"There wasn't much `adventure' in my day's sport," said he, "though I
might call it a `bird-adventure' too, for if it hadn't been for a bird I
shouldn't have had it. I shot a deer--that's all. But maybe it would
be curious for you to know how I came to find the animal, so I'll tell
you.
"The first thing I did after leaving here was to climb the hill
yonder,"--here Norman pointed to a long hill that sloped up from the
opposite shore of the lake, and which was the direction he had taken, as
Basil and Francois had gone right and left.
"I saw neither bird, beast, nor track, until I had reached the top of
the hill. There I got a good view of the country ahead. I saw it was
very rocky, without a stick of timber, and did not look very promising
for game. `It's no use going that way,' I says to myself; `I'll keep
along the ridge, above where Frank's gone. He may drive some varmint
out of the hollow, and I'll get a crack at it, as it comes over the
hill.'
"I was about to turn to the left when I heard the skreek of a bird away
ahead of me. I looked in that direction; and, sure enough, saw one
wheeling about in the air, right above the rocky jumble with which the
country was covered.
"Now it's a mighty curious bird that I saw. It's a sort of an owl, but,
I should say myself, there's a sprinkling of the hawk in it--for it's as
much like the one as the other."
"No doubt," interrupted Lucien, "it was one of the day owls of these
Northern regions, some of which approach very near to the hawks, both in
shape and habits. This peculiarity arises from the fact of the long
summer day--of weeks in duration--within the Arctic circle, requiring
them to hunt for their prey, just as hawks do; and therefore Nature has
gifted them with certain peculiarities that make them resemble these
birds. They want the very broad faces and large tufted heads of the
true owls; besides the ears, which in the latter are remarkable for
their size, and also for being operculated, or with lids, in the former
are not much larger than in other birds of prey. The small hawk-owl
(_Strix funerea_), which is altogether a Northern bird, is one of this
kind."
"Very well," continued Norman, "what you say may be very true, cousin
Luce; I only know that the bird I am speaking about is a mighty curious
little creature. It ain't bigger than a pigeon, and is of a
mottled-brown colour; but what I call it curious for is this:--Whenever
it sees any creature passing from place to place, it mounts up into the
air, and hovers above them, keeping up a constant screeching, like the
squalling of a child--and that's anything but agreeable. It does so,
not only in the neighbourhood of its nest--like the plover and some
other birds--but it will sometimes follow a travelling party for hours
together, and for miles across the country. From this circumstance the
Indians of these parts call it the `alarm bird,' or `bird of warning,'
because it often makes them aware of the approach either of their
enemies or of strangers. Sometimes it alarms and startles the game,
while the hunter is crawling up to it; and I have known it to bother
myself for a while of a day, when I was after grouse. It's a great
favourite with the Indians though--as it often guides them to deer, or
musk-oxen, by its flying and screaming above where these animals are
feeding.
"Just in the same way it guided me. I knew, from the movements of the
bird, that there must be something among the rocks. I couldn't tell
what, but I hoped it would turn out to be some creature that was
eatable; so I changed my intention, and struck out for the place where
it was.
"It was a good half-mile from the hill, and it cost me considerable
clambering over the rocks, before I reached the ground. I thought to
get near enough to see what it was, without drawing the bird upon
myself, and I crouched from hummock to hummock; but the sharp-eyed
creature caught sight of me, and came screeching over my head. I kept
on without noticing it; but as I was obliged to go round some large
rocks, I lost the direction, and soon found myself wandering back into
my own trail. I could do nothing, therefore, until the bird should
leave me, and fly back to whatever had first set it a-going. In order
that it might do so, I crept in under a big stone that jutted out, and
lay quiet a bit, watching it. It soon flew off, and commenced wheeling
about in the air, not more than three hundred yards from where I lay.
This time I took good bearings, and then went on. I did not care for
the bird to guide me any longer, for I observed there was an open spot
ahead, and I was sure that there I would see something. And sure enough
I did. On peeping round the end of a rock, I spied a herd of about
fifty deer. They were reindeer, of course, as there are no others upon
the `Barren Grounds,' and I saw they were all does--for at this season
the bucks keep altogether in the woods. Some of them were pawing the
snow to get at the moss, while others were standing by the rocks, and
tearing off the lichens with their teeth. It so happened that I had the
wind of them, else they would have scented me and made off, for I was
within a hundred yards of the nearest. I was not afraid of their taking
fright, so long as they could only see part of my body--for these deer
are so stupid, or rather so curious, that almost anything will draw them
within shot. Knowing this, I practised a trick that had often helped me
before; and that was to move the barrel of my gun, up and down, with the
same sort of motion as the deer make with their horns, when rubbing
their necks against a rock or tree. If I'd had a set of antlers, it
would have been all the better; but the other answered well enough. It
happened the animals were not very wild, as, likely, they hadn't been
hunted for a good while. I bellowed at the same time,--for I know how
to imitate their call--and, in less than a minute's time, I got several
of them within range. Then I took aim, and knocked one over, and the
rest ran off. That," said Norman, "ended my adventure--unless you call
the carrying a good hundred pounds weight of deer-meat all the way back
to camp part of it. If so, I can assure you that it was by far the most
unpleasant part."
Here Norman finished his narration, and a conversation was carried on
upon the subject of reindeer, or, as these animals are termed, in
America, "caribou."
