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THE YOUNG VOYAGEURS.

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By the mme Author^

THE BOY HUNTERS;

OB,

ADVENTUKES IN SEARCH OF A WHITE BUFFALO.

THIRD EDITION.

" The Book is just such a one as we would make a Christmas present
of to a &vourite youthful Mend." — Obterver.

" Such as deeply to interest boys." — Eliza CooV» Jonmal.

" Beveals, on the part of its author, the keenest observation of
nature, and a really ddightM vivacity of imagination."— ^m.

THE DESERT HOME;

oa,

ENGLISH FAMILY ROBINSON.
THIRD EDITION.

" Cannot &il to be the most popular book with boys after ' Robinson
Crusoe.' " — Britannia.

" The author is personally fioniliar with the scenes he describes, and
is thus able to give them an air of truthfldness which in other circimi-
stanoes can only be attained by the rarest genius." — Chambers' Journal.

" It is not easy to lay the book down after beginning it ; and the
knowledge the author possesses of the habits of the animals, msikes it
well worth reading." — Guardian.

" This is a volume in which young gentlemen between the ages of
twelve and twenty yriJ} greatly r^oice. An interesting story, expressly
framed to introduce the youthful reader to an extensive acquaintance
with natural history."— CWtic.

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TlIK CARIBOU AND THE WOLVES. — PoffC 4C0.

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THE YOUNG VOYAGEURS,

OB THE

BOY HUNTERS IN THE NOETH.

CAPTAIN MAYNE REID,

Author or "The Boy Hunters," "The Desert Home," etc.

WITH TWELVE ILLUSTRATIONS BY W. HARVEY.

LONDON :
DAVID BOGUE, FLEET STREET.

M.DOOO.LrV.

[TranBlation reserved.}

SZl^- 1^7(f /^?

LONDON:

Printed by G. Barclay, Castle St. Leicester Sq.

KIND FATHEB,
GENTLE AND AFFECTIONATE MOTHEK,

ACCEPT THIS TRIBUTE OP

A SON 8 GRATITUDE.

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MAYNE EEID.

I0lll071_

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PREFACE.

In the " Boy Hunters " the Author endeavoured to illustrate
ihe fauna of the temperate zone of the American Continent.
In doing this, however, many animals, and particularly that
interesting class known as the " fur-bearing animals," could
not be introduced withoai " bringing the mountain to
Mahomet." To avoid this, the " Boy Hunters " — under the
name of the " Young Voyagems " — have made a grand
journey through the " fur countries," where, as will be seen,
they have met with nearly all the wild creatures that inhabit
that cold and desolate region. The Author begs leave here
to repeat that he is " not conscious of having taken any
liberty, for the sake of effect, with the laws of Nature — ^with
its fauna or its flora. Neither plant nor tree, bird nor
mammal, has been pressed into service beyond tlie limits of
its geographical range; although, in illustrating the habits
or history of God's wild creatures, he has often selected only
their more peculiar characteristics."

If the " Young Voyageurs " receive only as much applause
in their new character, as they did in that of the " Boy
Hunters," the Author will have no reason to complain of his
" boy pubUc."

LoNDOX, November 1853.

sisa

CONTENTS.

CHAP.
I. THE FUR COUNTRIES
II. THE YOUNG VOYAGEURS

III. THE TRUMPETER SWAN AND BALD EAGLE 29

IV. THE SWANS OF AMERICA
V. A SWAN-HUNT BY TORCHLIGHT

VI. " CAST away" .
VII. A BRIDGE OF BUCKSKIN
VIII. DECOYING THE " GOATS "

IX. A •' PARTRIDGE DANCE "

X. BASIL AND THE BISON-BULL .

XI. THREE CURIOUS TREES
XII. HOW TO BUILD A BARK CANOE

XIII. THE CHAIN OF LAKES .

XIV. WAPITI, WOLVES, A^D WOLVERENE
XV. A. PAIR OF DEEP DIVERS

XVI. A GRAND SUNDAY DINNER
XVII. THE MARMOTS OF AMEriCA .

PAGE

109

119

128

145

154

163

182

195

211

Vlll

CONTENTS.

CHAP. PAOK

XVIII. THE BIAIREAU, TA>VNIES, AND LEOPARDS 226 ^

XIX. AN ODD SORT OF DECOY-DUCK . . 237

XX. THE DUCKS OF AMERICA . . .254

XXI. THE SHRIKE AND THE HUMUIXG-BIRDS . 266

XXII. THE FISH-HAWK . . . .274

XXIII. THE OSPREY AND HIS TYRANT . . 284

XXIV. THE VOYAGE INTERRUPTED . .297
XXV. FISHING UNDER THE ICE . . . 306

XXVI. AN ODD ALARM 316

XXVII. ENCOUNTER WITH A MOOSE . . .331

XXVIII. LIFE IN A LOG-HUT . . . .342

XXIX. TRAVELLING ON SNOW-SHOES . . 364

XXX. THE BARREN GROUNDS . . .365

XXXI. THE ROCK-TRIPE , . . .378

XXXII. THE POLAR HARE AND GREAT SNOWY OWL 388

XXXIII. THE JUMPING MOUSE AND THE ERMINE . 403

XXXIV. THE ARCTIC FOX AND WHITE WOLF . 410
XXXV. THE JERFALCON AND THE WHITE GROUSE 423

XXXVI. THE HARE, LYNX, AND GOLDEN EAGLE . 431

XXXVII. THE "ALARM BIRD " AND THE CARIBOU . 440
XXXVIII. A BATTLE WITH WOLVES . . . 462

XXXIX. END OF THE " VOYAGE

. 466

h\2__

THE YOUNG VOYAGEURS.

CHAPTER I.

THE FUR COUNTRIES.

Boy reader, you have hoard of the Hudson's Bay

Company ? Ten to one, you have worn a piece

of fur, which it has provided for you ; if not,

your pretty little sister has — in her muff, or her

boa, or as a trimming for her winter dress. "Would

you like to know sometliing of the country whence

come these furs ? — of the animals whose backs

have been stripped to obtain them ? As I feel

certain that you and I are old friends, I make

bold to ansAver for you — yes. Come, then ! let us

journey together to the "Fur Countries;" let us

cross them from south to north.

A vast journey it will be. It will cost us many

thousand miles of travel. We shall find neither

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THE FUR COUNTRIES.

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railway-train, nor steamboat, nor stage-coach, to
carry us on our way. We shall not even have
the help of a horse. For us no hotel shall spread
its luxurious board ; no road-side inn shall hang
out its inviting sign and "clean beds;" no roof
of any kind shall offer us its hospitable shelter.
Our table shall be a rock, a log, or the earth
itself ; our lodging a tent ; and our bed the skin of
a wild beast. Such are the best accommodations we
can expect upon our journey. Are you still ready
to undertake it ? Does the prospect not deter you ?

No — I hear you exclaim. I shall be satisfied
with the table — what care I for mahogany ? With
the lodging — ^I can tent like an Arab. With the
bed — fling feathers to the wind !

Enough, brave boy ! you shall go with me to the
wild regions of the " North-west," to the far " fur
countries" of America. But, first — a word about
the land through which we are going to travel.

Take down your Atlas. Bend your eye upon
the map of North America. Note two large
islands — one upon the right side, Newfoundland ;
another upon the left, Vancouver. Draw a line
from one to the other ; it will nearly bisect the
continent. North of that line you behold a vast

♦ THE TUB COUNTRIES. 3

territory. How vast ? You may take your scissors,
and clip fifty Englands out of it ! There are
lakes there in which you might drown England,
or make an island of it! Now, you may form
some idea of the vastness of that region known
as the " fur countries."

Will you believe me, when I tell you that all
this immense tract is a wilderness — a howling
wilderness, if you like a poetical name? It is
even so. From north to south, from ocean to
ocean, — throughout all that vast domain, there is
neither town nor village — hardly anything that
can be dignified with +he name of "settlement."
The only signs of : 'ilisation to be seen are
the " forts," or trading posts, of the Hudson's Bay
Company; and these "signs" are few and far —
hundreds of miles — between. For inhabitantSy the
country has less than ten thousand white men, the
employes of the Company ; -^d its native people
are Indians of many tribes, living far apart, few
in numbers, subsisting by the chase, and half
starving for at least a third part of every year!
In truth, the territory can hardly be called " in-
habited." There is not a man to every ten miles ;
and in many parts of it you may travel hundreds

THE FUR COUNTRIES.

1 1

of miles without seeing a face, red, white, or
black !

The physical aspect is, therefore, entirely wild.
It is very different in different parts of the
territory. One tract is peculiar. It has been
long known as the " Barren Grounds." It is a
tract of vast extent. It lies north-west from the
shores of Hudson's Bay, extending nearly to the
Mackenzie River. Its rocks are primitive. It is
a land of hills and valleys, — of deep dark lakes and
sharp-runnyig streams. It is a woodless region.
No timber is found there that deserves the name.
No trees but glandular dwarf birches, willows,
and black spruce, small and stunted. Even these
only grow in isolated valleys. More generally the
surface is covered with coarse sand — the debris
of granite or quartz-rock — upon which no vege-
table, save the lichen or the moss, can find life
and nourishment. In one respect these "Barren
Grounds" are unlike the deserts of Africa : they
are well watered. In almost every valley there
is a lake ; and though many of these are land-
locked, yet do they contain fish of several species.
Sometimes these lakes communicate with each
other by means of rapid and turbulent Btreama

^-•-

1 ' I

1.1

THE FUR COtJNTraES. 9

passing through narrow gorges ; and lines of those
connected lakes form the great rivers of the district.

Such is a large portion of the Hudson's Bay
territory. Most of the extensive peninsula of La-
brador partakes of a similar character ; and there
are other like tracts west of the Rocky Mountain
range in the " Russian possessions."

Yet these " Barren Grounds" have their denizens.
Nature has formed animals that delight to dwell
there, and that are never found in more fertile
regions. Two rumi rating creatures find sustenance
upon the mosses and lichens that cover their cold
rocks : they are the caribou (reindeer) and the
musk-ox. These, in their turn, bocome the food
and subsistence of preying creatures. The wolf,
in all its varieties of grey, black, white, pied,
and dusky, follows upon their trail. The "brown
bear," — a large species, nearly resembling the
"grizzly," — is found only in the Barren Grounds;
and the great "Polar bear" comes within their
borders, but the latter is a dweller upon their
shores alone, and finds his food among the finny
tribes of the seas that surround them. In marshy
ponds, existing here and there, the musk-rat {Fiber
zibethicus) builds his house, like that c ^ his larger

iS^

THE PUR COUNTRIES.

cousin, the beaver. Upon the water sedge he finds
subsistence j but his natural enemy, the wolverene
{Gulo luscus\ skulks, in the same neighbourhood.
The "Polar hare" lives upon the leaves and twigs
. of the dwarf birch-tree ; and this, transformed into
its own white flesh, becomes the food of the Arctic
fox. The herbage, sparse though it be, does not
grow in vain. The seeds fall to the earth, but they
are not suffered to decay. They are gathered by
the little lemmings and meadow-mice {arvicolce\
who, in their turn, become the prey of two species
of mustelidcBf the ermine and vison weasels. Have
the fish of the lakes no enemy ? Yes — a terrible one
in the Canada otter. The mink-weasel, too, pursues
them; and in summer, the osprey, the great pelican,
the cormorant, and the white-headed eagle.

These are the fauna of the Barren Grounds.
Man rarely ventures within their boundaries. The
wretched creatures who find a living there are the
Esquimaux on their coasts, and a few Chippewa
Indians in the interior, who hunt the caribou, and
are known as "caribou -eaters." Other Indians
enter them only in summer, in search of game, or
journeying from point to point ; and so perilous are
these joumeyings, that numbers frequently perish

THE FUB COUNTRIES. 7

by the way. There are no white men in the
Barren Grounds. The "Company" has no com-
merce there. No fort is established in them : so
scarce are the fur-bearing animals of these parts,
their skins would not repay the expense of a
"trading podt."

Far different are the "wooded tracts" of the fur
countries. These lie mostly in the southern and
central regions of the Hudson's Bay territory.
There are found the valuable beaver, and the
wolverene that preys upon it. There dwells
the American hare, with its enemy the Canada
lynx. There are the squirrels, and the beautiful
martens (sables) that hunt them from tree to tree.
There are found the foxes of every variety, the red,
the cross, and the rare and highly-prized silver-fox
( Vulpes argentatus\ whose shining skin sells for its
weight in gold I There, too, the black bear ( Urstis
Americanus) yields its fine coat to adorn the winter
carriage, the holsters of the dragoon, and the shako
of the grenadier. There the fur-bearing animals
exist in greatest plenty, and many others whose
skins are valuable in commerce, as the moose, the
wapiti, and the wood-bison.

But there is also a "prairie" district in the

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THE PUR COUNTRIES.

fur countries. The great table prairies of North
Amenea, that slope eastward from the Rocky
Mountains, also extend northward into the Hud-
son's Bay territory. They gradually grow nar-
rower, however, as you proceed farther north,
until, on reaching the latitude of the Great Slave
Lake, they end altogether. This "prairie land"
has its peculiar animals. Upon it roams the buf-
falo, the prong-horned antelope, and the miJe-deer.
There, too, may be seen the " barking wolf" and
the "swift fox." It is the favourite home of the
marmots, and the gauffres or sand-rats ; and there,
too, the noblest of animals, the horse, runs wild.
West of this prairie tract is a region of far
different aspect, — the region of the Rocky Moun-
tains. This stupendous chain, sometimes called
the Andes of North America, continues throughout
the fur countries from their southern limits to the
shores of the Arctic Sea. Some of its peaks overlook
the waters of that sea itself, towering up near the
coast. Many of these, even in southern latitudes,
carry the "eternal snow." This "mountain-chain"
is, in places, of great breadth. Deep valleys lie in
its embrace, many of which have never been visited
by man. Some are desolate and dreary ; others

THE PUR COtNTRIES.

are oases of vegetation, which fascinate the traveller
whose fortune it has been, after toiling among naked
rocks, to gaze upon their smiling fertility. These
lovely wilds are the favourite home of many strange
animals. The argali, or mountain -sheep, with his
huge curving horns, is seen there ; and the shaggy
wild goat bounds along the steepest cliffs. The
black bear wanders through the wooded ravines;
and his fiercer congener, the "grizzly" — the most
dreaded of all American animals — drags his huge
body along the rocky declivities.

Having crossed the mountains, the fur countries
extend westward to the Pacific. There you en-
counter barren plains, treeless and waterless ; rapid
rivers, that foam through deep, rock-bound chan-
nels ; and a country altogether rougher in aspect,
and more mountainous, than that lying to the east
of the great chain. A warmer atmosphere prevails
as you approach the Pacific, and in some places
forests of tall trees cover the earth. In these are
found most of the fur-bearing animals ; and, on
account of the greater warmth of the climate, the
true felidcB — the long-tailed, cats — here wander
much farther north than upon the eastern side of
the continent. Even so far north as the forests of

THE PUB COUNTRIES.

Oregon tlieso appear in the forms of the cougar \
{Felis concolor\ and the ounce {Felis onza).

But it is not our intention at present to cross the
Rocky Mountains. Our journey will lie altogether
on the eastern side of that great chain. It will
extend from the frontiers of civilization to the
shores of the Arctic Sea. It is a long and
perilous journey, boy reader ; but as we have
made up our minds to it, let us waste no more
time in talking, but set forth at once. You are
ready ? Hurrah !

THE YOUN<i V0TAGEUB8.

CHAPTER n.

THE YOUNG VOTAGEURS.

Til iE is a canoe upon the waters of Red River —
Red River of the north. It is near the source of
the stream, but passing downward. It is a small
canoe, a frail structare of birch-bark, and contains
only four persons. They are all young — the eldest
of them evidently not over nineteen years of age,
and the youngest about fifteen.

The eldest is nearly full-grown, though his body
and limbs have not yet assumed the muscular de-
velopement of manhood. His complexion is dark,
nearly olive. His hair is jet-black, straight as an
Indian's, and long. His eyes are large and brilliant,
and his features prominent. His countenance ex-
presses courage, and his well-set jaws betoken
firmness and resolution. He does not belie his
looks, for he possesses these qualifications in a high

THE YOTTNa VOTAGEURS.

.|i«

degree. There is a gravity in his manner, some-
what rare in one so young ; yet it is not the result
of a morose disposition, but a subdued temperament
produced by modesty, good sense, and much expe-
rience. Neither has it the air of stupidity. No:
you could easily tell that the mind of this youth, if
once roused, would exhibit both energy and alert-
ness. His quiet manner has a far different ex-
pression. It is an air of coolness and confidence,
which tells you he has met with dangers in the
past, and would not fear to encounter them again.
It is an expression peculiar, I think, to the hunters
of the " Far West," — those men who dwell amidst
dangers in the wild regions of the great prairies.
Their solitary mode of life begets this expression.
They are often for months without the company of
a creature with whom they may converse — months
without beholding a human face. They live alone
with Nature, surrounded by her majestic forms.
These awe them into habits of silence. Such was
in point of fact the case with the youth whom we
have been describing. He had hunted much, though
not as a professional hunter. With him the chase
had been followed merely as a pastime; but its
pursuit had brought him into situations of peril,

^■m,'^

THE YOUNG VOYAGEURS.

and in contact with Nature in her wild solitudes.
Young as he was, he had journeyed over the grand
prairies, and through the pathless forests of the
West. He had shiin the bear and the buffald, the
wild cat and the cougar. These experiences had
made their impression upon his mind, and stamped
his countenance with that air of gravity we have
noticed.

The second of the youths whom we shall de-
scribe is very different in appearance. He is of
blonde complexion, rather pale, with fair silken hair
that waves gently down his cheeks, and falls upon
his shoulders. He is far from robust. On the con-
trary, his form is thin and delicate. It is not the
delicacy of feebleness or ill-healtli, but only a body
of slighter build. The manner in which he handles
his oar shows that he possesses both health and
strength, though neither in such a high degree as
the dark youth. His face expresses, perhaps, a
larger amount of intellect, and it is a countenance
that would strike you as more open and conunu-
nicative. The eye is blue and mild, and the brow
is marked by the paleness of study and habits of
continued thought. These indications are no more
than just, for the fair-haired youth is a student,

ipipiiiip

•V^-**^

THE YOUNG VOTAGEURS.

and one of no ordinary attainments. Although
only seventeen years of age, he is already well
versed in the natural sciences ; and many a gra-
duate of Oxford or Cambridge would but ill com-
pare with hir". The former might excel in the
knowledge — if we can dignify it by that name —
of the laws of scansion, or in the composition of
Greek idyls ; but in all that constitutes real
knowledge he would prove but an idle theorist, a
dreamy imbecile, alongside our practical young
scholar of ^he West.

The third and youngest of the party — taking
them as they sit from stem to bow — diflfers in
many respects from both those described. He has
neither the gravity of the first, nor yet the intel-
lectuality of the second. His face is round, and
full, and ruddy. It is bright and smiling in its
expression. His eye dances merrily in his head,
and its glance falls upon everything. His lips are
hardly ever at rest. They are either engaged in
making words — for he talks almost incessantly —
or else contracting and expanding with smiles and
joyous laughter. His cap is jauntily set, and his
fine brown curls, hanging against the rich roseate
skin of his cheeks, give to his countenance an

•^.:

THE YOUNG VOTAGEURS.

expression of extreme health and boyish beauty.
His merry laugh and free air tell you he is
not the boy for books. He is not much of a
hunter neither. In fact, he is not particularly
given to anything — one of those easy natures who-
take the world as it comes, look upon the bright
side of everything, without getting sufficiently
interested to excel in anything.

These three youths were dressed nearly alike.
The eldest wore the costume, as near as may be, of
a backwoods hunter — a tunic-like hunting-shirt, of
dressed buckskin, leggings and mocassins of the
same material, and all — shirt, leggings, and mocas-
sins — handsomely braided and embroidered with
stained quills of the porcupine. The cape of the
shirt was tastefully fringed, and so was the skirt as
well as the seams of the mocassins. On his head
was a hairy cap of raccoon skin, and the tail of the
animal, with its dark transverse bars, hung down
behind like the drooping plume of a helmet.
Around his shoulders were two leathern belts that
crossed each other upon his breast. One of these
slung a bullet-pouch covered with a violet-green
skin that glittered splendidly in the sun. It was
from the head of the " wood-duck" {Anas sponsa)^

J iRiii]! .i>iiujwiii.pi pjiji«inupii!Vfii««imiip«qiipiimiPiippq^^

,'■ t

THE YOUNG V0TAGEUR8.

the modt beautiful bird of its tribe. By the other
strap was suspended a large crescent-shaped horn
taken from the head of an Opelousas bull, and
carved with various ornamental devices. Other
smaller implements hung from the belts, attached
by leathern thongs : there was a picker, a wiper,
and a steel for striking fire with. A third belt —
a broad stout one of alligator leather — encircled the
youth's waist. To this was fastened a holster,
and the shining butt of a pistol could be seen
protruding* out ; a hunting -knife of the kind
denominated "bowie" hanging over the left hip,
completed his " arms and accoutrements."

