UTILIZING THE RESOURCES OF THE COUNTRY
One of the basic principles of all my polar expeditions has been to
depend upon the country itself for the fresh-meat supply. To this fact
is due the entire absence of scurvy on all my voyages. Contrary to a
general idea, the polar regions of northern Greenland, Ellesmere Land,
and Grant Land have for the experienced hunter a considerable and
most attractive fauna, and while there are certain parts where it is
virtually impossible to find even so much as a stray polar hare, there
are other regions where a very fair amount of meat can be obtained in
a comparatively short time by those knowing how, and acquainted with
polar topography and the habits of polar animals.
The polar bill of fare includes fish, flesh, and fowl in considerable
variety. The walrus and seal of the Eskimo are, of course, known to
every child. Both furnish a strong and healthy diet, but few white
men become really fond of it. There are, however, other animals in
the region which furnish delicacies that would grace the table of the
finest hotel in any great city, as the musk-ox, reindeer, and polar
hare. Polar bear, if young, makes a very acceptable steak. At any age
the meat is not at all disagreeable when frozen and eaten raw.
Of the sea animals, in addition to the walrus and the ringed or
floe-seal, there are the harp-and the square-flipper-seal, the flesh of
both of which possesses a much less pronounced bouquet than the walrus
and the floe-seal.
Of birds there are various kinds; the most abundant are the little
auks, and next the Brunnich’s guillemot. Then there are the eider-duck,
the long-tailed duck, the brant, and the king-eider. It is possible
also in some localities to get an occasional mess of ptarmigan, the
arctic white grouse. The various species of gulls are considered fine
eating by the Eskimos, but they are a bit rank to the white man.
Of fish there are two kinds, the grayling and a species of char that
we called rather affectionately salmon-trout. In September, 1900,
this latter fish kept alive for about ten days my party of six men
and twenty-three clogs. It is undoubtedly the finest fish food to be
found anywhere, in color a pale pink, like salmon or unripe watermelon.
Living in water never warmer than forty degrees, perhaps never above
thirty-five degrees, it is the sweetest, firmest fish fiber in the
world.
It is no small task to secure a supply of meat sufficient to keep
hundreds of dogs alive and in good condition all winter, and to provide
fresh meat for a crew of over twenty and some fifty Eskimos. Hunting
parties must be kept constantly in the field during the autumn months
to meet the demand.
The mainstay in the way of food for the dogs is walrus, and weighing
anywhere from 1000 to 3000 pounds, they provide the maximum of meat at
a minimum of time and energy. During the months of July, August, and
September these animals are to be found in large herds in Wolstenholme
and Whale Sounds, where they assemble to feed on the shell-fish
abounding in those shallow waters. Here they may be seen basking in the
sun on the ice-floes and cakes of ice, singly, or in groups ranging
from two or three up into the hundreds. I have seen anywhere from one
hundred to one hundred and fifty walrus on one large ice-pan, with an
equally large number in the surrounding water; but only on Littleton
Island, in Smith Sound, and along the shore of the mainland opposite
have I ever seen them on the rocks. It is worthy of note that during
the summer months males only, and chiefly the old ones, are to be found
in Wolstenholme Sound, the females, calves, and young males haunting
the waters about Littleton Island and Oomenak Sound.
[Illustration: GIANT POLAR BEAR KILLED IN BUCHANAN BAY, JULY 4
Note the size of the paws and forearm. A single blow from such a paw
sometimes disembowels an Eskimo, smashes all his ribs, or crushes his
head like an eggshell]
A few walrus are secured by the Eskimos in these waters during the
summer, but the bulk of the annual catch, at least two-thirds and
possibly three quarters, is made at Cape Chalon in the spring.
