Next morning they were up by early daybreak. The days were now only a
few hours in length, for it was mid-winter, and they were but three or
four degrees south of the Arctic circle. Of course they would require
all the day for the intended hunt of the caribou, as they might have to
follow the track of the herd for many miles before coming up with the
animals. Lucien was to remain by the camp, as it would never do to
leave the animals they had already lulled without some guard. To have
hung them on the trees, would have put them out of the reach of both
wolves and foxes; but the lynx and wolverene are both tree-climbers, and
could easily have got at them there. They had reason to believe there
were wolverenes about; for these fierce and destructive beasts are found
in every part of the fur countries--wherever there exist other animals
upon which they can prey. Eagles, hawks, and owls, moreover, would have
picked the partridges from the branches of the trees without difficulty.
One proposed burying them in the snow; but Norman assured them that the
Arctic foxes could scent them out, and dig them up in a few minutes.
Then it was suggested to cover them under a pile of stones, as there
were plenty of these lying about. To this Norman also objected, saying
that the wolverene could pull off any stones they were able to pile upon
them--as this creature in its fore-legs possesses more than the strength
of a man. Besides, it was not unlikely that one of the great brown
bears,--a species entirely different from either the black or grizzly
bears, and which is only met with on the Barren Grounds--might come
ranging that way; and he could soon toss over any stone-heap they might
build. On the whole it was better that one of the four should remain by
the camp; and Lucien, who cared less about hunting than any of them,
willingly agreed to be the one.
Their arrangements were soon completed, and the three hunters set out.
They did not go straight towards the place where Norman had found the
deer upon the preceding day, but took a cross-cut over the hills. This
was by Norman's advice, who guided himself by the wind--which had not
changed since the previous day. He knew that the caribou in feeding
always travel _against_ the wind; and he expected therefore to find them
somewhere in the direction from which it was blowing. Following a
course, which angled with that of the wind, they kept on, expecting soon
to strike the trail of the herd.
Meanwhile Lucien, left to himself, was not idle. He had to prepare the
flesh of the different animals, so as to render it fit to be carried
along. Nothing was required farther than to skin and cut them up.
Neither salting nor drying was necessary, for the flesh of one and all
had got frozen as stiff as a stone, and in this way it would keep during
the whole winter. The wolf was skinned with the others, but this was
because his fine skin was wanted. His flesh was not intended to be
eaten--although only a day or two before any one of the party would have
been glad of such a meal. Not only the Indians, but the voyageurs and
fur-traders, while journeying through these inhospitable wilds, are
often but too delighted to get a dinner of wolf-meat. The ermine and
the little mouse were the only other creatures of the collection that
were deemed uneatable. As to the Arctic fox and the lynx, the flesh of
both these creatures is highly esteemed, and is white and tender, almost
as much so as the hares upon which they feed. The snowy owl too, the
jerfalcon, and the eagle, were looked upon as part of the larder--the
flesh of all being almost as good as that of the grouse. Had it been a
fishing eagle--such as the bald-head--the case would have been
different, for these last, on account of their peculiar food, taste rank
and disagreeable. But there was no danger of their falling in with a
fishing eagle at that place. These can only exist where there is _open_
water. Hence the cause of their annual migrations to the southward,
when the lakes and rivers of the fur countries become covered with their
winter ice.
Though Lucien remained quietly at the camp he was not without adventures
to keep him from wearying. While he was singeing his grouse his eye
happened to fall upon the shadow of a bird passing over the snow. On
looking up he saw a very large bird, nearly as big as an eagle, flying
softly about in wide circles. It was of a mottled-brown colour; but its
short neck and great round head told the naturalist at a glance that it
was a bird of the owl genus. It was the largest of the kind that Lucien
had ever seen, and was, in fact, the largest known in America--the
"great cinereous owl" (_Strix cinerea_). Now and then it would alight
upon a rock or tree, at the distance of an hundred yards or so from the
camp; where it would watch the operations of Lucien, evidently inclined
to help him in dissecting some of the animals. Whenever he took up his
gun and tried to approach within shot, it would rise into the air again,
always keeping out of range. Lucien was provoked at this--for he
wished, as a naturalist, to examine the bird, and for this purpose to
kill it, of course; but the owl seemed determined that he should do no
such thing.
