"There are few animals that have so many names as this. It is called in
different districts, or by different authors, _elk, round-horned elk,
American elk, stag, red deer, grey moose, le biche, wapiti_, and
_wewaskish_. Naturalists have given not a _few of_ their designations,
as _Cervus Canadensis, Cervus major, Cervus alces, Cervus
strongylocerus, etcetera_.
"You may ask, Why so many names? I shall tell you. It is called `elk'
because it was supposed by the early colonists to be the same as the elk
of Europe. Its name of `grey moose' is a hunter appellation, to
distinguish it from the real moose, which the same hunters know as the
`black moose.' `Round-horned elk' is also a hunter name. `Wewaskish,'
or `waskesse,' is an Indian name for the animal. `Stag' comes from the
European deer so called, because this species somewhat resembles the
stag; and `red deer' is a name used by the Hudson Bay traders. `Le
biche' is another synonyme of French authors.
"Of all these names I think that of `wapiti,' which our cousin has
given, the best. The names of `elk,' `stag,' and `red deer,' lead to
confusion, as there are other species to which they properly belong, all
of which are entirely different from the wapiti. I believe that this
last name is now used by the best-informed naturalists.
"In my opinion," continued Lucien, "the wapiti is the noblest of all the
deer kind. It possesses the fine form of the European stag, while it is
nearly a third larger and stronger. It has all the grace of limb and
motion that belongs to the common deer, while its towering horns give it
a most majestic and imposing appearance. Its colour during the summer
is of a reddish brown, hence the name red deer; but, indeed, the reddish
tint upon the wapiti is deeper and richer than that of its European
cousin. The wapiti, like other deer, brings forth its fawns in the
spring. They are usually a male and female, for two is the number it
produces. The males only have horns; and they must be several years old
before the antlers become full and branching. They fall every year, but
not until February or March, and then the new ones grow out in a month
or six weeks. During the summer the horns remain soft and tender to the
touch. They are covered at this time with a soft membrane that looks
like greyish velvet, and they are then said to be `in the velvet,' There
are nerves and blood-vessels running through this membrane, and a blow
upon the horns at this season gives great pain to the animal. When the
autumn arrives the velvet peels off, and they become as hard as bone.
They would need to be, for this is the `rutting' season, and the bucks
fight furious battles with each other, clashing their horns together, as
if they would break them to pieces. Very often a pair of bucks, while
thus contending, `lock' their antlers, and being unable to draw them
apart, remain head to head, until both die with hunger, or fall a prey
to the prowling wolves. This is true not only of the elk, but also of
the reindeer, the moose, and many other species of deer. Hundreds of
pairs of horns have been found thus `locked,' and the solitary hunter
has often surprised the deer in this unpleasant predicament.
"The wapiti utters a whistling sound, that can be heard far off, and
often guides the hunter to the right spot. In the rutting season the
bucks make other noises, which somewhat resemble the braying of an ass,
and are equally disagreeable to listen to.
"The wapiti travel about in small herds, rarely exceeding fifty, but
often of only six or seven. Where they are not much hunted they are
easily approached, but otherwise they are shy enough. The bucks, when
wounded and brought to bay, become dangerous assailants; much more so
than those of the common deer. Hunters have sometimes escaped with
difficulty from their horns and hoofs, with the latter of which they can
inflict very severe blows. They are hunted in the same way as other
deer; but the Indians capture many of them in the water, when they
discover them crossing lakes or rivers. They are excellent swimmers,
and can make their way over the arm of a lake or across the widest
river.
"They feed upon grass, and sometimes on the young shoots of willows and
poplar-trees. They are especially fond of a species of wild rose (_Rosa
blanda_), which grows in the countries they frequent.
"The wapiti at one time ranged over a large part of the continent of
North America. Its range is now restricted by the spread of the
settlements. It is still found in most of the Northern parts of the
United States, but only in remote mountainous districts, and even there
it is a rare animal. In Canada it is more common; and it roams across
the continent to the shores of the Pacific. It is not an animal of the
tropical countries, as it is not found in Mexico proper. On the other
hand, wapiti do not go farther north than about the fifty-seventh
parallel of latitude, and then they are not in their favourite habitat,
which is properly the temperate zone."