The second of the youths was dressed, as already
stated, in a somewhat simiilar manner, though his
accoutrements were not of so warlike a character,
Like the other, he had a powder-horn and pouch,
but instead of knife and pistol, a canvass bag or
haversack hung from his shoulder ; and had you
looked into it, you would have seen that it was
half filled with shells, pieces of rock, and rare
plants, gathered during the day — the diurnal store-
house of the geo)ogist, the palaeontologist, and
botanist — to be emptied for study and examination
by the night camp-fire. Instead of the 'coon-skin

THE YOUNG VOYAGEURS.

cap he wore a white felt hat with broad leaf ; and
for leggings and mocassins he had trousers of blue
cottonade and laced buskins of tanned leather.

The youngest of the three was dressed and
accoutred much like the eldest, except that his cap
was of blue cloth — somewhat after the fashion of
the military forage cap. All three wore shirts of
coloured cotton, the best for journeying in these
uninhabited regions, where soap is scarce, and
a laundress not to be had at any price.

Though very unlike one another, these three
youths were brothers. I knew them well. I had
seen them before — about two years before — and
though each had grown several inches taller since
that time, I had no difficulty in recognising them.
Even though they were now two thousand miles
from where I had formerly encountered them, I
could not be mistaken as to their identity. Beyond
a doubt they were the same brave young adven-
turers whom I had met in the swamps of Louisiana,
and whose exploits I had witnessed upon the
prairies of Texas. They were the " Boy Hunters,"
— Basil, Lucien, Fran9ois ! I was right glad to
renew acquaintance with them. Boy reader, do
you share my joy ?

I—

„,.,,j,.,„,M, II ii|p(i Mu^i^iiii 1 1 i>wMiKVH«ijin^^pi|ip9qp^p«i||pqH

r i

ill.,

THE YOUNG VOTAGEURS.

But whither go they now ? They are full two
thousand miles from their home in Louisiana. The
Bed River upon which their canoe floats is not that
Red River, whose blood-like waters sweep through
the swamps of the hot South — the home of the alli-
gator and the gar. No, it is a stream of a far
different character, though also one of great magni-
tude. Upon the banks of the former ripens the rice-
plant, and the sugar-cane waves its golden tassels
high in the air. There, too, flourishes the giant
reed {Arundo giganted), th 3 fan-palm ( Chamcerops)^
and the broad-leafed magnolia, with its huge snow-
white flowers. There the aspect is Southern, and
the heat tropical for most part of the year.

All this is reversed on the Red River of the
North. It is true that on its banks sugar is also
produced ; but it is no longer from a plant but a
lordly tree — the great sugar-maple (^Acer sac-
charinum). There is rice too, — vast fields of
rice upon its marshy borders ; but it is not the
pearly grain of the South. It is the wild rice, " the
water oats" {Zizania aquatica\ the food of millions
of wing' 'reatures, and thousands of human beings
as well. > ..ore for three-fourths of the year the sun
is feeble, and the aspect that of winter. For months

THE YOUNG VOTAGEURS.

the cold waters are bound up in an icy embrace.
The earth is covered with thick snow, over which
rise the needle-leafed conifercB — the pines, the
cedars, the spruce, and the hemlock. Very unlike
each other are the countries watered by the two
streams, the Red River of the South and its name-
sake of the North.

But whither go our Boy Hunters in their birch-
bark canoe ? The river upon which they are voy-
aging runs duo northward into the great lake
Winnipeg. They are floating with its current, and
consequently ' increasing the distance from their
home. Whither go they ?

The answer leads us to some sad reflections. Our
joy on again beholding them is to be mingled with
grief. When we last saw them they had a father,
but no mother. Now they have neither one nor the
other. The old Colonel, their father — the French
emigre, the hunter-naturalist — is dead. He who had
taught them all they knew ; who had taught them
" to ride, to swim, to dive deep rivers, to fling the
lasso, to climb tall trees, and scale steep cliflEs, to
bring down birds upon the wing or beasts upon the
run, with the arrow and the unerring rifle; who had
trained them to sleep in the open air, in the dark

THE YOUNG VOYAGEURS.

forest, on the unsheltered prairie, along the white'
snow-wreath — anywhere — with but a blanket or a
buffalo robe for their bed; who had taught them to
live on the simplest food, and had imparted to one of
them a knowledge of science, of botany in particu-
lar, that enabled them, in case of need, to draw
sustenance from plants and trees, from roots and
fruits, to find resources where ignorant men would
starve ; had taught them to kindle a fire without
flint, steel, or detonating powder ; to discover their
direction ]svithout a compass, from the rocks and the
trees and the signs of the heavens; and in addition
to all, had taught them, as far as was then known,
the geography of that vast wilderness that stretches
from the Mississippi to the shores of the Pacific
Ocean, and northward to the icy borders of the
Arctic Sea" — he who had taught them all this, their
father, was no more; and his three sons, the "boy
men," of whom he was so proud, and of whose
accomplishments he was wont to boast, were now
orphans upon the wide world.

But little more than a year after their return
from their grand expedition to the Texan prairies,
the "old Colonel" had died. It was one of the
worst years of that scourge of the South — the

,>!,7

THE YOUNG VOTAGEUHS.

yellow fever — and to this dread pestilence he had
fallen a victim.

Hugot, the ex-ckasseur and attached domestic,
who was accustomed to follow his master like a
shadow, had also followed him into the next world.
It was not grief that killed Hugot, though he bore
the loss of his kind master sadly enough. But it
was not grief that killed Hugot. He was laid low
by the same disease of which his master had died —
the yellow fever. A week had scarcely passed
after the death of the latter, before Hugot caught
the disease, and in a few days he was carried to
the tomb and laid by the side of his " old Colonel.**

The Boy Hunters — Basil, Lucien, Fran9ois —
became orphans. They knew of but one relation
in the whole world, with whom their father had
kept up any correspondence. This relation was an
uncle, and, strange as it may seem, a Scotchman —
a Highlander, who had strayed to Corsica in early
lixe, and had there married the Colonel's sister. That
uncle had afterwards emigrated to Canada, and had
become extensively engaged in the fur trade. He
was now a superintendent or "factor " of the Hud-
son's Bay Company, stationed at one of their most
remote posts near the shores of the Arctic Sea !

f '

THE YOUNG VOYAGEURS.

There is a romance in the history of some men^ ,
wilder than any fiction that could be imagined.

I have not yet answered the question as to where
our Boy Hunters were journeying in their birch-
bark canoe. By this time you will have divined
the answer. Certainly, you will say, they were on
their way to join their uncle in his remote home.
For no other object could they be travelling through
the wild regions of the Red River. That suppo-
sition is correct. To visit this Scotch uncle (they
had not seen him for years) was the object ot
their long, toilsome, and perilous journey. After their
father's death he had sent for them. He had heard
of their exploits upon the prairies ; and, being him-
self of an adventurous disposition, he was filled
with admiration for his young kinsmen, and de-
sired very much to have them come and live with
him. Being now their guardian, he might com-
mand as much, but it needed not any exercise of
authority on his part to induce all three of them to
obey his summons. They had travelled through the
mighty forests of the Mississippi, and upon the
summer prairies of the South. These great features
of the earth's surface were to them familiar things,
and they were no longer curious about them. But

ILW...

THE YOUNG VOYAGEUHS.

there remained a vast country which they longed
eagerly to explore. They longed to look upon its
shining lakes and crystal rivers ; upon its snow-clad
hills and ice-bound streams ; upon its huge mam-
malia — its moose and its musk-oxen, its wapiti
and its monster bears. This was the very country
to which they were now invited by their kinsman,
and cheerfully did they accept his invitation. Al-
ready had they made one-half the journey, though
by far the easier half. They had travelled up the
Mississippi, by steamboat as far as the mouth of
the St. Peter's. There they had commenced their
canoe voyage — in other words became " voyageurs"
— for such is the name given to those who travel
by canoes through these wild territories. Their
favourite horses and the mule "Jeannette" had
been left behind. This was a necessity, as these
creatures, however useful upon the dry prairies of
the South, where there are few or no lakes, and
where rivers only occur at long intervals, would be
of little service to the traveller in the Northern re-
gions. Here the route is crossed and intercepted
by numerous rivers ; and lakes of all sizes, with
tracts of inundated marsh, succeed one another con-
tinually. Such, in fact, are the highways of the

THE YOUNG VOYAGEURS.

V I

* i

country, and the canoe the travelling carriage ; so*
that a journey from one point of the Hudson's Bay
territory to another is often a canoe voyage of
thousands of miles — equal to a "trip" across the
Atlantic I

Following the usual custom, therefore, our Boy
Hunters had become voyageurs — " Young Voy-
ageurs.^^ They had navigated the St. Peter's in
safety, almost to its head-waters. These interlock
with the sources of the Red River. By a "portage"
of a few miles they had crossed to the latter stream;
and, having launched their canoe upon its waters,
were now floating downward and northward with
its current. But they had yet a long journey before
them — nearly two thousand miles ! Many a river to
be " run," many a rapid to be " shot," many a lake
to be crossed, and many a " portage " to be passed,
ere they could reach the end of that great voyage.

Come, boy reader, shall we accompany them?
Yes. The strange scenes and wild adventures
through which we must pass, may lighten the toils,
and perhaps repay us for the perils, of the journey.
Think not of the toils. Roses grow only upon
thorns. From toil we learn to enjoy leisure. Re-
gard not the perils. " From the nettle danger

MlhM«*MlMMIa«MI

THE rOUNO VOYAOEURS.

we pluck the flower safety." Security often springs
from peril. From such hard experiences great
men have arisen. Come, then, my young friend !
mind neither toil nor peril, but with me to the
great wilderness of the North I

Stay ! We are to have another " compagnon
du voi/age." There is a fourth in the boat, a
fourth " young voyageur." Who is he ? In ap-
pearance he is as old as Basil, full as tall, and
not unlike him in " build." But he is altogether
of a different colour. He is fair-haired; but his
hair (unlike that of Lucien, which is also light-
coloured) is strong, crisp, and curly. It does not
droop, but stands out over his cheeks in a profusion
of handsome ringlets. His complexion is of that
kind known as "fresh," and the weather, to which
it has evidently been much exposed, has bronzed
and rather enriched the colour. The eyes are dark
blue, and, strange to say, with black brows and
lashes ! This is not common, though sometimes
observed ; and, in the case of the youth we are
describing, arose from a difference of complexion on
the part of his parents. He looked through the
eyes of his mother, while in other respects he was

THE YOUNG VOYAGEURS.

more like his father, who was fair-haired and of a
"fresh" colour.

The youth, himself, might be termed handsome.
Perliaps he did not possess the youthful beauty
of rran9ois, nor the bolder kind that characterized
the face of Basil. Perhaps he was of a coarser
"make" than any of his three companions. His
intellect had been less cultivated by education, and
education adds to the beauty of the face. His life
had been a harder one — he had toiled more with
his hands, and had seen less of civilized society.
Still many would have pronounced him a handsome
youth. His features were regular, and of clean
outline. His lips expressed good-nature as well as
firmness. His eye beamed- with native intelligence,
and his whole face bespoke a heart of true and
determined honesty — that made it beautiful.

Perhaps a close scrutinizer of countenances might
have detected some resemblance — a family one—
between him and his three companions. If such
there was, it was very slight ; but there might have
been, from the relationship that existed between
them and him. ' He was their cousin — their full
cousin — the only son of that uncle they were now

tired and of a

ed handsome,
ithful beauty
characterized
of a coarser
anions. His
ducation, and
ice. His life
d more with
ized society.
I a handsome
and of clean
re as well as
intelligence,
of true and
tiful.

lances might
imily one—
as. If such
might have
ed between
— their full
Y were now

I' !l

i>
It

TiiK voL'.NU \o\\ui:viis. — r<(!/c 21,

k\\m^^

PS>f

_ _ .,?s

V!©;

-S ,,

THE YOUNG VOYAGEURS. 27

on their way to visit, and the messenger who had
been sert to bring them. Such was the fourth of
" the young voyageurs."

His dress was not u.like that worn by Basil ; but
as he was seated on the bow, and acting as pilot,
and therefore m^re likely to feel the cold, he wore
over his hunting-skirt a Canadian capote of white
woollen clotli; w\. ts hood hanging down upon
his shoulders.

But there was still another " voyageur," an old
acquaintance, whom you, boy reader, will no doubt
remember. This was an animal, a quadruped, who
lay along the bottom of the canoe upon a buffalo's
hide. "From his size and colour — which was
a tawny red — you might luive mistaken him for a
panther — a cougar. His 2«" ::g black muzzle and
broad hanging ears g' v ^ Ilia quite a different
aspect, however, and declai .. i hiiu to be a hound.
He was one — a bloodhound, with the cross of a
mastiff — a powerful animal. It was the dog
' Marengo.' " You remember Marengo ?

In the canoe there were other objects of interest.
There were blavkets n ic buffalo robes ; there was
a small canva tent i/ile-i up; there were bags
of provisions, and some cooking utensils; there

THE YOUNG VOTAGEURS.

was a spade and an axe ; there were rifles — three
of them — and a double-barrelled shot-gun; besides
a fish-net, and many other articles, the necessary-
equipments for such a journey.

Loaded almost to the gunwale was that little
canoe, yet lightly did it float down the waters of
the Red River of the North.

i :■/

THE TRUMPETER SWAN AND THE BALD EAGLE. 29

CHAPTER III.

THE TRUMPETER SWAN AND THE BALD EAGLE.

It was the spring season, though late. The snow
had entirely disappeared from the hills, and the
ice from the water, and the melting of both had
swollen the river, and rendered its current more
rapid than usual. Our young voyageurs needed
not therefore to ply their oars, except now and
then to guide the canoe ; for t\ese little vessels
have no rudder, but are steered by the paddles.
The skilful voyageurs can shoot them to any point
they please, simply by their dexterous handling of
the oars ; and Basil, Lucien, and rran9oi8, had
had sufficient practice both with " skiffs " and
" dug-outs" to make good oarsmen of all three.
They had made many a canoe trip upon the lower
Mississippi and the bayous of Louisiana ; besides
their journey up the St. Peter's had rendered them

.'.!n^-w^T,'r j^ j:^""-'.^ .7^/;^'."

THE TRUMPETER SWAN AND

tv.

(.1

'*<

familiar with the management of their birchen
craft. An occasional stroke of the paddle kept
them in their course, and they floated on without
effort. Norman — such was the name of their
Canadian or Highland cousin — sat in the bow and
directed their course. Tliis is the post of honour in
a canoe ; and as he had more experience than any
of them in this sort of navigation, he was allowed
habitually to occupy this post. Lucien sat in the
stern. He held in his hands a book and pencil ; and
as the canoe glided onward, he was noting down his
memoranda. The trees upon the banks were in leaf
— many of them in blossom — and as the little craft
verged near the shore, his keen eye followed the
configuration of the leaves, to discover any new
speci'^'^ that might appear. There is a rich vege-
tation upon the banks of the Red River ; but the
Jlora is far different from that which appears upon
the low alluvion of Louisiana. It is Northern, but
not Arctic. Oaks, elms, and poplars, are seen
mingling with birches, willows, and aspens. Seve-
ral species of indigenous fruit trees were observed
by Lucien, among which were crab-applo, raspberry,
strawberry, and currant. There was also seen the
fruit called by the voyageurs " le poire," but which

h'f

7' r

THE BALD EAGLE.

in English phraseology is known as the " service-
berry" (Amelanchier ovalis). It grows upon a small
bush or shrub of six or eight feet high, with smooth
pinnate leaves. These pretty red berries are much
esteemed and eaten both by Indians and whites,
who preserve them by drying, and cook them in
various ways. There was still another bush that
fixed the attention of our young botanist, as it ap-
peared all along the banks, and was a characteristic
of the vegetation of the country. It was not over
eight feet in height, with spreading branches of a
grey colour. Its leaves were three inches wide,
and somewhat lobed liked those of the oak. Of
course, at this early season, the fruit was not ripe
upon it ; but Lucien knew the fruit well. When
ripe it resembles very much a red cherry, or, still
more, a cranberry, having both the appearance and
acrid taste of the latter. Indeed, it is sometimes
used as a substitute for cranberries in the making
of pies and tarts ; and in many parts it is called
the "bush cranberry." The name, however, by
which it is known among the Indians of Red River
is " anepeminan" from " nepen^'* summer, and
" minan^'' berry. This has been corrupted by the
fur-traders and voyageurs into " Pembina ;" hence,

W'v

■K

THE TRUMPETER SWAN AND

■■ "

the name of a river which runs into the Red, and
also the name of the celebrated but unsuccessful
settlement of " Pembina," formed by Lord Selkirk
many years ago. Both took their names from this
berry that grows in abundance in the neighbour-
hood. The botanical appellation of this curious
shrub is Viburnum oxycoccos ; but there is an-
other species of the viburnum, which is also styled
" oxycoccos." The common " snowball bush"
of our gardens is a plant of the same genus, and
very like the " Pembina" both in leaf and flower.
In fact, In a wild state they might be regarded as
the same j but it is well known that the flowers of
the snowball are sterile, and do not produce the
beautiful bright crimson berries of the " Pembina."
Lucien lectured upon these points to his compa-
nions as they floated along. Norman listened with
astonishment to his philosophic cousin, who, al-
though he had never been in this region before,
knew more of its plants and trees than he did him- -
self. Basil also was interested in the explanations
given by his brother. On the contrary, Francois,
who cared but little for botanical studies, or studies
of any sort, was occupied differently. He sat near
the middle of the canoe, double-barrel in hand,

THE BALD EAGLE.

iglibour-

curious

) is an-

io styled

1 bush"

tius, and

I flower.

irded as

3wers of

uce the

tnbina."

compa-

d with

ho, al-

)efore,

d him-

lations

in9ois,

tudies

near

hand,

eagerly watching for a shot. Many species of
water-fowl were upon the river, for it was now
[late in the spring, and the wild geese and ducks
had all arrived, and were passing northward upon
[their annual migration. During the day Francois
lad got several shots, and had "bagged" three
rild geese, all of different kinds, for there are
lany species of wild geese in America. He had
ilso shot some ducks. But this did not satisfy
lim. There was a bird upon the river that could
lot be approached. No matter how the canoe was
lancEuvred, this shy creature always took flight
3fore Francois could get within range. For days
le had been endeavouring to kill one. Even upon
le St. Peter's many of them had been seen, some-
times in pairs, at other times in small flocks of six
)r seven, but always shy and wary. The very dif-
iculty of getting a shot at them, along with the
splendid character of the birds themselves, had
rendered Fran9ois eager to obtain one. The bird
itself was no other than the great wild swan — the
[king of aquatic birds.

" Come, brother ! " said Fran9ois, addressing Lu-
[cien, " bother your viburnums and your oxycocks I
Tell us something about these swans. See I there

rr^

niii

ysl

.11

>■!

I
(I

THE TRUMPETER SWAN AND

goes another of them ! What a splendid fellow he
is ! I'd give something to have him within range
of buck-shot."

As Fran9oi8 spoke he pointed down-stream to a
great white bird that was seen moving out from the
bank. It was a swan, and one of the very largest
kind — a "trumpeter" (^Cygnus buccinator).

It had been feeding in a sedge of the wild rice
(Zizania aquatica\ and no doubt the sight of
the canoe or the plash of the guiding oar had dis-
turbed, arid given it the alarm. It shot out from
the reeds with head erect and wings slightly raised,
offering to the eyes of the voyagejirs a spectacle of
graceful and majestic bearing, that, among the fea-
thered race at least, is quite inimitable.

A few strokes of its broad feet propelled it iiito
the open water near the middle of the stream, when,
making a half wheel, it turned head down the
river, and swam with the current.

At the point where it turned it was not two
hundred yards ahead of the canoe. Its apparent
boldness in permitting them to come so near with-
out taking wing, led Fran9ois to hope that they
might get still nearer ; and, begging his companions
to ply^the paddles, he seized hold of his double-

THE BALD EAGLE.

r-iTw.

barrel, and leaned forward in the canoe. Basil
also conceived a hope that a shot was to be had,
for he took up his rifle, and looked to the cock and
cap. The others went steadily and quietly to
work at the oars. In a few moments the canoe
cleft the current at the rate of a galloping horse,
and one would have supposed that the swan must
either at once take wing or be overtaken.

Not so, however. The "trumpeter" knew his

[game better than that. He had full confidence

both in his strength and speed upon the water.

[He was not going to undergo the trouble of a fly,

mtil the necessity arose for so doing ; and, as it

ras, he seemed to be satisfied that that necessity

lad not yet arrived. The swim cost him much

less muscular exertion than flying would have

lone, and he judged that the current, here very

swift, would carry him out of reach of his pursuers.

