CHAPTER V.

THE ARCTIC LANDS--FAUNA--FLORA--GREENLAND--ICELAND--NOVAIA

ZEMLAIA--SIBERIA.

We have already pointed out that in the northernmost regions of the

Arctic lands the year is divided into one prolonged and bitterly cold

night of several months’ duration, and one glorious summer’s day

extending over nine or ten weeks, which brings the scanty vegetation

to a sudden maturity. We have indicated that even within the limits of

perpetual snow the life of Nature is not altogether crushed out; and in

support of this statement we may refer to the “red snow” which figures

so often in the pages of our Arctic voyagers, though its true character

was not at first apprehended.

This so-called “red snow” was found by Sir John Ross, in his first

Arctic expedition in 1808, on a range of cliffs rising about 800 feet

above the sea-level, and extending eight miles in length (lat. 75° N.).

It was also discovered by Sir W. E. Parry in his overland expedition in

1827. The snow was tinged to the depth of several inches. Moreover, if

the surface of the snow-plain, though previously of its usual spotless

purity, was crushed by the pressure of the sledges and of the footsteps

of the party, blood-like stains instantly arose; the impressions being

sometimes of an orange hue, and sometimes more like a pale salmon tint.

It has been ascertained that this singular variation of colour is

due to an immense aggregation of minute plants of the species called

_Protococcus nivalis_; the generic name alluding to the extreme

primitiveness of its organization, and the specific to the peculiar

nature of its habitat. If we place a small quantity of red snow on a

piece of white paper, and allow it to melt and evaporate, there will be

left a residuum of granules sufficient to communicate a faint crimson

tint to the paper. Examine these granules under a microscope, and

they will prove to be spherical purple cells of almost inappreciable

size, not more than the three-thousandth to one-thousandth part of

an inch in diameter. Look more closely, and you will see that each

cell has an opening, surrounded by indented or serrated lines, the

smallest diameter of which measures only the five-thousandth part of

an inch. When perfect, the plant, as Dr. Macmillan observes, bears a

resemblance to a red-currant berry; as it decays, the red colouring

matter fades into a deep orange, which is finally resolved into a

brownish hue. The thickness of the wall of the cell is estimated at the

twenty-thousandth part of an inch, and three hundred to four hundred

of these cells might be grouped together in a smaller space than a

shilling would cover. Yet each cell is a distinct individual plant;

perfectly independent of others with which it may be massed; fully

capable of performing for and by itself all the functions of growth and

reproduction; possessing “a containing membrane which absorbs liquids

and gases from the surrounding matrix or elements, a contained fluid

of peculiar character formed out of these materials, and a number of

excessively minute granules equivalent to spores, or, as some would

say, to cellular buds, which are to become the germs of new plants.”

Dr. Macmillan adds: “That one and the same primitive cell should thus

minister equally to absorption, nutrition, and reproduction, is an

extraordinary illustration of the fact that the smallest and simplest

organized object is in itself, and, for the part it was created to

perform in the operations of nature, as admirably adapted as the

largest and most complicated.”

[Illustration: PROTOCOCCUS NIVALIS.]

* * * * *

The first vegetable forms to make their appearance at the limits of

the snow-line, whether in high latitudes or on mountain-summits, are

lichens; which flourish on rocks, or stones, or trees, or wherever

they can obtain sufficient moisture to support existence. Upwards of

two thousand four hundred species are known. The same kinds prevail

throughout the Arctic Regions, and the species common to both the

Eastern and Western Hemispheres are very numerous. They lend the

beauty of colour to many an Arctic scene which would otherwise be

inexpressibly dreary; the most rugged rock acquiring a certain air

of picturesqueness through their luxuriant display. Their forms are

wonderfully varied; so that they present to the student of Nature

an almost inexhaustible field of inquiry. In their most rudimentary

aspects they seem to consist of nothing more than a collection of

powdery granules, so minute that the figure of each is scarcely

distinguishable, and so dry and so deficient in organization that we

cannot but wonder how they live and maintain life. Now they are seen

like ink-spots on the trunks of fallen trees; now they are freely

sprinkled in white dust over rocks and withered tufts of moss, others

appear in gray filmy patches; others again like knots or rosettes of

various tints; and some are pulpy and gelatinous, like aërial sea-weeds

which the receding tide leaves bare and naked on inland rocks. A

greater complexity of structure, however, is visible in the higher

order of lichens,--and we find them either tufted and shrubby, like

miniature trees; or in clustering cups, which, Hebe-like, present their

“dewy offerings to the sun.”

In the Polar World, and its regions of eternal winter, where snow and

ice, and dark drear waters, huge glacier and colossal berg, combine to

form an awful and impressive picture, the traveller is thankful for the

abundance of these humble and primitive forms, which communicate the

freshness and variety of life to the otherwise painful and death-like

uniformity of the frost-bound Nature. It is true that here,

“Above, around, below,

On mountain or in glen,

Nor tree, nor shrub, nor plant, nor flower,”

may be found in the lands beyond the line of perpetual snow; it is true

that

“All is rocks at random thrown,

Black waves, bare crags, and banks of stone;

As if were here denied

The summer’s sun, the spring’s sweet dew,

That clothe with many a varied hue

The bleakest mountain-side;”

but vegetation is not absolutely wanting, and the lichens are so

largely developed and so widely distributed as to impart quite a

peculiar and distinctive character to the scenery.

A lichen which is discovered in almost every zone of altitude and

latitude, which ranges from the wild shores of Melville Island in the

Arctic to those of Deception Island in the Antarctic circle,--which

blooms on the crests of the Himalayas, on the lofty peak of Chimborazo,

and was found by Agassiz near the top of Mont Blanc,--is the _Lecidea

geographica_, a beautiful bright-green lichen, whose clusters assume

almost a kaleidoscopic appearance.

A lichen of great importance in the Arctic world is the well-known

_Cladonia rangiferina_, or reindeer moss, which forms the staple

food of that animal during the long Arctic winter. In the vast tundras,

or steppes, of Lapland it flourishes in the greatest profusion,

completely covering the ground with its snowy tufts, which look like

the silvery sprays of some magic plant. According to Linnæus, it

thrives more luxuriantly than any other plant in the pine-forests

of Lapland, the surface of the soil being carpeted with it for many

miles in extent; and if the forests are accidentally burned to the

ground, it quickly reappears, and grows with all its original vigour.

These plains, which seem to the traveller smitten with the curse of

desolation, the Laplander regards as fertile pastures; and here vast

herds of reindeer roam at will, thriving where the horse, the elephant,

and even the camel would perish. This useful animal is dependent almost

entirely on a lichen for support. What a deep interest is thus attached

to it! That vast numbers of families, living in pastoral simplicity

in the cheerless and inhospitable Polar Regions, should depend for

their subsistence upon the uncultured and abundant supply of a plant

so low in the scale of organization as this, is, says Dr. Macmillan, a

striking proof of the great importance of even the smallest and meanest

objects in nature.

When the ground is crusted with a hard and frozen snow, which prevents

it from obtaining its usual food, the reindeer turns to another

lichen, called rock-hair (_Alectoria jubata_), that grows in long

bearded tufts on almost every tree. In winters of extreme rigour, the

Laplanders cut down whole forests of the largest trees, that their

herds may browse freely on the tufts which clothe the higher branches.

Hence it has been justly said that “the vast dreary pine-forests of

Lapland possess a character which is peculiarly their own, and are

perhaps more singular in the eyes of the traveller than any other

feature in the landscapes of that remote and desolate region. This

character they owe to the immense number of lichens with which they

abound. The ground, instead of grass, is carpeted with dense tufts of

the reindeer moss, white as a shower of new fallen snow; while the

trunks and branches of the trees are swollen far beyond their natural

dimensions with huge, dusky, funereal branches of the rock-hair,

hanging down in masses, exhaling a damp earthy smell, like an old

cellar, or stretching from tree to tree in long festoons, waving with

every breath of wind, and creating a perpetual melancholy sound.”

* * * * *

In regions furthest north are found various species of lichens

belonging to the genera _Gyrophora_ and _Umbilicuria_, and

known in the records of Arctic travel as rock tripe, or _tripe de

roche_; a name given to them in consequence of their blistered

thallus, which bears a faint resemblance to the animal substance so

called. They afford a coarse kind of food, and proved of the greatest

service to the expeditions under Sir John Franklin; though their

nutritious properties are not considerable, and, such as they are, are

unfortunately impaired by the presence of a bitter principle which is

apt to induce diarrhœa. In Franklin and Richardson’s terrible overland

journey from the Coppermine River to Fort Enterprise it was almost the

sole support, at one time, of the heroic little company. Dr. Richardson

says they gathered four species of _Gyrophora_,[9] and used them

all as articles of food; “but not having the means of extracting the

bitter principle from them, they proved nauseous to all, and noxious

to several of the party, producing severe bowel complaints.” Franklin

on one occasion remarks: “This was the sixth day since we had enjoyed

a good meal; the _tripe de roche_, even when we got enough, only

serving to allay the pangs of hunger for a short time.” Again, we read:

“The want of _tripe de roche_ caused us to go supperless to bed.”

Dr. Hayes, in the course of his “Arctic Boat Journey,” was compelled

to have recourse to the same unsatisfactory fare. The rock-lichen, or

stone-moss, as he calls it, he describes as about an inch in diameter

at its maximum growth, and of the thickness of a wafer. It is black

externally, but when broken the interior appears white. When boiled it

makes a glutinous fluid, which is slightly nutritious.

