islands, which no man has yet seen. The harpooner
is balancing himself, one foot on the forward locker and one on the
thwart, examining through a telescope something which appears to be a
lump of dirty ice, about half a mile away. Suddenly he closes his glass
and seizes the oars. ‘Hvalros,’ he says, and without another word the
‘hammelmand’ heads the boat for the black mass which, as we rapidly
approach (for no one is lazily inclined now), the mirage magnifies into
the size of a small house. Now we are within a couple of hundred yards,
and each man crouches in the bottom of the boat, the harpooner still
in the bow, his eyes level with the combing, intently fixed upon the
walrus. The ‘hammelmand’ alone is partly erect on his seat, only his
arms moving, as he guides us from behind one lump to another. Suddenly
the walrus raises his head, and we are motionless. It is intensely
still, and the scraping of a piece of ice along the boat seems like
the roar of a railway train passing overhead on some bridge. Down goes
the head, and we glide forward again. The walrus is uneasy; again and
again he raises his head and looks around with a quick motion, but we
have the sun right at our back and he never notices us. At last we are
within a few feet, and with a shout of ‘Vœk op, gamling!’ (‘Wake up,
old boy!’), which breaks the stillness like a shot, the harpooner is
on his feet, his weapon clasped in both hands above his head. As the
walrus plunges into the sea, the iron is buried in his side, and with a
quick twist to prevent the head from slipping out of the same slit that
it has cut in the thick hide, the handle is withdrawn and thrown into
the boat. No. 2, who, with a turn round the forward thwart, has been
paying out the line, now checks it, as stroke and the ‘hammelmand,’
facing forward, hang back on their oars to check the rush. Bumping and
scraping amongst the ice, we are towed along for about five minutes,
and then stop as the walrus comes to the surface to breathe. In the
old days the lance would finish the business, but now it is the rifle.
He is facing the boat, I sight for one of his eyes, and let him have
both barrels, without much effect apparently, for away we rush for two
or three minutes more, when he is up again, still facing the boat. He
seems to care no more for the solid Express bullets (I am using a .450
Holland & Holland Express) than if they were peas; but he is slow this
time, and, as he turns to dive, exposes the fatal spot at the back of
the head, and dies.
It does not take us long to fix the ice anchor in a suitable cake, and
with the blocks and rope we drag him head-first on to the ice, and skin
him. On examining his head, I find that the whole of the front part has
been broken into small pieces by the first four shots, one tusk blown
clean away, and the other broken. So much for shooting a walrus in the
face!
Of course, the walrus does not always allow the boat to approach within
harpooning distance. If it is very uneasy (which it is more likely to
be in calm weather than when there is a slight breeze blowing), the
beast will begin to move when the boat is, say, fifty yards distant.
Then is the time for a steady wrist and a clear eye, for the creature
must be shot, and shot dead, or, no matter how badly it is wounded, it
will reach the water, and, dying there, sink like a stone to the bottom.
Although the walrus does not often show fight, it is not, on the whole,
a rare thing for him to do so. The harpooners say that three-year-old
bulls are the most liable to attack a boat, especially if it is allowed
to overrun them when fast to a harpoon line. The following incident
illustrates this.
One sunny night, towards the end of May, we were running for Black
Point, Spitzbergen, as the skipper did not like the look of a heavy
black bank of clouds which a freshening breeze was blowing up out
of the south-west. Suddenly, as we were threading our way through
some heavy old ice, we found that we were among the walrus, and we
determined to lie aback for a few hours and take some. They were
lying about in twos and threes on the ice lumps, and in a good mood
to be stalked, so that we soon had the skins of three young bulls in
the bottom of the boat; but the fourth, a three-year-old bull, gave
trouble. He did not like the look of the boat, and a rather long shot
only wounded him. After diving off the ice he rose quite close to the
boat, and when the harpooner gave him the weapon, instead of making
off he immediately charged. It was hand-to-hand work then: lance and
axe, hakkepik and oar, thrust and slashed, struck and shoved, while
the white tusks gleamed again and again through the upper streaks of
the boat; for a walrus can strike downwards, upwards, and sideways,
with much greater quickness than one would imagine possible. After a
while he drew off, and, slipping a cartridge into the Express (which I
had emptied as soon as the struggle began), I put a bullet through his
brain, and he hung dead on the line. We were lucky to escape with no
more damage than a few holes in the boat and a couple of broken oars.
