This morning I have just found out that I was right about the departure time mix-up with my ticket.
First Air are using a new program to print out their tickets, and it has not been completely worked out.. So, where they should have put the departure time, they put the flight number, and vice-versa. That's why all the other hunters are also here two hours early.
You have to be on the look-out all the time over here.
While travelling on the bus to the airport, I met Boudie Schneider, who is also here to hunt musk ox. However, his case does not contain a gun, but a bow. At the airport I have a look at it; it's khaki color, and so strong I can hardly draw it. Boudie has already finished his caribou hunt, and managed to bag a very good one with his bow. He's proud of his achievement, and has every reason to be.
In Hungary, archers do not deserve their lack of appreciation and recognition. I've even heard some nonsense that archery is not in accordance with the traditional hunting values. Well, if archery is not a traditional method of hunting, then I don't know what is. Here, in Canada, even the law favors them, as their hunting season begins earlier. To approach an animal step by step, getting near enough for it to spot you, even while wearing camouflage, and then to draw the bow and let fly a successful shaft... that's real hunting! Gun-users are forever searching for bigger and
Chapter III.: Victoria Island
Page 21
bigger capacity ammunition, and accessories - such as laser-sights and precision optics - that will enable them to expand their shooting distance. Meanwhile, there are those who, armed only with a bow, hunt every species under the sun - elephants included - and their shooting distance never exceeds 120 ft. Within this distance an arrow causes no more suffering to an animal than a bullet from any super magnum caliber. I can't remember if it was Greg, or Striker, who told me the story about their archer friend who hunted Dall sheep in Brooks Range. He had clothes made out of ram skin, even wore a pair of horns, and spent days creeping up on the animals. During the nights he slept on the mountain, without a tent or sleeping-bag, close to the rams, and was only able to eat the occasional energy bar. He constantly had to make sure the wind did not carry his human smell, or the whole hunt would have been endangered. Eventually, the animals must have considered him some sort of distant relative, as they let him get close enough to try a shot. Which he did. And now he has a beautiful trophy, which completely justifies this particular hunter's thoroughness, determination and patience. Such sportmen deserve much respect.
Checking-in my luggage went smoothly; it didn't weigh anything.
It certainly looks as if Boudie and I will reach Holman today.
Musk Ox Camp
Victoria Island