“Although in some places it grows very abundantly,” writes Dr. Hayes,

“yet in one locality it, like the game, was scarce. Most of the rocks

had none upon them; and there were very few from which we could collect

as much as a quart. The difficulty of gathering it was much augmented

by its crispness, and the firmness of its attachment.

“For this plant, poor though it was, we were compelled to dig. The

rocks in every case were to be cleared from snow, and often our pains

went unrewarded. The first time this food was tried it seemed to

answer well,--it at least filled the stomach, and thus kept off the

horrid sensation of hunger until we got to sleep; but it was found to

produce afterwards a painful diarrhœa. Besides this unpleasant effect,

fragments of gravel, which were mixed with the moss, tried our teeth.

We picked the plants from the rock with our knives, or a piece of

hoop-iron; and we could not avoid breaking off some particles of the

stone.”

These lichens are black and leather-like, studded with small black

points like “coiled wire buttons,” and attached either by an umbilical

root or by short and tenacious fibres to the rocks. Some of them may

be compared to a piece of shagreen, while others resemble a fragment

of burned skin. They are met with in cold bleak localities, on Alpine

heights of granite or micaceous schist, in almost all parts of the

world,--on the Scottish mountains, on the Andes, on the Himalayas; but

it is in the Polar World that they most abound, spreading over the

surface of every rock a sombre Plutonian vegetation, that seems to have

been scathed by fire and flame, until all its beauty and richness were

shrivelled up.

* * * * *

Some of the lichens in the less remote latitudes--as, for instance, in

Sweden--are far superior in usefulness to any of those we have hitherto

described. The Swedish peasant finds in them his pharmacy, his dyeing

materials, his food. With the various lichens that grow upon the trees

and rocks, says Frederika Bremer, he cures the virulent diseases which

sometimes afflict him, dyes the articles of clothing which he wears,

and poisons the noxious and dangerous animals which annoy him. The

juniper and cranberry give him their berries, which he brews into

drink; he makes a conserve of them, and mixes their juices with his

dry salt-meat, and is healthful and cheerful with these and with his

labour, of which he makes a pleasure.

The only lichen which has retained its place in modern pharmacy is

the well-known “Iceland moss.” It is still employed as a tonic and

febrifuge in ague; but more largely, when added to soups and chocolate,

as an article of diet for the feeble and consumptive. In Iceland the

_Cetraria Islandica_ is highly valued by the inhabitants. What

barley, rye, and oats are to the Indo-Caucasian races of Asia and

Western Europe; the olive, the fig, and the grape to the inhabitants of

the Mediterranean basin; rice to the Hindu; the tea-plant to the native

of the Flowery Land; and the date palm to the Arab,--is Iceland moss to

the Icelander, the Lapp, and the Eskimo.

It is found on some of the loftiest peaks of the Scottish Highlands;

but in Iceland it overspreads the whole country, flourishing more

abundantly and attaining to a larger growth on the volcanic soil of

the western coast than elsewhere. It is collected triennially, for

it requires three years to reach maturity, after the spots where it

thrives have been cleared. We are told that the meal obtained from

it, when mixed with wheat-flour, produces a greater quantity, though

perhaps a less nutritious quality, of bread than can be manufactured

from wheat-flour alone. The great objection to it is its bitterness,

arising from its peculiar astringent principle, cetraria. However, the

Lapps and Icelanders remove this disagreeable pungency by a simple

process. They chop the lichen to pieces, and macerate it for several

days in water mixed with salt of tartar or quicklime, which it absorbs

very readily; next they dry it, and pulverize it; then, mixed with the

flour of the common knot-grass, it is made into a cake, or boiled, and

eaten with reindeer’s milk.

* * * * *

_Mosses_ are abundant in the Arctic Regions, increasing in number

and beauty as we approach the Pole, and covering the desert land with

a thin veil of verdure, which refreshes the eye and gladdens the heard

of the traveller. On the hills of Lapland and Greenland, they are

extensively distributed; and the landscape owes most of its interest

to the charming contrasts they afford. Of all the genera, perhaps the

bog-mosses, _Sphagna_, are the most luxuriant; but at the same

time they are the least attractive, and the plains which they cover are

even drearier than the naked rock. In Melville Island these mosses form

upwards of a fourth part of the whole flora. Much finer to the sight is

the common hair-moss (_Polytrichum commune_), which extends over

the levels of Lapland, and is used by the Lapps, when they are bound on

long journeys, for a temporary couch. We may mention also the fork-moss

(_Dieranum_), which the Eskimos twist into wicks for their rude

lamps.

We have not space to dwell upon the grasses and fungi, though these

are numerous, and some of them interesting. The _cochlearia_, or

scurvy-grass, has often proved of great utility to Arctic explorers;

and Dr. Kane on more than one occasion availed himself of its

medicinal properties. Fungi extend almost to the very limits of Arctic

vegetation. The Greenlanders and Lapps make use of them for tinder,

or as styptics for stopping the flow of blood, and allaying pain. In

Siberia they abound. Frequently, in the high latitudes, they take the

form of “snow mould,” and are found growing on the barren and ungenial

snow. These species are warmed into life only when the sun has grown

sufficient to melt the superficial snow-crust, without producing a

general thaw, and then they spread far and wide in glittering wool-like

patches, dotted with specks of red or green. When the snow melts, they

overspread the grass beneath like a film of cobweb, and in a day or two

disappear.

In Siberia grows the fly-agaric (_Agaricus muscarius_), from which

the inhabitants obtain an intoxicating liquor of peculiarly dangerous

character. It has a tall white stem, surmounted by a dome of rich

orange scarlet, studded with white scaly tubercles, and in some parts

of Kamtschatka and the northern districts of Siberia is so abundant

that the ground sparkles and shines as if covered with a scarlet

carpet. The natives collect it during the hot summer months, and dry

it. Steeped in the juice of the whortleberry, it forms a powerful

intoxicating wine; or rolled up like a bolus, and swallowed without

chewing, it produces much the same effect as opium. On some, however,

it acts as an excitant, and induces active muscular exertion. A

talkative person, under its influence, cannot keep silence or secrets;

one fond of music, sings incessantly; and if a person who has partaken

of it wishes to step over a straw or small stick, he takes a stride or

jump sufficient to clear the trunk of a tree!

The Koriaks and Kamtschatkans personify this fungus, under the name of

_Mocho Moro_, as one of their _penates_, or household gods;

and if they are impelled by its effects to commit any dreadful crime,

they pretend they act only in obedience to commands which may not be

disputed. To qualify themselves for murder or suicide, they drink

additional doses of “this intoxicating product of decay and corruption.”

During Captain Penny’s voyage in search of Sir John Franklin, he picked

up two pieces of floating drift-wood, far beyond the usual limit of

Eskimo occupation, which, from their peculiar appearance, excited a

lively curiosity. The one was found in Robert Bay, off Hamilton Island,

lat. 76° 2’ north, and long. 76° west,--that is, in the route which

Franklin’s ships, it is supposed, had followed,--and was plainly a

fragment of wrought elm plank, which had been part of a ship’s timbers.

It exhibited three kinds of surface,--one that had been planed and

pitched, one roughly sawn, and the third split with an axe. The second

piece of drift-wood was picked up on the north side of Cornwallis

Island, in lat. 75° 36’ north, and long. 96° west. It was a branch of

white spruce, much bleached in some places, and in others charred and

blackened as if it had been used for fuel.

On both fragments traces of microscopic vegetation were discovered;

and as it was thought they might, if carefully examined, afford some

clue to the fate of Franklin’s expedition, they were submitted to Mr.

Berkeley, a well-known naturalist. In the report which he addressed to

the Admiralty, he stated that the vegetation in both cases resembled

the dark olive mottled patches with which wooden structures in this

country, if exposed to atmospheric influences, are speedily covered.

The bleached cells and fibres of the fragment of elm were filled up

with slender fungoid forms, _myceliæ_; while on its different

surfaces appeared several dark-coloured specks, belonging to the genus

_Phoma_. As it was not probable that plants so minute could have

retained, through the terrible severity of an Arctic winter, their

delicate naked spores in the perfect condition in which they were

found, Mr. Berkeley concluded that they must have been developed

through that same summer; while from three to four years, in those high

latitudes and amid the rigour of stormy ice-covered seas, would suffice

to produce the bleached appearance of the wood. Hence he inferred that

the plank had not been long exposed.

On the other fragment of drift-wood he discovered some deeply-embedded

minute black fungoid forms, called _Sporidesmium lepraria_. Unlike

the _phomas_, which are very ephemeral, these plants possess the

longevity of the lichens, and the same patches last for years unchanged

on the same pieces of wood, while their traces are discernible for

a still longer period. From their condition, Mr. Berkeley inferred

that the fungi on the drifted wood had not been recently developed,

but that, on the contrary, they were the remains of the species which

existed on the drift-wood when used for fuel by the unfortunate crews

of Franklin’s ships, the _Erebus_ and the _Terror_.

There can be no doubt whatever, as Dr. Macmillan remarks, considering

the circumstances in which they were discovered, and the remarkable

appearances they presented--there can be no reasonable doubt that

both fragments of drift-wood belonged to, or were connected with, the

lost ships; and the curious information regarding the course they

pursued at a certain time, furnished by witnesses so extraordinary

and unlikely as a few tiny dark specks of cryptogamic vegetation on

floating drift-wood, was confirmed, in a wonderful manner, by the

after-discovery of the first authentic account ever obtained of the sad

and pathetic history of Franklin’s expedition.