There were many walrus around us, both on the ice and in the water, but
the breeze had freshened into a gale, and snow began to fall heavily,
so that we were glad to get on board again and run for shelter into
Kraus Haven, a little inlet in the mossy plain which stretches from the
foot of Black Point to the sea.
Few men are likely ever to forget the first occasion on which they
found themselves amongst a herd of walrus in the water. Scores of
fierce-looking heads--for the long tusks, small bloodshot eyes, and
moustache on the upper lip (every bristle of which is as thick as a
crow quill) give the walrus an expression of ferocity--gaze, perhaps
in unbroken silence, from all sides upon the boat. See! the sun glints
along a hundred wet backs, and they are gone. Away you row at racing
speed to where experience tells you they will rise again. ‘Here they
are! Take that old one with the long tusks first!’ A couple of quick
thrusts, right and left, and away you go again, fast to two old bulls
that will want a lot of attention before you can cut their tusks out.
Indeed, unless one has served his apprenticeship, he had better not
meddle with the harpoon at all. The old skippers and harpooners can
spin many a yarn of lost crews and boats gone under the ice through a
fatal moment’s delay in cutting free from the diving walrus.
II. THE POLAR BEAR (_Ursus maritimus_)
As a ‘sporting’ animal the polar bear is, to the writer’s mind,
somewhat overrated; the walrus affording more exciting, and in every
sense better, sport than does the bear.
[Illustration: DEATH OF A POLAR BEAR]
Although the history of Arctic exploration and adventure contains
accounts of many a death laid to its charge, yet the ‘polar’ makes
but a poor fight against the accurately sighted breechloaders of
to-day, and it is very rarely that one hears of the loss of a man
in an actual encounter with a bear. And this for several reasons.
Unlike the grizzly, the polar has generally to fight his man at a
disadvantage. Seen first at a long distance, he commonly requires but
little stalking. A boat full of men creeps along the ice edge until
within shooting distance, and if when merely wounded the bear has the
pluck to charge, he has not the opportunity, for his enemies are on the
water, and once he leaves the ice he is completely at their mercy--no
match for a man who can handle even a lance or an axe moderately well.
Should a man happen to encounter a polar on land or ice, however,
the brute’s great size and marvellous vitality naturally make him
a somewhat formidable foe, especially as the soles of his feet are
covered with close-set hairs, which enable him to go on slippery ice
as securely as upon _terra firma_. This characteristic of having the
sole of the foot covered with hair is peculiar to _Ursus maritimus_.
But even when encountered on ice, nine bears out of ten will not fight,
even when they have the chance, unless badly ‘cornered.’ As a rule,
_Ursus maritimus_ is purely carnivorous, preying mostly on seals,
which bask on the ice with their heads always very close to, if not
actually over, the water, a habit of which the bear takes advantage in
approaching to within striking distance, by dropping into the water
some way to leeward and swimming noiselessly along the ice edge. Even
if the seal perceives the white head, the only visible portion of the
swimming bear, it probably takes it for a drifting splinter of ice,
and pays no more attention to it, until a blow from the heavy forepaw
of the bear ends sleep and life together. I am told that the bear
manages to secure seals lying at their holes on large flat expanses
of ‘fast’ or bay ice, but imagine that such cases are rare, as anyone
who has tried to stalk a seal basking at its hole knows how extremely
difficult, if not impossible, it is to approach within rifle-shot
of it. I once, however, killed a large blue seal at the fast ice edge,
along whose back, from ‘stem to stern,’ were five parallel gashes,
freshly cut through hide and blubber, marking the passage of Bruin’s
paw as the seal had slipped beneath it into the water. The walrus is
also attacked, of course on the ice only; for in the water both walrus
and seal can sport around their enemy with impunity; indeed, if the
professional hunters are to be believed, the former sometimes turns the
tables, and under these circumstances it is often the bear which comes
off second best in the encounter.