At length, however, Lucien resolved upon a plan to decoy the creature
within shot. Taking up one of the grouse, he flung it out upon the snow
some thirty yards from the fire. No sooner had he done so, than the
owl, at sight of the tempting morsel, left aside both its shyness and
prudence, and sailed gently forward; then, hovering for a moment over
the ground, hooked the grouse upon its claws, and was about to carry it
off, when a bullet from Lucien's rifle, just in the "nick of time," put
a stop to its further flight, and dropped the creature dead upon the
snow.
Lucien picked it up and brought it to the camp, where he passed some
time in making notes upon its size, colour, and other peculiarities.
The owl measured exactly two feet in length from the point of the bill
to the end of the tail; and its "alar spread," as naturalists term it,
was full five feet in extent. It was of a clove-brown colour,
beautifully mottled with white, and its bill and eyes were of a bright
gamboge yellow. Like all of its tribe that winter in the Arctic wilds,
it was feathered to the toes. Lucien reflected that this species lives
more in the woods than the "great snowy owl," and, as he had heard, is
never found far out on the Barren Grounds during winter. This fact,
therefore, was a pleasant one to reflect upon, for it confirmed the
testimony which the travellers had already obtained from several of the
other creatures they had killed--that is to say, that they must be in
the neighbourhood of some timbered country.
Lucien had hardly finished his examination of the owl when he was called
upon to witness another incident of a much more exciting nature. A
hill, as already mentioned, or rather a ridge, rose up from the opposite
shore of the lake by which the camp was pitched. The declivity of this
hill fronted the lake, and sloped gradually back from the edge of the
water. Its whole face was smooth and treeless, covered with a layer of
pure snow. The camp commanded a full view of it up to its very crest.
As Lucien was sitting quietly by the fire a singular sound, or rather
continuation of sounds, fell upon his ear. It somewhat resembled the
baying of hounds at a distance; and at first he was inclined to believe
that it was Marengo on a view-hunt after the deer. On listening more
attentively, however, he observed that the sounds came from more than
one animal; and also, that they bore more resemblance to the howling of
wolves than the deep-toned bay of a bloodhound. This, in fact, it was;
for the next moment a caribou shot up over the crest of the hill, and
was seen stretching at full gallop down the smooth declivity in the
direction of the lake. Not twenty paces in its rear followed a string
of howling animals, evidently in pursuit of it. There were a dozen of
them in all, and they were running exactly like hounds upon the "view
holloa." Lucien saw at a glance they were wolves. Most of them were
dappled-grey and white, while some were of a pure white colour. Any one
of them was nearly as large as the caribou itself; for in these parts--
around Great Slave Lake--the wolf grows to his largest size.
The caribou gained upon them as it bounded down the slope of the hill.
It was evidently making for the lake, believing, no doubt, that the
black ice upon its surface was water, and that in that element it would
have the advantage of its pursuers, for the caribou is a splendid
swimmer. Nearly all deer when hunted take to the water--to throw off
the dogs, or escape from men--and to this habit the reindeer makes no
exception.
Down the hill swept the chase, Lucien having a full view both of
pursuers and pursued. The deer ran boldly. It seemed to have gathered
fresh confidence at sight of the lake, while the same object caused its
pursuers a feeling of disappointment. They knew they were no match for
a caribou in the water, as no doubt many a one had escaped them in that
element. It is not likely, however, that they made reflections of this
sort. There was but little time. From the moment of their appearance
upon the crest of the hill till the chase arrived at the edge of the
lake, was but a few seconds. On reaching the shore the caribou made no
stop; but bounded forward in the same way as if it had been springing
upon water. Most likely it expected to hear a plunge; but, instead of
that, its hoofs came down upon the hard ice; and, by the impulse thus
given, the animal shot out with the velocity of a skater. Strange to
say, it still kept its feet; but, now seemingly overcome by surprise,
and knowing the advantage its pursuers would have over it upon the
slippery ice, it began to plunge and flounder, and once or twice came to
its knees. The hungry pursuers appeared to recognise their advantage at
once, for their howling opened with a fresh burst, and they quickened
their pace. Their sharp claws enabled them to gallop over the ice at
top speed; and one large brute that led the pack soon came up with the
deer, sprang upon it, and bit it in the flank. This brought the deer
upon its haunches, and at once put an end to the chase. The animal was
hardly down upon the ice, when the foremost wolves coming up
precipitated themselves upon its body, and began to devour it.
