but sometimes it is a buck, or even a fawn. There is virtually no way of
telling whether the same doe habitually leads a band. In the big migrant
herds, bucks bring up the rear. Once in September, in a herd of about
100 animals, the front half was composed of does and fawns, the rear
half of bucks. In the rutting season the does are naturally in the lead,
the bucks following them.
_References._--Hearne, 1795: 198; Richardson, "1825": 329;
Simpson, 1843: 277, 281, 381; J. Anderson, 1856: 24, and 1857:
324; Schwatka, 1885: 83; Pike, 1917 (1892): 49, 174, 204, 209;
Dowling, 1893: 107; Stone and Cram, 1904: 52; Blanchet, 1925:
32-33, and 1926b: 48; Critchell-Bullock, 1930: 192-196; Hoare,
1930: 13, 33, 37; Kitto, 1930: 88; Mallet, 1930: 20-23; Jacobi,
1931: 190, 203-204; Hornby, 1934: 106; Birket-Smith, 1936: 112;
Hamilton, 1939: 247; Clarke, 1940: 95; Downes, 1943: 256;
Manning, 1943a: 52; Harper, 1949: 228, 229; Banfield, 1951a:
23-26.
_Disposition_
The Barren Ground Caribou comes close to holding the palm for unwariness
among the larger land mammals of North America. It is fortunate that its
range lies so far from the centers of civilization. It is scarcely
conceivable that it could survive, as the White-tailed Deer does, in
some of our most thickly settled areas. At the river crossings, where I
watched the pageant of migration for day after day, some of the animals
would come up to within a rod while I handled my cameras in the open,
with no more cover than knee-high bushes and rocks (figs. 11, 14). Where
else, among the larger creatures of the wilderness, could one find such
a close approximation to a Garden-of-Eden existence? Until they detected
the human scent, they would stare at me at such close quarters with
little more concern than so many barnyard cattle. (For examples, see the
section on _Fall migration_.) Moreover, there were occasions when they
must have gotten my wind and still did not show panic. There is an
obvious deficiency of eyesight or judgment, or both.
To account for their behavior on such occasions, I speculated as
follows. The species has scarcely any predatory enemies save man, the
Wolf, and (perhaps to some extent) the Wolverine. In their normal
experience, any such enemy, if within close range, would be making an
attack. Thus a questionable figure, not becoming evident to them until
they are within close range, and then making no motion to attack, may be
dismissed by them as something different and therefore harmless.
The attitude of unconcern has probably been developed in past
generations through the habit of the Caribou of traveling in vast
throngs. The threat of danger to a given individual in a herd of, say,
100,000 is practically negligible. From time immemorial the river
crossings have represented a particular point of attack on the part of
the natives. Yet when a large band of Caribou come to such a crossing,
they may plunge in with little pause or hesitation. On the other hand,
when a lone doe with her fawn approaches the river bank, she may be very
circumspect, taking time to look carefully upstream and down, and
across, before venturing into the water. I also saw another doe with a
fawn exercise similar precaution, when she was merely the first of a
band of 40 to reach the river's edge. It is probably concern for her
fawn that renders a doe more circumspect than a buck.
When Fred Schweder, Jr., was endeavoring to intercept a Wolf on
September 6, a fullgrown buck came feeding around a tree within 10 feet
of him. The animal winded Fred without apparently seeing him, and went
back and forth uncertainly for about a minute; finally it moved off very
slowly.
Stefánsson's account (1913b) of his various adventures with Caribou
near the Arctic coast of Mackenzie indicates a far wilder animal in that
region than the one in Keewatin. It appeared a great deal easier for me,
with no particular effort at caution, to get within photographic range
(say a dozen feet to 50 yards) than for him to approach within rifle
range (several hundred yards).
Even after being fired upon, a single animal or a band in the Nueltin
Lake region will rarely put distance between themselves and a hunter
with all possible dispatch, as an alert White-tailed Deer would, but
will run hither and thither in confusion, with frequent pauses to
display their befuddlement. On October 8 I was a distant and saddened
spectator of a scene of slaughter. A hundred or more Caribou were
resting or feeding quietly on a bare ridge south of Lake Charles. They
were distributed in a narrow formation, 75-100 yards long and from one
to several animals deep. A hunter, approaching close to the south end of
the herd, began firing. With one accord they made toward the north, but
very shortly executed a sharp turn and came back rapidly in the opposite
direction, passing in a narrow, compact column within 30 feet of the
hunter, who continued shooting. In 200 or 300 yards they paused and
allowed the hunter to come up with them and resume shooting. The process
was repeated over a distance of three miles; but the pursuer now and
then circled ahead of the herd instead of following in its tracks. The
final toll: 29 Caribou hit and 22 or 23 secured--virtually a quarter of
the herd destroyed and most of it to be used for dog feed.