It soon began to appear that he judged rightly ;

land the voyageurs, to their chagrin, saw that,

[instead of gaining upon him, as they had expected,

jvery moment widened the distance between him

[and the canoe. The bird had an advantage over

[his pursuers. Three distinct powers propelled him,

while they had cftily two to rely upon. He had the

;,?«*■-*■'.'■:

THE TUUMPETER SWAN AND

i !'

'(./

current in his favour — so had they. He had oars
or paddles — his feet ; they had oars as well. He
" carried sail," while they spread not a " rag."
The wind chanced to blow directly down-stream,
and the broad wings of the bird, held out from his
body, and half extended, caught the very pith of
the breeze on their double concave surfaces, and
carried him through the water with the velocity of
an arrow. Do you think that he was not aware of
this advantage when he started in the race ? Do
you suppose that these birds do not think ? I for
one am satisfied they do, and look upon every one
who prates about the instinct of these creatures as
a philosopher of a very old school indeed. Not
only does the great swan think, but so does your
parrot, and your piping bullfinch, and the little
canary that hops on your thumb. All think, and
reason^ sind. judge. Should it ever be your fortune
to witness the performance of those marvellous
birds, exhibited by the graceful Mdlle. Vander-
meersch in the fashionable salons of Paris and
London, you will agree with me in the belief that
the smallest of them has a mind like yourself.

Most certainly the swan, which our voyageurs
were pursuing, thought, and reasoned, and judged,

THE BALD EAGLE.

and calculated his distance, and resolved to keep
on " the even tenor of his way," without putting
himself to extra trouble by beating the air with
his wings, and lifting his heavy body — thirty
pounds at least — up into the heavens. Ilis judg-
ment proved sound ; for, in less than ten minutes
from the commencement of the chase, he had
gained a clear hundred yards upon his pursuers,
«nd continued to widen the distance. At intervals
he raised his beak higher than usual, and uttered
his loud boom note, which fell upor the ears
of the voyageurs as though it had been sent back
in mockery and defiance.

They would have given up the pursuit, had they
not noticed that a few hundred yards farther down
the river made a sharp turn to the right. The
swan, on leaching this, would no longer have the
wind in his favour. This inspired them with fresh
hopes. They thought they would be able to over-
take him after passing the bend, and then, either
get a shot at him, or force him into the air. The
latter was the more likely ; and, although it would
be no great gratification to see him fly off, yet they
had become so interested in this singular chase that
they desired to terminate it by putting the trum-

THE TRUMPETER SWAN AND

peter to some trouble. They bent, therefore, with
fresh energy to their oars, and pulled onward in
the pursuit. First the swan, and after him the
canoe, swung round the bend, and entered the new
" reach" of the river. The voyageurs at once
perceived that the bird now swam more slowly.
He no longer " carried sail," as the wind was no
longer in his favour. His wings lay closely folded
to his body, and he moved only by t>"? aid of his
webbed feet and the current, which last happened to
be sluggish, as the river at this part spread over a
wide expanse of level land. The canoe was evi-
dently catching up, and each stroke was bringing
the parc"cr° "fearer to the pursued.

After a few minutes' brisk pulling, the trumpeter
had lost so much ground that he was not two
hundred yards in the advance, and " dead ahead."
His body was no longer carried with the same
gracefulness, and the majestic curving of his neck
had disappeared. His bill protruded forward, and
his thighs began to drag the water in his wake.
He was evidently on the threshold of flight. Both
Fran9ois and Basil saw this, as they utood with
their guns crossed and ready.

At this moment a shrill cry sounded over the water.

THE BALD EAGLE.

It was the scream of some wild creature, ending
in a strange laugh, like the laugh of a maniac !

On both sides of the river there was a thick
forest of tall trees of the cotton-wood species
(Populus angustifolid). From this forest the
strange cry had proceeded, and from the right
bank. Its echoes had hardly ceased, when it was
answered by a similar cry from the trees upon the
left. So like were the two, that it seemed as if
some one of God's wild creatures was mocking
another. These cries were hideous enough to
frighten any one not used to them. They had not
that effect upon our voyageurs, who knew their
import. One and all of them were ftimiliar with
the voice of the ivhite-headed eagle!

The trumpeter knew it as well as any of them,
but on him it produced a far different effect. His
terror was apparent, and his intention was all at
once changed. Instead of rising into the air, as he
had premeditated, he suddenly lowered his head,
and disappeared under the water!

Again was heard the wild scream and the maniac
laugh; and the next moment an eagle swept out
from the timber, and, after a few strokes of its
broad wing, poised itself over the spot where the

fPP?liP»PIIWPI^WIiPI**"W»-"«?15|l|

THE TRUMPETER SWAN AND

' <

trumpeter had gone down. The other, i:s mate,
was seen crossing at the same time /rom the
opposite side.

Presently the swan rose to the surface, but his
head was hardly out of the water when the eagle
once more uttered its wild note, and, half folding
its wings, darted down from above. The swan
seemed to have expected this, for before the eagle
could reach the surface, he had gone under a
second time, and the latter, though passing with
the velocity of an arrow, plunged his talons in the
water to no purpose. With a cry of disappoint-
ment the eagle mounted back into the air, and com-
menced wheeling in circles over the spot. It was
now joined by its mate, and both kept round and
round watciiing for the reappearance of their
intended victim.

Again the sran came to the surface, but before
either of the eagles could swoop upon him he had
for the third time disappeared. The swan is but
an indifferent diver ; but under such circumstances
he was likely to do his best at it. But what could
it avail him ? He must soon rise to the surface
to take breath — each time at shorter intervals.
He would soon become fatigued and unable to dive

•aii.b

THE BALD EAGLE.

with suflficient celerity, and then his cruel enemies
would be down upon him with their terrible talons.
Such is the usual result, unless the swan takes to
the air, which he sometimes does. In the present
case he had built his hopes upon a different means
of escape. He contemplated being able to conceal
himself in a heavy sedge of bulrushes {Scirpus
lacustris) that grew along the edge v.f the river,
and towards these he was evidently directing his
course under the water. At each emersion he ap-
peared some yards nearei them, until at length he
rose within a few feet of their margin, and diving
again was seen no more ! He had crept in among
the sedge, and no doubt was lying with only his
head, or part of it, above the water, his body con-
cealed by the broad leaves of the Hymphce^ while
the head itself could not be distinguished among the
white flowers that lay thickly along the surface.
The efigles now wheeled over the sedge, flap-
ping tlie tops of the bulrushes with their broad
wings, and screaming with disappointed rage.
Keen as were their eyes they could not discover
the hiding-place of their victim. No doubt they
would have searched for it a long while, but the
canoe— which they now appeared to notice for the

^"Pl

•/^.*.;

THE TRUMPETFR SWAN AND

1 1.

I ill'

^; i

first time — ^had floated near : and, becoming aware
of tlieir own danger, both mounted into the air
again, and with a farewell scream flew off, and
alighted at some distance down the river.

" V swan for supper ! " shouted Francois, as he
poisea his gun for the expected shot.

The cfHioe was headed for the bulrushes near
the point where the trumpeter had been last seen ;
and a few strokes of the paddles brought the little
craft with a whizzing sound among the sedge.
But the culms of the rushes were so tall, and
grew so closely together, that the canoe-men, after
entering, found to their chagrin they could not
see six feet around them. They dared not stand
up, for this is exceedingly dangerous in a birch
canoe, where the greatest caution is necessary to
keep the vessel from careening over. Moreover, the
sedge was so thick, that it was with difficulty they
could use their oars. They remained stationary
for a time, surrounded by a wall of green bulrush.
They soon perceived that that would never do,
and resolved to push back into the open water.
Meanwhile Marengo had been sent into the sedge,
and was now heard plunging and sweltering about
in search of the game. Marengo was not much

THE BALD EAGLE.

of a water-dog by nature, but he had been trained
to almost every kind of hunting, and his expe-
rience among the s\, amps of Louisiana had long
since relieved him of all dread for the water.
His masters therefore had no fear but that Marengo
would "put up" the trumpeter.

Marengo had been let loose a little too soon.
Before the canoe could be cleared of the entangling
sedge, the dog was heard to utter one of his loud
growls, then followed a heavy plunge, there was a
confused fluttering of wings, and the great white bird
rose majestically into the air ! Before either of the
gunners could direct their aim, he was beyond the
range of shot, and both prudently reserved their
fire. Marengo having performed his part, swam
back to the canoe, and was lifted over the gunwale.

The swan, after clearing the sedge, rose almost
vertically into the air. These birds usually fly at a
great elevation — sometimes entirely beyond the
reach of sight. Unlike the w^ild geese and ducks,
they never alight upon land, but always upon the
bosom of the water. It was evidently the inten-
tion of this one to go far from the scene of his late
dangers, perhaps to the great lake Winnipeg itself

After attaining a height of several hundred

■':i:

; ?:•

i. '

THE TRUMPETER SWAN AND

yards, he flew forward in a horizontal course, and
followed the direction of the stream. His flight
was now regular, and his trumpet-note could be
heard at intervals, as, with outstretched neck, he
glided along the heavens. He seemed to feel the
pleasant sensations that every creature has after an
escape from danger, and no doubt he fancied himself
secure. But in this fancy he deceived himself.
Better for him had he risen a few hundred yards
higher, or else had uttered his self-gratulation in a
more subdued tone ; for it was heard and answered,
and that response was the maniac laugh of the
white-headed eagle. At the same instant two of
these birds — those already introduced — were seen
mounting into the air. They did not fly up verti-
cally, as the swan had done, but in spiral curves,
wheeling and crossing each other as they ascended.
They were making for a point that would intersect
the flight of tha swan should he keep on in his
horizontal course. This, however, he did not do.
With an eye as quick as theirs, he saw that he was
"headed;" and, stretching his long neck upward,
he again pursued an almost vertical line. But he
had to carry thirty pounds of flesh and bones,
while the largest of the eagles — the female bird —

THE BALD EAGLE.

with a still broader spread of wing, was a " light
weight" of only seven. The result of this differ-
ence was soon apparent. Before the trumpeter had
got two huiidred yards higher, the female of the
eagles was seen wheeling around him on the same
level. The swan was now observed to double, fly
downward, and then upward again, while his
mournful note echoed back to the earth. But his
eflforts were in vain. After a series of contortions
and manoeuvres, the eagle darted forward, with a
quick toss threw herself back-downward, and, strik-
ing upward, planted her talons in the under part of
the wing of her victim. The lacerated shaft fell
uselessly down ; and the great white bird, no longer
capable of flight, came whistling through the air.
But it was not allowed to drop directly to the earth;
it would have fallen on the bosom of the broad river,
and that the eagles did not wish, as it would have
given them some trouble to get the heavy carcass
ashore. As soon as the male — who vas lower in
the air— saw that his partner had struck the bird,
he discontinued his upward flight, and, poising
himself on his sp-^au tail, waited its descent. A
single instant was sufficient. The white object
passed him still fluttering ; but the moment it was

46 THE TRUMPETER SWAN AND THE BALD EAGLE.

below his level he shot after it like an arrow, and,
clutching it in his talons, with an outward stroke
sent it whizzing in a diagonal direction. The next
moment a crashing was heard among the twigs, and
a dull sound announced that the swan had fallen
upon the earth.

The eagles were now seen sailing downward, and
soon disappeared among the tops of the trees.

The canoe soon reached the bank ; and Fran9ois,
accompanied by Basil and Marengo, leaped ashore,
and went in search of the birds. They found the
swan quite dead and lying upon its back as the eagles
had turned it. Its breast was torn open, and the
crimson blood, with which they had been gorging
themselves, was spread in broad flakes over its
snowy plumage. The eagles themselves, scared by
the dog Marengo, had taken flight before the boys
could get within shot of them.

As it was just the hour for a " noon halt" and a
luncheon, the swan was carried to the bank of the
river, where a crackling fire was soon kindled to
roast him; and while this operation was going on
the "naturalist" was requested by his companions
to give them an account of the " swans of America."

i •»;/

!iH9iege-Hij.uujji.

l«*v.%.^

^a^t '^^■^'*^? s.-^

:'■*•!;' .-'

Of%-

■lllli TULJU'LTKll SWAN AM) TUr. IIAI.I) .:AG1,K.— PrtiT*' 4G.

'',(

r \

/• I

THE SWANS OP AMERICA. ' i

CHAPTER IV.

THE SWANS OF AMERICA.

"Very well, then," said Lucien, agreeing to the
request. " I shall tell you all I know of the swans ;
and, indeed, that is not much, as the natural history
of these birds in their wild state is but little under-
stood. On account of their shy habits, there is not
much opportunity of observing them ; and as they
annually migrate and breed in those desolate re-
gions within the Arctic circle, where civilized men
do not live, but little information has been col-
lected about them. Some of the species, however,
breed in the temperate zones, and the habits of
these are better known.

" For a long time it was fancied there was but
one species of swan. It is now known that there
are several, distinguished from each other in form,
colour, voice, and habits. * White as a swan,' is a

.ik

THE SWANS OF AMERICA.

i i

simile as old, perhaps, as language itself. This, I
fancy, would sound strangely to the ears of a native
Australian, who is accustomed to look upon swans
as being of the very opposite colour, for the black
swan is a native of that country.

"According to the naturalist Brehm, who has
given much attention to this subject, there are four
distinct species of swans in Europe. They .are all
white, though some of the species have a reddish
orange tinge about the head and neck. Two of
them are 'gibbous,' that is, with a knob or protu-
berance upon the upper part of the bill. One of
these Brehm terms the 'white-headed gibbous
swan ' ( Cygnus gibbus). The other is the ' yellow-
headed ' ( C. olor) ; and this last also is known as
the mute or tame swan, because it is that species
most commonly seen in a tame state upon the orna-
mental lakes and ponds of England. The other two
European species Brehm has designated 'singing
swans,' as both of them utter a note that may be
heard to a considerable distance.

" The black swan of Australia ( C. niger) has been
naturalized in Europe, and breeds freely in Eng-
land, where, from its great size and peculiar mark-
ings, it is one of the most ornamental of water-

I /

■■■M-

IBE SWANS OF AMERICA.

fowls. It is, moreover, a great tyrant, and will
not permit other birds to approach its haunt, but
drives them off, striking them furiously with its
strong broad wings.

" Until a late period the swans of America were
I supposed to be all of one kind. This is not the
case. There are now known to be three distinct
species inhabiting the fur countries, and migrat-
ing annually to the South. That which is best
jknown is the 'whistler,' or 'hooper' (C Ameri'
"Mnus), because it is the species that abounds in
the old States upon the AtV-intic, and was there-
fore more observed by naturalists. It is believed
ko be identical with one of the European * singing '
^wans (C.ferus), but this is not certain; and for
ly part, I believe they are different, as the eggs of
the American swan are greenish, while those of
Its European congener are brownish, with white
)lotclies.
" The ' hooper ' is four and a half feet in length,
Ithough there are ma' js still krger, some of them
Imeasuring five feet. Its colour is white, except
ppon the head and back part of the neck, where
there is a coppery tinge. The bill and feet are
[black. From the angle of the mouth to the eye

THE SWANS OP AMERICA.

there is a small naked * cere,' of a bright yellow
colour. These swans, like others of the genus, do
not care much for the salt water. They are rarely
seer, upon the sea, except near its shores, where
they may find the aquatic plants upon which they
feed. Nor do they go out upon the large lakes.
When found upon these, it is generally close in to
the land. This is accounted for by ihe fact that the
swans do not ' dive ' for their food, but stretch down
for it with their long necks, which Nature has
peculiarly adapted to this very purpose. Their
favourite food consists of the roots of aquatic plants,
which are often farinaceous. As these grow best
in the shallow small lakes and along the margins of
riverSj such places are the usual resort of the swans.
Although their diet is a vegetable one, it is not
exclusively so, as they will eat frogs, worms, and
small fish. Unlike the ducks and geese, tiicy rarely
feed upon land, but while floating upon the surface
of the water. They walk but awkwardly on land,
and are at home only on water or in the air. In
the air they are quite at home, and fly so swiftly
that it is no easy matter to shoot them, especially
when going before the wind. At such times they
are supposed to fly at the rate of one hundred miles

THE SWANS OF AMERICA.

an hcrar. When moulting, and unable to rise into
the air, it is no easy matter to foilow them even
with a canoe. By means of their broad feet and
strong wings, they can flutter so quickly over the
water, now and then diving, that the hunter cannot
overtake them in his boat, but is obliged to use his
gun in the pursuit.

"The 'hoopers' are migratory, — that is, they
pass to the north every spring, and southward again
in the autumn. Why they make these annual
migrations, remain f: one of the mysteries of na-
ture. Some believe they migrate to the north,
because they there find those desolate uninhitbitel
regions where they can bring forth their young
in security. But this explanation cannot be the
true one, as there are also uninhabited regions
in the south, even under the equator, where they
may be equally free from the presence of man.
Another explanation might be offered. In hot and
tropical countries most of the small lakes and
swamps, where these birds lovt to dwell, dry up
during the summer months : hence the necessity
of a migration to colder and moister regions. But
this would only hold good of the wading and water

rhiMjpj'K

^en^.''

THE SWANS OP AMERICA.

birds ; it '.vould not account for the migration of
the many other bird* of passage.

" A better explanation may be this : The north
and the cold zones are the natural habitat of most
migratory birds. It is there that they bring forth
their young, and there they are at home. In
tropical regions they are only sojourners for a
season, forced tl\ither, some of them, by a cold
which they do not relish ; but others, such as the
water fowl, by the frost, which, binding up the
lakes, rivers, and swamps, hinders them from pro-
curing their food. They are thus compelled to
make an annual migration to the open waters of
the South, but as soon as the ice has given way
before the genial breath of spring, they all return
rejoicing to their favourite home in the North, when
their season of love commences.

" The ' hoopers ' follow this general law, and
migrate to the northward every spring. They
breed upon islets in the nunerous lakes that stud
the whole northern part of tho American continent.
Eminences in swamps are also ' hoson for breeding
places, and the ends of promontories that jut out
into the water. The spot selected is always such

THE SWANS OP AMERICA.

that the swan, when seated upon her nest, can have
a view of the surrounding country, and detect any
enemy long before it can approach her. The top
of the dome-shaped dwellings of the musk-rat, or
musquash {Fiber zibethicus), is often selected by
the swan for her nest. These curious little houses
are usually in the midst of impenetrable swamps :
they are only occupied by their builders during the
winter ; and as they f^re deserted by them in early
spring, they are therefore quite at the service of
the swan for the ' balance of the season.' The bird
makes a large cavity in the top, and lines it vith
such reeds and grass as may be found near the spot.
" The hooper lays from six to eight eggs, and sits
upon them for a period of six weeks, when the
cygnets come forth covered with a thick down of a
bluish-grey colour. While sitting upon her eggs,
the swan is exceedingly watchful and shy. She
* faces ' towards the point whence she most appre-
hends danger. When the weather is severe, and
the wind cold and keen, she changes into that posi-
tion which is most comfortable. If her nest be upon
a promontory instead of an island, she usually sits
with her head to the land, as she feels secure that
no enemy will reach her from the waterside. From

r-fi-W^furt, ■

^im^r'sr^'-

THE SWANS OF AMERICA.

the land she has not only man to 'look out' for, but
the wolverene ( Gulo luscus), the lynx {Felis Cana-
densis), foxes, and wolves.

" The Indians often snare the swan npon her nest,
or course the snare — a running noose made from
the jiitestines of the deer — is set in her absence.
It is placed upon the side by which she enters, as
these birds enter and leave the nest upon opposite
sides. The snare must be arranged with great
care, and with clean hands ; and the Indians al-
ways take the precaution to wash tb^ir hands
before setting it, else, the swans, whose sense of
smell is very acute, will perceive the presence of
danger, and will not only keep away for a time,
but sometimes desert the eggs altogether. There
are many other birds that have a similar habit.

" So much for the ' hooper,' " continued Lucien ;
" now for the ' trumpeter.' This is the largest of
the American swans, being found to measure
seventy inches in length. Its specific name ' trum-
peter' (C buccinator) is given to it on account of
its note, which resembles the sound of a French
horn, or trumpet, played at a distance. The bird is
white, with black bill and feet, and has also a red-
dish orange or copper tinge upon the crown and

THE SWANS OF AMERICA.

Jt' for, but
elis Cana-

n her nest,
nade from
r absence,
enters, as
1 opposite
^ith great
idians al-
'ir hands

sense of
esenee of
' a time.
There

habit.
Lucien ;
irgpst of
measure
* *trum-
Jount of

French

bird is
> a red-
ivn and

"01

neck ; but it wants the yellow spot between the
split of the mandibles and the eye. It is easily
distinguished from the hooper, both by its louder
note and larger body. Its habit?, however, are
very similar, except that it seems to be more
gregarious, — small flocks of six or eight often ap-
pearing together, while the hooper is seen only in
pairs, and sometimes solitary. Another distinction
is, that the trumpeter arrives much earlier in its
migrations to the North, being the earliest bird that
appears except the eagles. It breeds as far South as
latitude 61°, but most generally within the Arctic
circle. Its nest is constructed similarly to those of
the hooper, but its eggs are much larger, one of
them being a meal for a moderate eater, without
bread or any other addition. The trumpeter fre-
quently arrives in the North before the lakes or
rivers are thawed. It is then obliged to find sus-
tenance at the rapids and waterfalls, where the
Indians can approach under cover, and many are
shot at such times by these people. At all other
times, as you, Fran9ois, have observed, it is a bird
most difficult of approach ; and the Indian hunters
only attempt it when they have a long-range gun
loaded with ball.