* * * * *

The reader will not expect to find the tundras of Northern Asia or

the shores of the Polar Sea rich in bud and bloom, yet even these

dreary wastes are not absolutely without floral decoration. Selinum

and cerathium, as well as the poppy and sorrel, andromeda, and several

species of heath, are mentioned by Dr. Kane as blooming in the

neighbourhood of Smith Strait. On the south coast of the Polar Sea Dr.

Richardson found a considerable variety of vegetation. We noticed, he

says, about one hundred and seventy phænogamous or flowering plants;

being one-fifth of the number of species which exist fifteen degrees

of latitude further to the southward. He adds:--The grasses, bents,

and rushes constitute only one-fifth of the number of species on the

coast, but the two former tribes actually cover more ground than

all the rest of the vegetation. The _cruciferæ_, or cross-like

tribe, afford one-seventh of the species, and the compound flowers are

nearly as numerous. The _shrubby plants_ that reach the sea-coast

are the common juniper, two species of willow, the dwarf-birch,

the common alder, the hippophaë, a gooseberry, the red bear berry

(_arbutus uva ursi_), the Labrador tea-plant, the Lapland rose,

the bog-whortleberry, and the crowberry. The kidney-leaved oxyria

grows in great abundance there, and occasionally furnished us with an

agreeable addition to our meals, as it resembles the garden-sorrel in

flavour, but is more juicy and tender. It is eaten by the natives, and

must, as well as many of the cress-like plants, prove an excellent

corrective of the gross, oily, rancid, and frequently putrid meat on

which they subsist. The small balls of the Alpine bistort, and the

long, succulent, and sweet roots of many of the astragaleæ, which grow

on the sandy shores, are eatable; but it does not seem that the Eskimos

are acquainted with their use. A few clumps of white spruce-fir, with

some straggling black spruces and canoe-birches, grow at the distance

of twenty or thirty miles from the sea, in sheltered situations on the

banks of rivers.

* * * * *

It has been pointed out that the principal characteristic of the

vegetation of the Arctic Regions is the predominance of perennial and

cryptogamous plants; but further southward, where night begins to

alternate with day, or in what may be called the sub-arctic zone, a

difference of species appears which greatly enhances the beauty of the

landscape. A rich and vividly-coloured flora adorns these latitudes in

Europe as well as in Asia during their brief but ardent summer, with

its intense radiance and intense warmth,--consisting of potentillas,

gentians, starry chick-weeds, spreading saxifrages and sedums, spiræas,

drabas, artemisias, and the like. The power of the sun is so great,

and the consequent rapidity of growth so extraordinary, that these

plants spring up, and blossom, and germinate, and perish in six weeks.

In a lower latitude many ligneous plants are found,--as berry-bearing

shrubs, the glaucous kalmia, the trailing azalea, the full-blossomed

rhododendron. The Siberian flora differs from the European in the

same latitudes by the inclusion of the North American genera, phlox,

mitella, and claytonia, and by the luxuriance of its asters, spiræas,

milk-vetches, and the saline plants goosefoot and saltwort.

* * * * *

In Novaia Zemlaia and other northern regions the vegetation is so

stunted that it barely covers the ground, but a much greater variety of

minute plants of considerable beauty are aggregated there in a limited

space than in the Alpine climes of Europe where the same genera occur.

This is due to the feebleness of the vegetation; for in the Swiss

Alps the same plant frequently usurps a large area, and drives out

every other,--as the dark blue gentian, the violet-tinted pansy, and

the yellow and pink stone-crops. But in the far north, where vitality

is weak and the seeds do not ripen, thirty different species, it has

been observed, may be seen “crowded together in a brilliant mass,” no

one being powerful enough to overcome its companions. In these frozen

climates plants may be said to live between the air and the earth, for

they scarcely raise their heads above the soil, and their roots, unable

to penetrate it, creep along the surface. All the woody plants--as the

betula nava, the reticulated willow, andromeda tetragona, with a few

bacciferous shrubs--trail upon the ground, and never rise more than an

inch or two above it. The _Salix lanata_, the giant of the Arctic

forests, is about five inches in height; while its stem, ten or twelve

feet long, lies hidden among the moss, and owes shelter, almost life,

to its humble neighbour.

* * * * *

From Novaia Zemlaia we pass to Spitzbergen, whose flora contains about

ninety-three species of flowering or phænogamous plants, which, like

those already mentioned, generally grow in tufts or patches, as if

for the sake of mutual protection. The delicate mosses which clothe

the moist lowlands, and the hardy lichens which incrust the rocks

up to the remotest limits of vegetation, are very numerous. Some of

the Spitzbergen plants are found on the Alps, at elevations varying

from 9000 to 10,000 feet above the sea-level; such as the _Arenaria

biflora_, the _Cerastium alpinum_, and the _Ranunculus glacialis_. The

only esculent plant is the _Cochlearia fenestrata_, which here loses

its bitter principles, so much complained of by our Arctic explorers,

and may be eaten as a salad. Iceland moss and several grasses afford

sustenance for the reindeer.

* * * * *

A very different description is given of Kamtschatka, to which we are

once more brought in the course of our rapid survey. Its climate is

much more temperate and uniform than that of Siberia, and as the air

is humid, the herbaceous vegetation is extraordinarily luxuriant.

Not only along the banks of the rivers and lakes, but in the avenues

and copses of the woodlands, the grass attains a height of fully

twelve feet, while the size of some of the compositæ and umbelliferæ

is really colossal. For example, the _Heraclium dulce_ and the

_Senecio cannabifolius_ frequently grow so tall as to overtop a

rider upon horseback. The pasturage is so rich that the grass generally

yields three crops every summer. A species of lily, the dark purple

_Fritallaria sarrana_, is very abundant, and the inhabitants use

its tubers instead of bread and meal. If the fruits of the bread-fruit

tree are pre-eminent among all others, as affording man a perfect

substitute for bread, the roots of the sarrana, which are very similar

in taste, rank perhaps immediately after them. The collection of

these tubers in the meadows is an important summer occupation of the

women, and one which is rather troublesome, as the plant never grows

gregariously, so that each root has to be dug out separately with a

knife. Fortunately the work of gathering the tubers is much lightened

by the activity of the Siberian field-vole, which excavates an ample

burrow, and stores it for winter provision with a large supply of

roots, chiefly those of the sarrana.

* * * * *

To sum up:--

What may be called the Arctic climate extends over nearly the whole

of Danish America, the newly-acquired possessions of the United

States, the original Hudson Bay Territory, and Labrador, down to that

unimportant watershed which separates from the tributaries of Hudson

Bay the three great basins of the St. Lawrence, the five great lakes,

and the Mississippi. This line of watershed undulates between the 52nd

and 49th parallels of latitude, from Belle Isle Strait to the sources

of the Saskatchewan, in the Rocky Mountains, where it inflects towards

the Pacific Ocean, skirting on the north the basin of the Columbia.

Thus bounded on the south, the Arctic lands of America, including the

groups of islands lying to the north and north-east, cannot occupy less

than 560,000 square leagues. They exceed, therefore, the superficial

area of the European lands, estimated at about 490,000 square leagues.

We propose to divide these lands into two zones or regions, the wooded

and the desert zones: the former, in America, includes the basins of

the Upper Mackenzie, the Churchill, the Nelson, and the Severn.

In the wooded zone the thermometer does not rise above zero until the

month of May. Then, under the influence of a more genial temperature,

the breath of life passes into the slumbering, inert vegetation. Then

the reddish shoots of the willows, the poplars, and the birches hang

out their long cottony catkins; a pleasant greenness spreads over copse

and thicket; the dandelion, the burdock, and the saxifrages lift their

heads in the shelter of the rocks; the sweet-brier fills the air with

fragrance, and the gooseberry and the strawberry are put forth by a

kindly nature; while the valleys bloom and the hill-sides are glad with

the beauty of the thuja, the larch, and the pine.

The boundary between the wooded zone and the barren would be shown by a

line drawn from the mouth of the Churchill in Hudson Bay to Mount St.

Elias on the Pacific coast, traversing the southern shores of the Bear

and the Slave Lakes. To the north, this barren zone touches on eternal

snow, and includes the ice-bound coasts of the Parry Archipelago; to

the east and the north-east, identity of climate and uniform character

of soil bring within it the greatest part of Labrador and all Greenland.

In Asia the isothermal line of O° descends towards the 55th parallel of

latitude, one lower than in America,--though to the north of it some

important towns are situated, as Tobolsk, lat. 58° 11’; Irkutsk, lat,

58° 16’; and Yakutsk, lat. 62°.

In Continental Europe, the only Arctic lands properly so called,

and distinguished by an Arctic flora, are Russian Lapland and the

deeply-indented coast of Northern Russia. Far away to the north, and

separated from the continent by a narrow arm of the sea, lie the three

almost contiguous islands known as Novaia Zemlaia (lat. 68° 50’ to 76°

N.). And still further north, almost equidistant from the Old World and

the New, lies the gloomy mountainous archipelago of Spitzbergen (lat.

77° to 81°, and long. 10° to 24°).

* * * * *

We have now only to recapitulate the general characters of the Arctic

flora, as they would present themselves to a traveller advancing from

the wooded zone into the desert, and thence to the borders of the Polar

Sea.

On the southern margin of the wooded region, as in Sweden, Russia,

and Siberia, extend immense forests, chiefly of coniferous trees.

