Serge had placed the body of his seal squarely on its back, and with a knife sharpened to the keenness of a razor he made a single straight cut through the skin from the lower jaw along the neck, chest, and abdomen to the root of the tail. Next came four swift circular cuts, one around the base of each fore flipper, one around the extremity of the body at the tail, and another around the head just back of the jaws.
The skin being now ready for removal, Serge grasped an edge of it, and with his keen blade rapidly “flensed” it or cut it free from the body, which he rolled over as the operation proceeded, until he literally rolled the seal out of its skin. After this, one of the crew carried the skin below, and laid it, hair side down, in a “kench,” or bin constructed for the purpose. Here the fleshy sides of the skins are covered thickly with salt, and they are left in that condition until the end of the voyage. They are thus thoroughly pickled, and will keep in this state for an indefinite length of time.
As Serge finished his task nearly half a minute ahead of his most expert rival in this peculiar business, the spectators greeted him with shouts of applause and a vigorous hand-clapping. The young Alaskan acknowledged this with a smile and a bow, but at the same time glanced inquiringly to where Phil stood, to see if he were joining in these tokens of appreciation. But the young seal-hunter was not given to outward demonstrations of his feelings, and though his heart was peculiarly warmed towards Serge at this moment, and he longed for a reconciliation, he could not bring himself to let this feeling manifest itself before others. So he stood motionless and silent.
Serge, too, was longing for a renewal of friendship with the one of all his companions whom he most admired and loved, and was bitterly disappointed that Phil should give no sign of a similar desire. More to hide the expression of this feeling than anything else he picked up the body of the seal which he had just finished, and bore it to the rail with the intention of throwing it overboard. The deck was slippery with blood and blubber oil, and Serge was not just then in a mood to exercise caution. He was thinking of Phil instead of what he was doing. As a consequence, when he lifted the seal above his head and leaned far over the rail to fling it from him, his feet slipped, and in an instant he had plunged headforemost into the cold waters.