![]() Was Piugaattoq in the process of abandoning his companion in temperatures that had already fallen to minus 50C, as Green later claimed, or did the young naval officer misinterpret what was occurring. Soon even that would be lost to the relentless, driving snow. The blood from Piugaattoq’s wounds must have been a microscopic blemish on the pristine white vastness around them. Green hobbles forward on aching feet and then finishes off the Inuit with a bullet to the head. The shot hits Piugaattoq in the shoulder, knocking him from the sleigh. He takes a bead on the retreating figure and fires again. ![]() Green calls after him to come back, then fires a warning shot from his rifle, but he’s ignored. It’s 1914 and US Navy Ensign Fitzhugh Green is freezing, exhausted, and on foot in the frigid, icy wilderness of the Arctic, watching in frantic despair as his only companion, an Inuit hunter called Piugaattoq, climbs astride a dog sleigh and heads off into the distance. ![]()
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