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series.

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THE WALRUS HUNTERS, A TALE OF LIFE ON THE ARCTIC SHORES OF CANADA, BY
R.M. BALLANTYNE.

CHAPTER ONE.

A ROMANCE OF THE ICE-WORLD.

A SURPRISE, A COMBAT, AND A FEED.

There is a river in America which flows to the north-westward of Great
Bear Lake, and helps to drain that part of the great wilderness into the
Arctic Sea.

It is an insignificant stream compared with such well-known waterways as
the Mackenzie and the Coppermine; nevertheless it is large enough to
entice the white-whale and the seal into its waters every spring, and it
becomes a resting-place for myriads of wild-fowl while on their passage
to and from the breeding-grounds of the Far North.

Greygoose River was the name given to it by the Dogrib Indians who dwelt
in its neighbourhood, and who were wont, every spring and autumn, to
descend its waters nearly to the sea in quest of game. The Eskimos,
who, coming from the mysterious north, were in the habit of ascending it
a short way during open water in pursuit of their peculiar prey, named
it Whale River.

The Indians and Eskimos did not often meet while on these trips. They
did not like meeting, because the result was apt to be disastrous.
Besides, the land was wide and the game plentiful enough for both, so
that they were not much tempted to risk a meeting. Occasionally,
however, meetings and encounters did take place, and sometimes bitter
feuds arose, but the possession of fire-arms by the Indians--who were
supplied by the fur-traders--rendered the Eskimos wary. Their
headstrong courage, however, induced the red men to keep as much as
possible out of their way. In short, there was a good deal of the
spirit of "let-be for let-be" between the two at the time of which we
write.

One morning in the spring-time of the year, soon after the floods caused
by the melting snows had swept the ice clean out of Greygoose or Whale
River, a sturdy young Eskimo urged his sharp kayak, or skin-covered
canoe, up the stream in pursuit of a small white-whale. But the
creature gave him the slip, so that, after an energetic chase, he turned
his light vessel towards the left bank of the stream, intending to land.

Cheenbuk, for such was his name, was one of those sedate beings whose
energies run calm and deep, like a mighty river. This feelings,
whatever they might be, did not usually cause much agitation on the
surfac