It is said that the attachment between a doe and its fawn is such that
when one of them is killed, the hunter can approach within 50 feet of
the surviving doe or within 20 feet of the surviving fawn. A fawn is apt
to linger for days in the vicinity where its dam has been killed.
Charles Schweder has never seen fawns playing with each other or with
their mothers; two or three times he has seen one frisking by
itself--such as jumping about or running in a circle--but never for more
than half a minute at a time. Seriousness of life for a Caribou seems
confirmed from its infancy.
In the hard winter of 1944-45, when the Caribou were tired and hungry,
Charles had the rare experience of driving his dogteam right through
herds on Nueltin Lake; the animals merely moved aside enough to let him
pass. In like vein Joe Chambers spoke of encountering such numbers of
migrating Caribou on or near the "Little Barrens" south of Churchill in
the spring of 1947 that his dogs "went wild" and he had to halt for a
time; the animals came within about 100 yards of his team.
A Caribou bold enough to attack a man is very rarely heard of. Yet that
was the experience of 15-year-old Anoteelik on September 8. Having run
out of ammunition, he undertook to kill a 2-year-old buck with a rock in
a patch of timber. (Possibly the animal had already been wounded with
Anoteelik's .22 rifle.) When the missile failed of its mark, the buck
made for the boy, who escaped by climbing a tree. Perhaps this is the
first case on record of a man or a boy (especially an Eskimo!) being
treed by a Barren Ground Caribou. Jenness mentions (1922: 150) a case of
an Eskimo being fatally gored by a Caribou on Victoria Island.
Otherwise, under all general circumstances, and in contradistinction to
the Bison, the Muskox, the Moose, and even the White-tailed Deer, the
Caribou may be regarded as quite innocuous to man.
The restlessness so frequently exhibited by Caribou during the summer,
in trotting rapidly over the Barrens or in feeding hurriedly here and
there while constantly forging ahead (in contrast to the placidity of
grazing sheep and cattle), may be attributed in large part to the
relentless scourge of fly pests.
(See also _Relations to man_.)
_References._--Lyon, 1824: 336-337; J. McLean, 1932 (1849): 359;
Simpson, 1843: 207; Armstrong, 1857: 478-479, 481-482; Gilder,
1881: 78; Schwatka, 1885: 85; Pike, 1917 (1892): 51-52, 90;
Whitney, 1896: 242; Hanbury, 1904: 85; Amundsen, 1908, +1+: 103;
Stefánsson, 1913b: 278, and 1921: 251; Hornaday, 1914, +2+:
104; Jenness, 1922: 150; Blanchet, 1925: 34; Birket-Smith, 1929
(1): 106; Seton, 1929, +3+: 105-107; Jacobi, 1931: 219, 220;
Ingstad, 1933: 88, 293, 297; Downes, 1943: 236-237; Porsild,
1943: 389; Harper, 1949: 229-230; Banfield, 1951a: 22.
_Senses_
There is fairly general agreement on the Caribou's keen sense of smell,
good hearing, and less well-developed vision. But perhaps the
last-mentioned attribute does not so much constitute poor eyesight as
lack of _perception_ or _recognition_. In other words, is it not
possible that the animal is merely deficient in interpreting what it may
see clearly enough?
_References._--R. M. Anderson, 1913a: 8, and 1913b: 504;
Stefánsson, 1913b: 164, 1914: 58, and 1921: 307; Blanchet,
1925: 34, and 1926b: 48; Birket-Smith, 1929 (1): 106; Seton,
1929, +3+: 104; Murie, 1939: 245; Banfield, 1951a: 22.
_Gaits_
The three principal gaits of the Caribou are walking, trotting, and
loping. The animal seems to be in such a constant hurry that trotting is
fairly habitual. The speed of this gait varies with the urgency of the
occasion; also, according to Stefánsson (1921: 248), with sex and age.
When frightened by an enemy, a Caribou may start off with a loping gait,
but it soon settles down to its space-consuming trot, which keeps it
safely ahead of a Wolf in any brief chase. The initial leap takes all
four feet off the ground at once (_cf._ Buchanan, 1920: 126). According
to Charles Schweder, it is usually a single animal that reacts in this
way; but he has seen as many as six together leaping into the air. Fred
Schweder, Jr., has seen both bucks and does in this performance. My own
observations covered two lone adults (at least one a buck) and a lone
fawn. One of the former turned and took a step or so before making the
leap. The fawn (at Simons' Lake in October), after allowing a canoe to
approach within 100 feet, started off twice in succession, and each time
with an initial leap into the air before settling down to a trot.
