The dog is essential to the existence of the Innuits. As they have never domesticated the reindeer, without the dog they could not travel from place to place, which they are obliged to do in order to follow the migrations of the seal and walrus, upon which they mainly subsist. Without him they could never find out the holes in the ice through which the seal comes up to breathe in the winter. Their dogs seem to be much more intelligent and docile than those of any other of the Polar tribes. When one is found to be more than usually intelligent he is carefully trained as a seal-dog. When the dog scents a seal-hole, which he does though it is covered deep under the snow, he unerringly follows the scent to the very spot.
149. SPEARING THROUGH THE SNOW.
The Innuit proceeds to “prospect” by driving the slender spear through the snow until he finds the small opening in the ice which leads to the main hole. He then withdraws the spear, taking the utmost care not to disturb the snow, and seats himself close by to await the coming of the seal. He watches for hours, and sometimes for days, before he hears the welcome “blow.” At the second or third puff, he knows that the nose of the seal is at the bottom of the breathing-hole, perhaps two yards below the spot where he is standing. The spear must be thrust with perfect accuracy; for an error of a quarter of an inch on either side would miss the hole, and the spear-point would strike the solid ice, and the seal would be away in an instant. If the blow is well-aimed and at the right instant, it pierces the head of the unseen seal, who instantly dives, and runs out the eight or ten fathoms of line which, fastened to the harpoon, is tied around the waist of the Innuit. The snow is then dug away, the breathing-hole enlarged, so as to permit the seal to be drawn through.
150. DOGS AND BEAR.
The dogs also take special delight in hunting the bear. When a team scent a bear it is impossible to restrain them. Once when Hall was on a journey a bear with her cub was seen on the ice at the foot of a high mountain. When within two hundred yards, the leading dog was cut loose, and he made straight for the bear; one by one the others were set free from the sledge, and all were in hot pursuit. One dog set upon the cub, and finally separated it from its mother; another caught the dam; and both rolled down a precipice, up which the bear scrambled again and escaped, for it was so steep that the dogs could not follow. All the dogs, eleven in number, now set upon the cub. Hall coming up, the young brute made at him; he ran it through with his spear. He expected that the Innuits would applaud his courage and dexterity; but they shook their heads and said nothing at the time. They soon showed the utmost determination to leave the neighborhood, and explained by saying that the old bear would come back at night, smell the blood of the cub, and become enraged, and kill them all. The Innuits avoid killing a young bear until they have dispatched the old one, for they say that knowing the death of her young makes her a hundred times more terrible. Although the liver of the seal is held to be a great delicacy, the Innuits never eat that or the head of the bear; nor, if they can prevent it, will they suffer their dogs to do so.
151. BARBEKARK AND THE REINDEER.
The Innuit dogs also sometimes hunt the reindeer. Hall’s dogs one day gave chase to a deer, and one of them, Barbekark, sprung at its throat, and bit through skin, windpipe, jugular, and tongue, taking out the piece as clearly as though it had been cut with a knife. Barbekark was brought to the United States by Mr. Hall, and died there. His stuffed skin showed him to be a noble beast of unusual size.