It was about the middle of the lake where the caribou had been
overtaken. At the time it first reached the ice, Lucien had laid hold
of his rifle and run forward in order to meet the animal halfway, and,
if possible, get a shot at it. Now that the creature was killed, he
continued on with the design of driving off the wolves, and securing the
carcass of the deer for himself. He kept along the ice until he was
within less than twenty yards of the pack, when, seeing that the fierce
brutes had torn the deer to pieces, and perceiving, moreover, that they
exhibited no fear of himself, he began to think he might be in danger by
advancing any nearer. Perhaps a shot from his rifle would scatter them,
and without further reflection he raised the piece, and fired. One of
the wolves kicked over upon the ice, and lay quite dead; but the others,
to Lucien's great surprise, instead of being frightened off, immediately
sprang upon their dead companion, and commenced tearing and devouring
it, just as they had done the deer!
The sight filled Lucien with alarm; which was increased at seeing
several of the wolves--that had been beaten by the others from the
quarry--commence making demonstrations towards himself! Lucien now
trembled for his safety, and no wonder. He was near the middle of the
lake upon slippery ice. To attempt running back to the camp would be
hazardous; the wolves could overtake him before he had got halfway, and
he felt certain that any signs of fear on his part would be the signal
for the fierce brutes to assail him.
For some moments he was irresolute how to act. He had commenced loading
his gun, but his fingers were numbed with the cold, and it was a good
while before he could get the piece ready for a second fire. He
succeeded at length. He did not fire then, but resolved to keep the
charge for a more desperate crisis. Could he but reach the camp there
were trees near it, and one of these he might climb. This was his only
hope, in case the wolves attacked him, and he knew it was. Instead of
turning and running for this point, he began to back for it stealthily
and with caution, keeping his front all the while towards the wolves,
and his eyes fixed upon them. He had not got many yards, when he
perceived to his horror, that the whole pack were in motion, and _coming
after him_! It was a terrible sight, and Lucien, seeing that by
retreating he only drew them on, stopped and held his rifle in a
threatening attitude. The wolves were now within twenty yards of him;
but, instead of moving any longer directly towards him, they broke into
two lines, swept past on opposite sides of him, and then circling round,
met each other in his rear. _His retreat was cut off_!
He now stood upon the ice with the fierce wolves forming a ring around
him, whose diameter was not the six lengths of his gun, and _every_
moment growing shorter and shorter. The prospect was appalling. It
would have caused the stoutest heart to quail, and Lucien's was
terrified. He shouted at the top of his voice. He fired his rifle at
the nearest. The brute fell, but the others showed no symptoms of fear;
they only grew more furious. Lucien clubbed his gun--the last resort in
such cases--and laid around him with all his might; but he was in danger
of slipping upon the ice, and his efforts were feeble. Once down he
never would have risen again, for his fierce assailants would have
sprung upon him like tigers. As it was, he felt but little hope. He
believed himself lost. The teeth of the ferocious monsters gleamed
under his eyes. He was growing weaker and weaker, yet still he battled
on, and swept his gun around him with the energy of despair. Such a
struggle could not have continued much longer. Lucien's fate would have
been sealed in a very few minutes more, had not relief arrived in some
shape or other. But it did come. A loud shout was heard upon the hill;
and Lucien, glancing suddenly towards it, saw several forms rushing
downward to the lake! It was the hunting party returned, and in a
moment more they were crossing the ice to his rescue. Lucien gaining
confidence fought with fresh vigour. The wolves busy in their attack
had either not heard or were regardless of the new-comers; but the
"crack, crack" of the guns--repeated no less than four times--and then
the nearer reports of pistols, made a speedy impression upon the brutes,
and in a short while half their number were seen tumbling and kicking
upon the ice. The rest, uttering their hideous howls, took to flight,
and soon disappeared from the valley; and Lucien, half dead with
fatigue, staggered into the arms of his deliverers.
No less than seven of the wolves were killed in the affray--two of which
Lucien had shot himself. One or two were only wounded, but so badly,
that they could not get away; and these were handed over to the tender
mercies of Marengo, who amused himself for some time after by worrying
them to death.
The hunting party had made a good day of it. They had fallen in with
the caribou, and had killed three of them. These they were bringing to
camp, but had dropped them upon the hill, on perceiving the perilous
position of Lucien. They now went back, and having carried the deer to
their camping-place, were soon engaged in the pleasant occupation of
eating a savoury dinner. Lucien soon recovered from his fright and
fatigue, and amused his companions by giving an account of the
adventures that had befallen him in their absence.