As we move towards the north these forests dwindle into scattered

woods and isolated coppices, composed chiefly of stunted poplars

and dwarf birches and willows. The sub-alpine myrtle, and a small

creeping honeysuckle with rounded leaves, are met with in favourable

situations. Continuing our northerly progress, we wholly leave behind

the arborescent species; but the rocks and cliffs are bright with

plants belonging to the families of the ranunculaceæ, saxifragaceæ,

cruciferæ, and gramineæ. To the dwarf firs and pigmy willows succeed

a few scattered shrubs--such as the gooseberry, the strawberry, the

raspberry, pseudo-mulberry (_Rubus chamæmorus_)--indigenous to

this region, and the Lapland oleander (_Rhododendron laponicum_).

Still advancing northward, we find, at the extreme limits of the

mainland, some drabas (_Cruciferæ_), potentillas (_Rosaceæ_), burweeds

and rushes (_Cyperaceæ_), and lastly a great abundance of mosses and

lichens. The commonest mosses are the _Splechnum_, which resembles

small umbels; and, in moist places, the _Sphagnum_, or bog-moss, whose

successive accumulations, from a remote epoch, have formed, with the

detritus of the _Cyperaceæ_, extensive areas of peat, which at a future

day will perhaps be utilized for fuel.

* * * * *

We come now to examine the forms of Animal Life which exist under the

conditions of climate and vegetation we have been describing.

Foremost we must place the animal which, in the Arctic World, occupies

much the same position as the camel in the Tropical,--the reindeer

(_Cervus turandus_).

In size the reindeer resembles the English stag, but his form is less

graceful and more compressed. He stands about four feet six inches

in height. Long, slender, branching horns embellish his head. The

upper part of his body is of a brown colour, the under part is white;

but as the animal advances in years his entire coat changes to a

grayish-white, and, in not a few cases, is pure white. The nether part

of the neck, or dewlap, droops like a pendent beard. The hoofs are

large, long, and black; and so are the secondary hoofs on the hind

feet. The latter, when the animal is running, make by their collision a

curious clattering sound, which may be heard at a considerable distance.

The reindeer anciently invaded Europe and Asia to a comparatively low

latitude; and Julius Cæsar includes it among the animals of the great

Hercynian forest. Even in our own time large herds traverse the wooded

heights of the southern prolongation of the Ouralian range. Between the

Volga and the Don they descend to the 46th parallel; and they extend

their wanderings as far as the very foot of the Caucasus, on the banks

of the Kouma. Still, the proper habitat of the reindeer is that region

of ice and snow bounded by the Arctic Circle,--or, more exactly, by the

isothermal line of 0° C.

Both the wild and the tame species change their feeding-grounds with

the seasons. In winter they come down into the plains and valleys; in

summer they retire to the mountains, where the wild herds gain the

most elevated terraces, in order to escape the pertinacious attacks of

their insect-enemies. It is a fact worthy of note that every species

of animal is infested by a parasitical insect. The œstre so terrifies

the reindeer that the mere appearance of one in the air will infuriate

a troop of a thousand animals. In the moulting season these insects

deposit their eggs in the skin of the unfortunate animal, and there

the larvæ lodge and multiply _ad infinitum_, incessantly renewing

centres of suppuration.

To the natives of North America the reindeer is invaluable. There is

hardly a part of the animal not made available for some useful purpose.

Clothing made of its skin is, according to Sir J. Richardson, so

impervious to cold, that, with the addition of a coverlet made of the

same material, any one so protected may bivouac on the snow with safety

in the most intense cold of the Arctic night. The venison, when in high

condition, has several inches of fat on the haunches, and is said to

equal that of the fallow-deer in our English parks; the tongue, and a

portion of the tripe, are reckoned most delicious morsels. Pemmican

is made by pouring one-third part of fat over two-third parts of the

pounded meat, and mixing fat and meat thoroughly together. The Eskimos

and Greenlanders consider the stomach, or paunch, with its contents,

a special delicacy; and Captain Sir James Ross says that the contents

form the only vegetable food ever tasted by the natives of Boothia. For

the reindeer is a herbivorous animal, and feeds upon the mosses and

grasses.

[Illustration: WILD REINDEER.]

The reindeer is by no means a graceful animal; its joints are large,

and powerful in proportion to its size; the divided hoofs are very

large, and as the animal is compelled to lift its feet high when going

over the snow, its gallop has none of that beautiful elastic spring

which characterizes the deer of our own islands, though its pace is

“telling,” and soon carries it ahead of everything but the long-winded,

long-legged wolf.

The stags cast their antlers, and the does drop their young, in May or

June, about the time of the first thaw. The males and females are then

very seldom found together; the female deer collecting in small herds

with their young; the little creatures, which seem all eyes, ears,

and legs, taking alarm at any unaccustomed sound or the slightest

appearance of danger. The summer vegetation fattens the bucks and does

amazingly, and the fawns thrive and develop; all three, says Osborn,

having a comparative holiday, and getting into condition to face the

trials of the coming winter; while the wolf and the fox, their sworn

enemies, are pursuing the infant seals and bears, or attending to their

own little domestic duties. But when the autumn frost sets in, and

hardens the ground, and the dense snow once more overspreads the dreary

northern landscape, the wolves resume their attacks on the unfortunate

deer.

For warmth or protection, and following the natural instincts of

gregarious animals, they now begin to collect together in large herds

of bucks, does, and fawns, numbering as many as sixty and seventy head.

The stags seem to undertake the discipline of these large companies, as

well as to be responsible for their safety.

Captain Mecham relates that, in October 1852, when crossing that part

of Melville Island which intervenes between Liddon Gulf and Winter

Harbour, he fell in with as many as three hundred head of deer; and he

adds that reindeer were always in sight, in herds varying from ten to

sixty in number. One of these herds, containing twenty males, he tried

to stalk up to on the 7th of October, but failed in getting a shot at

them; for although the does, with the inherent weakness of their sex,

showed an excessive curiosity, and made one or two efforts to desert

the herd and examine the stranger, the stags would in nowise tolerate

such conduct, but chastised them smartly with their antlers, and kept

the herd together and in motion by running rapidly round and round,

uttering at the same time a strange noise which seemed to alarm the

herd, and keep it flying from the suspected danger.

The coat of the reindeer in summer-time is remarkably thin, and adapted

admirably in colour to that of the snow-denuded soil; but as winter

approaches, it thickens, and gradually resumes its snowy whiteness.

Though not, strictly speaking, a _fur_, it forms an admirable

non-conducting substance.

As winter, “ruler of the inverted year,” extends his sway over the

Polar World, and food grows scarce and indifferent, and has to be

sought over larger areas, the herds break up into companies of ten

or twenty animals; the lichens, the reindeer moss already described

(_Cetraria Islandica_), and the sprouts of the creeping willow

forming their principal food.

On this branch of our subject Admiral Sherard Osborn makes two

suggestive remarks.

Arctic vegetation, he observes, has no time in the autumn to wither

or decay--while in full bloom, and before the juices have time to

return into the parent root or be otherwise dissipated, the “magic

hand of the frost king” strikes them; and thus the wisdom of the

Creator has provided for the nourishment of his creatures a fresh and

warmth-creating food, lying hid under a mantle of snow, which the

instinct of those Arctic animals teaches them to remove and reach the

stores so beneficently preserved beneath.

Moreover, most herbivorous animals have a slow system of digestion,

even in a domestic state; as, for instance, our cattle and sheep. This

appears to be more conspicuously the case in the musk-ox, the reindeer,

and the Arctic hare, and is of great utility in lands where vegetation

is scanty and wide-spread, and the weather occasionally so severe as to

compel these creatures, for two or three days at a time, to think only

of their safety by seeking shelter from the snow-storms in deep ravines

or under lofty cliffs. It appears in their case as if Nature extracted

from their food a greater quantity of nourishment than she does from

that of animals in more southern latitudes; or possibly, the food,

by the mere act of remaining in the stomach or intestines, serves to

check the cravings of appetite, though no further nutriment should be

extracted.

Most of the musk-oxen and deer shot in Captain M’Clintock’s expedition,

and especially the musk-oxen, had their entrails distended with food

apparently quite digested, while the surrounding country in many cases

was absolutely barren and lifeless,--inducing the conclusion that these

creatures had been a long time collecting their supplies, as also that

it had been a long time swallowed, and necessitated the full activity

of the vital principle to prevent the food from proving a source of

disease. This, indeed, was clearly proved in the case of the musk-oxen,

which, if shot, and left twelve hours without being disembowelled,

grew tainted throughout with a strong musky odour, rendering the flesh

uneatable.

It may also be stated, as an illustration of the facility with which

the reindeer can winter in high latitudes, that in Lapland, where they

are used as beasts of draught, a daily supply of four pounds of lichen

(_Cenomyce rangiferina_) is considered ample for a working animal;

and on this dietary a reindeer will be in sufficiently good condition

to go without food occasionally for two or three days, and yet, to all

appearance, not to be distressed.

Thus, as regards its stores of food, and its provision against the

severity of the Arctic winter, the reindeer would seem to be suitably

and amply endowed; and its greatest trial is the incessant rapacity of

the wolves that follow its track throughout the winter season. As that

season advances, the unfortunate animal apparently resigns itself to an

evil which it cannot avoid or avert; and the calm composure with which

a small troop of these creatures will graze with an _entourage_

of half a dozen wolves is not less curious to the observer than

philosophical on the part of the reindeer!

