The news of the caribou spread quickly around Davis Inlet. The hunters of Davis Inlet arrived the following morning across the recently frozen water. The visitors would kill what they needed. My older brother and another man got their caribou. I had yet to get my own caribou. I helped my mother butcher the caribou and store it in the rafters, while my brother and father hauled the meat. I was left behind as usual to do the chores of getting the water and cutting the wood.

My uncle had left his rifle behind just in case the caribou came near our camp. My mother said to be careful if I had to use the gun because I had never fired a high-powered rifle before. It was late in the day when I saw my opportunity to shoot my first caribou. The others saw two caribou come directly towards our camp. My mother and aunt told me to wait until they were closer, and I had to walk a few hundred metres away from camp to get my shot. As the two wandering caribou came closer to where I hid, my hands were trembling and I started to sweat. I aimed to shoot and squeezed the trigger but nothing happened. Now they were only a few feet away. I squeezed again–nothing!