When the seal is satisfied, from a careful inspection, that no danger
threatens, its head drops down upon the ice and it indulges in a few
winks, but suddenly rises and gazes around if it hears the least noise
or sees the least motion anywhere. The hunter takes advantage of the
nap to hitch himself along by means of his right foot and left hand,
preserving his recumbent position all the time, and if detected by the
seal either stops suddenly and blows, or flops around like a seal
enjoying a sun bath, as his experience suggests. In this way he can
usually approach near enough to shoot his prey with a rifle, or strike
it with a seal spear or oo-nar. Often, however, just as he is about to
shoot or spear his game, it slips suddenly into the sea through its
hole, upon the very verge of which it rests, seldom venturing further
than a foot or two from its safe retreat. If they could only rest
contented with a fair shot, the Inuits would probably secure more game
than they now do, for the most of those I have seen them lose in this
way went down after the hunter had approached within easy range--say
twelve or fifteen yards. They are so anxious, however, to make a sure
thing of it that they often try to get too near. I have frequently
timed an Inuit as he started for a seal on the ice, and found it takes
about an hour from the time he starts in pursuit until the shot is
fired.
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