'.'C7.;

,.-M'r .'■■.

THE SWANS OP AMERICA.

" The third species of American swans is that
known as Bewick's swan (C Bewickii), called
after the naturalist of that name. It is the
smallest of the three, rarely measuring over fifty-
two inches in length, and weighing only fourteen
pounds, while the hooper is over twenty pounds in
weight, and the trumpeter i3 often obtained of the
enormous weight of thirty I

" Bewick's swan is also said to be identical with
one of Brehm's singing swans. Its colour is almost
similar to that of the hooper, and the two are often
mistaken for each other. The size and the tail-
feathers of all three of the American swans form a
sufficiently specific distinction. In the trumpeter
these are twenty-four in number, in the hooper
twenty, while the small species has only eighteen.

" Of the three, the last-mentioned is the latest on
its annual journey, but it breeds farther North than
either of the others. Its nest is found upon the
islands of the Arctic Sea ; it is usually built of peat-
moss, and is of gigantic dimensions, being six feet
long by five in width, and nearly two feet high. In
the top of this pile is the nest itself, forming a large
round cavity nearly two feet in diameter. The eggs
are of a brownish white, with clouds of darker tint.

THE SWANS OF AMERICA.

" I have remarked," continued Lucien, " a sin-
gularity in the geographical distribution of these
three species. Upon the Pacific coast the smallest
kind and the hooper only are met with, and the
small ones outnumber the others in the ratio of five
to one. In the interior parts of the continent only
the hoopers and trumpeters appear ; and the trum-
peters are by far the most numerous, while upon
the eastern coasts of America the hoopers are the
sort best known.

" The swans are eagerly hunted both by the
Indians and white hunters. Their skins, with the
quills and down, form a source of profit to the
natives of the fur countries, who dispose of them
to the Hudson's Bay Company. In some years as
many as ten thousand skins have been exported,
and sold at the rate of six or seven shillings each.
Most of the skins thus sold were those of the
trumpeter swans, which are the most numerous.

" Now," said Lucien, in conclusion, "you know
as much about the swans as I do ; so I shall drop
the subject, and recommend to all of you a piece of
roast swan, which is now just done to a turn, and
which I doubt not will be found less dry than my
lecture."

. '7fTr^''"~; '■''^Tv ■ -T**.-' ,.^1

/•I

A SWAN-HUNT BY TORCHLIGHT.

CHAPTER V.

A SWAN-HUNT BY TORCHLIGHT.

A FEW days brought our travellers to the settle-
ment of Red River, where they made but a very
short stay ; and, having procured a few articles
which they stood in need of, they resumed their
journey, and floated on towards Lake Winnipeg.
The swans were seen in greater numbers than ever.
They were not less shy however, and Fran9ois, as
before, in vain tried to get a shot at one. He was
very desirous of bringing down one of these noble
birds, partly because the taste he had had of their
flesh had given him a liking for it; and partly
because their shyness had greatly tantalized him.
One is always more eager to kill shy game, both on
account of the rarity of the thing, and the credit
one gets for his expertness. But the voyageurs
had now got within less than twenty miles of Lake

A SWAN-HUNT BY TORCHLIGHT.

--i->

Winnipeg, and Fran9ois had not as yet shot a
single swan. It was not at all likely the eagles
would help him to another. So there would be
no more roast swan for supper.

Norman, seeing how eager Fran9ois was to shoot
one of these birds, resolved to aid him by his
advice.

" Cousin Frank," said he, one evening as they
floated along, " you wish very much to get a shot
at the swans ? "

" I do," replied Fran9ois, — " I do ; and if you can
tell me how to accomplish that business, I'll make
you a present of this knife." Here Francois held
up a very handsome clasp-knife that he carried in
his pouch.

A knife in the fur countries is no insignificant
affair. With a knife you may sometimes buy a
horse, or a tent, or a whole carcass of beef, or,
what is stranger still, a wife ! To the hunter in
these wild regions — perhaps a thousand miles from
where knives are sold — such a thing is of very
great value indeed ; but the knife which Fran9ois
offered to his cousin was a particularly fine one,
and the latter had once expressed a wish to become

'.^.x^^'.

A SWAN-HUNT BY TORCHLIGHT.

1!^

the owner of it. Ho was not slow, therefore, in
accepting the conditions.

" Well," rejoined he, " you must consent to travel
a few miles by night, and I think I can promise
you a shot at the trumpeters — perhaps several."

"What say you, brothers?" asked Fran9ois,
appealing to Basil and Lucien ; " shall we have the
sport ? Say yes."

" Oh ! I have no objection," said Lucien.

" Nor I," added Basil. " On the contrary, I
should like it above all things. I wish very much
to know what plan our cousin shall adopt. I never
heard of any mode of approaching these birds."

" Very well, then," answered Norman, " I shall
have the pleasure of instructing you in a way that
is in use in these parts among the Indians, who
hunt the swan for its skin and quills, which they
trade to us at the post. We can manage it to-
night, I think," continued he, looking up at the
sky : " there is no moon, and the sky is thick.
Yes, it will be dark enough."

" Is it necessary the night should be a dark
one?" asked Fran9ois.

" The darker the better," replied Norman. " To-

A SWAN-HUNT BY TORCHLIGHT.

/ ■ ,'

refore, in

; to travel
promise
eral."
Fran9ois,
have the

itrary, I
ry much
I never
Js."

' I shaU
^ny that
IS, who
eh they
3 it to-
at the
thick.

I dark

"To-

night, if I am not mistaken, will be as black is
pitch. But we need to make some preparations.
It is near sundown, and we shall have just time to
get ready for the business. Let us get ashore,
then, as quickly as possible."

" Oh ! certainly — ^let us land," replied all tlu"ce
at once.

The canoe was now turned to the shore ; and
when it had arrived within a few feet of the land
it was brought to a stop. Its keel was not allowed
to touch the bottom of the river, as that would
have injured the little craft. The greatest pre-
caution is always observed both in landing and
embarking these vessels. The voyageurs first get
out and Avade to the shoi r , one or two remaining
to hold the canoe in its place. The cargo, whatever
it be, is then taken out and landed ; and after that
the canoe itself is lifted out of the water, and
carried ashore, where it is set, bottom upward, to
dry. The birch-bark canoe is so frail a structure,
that, were it brought rudely in contact c-fher with
the bottom or the bank, it would be very much
damaged, or might go to pieces altogether. Hence
the care with which it is handled. It is dan-
gerous, also, to stand upright in it, as it is so

^•1

A SWAN-HUNT BY TOUCnLIOnT.

, > ! I

. ,M

1 1

"crank" that it would easily turn over, and spill
both canoo-mon and cargo into the water. The
voyageurs, therefore, when once they have got in,
remain seated during the whole passage, shifting
about as little as they can help. When landed for
the night, the canoe is always taken out of the
Welter as described. The bark is of a somewhat
spongy nature ; and if left in the water for a length
of time, would become soaked and heavy, and
would not run so well. When kept all night, bot-
tom upward, it drips and becomes dryer and lighter.
In the morning, at the conmienccment of the day's
journey, it sits higher upon the Avater than in the
afternoon and evening, and is at that time more
easily paddled along.

Our voyageurs, having got on shore, first kindled
a fire to cook their supper. This they intended to
despatch earlier than usual, so as to give them the
early part of the night for their swan-hunt, which
they expected to finish before midnight. Lucien
did the cooking, while Norman, assisted by Basil
and Fran9ois, made his preparations for the hunt.
Fran9ois, who was more interested in the result
than any of them, watched every movement of his
cousin. Nothing escaped him.

A SWAN-HUNT BY TORCHLIGHT.

Norman proceeded as follows : —

Ho walked off into the woods, accompanied by
Fran9ois. After going about an hundred yards or
so, he stopped at the foot of a certain tree. The
tree was a birch — easily distinguished by its smooth,
silvery bark. By means of his sharp hunting-knife
lie " girdled " this tree near the ground, and then
higher up, so that the length between the two
"girdlings," or circular cuttings, was about four
feet. He then made a longitudinal jncision by
drawing the point of his knife from one circle to
the other. This done he inserted the blade under
the bark, and peeled it off, as he would have taken
the skin from a buffalo. The tree was a foot in
diameter, consequently the bark, when stripped off
and spread flat, was about three feet in width ; for
you must remember that the circumference of a
circle or a cylinder is always about three times the
length of its diameter, and therefore a tree is three
times as much " round " as it is " through."

They now returned to the camp-fire, taking along
with them the piece of bark that had been cut off.
This was spread out, though not quite flat, still
leaving it somewhat curved. The convex side, that
which had lain towards the tree, was now blackened

F-P ;

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-(!■ 1

i: I

A SWAN -HUNT BY TORCHLIGHT.

with pulverized charcoal, which Norman had
directed Basil to prepare for the purpose ; and to
the bark at one end was fastened a stake or shaft.
Nothing more remained but to fix this stake in the
canoe, in an upright position near the bow, and in
such a way that the bottom of the piece of bark
would be upon a level with the seats, with its
hollow side looking forward. It would thus form a
screen, and prevent those in the canoe from being
seen by any creature that nii^it be ahead.

When all this had been arranged, Norman
shouldered the axe, and again walked off into the
woods. This time Ms object was to obtain a
quantity of " kno«fS ^ of the pctcii-pine {^Pimis
rigidd), which he kjoew would ai«Mt likely be found
in such a situation. Tlit- ~.Ttv -w^m soon discovered,
and pointed out to Fiancoio, wa*) accompanied him
as before. Francois saw timt it wjafe a tree of
about fifty f^et in height, and a iioot in diameter at
its base. Its bark was thick, very oark in lie
colour, and full of cracks or fissures, ifc leaves, or
" needles," were about three inches loii^ and grew
in threes, each three forming a little bunch, bound
together at its base by a brownish sheath. These
bunches, in botanical language, are termed "fasciles."

?:|

^^ It ,

A SWAN-HUXT BY TORCHLIGHT.

»rman had:
)se : and to
le or shaft,
itake in the
)ow, and in
ce of bark
i, with its
;hus form a
from being
d.

[, Norman

)ff into the

obtain a

ne (Pinus

be found

iscovered,

)amed him

a tree of

iamcter at

k in liie

leaves, or

and grew

ch, bound

1. These

■'fasciles."

The cones were somewhat shorter than the leaves,
nearly of the shape of eggs, and clustered together
in threes and fours. Francois noticed that the tree
was thickly branched, and therefore there are
many knots in the wood. For this reason it is not
of much use as timber ; but on account of the resin
which it contains, it is the best species for lire-
wood ; and for that purpose it is used in all parts
of tlie United States, where it grows. Most of
the pin ^ -wood sold for fuel m the large cities of
America is the wood of this species.

Fran(;ois supposed that his companion was about
to fell one of the trees. He was mistaken, how-
ever ; Norman had no such intention ; he had only
stopped before one to examine it, and make sure
that it was the species he was in search of. He
was soon satisfied of this, and moved on, directing
his eyes along the ground. Again he stopped ;
but this time it was by a tree that had already
fallen — blown down, perhaps, by the wind. It
was half decayed ; but Francois could see that it
was one of the same species — the pitch-pine.

This vv^as the very thing Norman wanted, and
plying his axe, he soon knocked out a large quan-

'.|l,l|JI»Il|P<fiWtPnpi|||< II. l^rrr^TUH

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A SWAN-HUNT B TORCHLIGHT.

It'.

It.

riil

: t

tity of tie TGi^inous knots. These he at length
coliiicted, and putting them into a bag, returned
With Fran9ois to the lire. He then announced
that he had no further preparations to make.

Ail four now sat down to supper, which con-
sisted of dry meat, witli biscuits and coffee ; and,
as their appetites were sharpened by their water
journey, they made a hearty meal of it.

As soon as they had finished eating, the canoe
was launched and got ready. The screen of birch-
bark was set up, by lashing its shaft to the bottom
timbers, and also to one of the seats. Imme-
diately in front of this, and out upon the bow, was
placed the frying-pan ; and this having been secured
by being tied at the handle, was filled with dry
pine-knots, ready to be kindled at a moment's notice.
These arrangements being made, the hunters only
awaited the darkness to set forth.

In the progress of their hunt they would be
carried still farther down-stream : but as that
was the direction in which they were travelling,
they would only be progressing on their journey,
and thus " killing two birds with one stone." This
was altogether a very pleasant consideration ; and,

A SWAN-HUNT BY TORCHLIGHT.

r-"'

having stowed everything snugly in the canoe,
they .sat chatting agreeably and waiting for the
arrival of night.

Night came at length, and, as Norman had pre-
dicted, it was as " dark as pitch." Stopping gently
into the canoe, and seating themselves in their
respective places, they pushed out and commenced
floating down-stream. Noi*man sat near the bow,
in order to attend to his torch of pine-knots.
Franr-ois was next to him, holding his double-
barrel, loaded with buc -. A, which is the same
size as that used for swans, and in England is
even known as " swan-shot."

Next came Basil with his rifle. He sat near
Francois, just by the middle of the little vessel.
Lucion, who was altogether a man of peace prin-
ciples, and but little of a shot compared with
either of his brothers, handled the oar — not to
propel the canoe, but merely to guide it. In this
way the party floated on in silence.

Norman soon kindled liis torch, which now cast
its red glare over the surface of the river, ex-
tending its fiery radii even to the banks on both
aides of the stream. The trees that overhung
the water seemed tinged with vermilion, and the

i S'

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('i

•I

A SWAN-HUNT BY TORCHLIGHT.

I'l

[

rippling wave sparkled like liquid gold. The
light only extended over a semicircle. From the
manner in which the torch was placed, its light
did not fall upon the other half of the circle, and
this, by contrast, appeared even darker than it
would otherwise have done.

The advantage of the plan which Norman had
adopted was at once apparent to all. Ahead of
the canoe the whole river was plainly seen for a
distance of several hundred yards. No object
larger than a cork could have floated on its sur-
face, without being visible to those in the vessel —
much less the great white body of a trumpeter
swan. Astern of the canoe, on the other hand,
all was pitchy darkness, and any one looking
at the vessel from a position ahead could have
seen nothing but the bright torch and the black
uniform surface behind it. As I have already
stated, the convex side of the bark was towards
the blaze, and the pan containing the torch
being placed close in to the screen, none of
the lighi; could possibly fall upon the forms of
those within the canoe. They were therefore in-
visible to any creature from the front, while they
themselves could see everything before them.

A SWAN-HUNT BY TORCHLIGHT.

Two questions yet remained unanswered. First,
— ^would our hunters find any swans on the river ?
Second, — if they should, would these birds allow
themselves to be approached near enough to be
shot at ? The first question Norman, of course,
could not answer. That was a matter beyond his
knowledge or control. The swans might or might
not appear, but it was to be hoped they would.
It was likely enough. Many had been seen on
the preceding day, and why not then ? To the
second question, the young Canadian gave a defi-
nite reply. He assured his cousins that, if met
with, the birds would be easily approached in this
manner ; he had often hunted them so. They
would either keep their place, and remain until the
light came very near them, or they would move to-
wards it (as he had many times known them to do),
attracted by curiosity and the novelty of the spec-
tacle. He had hunted deer in the same manner ;
he had shot, he said, hundreds of these animals upon
the banks of rivers, where thev had come down to
the water to drink, and stood gazing at the light.

His cousins could well credit his statements
They themselves had hunted deer by torchlight in tht
woods of Louisiana, where k i« tenoed " fire-hunt-

A SWAN-HUNT BY TORCHLIGHT.

ii •

ing." They had killed several in this way. The
creatures, as if held by some fascination, would
stand with head erect looking at the torch car-
ried by one of the party, while the other took
sight between their glancing eyes and fired the
deadly bullet. Remembering this, they could easily
believe that the swans might act in a similar
manner.

It was not long until they were convinced of
it by actual experience. As the canoe rounded
a bend in the river, three large white objects
appeared in the " reach" before them. A single
glance satisfied all that they were awans, though,
in the deceptive glare of the torch, they appeared
even ]a5g\?r than swans. Their long upright
necks, however, convinced the party they could be
nothing else, and the canoe was headed directly
for them.

As our hunters approached, one of the birds was
heard to utter his strange trumpet note, and this
he repeated at intervals as they drew nearer.

"I have heard that they sing before death,"
muttered Francois to Basil, who sat nearest him.
" If so, I hope that's the song itself ;" and Fran9oi3
laughed quietly at the joke he had perpetrated.

A SWAN-HUNT BY TORCHLIGHT.

Basil also laughed ; and Lucien, who had over-
heard the remark, could not restrain himself from
joining in the laughter.

" I fear not," rejoined Basil ; " there is hardly-
enough music in the note to call it a song. They
may live to 'blow their own trumpet' a long while
yet."

This remark called forth a fresh chorus of
laughter, in which all took part ; but it was a very-
silent kind of laughter, that could not have been
heard ten yards off : it might have been termed
"laughing in a whisper."

It soon ended, however, as matters now became
serious : they were already within less than two
hundred yards of the game, and the greatest caution
had to be observed. The gunners had arranged the
order of fire : Basil was to shoot first, taking steady
aim with his rifle at aiiy one of the birds ; vrhile
Francois should fire as soon as he heard the report
of his brother's gun, taking the remaining swans
upon the wing, with one or both barrels, as he best
might.

At length Basil deemed himself near enough, and,
levelling his piece, fired. The bird threw out its
wings, and flattened down upon the water, almost

»»■

/ '

/' •■

A SWAN-HUNT BY TORCHLIGHT.

ill ■ "^

l^'

ii'i-

without a struggle. The other two were rising into
the air, when "crack ! crack !" went the two barrels
of Fran9oi8' piece, and one of the swans f .'11 back
with a broken wing, and fluttered over the surface
of the stream. Basil's had been shot dead, and was
taken up easily ; but the wounded bird was only
captured after a long chase with the canoe ; and
when overtaken, it struck so fiercely with its re-
maining wing, that one of the blows iiiflicted a
painful wound on the wrist of Fran9ois. Both,
however, were at length got safely aboard, and
proved to be a male and female of the largest
dimensions.

i , I

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mmmm

-•; V' r

" CAST AWAT."

CHAPTER VI.

" CAST AWAY."

Op course, the reports of the guns must have
frightened any other swans that were near. It
was not likely they would find any more before
going some distance farther down the river ; so,
having stowed away in a safe place the two already
killed, the hunters paddled rapidly onward.

They had hardly gone half a mile farther, when
another flock of swans was discovered. These were
approached in a similar way, and no less than three
were obtained — Fran9ois making a remarkable shot,
and killing with both barrels. A little farther
down, one of the "hoopers" was killed; and still
farther on, another trumpeter ; making in all no
less than seven swans that lay dead in the bottom
of the canoe !

These seven great birds almost filled the little

-,i

" CAST AWAY."

craft to the gunwales, and you would think that
our " torch-hunters" ought to have been content
with such a spoil ; but the hunter is hard to satisfy
with game, and but too often inclined to "spill
much more blood" than is necessary to his wants.
Our voyageurs, instead of desisting, again set the
canoe in motion, and continued the hunt.

A short distance below the place where they had
shot the last swan, as they were rounding a bend
in the river, a loud rushing sounded in their
oars, similar to that produced by a cascade or
waterfall. On first hearing it, they were startled
and somewhat alarmed. It might be a "fall,"
thought they. Norman could not tell : he had never
travelled this route ; he did not know whether there
were falls in the Red River or not, but he believed
not. In his voyage to the South, he had travelled
by another route ; that was, up the Winnipeg
River, and through Rainy Lake and the Lake of
the Woods to Lake Superior. This is the usual
and well-known track followed by the employes of
the Hudson's Bay Company ; and Norman had
travelled it.

In this uncertainty the canoe was brought to a
stop, and our voyageurs remained listening. The

" CAST AWAY."

noise made by the water was not very distant, and
sounded like the roaring of " rapids," or the rush
of a " fall." It was evidently one or the other ;
but, after listening to it for a considerable time,
all came to the conclusion that the sound did not
proceed from the Red River itself, but from some
stream that emptied into it upon the right. With
this belief they again put the canoe in motion, and
glided slowly and cautiously onward.

Their conjecture proved to be correct. As they
approached nearer, they perceived that the noise
appeared every moment more and more to their
right; and presently they saw, below them, a
rapid current sweeping into the Red River from the
right bank. This was easily distinguished by
the white froth, and bubbles that were carried
along upon its surface, and which had evidently
been produced by some fall over which the water had
lately passed. The hunters now rowed fearlessly
forward, and in a few moments came opposite the
debouchure of the tributary stream, when a con-
siderable cascade appeared to their view, not thirty
yards from the Red River itself. The water foamed
and dashed over a series of steps, and then swept

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" CAST AWAY.**

rapidly on, in a frothy current. They had entered
this current, and were now carried along with in-
creased velocity, so that the oarsmeri suspended
operations, and drew their paddles within the
canoe.