Although carnivorous, the polar also appears to be able to exist on a
vegetable diet, like other bears. Nordenskjöld observed one browsing
on grass on the northern coast of Siberia (he remarks that it was
probably an old bear whose tusks were much worn), and it is on record
(‘Encyclopædia Britannica,’ ninth edition) that one was fed on bread
only for some years. From its manner of life this bear is naturally
almost amphibious, ‘taking’ the water as a matter of course, and, no
doubt, frequently making long journeys by sea to regain its habitat,
from which it has been carried on some drifting ice-lump. Captain
Sabine found one ‘swimming powerfully, forty miles from the nearest
shore, and with no ice in sight to afford it rest.’ No beast on the
earth leads a harder life than the polar bear. Relying solely on the
chase for its support, it roams continually amongst the ice. Even
during the winter it does not retire from the battle of life, like its
less hardy congeners, but wanders on through the storm and lasting
darkness, for this species does not as a rule hibernate. It is alleged
elsewhere that the female differs in this respect from the male,
hibernating whilst he remains out, and the fact that all the bears
(between sixty and seventy) killed in the winter months during the
Austrian expedition under MM. Weyprecht and Payer were males, supports
this statement; but, on the other hand, the only bears, two in number,
which we killed in midwinter (on December 11 and 19, 1888), while
wintering on Danes Island (north coast of Spitzbergen), were both
females, accompanied on each occasion by a cub. I think it possible,
therefore, that it is only the females which are about to cast their
young in the spring that lie dormant during the winter. Why the rest
are roaming in the darkness, or what they find to eat in that land of
death, I cannot tell; for the seals do not lie on the ice in the dark
time (at that season of the year we could not distinguish day from
night), and, as has been said, the bear is no match for the seal in the
water.
Even if the records of gigantic grizzlies--brutes weighing 2,000 lbs.
and upwards--are trustworthy, the polar must yet be allowed to be,
upon the average, the largest of his tribe. Most Londoners know the
old beast in the Zoological Gardens in Regent’s Park (presented by Mr.
Leigh Smith), which is a good type of a big male; and it is not too
much to say that a large full-grown male bear of this species will
measure from 8 ft. to 8 ft. 6 ins. from snout to tail, and weigh,
probably, 1,500 lbs. The largest I have myself killed measured 8 ft.
(Norwegian measurement) in length _in the flesh_, but I have seen a
skin, now in the possession of Mrs. Dunsmuir, of Victoria, British
Columbia, which measures 9 ft. 10 in. from the snout to root of tail.
This must have belonged to an enormous bear.
The reasons why some of the expeditions after polar bear are
unsuccessful have already been referred to. If the bears are sought
for in the proper places, there is no reason why they may not be found
and killed. Around Spitzbergen the most ‘likely’ places are in Stor
Fjord, along the south-east and east coast (which indeed is but seldom
accessible), and on the north coast east of Wiide Bay, and in the
Hinlopen Straits; the number of bear to be found in these localities
depending, of course, on the state of the ice. In the spring of 1889,
the south-east coast was more or less open, and the bears were so
numerous that the skipper of one of a fleet of seven walrus sloops,
which arrived from Norway during the last week in May, told me that
he had counted upwards of twenty bears on the ice at one time, near
Half-moon Island. In the same spring, one sloop killed or captured
fifty bears in the locality. When a bear is discovered on the ice by
the look-out in the crow’s-nest, a ‘fangstbaad’ is lowered, and the
hunt begins. It is often but a tame affair. If one of the hunters can
manage to show himself between the main body of the ice or land and
his quarry, the bear will generally take to the water, when he may
be pursued and dispatched at leisure, for he is not a fast swimmer,
although a powerful one. The carcase of a bear, unlike that of the
walrus or seal, always floats. Among rough old pack or on ‘hummocky’
fast ice, however, the affair assumes a more sporting turn, as the bear
must then be carefully stalked amid the ice lumps, either by boat or
on foot, great attention being paid to the direction of the wind; for
_Ursus maritimus_ is one of the keenest-scented animals in creation,
and if he once winds the hunter, the chase may be abandoned unless
there is a chance of driving him into the water. The chief danger of
such a hunt is from the ice, which is liable to be ‘working,’ or which,
in the case of bay ice, may be rotten in places at the season of the
year when most of the hunting is done. In many cases a man should not
venture on a floe or big sheet of bay ice to chase or intercept a bear
without a pair of Norwegian snow-shoes and a ‘hakkepik,’ and should
be careful also in stepping on to the ice from a boat, as the edge is
often undermined by the action of the water, and will break beneath his
weight, although to the eye it looks as solid as the rest of the block.
