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The very last of the few - Wegenercom

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Under <strong>the</strong> Pole Star<br />

<strong>The</strong> hardest time<br />

But <strong>the</strong> feeling <strong>of</strong> uncertainty never left you. It always<br />

travelled along, especially on <strong>the</strong> months-long hunting<br />

trips. You never knew what to expect... abundance or<br />

scarcity. It is no secret, that more than once I was forced<br />

to resort to <strong>the</strong> sledge driver’s hardest time – to kill<br />

one <strong>of</strong> your own dogs in order to use it as food for its<br />

stronger companions, or for yourself. Tough food, as it<br />

was always <strong>the</strong> old and worn-out ones that were<br />

selected first.<br />

No wonder that <strong>the</strong> uncertainty and <strong>the</strong> fear <strong>of</strong> famine<br />

lie as a dark and threatening undertone in much Inuit<br />

poetry and <strong>the</strong>ir myths.<br />

38<br />

One time, some friends and I barely managed to push<br />

our dog sleds onto an iceberg in <strong>the</strong> middle <strong>of</strong> Smith<br />

Sound before a heavy snowstorm broke, which totally<br />

eradicated our highway on <strong>the</strong> sea ice around us in a<br />

total “white-out”. Just imagine what would happen if<br />

<strong>the</strong> iceberg broke! My travelling companions took <strong>the</strong><br />

situation in fatalistic composure, but not I. Why <strong>the</strong><br />

devil did I not choose a secure job as an engineer in a<br />

Danish engineering company with a fixed salary and a<br />

pension plan?<br />

As it turned out, we were more frightened than hurt.<br />

<strong>The</strong> storm blew us across to <strong>the</strong> coastal ice along<br />

Inglefield Land. <strong>The</strong> same route that Inuit clans had<br />

followed through millenniums from Canada in <strong>the</strong>ir<br />

search for new hunting grounds in Greenland.<br />

I could tell stories about dramatic hunts for Arctic big<br />

game like polar bears, narwhals, muskoxen, and caribou.<br />

Or about <strong>the</strong> incident where a walrus inadvertently<br />

became my swimming toy – <strong>very</strong> inadvertently.<br />

When I look back, however, <strong>the</strong>re is one animal that has<br />

fascinated me more than any o<strong>the</strong>r, <strong>the</strong> ringed seal. It<br />

was and is <strong>the</strong> Inuit hunters’ daily bread. Without it, <strong>the</strong><br />

ancestors <strong>of</strong> present-day Greenlanders could not have<br />

survived.<br />

<strong>The</strong> first time one drives out across a high-arctic<br />

fiord landscape covered in snow and ice, it is hard to<br />

believe that any animal can survive in <strong>the</strong>se barren<br />

surroundings. But <strong>the</strong> ringed seal can. Even in <strong>the</strong><br />

middle <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> darkest polar night it hunts polar cod

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