The Eskimo sealer knows all this natural history as he knows that of every other denizen of the Arctic, and founds upon it his methods in hunting.
Directly he has detected the locality of a seal’s nursing cavern under his feet, either by the presence of a slight depression in the snow, or by the pointing of the dog, he arms himself with a nixie, or hook on the end of a long shaft, and gathering himself together makes a tremendous jump into the air, coming down with all his weight and force upon the spot. He [[92]]jumps again and again, until at last the snow caves in and blocks the hole below, cutting off the baby seal’s retreat into the sea beneath. Then he prods and probes among the débris of the cavern for the imprisoned creature, locates it, hooks it out, and kills it with one blow on the head. After that, there is the mother to be caught. She is probably lurking under the ice nearby. So, before he kills the little one, the hunter ties his sealing line to one of its flippers and pushes it through the diving hole into the water. The mother at once tries to come to its rescue, only to encounter her own devoted death. She, too, is hooked, dragged out, and despatched.
Young Seal Hunting in May.
An Eskimo hunter breaking through into a young seal’s dwelling. This is done by jumping upon the top of the dwelling and breaking in the roof which, falling down, fills up the hole in the ice and prevents the mother from rescuing the young one. The hunter then inserts his hook and secures the young seal.
The seal has other enemies to contend with besides man. The bear has a keen scent, a heavy paw, a huge [[93]]appetite, and a peculiar relish for her young. He, too, wanders out on the sealing grounds at the proper season, and having found a cavern, sets his two huge forepaws on the snow and, with one mighty push, breaks it all in. He easily hooks the helpless little creature beneath, and devours it with ursine relish.
Or it may be that an arctic fox decides to spend a day seal hunting. He glides over the snow, an almost invisible shape, like nothing so much as a white wraith of the desolation around. His scent having guided him to a likely spot, and being unable, like the bear, to do his housebreaking by mere brute force, he adopts a peculiarly wicked plan of his own. Planting all four feet together pivot-fashion, he spins himself round and round, his claws boring a way through the snow, until he corkscrews his unwelcome presence into the seal’s retreat. The baby, again, falls a helpless victim.
This seal hunting of the tribesmen, far out at sea in the camp on the ice, is not without its dangers, as the following tale will show.
For several weeks all had gone prosperously with the sealers. The weather had been good, and the young seals plentiful. Loaded sleds had been continually going to and fro between the winter village on shore and the village on the ice, bearing meat and skins to the old folk at home. Contentment and jollity reigned, for had not the Conjurors guaranteed prosperity and good luck, and were their prophecies not amply fulfilled? [[94]]
But, one day, the sky became overcast. Hour after hour it grew more heavily banked with forbidding cloud, whilst from seaward came a low roar, the presage of an arctic storm. The sealers hastily retreated to their dwellings, and blocked up their doors, and prepared to wait. Evening drew nigh, and the tempest rose. An occasional quiver of the icy floor told of the pounding of heavy breakers at the floe edge, and a portentous shiver now and again spoke of masses of it being broken away.