One evening, while the Dorothea and Trent were at anchor in Magdalena Bay, Spitzbergen, several herds of these animals had crawled upon the ice, to enjoy the fine weather and rest themselves. The boats, properly equipped, and manned with some of the officers and seamen, pushed off in pursuit of them. The first herd which was selected disappointed the sportsmen, but another was so intent upon its gambols, that the sentinel absolutely forgot his duty, and several of the crew managed to effect a landing upon the ice without any alarm being given to the animals; as soon, however, as the first musket was fired, the affrighted group made such a desperate rush towards the edge of the ice that they nearly overturned the whole of the assailing party, purposely stationed there to intercept them. The seamen, finding this charge more formidable than they expected, were obliged to separate to allow their opponents to pass through their ranks; and being thus in their turn taken by surprise, they suffered them, almost unmolested, to perform their somersaults towards the sea. What with their uncertain movements, the extreme toughness of their skin, and the respectful distance at which the men were obliged to keep, to avoid the lashing of the head and tusks of the animals, it was indeed no easy task to inflict any serious injury upon them. One, however, was desperately wounded in the head with a ball, and the mate of the brig, being determined if possible to secure his prey, resolutely struck his tomahawk into his skull; but the enraged animal, with a twist of its head, sent the weapon whirling in the air, and then lashing his neck, as though he would destroy with his immense tusks everything that came in his way, effected his escape to the water. The seamen followed and pushed off in their boats; but the walruses, finding themselves more at home now than on the ice, in their turn became the assailants. They rose in great numbers about the boats, snorting with rage, and rushing at the boats, and it was with the utmost difficulty they were prevented upsetting or staving them by placing their tusks upon the gunwales, or by striking at them with their heads. It was the opinion of the seamen that in this assault the walruses were led on by one animal in particular, a much larger and more formidable beast than any of the others, and they directed their efforts more particularly towards him; but he withstood all the blows of their tomahawks without flinching, and his tough hide resisted the entry of the whale lances, which were unfortunately not very sharp, and soon bent double. The herd was so numerous, and their attacks so incessant, that there was not time to load a musket, which indeed was the only effectual mode of seriously injuring them. The purser fortunately had his gun loaded, and the whole now being nearly exhausted with chopping and striking at their assailants, he snatched it up, and thrusting the muzzle down the throat of the leader, fired into his bowels. The wound proved mortal and the animal fell back amongst his companions, who immediately desisted from the attack, assembled round him, and in a moment quitted the boat, swimming away as hard as they could with their leader, whom they actually bore up with their tusks, and assiduously preserved from sinking. Whether this singular and compassionate conduct, which in all probability was done to prevent suffocation, arose from the sagacity of the animals, it is difficult to say; but there is every probability of it, and the fact must form an interesting trait in the history of the habits of the species. After the discharge of the purser's gun, there remained of all the herd only one little assailant, which the seamen, out of compassion, were unwilling to molest. This young animal had been observed fighting by the side of the leader, and from the protection which was afforded it by its courageous patron, was imagined to be one of its young. This little animal had no tusks, but it swam violently against the boat, and struck her with its head, and indeed would have stove her, had it not been kept off by whale lances, some of which made deep incisions in its young sides. These, however, had not any immediate effect; the attack was continued, and the enraged little animal, though disfigured with wounds, even crawled upon the ice in pursuit of the seamen, who had relanded there, until one of them, out of compassion, put an end to its sufferings.
The valuable ivory of its tusks, which is more solid, finer grained, and whiter than that of the elephant, exposes the walrus to the attacks of man, no less than his thick hide, from which a strong elastic leather is made, and his abundance of flesh and blubber. The former are sought by civilised nations, while the latter forms the chief food of the northern Esquimaux and of the Tschutchi on the western shore of Behring's Straits.
Every year a troop of Aleuts land on the northern coast of the peninsula of Aliaska, where the young walruses assemble in great numbers during the summer, having most likely been driven away by the older males from their more northern haunts. The walruses herd on the lowest edge of the coast which is within reach of the high spring-tides. When the Aleuts prepare to attack the animals, they take leave of each other as if they were going to face death, being no less afraid of the mighty tusks of the walruses than of the awkwardness of their own companions. Armed with lances and heavy axes, they stealthily approach the walruses, and having disposed their ranks, suddenly fall upon them with loud shouts, and endeavour to drive them from the sea, taking care that none of them escape into the water, as in this case the rest would irresistibly follow and precipitate the huntsmen along with them. As soon as the walruses have been driven far enough up the strand, the Aleuts attack them with their lances, endeavouring to strike at them in places where the hide is not so thick, and then pressing with all their might against the spear, to render the wound deep and deadly. The slaughtered animals fall one over the other and form large heaps, while the huntsmen, uttering furious shouts and intoxicated with carnage, wade through the bloody mire. They then cleave the jaws and take out the tusks, which are the chief objects of the slaughter of several thousands of walruses, since neither their flesh nor their fat is made use of in the colony. Sir George Simpson, in his "Overland Journey Round the World," relates that the bales of fur sent to Kjachta are covered with walrus hide; then it is made to protect the tea chests, which find their way to Moscow; and after all these wanderings, the far-travelled skin returns again to its native seas, when, cut into small pieces and stamped with a mark, it serves as a medium of exchange. The carcases of the wholesale slaughter are left on the shore to be washed away by the spring-tides, which soon erase every vestige of the bloody scene, and in the following year the inexhaustible north sends new victims to the coast.