Even a summer fawn is reputed to be able to outdistance a Wolf. Lyon
(1824: 67) found a Caribou too fleet for a greyhound.
In trotting rapidly, a Caribou points its snout pretty straight to the
front, thus tilting the antlers backward a little. This gait, with front
legs stretching well out in front and hind legs thrust backward
correspondingly, gives a very characteristic and distinctive stamp to
the appearance of a fast-trotting Caribou. (Compare the sketches of
trotting Norway Reindeer by Seton, 1929, +3+: pls. 15, 18.) It is
apparently quite different from any normal gait of the White-tailed
Deer. A buck's well-grown antlers are of such weight as apparently to
force it to hold its head rather rigidly while going at speed. If its
head swayed appreciably, the top-heavy antlers might tend to throw the
animal off balance. In a trotting gait, the hind foot may be planted
just beyond the spot where the front foot had rested. In walking, the
print of the hind foot may be superimposed on that of the other (fig.
20). The white "spats" just above the hoofs show to fine advantage when
the Caribou trots; they fairly twinkle. In a retreating animal the white
rump-patch appears in marked contrast to the dark brown adjacent fur.
In stepping across a shallow rapid in peaceful surroundings, the
rhythmic splashings of the water to the front and the sides of the
alternately descending hoofs make a scene of rare charm. In moving
through deeper water, where the bottom is rough, rocky, and slippery,
the animals may pick their way quite slowly. When alarmed near the
water's edge from some such cause as detecting a human scent, they may
make great splashing leaps into a river or bay, fairly enveloping
themselves in huge clouds of spray. There can be few more spirited
scenes of animal life in the North.
I have seen several of the animals running with open mouths, even when
they had gone no more than a quarter of a mile from a point of alarm.
Every now and then a Caribou will be seen limping--perhaps from wounds,
perhaps because of a leg sprained in rough terrain.
_References._--Lyon, 1824: 67; Osborn, 1865: 227; Russell, 1895:
50, and 1898: 90; Hanbury, 1904: 131; Nelson, 1916: 460;
Buchanan, 1920: 126; Stefánsson, 1921: 248; Blanchet, 1925: 33,
and 1926b: 47; Critchell-Bullock, 1930: 193; Sutton and
Hamilton, 1932: 83; Ingstad, 1933: 87; Murie, 1939: 245; Downes,
1943: 236-237; Harper, 1949: 226, 229; Banfield, 1951a: 21.
_Tracks_
Caribou trails, resulting from the impact of countless hoofs on the same
restricted courses for unnumbered years, have been discussed in the
section on _Ecology_. The placing of the feet has been touched upon in
the section on _Gaits_. The individual tracks remain to be considered.
Each of two foot-prints photographed in mud was approximately 4 inches
(102 mm.) long and 4½ inches (114 mm.) wide. Another such photograph
(fig. 19) shows tracks about 114 by 95 and 102 by 102 mm. The foot
sketched by Seton (1929, +3+: 129) is obviously a front foot, though not
so labeled; the hoofs as drawn are approximately 89 and 93 mm. in
length; the width of the foot is approximately 100 mm.
A track (fig. 20) photographed in 2-inch snow represents a hind
foot-print superimposed upon a front foot-print in a walking gait;
including the marks of the dew claws, it was approximately 6 inches (153
mm.) long and 5 inches (127 mm.) wide. The "square-toed" appearance is
very characteristic.
A front hoof is a little broader as well as longer than a hind hoof
(fig. 24). The extreme and average lengths of the front hoofs in five of
my adult male specimens are 80-92 (85.2); of the hind hoofs, 74-84.5
(79.8). In an adult doe a front hoof measures 77; a hind hoof, 72.
_Reference._--Banfield, 1951a: 19.
_Swimming_
In their extensive and long-continued migrations over a territory
composed in large part of lakes, ponds, and rivers, the Caribou have
almost daily need, from June to October, of surmounting these barriers
by swimming. The low temperature of the water seems to have no deterring
effect on them. Yet it appears that some of the animals may fail in
attempting the passages of wide waters. Charles Schweder spoke of
finding a number of dead Caribou, including bucks as well as fawns, that
had apparently succumbed in crossing a 4-mile-wide lake on the Thlewiaza
River. (Or had they perhaps come to grief in some upstream rapid and
finally been washed ashore on the lake?) Bones on the shore indicated
that this sort of tragedy might be more or less of an annual occurrence.
Perhaps some of the victims had been wounded or were otherwise in poor
condition.