A flock of swano now drew their attention. It
was the largest flock they had yet seen, num-
bering nearly a score of these noble birds, — a sight,
as Norman informed them, that was exceedingly rare
even in the most favoured haunts of the swan.
Rarely are more than six or seven seen together,
and oftener only two or three. A grand coup was
determined upon. Norman took up his own gun,
and even Lucien, ,vho managed the stem oar, and
guided the craft, also brought his piece — a very
small rifle — close to his hand, so that he might have
a shot as well as the others.

The canoe was directed in such a manner that,
by merely keeping its head down the stream, it
would float to the spot where the swans were.

In a short while they approached very near the
great birds, and our hunters could see them sitting
on the water, with upraised necks, gazing in won-
der at the torch. Whether they sounded their

r- I

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CAST AWAY.

>»

entered
with in-
ispended
hin the

ion. It
I, num-
-a sight,
igly rare
e swan,
ogether,
lup was
vn gun,
>ar, and
a very
ht have

Jr that,
earn, it
rere.
jar the
sitting
1 won-
their

strange note was not known, for the "sough" of
the waterfall still echoed in the ears of the canoe-
men, and they could not hear aught else.

Basil and Norman fired first, and simultaneously ;
but the louder detonations of Fran9ois* double-
barrel, and even the tiny crack of Lucien's rifle,
were heard almost the instant after. Three of the
birds were killed by the volley, while a fourth,
evidently "winged," was seen to dive, and flutter
down-stream. The others mounted into the air,
and disappeared in the darkness.

During the time occupied in this manoeuvre, the
canoe, no longer guided by Lucien's oar, had been
caught by some eddy in the current, and swept
round stern-foremost. In this position the light no
longer shone upon the river a-head, but was thrown
up-stream. All in a downward direction was buried
in deep darkness. Before the voyageurs could bring
the canoe back to its proper direction, a new sound
fell upon their ears that caused some of them to
utter a cry of terror. It was the noise of rushing
water, but not that which they had already heard
and passed. It was before them in the river itself.
Perhaps it was a cataract, and they were sweeping
rapidly to its brink!

^mmmmm

■-.}

" CAST AWAY.**

(

The voice of Norman was heard exclaiming,
" Hold wHh your oars ! — the rapids ! — the rapids !"
At the same time he himself was seen rising up
and stretching forward for an oar. All was now
consternation ; and the movements of the party
naturally consequent upon such a sudden panic
shook the little craft until her gunwales lipped the
water. At the same time she had swung round,
until the light again showed the stream a-head, and
a horrid sight it was. Far as the eye could see was
a reabh of foaming rapids. Dark points of rocks,
and huge black boulders, thickly scattered in the
channel, jutted above the surface ; and around and
against these, the water frothed and hissed furi-
ously. There was no cataract, it is true — there is
none such in Red River — but for all purposes of
destruction the rapids before them were equally
dangerous and terrible to the eyes of our voya-
geurs. They no longer thought of the swans. The
dead were permitted to float down unheeded, the
wounded to make its escape. Their only thought
was to stop the canoe before it should be carried
upon the rapids.

With this intent all had taken to the oars, but
in spite of every exertion they soon found that the

" CAST AWAY."

light craft had got within the influence of the
strong current, and was sucked downward more
rapidly than ever. Their backward strokes were
to no purpose.

In a few seconds the canoe had passed over the
first stage of the rapids, and shot down with the
velocity '»f an arrow. A huge boulder lay directly
in the middle of the channel, and against this the
current broke with fury, laving its sides in foaming
masses. The canoe was hurried to this point;
and as the light was again turned up-stream,
none of the voyageurs could see this dangerous
rock. But they could not have shunned it then.
The boat had escaped from their control, and spun
round at will. The rock once more came under the
light, but just as the canoe, with a heavy crash,
was driven against it.

For some moments the vessel, pressed by the
current against the rock, remained motionless, but
her sides were stove in, and the water was rushing
through. The quick eye of Basil — cool in all crises
of extreme danger — perceived this at a glance.
He saw that the canoe was a wreck, and nothing
remained but to save themselves as they best
might. Dropping the oar, and seizing his rifle, he

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" CAST AWAY.**

. caUed to his companions to leap to the rock ; and
all together immediately sprang over the gunwale.
The dog Marengo followed after.

The canoe, thus lightened, heeled round into the
*r current, and swept on. The next moment she
struck another rock, and was carried over on her
beams. The water then rushed in — the white
bodies of the swans, with the robes, blankets,
and implements, rose on the wave; the blazing
knots were spilled from the pan, and fell with a
hissing sound ; and a few seconds after they were
extinguished, and all was darkness !

/ i

'ock; and
gunwale.

I into the
oaent she
r on her
le white
blankets,
blazing
with a
lejr were

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A BRIDGE OF BUCKSKIN.

CHAPTER VII.

A BRIDGE OP BUCKSKIN.

The canoe was lost, and all it had contained, or
nearly all. The voyagcurs had saved only their
guns, knives, and the powder-horns and pouches,
that had been attached to their persons. One other
thing had been saved — an axe which Basil had
flung upon the rock as he stepped out of the
sinking vessel. All the rest — robes, blankets, swans,
cooking utensils, bags of provisions, such as coffee,
flour, and dried meat — were lost — irrecoverably
lost. These had either drifted off* upon the sur-
face, or been carried under water and hidden
among the loose stones at the bottom. No matter
where, they were lost ; and our voyageurs now
stood on a small naked rock in the middle of
the stream, with nothing left but the clothes upon

.- ,»■

A BRIDGE OF BUCKSKIN.

-/ '

1 1

f I

their backs, and the arms in their hands. Such
was their condition.

There was something so sudden and awful in
the mishap that had befallen them, that for some
minutes they stood upon the spot where they
had settled without moving or addressing a word
to one another. They gazed after the canoe.
They knew that it was wrecked, although they
could see nothing either of it or its contents.
Thick darkness enveloped them, rendered more
intei^se from the sudden extinction of the torch-
light. They saw nothing but the foam flickering
along the river ; like the ghosts of the swans they
had killed, and they heard only the roaring of the
water, that sounded in their ears with a hoarse and
melancholy wail.

For a long time they stood impressed with the
lamentable condition into which the accident had
plunged them ; and a lamentable condition it was,
sure enough. They were on a small rock in the
midst of a rapid river. They were in the midst
of a great wilderness too, many long miles from a
settlement. The nearest could only be reached by
travelling through pathless forests, and over nu-
merous and deep rivers. Impassable swamps, and

/»

A BBIDOE OF BUCKSKIN.

j>-

is. Such

awful in
; for some
here they
ig a word
he canoe.
>ugh they

contents.
;red more
the torch-
flickering
wans they
ing of the
oarse and

with the
dent had
n it was,
k in the
le midst
s from a
ached by
)ver nu-
nps, and

lakes with marshy shores, lay on the route, and
barred the direct course, and all this journey would
have to be made on foot.

But none of our young voyageurs were of that
stamp to yield themselves to despair. One and all
of them had experienced perils before — greater
even than that in which they now stood. As soon,
therefore, as they became fully satisfied that their
little vessel was wrecked, and all its contents
scattered, instead of despairing, their first thoughts
were how to make the best of their situation.

For that night, at least, they were helpless.
They could not leave the rock. It was surrounded
by rapids. Sharp, jagged points peeped out of
the water, and between these the current rushed
with impetuosity. In the darkness no human
being could have crossed to either shore in safety.
To attempt it would have been madness, and our
voyageurs soon came to this conclusion. They
had no other choice than to remain where they
were until the morning; so, seating themselves
upon the rock, they prepared to pass the night.

They sat huddled close together. They could
not lie down — there was not room enough for that.
They kept awake most of the night, one or other

}*■

f '

•I

: I

A BRIDGE OF BUCKSKIN.

of thom, overcome by fatigue, occasionally nodding
over in a sort of half-sleep, but awaking again
after a few minutes' uncomfortable dreaming.
They talked but little, as the noise of the rushing
rapids rendered conversation painful. To be heard,
they were under the necessity of shouting to one
another, like passengers in an omnibus. It was
cold, too. None of them had been much wetted
in escaping from the canoe j but they had saved
neither overcoat, blanket, nor buffalo-robe : and,
although it was now late in the spring, the nights
near Lake Winnipeg, even at that stsason, are chilly.
They were above the latitude of 50*^ ; and although
in England, which is on that parallel, it is not very
cold of a spring night, it must be remembered that
the line of equal temperature — in the language of
meteorologists the " isothermal line" — is of a much
lower latitude in America than in Europe.

Another fact worth remembering is, that upon
the eastern or Atlantic coast of the American
Continent it is much colder in the same latitude
than on the western or Pacific side. The Pacific
"sea-board" in its climate is more like the western
edge of the old continent. This would seem to
indicate that the climate of a coast country is

wmsmmmmmm

A BRIDGE OP BUCKSKIN.

much influenced by the side upon which the ocean
lies, whether east or west. This in reality is the
case, for you may observe on your map that the
western coasts of both the "old world" and the
"new" are somewhat similarly placed in regard to
their oceans, and hence the similarity of their
climates.

There are many other causes connected with
this ; such as the direction of winds, and the dif-
ferent effects produced by them on the atmosphere
when they have passed over water or over land.
It was, and is still by many people believed, that
the winds are produced by the air becoming heated
in a particular place, and then ascending, and
leaving a "vacuum" into which the colder air
rushes from all sides around. TMs " rushing," it
was supposed, made the wind. To some extent this
theory is true, but there are several other causes that
operate in producing wind. Electricity — an agent
hitherto but little known, but one of the most im-
portant elements of our Earth — has much to do with
the winds ; and the revolution of the Earth on its
own axis has also an influence upon them. Indeed
it is to be wondered at, that mankind should have
so long remained satisfied with the very unsatis-

A BRroGE OP BUCKSKIN.

i I )

factory theory of the heated air. But it is not to
be wondered at either, when we consider how little
mankind has had to do with these things — when
we consider that as yet nearly every country upon
the face of the globe is despotic ; that the whole
time of the great body of the people is occupied
in a struggle for life— occupied in toiling for a few,
who by the most cunning devices rob them of the
fruits of their toils — rob them so skilfully that
the poor blinded masses have grown to consider
eternal toil as the natural state of man — nay
more, are ready to persecute him who would elevate
them, and worship him who would sink them
deeper in baseness and bondage ; — when we reflect
on this almost hopeless darkness of soul that has
marked the history of the past, and is too much the
character of the present, we need not wonder that so
few have had either leisure or inclination to yield
themselves to the acquirement or prosecution of
scientific knowledge. " The winds have blown
where they listed, and we have heard the sound
thereof," but men absorbed in the hard struggle of
life have found but little time to inquire " whence
they come or whither they go."

The people of the United States are yet but

i\ '

/•'

A BRIDGE OF BUCKSKIN.

it is not to
r how little
ngs — when
untry upon

the whole
s occupied
J for a few,
hem of the
Ifully that
o consider
nan — nay
aid elevate
?ink them
we reflect

that has
much the
er that so
n to yield
cution of
^e blown
le sound
ruggle of

whence

yet but

partially free. They still inherit, from customs
and prejudices, the fruits of an ancestral op-
pression, and a bondage of centuries of duration.
But even their partial freedom has already shown
its good effects. At this moment knowledge is
progressing faster among these people than any
other on the face of the earth. Meteorology begins
to assume the palpable shape of an exact science.
The winds are being traced in their currents,
and followed through all their windings, by Maury
and other men of talent ; and if you live twenty
years longer (and I hope you may live three times
as mpny years), you will no doubt be able to
tell " whence the wind cometh and whither it
goeth."

Well, we began this politico-scientific discussion
by observing that it was very cold in the latitude
of Lake Winnipeg, even in late spring. Only at
night though ; the days are sometimes so hot there
that you might fancy yourself in the tropics. These
extremes are characteristic of the climate of all
American countries, and particularly those that lie
at a distance from the sea-coast.

Our voyageurs were chilled to the very bones,
and of course glad to see the daylight glimmering

■.^> iifpj^wysifsf 5^?^ •

/• !

A. BRIDGE OF BUCKSKIN.

I—/

''i

I t

through the tops of the trees that grew upon the
banks of the river. As soon as day broke, they
began to consider how they would reach those
trees. Although swimming a river of that width
would have been to any of the four a mere baga-
telle, they saw that it was not to be so easy an affair.
Had they been upon cither bank, they could have
crossed to the other without difficulty — as they would
have chosen a place where the water was com-,
paratively still. On the rock they had no choice,
as the rapids extended on both sides above and
below it. Between the boulders the current rushed
so impetuously, that had they attempted to swim to
either bank, they would have been carried down-
ward, and perhaps dashed with violence against one
or other of the sharp stones.

As soon as it was light, they saw all this; not
without feelings of apprehension and uneasiness.
Their whole attention was now occupied with the
one object — how they should get to the bank of the
river.

The right bank was the more distant ; but the
passage in that direction ajipeared the easier one.
The current was not so swift, nor yet did it seem so
deep. They thought they might ford it, and Basil

At ;

mm^m

A BRIDGE OP BUCKSKIN.

upon the
)ke, they
ch those
lat width
re baga-
an affair,
aid have
py would
as com-.
) choice,
ove and
t rushed
swim to
1 down-
Inst one

s; not
isiness.
th the
of the

ut the
p one.
em so
Basil

made the attempt; but he soon got beyond his depth;
and was obliged, after being carried off his feet, to
swim up under the lee of the rock again.

From the rock to the right bank was about an
hundred yards' distance. Here and there, at irre-
gular intervals, sharp, jagged stones rose above the
surface, some of them projecting three feet or
more out of the water, and looking very much
like upright tombstones. Lucien had noticed
these, and expressed the opinion that if they only
had a rope, they might fling it ovor one of these
stones, and then, holding it fast at the other end,
might pass by that means from one to the other.

The suggestion was a good one, but where was
the rope to come from ? All their ropes, and cords
— lassoes and all — had been swept away in the
wreck. Not a string remained, except those that
fastened their horns, flasks, and other accoutre-
ments ; and these were only small thongs, and
would be of no use for such a purpose. It would
require a rope strong enough to carry the weight
of a man impelled by a rapid current — in fact, a
weight equal to that of several men. They all set
to thinking how this was to be obtained. Each
looked at the other, and scanned the straps and

r !

^•*%

A BKID6E OF BUCKSKIN.

' f.

1 i

thongs that were around their bodies. They we^
satisfied at a glance that these would not be suffi-
cient to make such a rope as was wanted. They
did not give up the hope of being able to obtain
one. They were all of them accustomed to resort
to strange expedients, and a sufficiently strange one
now suggested itself. Basil and Norman seemed
to have thought of it at the same time, for both at
once unbuckled their straps, and commenced pulling
off their buckskin hunting-shirts. The others said
nothing, as they knew well what they were going
to do T^ith them — they knew they intended cutting
them into strips, and then twisting a rope out of
them.

All foux set to work together. Lucien and
Francois held the shirts tpui, while Basil and
Norman handled the knives, and in a few minutes
the rock was covered with strips of buckskin about
two inches wide, by a yard or so in length. These
were next joined and plaited together in such a
manner that a rope was formed nearly forty feet
long. An eye was made at one end, and through
this the other end was reeved — so that a running
noose was obtained, in the same manner as the
Mexicans and Indians make their lassoes. The

,'■ t

.'(■/,

• »

A BBIDGB OF BUCKSKIN.

r-lt>-

rope was now ready for use, and Basil was the
very hand to use it ; for Basil knew how to fling a
lasso as well as either Mexican or Indian. He had
practised it often, and had lassoed many a long-
homed bull upon the prairies of Opelousas and the
Attakapas. To Basil, therefore, the rope was given.
He placed himself on the highest part of the
rock, having first coiled the new-made lasso, and
hung the coil lightly over his left arm. He
then took the noose-end in his right hand, and
commenced winding it around his head. His com-
panions had laid themselves flat, so as not to be
in the way of the noose as it circled about.
After a few tu*" «s the rope was launched forth,
and a loud " hur. jh ! " from Fran9ois announced
that the throw was successful. It was so in fact,
as the noose was seen settling smoothly over the
jutting-stone, taking full hold upon it. A pull
from Basil flxed it ; and in a few minutes it was
made quite fast, without the slightest danger of its
slipping off". The other end was then carried round
a projecting point of the rock on which they stood,
and knotted firmly, so that the rope was quite
taut, and stretched in a nearly horizontal direction,
about a foot above the surface of the water.

A BRIDGE OF BUCKSKIN.

The voyageurs now prepared to cross over.
Their guns, pouclies, and flasks were carefully
secured, so that the water could not damage them.
Then each took a piece of the buckskin thong, and
fastened it round his waist, leaving enough to form
a running loop. This loop was intended to embrace
the rope, and run along it, as they drew themselves
forward by their hands.

Basil passed over first. He was the oldest,
and, as he asserted, it was but right he should
run the risk in testing the new-fashioned bridge,
of which he was the architect. It worked ad-
mirably, and sustained the weight of his body,
with the whole force of the current acting upon
it. Of course he was swept far dowii, and
the rope was stretched to its full tension, but he
succeeded in handing himself along, until he was
able to touch the second rock, and clamber upon
it in safety. During the passage across he was
watched by his companions with emotions of no
ordinary character, but as soon as he had reached
the opposite end of the rope all three uttered a loud
and simultaneous cheer. Lucien passed over next,
and after him Francois. Notwithstanding his
danger, Francois laughed loudly all the time he

;>'

■■ i

A BRIDOE OP BUCKSKIN.

was in the water, while his brothers were not
without some fears for his safety. Marengo was
next attached to the rope, and pulled safely over, j

Norman was the last to cross upon the buck-
skin bridge, but, like the others, he landed in
safety ; and the four, with the dog, now stood
upon the little isolated boulder, where there was
just room enough to give them all a footing.

A difl&culty now presented itself, which they
had not hitherto thought of. Another reach of
rapid current was to be crossed, before they could
safely trust themselves to enter the water. This
they knew before, but they had also noticed that
there was another jutting rock, upon which they
might fling their rope. But the rope itself was
now the difficulty. It was fast at both ends, and
how were they to release it from the rock they had
left ? One of them could easily cross over again
and untie it, but how was he to get back to the
others ? Here was a dilemma which had not pre-
sented itself before, and they now saw themselves
no better off than ever. The rapid that remained
to be crossed, was as dangerous as the one they had
succeeded in passing. There was no hope that
they could swim it in safety. They would cer-

mmm

A BRIDGE OF BUCKSKIN.

• t

tainly be swept with violence against the rocKs
below. There was no chance, then, of their going
an inch farther — unless by some means similar to
that they had just used, and the rope was no longer
at their service.

, For some time they all stood silent, each con-
sidering the matter in his own way. How could
they free the rope ?

" It cannot be done," said one.

" Impossible," rejoined another. " We must
make a second rope. Fran9oi8*s shirt still remains,
and our leggings — we can use them."

This was the mode suggested by Francois and
Norman, and Lucien seemed to assent to it. They
had already commenced untying their leggings,
when Basil uttered the ejaculation —

"Stop!"

"Well, what is it, brother?" asked Lucien.

" I think I can free the rope at the other end.
At all events, let me try. It will not cost much^
either in time or trouble."

" How do you mean to do it, brother?"

" Sit close, all of you. Give me room — you
shall see presently."

As direeted by Basil, they all cowered closely

A BRIDGE OF BUCKSKIN.

down, 80 as to occupy as little space as possible.
Basil, having uncovered the lock of his rifle —
which had been carefully bound up in a piece of
deer's bladder — placed himself in a firm position,
and appeared as if about to fire. Such was his
intention — for in a few moments he was seen to
raise the gun to his shoulder, and take aim. None
of his companions uttered a word. They had
already guessed the object of this movement, and
sat silently awaiting the result.

On the rock which they had left, the rope still
bound fast passed around one of the angles, in
such a way that, from the point where Basil
stood, it offered a fair mark. It was at this Basil
was aiming. His object was to cut the thong with
his bullet. He could not do it with a single shot,
as the thong was broader than. the bullet, but he
had calculated that he might effect his purpose
with several. If he did not succeed in cutting
it clean through, the ball flattening upon the rock
would, perhaps, tear the rope in such a manner that,
by pulling by the other end, they might detach it.
Such were the calculations and hopes of Basil.

A moment more and the crack of his rifle was
heard. At the same instant the dust rose up from

mmm^^

^wr'wi^ppwvi'w'w'ipwwpiipipi^ii^iiiipi^^ II

A BRIDGE OF BUCKSKIN.

the point at which he had aimed, and several smt^U
fragments flew off into the water. Again was
heard Fran9oi8*s " hurrah," for Fran9ois, as well
as the others, had seen that the rope had been hit
at the right place, and now exhibited a mangled
appearance.

