Hunting Partner

RACHEL ATTITUQ QITSUALIK

There was only one hunter whom my father would readily admit was his equal. That hunter was Nuliajuk, whose name derived from that mythological progenitor of sea mammals — today most commonly called “Sedna.” Often, my father would boast that only Nuliajuk was faster and more sure with a fish leister, or that only Nuliajuk’s dogs were better at finding an aglu (domed seal breathing hole).

Nuliajuk walked great distances with sniffer dogs, endured freezing bli ards, suffered poor visibility and strength-sapping cold. Nuliajuk persevered through it all, often with enough good cheer to offer a friendly wager over catch size. Not a single word of complaint was ever uttered by Nuliajuk.

In those days, a hunter was measured by skill and patience. But experience was still a critical factor in any hunt. At the time when my father, of the Cape Dorset Inuit, first settled in among the Netsilingmiut, his experience had thus far consisted of hunting large mammals, such as bears, walrus, and whales.

But this was a new place, where life mainly depended upon the elusive ringed seal, an unusually cautious animal living below the sea ice. The People of the Seal, however, the Netsilingmiut, had become masters of seal hunting in their time, and Nuliajuk was one of the greatest among them.

Who had taught this hunter, whose name derived from legend? No one could say. But my father could and did trade hunting secrets freely with Nuliajuk, exchanging his hard-earned gems of knowledge for Nuliajuk’s own.

In the spring, you could watch them fishing together, peering into an ice-hole near the shore. Their leisters were angled to the sky, their lures clutched in their left hands. Hours were spent waiting for a ravenous char to snap at the bait, whereupon the leisters would suddenly strike with martial speed.

At a particularly accurate strike, other hunters would gasp in amazement. At a miss, there was friendly cursing. Then, it was back to watching the ice hole, no larger than a dinner plate.

It was all quite amazing to witness, as a hunter had to account for refraction in order to know where to strike.

For those of you who have never spear-fished, the fish isn’t where you would expect. As the sunlight hits the water, it is bent — refracted at an angle dependent upon the water’s specific density — so that your eyes are seeing the fish several centimeters from where it actually is. If you stab at the image of the fish, you will always miss. You have to account for refraction. Nuliajuk was an old hand at this.

She was the role model for us girls.

One day, my father was visited by one of his god-children, who also happened to be Nuliajuk’s granddaughter. My father, acting as a midwife, had caught the girl at birth, so that she was ever after his arnaliaq (literally, “one who is made female”).

Custom dictated that the girl was to give him her first catch. Barely six years old, she entered his tent, carrying a fish as large as herself. A fierce little huntress, she resembled a miniature version of her grandmother, Nuliajuk.

This was the brand of confidence that Nuliajuk left us girls with — confidence not only to trust ourselves as female hunters, but also as good family people. She taught us that life consisted of hardships to be endured, but that great rewards naturally followed great perseverance.

Hers was a skill available to all, the skill to provide for one’s family and oneself, as well as the skill to inspire the community in which one lived. She demonstrated that the most complete human being is one who brings natural talent to blossom through hard work.

Thus, Nuliajuk made equals of men and women. Can we not do the same with the resources and knowledge available today? I know that I emulate Nuliajuk in many ways, though I don’t currently have to catch my own dinner.

But I know that if I have to, I could and would. And I know that my father would be proud of me for emulating Nuliajuk, just as he was proud of himself for doing the same.

P.S. Congratulations to commander Eileen Collins, the first woman to lead a U.S. space mission!

Pijariiqpunga.