ARCTIC MARINE ANIMALS
Populousness of the Arctic Seas.--The Greenland Whale.--The Fin
Whales.--The Narwhal.--The Beluga, or White Dolphin.--The Black
Dolphin.--His wholesale Massacre on the Faeroe Islands.--The Orc,
or Grampus.--The Seals.--The Walrus.--Its acute Smell.--History
of a young Walrus.--Parental Affection.--The Polar Bear.--His
Sagacity.--Hibernation of the She-bear.--Sea-birds.
The vast multitudes of animated beings which people the Polar Seas form
a remarkable contrast to the nakedness of their bleak and desolate
shores. The colder surface-waters almost perpetually exposed to a
chilly air, and frequently covered, even in summer, with floating
ice, are indeed unfavorable to the development of organic life; but
this adverse influence is modified by the higher temperature which
constantly prevails at a greater depth; for, contrary to what takes
place in the equatorial seas, we find in the Polar Ocean an increase
of temperature from the surface downward, in consequence of the warmer
under-currents, flowing from the south northward, and passing beneath
the cold waters of the superficial Arctic current.
Thus the severity of the Polar winter remains unfelt at a greater depth
of the sea, where myriads of creatures find a secure retreat against
the frost, and whence they emerge during the long summer’s day, either
to line the shores or to ascend the broad rivers of the Arctic world.
Between the parallels of 74° and 80° Scoresby observed that the color
of the Greenland sea varies from the purest ultramarine to olive green,
and from crystalline transparency to striking opacity--appearances
which are not transitory, but permanent. This green semi-opaque water,
whose position varies with the currents, often forming isolated
stripes, and sometimes spreading over two or three degrees of latitude,
mainly owes its singular aspect to small medusæ and nudibranchiate
molluscs. It is calculated to form one-fourth part of the surface of
the sea between the above-mentioned parallels, so that many thousands
of square miles are absolutely teeming with life.
On the coast of Greenland, where the waters are so exceedingly clear
that the bottom and every object upon it are plainly visible even at
a depth of eighty fathoms, the ground is seen covered with gigantic
tangles, which, together with the animal world circulating among
their fronds, remind the spectator of the coral-reefs of the tropical
ocean. Nullipores, mussels, alcyonians, sertularians, ascidians, and
a variety of other sessile animals, incrust every stone or fill every
hollow or crevice of the rocky ground. A dead seal or fish thrown into
the sea is soon converted into a skeleton by the myriads of small
crustaceans which infest these northern waters, and, like the ants in
the equatorial forests, perform the part of scavengers of the deep.
Thus we find an exuberance of life, in its smaller and smallest forms,
peopling the Arctic waters, and affording nourishment to a variety of
strange and bulky creatures--cetaceans, walruses, and seals--which
annually attract thousands of adventurous seamen to the icy ocean.
Of these sea-mammalians, the most important to civilized man is
undoubtedly the Greenland whale (_Balæna mysticetus_), or smooth-back,
thus called from its having no dorsal fin. Formerly these whales were
harpooned in considerable numbers in the Icelandic waters, or in the
fiords of Spitzbergen and Danish Greenland; then Davis’s Straits became
the favorite fishing-grounds; and more recently the inlets and various
channels to the east of Baffin’s Bay have been invaded; while, on the
opposite side of America, several hundreds of whalers penetrate every
year through Bering’s Straits into the icy sea beyond, where previously
they lived and multiplied, unmolested except by the Esquimaux.
[Illustration: 34. THE WHALE.]
More fortunate than the smooth-back, the rorquals, or fin-whales
(_Balænoptera boops_, _musculus_, _physalis_, and _rostratus_), still
remain in their ancient seats, from which they are not likely to be
dislodged, as the agility of their movements makes their capture more
difficult and dangerous; while at the same time the small quantity
of their fat and the shortness of their baleen render it far less
remunerative. They are of a more slender form of body, and with a more
pointed muzzle than the Greenland whale; and while the latter attains
a length of only sixty feet, the _Balænoptera boops_ grows to the vast
length of 100 feet and more. There is also a difference in their food,
for the Greenland whale chiefly feeds upon the minute animals that
crowd the olive-colored waters above described, or on the hosts of
little pteropods that are found in many parts of the Arctic seas, while
the rorquals frequently accompany the herring-shoals, and carry death
and destruction into their ranks.
The seas of Novaja Zemlya, Spitzbergen, and Greenland are the domain
of the narwhal, or sea-unicorn, a cetacean quite as strange, but not
so fabulous as the terrestrial animal which figures in the arms of
England. The use of the enormous spirally wound tusk projecting from
its upper jaw, and from which it derives its popular name, has not
yet been clearly ascertained, some holding it to be an instrument of
defense, while others suppose it to be only an ornament or mark of the
superior dignity of the sex to which it has been awarded.