While Basil was reloading, Norman took aim and
fired. Norman was a good shot, though perhaps not
so good a one as Basil, for that was no easy matter, •
as there were few such marksmen to be found any-
where, ^ not even among the professional trappers
and hunters themselves. But Norman was a fair
shot, and this time hit his mark. The thong was
evidently better than half divided by the two;
bullets. Seeing this, Fran9ois took hold of the
other end, and gave it a strong jerk or two,
but it was still too much for him, and he ceased
pulling, and waited the effect of Basil's second
shot.

The latter had now reloaded, and, taking de-
liberate aim again, fired. The rope was still held
taut upon the rock, for part of it dragged in the
current, the force of which kept pressing it hard
downward. Scarcely was the report heard, when
the farther end of the thong flew from its fastening,

A BRIDGB OF BUCKSKIX.

r^s^

and, swept by the running water, was seen falling
into the lee of the boulder on which the party now
stood. A third time was heard the voice of
Francois uttering one of his customary " hurrahs."
The rope was now dragged up, and made ready for
further use. Basil again took hold of it ; and, after
coiling it as before, succeeded in throwing the
noose over the third rock, where it settled and held
fast. The other end was tied as before, and all
passed safely to the new station. Here, however,
their labour ended. They found that from this
point to the shore the river was shallow, and
fordable ; and, leaving the rope where it was, all
four took the water, and waded safely to the bank.

wtrmf^ii^um'mmwtrt^nr

"■ nil

■'"^WPP

DECOYING THE " G0AT8.**

^ , •

i" ';

'']

CHAPTER VIII.

DECOYING THE "GOATS."

For the present, then, our voyageurs had escaped.
They were safe upon the river's bank ; but when
we consider the circumstances in which they were
placed, we shall perceive that they were far from
being pleasant ones. They were in the midst of a
wilderness, without either horse or boat to carry
them out of it. They had lost everything but
their arms and their axe. The hunting-shirts of
some of them, as we have seen, were destroyed,
and they would now suffer from the severe cold
that even in summer, as we have said, often reigns
in these latitudes. Not a vessel was left them for
cooking with, and not a morsel of meat or anything
was left to be cooked. For their future subsistence
they would have to depend upon their guns, which,

* i

I I

DECOYING THE " GOATS.** '

with their ammunition, they had fortunately pre-
served.

After reaching the shore, their first thoughts
v/ere about procuring something to eat. They had
now been a long time without food, and all four
were hungry enough. As if by one impulse, all
cast theii" eyes around, and looked upward ivmong
the branches of the trees, to see if any animal could
be discovered that might serve them for a meal.
"Pird or quadruped, it mattered not, so that it was
, rge enough to give the four a breakfast. But
neither one nor the other was to be seen, although
the woods around had a promising appearance. The
trees were lar;^**, and as there was much under-
wood, consisting of berry -bushes and plants with
edible roots, our voyageurs did not doubt that there
would be found game in abundance. It was
agreed, then, that Lucien and Fran9ois should
remain on the spot and kindle a fire, while Basil
and Norman went off in search of something to be
cooked upon it.

In less than an hour the latter returned, carrying
an animal upon his shoulders, which both the boys
recognised as an old acquaintance, — the prong-
homed antelope {Antilppe furcifer), so called from

100

DECOYING THE " GOATS."

the single fork or prong upon its horns. Norman
called it " a goat," and stated that this was its
name among the fur-traders, while the Canadian
voyageurs give it the title of " cabree." Lucien,
however, knew the animal well. He knew it was
not of the goat kind, but a true antelope, and the
only animal of that genus found in North America.
Its habitat is the prairie country, and at the pre-
sent time it is not found farther east than the
prairies extend, nor farther norvh either, as it is
not a creature that can bear extreme cold. In
earl^ times, however — that is, nearly two centuries
ago — it must have ranged nearly to the Atlantic
shores, as Father Hennepin in his Travels speaks
of "goats" being killed in the neighbourhood of
Niagara, meaning no other than the prong-horned
antelopes. The true wild goat of America is a
very different animal, and is only found in the
remote regions of the Rocky Mountains.

What Norman had shot, then, was an antelope ;
and the reason why it is called "cabree" by the
voyageurs, and " goat" by the fur-traders, is partly
from its colour resembling that of the common
goat, but more from the fact, that along the upper
part of its neck there is a standing mane, which

r I

DECOYING THE " GOATS.**

101

• Norman
lis was its
3 Canadian
Lucien,
new it was
pe, and the
ti America.
It the pre-

than the
r, as it is
cold. In
) centuries
e Atlantic
^Is speaks
urhood of

g-horned
srica is a
d in the

antelope ;
" by the
is partly
common
le upper
3, which

does in truth give it som .rhat the appearance of
the Earopean goat. Another point of resemblance
lies in the fact, that the "prong-horns" emit the
same disagreeable odour, which is a well-known
characteristic of the goat species. This proceeds
from two small glandular openings that lie at the
angles of the jaws, and appear spots of a blackish
brown colour.

Both Lucien and Fran9ois had shot antelopes.
They had decoyed them within range in their
former expedition on the prairies, and had seen
wolves do the same. The Indians ui^ually hunt
them in this manner, by holding up some bright-
coloured flag, or other curious object, which rarely
fails to bring them within shot ; but Norman in-
formed his cousins that the Indians of the Hudson's
Bay Company care little about the antelope, and
rarely think it worth hunting. Its skin is of little
value to them, and they consider its flesh but in-
different eating. But the chief reason why they
take so little notice of it is, because it is found in
the same range with the buffalo, the moose, and
the elk ; and, as all these animals are more valuable
to the Indian hunter, he allows the antelope to
go unmolested, unless when he is hard pressed

r I

S 1 i

102

DECOYING THE " OOATS."

with hunger, and none of the others are tQ be
had.

While skinning the antelope for breakfast, Norman
amused his companions by relating how he had
killed it. He said that he had got near enough to
shoot it by practising a " dodge." After travelling
through the woods for some half-mile or so, he had
come out into a country of " openings," and saw that
there was a large prairie beyond. He saw that
the woods extended no farther than about a mile
from the banks of the river, and that the whole
country beyond was without timber, except in
scattered clumps. This is, in fact, true of the Red
River country, particularly of its western part, frc«n
which the great prairies stretch westward, even to
the "foot-hills" {piedmont) of the Rocky Mountains.
"Well, then, after arriving at the openings, Norman
espied a small herd of antelopes, about ten or a
dozen in all. He would rather they had been some-
thing else, as elk or deer ; for, like the Indians, he
did not much relish the " goat's " meat. He was
too hungry, ho\»'ever, to be nice, and so he set
about trying to get within shot of the herd. There
was no cover, and he knew he could not approach
near enough without using some stratagem. He

DECOYING THE " GOATS."

103

therefore laid himself flat upon his back, and raised
his heels as high as he could into the air. These
he kicked about in such a manner, as soon to
attract the attention of the antelopes, that, curious
to make out what it was, commenced running
round and round in circles, of which Norman
himself was the centre. The circles gradually
became smaller and smaller, until the hunter saw
that his game was within range ; when, slyly rolling
himself round on one shoulder, he took aim at a
buck, and fired. The buck fell, and the rest of the
herd bounded off like the wind. Norman feeling
hungry himself, and knowing that his companions
were suffering from the same cause, lost no time
in looking for other game; but shouldering the
" goat," carried it into camp.

By this time Lucien and Francois had a fire
kindled — a roaring fire of " pine -knots" — and both
were standing by it, smoking all over in their wet
leggings. They had got nearly dry when Norman
returned, and they proceeded to assist in butcher-
ing the antelope. The skin was whipped off in a
trice ; and the venison, cut into steaks and ribs, was
soon spitted and sputtering cheerily in the blaze of
the pine-knots. Everything looked pleasant and

iO-

104

DECOYING THE " GOATS."

promising, and it only wanted the presence of Basil
to make them all feel quite happy again. Basil, how-
ever, did not make his appearance; and as they were
aU as hungry as wolves, they could not wait for him,
but set upon the antelope-venison, and made each
of them a hearty meal from it.

As yet they had no apprehensions about Basil.
They supposed he had not met with any game, and
was still travelling about in search of it. Should
he succeed in killing any, he would bring it in;
and should he not, he would return in proper time
withckit it. It was still early in the day.

But several hours passed over, and he did not
come. It was an unusual length of time for him to
be absent, especially in strange woods of which he
knew nothing; moreover, he was in his shirt sleeves,
and the rest of his clothing had been dripping wet
when he set out. Under these circumstances would
he remain so long, unless something unpleasant had
happened to him?

This question the three began to ask one another.
They began to grow uneasy about their absent com-
panion; and as the hours passed on without his
appearing, their uneasiness increased to serious
alarm. They at length resolved to go in search of

DECOYIKG THE " GOATS."

105

him. They took different directions, so that there
would be a better chance of finding him. Norman
struck out into the woods, while Lucien and
Francois, followed hj the dog Marengo, kept down
the bank — thinking that if Basil had got lost, he
would make for the river to guide him, as night
approached. All were to return to the camp at
night-fall whether successful or not.

After several hours spent in traversing the
woods and openings, Norman came back. He had
been una? \e to find any traces of their missing
companion. The others had got back before him.
They heard his story with sorrowing hearts, for
neither had they fallen in with the track of living
creature. Basil was lost, beyond a doubt. He
would never have stayed so long, had not some
accident happened to him. Perhaps he was dead
— killed by some wild animal — a panther or a
bear. Perhaps he had met with Indians, who had
carried him off, or put him to death on the spot.
Such were the painful conjectures of his com-
panions.

It was now night. All three sat mournfully over
the fire, their looks and gestures betokening the
deep dejection they felt. Although in need of

106

DECOYING THE " GOATS."

repose, none of them attempted to go tj s^eep.
At intervals they discussed the probability of his
return, and then they would remain silent. Nothing
could be done that night. They could only await
the morning light, when they would renew their
search, and scour the country in every direction.

It was near midnight, and they were sitting
silently around the fire, when Marengo started
to his feet, and uttered three or four loud barl^s.
The echoes of these had hardly died among the
trees when a shrill whistle was heard at some
distahce oflf in the woods.

"Hurrah!" shouted Fran9ois, leaping to his
feet at the instant; "that's Basil's whistle, I'll
be bound. I'd know it a mile off. Hurrah!"

Fran9ois' "hurrah!" rang through the woods,
and the next moment came back a loud "Hilloa!"
which all recognised as the voice of Basil.

"Hilloa!" shouted the three by the fire.

"Hilloa, my boys! all right!" replied the voice;
and a few seconds after, the tall upright form of
Basil himself was seen advancing, under the glare
of l^e pine -knots. A shout of congratulation
w-' again raised; and all the party, preceded
by Marengo, rushed out to meet the new-comer.

DECOYING THE " GOATS."

107

^-u>

They soon returned, bringing Basil up to the
fire, when it was seen that he had not returned
empty-handed. In one hand he carried a bag
of grouse, or "prairie hens," while from the
muzzle of his shouldered rifle there hung some-
thing that was at once recognised as a brace of
buffalo tongues.

" Voild !^^ cried Basil, flinging down the bag,
"how are you off for supper? And here," con-
tinued he, pointing to the tongues, " here's a pair
of tit-bits that'll make you lick your lips. Come !
let us lose no time in the cooking, for I'm hungry
enough to eat either of them raw."

Basil's request was instantly complied with.
The fire was raked up, spits were speedily pro-
cured, a tongue and one of the grouse were
roasted ; and although Lucien, Francois, and Nor-
man, had already supped on the "goat's meat,"
they set to upon the new viands with fresh appe-
tites. Basil was hungrier than any, for he had
been all the while fasting. It was not because he
was without meat, but because he knew that his
comrades would be uneasy about him, and he
would not stop to cook it. Of meat he had enough,
since he had slain the two buffaloes to which the

'• I

« * *

\ t

/■ '

108

DECOTING THE " GOATS.

i»

tongues had belonged; and these same buffaloes,
he now informed them, had been the cause of his
long absence.

Of course, all were eager to know how the
buffaloes could have delayed him; and therefore,
while they were discussing their savoury supper,
Basil narrated the details of his day*s adven-
ture.

! '

\. ^1

?■-•'' f '

A. " TASTBIDQE DANCE."

CHAPTER IX.

A " PARTRIDGE DANCE."

■MP

109

^sp*

" After leaving here," said Basil, " I struck off
through the woods in a line that led from the
river, in a diagonal direction. I had n*t walked
more than three hundred yards, when I heard a
drumming sound, which I at first took to be
thunder ; but, after listening a while, I knew it was
not that, but the drumming of the ruffed grouse.
As soon as I could ascertain the direction of the
sound, I hurried on in that way; but for a long
time I appeared to get no nearer it, so greatly
does this sound deceive one. I should think I
walked a full mile before I arrived at the place
where the birds were, for there were many of
them. I then had a full view of them, as they
went through their singular performances.

" There were, in all, about a score. They had

.'.',

.•♦

■7

[{;■

A " FARTBIDQE DANCE."

selected a piece of open and level ground, , and
over this they were running in a circle, about
twenty feet in diameter. They did not all run in
the same direction, but met and crossed each other,
although they never deviated much from the cir-
cumference of the circle, around which the grass
was worn quite bare, and a ring upon the turf looked
baked and black. When I first got near, they
heard my foot among the leaves, and I saw that
one and all of them stopped running, and squatted
close down. I halted, and hid myself behind a
tree. 'After remaining quiet a minute or so, the birds
began to stretch up their necks, and then all rose
together to their feet, and commenced running
round the ring as before. I knew they were
performing what is called the 'Partridge Dance;'
and as I had never witnessed it I held back
awhile, and looked on. Even hungry as I was,
and as I knew all of you to be, so odd
were the movements of these creatures, that I
could not resist watching them a while, before I
sent my unwelcome messenger into their 'ball-
room.' Now and then an old cock would separate
from the pack, and running out to some distance,
would leap upon a rock that was there; then,

wr^^'i^^mfmmmfum

A " PARTRIDGE DANCE.**

Ill

after dropping his wings, flirting with his spread
tail, erecting the ruff upon his neck, and throwing
back his head, he would swell and strut upon
the rock, exhibiting himself like a diminutive
turkey-cock. After manoeuvring in this way for
a few moments, he would commence flapping his
wings in short quick strokes, which grew more
rapid as he proceeded, until a 'booming' sound
was produced, more like the rumble of distant
thunder than anything I can think of.

" This appeared to be a challenge to the others;
and then a second would come out, and, after
replying to it by putting himself through a similar
series of attitudes, the two would attack each other,
and fight with all the fury of a pair of game-cocks.

" I could have watched their manoeuvres much
longer," continued Basil, "but hunger got the
better of me, and I made ready to fire. Those
that were * dancing' moved so quickly round the
ring that I could not sight one of them. If I
had had a shot gun, I might have covered
several, but with the rifle I could not hope for
more than a single bird; so, wanting to make sure
of that, I waited until an old cock mounted the
rock, and got to * drumming.* Then I sighted

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112

A " PARTRIDGE DANCE.**

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him, and sent mj bullet through his crop^ I
heard the loud whirr of the pack as they rose
up from the ring ; and, marking them, I saw that
they all alighted only a couple of hundred yards
off, upon a large spruce-tree. Hoping they would
sit there until I could get another shot, I loaded
as quickly as possible, and stepped forward. The
course I took brought me past the one I had killed,
which I picked up, and thrust hastily into my bag.
Beyond this I had to pass over some logs that
lay along the ground, with level spaces between
them! What was my surprise in getting among
these, to see two of the cocks down upon the
grass, and fighting so desperately that they took
no notice of my approach ! At first I threw up
my rifle, intending to fire, but seeing that the
birds were within a few feet of me, I thought
they might let me lay hold of them, which they, in
fact, did; for the next moment I had * grabbed*
both of them, and cooled their bellicose spirit..* by
wringing their heads off.

" I now proceeded to the pack, that still kept the
tree. When near enough, I sheltered myself behind
another tree ; and taking aim at one, I brought him
tumbling to the ground. The others sat still. Of

A " PARTRIDGE DANCE."

113

course, I shot the one upon the lowest branch : I
knew that, so long as I did this, the others would
sit until I might get the whole of them ; but that if
I shot one of the upper ones, its fluttering down
through the branches would alarm the rest, and
cause them to fly off". I loaded and fired, and
loaded and fired, until half-a-dozen of the birds
lay around the root of the tree. I believe I
could have killed the whole pack, but it just
then occurred to me that I was wasting our pre-
cious ammunition, and that, considering the value
of powder and shot to us just now, the birds were
hardly worth a load a-picce ; so I left off" cracking
at them. As I stepped forward to gather what
I had killed, the rest whirred away into the
woods.

On reaching the tree where they had perched,
I was very much surprised to find a raw-hide
rope neatly coiled up, and hanging from one of
the lower branches. I knew that somebody must
have placed it there, and I looked round to see
what *sign' there was besides. My eye fell
upon the cinders of an old fire near the foot
of the tree; and I could tell that some Indians
had made their camp by it. It must have been

hmm^

;

ii:

114

A " PARTRIDGE DANCE."

a good while ago, as the ashes were beaten into
the ground by the rain, and, moreover, some
young plants were springing up through them. I
concluded, therefore, that whoever had camped
there had hung the rope upon the tree, and on
leaving the place had forgotten it. I took the rope
down to examine it : it was no other than a lasso,
full fifty feet long, with an iron ring neatly whipped
into the loop-end ; and, on trying it with a pull, I
saw it was in the best condition. Of course, I was
not likely to leave such a prize behind me. I had
grown, as you may all conceive, to have a very
great regard for a rope, considering that one had
just saved all our lives ; so I resolved on bringing
the lasso with me. In order to carry it the more
conveniently, I coiled it, and then hung the coil
across my shoulders like a belt. I next packed my
game into the bag, which they filled chock up
to the mouth, and was turning to come back to
camp, when my eye fell upon an object that caused
me suddenly to change my intention.

" I was near the edge of the woods, and through
the trunks I could see a large open space beyond,
where there were no trees, or only one here and
there. In the middle of this opening there was a

)n into
, some
lem. I
camped
and on
;he rope
a lasso,
ivhipped
I pull, I
e, I was
, rhad
1 a very
I one had
aringing
he more
the coil
eked my
ock up
back to
t caused

through
beyond,
tere and
was a

A " PARTRIDGE DANCE."

115

cloud of dust, and in the thick of it I could see two
great dark animals in motion. They were runiiing
about, and now and then coming together with a
sudden rush ; and every time they did so, I could
hear a loud thump, like the stroke of a sledge-
hammet. The sun was shining upon the yellow
dust-cloud, and the animals appeared from this cir-
cumstance to be of immense size — much larger than ■
they really were. Had I not known what kind of
creatures were before me, I should liave believed
that the mammoths Avere still in existence. But I
knew well what they were : I had seen many
before, carrying on just such a game. I knew they
were buffalo bulls, ei gaged in one of their terrible
battles."

Here Basil's narrative was interrupted by a sin-
gular incident. Indeed, it had been interrupted
more than once by strange noises that were heard
at some distance off in the woods. These noises
were not all alike : at one time they resembled the
barking of a cur dog ; at another, they might have
been mistaken for the gurglings of a person who
was being hanged ; and then would follow a shriek
so dreadful that for some time the woods would
echo with its dismal sound! After the shriek a

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116

A " PARTRIDGE DANCE."

IJj

;&.

laugh \vould be heard, but a miserable " haw-haw-
haw !" unlike the laugh of a sane person.

All tiic?e strange voices were calculated to in-
spire terror, and so have they many a time, with
travellers not accustomed to the solitary woods
of America. But our young voyageurs were not
at all alarmed by them. They knew from what
sort of a creature they proceeded ; they knew they
were the varying notes of the great horned-owl
( Strix Virginiafia) ; and as they had seen and
heatd many a one before, they paid no heed to this
individual.

While Basil was going on with his relation, the
bird had been several times seen to glide past, and
circle around upon his noiseless pinions. So easy
was his flight, that the slightest inclining of his
spread tail, or the bending of his broad wing,
se'n d sr. f cient to turn and carry liim in any
dIrecLi' • . Nothing could be more graceful than
his flight, which was not unlike that of the eagle,
while he was but little inferior in size to one of
these noble birds.

What interrupted Basil was, that the owl had
alighted upon a branch not twenty feet from where
they were all sitting round the fire, by the blaze

A " PARTRIDGE DANCE."