Virtually all the walrus of this region winter in the open north water
off Cape Chalon, sometimes separated from the cape by ten miles of ice,
sometimes by twenty-five. Strong winds break up the ice along the edge
of the north water early in February, making the distance for an Eskimo
to drag his sledge from Cape Chalon just so much less. This breaking
up of the border ice is usually followed by low temperatures, which
in a few hours make the new ice strong enough to support a sledge and
dogs. The hunters leave the cape early in the morning and, driving out
to the edge of the old ice, tie their dogs, and with a lance, harpoon,
and line begin a search out on the new ice for the walrus. On sighting
an animal, a hunter harpoons it, takes a turn of the line round the
harpoon-shaft, sticks the harpoon into the ice, and braces it with his
foot, while a companion lances the lungs or heart of the huge creature.
As soon as the walrus is dead it is pulled out upon the ice, cut up,
and placed on the sledges, which have meanwhile been brought out,
and is ready to be carried back to the settlement. These hunts are
continued until late in the spring, and large quantities of meat are
secured.
Hunting walrus in a small whale-boat, however, furnishes the most
exciting and dangerous sport north of the arctic circle. With an Eskimo
crew at the oars; a sailor at the steering-oar; two other Eskimos,
experts with the harpoon, in the bow; an experienced man in the bow
with a rifle; and Bartlett or me in the stern, just in front of the
man at the steering-oar, we considered a boat well manned. In the way
of equipment there should be at least three repeating-rifles, with
abundance of ammunition; six or eight harpoons, with lines and floats,
spare boat-hooks, and a heavy, short-handled ax for each man, for
smashing the walrus in the face when they try to come aboard. A good
supply of old coats or blankets should be taken along for plugging up
holes punched in the boat by the tusks of the walrus.
At the faintest suggestion of smoke walrus will quickly disappear
in the water, and a party nearing a herd of these huge creatures by
steamer should keep to leeward of them if possible, and take to the
small boats when still far enough away to prevent its presence being
detected by the animals. The whale-boats should always be white, to
give an appearance of cakes of ice, and the oar-locks carefully muffled
to reduce the noise of approach to a minimum. It is a comparatively
easy thing to harpoon a walrus asleep on an ice-pan, and sometimes by
using small bergs as a screen to hide behind, a party can approach to
within a few yards of a herd and harpoon several before they are fully
awake. In most cases, however, twenty yards is the nearest a boat can
get before the walrus are aroused, and begin to slip into the water.
A few shots quickly decide whether they are going to fight or beat
a retreat, necessitating a long chase possibly, and adding to the
difficulty of harpooning them.
The harpoon equipment of the Eskimo is made up of a tough line of the
hide of the square-flipper-seal, one hundred feet long, attached to
an iron-edged ivory head fitting on the end of a heavy harpoon-shaft
of wood. The other end of the line is attached to an entire sealskin
inflated, and some distance from the end is fastened a rectangular
drag, attached, like a kite, by a bridle-line. The float, remaining on
the surface, marks the position of the animal and prevents its going
deeper than the length of the line. Only the largest and most powerful
bull walrus can drag it under, and that only for a few minutes. The
float also keeps the animal from going to the bottom and being lost
after being killed. The drag retards the movements of the animal and
tires him out.
The Eskimo in charge of the harpoon has his line coiled beside him in
the bow, with the harpoon-shaft laid across the gunwales. A few coils
of the line are separated from the rest and placed a little to one
side, where they can be easily and quickly grasped and held in his left
hand as the harpoon is launched, thus allowing the line to play out
easily. As soon as a walrus is harpooned, line, float, and drag are
thrown overboard. Care should be taken to give the flying line a clear
berth, for to be caught by a turn of it would mean at least a wetting
and possibly more serious results.
