But despite Jim’s encouraging words, Tom’s knees were shaky as he took his place in the boat assigned him, slipped the rudder in place, and sat waiting the captain’s order to cast off.
“When you get near the herd, spread out,” directed Captain Edwards, “and go in as near the same time as you can. Pick the biggest bulls and aim for the ear or neck close to the head. Take them that’s near the water first, and if one of ’em comes for you, keep off and shoot him. Don’t take no chances—a bull walrus can stave a boat’s easy as a egg shell.”
A moment later the boats were cast off, sails were trimmed, and the little fleet went dancing across the calm sea, each boat towing several kayaks with their Eskimo occupants behind it.
Nearer and nearer they approached the shore. The schooner was a mere speck in the distance, and the captain’s boat, guided by a wrinkled old Eskimo, swung more towards the south. Presently they passed a jutting, rocky cape, about whose shores the drift ice was piled high, and entered a tiny bottle-shaped bay. And at the sight which greeted them, the boys exclaimed in wonder.
Everywhere upon the shingle and the grounded cakes of ice were the bulky, dull-brown, clumsy-looking walrus. There were scores—hundreds of the creatures. Giant bulls with enormous, wrinkled, warty-skinned necks and gleaming ivory tusks; smaller, light-colored cows, and little seal-like pups. The pups and cows were some distance from the water’s edge, the younger bulls were scattered in groups near by and along the shore. Resting on rocks or ice cakes with their tiny heads raised high, were the old veterans of a thousand fights, the giant, scarred, elephantine bulls.
Instantly, as with one accord, sails were lowered, the kayaks were cast off and, under oars and paddles, the fleet of boats and canoes swept upon the herd. For a moment the bulls stared wonderingly at the unexpected visitors. Then a low, growling, barking roar echoed across the bay. The great creatures wheeled about to face the intruders and, shaking their tusked heads threateningly, prepared to defend the cows and their young.
The next instant, rifles and muskets roared. The boys glimpsed several big bulls as they swayed and sank lifeless. They heard the shouts of the excited men, the shriller cries of the Eskimos, and then forgot all else as their boat approached a gigantic bull walrus who had dragged himself to the very verge of an ice cake, and was on the point of diving into the sea. Taking careful aim, Jim fired; but at the very instant he pulled the trigger, the boat lurched, his rifle wavered, and the bull with a roar plunged with a tremendous splash into the water.
“Gosh, I missed!” cried Jim.
“There’s another!” screamed Tom. “Get him!”