Lucien was interrupted by an exclamation from Basil, who stood up
looking out upon the prairie. They all saw that he had been observing
the wapiti.
"What is it?" cried they.
"Look yonder!" replied Basil, pointing in the direction of the herd.
"Something disturbs them. Give me your glass, Luce."
Lucien handed the telescope to his brother, who, drawing it to the
proper focus, pointed it towards the deer. The rest watched them with
the naked eye. They could see that there was some trouble among the
animals. There were only six in the herd, and even at the distance our
voyageurs could tell that they were all bucks, for it was the season
when the does secrete themselves in the woods and thickets to bring
forth their young. They were running to and fro upon the prairie, and
doubling about as if playing, or rather as if some creature was chasing
them. With the naked eye, however, nothing could be seen upon the
ground but the bucks themselves, and all the others looked to Basil, who
held the glass, for an explanation of their odd manoeuvres.
"There are wolves at them," said Basil, after regarding them for a
second or two.
"That's odd," rejoined Norman. "Wolves don't often attack full-grown
wapiti, except when wounded or crippled somehow. They must be precious
hungry. What sort of wolves are they?"
To you, boy reader, this question may seem strange. You, perhaps, think
that a wolf is a wolf, and there is but one kind. Such, however, is not
the exact truth. In America there are two distinct species of wolves,
and of these two species there are many varieties, which differ so much
in colour and other respects, that some authors have classed them as so
many distinct species instead of considering them mere varieties.
Whether they may be species or not is still a question among
naturalists; but certain it is that _two_ well-defined species do exist,
which differ in size, form, colour, and habits. These are the _large_
or _common wolf (Canis lupus_), and the barking or prairie wolf (_Canis
latrans_). The first species is the American representative of the
common wolf of Europe; and although an animal of similar nature and
habits, it differs very much from the latter in form and appearance. It
is, therefore, not the _same_, as hitherto supposed. This American wolf
is found in greater or less numbers throughout the whole continent; but
in the Northern regions it is very common, and is seen in at least five
different varieties, known by the characteristic names of _black, pied,
white, dusky_, and _grey_ wolves. Of these the grey is the most
numerous kind; but as I shall have occasion to speak of the large wolves
hereafter, I shall say no more of them at present, but direct your
attention to the second and very different species, the _prairie
wolves_.
These are a full third smaller than the common kind. They are swifter,
and go in larger packs. They bring forth their young in burrows on the
open plain, and not among the woods, like the other species. They are
the most cunning of American animals, not excepting their kindred the
foxes. They cannot be trapped by any contrivance, but by singular
manoeuvres often themselves decoy the over-curious antelope to approach
too near them. When a gun is fired upon the prairies they may be seen
starting up on all sides, and running for the spot in hopes of coming in
for a share of the game. Should an animal--deer, antelope, or buffalo--
be wounded, and escape the hunter, it is not likely to escape them also.
They will set after it, and run it down if _the wound has been a mortal
one_. On the other hand, if the wound has been only slight, and is not
likely in the end to cripple the animal, the wolves will not stir from
the spot. This extraordinary sagacity often tells the hunter whether it
is worth his while to follow the game he has shot at; but in any case he
is likely to arrive late, if the wolves set out before him, as a dozen
of them will devour the largest deer in a few minutes' time. The
prairie wolves as well as the others follow the herds of buffaloes, and
attack the gravid cows and calves when separated from the rest.
Frequently they sustain a contest with the bulls, when the latter are
old or wounded, but on such occasions many of them get killed before the
old bull becomes their prey.
They resemble the common grey wolf in colour, but there are varieties in
this respect, though not so great as among the larger species. Their
voice is entirely different, and consists of three distinct barks,
ending in a prolonged howl. Hence the specific and usual name
"barking-wolf" (_Canis latrans_). They are found only in the Western or
prairie half of the continent, and thence west to the Pacific. Their
Northern range is limited to the fifty-fifth parallel of latitude--but
they are met with southward throughout Mexico, where they are common
enough, and known by the name of "coyote."