In an attack by fifty or more of these infuriated beasts a small
whale-boat is no place for a nervous person, and I have known Eskimos,
accustomed for years to such encounters, when surrounded by these huge,
ivory-tusked creatures, with angry, bloodshot eyes, emitting vicious
roars through thick, stiff-bearded lips, and making savage attempts to
get at the occupants of the boat, to lose their heads so completely
as to drop their harpoons, begin to yell, and even to spit at their
formidable foes. At such a time every one seizes an oar, boat-hook,
or anything solid, and, as the brutes attack, hits them over the head
to keep them at a respectable distance from the boat while the men at
the rifles do their work. In several encounters I have had a harpooned
walrus draw the line taut and, before he could be finished with a
bullet, race off, with us in tow, crashing into any ice which might be
in our course, knocking the startled Eskimos from the thwarts, with
the rest of the herd following, snorting and charging on all sides. A
walrus can with the utmost ease plunge his tusks through several inches
of new ice, and it is no uncommon occurrence for one to dive and come
up under the boat, ripping a hole in it, and necessitating a hasty
retreat to firm ice.
[Illustration: BRINGING NARWHAL ASHORE]
[Illustration: WALRUS HUNTERS AND THEIR KILL]
The modus operandi of my big, systematic walrus hunts to secure the
maximum amount of meat in the least time was as follows:
As many harpoon outfits as possible, fifty sometimes, complete with
floats and drags, were assembled on my ship, with the best harpooners
of the tribe. Then two, three, or four of my whale-boats were kept at
work, each supplied with six or eight outfits. The galley was kept
in commission continuously supplying hot coffee, baked beans, and
pilot-bread, and one of the officers remained in the crow’s-nest (a
barrel at the mast-head) with a telescope, locating the cakes of ice
that had walrus on them. Sometimes when the walrus were numerous all
the boats would get away at the same time in different directions.
Sometimes one would start out, and then the ship would steam on and
drop another and then another. Each boat kept at the walrus until it
had all its harpoons and lines fast to the animals, and perhaps two or
three dead with rifle-bullets on the ice. When all the lines and floats
were out, the boat would pull round to each float where an animal was
still alive, despatch it with a rifle, then, if the ship was near, go
aboard for lunch, or, if far off, stand an oar on end whaler-fashion
and wait its arrival. The ship, with the gangways in the bulwarks
amidships taken out and a narrow staging rigged down the side about a
foot above the water, would then steam alongside each float in turn, a
man on the stage would pass the float up to the deck, and the walrus
hanging dead in the water down the length of the line, would be pulled
to the surface, the man on the stage with a sharp, strong knife would
cut a slit in the tough hide, insert the hook of a heavy tackle and
fall, the man at the steam-winch would turn on steam, and in a minute
or two the huge brute would be dropped in a brown mass on deck. A young
Eskimo would jump forward, cut out the harpoon, and take line, float,
and drag aft, coil them carefully for use again, and the old men and
women would quickly skin and cut up the animal. By the time all of one
boat’s kill had been brought aboard her crew had had their lunch, and,
if other walrus were in sight, went away again after them, or, if none
was in sight, waited till the masthead man sighted more.
In this way forty walrus have been obtained in a night or a day’s hunt,
and two hundred and fifty in two weeks’ work. On one or two memorable
hunts they came in so fast that it was impossible to skin and cut them
up till the hunt was over and every one had had a good sleep. At these
times the deck was hidden under the huge, brown, shapeless forms, and
the ship listed heavily to one side with the top-heavy load.
