They fired again, the reports again almost simultaneous. The air smelled like gunpowder. There were three concentric ripples, very close, and the seal's head came up again, then ducked down too quickly, before the animal could draw breath. Again they shot, and the boat ghosted forward; again, and water leaped up around the seal's lurking-place. Suddenly the seal vanished. The boat slowed even more and everyone looked around on all sides.
Then the old man in old grayish kamiks called, and started the motor, and they went on. There were sky-blue eels of light in the gunmetal sea.
Well, that was fun for awhile, said the grandson who always got in trouble, but he wants to hunt walrus.
A hunter was sitting with the old man. They both looked straight ahead, without talking. The old man kept the sole of his kamik firmly on the wheel. The older boys were teaching the younger ones the finger-signals for seals that their grandfather had taught them. A finger straight up was a ring seal, because those creatures tended to peer out of the water. A finger which went up but then crooked out straight was a bearded seal; they were usually seen swimming. A finger that crooked downward was a harp seal; they were divers.
Indulging his grandsons, the old man stopped the boat and pointed one finger straight up. They looked, saw the ring seal's head, and shot.
Oh, look at this! cried One-Nut in delight, gathering hot black cartridges from the deck.
They shot again, just as the seal-head came up to breathe.
Fuck, gimme the twenty-two magnums!
Get ready, get ready!
They were very close to the seal now. For the fifth time it surfaced without being able to breathe. On the seventh time a bright red circle of blood marked its surfacing, and with a splashing sound they stabbed it under its dark head with the old man's harpoon, whose point was made of caribou antler. The black flipper moved feebly.
Grab it!
They pulled it in, stabbed it once in the neck, and it died, lying there whiskers up as bloody water ran out of its head. The grandson who always got in trouble pulled the harpoon out and licked the blood off his hand.
Ah, it must taste
All bent over it in gladness and admiration, and then Three-Nuts rolled it into the hold.
There's a bearded seal out on the ice, said One-Nut. My grandfather sees it.
No! Walrus! Walrus!
Hollowpoint!
They rushed and aimed.
There was a brown islet which turned out to be all walruses wriggling and crawling on each other on a piece of ice you couldn't even see. As the boat bore down they began to flee like a slow explosion of heaviness but the old man in old grayish kamiks had already shot the big one. He'd shot him in the right place, which was the bump behind the head. One-Nut cast the harpoon and they all smiled at him proudly. So much bright blood spread like paint under the boat and beyond.