Their skins are an article of trade with the Hudson's Bay Company. The
fur is of about the same quality with that of other wolves, and consists
of long hairs, with a thick wool at the base. In commerce they are
termed "cased wolves," because their skins, on being removed, are not
split open as with the large wolf-skins, but are stript off after the
manner of rabbits, and then turned inside out, or "cased," as it is
termed.
So much for the _Canis latrans_.
"Prairie wolves!" said Basil, in answer to the question put by his
cousin.
"There must be something the matter with one of the bucks, then,"
remarked Norman, "or else there's a good big pack of the wolves, and
they expect to tire one down. I believe they sometimes do try it that
way."
"There appears to be a large pack," answered Basil, still looking
through the glass; "fifty at least--See! they have separated one of the
bucks from the herd--it's running this way!"
Basil's companions had noticed this as soon as himself, and all four now
leaped to their guns. The wapiti was plainly coming towards them, and
they could now distinguish the wolves following upon his heels, strung
out over the prairie like a pack of hounds. When first started, the
buck was a full half-mile distant, but in less than a minute's time he
came breasting forward until the boys could see his sparkling eyes and
the play of his proud flanks. He was a noble animal to look at. His
horns were full-grown, but still "in the velvet," and as he ran with his
snout thrown forward, his antlers lay along both sides of his neck until
their tips touched his shoulders. He continued on in a direct line
until he was within less than an hundred paces of the camp; but,
perceiving the smoke of the fire, and the figures crouching around it,
he swerved suddenly from his course, and darted into the thicket of
willows, where he was for the moment hidden from view. The wolves--
fifty of them at least--had followed him up to this point; and as he
entered the thicket several had been close upon his heels. The boys
expected to see the wolves rush in after him--as there appeared to be no
impediment to their doing so--but, to the astonishment of all, the
latter came to a sudden halt, and then went sneaking back--some of them
even running off as if terrified! At first the hunters attributed this
strange conduct to their own presence, and the smoke of the camp; but a
moment's reflection convinced them that this could not be the reason of
it, as they were all well acquainted with the nature of the prairie
wolf, and had never witnessed a similar exhibition before.
They had no time to think of the wolves just then. The buck was the
main attraction, and, calling to each other to surround the thicket, all
four started in different directions. In a couple of minutes they had
placed themselves at nearly equal distances around the copse, and stood
watching eagerly for the reappearance of the wapiti.
The willows covered about an acre of ground, but they were tolerably
thick and full-leaved, and the buck could not be seen from any side.
Wherever he was, he was evidently at a standstill, for not a rustle
could be heard among the leaves, nor were any of the tall stalks seen to
move.
Marengo was now sent in. This would soon start him, and all four stood
with guns cocked and ready. But before the dog had made three lengths
of himself into the thicket, a loud snort was heard, followed by a
struggle and the stamping of hoofs, and the next moment the wapiti came
crashing through the bushes. A shot was fired--it was the crack of
Lucien's small rifle--but it had missed, for the buck was seen passing
onward and outward. All ran round to the side he had taken, and had a
full view of the animal as he bounded off. Instead of running free as
before, he now leaped heavily forward, and what was their astonishment
on seeing that he _carried another animal upon his back_!
The hunters could hardly believe their eyes, but there it was, sure
enough, a brown shaggy mass, lying flat along the shoulders of the
wapiti, and clutching it with large-spreading claws. Francois cried
out, "A panther!" and Basil at first believed it to be a bear, but it
was hardly large enough for that. Norman, however, who had lived more
in those parts where the animal is found, knew it at once to be the
dreaded "wolverene." Its head could not be seen, as that was hid behind
the shoulder of the wapiti, whose throat it was engaged in tearing. But
its short legs and broad paws, its busily tail and long shaggy hair,
together with its round-arching back and dark-brown colour, were all
familiar marks to the young fur-trader; and he at once pronounced it a
"wolverene."