“A herd of deer,” says an eye-witness, “thus surrounded by the wolves,

who were too great cowards to rush in upon their prey, would be

startled every now and then by the long-drawn unearthly howl of the

hungry brutes; sometimes a frightened deer, horror-stricken at the

abominable chant, dashes madly away from the herd,--away all, or a

portion, of the wolfish fraternity go after it. In many cases the scene

may be briefly summed up with the old three-volume _denouement_

of--a rush, a shriek, a crunching of bones, and snarling of beasts of

prey, and all is over! for the wonderful powers of swallow and horrid

voracity of an Arctic wolf must be seen to be understood; no writer

would peril his reputation for veracity by repeating what has been seen

on that head. But sometimes the frightened deer gains the open country,

and goes wonderful distances dogged by the persevering wolf, who

assuredly has it, unless another herd is met which admits the hunted

deer into its ranks.

“Occasionally, whilst a herd of deer are grazing, one of them may

happen to hit upon a spot where the food is plentiful; it naturally

lingers there, while the herd is moving slowly on against the wind.

The wolves immediately mark the straggler, and stealthily crawl on,

their object being to cut him off from the herd; that effected, there

is a howl and a rush, which if the deer does not evade by extraordinary

exertions, his fate is instantly sealed.”

These scenes are enacted throughout the long Arctic winter. When sight

is rendered useless, scent comes to the aid of the rapacious destroyer;

and we can well believe that many an explorer, in the December darkness

of the frozen wastes, has often wished his olfactory nerves were as

sensitively organized as those of the wolf. For although he can then

hear the reindeer, it is impossible to see them, except when they hurry

across the dark but snowy landscape; and many a bad shot has been made

by a hungry seaman at a large pair of melancholy eyes which peered out

of the enveloping mist, because he could not tell, for the life of him,

whether the animal was distant two or twenty yards.

In the dreadful winter of 1852–53, the deer approached close to the

exploring-ship _Investigator_, having quitted the land and

traversed the belt of ice. It is difficult to say whether this was

done with a view of seeking the warmth which instinct, if not scent,

told them radiated from the vessels,--the vessels, compared with the

temperature everywhere prevailing (namely, 9·5° below freezing-point),

being complete volcanoes of heat; or whether it was for security

against their wolfish enemies. Probably, it was for the first-named

reason; inasmuch as it is recorded that the foxes of Leopold Harbour,

in 1848, soon became aware of the warmer atmosphere produced by the

presence of Sir James Ross’s squadron, and sagaciously burrowed and

bred in the embankments thrown up around the ships.

But, at length, winter and its sorrows pass away, and early in the new

year a happier life dawns on the much-tried reindeer. In February and

March the seals begin to breed, and as the attention of the wolves and

other beasts of prey is then drawn to the helpless young, which are

truly “delicious morsels,” the holidays of the reindeer may be said to

commence. We may remind the reader also that the Arctic hare and the

lemming winter in the icy north, and yield occasional meals to wolf and

fox.

The spring returns, and as the sun rises above the horizon, the great

herds gradually break up and scatter abroad; and the deer may then

be seen in wandering groups of three or four, until once more the

autumn-twilight deepens, and they reassemble in numerous companies.

As the reindeer is the camel of the Polar World, so the Arctic wolf may

be said to occupy the place of the tiger; so daring is its courage,

and so fierce its lust of blood. Assembling in large packs, they are

not afraid to haunt the immediate neighbourhood of man. In Captain

M’Clintock’s expedition, they gathered round the _Investigator_

at such close quarters, that it was unsafe for the crew to leave the

ship, unless in companies, and well-armed; and with their melancholy

howls they made night hideous. Five of them attempted to pounce on an

Eskimo dog which had long been the pet of the _Investigator_. One

of these brutes is described as a “perfect giant,” standing nearly four

feet high at the shoulder, and having a footmark as big as a reindeer’s.

Our English seamen planned many a clever scheme to entrap these wary

creatures, but all failed, while some of the encounters with them

were unpleasantly close, and the risk very considerable. One day, the

boatswain, while out shooting, broke by a shot two of the legs of a

fine buck reindeer. Evening coming on, and he knowing the animal could

not drag itself far, returned to the ship. Next morning, he started

at an early hour to secure his prize. What was his disgust, when he

arrived at the place, to find his booty in the possession of five large

wolves and several foxes! Determined to have, at all events, a share,

the boatswain advanced, shouting with all his might, and hurling at the

thieves every opprobrious phrase he could invent, yet afraid to fire

his single-barrelled gun at any one of them, for fear the rest should

serve him as they were serving the buck; more particularly as they

appeared inclined to show fight, and made no sign of retreat until he

was within four yards. Even then only four had the grace to move away,

sitting down a pistol-shot off, and howling most lamentably.

The boatswain picked up a leg of the deer, which had been dismembered,

and then grasped one end of the half-devoured carcass, while a large

she wolf tugged against him at the other.

It must be owned that this position was a disagreeable one, and had the

howling of the four wolves brought others of their kind to the rescue,

the consequences of this affray between hungry wolves and a no less

hungry sailor might have proved serious. Fortunately, the interpreter,

who chanced likewise to be out shooting on a neighbouring hill, had his

attention attracted by the noise of the brutes, and made his appearance

on the scene. He afterwards described it as the strangest he had ever

witnessed. So close were the boatswain and the carnivora in their

struggle for the meat, that he fancied the latter had actually attacked

the former. On the arrival of this reinforcement the wolves decamped,

leaving the gallant boatswain with only twenty pounds weight of meat,

instead of the one hundred and twenty his prize must have originally

weighed.

* * * * *

The identities between the Arctic dog and the Arctic wolf are so

important that Dr. Kane agrees with Mr. Broderip in assigning to these

animals a family origin. The oblique position of the wolf’s eye is not

uncommon among the Eskimo dogs. Dr. Kane had a slut, one of the tamest

and most affectionate of his team, who had the long legs, the compact

body, the drooping tail, and the wild scared expression of the eye,

which some naturalists have supposed to distinguish the wolf alone.

When domesticated early--and it is easy to domesticate him--the wolf

follows and loves you like a dog. “That they are fond of wandering

proves nothing; many of our pack will stray for weeks,” says Kane,

“into the wilderness of ice; yet they cannot be persuaded, when they

come back, to inhabit the kennel we have built for them only a few

hundred yards off. They crouch around for the companionship of men.”

Both animals howl in unison alike; and, in most parts, their footprint

is the same.

The musk-ox (_Ovibos moschatus_) is one of the largest of

the Polar ruminants. As its zoological name indicates, it is an

intermediary between the ox and the sheep. Smaller than the former,

larger than the latter, it reminds us of both in its shape and general

appearance. It has an obtuse nose; horns broad at the base, covering

the forehead and crown of the head, and curving downwards between

the eye and ear until about the level of the mouth, where they turn

upwards; the tail is short, and almost hidden by the thickness of the

shaggy hair, which is generally of a dark brown, and of two kinds, as

with all the animals of the Polar Regions; a long hair, which on some

parts of the body is thick and curled, and, underneath, a fine kind of

soft, ash-coloured wool; the legs are short and thick, and furnished

with narrow hoofs, like those of the moose. The female is smaller than

the male, and her horns are smaller. Her general colour is black,

except that the legs are whitish, and along the back runs an elevated

ridge or mane of dusky hair.

The musk-ox, as his name implies, throws out a strong odour of

musk,--with which, indeed, his very flesh is impregnated, so that the

scent is communicated to the knife used in cutting up the animal. Not

the less is he regarded as a valuable booty by the Indians and the

Eskimos, who hunt him eagerly. He wanders in small troops over the

rocky prairies which extend to the north of the great lakes of North

America. He is a fierce-tempered animal, and in defence of his female

will fight desperately.

His general habits resemble strongly those of the reindeer; but his

range appears to be principally limited to Melville Island, Banks Land,

and the large islands to the south-east of the latter.

One of our Arctic explorers describes the musk-oxen as all very wild

in April, and as generally seen in large herds from ten to seventy in

number. In June they were stupidly tame, and seemed to be oppressed

by their heavy coats of wool, which were hanging loosely down their

shoulders and hind-quarters in large quantities; the herds much

smaller, and generally composed of cows and calves.

The heavy coat of wool with which the musk-oxen are provided, is a

perfect protection against any temperature. It consists of a long fine

black hair, and in some cases white (for it is not ascertained that

these oxen change their colour during the winter), with a beautiful

fine wool or fur underneath, softer and richer than the finest alpaca

wool, as well as much longer in the staple. This mantle apparently

touches the ground; and the little creature looks, it is said, like a

bale of black wool, mounted on four short nervous goat-like legs, with

two very bright eyes, and a pair of sharp “wicked-shaped” horns peering

out of one end of it.

[Illustration: THE MUSK-OX.]

They seem to be of very uncertain temper, sometimes standing stupidly

glaring at their assailants, whetting their horns against their fore

legs; at other times, they will rush furiously against their hunters.

Captain Mecham discovered very great numbers of musk-oxen near the

head of Hardy Bay, Melville Island. On one plain he observed as many

as seventy grazing within a circuit of two miles; on his approach,

they divided into herds of about fifteen each, headed by two or three

enormous bulls. Their manœuvres, he says, were so quick and regular

that they might be more fittingly compared to squadrons of cavalry than

anything else he could think of. One herd moved forward at a gallop,

several times within rifle-shot, and formed in perfect line with bulls

in the van, presenting a formidable array of horns. The last time they

advanced at a gallop until within about sixty yards, when they formed

in line, the bulls snorting wildly, and tearing up the snow. But as

soon as Captain Mecham fired they wheeled round promptly, rejoined the

main body, and made off out of sight, only waiting occasionally for the

wounded animal.