In hunting walrus only powerful rifles should be used, and even
with them knowledge of how and where to shoot will save an enormous
expenditure of powder and lead. It is utterly useless to shoot walrus
in the body. For a side shot, a spot on the head as far back of the
eye as the eye is back of the nose should be hit. Here the small
brain has less protecting skull about it. The back of the head is
also vulnerable. A frontal shot is almost an impossibility. The only
chance is, when the walrus opens its mouth, to put a bullet between
the tusks down the throat and smash the vertebræ at the base of the
skull. This shot is most likely to occur with a number of bull walrus
in the water close about the boat. On several occasions a bull walrus,
rising with a rush close to the boat and opening his mouth to bellow,
has been surprised by a shot of this character, and gone like a rock
to the bottom. On one occasion a harpooned animal, while fast to a
line and float, invariably rose to the surface facing the boat, and
had the entire front of its head back to the eyes literally smashed
off, tusks and all, by eight or ten shots before he was killed. It
is an utter waste of powder and walrus meat to shoot these animals
in the water unless they have been harpooned and are fast to a line
and float. If instantly killed, they go to the bottom like rocks. If
mortally wounded, they struggle to the same place. On a few occasions,
in shooting a walrus in the back of the head, the blow of the bullet
that killed it instantly forced its head under water, giving the air in
the Lungs no chance to escape, and the animal floated with a bit of
the back exposed till a float could be fastened to it. But these cases
are rare, and in my later expeditions my invariable orders were never
to shoot a walrus in the water unless it already had a line fast to it.
Even when shot on the ice, unless it is a large floe, one is never sure
of an animal until it is aboard or has a float fast to it.
The inert collapse of half a ton or more of flesh and bone under the
impact of a bullet in the brain is sufficient to tilt a small ice-pan
and slide the dead walrus into the water. The slightest touch of the
ship as she forges alongside the cake to hoist the animal on board will
have the same result, and on two or three occasions when I have lowered
a boat to put a man on the ice and make a line fast to the animal,
the man’s weight has been enough to disturb the balance and throw the
precious meat into the water.
Now that the United States has given up all her rights in Greenland to
Denmark, it is quite likely that an embargo on walrus hunting in the
Whale Sound region will be attempted as has been the case for years in
southern Greenland.
In such event polar expeditions by the Smith Sound route may find it
desirable to obtain dog food in bulk for winter use at headquarters
from the whale factories of the Labrador coast. It will not be as
satisfactory as the walrus meat, but it may serve the purpose.
Seen a few feet under one’s boat in the pale-green, icy water of Whale
Sound, a herd of rushing walrus, as swift and sinuous as seals, the
great uncouth, gray shapes rolling from side to side to leer upward
with little, bloodshot eyes and show a flash of white tusks, is like a
nightmare dream of the inferno.
Stuffed and baked, the heart of the walrus is as great a delicacy
as a beef heart. Dr. Senn, a Chicago traveler and writer, a summer
visitor on one of my auxiliary ships, was greatly captivated by it, and
Percy, my Newfoundland steward of numerous expeditions, incited by the
praise of his discovery, became a blue-ribbon chef in cooking it. Some
explorers have highly praised the walrus liver and urged its value as a
preventive and cure for scurvy. Never having been obliged to use it for
that purpose, and spoiled perhaps by the more delicate seal, reindeer,
musk-ox, and hare livers, the members of my expeditions never seemed to
care for it.
The thick, tough hide of the walrus furnishes a dog food of wonderful
staying qualities. A small piece of it when frozen will keep the
strongest-jawed Eskimo dog occupied and interested for hours in his
efforts to soften it to the point where he can swallow it whole.
I have always taken on just as much walrus meat and blubber as the
ship, already filled almost to her capacity with coal, etc., would
allow--some fifty walrus, perhaps. This, together with seventy or more
tons of whale meat bought at Labrador, has carried the dogs through the
winter, and has also helped feed the Eskimos, who virtually live on
narwhal, seal, and walrus. The narwhal and seal also make valuable dog
food, the former being found in the Whale Sound region; but on my last
expedition north there was virtually no narwhal hunting.
Seals are obtained in abundance at Cape Chalon, the spring
hunting-ground of the Eskimos, and at the end of some seasons large
piles of this meat are stacked along the ice-foot at the village.
Equipped with a seal spear, and dressed in the warmest of furs, with
feet padded with bearskin to muffle their tread, and with small
three-legged stools, men, boys, and even women may be seen sitting
for hours beside a hole in the ice waiting for a seal to appear for a
breath of air. Occasional seals were always captured on our way to and
from winter quarters, and they frequently appeared near the ship during
the winter.