The buoyant, hollow hairs of a Caribou's coat enable the swimming animal
to keep almost the whole median dorsal line of its body perhaps 2 or 3
inches above the surface (figs. 9, 12). In a doe noticed on August 28
the lowest point on the top of the neck, just in front of the shoulders,
was practically level with the surface, but elsewhere the dorsal line,
from snout to tail, was out of the water. In both doe and fawn the head
is held so high that the lower side of the snout at the tip does not
touch the water; in the older bucks of the autumn, however, the weight
of their antlers presses the head down until the lower side of the snout
is frequently in contact with the water. The swimming position tilts the
antlers backward until the basal portion is practically horizontal
(figs. 9, 12). All ages and sexes, while swimming, hold the tail nearly
erect; but the very tip (perhaps only the tuft of hairs) inclines toward
the rear.
[Illustration: FIG. 19. Caribou tracks in mud; one about 114 by 95
mm.; another, 102 by 102 mm. Between Bear Slough and Eider Pond,
September 3, 1947.]
[Illustration: FIG. 20. Caribou track in 2-inch snow; hind foot
superimposed on track of front foot. Combined track about 153 by
127 mm. Camp Ridge, October 29, 1947.]
[Illustration: FIG. 21. A Caribou doe (specimen No. 1101). Mouth
of Windy River, September 21, 1947.]
[Illustration: FIG. 22. A Caribou buck (specimen No. 1111). Mouth
of Windy River, September 29, 1947.]
[Illustration: FIG. 23. A male Caribou fawn (specimen No. 1095),
in its first, woolly pelage. Mouth of Windy River, September 7,
1947.]
[Illustration: FIG. 24. Hoofs of a male Caribou fawn (specimen No.
1072); hind hoofs in the middle. Mouth of Windy River, August 21,
1947.]
[Illustration: FIG. 25. Enormous set of old antlers of a Barren
Ground Caribou, with exceptional palmation. (A 10.5-inch length of
a steel rule visible.) Simons' Lake, October 15, 1947.]
[Illustration: FIG. 26. Rubbing trees: two small black spruces
(_Picea mariana_)--the larger 4 feet high--broken and barked by
Caribou in rubbing velvet off the antlers. Simons' Lake, October
18, 1947.]
[Illustration: FIG. 27. Pile o' Rocks, an ancient enclosure
erected as a game lookout on the summit of a hill 1.5 miles NW. of
the mouth of Windy River. June 30, 1947.]
[Illustration: FIG. 28. Adult male Western Woodland Caribou
(_Rangifer caribou sylvestris_) (No. 235361, U.S. Biol. Surveys
Coll.). Stony Mountain, about 27 miles S. of Fort McMurray,
Alberta, October 22, 1920. (U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service.)]
On October 30 tracks indicated that half a dozen Caribou had swum across
Little River near its mouth, breaking through a 10-foot rim of ice on
the near side. When a herd of 2,000 or 3,000 crossed Windy River during
an October night about 1944, as reported by Charles Schweder, they broke
three channels through the thin ice that covered the river.
Once Charles saw a buck cross the 100-yard-wide Nahiline Rapids on
Kasmere River, where it drops about 40 feet in a quarter of a mile; yet
the animal did not seem to be carried far downstream. When about 10
Caribou (mostly big bucks) crossed the Windy River at our camp on June
24, the last two, I noted, were pointing almost upstream in the 6- to
8-mile-per-hour current.
The usual formation in which a small number of Caribou cross a bay or a
quiet stretch of river is a single file, but a larger band is likely
to make the passage in several simultaneous files. The fawns, in
particular, follow as closely as possible behind their mothers.
Although the Caribou are strong and speedy swimmers, the natives are
able, in canoe or kayak, to overtake and spear them. In 1947 several
fawns were speared in Windy Bay by Anoteelik.
Other notes on swimming may be found in the sections dealing with
_Migrations_.
_References._--Back, 1836: 367; Simpson, 1843: 76, 310; Rae,
1850: 27; Richardson, 1852: 290; Schwatka, 1885: 68, 71-72;
W. J. McLean, 1901: 6; R. M. Anderson, 1913b: 503; Blanchet,
1925: 34; Birket-Smith, 1929 (1): 109-110; Seton, 1929, +3+:
107; Hoare, 1930: 27, 31; Jacobi, 1931: 216; Clarke, 1940:
88-90; Downes, 1943: 256; Harper, 1949: 227, 229, 230; Banfield,
1951a: 21.