[Illustration: 35. THE NARWHAL.]
Among the numerous dolphins which people the Arctic and Subarctic seas,
the beluga (_Delphinus leucas_), improperly called the white whale, is
one of the most interesting. When young it has a brown color, which
gradually changes into a perfect white. It attains a length of from
twelve to twenty feet, has no dorsal fin, a strong tail three feet
broad, and a round head with a broad truncated snout. Beyond 56° of
latitude it is frequently seen in large shoals, particularly near the
estuaries of the large Siberian and North American rivers, which it
often ascends to a considerable distance in pursuit of the salmon. A
troop of belugas diving out of the dark waves of the Arctic Sea is said
to afford a magnificent spectacle. Their white color appears dazzling,
from the contrast of the sombre background, as they dart about with
arrow-like velocity.
The black dolphin (_Globicephalus globiceps_) is likewise very common
in the Arctic seas, both beyond Bering’s Straits and between Greenland
and Spitzbergen, whence it frequently makes excursions to the south.
It grows to the length of twenty-four feet, and is about ten feet in
circumference. The skin, like that of the dolphin tribe in general, is
smooth, resembling oiled silk; the color a bluish-black on the back,
and generally whitish on the belly; the blubber is three or four inches
thick.
The full-grown have generally twenty-two or twenty-four teeth in each
jaw; and when the mouth is shut, the teeth lock between one another,
like the teeth of a trap. The dorsal fin is about fifteen inches high,
the tail five feet broad; the pectoral fins are as many, long and
comparatively narrow; so that, armed with such excellent paddles, the
black dolphin is inferior to none of his relatives in swiftness. Of an
eminently social disposition, these dolphins sometimes congregate in
herds of many hundreds, under the guidance of several old experienced
males, whom the rest follow like a flock of sheep--a property from
which the animal is called in Shetland the “ca’ing whale.” No cetacean
strands more frequently than the black dolphin, and occasionally large
herds have been driven on the shores of Iceland, Norway, and the
Orkney, Shetland and Faeroe islands, where their capture is hailed as
a godsend. The intelligence that a shoal of ca’ing whales or grinds
has been seen approaching the coast, creates great excitement among
the otherwise phlegmatic inhabitants of the Faeroe Islands. The whole
neighborhood, old and young, is instantly in motion, and soon numerous
boats shoot off from shore to intercept the retreat of the dolphins.
Slowly and steadily they are driven toward the coast; the phalanx of
their enemies draws closer and closer together; terrified by stones
and blows, they run ashore, and lie gasping as the flood recedes. Then
begins the work of death, amid the loud shouts of the executioners and
the furious splashings of the victims. In this manner more than 800
grinds were massacred on August 16, 1776; and during the four summer
months that Langbye sojourned on the island in 1817, 623 were driven
on shore, and served to pay one-half of the imported corn. But, on the
other hand, many years frequently pass without yielding one single
black whale to the tender mercies of the islanders.
The ferocious orc, or grampus (_Delphinus orca_), is the tiger of the
Arctic seas. Black above, white beneath, it is distinguished by its
large dorsal fin, which curves backward toward the tail, and rises to
the height of two feet or more. Measuring no less than twenty-five
feet in length and twelve or thirteen in girth, of a courage equal to
its strength, and armed with formidable teeth, thirty in each jaw,
the grampus is the dread of the seals, whom it overtakes in spite of
their rapid flight; and the whale himself would consider it as his
most formidable enemy, were it not for the persecutions of man. The
grampus generally ploughs the seas in small troops of four or five,
following each other in close single file, and alternately disappearing
and rising so as to resemble the undulatory motions of one large
serpentiform animal.
The family of the seals has also numerous and mighty representatives
in the Arctic waters. In the sea of Bering we meet with the formidable
sea-lion and the valuable sea-bear, while the harp-seal, the bearded
seal, and the hispid seals (_Phoca grœnlandica_, _barbata_, _hispida_),
spreading from the Parry Islands to Novaja Zemlya, yield the tribute
of their flesh to numerous wild tribes, and that of their skins to the
European hunter.
Few Arctic animals are more valuable to man, or more frequently
mentioned in Polar voyages than the walrus or morse (_Trichechus
rosmarus_), which, though allied to the seals, differs greatly from
them by the development of the canines of the upper jaw, which form
two enormous tusks projecting downward to the length of two feet.
The morse is one of the largest quadrupeds existing, as it attains a
length of twenty feet, and a weight of from fifteen hundred to two
thousand pounds. In uncouthness of form it surpasses even the ungainly
hippopotamus. It has a small head with a remarkably thick upper lip,
covered with large pellucid whiskers or bristles; the neck is thick
and short; the naked gray or red-brown skin hangs loosely on the
ponderous and elongated trunk; and the short feet terminate in broad
fin-like paddles, resembling large ill-fashioned flaps of leather.
