Loading the boat on the Kun River with Scammon Bay village and the Askinuk Mountains in the background. Our journey would take us ( 3 boats) down river into the Bering Sea. We would follow the coastline for a couple hours then turn up into the Black River and head for Kuzilvak Mountain to make camp. We left about 6 pm. and made camp about midnight. It was still bright daylight.
Young hunters in the front of the boat on the lookout for moose moving about the tundra.
Stewy, hoping to "catch" his first moose. Stewy is about 9 years old. He is Harley's grandson. The Eskimos say "catch or caught" instead of "kill or shot" a moose. Someone explained to me that they believe the moose allows itself to be caught and willingly gives it's life to them.
Our camp on the banks of the Black River. Tundra is lumpy and soft. But it's wet, too. Thankfully there was a constant breeze which kept the mosquitoes at bay. This was my first time to ever really, I mean really, go camping. No paved roads. No roads at all. No Port-a-Potty. No stores just over the hill. No phone or Internet service. Just gorgeous tundra wilderness.
Kuzilvak Mountain and the Black River from our campsite.
Sunset over the Black River.
We hunted Friday night and all day Saturday through the many tributaries and lakes winding across the tundra. It was fun! Harley ramped the boat over beaver dams!
But as the day went on, we didn't see any moose and we were beginning to give up hope.
Everyone scanning for a glimpse of moose. Then suddenly Harley whips the boat around and the hunters jump to attention! There's 5 moose walking across the tundra. Jerry and Theodore take aim and shoot. Several shots are fired. One moose goes down. Then a second moose goes down! Harley pulls the boat to shore and everyone takes off running toward the felled moose. Well, everyone except for me. My boots sunk into the muck and filled with water. So while I was trying to extract myself from the tundra and pouring water from my boots----they were already butchering the moose.
Harley with two of his sons, Theodore and Cassius.
Harley's son Jerry and my roommate, Allie.
Harley showing his sons how to butcher a moose--an essential skill for subsistence living and being an Eskimo man. As Harley was working, he said "God has not forgotten us."
Those antlers will be displayed outside the Sundown home to let the villagers know of their successful hunt.
Young hunters enjoying the fruits of their work---moose chili. Moose hunting is hard work. They helped butcher and carry two moose across the mushy, mucky tundra to the boat. I was impressed! I could barely stay upright.
Eskimo culture is a sharing culture. They always share with others in the village. The Sundowns gave us two moose legs. There's a lot of meat on a moose leg. I think we have plenty of meat for the coming winter---and I am very thankful.
This pic is Drew and Holly (from Kansas City) and Allie (from Maine) admiring our first moose meal---- ribs!
What a wonderful experience it was to go moose hunting with the Sundowns!
The Lord's blessings abound!
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