Kane gives us a vivid description of a walrus hunt in Smith's Sound, most likely the most northern point of the earth inhabited by man. "After a while Myouk became convinced, from signs or sounds, that walruses were waiting for him in a small space of recently open water that was glazed over with a few days' growth of ice, and, moving gently on, soon heard the characteristic bellow of a bull,—the walrus, like some bipeds, being fond of his own music. The party now formed in single file, and moved on in serpentine approach to the recently frozen ice spots, which were surrounded by older and firmer ice. When within half a mile the line broke, and each man crawled towards a separate pool. In a few minutes the walruses were in sight, five in number, rising at intervals through the ice in a body with an explosive puff that might have been heard for miles. Two large grim-looking males made themselves conspicuous as leaders of the group. When the walrus is above the water, the hunter lies flat and motionless; as it begins to sink, he is alert and ready for a spring. The animal's head is hardly below the water line, when every man advances in rapid run, and again, as if by instinct, before the beast returns, all are motionless behind protecting knolls of ice. In this way the Esquimaux have reached a plate of thin ice, hardly strong enough to bear them, at the very brink of the pool. Myouk, till now phlegmatic, seems to waken with excitement. A coil of walrus hide lies by his side, and he grasps the harpoon, ready for action. Presently the water is in motion, and, puffing with pent-up respiration, the walrus rises before him. Myouk rises slowly, the right arm thrown back, the left flat at his side. The walrus looks about him, shaking water from his crest, Myouk throws up his left arm, and the animal, rising breast-high, fixes one look before he plunges. It has cost him all that curiosity can cost, for the harpoon lies buried under his left flipper." The wounded animal makes a desperate spring, and endeavours to lift itself upon the ice, which breaks under its weight. These fruitless endeavours give its physiognomy a still more vengeful expression; its bellowing degenerates into a roar, and crimson foam gathers round its mouth.
Polar Bear (Ursus maritimus).
The Ice-Bear (Ursus maritimus) may also be reckoned among the marine animals, as the sea affords him by far the greater part of his food. From the common bear, whom he surpasses in strength and size, as he attains a length of nine feet, and a height of four, he not only distinguishes himself by his white sleek-haired fur, but also by a much longer neck. His half-webbed feet show at once that he is born for a sea life, and he is able to swim three miles an hour, and to dive for a considerable length of time. On land he runs as fast again as a man, and often surprises his prey, as his tread upon the snow is almost inaudible. He principally lives on fish, but also on seals, birds, foxes, reindeer, and even attacks man—particularly when pinched with hunger. But in his turn he falls a prey to the inhabitants of the Arctic regions, who eat the flesh, though it is very coarse, and use the skin for coverings of various kinds. He is a cunning hunter, though not always successful. Thus one sunshiny day, Admiral Beechey saw a large walrus rise in a pool of water not very far from where he stood. After looking around, the grim-visaged creature drew his greasy carcase upon the ice, where he rolled about for a time, and at length laid himself down to sleep. A bear, which had probably been observing his movements, crawled carefully upon the ice on the opposite side of the pool, and began to roll about also, but apparently more with design than amusement, progressively lessening the distance that intervened between him and his prey. The suspicious walrus drew himself up, preparatory to a precipitate retreat, when immediately the bear remained motionless, as if in the act of sleep; but after a time he began to lick his paws, and clean himself, and occasionally to encroach a little more upon his intended victim. This time, however, his cunning was useless, for the walrus suddenly plunged into the pool, and though the bear, throwing off all disguise, rushed to the spot and followed him in an instant into the water, he was most likely disappointed of a meal that would have made up for a long period of fasting. The ice-bear is everywhere at home within the Arctic circle, and particularly abounds on Spitzbergen and the other small islands of that sea. He sometimes comes floating on drift ice to the north coasts of Iceland, Norway, and Newfoundland, but is soon killed by the inhabitants.