117

w-liaw-

l to in-
le, with
woods
rere not
m what
ew they
rned-owl
iecn and
a to this

.tion, the

past, and

So easy

rr of his

d wing,
in any
ful than
le eagle,
10 one of

owl had
|m where

blaze

of which they now had a full view of this singular
creature. The moment it alighted, it commenced
uttering its hideous and unmusical cries, at the same
time going through such a variety of contortions,
botii with its head and body, as to cause the whole
party a, fit of laughter. It was, in fact, an odd and
interesting ^ight to witness its grotesque move-
ments, s', vned first its body, and then its head
around, wthout moving the shoulders, while its
great honey-coloured eyes glared in the light ot tbe
fire. At the end of every attitude and utterance,
it would snap its bill with such violence, that the
cracking of the mandibles upon each other might
have been heard to the distance of several hundred
yards.

This was too ravh ]• fo^ Francois' patience to bear,
and he immedial u - . i\;|). to his gun. He had got
hold of the piece, ais ' .ocked it ; but, just as he was
about to ta,ke aim, the owl dropped silently down
from the branch, and, gliding gently forward, thrust
out its feathered leg, and lifted one of the grouse
in its talons. The latter had been lying upon the top
of a falhn tree i. r six feet from the fire ! The owl,
after c; .thing j > , ; cse ;nto the air ; and the next
moment would have been lost in darkness, but the

tMMmsmmmmm

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118

A " PARTRroGE DANCE."

(

crack of Fran9ois' rifle put a sudden stop td itn
flight, and with the grouse still clinging to its
claws it fell fluttering to the earth. Marengo
jumped forward to seize it ; but Marengo little
knew the sort of creature he had to deal with.
It happened to be only " winged," and as soon as
the dog came near, it thres '"^T upon its back,
and struck at him with its talons o. \ ickedly, that he
was fain to approach it with more caution. It cost
Marengo a considerable fight before he succeeded
in getting his jaws over it. During the contest it
continually snapped its bill, while its great goggle
eyes kept alternately and quickly opening and
closing, and the feathers being erected all over its
body, gave it the appearance of being twice its real
size. Marengo at length succeeded in " crunching"
it — although not until he was well scratched about
the snout — and its useless carcass having been
thrown upon the ground, the dog continued to
worry and chew at it, while Basil went on with
his narration.

BASIL AND THE BISON-BULL.

119

CHAPTER X.

BASIL AND THE BISON-BULL.

" As soon as I saw the buffaloes," continued Basil,
" my first thought was to get near, and have a shot at
them. They were worth a charge of powder and
lead, and I reflected that if I could kill but one of
them, it would ensure us against hunger for a couple
of weeks to come. So I hung my game-bag to the
branch of a tree, and set about approaching them.
I saw that the wind was in my favour, and there
was no danger of their scenting me. But there was
no cover near them — the ground was as level as
a table, and there was not a score of trees upon as
many acres. It was no use crawling up, and I did
not attempt it, but walked straight forward, treading
lightly as I went. In five minutes, I found my-
self within good shooting range. Neither of the
bulls had noticed me. They wero too busy with

wm—m

120

BASIL AND THE BISON-BULL*

one another, and in all my life I never saw two
creatures fighting in such earnest. They were
foaming at the mouth, and the steam poured out of
their nostrils incessantly. At times, they would
back from each other like a pair of rams, and then
rush together head-foremost, until their skulls
cracked with the terrible collision. One would
have fancied that they would break them at every
fresh encounter, but I knew the thickness of a buf-
falo's skull before that time. I remember having
fired (a musket at one that stood fronting me not
more than six feet distant, when, to my surprise, the
bullet flattened and fell to the ground before the
nose of the buffalo ! The creature was not less
astonished than myself, as up to that time it had
lAOt seen me.

" Well," continued Basil after a pause, " I did
not stop long to watch the battle of the bison-bulls.
I was not curious about that. I had seen such
many a time. I was thinking about the meat ; and
I paused just long enough to select the one that
appeared to have the most fat upon his flanks, when
I drew up my rifle and fired. I aimed for the
heart, and my aim was a true one, for the
animal came to its knees along with the crack.

BASIL AND THE BISON-BULL.

121

Just at that moment the other was charging upon it,
and, to my surprise, it continued to run on, until
striking the wounded one full butt upon the fore-
head, it knocked the latter right over upon its side ;
where, after giving half-a-dozen kicks, it lay quite
dead.

" The remaining bull had dashed some paces
beyond tlie spot, and now turned round again to
renew his attack. On seeing his antagonist stretched
out and motionless, he seemed to be as much asto-
nished as I was. At first, no doubt, he fancied
himself the author of a grand coup, for it was plain
that up to this time he had neither noticed my pre-
sence, nor the report of the rifle. The bellowing
noise that both were making had drowned the
latter; and the dust, together with the long shaggy
tufts that hung over his eyes, had prevented him
from seeing anything more than his rival, with
whom he was engaged. Now that the other was
no longer able to stand before him, and thinking it
was himself that had done the deed, he tossed
up his head and snorted in triumph. At this mo-
ment, the matted hair was thrown back from his
eyes, and the dust having somewhat settled away,
he sighted me, where I stood reloading my gun. I

r 1

122

BASIL AND THE BISON-BULL.

*,!

fancied he would take off before I could finish, and
I made all the haste in my power — so much so that
I dropped the box of caps at my feet. I had taken
one out, however, and hurriedly adjusted it, think-
ing to myself, as I did so, that the box might lie
where it was until I had finished the job. I brought
the piece to my shoulder, when, to my surprise, the
bull, instead of running away, as I had expected,
set his head, and uttering one of his terrible bel-
lows, came rushing towards me. I fired, but the
shot was a random one, and though it hit him in
the snout, it did not in the least disable him. In-
stead of keeping him off, it only seemed to irritate
him the more, and his fury was now at its height.

" I had no time to load again. He was within
a few feet of me when I fired, and it was with
difficulty that, by leaping to one side, I avoided his
horns ; but I did so, and he passed me with such
violence that I felt the ground shake under his
heavy tread.

"He wheeled immediately, and made at me a
second time. I knew that if he once touched
me I was gone. His horns were set, and his eyes
glared with a terrible earnestness. I rushed to-
wards the body of the buffalo that lay near, hoping

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> y

d fiirish, and
nuch so that
I had taken
ed it, think-
K might lie
I brought
urprise, the
d expected,
errible bel-
ed, but the
hit him in
' him. In-
\ to irritate
ts height,
i^as within
was with
avoided his
with such
under his

at me a
5 touched

his eyes
ushed to-
ir, hoping

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: i'i

BASIL AND THK BISON BVLL — TagC 123.

BASIL AND THE BISON-BULL.

123

that this might assist me in avoiding the onset. It
did so, for, as he dashed forward over it, ho became
entangled among the limbs, and again charged
without striking me. He turned, however, as quick
as thought, and again rushed bellowing upon me.
There was a tree near at hand. I had noticed it
before, but I could not tell whether I should have
time to reach it. I was now somewhat nearer it,
and, feaiing that I might not be able to dodge the
furious brute any longer upon the ground, I struck
out for the tree. You may be sure I did my
best at running. I heard the bull coming after,
but before he could overtake me, I had got to the
root of the tree. It was my intention, at first, only
to take shelter behind the trunk ; but when I had
got there, I noticed that there were some low
branches, and catching one of these I swung myself
up among them.

" The bull passed under me with a rush — almost
touching my feet as I hung by the branch — ^but I
was soon safely lodged in a fork, and out of his
reach.

" My next thought was to load my gun, and fire
at him from my perch, and, with this intention, I
commenced loading. I had no fear but that he

124

BASIL AN') THE BISON-BULL.

t I

would give mo an opportunity, for he kept round
the tree, and at times attacked the trunk, butting
and goring it with his horns, and all the while
bellowing furiously. The tree was a small one,
and it shook so, that I began to fear it might
break down. I therefore made all the haste I
could to get in the load, expecting soon to put
an end to his attacks. I succeeded at length
in ramming down the bullet, and was just turn-
ing the gun to put on a cap, when I recollected
that i^e cap-box was still lying on the ground
where it had fallen ! The sudden attack of the
animal had prevented me from taking it up. My
caps were all within that box, and my gun, loaded
though it was, was as useless in my hands as a bar
of iron. To get at the caps would be quite im-
possible. I dared not descend from the tree. The
infuriated bull still kept pacing under it, now going
round and round, and occasionally stopping for a
moment and looking angrily up.

" My situation was anything but a pleasant one.
I began to fear that I might not be permitted to
escape at all. The bull seemed to be most perti-
nacious in his vengeance. I could have shot him
in the back, or the neck, or where I liked, if I had

, ■ {

' ».

BASIL AND THE BISON-BULL.

125

only had ono cap. Ho was within three feet of the
muzzle of my rifle ; but what of that when I could
not get the gun to go off? After a while I thought of
making some tinder paper, and then trying to ' touch
off* the piece with it, but a far better plan at that
moment came into my head. While I was fumbling
about my bullet-pouch to get at my flint and steel, of
course my fingers came into contact with the lasso
which was still hanging around my shoulders. It
was this that suggested my plan, which was no
Ot^ than to lasso the bull, and tie him to the

" I lost no time in carrying it into execution.
I uncoiled the rope, and first made one end fast to
the trunk. The other was the loop-end, and reeving
it through the ring, I held it in my right hand
while I leaned over and watched my opportunity.
It was not long before a good one oflferod. The
bull still continued his angry demonstrations below,
and passed round and round. It was no new
thing for me to fling a lasso, and at the first pitch
I had the satisfaction of seeing thg noose pass over
the bison's head, and settle in a proper position
behind his horns. I then gave it a twitch, so as to
tighten it, and after that I ran the rope over a

^mmm

■■pw"wipn*in9i^pwnpiiiP7<r

126

BASIL AND THE BISON-BULL.

'*r ■ I

[| 1

branch, and thus getting * a purchase' upon it, I
pulled it with all my might.

"As soon as the buU felt the strange cravat
around his neck, he began to plunge and "rout"
with violence, and at length ran furiously out
from the tree. But he soon came to the end of
his tether ; and the quick jerk, which caused the
tree itself to crack, brought him to his haunches,
while the noose tightening on his tLroat was fast
strangling him. But for the thick matted hair it
WOUI4 have done so, but this saved him, and he
continued to sprawl and struggle at the end of
the rope. The tree kept on cracking, and as I
bc™r.i ^'^ fear that it might give way and pre-
cipitate me to the ground, I thought it better to
slip down. I ran direct to where I had dropped the
caps ; and, having got hold of the box, I soon had
one upon my gun. I then stole cautiously back,
and while the bison was hanging himself as fast a";
he could, I brought his struggles to a period by
sending a bullet through his ribs.

"As it was quite night when I had finished th(
business, of course I could not stay to butcher the
bulls. I knew that you would be wondering what
kept me, so I cut out the tongues, and coming

.vl.

BASIL AND THE BISON-BULL.

127

by the place where I had left the grouse, brought
them along. I left a ' scare- wolf * over bota the
bulls, however, and I guess we'll find them all right
in the morning."

Basil having finished the narration of his day's
adventures, fresh fuel was heaped on the embers, and
a huge fire was built — one that would last until
morning, This was necessary, as none of them
had now either blankets or bedding Basil himself
and Norman were even in their shirt-sleeves, and
of course their only chance for keeping warmth in
their bodies would be to keep up u, roaring fire all
the night. This they did, and all four laying
theiiiSelves close together, slept soundly enough.

ast a".

^fmmfmm^m^

nm^mmm^tmmmm'^'fmm

128

THREE CURIOUS TREES.

) .

■ '

: i

CHAPTER XI.

THREE CURIOUS TREES.

Next morning they were awake at an early hour.
Thene was still enough of the tongues and grouse
left, along with some ribs of the antelope, to break-
fast the party ; and then all four set out to bring
the flesh of Basil's buffaloes into camp. This they
accomplished, after making several journeys. It
was their intention to dry the meat over the fire, so
that it might keep for future use. For this pur-
po^o the flesh was removed from the bones, and
after being cut into thin slices and strips, was hung
up on poles at some distance from the bLze.
Nothinc: more could be done, but wait until it
became sufficiently parched by the heat.

While this process was going on our voyageurs
collected around the fire, and entered into a con-
sultation about' what was best to be done. At

THREE CURIOUS TREES.

129

ly hour.
I grouse
break-
^o bring
|his they
3ys. It
> lire, so
[lis pur-
ees, and
IS hung
bluze.
luntil it

rageurs
a con-

ke.

first they thought of going back to the Red River
settlement, and obtaining another canoe, as well
as a fresh stock of provisions and implements.
But they all believed that getting back would be
a toilsome and difficult matter. There was a large
lake and several extensive marshes on the route,
and these would have to be got round, making
the journey a very long o^^iC indeed. It would take
them days to perform it on foot, and nothing is
more discouraging on a journey than to be forced
by some accident to what is called " taking the
back-track." All of them acknowledged this, but
what else could they do ? It is true there was a post
of the Hudson's Bay Company at the northern end
of Lake Winnipeg. This post was called Norway
House. How Avere they to reach that afoot ? To
walk around the borders of the lake would be a
distance of more than four hundred miles. There
would be numerous rivers to cross, as well as
swamps and pathless forests to be threaded. Such
a journey would occupy a month or more, and at
Norway House they would still be as it were only
at the beginning of the great journey on which
they had set out. Moreover, Norway House lay
entirely out of their way. Cumberland House —

Li M li* > I

L^"..'iiWj^r.'.':iViiii"?B

■\

i^.

130

THKEE CURIOUS TREES.

another trading-post upon the River Saskatchewah —
was the next point where they had intsnded to
rest themselves, after leaving the Red River set-
lements. To reach Cumberland House afoot would
be equally difficult, as it, too, lay at the distance of
hundreds of miles, with lakes, and rivers, and
marshes, intervening. What, thcii, could they do ?

" Let us not go back," cried Francois, ever ready
Avith a bold advice ; " let us make a boat, and keep
on, say I."

" Ha ! Fran9ois," rejoined Basil, " it's easy to
say ' make a boat ;' how is that to be done, I pray ?"

" Why, what's to hinder us to hew a log, and
make a dug-out ? We have still got the axe, and
two hatchets left."

Norman asked what Fran9ois meant by a dug-
out. The phrase was new to him.

" A canoe," replied Fran9ois, " hollowed out of
a tree. They are sometimes called * dug-outs' on
the Mississippi, especially when they are roughly
made. One of them, I think, would carry all four
of us vvell enough. Don't you think so. Luce ? "

" Why, yes," answered the student ; " a large
one might : but I fear there are no trees about
here of sufficient size. We are not among the great

wfA.m

THBEE CUKIOUS TREES.

131

wah —
led to
Br set-
would
ance of
rs, and
Ley do ?
r ready-
ad keep

pray
og, a
ixe, and

log, and

a dug-
out of
louts' on
roughly
all four

Ice?"
a large
»s about
Ihe great

timber of the Mississippi bottom, you must re-
member."

" Ho ' large a tree would it require ?" asked
Norman, who knew but little of this kind of
craft.

" Three feet in diameter, at least," replied
Lucien ; " and it should be of that thickness for
a length of nearly twenty feet. A less one would
not carry four of us."

" Then I am sure enough," responded Norman,
" that we won't find such timber here. I have
seen no tree of that size either yesterday, or while
we v/ere out this morning."

" Nor I," added Basil.

" I don't believe there's one," said Lucien.

" If we were in Louisiana," rejoined Fran9oi8,
" I could find fifty canoe-trees by walking as many
yards. Why, I never saw such insignificant timber
as this here."

" You'll see smaller timber than this, Cousin
Frank, before we reach the end of our voyage."

This remark was made by Norman, who knew
that, as they proceeded northward, the trees would
be found decreasing in size until they w«)uld appear
like garden shrubbery.

/ ' ,

8 I

'^1.

132

THREE CURIOUS TREES.

' " But come," continued he, "if we can't build a
craft to carry us from one tree, perhaps we can do
it out of three."

" With three ! " echoed Fran9ois. " I should
like to see a canoe made from three trees ! Is it a
raft you mean. Cousin Norman ?"

" No," responded the other ; " a canoe, and one
that will serve us for the rest of our voyage."

All three — Basil, Lucien, and Fran9ois — looked
to their cousin for an explanation.

"'You would rather not go back up the river ?"
he inquired, glancing from one to the other.

" We wish to go on — all of us," answered Basil,
speaking for his brothers as well.

" Very well," assented the young fur-trader ;
" I think it is better as you wish it. Out of
these trees I can build a boat that will ,carry us.
It will t{*-ke us some days to do it, and some
timo to find the timber, but I am tolerably cer-
tain it is to be found in these woods. To do
the job properly I want three kinds ; two of them
I can see from where I sit ; the third I expect will
be got in the hills we saw this morning,"

As Normp.n spoke he pointed to two trees that
grew among many others not far from the spot.

THREE CURIOUS TREES.

133

yage.

—looked

river ?"

her.

\ \

ed Basil,

•-trader ;

Out of

carry us.

nd some

bly cer-

To do

■^•:

of them

i. ;

These trees were of very different kinds, as was
easily told by their leaves and bark. The nearer
and more conspicuous of them at once excited
the curiosity of the three Southerners. Lucien
recognised it from its botanical description. Even
Basil and Fran9ois, though they had never seen it,
as it is not to be found in the hot clime of
Louisiana, knew it from the accounts given of it
by travellers. The tree was the celebrated " canoe-
birch," or, as Lucien named it, "paper-birch"
{Betula papyracea\ celebrated as the tree out of
whose bark those beautiful canoes are made that
carry thousands of Indians over the interior lakes
and rivers of North America ; o it of whose bark
whole tribes of these people fashion their bowls,
their pails, and their baskets ; with which they
cover their tents, and from which they even make
their soup-kettles and boiling-pots ! This, then,
was the canoe birch-tree, so much talked of, and so
valuable to the poor Indians who inhabit the cold
regions where it grows.

Our young Southerners contemplated the tree
with ff^^^l.igs of interest and curiosity. They saw
that it was about sixty feet high, and somewhat
more than a foot in diameter. Its leaves were

ssxs

134

THREE CURIOUS TREES.

1,1

S;:J^

nearly cordate, or heart-shaped, and of a very
dark-green colour ; but that which rendered it
most conspicuous among the other trees of the
forest was the shining white or silver-coloured
bark that covered its trunk, and its numerous
slender branches. This bark is only white ex-
ternally. When you have cut through the epidermis
you find it of a reddish tinge, very thick, and
capable of being divided into several layers. The
wood of the tree makes excellent fuel, and is
also* often used for articles of furniture. It has
a close, shining grain, and is strong enough for
ordinary implements ; but if exposed to the weather
will decay rapidly.

The "canoe-birch" is not the only species of
these trees found in North America. The genus
Betula (so called from the Celtic word batu^ which
means birch) has at least half-a-dozen other known
representatives in these parts. There is the " white
birch" (J5. populifolia\ a worthless tree of some
twenty feet in height, and less than six inches
diameter. The bark of this species is useless, and
its wood, which is soft and white, is unfit even for
fuel. It grows, however, in the poorest soil. Next
tliere is a species called the " cherry-birch "

THREE CURIOUS TREES.

136

{B. lento) f so named from the resemblance of its
bark to the common cherry-tree. It is also called
"sweet birch," because its young twigs, when
crushed, give out a pleasant aromatic odour.
Sometimes the name of " black birch " is given to
this species. It is a tree of fifty or sixty feet in
height, and its wood is much used in cabinet-work,
as it is close-grained, of a beautiful reddish colour,
and susceptible of a high polish.

The "yellow birch" is a tree of the same size,
and is so called from the colour of its epidermis.
It is likewise used in cabinet-work, though it is not
considered equal in quality to the cherry-birch.
Its leaves and twigs have also an aromatic smell
when bruised, not so strong, however, as the last
mentioned. The wood makes excellent fuel, and is
much used for that purpose in some of the large
cities of America. The bark, too, is excellent for
tanning — almost equal to that of the oak.

The "red birch" is still another species, which
takes its name from the reddish hue of its bark.
This is equal in size to the canoe-birch, often
growing seventy feet high, with a trunk of nearly
three feet diameter. Its branches are long, slender,
and pendulous ; and it is from the twigs of this

>ij

ii\i

\il

( ^

136

THREE CURIOUS TREES.

species that most of the "birch-brooms" used in
America are made.

Still another species of American birches is the
"dwarf birch" {Betula nana), so called from its
diminutive size, which is that of a shrub, only
eighteen inches or two feet in height. It usually
grows in very cold or mountainous regions, and is
the smallest of these interesting trees.

This information regarding the birches of
America was given by Lucien to his brothers, not
at that time, but shortly afterward, when the three
were engaged in felling one of these trees. Just
then other matters occupied them, and they had
only glanced, first at the canoe -birch and then at
the other tree which Norman had pointed out. The
latter was of a different genus. It belonged to the
order Coniferce, or cone-bearing trees, as was evi-
dent from the cone-shaped fruits that hung upon
its branches, as well as from its needle-like
evergreen leaves.

The cone-bearing trees of America are divided
by botanists into three great sub-orders — the
Pines, the Cypresses, and the Yews. Each of these
includes several genera. By the "pine tribe"
is meant all those trees known commonly by

THREE CURIOUS TREES.