Its movements on land are extremely slow and awkward, resembling those
of a huge caterpillar, but in the water it has all the activity of the
seals, or even surpasses them in speed.
[Illustration: 36. WALRUSES ON THE ICE.]
Gregarious, like the seals and many of the dolphins, the walruses love
to lie on the ice or on the sand-banks, closely huddled together. On
the spot where a walrus lands, others are sure to follow; and when
the first comers block the shore, those which arrive later, instead of
landing on a free spot farther on, prefer giving their friends who are
in the way a gentle push with their tusks so as to induce them to make
room.
Timorous and almost helpless on land, where, in spite of its formidable
tusks, it falls an easy prey to the attacks of man, the walrus evinces
a greater degree of courage in the water, where it is able to make a
better use of the strength and weapons bestowed upon it by nature.
Many instances are known where walruses, which never attack but when
provoked, have turned upon their assailants, or have even assembled
from a distance to assist a wounded comrade.
Like the seals, the walrus is easily tamed, and of a most affectionate
temper. This was shown in a remarkable manner by a young walrus brought
alive from Archangel to St. Petersburg in 1829. Its keeper, Madame
Dennebecq, having tended it with the greatest care, the grateful animal
expressed its pleasure whenever she came near it by an affectionate
grunt. It not only followed her with its eyes, but was never happier
than when allowed to lay its head in her lap. The tenderness was
reciprocal, and Madame Dennebecq used to talk of her walrus with the
same warmth of affection as if it had been a pet lapdog.
That parental love should be highly developed in animals thus
susceptible of friendship may easily be imagined. Mr. Lamont, an
English gentleman whom the love of sport led a few years since to
Spitzbergen, relates the case of a wounded walrus who held a very young
calf under her right arm. Whenever the harpoon was raised against it,
the mother carefully shielded it with her own body. The countenance of
this poor animal was never to be forgotten: that of the calf expressive
of abject terror, and yet of such a boundless confidence in its
mother’s power of protecting it, as it swam along under her wing, and
the old cow’s face showing such reckless defiance for all that could be
done to herself, and yet such terrible anxiety as to the safety of her
calf. This parental affection is shamefully misused by man, for it is a
common artifice of the walrus-hunters to catch a young animal and make
it grunt, in order to attract a herd.
The walrus is confined to the coasts of the Arctic regions, unless when
drift-ice, or some other accident, carries it away into the open sea.
Its chief resorts are Spitzbergen, Nova Zembla, North Greenland, the
shores of Hudson’s and Baffin’s bays; and on the opposite side of the
Polar Ocean, the coasts of Bering’s Sea, and to the north of Bering’s
Straits, the American and Asiatic shores from Point Barrow to Cape
North. It has nowhere been found on the coasts of Siberia from the
mouth of the Jenisei to the last-mentioned promontory, and on those of
America from Point Barrow to Lancaster Sound; so that it inhabits two
distinct regions, separated from each other by vast extents of coast.
Its food seems to consist principally of marine plants and shell-fish,
though Scoresby relates that he found the remains of fishes, or even of
seals, in its stomach.
As the Polar bear is frequently found above a hundred miles from the
nearest land, upon loose ice steadily drifting into the sea, it seems
but fair to assign him a place among the marine animals of the Arctic
zone. He hunts by scent, and is constantly running across and against
the wind, which prevails from the northward, so that the same instinct
which directs his search for prey also serves the important purpose
of guiding him in the direction of the land and more solid ice. His
favorite food is the seal, which he surprises crouching down with his
fore paws doubled underneath, and pushing himself noiselessly forward
with his hinder legs until within a few yards, when he springs upon his
victim, whether in the water or upon the ice. He can swim at the rate
of three miles an hour, and can dive to a considerable distance. Though
he attacks man when hungry, wounded, or provoked, he will not injure
him when food more to his liking is at hand. Sir Francis M’Clintock
relates an anecdote of a native of Upernavik who was out one dark
winter’s day visiting his seal-nets. He found a seal entangled, and
whilst kneeling down over it upon the ice to get it clear, he received
a slap on the back--from his companion as he supposed; but a second
and heavier blow made him look smartly round. He was horror-stricken
to see a peculiarly grim old bear instead of his comrade. Without
taking further notice of the man, Bruin tore the seal out of the net,
and began his supper. He was not interrupted, nor did the man wait
to see the meal finished, fearing, no doubt, that his uninvited and
unceremonious guest might keep a corner for him.