For the fresh-meat supply of my men I have always depended on the
musk-ox, and on all my expeditions have been able to find numbers of
these animals within a radius of a hundred miles of the ship or other
winter quarters. They can be found at any time of the year, even
during the long polar night, by those who know how. The grass and
creeping-willows furnish subsistence for them the year round, the
strong winds peculiar to those regions sweeping large tracts of land
bare of snow in winter, thus enabling them to eke out an existence.
I killed my first musk-ox in 1892 on the northeast coast of Greenland
near Independence Bay, and three years later discovered tracks of
fifteen or twenty in the same region, and secured six of them. During
my expedition of 1898–1902 numerous musk-oxen were killed about Fort
Conger, seventy-odd in its immediate neighborhood; forty in the region
from Discovery Harbor westward by way of Black Rock Vale, and the
southern side of Lake Hazen, seventeen about St. Patrick’s Bay, three
beyond Black Cape, near the winter quarters of the _Alert_; sixteen in
Musk Ox Valley; twelve at the Bellows and Black Rock Vale; seventeen on
Bache Peninsula; twenty at the northern arm of Buchanan Bay, and one at
its southern arm; seven on the ice-cap of Ellesmere Land; and in the
autumn of 1900 one hundred and one were killed in various localities
from Discovery Harbor to Very River, ninety-two of them being secured
in less than three weeks. In the region about Cape Morris K. Jesup two
herds numbering fifteen and eighteen animals were discovered, and two
or three stray ones, but only four of these were needed for my party.
My 1905–06 expedition secured its supply of musk-ox meat chiefly from
the drainage basin of Lake Hazen. The northern side of the lake had
not been drawn upon for years, and hunting parties in this region,
covering the southern slopes of the United States Range, met with great
success. Eskimo hunting parties also covered the country from Lake
Hazen and Wrangel Bay northward to Clements Markham Inlet with almost
as satisfactory results. A few animals were killed on the way north
on Bache Peninsula, and if it had not been for the discovery of a few
of these animals on my return from 87° 6´ my party would never have
reached the ship. Luckily seven musk-oxen were found in Nares Land, and
later on my western trip we secured seven more near Cape Columbia.
[Illustration: A MAGNIFICENT BULL MUSK-OX]
[Illustration: REINDEER OF 83° N. LAT.
Buck, doe, and young of new species of white reindeer named by Dr. J.
A. Allen “Rangifer Pearyii”]
The presence of musk-oxen can be detected very quickly by the patches
of luxuriant grass which mark all their rendezvous, although along the
inhabited parts of the Greenland coast an unusual growth of grass may
be a sign of a former igloo. A careful examination of these places will
soon show whether musk-oxen have been about, bits of wool and hair shed
from their shaggy coats being scattered here and there on the ground,
while their tracks show how recent has been their visit. Fresh tracks
of musk-oxen being discovered, it does not often mean a great distance
to travel before the animals themselves are sighted; and musk-oxen once
seen may be considered dead musk-oxen by an experienced hunter with a
good dog or two. On approaching to within a mile or so of them, the
dogs are let loose, and the hunter can follow at a comfortable pace,
knowing that on his arrival the herd will be rounded up. A musk-ox, if
alone, will retreat to the nearest cliff and back up against it at the
appearance of dogs. A herd, however, will round up anywhere, with their
tails together, facing the intruders, while their leader takes his
stand on the outskirts of the group and charges the dogs as they come
up. As soon as the leader is shot, another steps out from the herd to
take his place, and so on. When things begin to look too bad for them,
they will sometimes make a wild break to escape, or the whole herd may
charge the enemy.
With the musk-ox, as with the walrus, knowing how makes all the
difference in the world in the amount of ammunition expended and the
amount of meat secured. With the exception of a few months in summer a
strong rifle is required, as the pelt of the musk-ox is very thick and
heavy. With a suitable rifle and some experience one shot to an animal
should be sufficient.