There is another phase of hunting. When the darkness of an Arctic
winter has settled down on the ice fields, wrapping some ice-bound
crew in its pall, then one of the few excitements which is granted to
these men, left out of the light and warmth of the world, is the silent
coming of some old white bear.
Early one December morning, when wintering on Danes Island, we heard
bears about a mile away among the loose ice near Amsterdam Island. The
men judged that the cries were made by a cub which was being punished
by its mother for not being able to keep up with her, and this proved
to be the case; for before noon an old she-bear, and what seemed
to be, from the tracks we afterwards saw, a three-parts-grown cub,
were ‘nosing’ about some old seal carcases which, frozen into stony
hardness, were lying a few yards distant from the snow wall surrounding
the house. I crept up to them, but with an overcast sky and no moon
there was not light enough for a fair aim, even at a few feet distance,
so that the heavy balls from the Paradox gun struck her too far back to
stop her at once, and with a low roar both she and the cub made off.
For some way along the shore there was an open space, a few feet in
width, between the ice and rocks, caused by the rise and fall of the
tides, and we saw the phosphorescent light flash up as the old bear
struck the water in crossing it. The cub kept along the shore-line, and
the skipper and myself followed his trail in deep snow until it ran on
to the ice. As we retraced our steps we saw a spurt of flame apparently
about a quarter of a mile away, near the Corpse Rocks; but the report
of the rifle never reached us, being lost in the rending and groaning
of the ice, which was grinding its way out of the Gat. This shot we
found was fired by the mate, who was out on the ice after the old bear,
with whom he had evidently come up, for we saw his rifle flash again
and again, and had just decided to go to him, dragging our smallest
boat with us, when the ice must have become jammed in the mouth of the
Gat, for it began to close again. We were soon up with him, and did not
stop to skin the bear, but dragged it head first over the ice to the
house. The mate had found her lying down, and in twelve shots, two of
which were miss-fires, had in the darkness put six bullets into her,
the last of which had pierced her heart. She was in fair condition,
although giving suck, but the stomach was quite empty, save for an old
reindeer moccasin which one of the men had thrown away. One of my shots
had almost filled the abdominal cavity with torn entrails and débris,
but, with this terrible wound and a broken hind leg, the bear had
fought her way for more than a quarter of a mile through loose ice,
before lying down on the spot where the mate found her. A few hours
later a south-west gale was cutting the crest off the heavy seas which
were rolling where the trail we made in dragging the dead bear had been.
[Illustration: THE CORPSE ROCKS]
In conclusion, I may mention a ruse we employed during the winter
months to attract any bears which might be roaming in our vicinity. A
small quantity of seal blubber was kept burning and simmering in an
iron pot, placed without our snow wall and replenished every few hours.
Towards the end of February, two days after the reappearance of the
sun, a large old he-bear wandered about within sight, for the greater
portion of two days, apparently sniffing up the fumes from our blubber
pot, without daring to approach within four hundred yards of the house.
At length we killed him, and after taking the skin decided to utilise
the flesh, to the sparing of our blubber stock. With this idea, we
filled the cavity of his chest with shavings and coal oil, and set the
mass on fire. The odour of the dense black vapour which poured from
the carcase may have attractions for bears, but was too pungent and
powerful for human nostrils. The men were quickly of the opinion that
‘bear would not eat bear,’ and the following morning we were compelled
to cut a hole in the ice, and commit the charred body of the last of
our winter visitors to a watery grave.