Many instances have been observed of the peculiar sagacity of the Polar
bear. Scoresby relates that the captain of a whaler, being anxious to
procure a bear without wounding the skin, made trial of the stratagem
of laying the noose of a rope in the snow, and placing a piece of
_kreng_, or whale’s carcass, within it. A bear, ranging the neighboring
ice, was soon enticed to the spot. Approaching the bait, he seized it
in his mouth; but his foot, at the same moment, by a jerk of the rope,
being entangled in the noose, he pushed it off with the adjoining paw,
and deliberately retired. After having eaten the piece he carried away
with him, he returned. The noose, with another piece of kreng, being
then replaced, he pushed the rope aside, and again walked triumphantly
off with the kreng. A third time the noose was laid, and this time
the rope was buried in the snow, and the bait laid in a deep hole dug
in the centre. But Bruin, after snuffing about the place for a few
minutes, scraped the snow away with his paw, threw the rope aside, and
escaped unhurt with his prize.
The she-bear is taught by a wonderful instinct to shelter her young
under the snow. Towards the month of December she retreats to the
side of a rock, where, by dint of scraping and allowing the snow to
fall upon her, she forms a cell in which to reside during the winter.
There is no fear that she should be stifled for want of air, for the
warmth of her breath always keeps a small passage open, and the snow,
instead of forming a thick uniform sheet, is broken by a little hole,
round which is collected a mass of glittering hoar-frost, caused by the
congelation of the breath. Within this strange nursery she produces
her young, and remains with them beneath the snow until the month of
March, when she emerges into the open air with her baby bears. As the
time passes on, the breath of the family, together with the warmth
exhaled from their bodies, serves to enlarge the cell, so that with
their increasing dimensions the accommodation is increased to suit
them. As the only use of the snow-burrow is to shelter the young, the
male bears do not hibernate like the females, but roam freely about
during the winter months. Before retiring under the snow, the bear
eats enormously, and, driven by an unfailing instinct, resorts to
the most nutritious diet, so that she becomes prodigiously fat, thus
laying in an internal store of alimentary matter which enables her not
only to support her own life, but to suckle her young during her long
seclusion, without taking a morsel of food. By an admirable provision
of nature, the young are of wonderfully small dimensions when compared
with the parent; and as their growth, as long as they remain confined
in their crystal nursery, is remarkably slow, they consequently need
but little food and space.
[Illustration: 37. HOME OF THE POLAR BEAR.]
The Polar bear is armed with formidable weapons, and a proportionate
power to use them. His claws are two inches in length, and his canine
teeth, exclusive of the part in the jaw, about an inch and a half.
Thus the hoards of provisions which are frequently deposited by Arctic
voyagers to provide for some future want, have no greater enemy than
the Polar bear. “The final cache,” says Kane, “which I relied so much
upon, was entirely destroyed. It had been built with extreme care, of
rocks which had been assembled by very heavy labor, and adjusted with
much aid, often, from capstan-bars as levers. The entire construction
was, so far as our means permitted, most effective and resisting. Yet
these tigers of the ice seemed hardly to have encountered an obstacle.
Not a morsel of pemmican remained, except in the iron cases, which
being round, with conical ends, defied both claws and teeth. They had
rolled and pawed them in every direction, tossing them about like
footballs, although over eighty pounds in weight. An alcohol can,
strongly iron-bound, was dashed into small fragments, and a tin can of
liquor smashed and twisted almost into a ball. The claws of the beast
had perforated the metal and torn it up as with a chisel. They were too
dainty for salt meats; ground coffee they had an evident relish for;
old canvas was a favorite, for some reason or other; even our flag,
which had been reared ‘to take possession’ of the waste, was gnawed
down to the very staff. They had made a regular frolic of it; rolling
our bread-barrels over the ice; and, unable to masticate our heavy
India-rubber cloth, they had tied it up in unimaginable hard knots.”
[Illustration: 38. THE GULL.]
Numbers of sea-birds are found breeding along the Arctic shores as
far as man has hitherto penetrated; some even keep the sea in the
high latitudes all the winter, wherever open water exists. On the
most northern rocks the razorbill rears its young, and the fulmar and
Ross’s gull have been seen in lanes of water beyond 82° lat. As the sun
gains in power, enormous troops of puffins, looms, dovekies, rotges,
skuas, burgermasters, Sabine’s gulls, kittiwakes, ivory gulls, and
Arctic terns, return to the north. There they enjoy the long summer
day, and revel in the abundance of the fish-teeming waters, bringing
life and animation into solitudes seldom or perhaps never disturbed
by the presence of man, and mingling their wild screams with the
hoarse-resounding surge or the howling of the storm. In many localities
they breed in such abundance, that it may be said, almost without
exaggeration, that they darken the sun when they fly, and hide the
waters when they swim.
[Illustration: 39. LAVA-FIELDS.]