In my 1900 sledge trip round the northern terminus of Greenland I
obtained ten musk-oxen and a polar bear with twelve cartridges. Two of
these were expended on the bear. In a very successful late September
afternoon hunt on the north side of Lake Hazen I secured twenty-five
musk-oxen with twenty-six cartridges, two being expended on the bull
leader, which my first hurried shot had stopped, but not killed, in a
charge on my dogs. At another time, the others of my party being away,
I took a solitary scout from camp with only an army Colt 45. With the
six shots in this I got five bull musk-oxen.
On the other hand, in the narrative of the _Polaris_ expedition, it
is stated that some of the crew expended three hundred shots on one
animal, and then, while they went after more ammunition, it left.
With the musk-ox, as with the walrus, in my later expeditions I hunted
them on a large scale and in a systematic way, with careful attention
to details to secure the largest amount of meat and not waste an ounce.
All hunting parties had detailed orders.
Musk-oxen were to be shot back of the fore shoulder or in the neck, at
the base of the skull. These are the instantly fatal spots. Frontal or
head shots are a waste of ammunition. Skins were removed with feet and
legs attached, rolled up in bundles to fit the sledges, and taken back
to the ship to be thawed out and carefully prepared by the Eskimo women
at their leisure during the winter. Hearts, livers, and kidneys were
removed, laid out to freeze solid, then stored under rocks away from
dogs, wolves, and foxes until sledged back to the ship. The remainder
of the viscera was fed to the dogs on the spot. The heavy backbone,
pelvis, and leg bones were cut out, the marrow bones cracked, and their
contents eaten at the hunting-camp. The others were thrown to the dogs
to gnaw clean. The great brick-red hams, fore shoulders, and balls of
meat from the neck and ribs, all frozen like granite, were then piled
in a big stack, to be sledged to the ship from time to time during the
winter. In this way nothing was wasted; the bones and viscera were
utilized on the spot, and only the clear solid meat had to be hauled
over the arduous trails.
There is constant excitement in traversing musk-ox country. One can
never tell when the opening up of a valley or a turn around a cliff may
bring one or a herd of the shaggy animals into view.
On two occasions the discovery of musk-oxen saved my sledge-party
from starvation, and the discovery was not due to happy chance or
accident, but was the result of careful, intelligent search in suitable
localities, examining every slope and valley and rock within range of
field-glasses, carried for that special purpose, and as much a part of
the hunting equipment as the rifle.
When I stretch myself or drop my hand on the thick, black felt of the
musk-ox robes in my study, the touch of them conjures up many a vivid
picture, and I have a more than friendly feeling for those strange,
black denizens of the highest North.
The favorite haunts of the reindeer are the rolling, grassy slopes
about the landlocked lakes of the North, where the pasturage is
abundant, and they are sheltered from the cold sea-fogs and the sharp
winds from the ice-cap. These animals, or traces of them, have been
found by various explorers in Rawlings Bay, the region about Fort
Conger in Grinnell Land, and at Alexandra Haven in Ellesmere Land, and
they have been reported in considerable numbers on the western side of
this land. In 1901 one of my men found an antler as far south as Erik
Harbor.
In the region about our winter quarters in McCormick and Bowdoin Bays
in 1891–93 and 1893–95 deer were most plentiful. During the autumn of
1891 one was killed on the plateau just back of Red Cliff House; two
boat-trips to the head of McCormick Bay resulted in fourteen being
obtained, and soon after ten were found on the northeast side of the
bay in Five Glacier Valley. The following spring eleven were added to
our larder, two from Five Glacier Valley, one from Cape Cleveland, the
rest from Bowdoin Bay. In 1893 I visited the southern slopes of the
northern side of Olriks Bay, a favorite resort of the deer. Five hours’
work added seventeen deer to our meat supply, and thirty-three were
killed later in the same place; seven were seen in the neighborhood of
Cape Athol, but only one was bagged. In January, 1894, hunting parties
sent out to the deer pastures of Kangerdlooksoah were very successful,
bringing back fifty-four animals.
