At a later period a funny incident occurred. We were at Marble Island.
The weather was calm, so that seal heads were sprinkled plentifully
upon the surface of the water. This inspired Lieutenant Schwatka to
try his skill. So, fetching his rifle from the cabin and wiping his
eye-glasses, he shot at a large head about a hundred yards from the
vessel. The seal made a desperate effort to get down in a hurry, but
was evidently badly hurt, and showed a good deal of blood before it
accomplished its descent. Presently it came up again, and a boat was
lowered to pick it up, but it managed to escape capture, though it was
evident that it would soon die. After breakfast the next morning, when
we went on deck, the water was still quite smooth, and presently we
were surprised to see what appeared to be a dead seal floating in on
the tide. There was no doubt that this was the seal that Lieutenant
Schwatka had killed the previous night, and again the boat was lowered
to secure it. No precautions were deemed necessary to avoid making a
noise, and when the boat came alongside one of the men threw down his
oar, rolled up his sleeves, and stooped down to lift the carcass on
board. His surprise may be imagined when, after passing his arms around
it and proceeding to lift it, he felt it suddenly begin to struggle and
slip from his hold and dive below the surface, while a loud shout went
up from the spectators. It was not Lieutenant Schwatka's seal, but an
entirely well one that was sound asleep when it felt the rude embrace
of the sailor.
The seal is an exceedingly useful animal to the Esquimau, for it not
only supplies him with food and clothing, but its blubber furnishes the
fuel for cooking its flesh, lighting the igloo, and drying its skin
before making into clothing. The skin also is made into dog harness and
traces, whip lashes, boots and shoes, gun-covers, water-pails, bags for
the storing of oil and blubber, and his boats are covered with it.
Seal-skin bags, inflated and fastened to walrus lines, are used in
hunting walrus and whales, and finally, the summer dwelling of the
Esquimau is a tent made of seal-skin. A single tent, or tupic, as it
is called by them, is composed of from five to ten skins, which are
split--that is, the mumme is split off and dried separately from the
skin. The rear portion of the tent is made of the skins with the hairy
side out, while the front is made of the transparent mumme, which
admits the light almost as freely as if made of ground glass. The skin
portion is impervious to water, but the mumme admits the rain about as
readily as it does the sunlight. This is no objection, in the mind of
the Esquimau, for it is something he is thoroughly accustomed to. In the
summer his tent is wet with rain, and in the winter, whenever the air
in the igloo is raised to an endurable temperature, the roof melts and
is constantly dripping ice-water down his back or upon his blankets.
CHAPTER XII.
WALRUS DIET.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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