The following graphic account of an encounter with a musk-ox is given

by Captain M’Clintock:--

“We saw and shot two very large bulls--a well-timed supply, as the last

of the venison was used up; we found them to be in better condition

than any we had ever seen. I shall never forget the death-struggle

of one of these noble bulls; a Spanish bull-fight gives no idea of

it, and even the slaughter of the bear is tame in comparison. This

animal was shot through the lungs, and blood gushed from his nostrils

upon the snow. As it stood fiercely watching us, prepared yet unable

to charge, its small but fixed glaring eyes were almost concealed by

masses of shaggy hair, and its whole frame was fearfully convulsed with

agony; the tremulous motion was communicated to its enormous covering

of tangled wool and hair; even the coarse thick mane seemed to rise

indignant, and slowly waved from side to side. It seemed as if the very

fury of its passion was pent up within it for one final and revengeful

charge. There was no roaring; the majestic beast was dumb; but the

wild gleam of savage fire which shot from his eyes, and his menacing

attitude, were far more terrible than the most hideous bellow. We

watched in silence, for time was doing our work, nor did we venture to

lower our guns until, his strength becoming exhausted, he reeled and

fell.

“I have never witnessed such an intensity of rage, nor imagined for one

moment that such an apparently stupid brute, under any circumstances

of pain and passion, could have presented such a truly appalling

spectacle. It is almost impossible to conceive a more terrific sight

than that which was presented to us in the dying moments of this

matchless denizen of the northern wilds.”

* * * * *

It seems doubtful whether the wolf, which is naturally a most cowardly

creature, can act on the offensive against the musk-ox; and most Arctic

navigators seem of opinion that it attacks only lame or sickly cattle.

The activity of these oxen, and-their goat-like power of climbing, is

very remarkable, and much at variance with their clumsy appearance.

They have been seen making their way, when frightened, up the face of

a cliff which defied all human efforts, and going down the precipitous

sides of ravines by alternately sliding upon their hams, or pitching

and arresting their downward course, as Sherard Osborn remarks, by

the use of the magnificent shield of horn which spreads across their

foreheads, in a manner to excite the liveliest astonishment of the

spectator.

* * * * *

The Arctic Fox (_Canis lagopus_) cannot compare with either of

the preceding animals in importance or interest, yet it figures very

largely in the journals of our Arctic explorers. It is smaller than the

common European fox; has a sharp nose, and short rounded ears, almost

concealed in its fur; the legs are short, and the toes covered both

above and below with a thick soft fur; the tail is shorter than that

of the common fox, but more bushy. Its range is very extensive, for it

is found in the lands bordering on the Polar Sea in both continents.

As winter approaches, its coat of hair grows thick and ragged; until

at length it becomes as white as snow--the change of colour taking

place last on the ridge of the back and the tip of the tail. Its food

consists of various small quadrupeds,--such as the Arctic hare and the

lemming,--on all kinds of water-fowl and their eggs, on the carcasses

of fish, shell-fish, and the refuse of the young seals killed and

devoured by the Polar bear. In the track of the latter it seems to hunt

systematically. It swims with dexterity, and will cross from island to

island in search of prey. Its fur is light and warm, though not very

durable, and for the sake of this fur it is pursued both in Arctic

Asia, Greenland, and Hudson Bay. It is a wary animal, however, and not

easily caught.

[Illustration: ARCTIC FOXES.]

Dr. Hayes affords us an illustration of this statement.

As he and a follower, named Bonsall, on one occasion were exploring

in Northumberland Island, they discovered a fox scampering away over

the plain. Bonsall gave chase, but could not arrive within shooting

distance. Another was then heard barking overhead at them. Dr. Hayes

seized his gun, and climbing over some huge boulders which filled

the bottom of the gorge, endeavoured, by crawling behind a rock, to

overtake or approach the animal; but it seemed to be aware of his

intentions, and scampering away, led him a wild chase across the plain.

The astute Reynard first made off, so that his assailant “could not

cover him upon the cliff;” and when out of danger, perched upon a

stone, and barked at him in the most tantalizing manner. The doctor

approached within long range. Immediately, as he was about to bring his

gun to his shoulder, it dropped behind the stone and fled to another,

where it set up the same rapid chatter,--a shrill “Huk! huk! huk!”

sounding like a mixture of anger and defiance. Again Dr. Hayes tried

to approach it, but with no better success; round and round it ran,

until at length, weary of following it, Dr. Hayes fired. Some of the

shot probably touched it, for it screamed loudly; but it fled with

remarkable rapidity, and finally baffled its pursuer.

As the flesh of the fox is by no means to be despised, and, indeed,

ranks as a dainty in the bill of fare of an Arctic navigator, a hot

pursuit of it is often maintained, and traps are constructed to ensure

its capture. These are usually built on much the same principle as a

rabbit-trap. Selecting a smooth level rock, the trappers arrange some

flat stones of about six inches thick, so as to enclose on three sides

an area of six inches by two feet and a half. Over this enclosure other

flat stones are laid; and between the two used to close up one of the

ends a peg is inserted, so as to project about an inch within the trap.

To this peg, by means of a loop, is loosely hung a small piece of meat;

and to the same peg, outside, is attached another loop made at the end

of a cord, the cord being carried up through the rear of the trap, and

over the top to the front, where it is fastened round a thin flat flag

of slate, which moves freely up and down, being guided and held by a

couple of large blocks placed one on either side of the entrance.

The way in which this machinery works is very simple:--

The fox enters under the slide or trap-door, advances to the rear,

seizes the bait, and attempts to back out. The bait, of course, is

pulled from the peg, and with it the loop supporting the door comes

off. As soon as its support is removed down comes the door, and Master

Reynard is entrapped. Everything now depends on the manner in which the

cracks have been closed up; for if the animal can thrust its little

nose between a couple of stones, it will assuredly effect its escape.

Nor is it less important that the enclosure should not be sufficiently

large to enable the fox to turn round; for in that case it generally

contrives to loosen the door, and depart in infinite glee.

[Illustration: A FOX TRAP.]

* * * * *

The Arctic fox is described by Dr. Hayes as the prettiest and most

provoking of living creatures. One which he unsuccessfully chased for

fully three hours was about the size of a domestic cat, round and

plump, white as the snow, with a long pointed nose, and a trailing

bushy tail, which seemed to be its particular pride. It was quite

evident that it enjoyed the perplexities of its hunters, as it leaped

from rock to rock, or circled round and about them, and showed the

utmost indifference to the miseries of their famished condition. It

rolled and tossed about among the loose drift, now springing into the

air, now bounding away, now stopping short, and now cocking its head to

one side and elevating one foot, as if listening, seeming all the time

to be intent on exhibiting its “points” to its enemies, for whom it did

not care the value of the minutest part of its very pretty tail. Weary

and exhausted, Dr. Hayes abandoned the pursuit, and returned to his

camp, followed by the fox, though always at a safe distance; and when

they last caught sight of it, as they looked back from the rocks above

the hut, it was mounted on an elevation, uttering its shrill sharp cry,

in apparent mockery of their defeat.

* * * * *

Of the supposed relations between the bear and the fox, Dr. Kane

remarks that he once thought his observations had confirmed them. It

is certain that they are frequently found together; the bear striding

on ahead with his prey, the fox behind gathering in the crumbs as they

fall; and Dr. Kane often saw the parasite licking at the traces of a

wounded seal which his champion had borne off over the snow. The story

is that the two hunt in couples. This may well be doubted, though it

is clear that the inferior animal rejoices in his association with

the superior, at least for the profits, if not the sympathy it brings

to him. “I once wounded a bear,” says Dr. Kane, “when I was out with

Morton, and followed him for twelve miles over the ice. A miserable

little fox travelled close behind his patron, and licked up the blood

wherever he lay down. The bear at last made the water; and as we

returned from our fruitless chase, we saw the fox running at full speed

along the edge of the thin ice as if to rejoin him.”

* * * * *

A welcome addition to the meagre fare of the Arctic navigator is

furnished by the Arctic Hare (_Lepus glacialis_), which, like

the reindeer, collects in herds or troops as winter approaches. As

many as two hundred have been seen at a time; and at one of their

favourite haunts--Cape Dundas, Melville Island--might be seen a

complete highway, three yards broad, which the tread of their numbers

had beaten through the snow. In winter they seek their food and burrow

for protection under the snow-crust. Captain M’Clintock states that

they are ubiquitous in the Polar Regions, but that, of course, they

are most numerous where the pasture is most abundant, as on Banks

Land and Melville Island. The sportsmen of the two discovery ships,

_Resolute_ and _Intrepid_, shot one hundred and sixty-one

hares in a twelvemonth on Melville Island; their average weight, when

fit for the table, was seven pounds, and from ten to twelve pounds

including skin and offal.

In the warm brief summer the hare takes refuge from the pursuit of

beasts of prey under large boulders, or in the steep face of rocky

ravines. It is then found in groups of from twelve to twenty. So

delicate is their skin, that though the winter fur is of exceeding

beauty and brilliant whiteness, it cannot be applied to any purpose of

utility. They do not hibernate; and our explorers generally found them

amongst the heavy hummocks of the floe-ice, as if they fled to that

rugged ground from the wolves or foxes.