In 1905–06 we got eleven deer on the northern coast of Grant Land;
a party sent out to Porter Bay returned with the meat and skins of
seven; and seven more were obtained from a herd of eleven discovered
on Fielden Peninsula. These reindeer were the first of their kind ever
found, magnificent animals, almost pure white in color, designated by
naturalists as a new species. Later these were found to be numerous in
the region between Lake Hazen and Cape Hecla and along the coast of
northern Grant Land to the westward, fifty-odd being killed.
On my last expedition a Porter Bay party brought in fourteen of the
animals; three were picked up not far from the ship, and a stray one in
James Ross Bay.
A deer means a week’s rations added to the meat supply of the party,
and the realization of this when bringing one down is far from being an
unpleasant sensation.
Of course deer hunting is much the same the world over, but the Eskimos
have a magic call to these animals which has been taught to the young
hunters of every rising generation. It is similar to the hissing of a
cat, only more prolonged, and will cause a fleeing buck reindeer to
stop instantly in his tracks, giving the desired shot.
To most polar travelers and explorers, and to all readers, the polar
bear, sometimes called the “Tiger of the North,” has loomed largest as
the “big game” par excellence of the North. I know of nothing that will
excite an Eskimo so much as the sight of one of these huge creatures
in the distance; but a contest with even three or four bears and a
man armed with a Winchester is always one-sided and tame sport in
comparison with a lively walrus hunt.
None of my expeditions has had the exciting bear adventures of others.
Bears never have attacked us, or come poking into our tents while we
were asleep. No member of my party ever had a hair-breadth encounter
with one. We hunted them assiduously, partly for the meat, but more for
skins to supply us with trousers for the long sledge journeys, and we
were able to secure only enough for this purpose.
My visualization of a bear hunt is the constant watching of the
ice-floes about the sledge with eyes and field-glasses, the glimpsing
of a cream-colored spot slipping behind an ice pinnacle, or of great
tracks in the snow. If the bear has heard the dogs, the tracks are a
series of huge leaps headed directly away from us; the loosening of
two or three of the trained dogs, the rapid overhauling of the bear,
a single shot, or at the most two, and then strenuous efforts to keep
the crazy dogs away from the carcass while it is skinned, cut up, and
loaded on the sledge.
Though classed among the pure carnivora, the Eskimos say that the polar
bear of that region when unable to secure seals will take a “hike”
across country, and fill up on grass like a reindeer.
I believe this to be true. An enormous male bear which I killed on the
Fourth of July in Flagler Bay was big bellied as a cow, and the stomach
was distended with grass.
In 1886, at Ravenscraig Harbor, on the south side of Eglinton Fiord, a
fleet of four whalers and the _Eagle_ obtained ten bears, two of these
being harpooned in the water by the crew of the _Eagle_. So enraged was
one of the animals that the crews of three boats were required to keep
the bear from climbing into the _Eagle’s_ boat to wreak vengeance on
the occupants. Just north of Cape Hooper we got three more bears in the
ice-pack. It is not always possible to bring a bear down with the first
shot when he is traveling over rough ice, but there need be no doubt as
to whether a shot has reached its mark or not, for a wounded bear will
always make savage snaps at the spot stung by a bullet.
In July, 1891, we obtained one bear in the Melville Bay ice-pack, and
pursued an old bear with her two cubs for some distance, but they made
good their escape. The next spring one of my Eskimo hunters came upon a
young bear near Cape Parry, and in the spring of 1894 five were brought
in from Kane Basin.
During my 1905–06 expedition one bear was killed near Cape Sabine,
another in crossing Kane Basin, and two on the northern shore of Bache
Peninsula. Only one was obtained during my last trip, and that in James
Ross Bay; but on our way from Cape Columbia to the pole we discovered
fresh polar bear tracks over two hundred miles from land, and on our
return came across tracks of what we believed to be the same bear.
