Where the seals are very numerous the sealers stop not to flay those they have killed, but set off to another ice-field to kill more, merely leaving one man behind to take off the skins and fat. When the condition of the ice forbids the use of boats, the hunter is obliged to pursue the seals over it, jumping from piece to piece, until he succeeds in taking one, which he then stops to flay and flense, or to remove the skin and fat. This sometimes is horrible business, since many of the seals are merely stunned, and occasionally recover after they have been flayed and flensed. In this condition, too shockingly mangled for description, they have been seen to make battle, and even to swim off.
The Esquimaux hunt the seal in various modes, according to circumstances. When the breathing place (a hole made in the ice by the seal) is discovered, the hunter raises near it a small wall about four feet high, of slabs of snow, to shelter himself from the wind, and sits under the lee of his snow shelter, having deposited his spear, lines and other implements upon several little forked sticks set up in the snow, in order to avoid making the slightest noise in moving them when wanted. The most curious precaution, taken with a similar intention, is that of tying his own knees together with a thong to prevent any rustling of his dress, which would alarm the seal. In this situation the Esquimaux will frequently sit for many hours when the thermometer is below zero, attentively listening to ascertain whether the animal is working below.
When he thinks the hole is almost completed, he carefully raises his spear, to which the line is previously tied, and the moment the breathing of the seal is distinctly heard, the ice being then of course very thin, he strikes the spear into him with both hands, and cuts away the ice with his knife to repeat his blow. At other times, having enlarged the breathing place, he takes his position behind the shelter, and the animal, when he next comes to the hole, rises fearlessly out of the water, exposing his head and shoulders, and repeats this action with increased confidence. As he is not in haste to dive again, the hunter now starts up suddenly and drives his spear forcibly into him. Another method adopted consists in covering the breathing hole with light snow, and making an opening through the top of it with the spear handle about as large as the mouth of a bottle. The hunter then withdraws the spear and takes his place behind his snow-screen, listening vigilantly until he hears the seal breathing beneath the snow, when he silently rises and plunges his weapon through the snow-covering into the body of the seal. The moment the seal is struck, the hunter endeavors to catch the line behind one leg to act as a strong check; and as an additional security, a hitch is taken round the ring finger, which is sometimes either dreadfully lacerated or entirely torn off by the violent struggles of a large seal. The animal is then stabbed until dead; the hole being enlarged, it is drawn out on the ice, where it speedily freezes and is in condition to be drawn home.
I have told you, my son, that the seal furnishes the natives of those cold climates with nearly all the necessaries of life, and I will now give you a description of Capt. Lyon’s visit to one of their feasts.
“On the return of a party of successful seal-hunters,” he says, “blood, blubber, entrails, skins and flesh, was sociably intermixed in savoury heaps. Abundant smoking messes were in preparation, and even the dogs looked happy as they uninterruptedly licked the faces of the children, who were covered with blood and grease from the chin to the eyes. Universal merriment prevailed, and such men and children as could bear more food stood lounging round the women, who sat sucking their fingers and cooking as fast as possible. While the messes were preparing the children solaced themselves by eating such parts of the raw uncleaned entrails as their young teeth could tear, and those morsels which proved too tough were delivered over to their mothers, who soon reduced them to a proper size and consistency for their tender offspring.
“At the distribution of the contents of one of the pots I was complimented with a fine piece of half stewed seal’s flesh, from which the kind donor, a most unsavory looking old lady, with the most obliging politeness, had first licked the gravy and dirt, and bitten it all round in order to ascertain the most tender part on which I should make the first attack. My refusal of this delicacy did not offend, and we had much laughing on the subject, particularly when the old woman, with well feigned disgust and many wry faces, contrived to finish it herself. In my rambles on this day of plenty I found, beyond a doubt, that the women do not eat with the men, but waiting till they are first satisfied, then enjoy a feast by themselves. In the meantime, however, the females who superintend the cooking have the privilege of licking the gravy from the lumps of meat as they are taken out and before they are presented to their husbands. Both sexes eat in the same manner, although not in equal proportions; the females very seldom, and the men very frequently stuffing until they become quite stupified. A lump of meat being given to the nearest person, he first sucks it all round and then pushes as much as he can into his mouth, cutting it from the larger piece close to his lips, to the great danger of them and his nose. The meat then passes round until it is consumed, and the person before whom it stops is entitled to the first bite of the next morsel. In this manner a meal continues a long time, as each eats or rather bolts several pounds, and the pots are in consequence frequently replenished. In the intermediate time the convives suck their fingers or indulge in a few lumps of delicate raw blubber. The swallows of the Esquimaux are of such a marvellous capacity that a piece of flesh of the size of an orange very rarely receives half a dozen bites before it is bolted, and that without any apparent exertion. The rich soup of the meat is handed round at the close of the repast, and each takes a sup in turn until it is finished, when the pot is passed to the good woman of the house, who licks it carefully clean and then prepares to make a mess for herself. On all occasions the children are stuffed almost to suffocation. The meals being finished, every one scrapes the grease, &c. from his face into his mouth, and the fingers are then cleaned by sucking.”
The food of the Esquimaux is cooked by the aid of a lamp, which is supplied with seal oil, the wick being composed of moss. On this lamp are they also dependent for warmth in their huts, which are made of snow, as well as for their supply of water to drink, which, during a great part of the year is only to be obtained by melting snow. A scarcity of seals, therefore, is accompanied by a series of ills, the hut is deprived of light and warmth, and the sufferings of famine are increased by the torment of thirst, against which they have no other resource under such circumstances except to eat the snow, which affords but a partial relief. In judging of the filth and voracity of these poor creatures, we must ever bear in mind the circumstances which during so much of the time render water almost unattainable, except to quench their thirst, as well as the frequent and severe starvation to which they are subjected.
The Esquimaux apply the skins of seals to various purposes, amongst which the most important is the construction of their boats. The small boat to carry but one person is called kayak, and has been aptly compared in shape to a weaver’s shuttle, having the head and stern equally sharp. There is an opening or hole in which the rower sits, having a rim or projection to which a part of the dress may be fastened in such a manner as entirely to exclude the water. The weight of the whole does not exceed fifty or sixty pounds, so that the boat may be readily carried by the owner on his head, and from the peculiar form of the rim, without applying his hands.
The Esquimaux are very proud of their boats; they place a warm skin in the bottom to sit upon, and the position of the paddler is with the legs extended and the feet pointed forwards. Whenever any weight is to be raised, or the stowage of the boat to be changed, two kayaks lie together, and the paddles of each being laid across, a steady double boat is formed. When not paddling the occupant must preserve a very nice balance, and a tremulous motion is always to be observed in the boat. The Esquimaux in the vicinity of Winter Island have not the art of regaining the upright position when overturned by a dexterous use of the paddle. An inflated seal bladder is a constant appendage to the canoe equipage; the weapons are kept in their places on the upper surface of the boats by small lines of whalebone, tightly stretched across so as to receive the points or handles of the spears beneath them. The stem or stern of the boat is frequently stowed with flesh, birds or eggs; a seal, notwithstanding its roundness and liability to roll, is so carefully balanced on the boat as seldom to require being tied on. When going before the wind while a smart swell is running, the kayak requires the nicest management, as the slightest inattention would expose the broadside to the sea and be followed by immediate peril to this frail vessel. The extreme velocity with which the kayak is impelled, and the dexterity with which it is turned and guided, render it a very interesting object.