* * * * *

In the range of the Altaï, and extending even into Kamtschatka, we

meet with the Alpine Hare (_Lagomys Alpinus_); a small rodent,

scarcely exceeding a guinea-pig in size, and measuring in length nine

inches only: it has a long head, with short, broad, and rounded ears.

Its favourite places of sojourn are among the rocks and cataracts of

wild wooded regions, where it forms burrows beneath the rocks, or

inhabits their fissures. When the sky is bright, and the sunshine

genial, they seldom leave their holes in the daytime; but in dull

weather they may be seen bounding among the rocks, and making the

echoes resound with their low whistle or bird-like chirp. In the autumn

they make ready against winter need by collecting a large assortment

of the most nutritious herbs and grasses, which, after drying in the

sun, they arrange in heaps of various sizes, according to the number

of animals engaged in the task; and as these heaps are often several

feet in height and breadth, they may be easily distinguished even

through the deep snow, and frequently prove of great service to the

Siberian sable-hunters, whose horses would perish but for the supplies

thus strangely afforded. Hence, wherever a Siberian or a Tartar

tribe is found, the Alpine hare possesses a distinctive name,--and,

notwithstanding its diminutiveness, is highly valued.

* * * * *

Another rodent which deserves to be remembered in these pages, is the

Arctic or Hudson Bay Lemming (_Myodus lemmus_), which is found in

Labrador, and on all the American mainland washed by the cold waters of

the Arctic Ocean. It has been described as “a perfect diamond edition

of the guinea-pig.” In habits it resembles the hare very closely,

except that it is more gregarious, and is generally found in large

families. In summer it is of an ashy colour, with a tawny tinge on the

back, a dusky streak along its middle, and a pale stripe on either

side. It has the repute of being exceedingly inoffensive; and is tamed

so easily that, when caught, it becomes reconciled to its captivity

in a day or two, and will soon show itself sensible of its master’s

caresses. In winter it is perfectly white,--white as snow, from which

it can be distinguished only by the keen scent of the fox or the Eskimo

dog.

About the end of May, or early in June, it leaves the land and

seeks the floating ice; for what purpose does not seem as yet to be

accurately ascertained. Is it due to an instinct of migration, such

as the Norwegian lemming so powerfully exhibits? It may be that the

thaws force them from the land, or that, as the seamen say, “Them

blessed little lemmings must be arter salt!” They have often been found

steering off shore from the north coast of Melville Island, leaving

comparative plenty in their rear; and, so far as could be made out,

on a clear day, from land of considerable height, there was nothing

in the shape of _terra firma_ in the direction they were taking.

When thus exposed upon the open floe, owls, gulls, and foxes pick them

up for food. Can it be that Providence occasions, or has ordained this

exodus for the purpose of feeding these creatures, and of thinning down

the numbers of an animal which would otherwise multiply exceedingly,

and devour all the vegetation of a naturally barren region?

From an Arctic journal it would appear that the lemmings are preyed

upon by the Polar bear. We transcribe a graphic passage in further

illustration of the habits of that remarkable carnivore:--

“Seeing some drift-wood lying about,” says a gallant navigator, “which

it was important should be examined, I halted and encamped, dispersing

the men along the beach to bring all in they could find. Walking

landward to obtain a view from a hill, I was startled to see a she-bear

and two cubs some distance inland. Watching them carefully, I was not

a little interested to see the mother applying her gigantic muscular

power to turning over the large blocks of sandstone which strewed

the plain, and under which the unlucky lemmings at this season take

shelter. Directly the she-bear lifted the stones, which she did by

sitting upon her hams and pulling them towards her with her fore paws,

the cubs rushed in and seized their prey, tossing them up in the air

in their wantonness. After repeating this operation until the young

fry must have made a very good meal, I was glad to witness the bear’s

mode of suckling her young--a sight, I should think, rarely seen.

Seated on her haunches, with the backbone arched, so as to bring the

breasts (which were situated between the shoulders) as low as possible,

the youngsters sucked away in a standing attitude. Anxious to secure

this family-party, we proceeded to burn all sorts of strong-smelling

articles; and at last she brought her babes down, though very warily,

and when more than one hundred yards off turned away, evidently

suspicious.”

* * * * *

In the sub-Arctic regions are found some of those animals which furnish

commerce with the costliest furs. They all belong, however, to the

family _Mustelidæ_, represented in temperate climes by the common

weasel (_Musteles_).

The marten of North America is, in fact, the cousin-german of the

weasel, and not less ferocious in its habits. In the forests of fir

and birch which it loves to frequent, it preys upon the small rodents,

the birds, and, if its appetite is very keen, upon the reptiles. It

scales trees as nimbly as the cat; and its flexible body enables it

to insinuate itself into the smallest openings, where a cat could

not pass, and into the burrows and hollows of the trees or rocks in

which its victims seek shelter. It is, however, a pretty animal, with

vivacious ways, an astute physiognomy, and a rich coat of fur.

In the wooded zone which borders on the desert region of the Polar

World are found both the Pine Marten (_Mustela martes_) and

Pennant’s Marten (_Mustela Canadensis_). The fur of the former

is of a very superior quality, and its skin forms a great article of

commerce. It burrows in the ground, and feeds upon mice, rabbits, and

partridges. The Canadian marten is larger than the preceding; longer

and stronger. It lives in the woods, preferring damp places to dry; and

climbs with a remarkable amount of ease and dexterity.

* * * * *

The Sable (_Mustela zibellina_) is much more highly esteemed for

its fur than any other of the weasel tribe. It has long whiskers,

rounded ears, large feet (the soles of which are covered with fur),

white claws, and a long bushy tail. The general colour of the fur is

brown, more or less brilliant, but the lower parts of the throat and

neck are grayish.

A vivacious and nimble animal is the sable, which dwells in the

remotest recesses of the forests, beneath the roots of trees, and in

holes of the earth, and penetrates to the very borders of the realm

of perpetual snow. Prodigious numbers are killed in Siberia, during

the months of November, December, and January. The hunters assemble in

large companies, and make their way down the great rivers in boats,

carrying sufficient supplies of provisions for a three months’ absence.

On reaching the appointed place of rendezvous, the different companies,

each under the direction of a leader, fix upon their respective

quarters, erect huts of trees, and build up the snow around them. In

the neighbourhood of these they lay their snares; and then, advancing

another mile or so, they set a further quantity; and thus they proceed,

until they have covered a considerable area of ground; building huts

in each locality, and returning in due order to each set of snares to

collect their prey. These snares are of the simplest construction;

nothing more than small pits or cavities, loosely covered with rough

planks or branches of trees, and baited with fish or flesh. When the

game grows scarce, the trappers follow the sable to their retreats by

tracking their footprints over the fresh-fallen snow; place nets at

their entrances; and quietly wait, if it be for two or three days,

until the animals make their appearance.

[Illustration: THE ERMINE AND SABLE MARTEN.]

The fur of the sable is distinguished from all other furs by this

singular property: the hair has no particular inclination, but may be

laid down indifferently in any direction whatever.

* * * * *

The genus Polecat (_Mustela putarius_) comprehends the smallest

of all known carnivores,--namely, the weasel, the ferret, and the

ermine. The temperate countries of Europe possess a variety of the

latter species; but the ermines of the remote North yield the fullest

and softest fur. These animals, like many others in high latitudes,

change the colour of their coat according to the season. They have been

adopted by poets, on account of the spotless whiteness of their fur, as

emblematic of purity; but, in truth, they merit that honour only in the

winter: in the summer their colour is a clear maroon. The tail, at all

times, is of a beautiful brilliant black.

* * * * *

[Illustration: THE GLUTTON, OR WOLVERINE.]

Another carnivorous quadruped which haunts the northern forests is

the Glutton (_Gulo Arcticus_), or Wolverine; it owes its former

and more popular name to its extreme voracity. But it is at least as

remarkable for its strength and fierceness, inasmuch as it does not

fear to dispute their prey with the wolf and bear; and for its cunning,

since it baffles again and again the most carefully devised stratagems

of the hunter. It is a slow and somewhat unwieldy animal; but it is

determined and persevering, and will proceed at a steady pace for miles

in search of prey, stealing unawares upon hares, marmots, and birds;

and surprising even the larger quadrupeds, such as the elk and the

reindeer, when asleep.

The stories told of this remarkable animal’s shrewdness, which far

exceeds that commonly attributed to the fox, would seem incredible,

were they not confirmed by good authority. It is in allusion to its

extraordinary cunning that the Indians call it _Kekwaharkess_, or

the “Evil One.” With an energy that never flags it hunts day and night

for the trail of men, which, when found, it follows up unerringly.

On coming to a lake, where the track is generally drifted over, it

continues its steady gallop round the shores, to discover the point at

which the track re-enters the woods, when it again pursues it until it

arrives at one of the wooden traps set for the marten or the mink,

the ermine or the musk-rat. Cautiously avoiding the door, it effects

violent entrance at the back, and seizes the bait with impunity;

or, if the trap contains an animal, drags it out, and, with wanton

malevolence, mauls it, and hides it at some distance in the underwood

or at the top of some lofty pine. If hard pressed by hunger, it

devours the victim. And in this manner it demolishes the whole series

of traps; so that when once a wolverine has established itself on a

trapping-walk, the hunter’s only chance of success is to change his

ground, and build a fresh lot of traps, in the hope of securing a few

furs before the new path is discovered by his industrious enemy.