Actual measurements of the broad plantigrade footprints of a bear on
one of my earlier expeditions gave a width of eleven inches, with a
length of twenty-two inches; but the dragging toes and hair of the
animal’s heels in the soft snow made a much larger trail, closely
resembling that of a man on snow-shoes.
Chief among the smaller animals of the North are the polar hares,
which are found occasionally on southern slopes, even as far north as
the northern shores of Grant Land. Like the penguins of the antarctic
regions, they have not yet learned to fear man, and it is possible to
get almost close enough to pick them up. On my last expedition members
of the party discovered hundreds of these little animals around Lake
Hazen, and succeeded in getting near enough to hit them over the head
with their rifles instead of shooting. A stray hare or two picked up on
sledge-trips make a very acceptable change in the monotonous diet of
pemmican.
[Illustration: SECURING BIRDS AT THE BIRD CLIFFS]
[Illustration: HARE HUNTING AT 83° N. LAT.]
While it can scarcely be said that the sea-birds of the North are
hunted, still thousands upon thousands of little auks and guillemots
are caught every year by the Eskimos with their nets, and laid by for
the long winter. At Red Cliff House, in 1891–93, millions of these
birds were to be seen in the summer months, and boat-trips were made
to the loomeries of Hakluyt, Northumberland, and Herbert Islands for
a supply of them. In the clefts of the perpendicular cliffs of these
islands the Brunnich’s guillemots breed by the thousands. Our method of
capturing them was to run the boat up to the cliffs after as many as
could be kept track of had been shot, and while one man collected the
dead birds, another kept the boat off the rocks with his boat-hook. Not
over thirty per cent. of the birds killed would fall into the water,
the majority of them catching on the cliffs, where it was impossible
to get at them. Millions of guillemots, kittiwakes, and little auks,
as well as numerous looms, burgomasters, and falcons, are to be found
along the cliffs between Cape York and Conical Rock. With vast throngs
of these birds perched on every projecting rock or ledge, these cliffs
appear to be fairly alive. Eider-ducks are on Duck Islands of Melville
Bay and McGary Island in considerable quantities. Two stray ones were
killed near Cape Belknap in 1907.
Brant also are found on the northern coast of Grant Land; after my
return from “farthest north” in 1906 we came across groups of ten or
eleven, and near Cape Thomas Hubbard I discovered a flock of as many as
one hundred of these birds.
The only available fish in the north are found in the landlocked lakes
of that region. They will not touch bait, and the Eskimo method of
catching them with a spear had to be adopted by us. The native spears
are made by setting a nail or any sharp bit of steel in the end of a
shaft. Two pieces of deer antler are bound with fine cord to each side
of the shaft so that they point downward, and sharp nails are then set
in these, pointing inward. A hole is cut in the ice, and a small fish
carved from ivory, in which art the Eskimos are surprisingly expert,
is dropped into the water. A fish, rising to examine the decoy, is
immediately thrust with the spear, which, pressing down on its back,
causes the portions of antler to spread, and the nails to sink into its
flesh and makes escape almost impossible.
My confidence in the ability of the country to furnish the fresh-meat
supply of my expeditions has always been justified by results. Even in
1905–06, when, with the long polar night upon us, I had to face the
serious proposition of feeding my dogs and most of my Eskimos entirely
upon the country because the whale meat purchased in Labrador proved
to be bad and had to be thrown away, I found it possible to subsist
them upon the country’s resources. It is quite true, though, that
such a thing would have been absolutely impossible had it not been
for my thorough knowledge of this region. Nor should I have found an
abundance of game along the most northerly lands,--the northern coasts
of Greenland and Grant Land,--where Nares and Greely’s parties found
practically none, and were reduced to most serious straits, had it not
been for my previous years of training and experience in how and where
to look for polar game.