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THE STORY OF GOMOGK THE ESKIMO IO3
life is spent on or near the sea, but there are times in the year when he has to leave it. For instance, in summer when he has to go inland for skins for clothing. The best skins for winter clothing are the skins of deer. There was a time when through the barrens of northern Ungava, east of Hudson Bay, the deer migrations numbered countless thousands. Sometimes so many, as one old Eskimo told me, that long before they were in sight he could hear them coming by the thunder their hooves made on the ground. The range of these migrations was over a country larger than all of England. Somewhere in this vast desolate land where snow and ice never entirely disappear the Eskimo must take his chance at intercepting a migration as it passes in spring, from south to north, and, in fall, from north to south again. This was the great adventure of their year, but it was a dangerous one. For when the Eskimo left the sea he knew he was leaving behind him his most dependable source of food, the seal. He had gambled everything on the coming of the deer. One summer, when a large band of Eskimo made one of these journeys, the deer did not come. The Eskimo waited, day after day, week after week. Still there were no deer. They began to starve. They'd eaten their dogs, bits of their clothing, their sealskin lines, offal, anything. Still the deer did not come. And then at last, they heard the telltale thunder of hoof-beats on the ground. In thousands the deer came, some wandering right in among their tents. But by this time the Eskimo had not strength enough left to pull the strings of their bows. It was the old story. They died of starvation.
Two years after my film Nanook was made and began to be shown in various parts of the world, Nanook himself was caught in this way. Again the deer failed. Nanook could not get back to the coast in time, and he, too, died of starvation.
Another great hazard in the life of the Eskimo is the seaice itself. It can part and break into separate fields. It can