_Shaking off moisture and insects_
The long, dense fur of the Caribou holds so much moisture that when the
animal emerges from swimming it endeavors to rid itself of the extra
burden and cooling agency. This is effected to a large extent by a
vigorous shaking of the body, head, and ears and a switching of the
tail. The initial performance, lasting for perhaps a second or two, may
be undertaken while the animal's lower extremities are still in the
water; and it is likely to be repeated from one to several times as it
moves over the shore and ascends the adjacent ridge. The cloud of spray
flying off is a sight to behold (fig. 9). The action is very much like
that of a dog under similar circumstances. The fur may remain wet for a
least 10 or 15 minutes after emergence from the water. In driving rain
on September 5, I noticed an individual in a band of 20 Caribou shaking
itself and sending the rain drops flying off in spray, just as when one
emerges from the water.
The Caribou also go through a very similar but perhaps still more
strenuous performance for the obvious purpose of shaking off flies
(perhaps primarily the warble flies, _Oedemagena_). On August 20 a buck
passing along a ridge in the Barrens agitated the hide on its body
several times with considerable vigor. A young animal (fawn or yearling)
thus shook itself on August 28 as it approached the far side of Little
River. I got the distinct impression that the hide was shaken
horizontally in the case of moisture, but vertically in the case of
insects; for the present, however, this is best considered as just an
impression, and not a statement of fact. The muscles that agitate the
skin of the sides should be particularly well developed through frequent
practice with water and flies during the warmer part of the year.
At the mouth of Little River, on August 30, I heard one of the Caribou
in a large band "blow its nose," so to speak, with vigor. The sound
suggested that produced by a horse in vibrating its nostrils by
forcefully expelling air through them. I suspect that the Caribou uses
the same means, in an effort to fend off a nostril fly (_Cephenemyia_)
bent on depositing its larvae.
_Reference._--Harper, 1949: 230.
_Signaling_
Apparently the commonest method employed by the Caribou for indicating
or communicating suspicion or alarm is erecting the stub of a tail to a
vertical position. This brings its white under side into full view, as
the silent flashing of a danger signal to other Caribou. However,
a solitary animal will exhibit signaling behavior as well as one in a
band. The tail remains erect, whether the animal stands to stare
uneasily at a suspicious object or flees from it in alarm. The action is
common to old and young of both sexes. It is so characteristic of a
fleeing animal as to give significance to the expression, "high-tailing
it." In normal, unalarmed progress the tail extends backward in a
drooping curve (figs. 11, 12).
I was not fortunate enough to detect any flashing of the white throat,
as described by Preble (1902: 42).
Another silent signal is a most peculiar sprawling posture of the hind
legs, attained by thrusting one of them well out to one side and setting
the foot down. The legs are not then symmetrically placed; the one not
moved obviously bears most of the weight of the hind quarters. I managed
to film this stance in a buck standing on a sky-line on August 24
(cover). On September 9 another buck assumed the posture while looking
over our camp from a ridge on the opposite side of Windy River.
According to Charles Schweder, this is an expression of suspicion or
alarm, designed to communicate the same feeling to other Caribou. When
the others notice it, they stop and assume the same pose; it may be
observed in does and even fawns. Charles added that the tail is erected
at the same time--a very natural accompaniment, though I failed to
notice it.
In all the literature on the Barren Ground Caribou, I have found just
one reference to this posture, and that a distinctly fragmentary one:
"While [the Caribou are] thus circling around I have often been amused
at the manner in which they carry one hind leg. A novice in the hunting
field, after having fired a shot in their direction, would think that he
had broken one hind leg of each member of the herd." (A. J. Stone, 1900:
53.)
The author makes this observation just after mentioning a herd sighted
near the shore of Franklin Bay. A virtually identical posture in the
Norway Reindeer has been sketched by Seton (1929, +3+: 112, pl. 18), who
labels it "surprize." An analogy to the posture of the Caribou might be
found in a hand thrust out, with fingers spread, by a military scout as
a signal of warning or caution to his fellow scouts. A sprawling leg is
perhaps the nearest approximation to the human signal that a Caribou can
attain.
As noted in the section on _Gaits_, an alarmed Caribou may set off by
taking an initial leap into the air. According to Dugmore, such an act
on the part of the Newfoundland Caribou plays an important role in its
system of communications, not by means of sight or sound, but through
the olfactory sense. He observes (1913: 89-90):
"For hours afterwards _every_ Caribou, on arriving at the place where
the frightened ones had jumped, has started violently, and has on nearly
every occasion turned and run in a manner that showed every indication
of fear, even though my presence was entirely unknown to them. My idea
is that when the animal is suddenly frightened it expels a certain fluid
from the glands in the foot, and that this fluid is a signal of alarm,
a silent and invisible warning, but none the less so positive that none
dare ignore it."