Lucien said that the reindeer (_Cervus tarandus_) is found in the
Northern regions of Europe and Asia as well as in America, but that
there were several varieties of them, and perhaps there were different
species. Those of Lapland are most celebrated, because they not only
draw sledges, but also furnish food, clothing, and many other
commodities for their owners. In the north of Asia, the Tungusians have
a much larger sort, which they ride upon; and the Koreki, who dwell upon
the borders of Kamschatka, possess vast herds of reindeer--some rich
individuals owning as many as ten or twenty thousand!
It is not certain that the reindeer of America is exactly the same as
either of the kinds mentioned; and indeed in America itself there are
two very distinct kinds--perhaps a third. Two kinds are well-known,
that differ from each other in size, and also in habits. One is the
"Barren Ground caribou," and the other, the "Woodland caribou." The
former is one of the smallest of the deer kind--the bucks weighing
little over one hundred pounds. As its name implies, it frequents the
Barren Grounds, although in winter it also seeks the shelter of wooded
tracts. Upon the Barren Grounds, and the desolate shores and islands of
the Arctic Sea, it is the only kind of deer found, except at one or two
points, as the mouth of the Mackenzie River--which happens to be a
wooded country, and there the moose also is met with. Nature seems to
have gifted the Barren Ground caribou with such tastes and habits, that
a fertile country and a genial clime would not be a pleasant home for
it. It seems adapted to the bleak, sterile countries in which it
dwells, and where its favourite food--the mosses and lichens--is found.
In the short summer of the Arctic regions, it ranges still farther
north; and its traces have been found wherever the Northern navigators
have gone. It must remain among the icy islands of the Arctic Sea until
winter be considerably advanced, or until the sea is so frozen as to
allow it to get back to the shores of the continent.
The "Woodland caribou" is a larger variety--a Woodland doe being about
as big as a Barren Ground buck--although the horns of the latter species
are larger and more branching than those of the former. The Woodland
kind are found around the shores of Hudson's Bay, and in other wooded
tracts that lie in the southern parts of the fur countries--into which
the Barren Ground caribou never penetrates. They also migrate annually,
but, strange to say, their spring migrations are southward, while, at
the same season, their cousins of the Barren Grounds are making their
way northward to the shores of the Arctic Sea. This is a very singular
difference in their habits, and along with their difference in bulk,
form, etcetera, entitles them to be ranked as separate species of deer.
The flesh of the Woodland caribou is not esteemed so good an article of
food as that of the other; and, as it inhabits a district where many
large animals are found, it is not considered of so much importance in
the economy of human life. The "Barren Ground caribou," on the other
hand, is an indispensable animal to various tribes of Indians, as well
as to the Esquimaux. Without it, these people would be unable to dwell
where they do; and although they have not domesticated it, and trained
it to draught, like the Laplanders, it forms their main source of
subsistence, and there is no part of its body which they do not turn to
some useful purpose. Of its horns they form their fish-spears and
hooks, and, previous to the introduction of iron by the Europeans, their
ice-chisels and various other utensils. Their scraping or currying
knives are made from the split shin-bones. The skins make their
clothing, tent-covers, beds, and blankets. The raw-hide, cleared of the
hair and cut into thongs, serves for snares, bow-strings, net-lines, and
every other sort of ropes. The finer thongs make netting for
snow-shoes--an indispensable article to these people--and of these
thongs fish-nets are also woven; while the tendons of the muscles, when
split, serve for fine sewing-thread. Besides these uses, the flesh of
the caribou is the food of many tribes, Indians and Esquimaux, for most
of the year; and, indeed, it may be looked upon as their staple article
of subsistence. There is hardly any part of it (even the horns, when
soft) that is not eaten and relished by them. Were it not for the
immense herds of these creatures that roam over the country, they would
soon be exterminated--for they are easily approached, and the Indians
have very little difficulty, during the summer season, in killing as
many as they please.
Norman next gave a description of the various modes of hunting the
caribou practised by the Indians and Esquimaux; such as driving them
into a pound, snaring them, decoying and shooting them with arrows, and
also a singular way which the Esquimaux have of taking them in a
pit-trap built in the snow.
"The sides of the trap," said he, "are built of slabs of snow, cut as if
to make a snow-house. An inclined plane of snow leads to the entrance
of the pit, which is about five feet deep, and large enough within to
hold several deer. The exterior of the trap is banked up on all sides
with snow; but so steep are these sides left, that the deer can only get
up by the inclined plane which leads to the entrance. A great slab of
snow is then placed over the mouth of the pit, and revolves on two axles
of wood. This slab will carry the deer until it has passed the line of
the axles, when its weight overbalances one side, and the animal is
precipitated into the pit. The slab then comes back into a horizontal
position as before, and is ready to receive another deer. The animals
are attracted by moss and lichens placed for them on the opposite side
of the trap--in such a way that they cannot be reached without crossing
the slab. In this sort of trap several deer are frequently caught
during a single day."
Norman knew another mode of hunting practised by the Esquimaux, and
proposed that the party should proceed in search of the herd upon the
following day; when, should they succeed in finding the deer, he would
show them how the thing was done: and he had no doubt of their being
able to make a good hunt of it. All agreed to this proposal, as it
would be of great importance to them to kill a large number of these
animals. It is true they had now provision enough to serve for several
days--but there were perhaps months, not days, to be provided for. They
believed that they could not be far from the wooded countries near the
banks of the Mackenzie, as some kinds of the animal they had met with
were only to be found near timber during the winter season. But what of
that? Even on the banks of the great river itself they might not
succeed in procuring game. They resolved, therefore, to track the herd
of deer which Norman had seen; and for this purpose they agreed to make
a stay of some days at their present camp.