Some interesting particulars of the habits and ways of the glutton are

recorded by Lord Milton and Dr. Cheadle in their lively narrative of an

expedition from the Atlantic to the Pacific (“The North-West Passage by

Land”). They tell us that it is never caught in the ordinary pit-fall.

Occasionally one is poisoned, or caught in a steel trap; but so great

is the creature’s strength, that many traps strong enough to hold

securely a large wolf will not retain the wolverine. When caught in

this way, it does not, like the fox and the mink, proceed to amputate

the limb, but, assisting to carry the trap with its mouth, hastens to

reach a lake or river, where its progress will be unimpeded by trees or

fallen wood. After travelling to a sufficient distance to be safe from

pursuit for a time, it sets to work to extricate its imprisoned limb,

and very frequently succeeds in the attempt.

Occasionally the glutton is killed by a gun placed so as to bear on a

bait, to which is attached a string communicating with the trigger.

But a trapper assured Lord Milton and his companion, that very often

the animal had proved too cunning for him, first approaching the gun

and gnawing in two the cord communicating with the trigger, and then

securely devouring the bait.

In one instance, when all the trapper’s devices to beguile his enemy

had been seen through, and clearly foiled, he adopted the plan of

placing the gun in a tree, with the muzzle pointing vertically

downwards upon the bait. This was suspended from a branch, at such

a height that the animal could not secure it without jumping;

and, moreover, it was completely screened by the boughs. Now,

the wolverine’s curiosity almost equals its voracity. It shows a

disposition to investigate everything; an old moccasin flung aside

in the bushes, or a knife lost in the snow, must be ferreted out and

examined, and any object suspended almost out of reach generally proves

irresistible as a temptation. In this instance, however, the caution

of the glutton exceeded its curiosity and restrained its hunger; it

climbed the tree, cut the fastenings of the gun, which then tumbled to

the ground, and, descending, it secured the bait with impunity.

Lord Milton’s party were personal sufferers by, and witnesses to, the

animal’s cunning. One day, when setting out to visit their traps, they

observed the footprints of a very large wolverine which had followed

their trail, and La Ronde, their trapper, at once exclaimed, “C’est

fini, monsieur; il a cassé toutes nôtres étrappes, vous allez voir;”

and so it proved. As they came to each in succession, they found it

broken open at the back, and the bait taken; and, where an animal had

been caught, it was carried off. Throughout the whole line every one

had been demolished; and the tails were discovered of no fewer than ten

martens, the bodies of which had apparently been devoured by the hungry

and astute wolverine.

With one more illustration we must be content, and turn to another

branch of our subject, though we do not suppose that our readers

will weary of the relation of facts which throw so vivid a light on

the intelligence, as distinct from, and superior to, the instinct of

animals. And, certainly, the manner in which the glutton foils the

ingenious stratagems of the trappers must be ascribed to intelligence

rather than to instinct. In the following anecdote we think it is

plainly shown that the latter could not have sufficed to guard the

animal against the machinations of its persevering foes.

Dr. Cheadle, accompanied by an Indian boy, named Misquapasnayoo,

started off for the woods, bent upon proving his superior acuteness

to the wolverine. They found that the latter had renewed his visits

along the line of traps, and broken all which had been reconstructed,

devouring the animals found in them. Dr. Cheadle thereupon adopted a

device which could not fail, he thought, to catch his enemy in his own

toils. All the broken traps were repaired and set again, and poisoned

baits substituted for the ordinary ones in the traps; not in every

instance, but here and there along the line.

The forest was here of great extent, and seemed to stretch away to the

frozen North without let or hindrance, the mass of timber being broken

only by numerous lakes and swamps, or clearances which had been caused

by conflagrations. The traveller always seeks the lakes; not only

because they enable him to travel more rapidly, and penetrate further

into the less hunted regions, but also because the edges of the lakes,

and the portages between them, are favourite haunts of the fox, the

fisher, and the mink. On one of these lakes a curious circumstance was

noted. The lake was about half a mile in length, and of nearly equal

breadth, but of no great depth. The water had seemingly frozen to the

bottom, except at one end, where a spring bubbled up, and a hole of

about a yard in diameter existed in the ice-crust, which was there only

a few inches thick. In this hole the water was crowded with myriads

of small fish, most of them not much larger than a man’s finger, and

so closely packed that they could not move freely. On thrusting in an

arm, it seemed like plunging it into “a mass of thick stir-about.” All

around the snow had been trodden down hard and level by the feet of the

numerous animals attracted to this Lenten banquet; and tracks converged

to it from every side. The footprints could be recognized of the cross

or silver fox, delicately impressed in the snow as he trotted daintily

along with light and airy tread; the rough marks of the clumsier

fisher; the clear and sharply-defined track of the nimble mink; and the

great cross trail of the ubiquitous glutton. On the trees around scores

of crows were sleepily digesting their abundant meals.

When Dr. Cheadle and his companion turned homewards, they found that

their enemy had been in active pursuit. Along the ground they had

traversed on the previous day, every trap was already demolished, and

all the baits were abstracted. Dr. Cheadle at first imagined that he

had at last outwitted and destroyed his enemy; but the Indian’s keener

eyes discovered each of the baits which had been poisoned, lying

close at hand, bitten in two and rejected, while all the others had

disappeared. The baits, nevertheless, had been very carefully prepared;

the strychnine being inserted into the centre of the meat by a small

hole, and when frozen it was impossible to distinguish them from the

harmless ones by any peculiarity of appearance. It seemed as if the

animal suspected poison, and bit in two and tasted every morsel before

swallowing it. The baits had purposely been made very small, so that

in the ordinary course they would have been swallowed whole. That the

same wolverine had followed up their path from the first, they knew

perfectly well, because it was one of unusually large size, as shown

by its tracks, which were readily distinguished from those of smaller

animals.

The distribution of Birds in the Polar Regions, is a subject on which

it seems desirable to offer a few remarks, so that our readers may be

able to form an accurate conception of the character and variety of the

animal life peculiar to them.

Of the birds of Greenland and Iceland, it may be affirmed that fully

three-fourths of the species, and a still larger proportion of

individuals, are more or less aquatic, and many of the remainder are

only summer visitors. The largest bird that ventures far north is the

_Aquila albicilla_, or fishing-eagle, which builds its eyrie on

the loftiest crags of the ocean-cliffs, and feeds on salmon and trout.

The _Falco Islandicus_, or gyrfalcon, though a native of Iceland,

is now very rarely met with. The snowy owl inhabits the glaciers which

fill the deep inland valleys of Greenland, and its range extends as

far southwards as the Orkneys. Particular kinds of grouse are confined

to the high latitudes; and more particularly the ptarmigan, or white

grouse, which supplies a welcome addition to the scanty bill of fare

of the Arctic navigators. It is found, even in the depths of winter,

on Melville Island; burrowing under the snow, perhaps, for warmth,

protection, and food. But it appears to be most numerous in April, when

it is found in pairs; in September it collects in coveys, sometimes

of as many as fifteen or twenty birds, preparatory to their southern

migration.

[Illustration: PTARMIGAN.]

Of the _Corvidæ_, the only species which ventures beyond the

Arctic Circle is the Royston crow, and that only in summer.

The raven, however, is found in all the wide Polar realm, and is

larger, stronger, and more voracious in the Arctic Islands than

elsewhere. It drives the eider-ducks from their nests in order to prey

on their young or feast on their eggs, and it unites in flocks to expel

intruding birds from their abode.

The _Grallatores_ are more numerous than land-birds in the Arctic

World. The snipe and the golden plover are only visitors; but the

oyster-catcher is a denizen of Iceland, where, building its nest on

the reedy banks of the streams, it wages war with the crow tribe.

The heron, curlew, plover, and most of the other waders, emigrate;

sand-pipers and the water-ousel remain “all the year round.”

The _Cygnus musicus_, or whistling swan, is specially famous for

its migrations. It measures five feet from the tip of the bill to the

end of the tail, and eight feet across its noble extended wings; its

plumage is white as snow, with a slight tinge of orange or yellow on

the head. Some of these swans winter in Iceland; and in the long Arctic

night their song, as they pass in flocks, falls on the ear of the

listener like the notes of a violin.

* * * * *

The distribution of animals is, of course, regulated by laws analogous

to those which regulate the distribution of plants, insects, birds,

and fishes. Each continent, and even different portions of the same

continent, are the centres of zoological families, which have always

existed there, and nowhere else; each group being almost always

specifically different from all others. As the Arctic World includes

a district common to Europe, Asia, and America, with uniform climatic

conditions, the animals inhabiting the high latitudes of these

continents are frequently very similar and sometimes identical; and,

in fact, no genus of quadrupeds exists in the Arctic regions that is

not found in all three continents, though there are only twenty-seven

species common to all, and these mostly fur-bearing animals. The

carnivores, as we have seen, are very few in number, and of these the

most important is the Polar bear. Of the herbivores the reindeer is

the most valuable; its southern limit in Europe is the Baltic Sea, in

America the latitude of Quebec.

There are fully eight varieties of American dogs, several of which

are natives of the far North. The _lagopus_, or isatis, a native

of Spitzbergen and Greenland, extends over all the Arctic regions of

America and Asia, and is found in some of the Kurile Islands. Dogs are

employed to draw sledges in Newfoundland and Canada; and the Eskimo

dogs, used for this purpose by the Arctic explorers, are famous for

their strength, their docility, and power of endurance. They were mute,

until they learned to bark from European dogs on board the discovery

ships.