When first seen, both it and the wapiti were beyond the reach of their
rifles; and the hunters, surprised by such an unexpected apparition, had
suddenly halted. Francois and Basil were about to renew the pursuit,
but were prevented by Norman who counselled them to remain where they
were.
"They won't go far," said he; "let us watch them a bit. See! the buck
takes the water!"
The wapiti, on leaving the willows, had run straight out in the first
direction that offered, which happened to be in a line parallel with the
edge of the lake. His eye, however, soon caught sight of the water,
and, doubling suddenly round, he made directly towards it, evidently
with the intention of plunging in. He had hopes, no doubt, that by this
means he might rid himself of the terrible creature that was clinging to
his shoulders, and tearing his throat to pieces.
A few bounds brought him to the shore. There was no beach at the spot.
The bank--a limestone bluff--rose steeply from the water's edge to a
height of eight feet, and the lake under it was several fathoms in
depth. The buck did not hesitate, but sprang outward and downwards. A
heavy plash followed, and for some seconds both wapiti and wolverene
were lost under the water. They rose to the surface, just as the boys
reached the bank, but they came up _separately_. The dip had proved a
cooler to the fierce wolverene; and while the wapiti was seen to strike
boldly out into the lake and swim off, the latter--evidently out of his
element--kept plunging about clumsily, and struggling to get back to the
shore. Their position upon the cliff above gave the hunters an
excellent opportunity with their rifles, and both Basil and Norman sent
their bullets into the wolverene's back. Francois also emptied his
double-barrelled gun at the same object, and the shaggy brute sank dead
to the bottom of the lake. Strange to say, not one of the party had
thought of firing at the buck. This persecution by so many enemies had
won for him their sympathy, and they would now have suffered him to go
free, but the prospect of fresh venison for supper overcame their
commiseration, and the moment the wolverene was despatched all set about
securing the deer. Their guns were reloaded, and, scattering along the
shore, they prepared to await his return. But the buck, seeing there
was nothing but death in his rear, swam on, keeping almost in a direct
line out into the lake. It was evident to all that he could not swim
across the lake, as its farther shore was not even visible. He must
either return to where they were, or drown; and knowing this to be his
only alternative, they stood still and watched his motions. When he had
got about half-a-mile from the shore, to the surprise of all, he was
seen to rise higher and higher above the surface, and then all at once
stop, with half of his body clear out of the water! He had come upon a
shoal, and, knowing the advantage of it, seemed determined to remain
there.
Basil and Norman ran to the canoe, and in a few minutes the little craft
was launched, and shooting through the water. The buck now saw that it
was likely to be all up with him, and, instead of attempting to swim
farther, he faced round and set his antlers forward in a threatening
attitude. But his pursuers did not give him the chance to make a rush.
When within fifty yards or so, Norman, who used the paddles, stopped and
steadied the canoe, and the next moment the crack of Basil's rifle
echoed over the lake, and the wapiti fell upon the water, where, after
struggling a moment, he lay dead.
The canoe was paddled up, and his antlers being made fast to the stern,
he was towed back to the shore, and carried into camp. What now
surprised our voyageurs was, their finding that the wapiti had been
wounded before encountering either the wolves, wolverene, or themselves.
An arrow-head, with a short piece of the shaft, was sticking in one of
his thighs. The Indians, then, had been after him, and very lately too,
as the wound showed. It was not a mortal wound, had the arrow-head been
removed; but of course, as it was, it would have proved his death in the
long run. This explained why the wolves had assailed an animal, that
otherwise, from his great size and strength, would have defied them.
The wolverene, moreover, rarely attacks game so large as the wapiti; but
the latter had, no doubt, chanced upon the lair of his fierce enemy, who
could not resist such a tempting opportunity of getting a meal. The
wolves had seen the wolverene as they approached the thicket, and that
accounted for their strange behaviour in the pursuit. These creatures
are as great cowards as they are tyrants, and their dread of a wolverene
is equal to that with which they themselves often inspire the wounded
deer.