137

the names pine, spruce, fir, and larch ; while
the Cupressinee, or cypress tribe, are the cypress
proper, the cedars, the arbor-vitae, and the junipers.
The yew tribe has fewer genera or species ; bnt
the trees in America known as yews and hemlocks
— of which there are several varieties — belong
to it.

Of the pine tribe a great number of species exist
throughout the North American Continent. The
late explorations on the western slope of the Rocky
Mountains, and in the countries bordering on the
Pacific, have brought to light a score of species
hitherto unknown to the botanist. Many of these
are trees of a singular and valuable kind. Several
species found in the mountains of North Mexico,
and throughout those desert regions where harcly
any other vegetation exists, have edible seeds upon
which whole tribes of Indians subsist for many
months in the year. The Spanish Americans call
them pihon trees, but there are several species of
them in different districts. The Indians parch the
seeds, and sometimes pound them into a coarse
meal, from which they bake a very palatable bread.
This bread is often rendered more savoury by mix-
ing the meal with dried " prairie crickets," a species
of coleopterous insects — that is, insects with a

138

THREE CURIOUS TREES.

i I

crustaceous or shell-like covering over their wings —
which are common in the desert wilds where these
Indians dwell. Some prairie travellers have pro-
nounced thia singular mixture equal to the "best
pound-cake."

Tlie "Lambert p^-o," so called from the botanist
of that name, is found in Oregon and California,
and may be justly considered one of the wonders of
the world. Three hundred feet is not an uncommon
height for this vegetable giant ; and its cones have
been seen of eighteen inches in length, hanging like
sugar-loaves from its high branches I The won-
derful " palo Colorado " of California is another
giant of the pine tribe. It also grows above three
hundred feet high, with a diameter of sixteen feet !
Then there is the " red pine," of eighty feet high,
much used for the decks and masts of ships ; the
" pitch-pine " {Pinus rigida), a smaller tree, es-
teemed for its fuel, and furnishing most of the fire-
wood used in some of the American cities. From
this species the strong burning " knots " are ob-
tained. There is the " white pine " {Pinus strobtis),
valuable for its timber. This is one of the largest;
and best known of the pines. It often attains a
height of an hundred and fifty feet, and a large
proportion of those planks so well known to the

THREE CURIOUS TREES.

139

carpenter are sawed from its trunk. In the State
of New York alone no less than 700,000,000 f;?ct
of timber are annually obtained from trees of this
species, which, by calculation, must exhaust every
year the enormous amount of 70,000 acres of
forest ! Of course, at this rate the pine-forests of
New York State must soon be entirely destroyed.

In addition, there is the "yellow pine," a tree of
sixty feet high, much used in flooring houses ; and
the beautifal "balsam fir," used as an ornamental
evergreen both in Europe and America, and from
which is .»btrined the well-known medicine — the
" Canada balsam." This tree, in favourable situa-
tions, attains the height of sixty feet ; while upon
the cold summits of mountains it is often seen rising
only a few inches from the surface. The " hemlock
spruce" {P. Canadensis), is another species, the
bark of which is used in tanning. It is inferior to
the oak, though the leather made by it is of excel-
lent quality. The " black " or " double spruce "
(P. nigra), is that species from the twigs of which
is extracted the essence that gives its peculiar
flavour to the well-known " spruce heer^"* Besides
these, at least a dozen new species have lately been
discovered on the interior mou.itains of Mexico —

1 1

I )

THREE CURIOUS TREES.

all of them more or less possessing valuabie pro-
perties.

The pines cannot be termed trees of the tropics,
yet do they grow in southern and warm countries.
In the Carolinas, tar and turpentine, products of
the pine, are two staple articles of exportation ;
and even under the equator itself, the high moun-
tains are covered with pine-forests. But the pine
is more especially the tree of a northern sv/lva.
As you approach the Arctic circle, it becomes the
characteristic tree. There it appears in extensive
forests, lending their picturesque sheltcir to the
snowy desolation of the earth. One species of
pine is i-h*^. very last tree that disappears as the
traveller, in approaching the pole, takes his leave
of the- limits of vegetation. This species is the
" white spruce" {Pinus alba), the very one which,
along with the birch-tree, had been pointed qui by
Norman to his companions.

It was a tree not over thirty or forty feet high,
with a trunk of less than a foot in thickness, and
of a brownish colour. Its leaves or " needles"
were about an inch in length, very slender and
acute, and of a bluish green tint. The cones upon
it, which at that season were young, were of a pale

THREE CURIOUS TREES.

141

able pro-

e tropics,
countries,
oducts of
lortation ;
fh moun-

the pine
rn m/lva.
.'omes the
extensive
r to the
pecies of
rs as the
liis leave

8 is the
le which,
OUT by

et high,
less, and
needles "
der and
lea upon
of a pale

green. When ripe, however, they beoome rusty-
brown, and are nearly t;vo inches in length.

What use Norman would make of this tree in
building his canoe, neither Basil nor Fran9ois knew.
Lucien only guessed at it. Francois asked the
question, by saying that he supposed the " timbers "
were to come out of it.

" No," said Norman, " for that I want still another
sort. If I can't find that sort, however, I can
manage to do without it, but not so well."

"What other sort?" demanded Francois.

" I want some cedar-wood," replied the other.

" Ah ! that's for the timbers," said Fran9ois ;
" I am sure of it. The cedar-wood is lighter than
any other, and, I dare say, would answer admirably
for ribs and other timbers."

" You are right this time, Frank — it is con
sidered the best for that purpose."

" You think there are ceuar-trees on the hills we
saw this morning ? " said Francois, addressing his
Canadian cousin.

" I think so. I noticed something like them."

" And I, too, observed a dark foliage," said
Lucien, " which looked like the cedar. If any-
where in this neighbourhood, wc shall find them

I ! I ,v.

'i\

142

THREE CURIOUS TREES.

there. They usually grow upon rocky, sterile hills,
such as those appear to be — that is their proper
situation."

" The question," remarked Basil, " ought to be
settled at once. We have made up our mind to
the building of a canoe, and I think we should
lose no time in getting ready the materials. Sup-
pose wo all set out for the hills."

" Agreed — agreed ! " shouted the others with one
voice ; and then shouldering their guns, and taking
the axe along, all four set out for the hills. On
reaching these, the object of their search was at once
discovered. The tops of all the hills — dry, barren
ridges they were — were covered with a thick grove
of the red cedar {Juniperus viginiana). The trees
were easily distinguished by the numerous branches
spreading horizontally, and thickly covered with
short dark green needles, giving them that sombre,
shady appearance, that makes them the favourite
haunt of many species of owls. Their beauti-
ful reddish wood was well known to all the
party, as it is to almost eveiy one in the civilized
world. Everybody who has seen or used a
black-lead pencil must know what the wood of
the red cedar is like — for it is in this the black-

THREE CURIOUS TREES.

143

?rile hills,
ir proper

jht to be

mind to

re should

Is. Sup-

5 with one

nd taking

lills. On

IS at once

y, barren

ick grove

he trees

branches

ed with

sombre,

avourite

beauti-

all the

ivilized

used a

ood of

usually

:ased. In all parts of America,
where <hi« tree grows in plenty, it is employed for
posts and fence-rails, as it is one of the most
durable woods in existence. It is a great favourite
also for kindling fires, as it catches quickly, and
blazes up in a few seconds, so as to ignite the
heavier logs of other timbers, such as the oak and
the pine.

The red cedar usu€ally attains a height of about
thirty to forty feet, but in favourable situations it
grows still larger. The soil which it loves best is
of a stony, and often sterile character, and dry
barren hill-tops are frequently covered with cedars,
while the more moist and fertile valleys between
possess a sylva of a far different character. There
is a variety of the red cedar, which trails upon
the ground like a creeping plant, its branches even
taking root again. This is rather a small bush than
a tree, and is often seen hanging down the face of
inaccessible cliffs. It is known among botanists as
the Juniperus prostrata.

" Now," said Norman, after examining a few of
the cedar-trees, " we have here all that's wanted to
make our canoe. "We need lose no more time, but
go to work at once."

144

THREE CURIOUS TREES,

111 w, ipivni»j)^i pjuiia^iP

« '

■;|

; I

" Very well," replied the three brothers, " we are
ready to assist you, — tell us what to do."

" In the first place," said the other, " I think
we had better change our camp to this spot, as I
see all the different kinds of trees here, and much
better ones than those near the river. There,"
continued he, pointing to a piecn of moist ground in
the valley, — " there are some splendid birches, and
there beside them is plenty of the epinctte " (so the
voyageurs term the white spruce). " It will save us
many journeys if we go back and bring our meat to
this place at once."

To this they all of course agreed, and started
back to their first camp. They soon returned with
the meat and other things, and having chosen a clean
spot under a large -spreading cedar-tree, they kindled
a new fire and made their camp by it — that is, they
strung up the provisions, hung their horns and
pouches upon the branches aroui.d, and rested their
guns against the trees. They had no tent to pitch,
but that is not necessary to constitute a camp. In
the phraseology of the American hunter, wherever
you kindle your fire or spend the night is a

((

camp

HOTV TO BUILD A BARK CANOE.

145

" we are

ind much
There,"
rronnd in
ches, and
?" (so the
W save us
ir meat to

id started
rned with
en a clean
ly kindled
,t is, they
orns and
Isted their
to pitch,
imp. In
[wherever
;ht is a

CHAPTER XII.

now TO BUILD A BARK CANOE,

Norman expected that they would be able to finish
the canoe in about a week. Of course, the sooner
the better, and no time was lost in setting about it.
The ribs or " timbers" were the first thing to be
fashioned, and a number of straight branches of
cedar were cut, out of which they were to be made.
These branches were cleared of twigs, and rendered
of an equal thickness at both ends. They were
then flattened with the knife ; and, by means of a
little sweating in the ashes, were bent so as to bear
some resemblance in shape to the wooden ox -yokes
commonly used in America, or indeed to the letter
U. The ribs when thus bent were not all of the
same width. On the contrary, those which were
intended to be placed near the middle or gangway
of the vessel, were about two feet across from side
to side, while the space between the sides of the

K'r

146

HOW TO BUILD

others was gradually less in each fresh pair, accord-
ing as their position was to be near to the stem and
stern. When the whole of them had been forced
into the proper shape, they were placed, one inside
the other after the manner of dishes, and then all
were firmly lashed together, and left to dry. When
the lashing should be removed, they would hold to
the form thus given them, and would be ready for
fastening to tha kelson. .

While Norman was occupied with the timbers the
others were not idle. Basil had cut down several
of th : largest and straightest birches, and Lucien
employed himself in carefully removing the bark
and cleansing it of nodules and other inequalities.
The broad sheets were suspended by a smoke fire,
so 9.A completely to dry up the sap, and render it
tough and elastic. Fran9ois had his part to play,
and that was to collect the resinous gum which was
distilled in plenty from the trunks of the epinette
or spruce-trees. This gum is a species of pitch,
and is one of the most necessary materials in the
making of a bark canoe. It is used for " paying"
the seams, as well as any cracks that may show
themselves in the bark itself; and without it, or
some similar substance, it would be difficult to make

A BARK CANOE.

147

one of thcso littlo vessels water-tight. But that is
not the only thing for which the epinctte is valued
in canoe-building ; far from it. This tree produces
another indispensable material ; its long fibrous
roots when split, form the twine-like threads by
which the pieces of bark are sewed to each other
and fastened to tha timbers. These threads are as
strong as the best cords of hemp, and are known
among the Indians by the name of " watap." In a
country, therefore, where hemp and flax cannot
be readily procured, the " watap" is of great value.
You may say that deer are plenty, and that thongs
of buckskin would serve the same purpose. This,
however, is not the case. The buckskin would never
do for such a use. The moment it becomes wet it is
liable to stretch, so that the seams would open and
the canoe get filled with water. The watap, wet or
dry, does not yield, and has therefore been found
to be the best thing of all others for this purpose.
The only parts now wanted were the gunwale
and the bottom. The former was easily obtained.
Two long poles, each twenty feet in length, were
bent somewhat like a pair of bows, and then
placed with their convex sides towards each other,
and firmly lashed together at the ends. This was

:,!'

> ■

.\ t

148

HOW TO BUILD

the gunwale. The bottom was the most difficult
part of all. For that a solid plank was required,
and they had no saw. The axe and the hatchet,
however, were called into requisition, and a log
was soon hewn and thinned down to the proper
dimensions. It was sharpened off at the ends, so
as to run to a very acute angle, both at the stem
and stern. When the bottom was considered suffi-
ciently polished, and modelled to the right shape,
the most difficult part of the undertaking was
supposed to be accomplished. A few long poles
were cut and trimmed flat. These were to be
laid longitudinally between the ribs and the bark,
somewhat after the fashion of laths in the roofing
of a house. Their use was to prevent the bark
from splitting. The materials were now all ob-
tained complete, and, with a few days' smoking and
drying, would be ready for putting together.

While waiting for the timbers to dry, paddles
were made, and Norman, with the help of the
others, prepared what he jokingly called his
" dock," and also his " ship-yard." This was neither
more nor less than a long mound of earth — not
unlike a new-made grave, only three times the
length of one, or even longer. It was flat upon

A BABK CANOE.

149

the top, and graded with earth so as to be quite
level and free from inequalities.

At length all the materials were considered quite
ready for use, and Norman went to work to put them
together.

Ilis first operation was to untie the bundle of
timbers, and separate them. They were found to
have taken the exact form into which they had
been bent, and the thongs being no longer neces-
sary to keep them in place, were removed. The
timbers themselves were next placed upon the
bottom or kelson, those with the widest bottoms
being nearer to " midships," while those with the
narrower bend were set towards the narrower ends
of the plank. Thus placed, they were all firmly
lashed with strong cords of watap, by means of
holes pierced in the bottom plank. Fortunately
Lucien happened to have a pocket-knife, in which
there was a good awl or piercer, that enabled them
to make these holes — else the matter would have
been a much more difficult one, as an awl is one of
the most essential tools in the construction of a
bark canoe. Of course it took Norman a consi-
derable time to set all the ribs in their proper
places, and fasten them securely j but he was ably

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150

HOW TO BUILD

assisted by Francois, who waited upon him with
much diligence, handing him now the awl, and
then the watap, whenever he required them.

Norman's next operation was the laying of his
kelson " in dock." The timbers being attached to
it, it was lifted up on the earthen mound, where it
reached quite from end to end. Half-a-dozen large
heavy stones were then placed upon it, so that,
pressed down by these upon the even surface of the
mould, it was rendered quite firm; and, moreover,
was of such a height from the ground that the
young shipwright could work upon it without too
much bending and kneeling.

The gunwale, already prepared, was next placed
so as to touch the ends of the ribs all round, and
these ends were adjusted to it with great nicety,
and firmly joined. Strong cross-pieces were fixed,
which were designed, not only to keep the gunwale
from spreading or contracting, but afterwards to
serve as seats.

Of course the gunwale formed the complete
mouth, or upper edge of the canoe. It was several
feet longer than the bottom plank, and, when in
place, projected beyond the ribs at both ends.
From each end of the bottom plank, therefore, to

A BARK CANOE.

151

the corresponding end of the gurwale, a straight
piece of wood was stretcht 1, and fastened. One of
these pieces would form the stem or cutwater,
while the other would become the stern of the
craft. The long poles were next laid longitudi-
nally upon the ribs outside, and lashed in their
places ; and this done, the skeleton was completed,
ready for the bark.

The latter had been already cut to the proper
dimensions and shape. It consisted of oblong
pieces — each piece being a regular parallelogram,
as it had been stripped from the tree. These were
laid upon the ribs longitudinally, and then sewed to
the edge of the bottom plank, and also to the gun-
wale. The bark itself was in such broad pieces
that two of thr-m were sufficient to cover half a side,
so that but one seam was required lengthwise, in
addition to the fastenings at the top and bottom.
Two lengths of the bark also reached cleverly from
stern to stern, and thus required only one transverse
seam on each side. There was an advantage in
this arrangement, for where the birch-bark can
only be obtained in small flakes, a great number of
seams is a necessary consequence, and then it is
extremely difficult to keep the canoe from leaking.

152

HOW TO BUILD

Thanks to the fine birch-trees, that grew in abun-
dance around, our boat-builders had procured the
very best bark.

The canoe was now completed all but the " pay-
ing," and that would not take long to do. The
gum of the epinctte had to be boiled, and mixed
with a little grease, so as to form a species of
wax. For this the fat already obtained from
the buffaloes was the very thing j and a small tin
cup which Basil had saved from the wreck (it
had been strung to his bullet-pouch), enabled them
to melt the gum, and apply it hot. In less than
an hour the thing was done. Every crack and
awl-hole was payed, and the canoe was pronounced
"watertight," and, as Fran9ois added, with a
laugh, "seaworthy."

A small pond was near, at the bottom of the
hill : Francois espied it.

" Come, boys," cried he, " a launch! a launch!"

This was agreed to by all. The great stones
were taken out. Basil and Norman, going one to
the stem the other to the stern, lifted the canoe
from the " dock," and, raising it upon their
shoulders, carried it down to the pond. The next
moment it was pushed into the water, where it

n *

A BAKK CANOE.

153

floated like a cork. A loud cheer was given, in
which even Marengo joined ; and a salute v/as
then fired — a full broadside — from the four
guns. Fran9ois, to complete the thing, seized one
of the paddles, and leaping into the canoe, shot
the little craft out upon the bosom of the pond,
cheering all the while like one frantic. After
amusing himself for some minutes, lie paddled
back to the shore, when they all looked eagerly
into the canoe, and perceived to their gratification
that not as much as a drop of water had leaked
during the "trip." Thanks and congratulations now
greeted Norman from every side; and, taking their
vessel from the water, the young voyageurs re-
turned to their camp, to regale themselves with a
grand dinner, which Lucien had cooked for the
occasion.

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154

THE CHAIN OF LAKES.

CHAPTER XIII.

THE CHAIN OF LAKES.

i'l I

Our younfT vojageuir^ now prepared to resume
their journfj. While Norman was engaged in
building hip «ttii»e, witm his assistant, Framcois,
the others kadi not ibeen idle. Basil was, of
course, the huiracer of "fe party; and, in addition
to the small gaxne, saA as hares, gee?*e, and
grouse, he haid killed duRe caribou, of the large
variety known as "wooxHaiid caribou.^ These
are a species of the reiimdeer ' Cervus tarandus)y
of which I have more tr) say kereafter. Lucien
had attended to the drying ac their flesh ; and
there was enough of it still left, as our voyageurs
believed, to supply their wants until they should
reach Cumberland House, where they would, of

THE CHAIN OF LAKES.

155

3 resume

course, procure a fresh stock of provisions. The
skins of the caribou had also been scraped and
dressed by Lucien — who understood the process
well — r.nd these, with the skin of the antelope,
were sufficient to make a pair of hunting-shirts
for Ba^il and Norman, who, it will be remembered,
had lost theirs by cutting them up.

Next mornin<r the canoe was launched upon
the river — below the rapids — and the dried meat,
with their other matters, snugly stowed in the
stern. Then the young voyageurs got in, and,
seating themselves in their places, seized hold of
the paddles. The next moment the canoe shot
out into the stream; and a triumphant cheer from
the crew announced that they had recommenced
their journey. They found to their delight that
the little vessel behaved admirably, — shooting
through the water like an arrow, and leaking
not water enough, as rran9ois expressed it, " to
drown a mosquito." They had all taken their
deats in the order which had been agreed upon for
the diiy. Norman w^as " bowsman," and, of course,,
sate in the bow. This, among the regular Canadian
voyageurs, is esteemed the post of honour, and

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156

T* J CHAIN OF LAKES.

s \\

the bowsman is usually styled "Captain" by the
rt it of nhe crew. It is also the post that requires
the greatest amount of skill on the part of its
occupant, particularly where there are rapids or
shoals to be avoided. The post of " steersman " is
also one of honour and importance ; and both
steersman and bowsman receive higher wages than
the other voyageurs who pass under the name
of " middlemen." The steersman sits in the stern,
and that place was now occupied by Lucien, who
had proved himself an excellent steersman. Basil
and Francois were, of course, the " middlemen,"
and plied the paddles. This was the arrangement
made for the day ; but although on other days
the programme was to be changed, so as to relieve
Basil and Fran9ois, on all occasions when there
were rapids or other difficulties to be encountered
they were to return to this order. Norman, of
course, understood canoe navigation better than
his Southern cousins ; and therefore, by universal
assent, he was acknowledged "the Captain," and
Fran9ois always addressed hira as such. Lucien's
claim to the post of second honour was admitted
to be just, as he had proved himself capable of

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THE CHAIN OP LAKES.

157

filling it to the satisfaction of all. Marengo had
no post, but lay quietly upon the buffalo skin
between Lucien'3 legs, and listened to the con-
versation without joining in it, or in any way
interfering in the working of the vessel.

In a few hours our voyagours had passed through
the low marshy country that lies around the mouth
of the Red River, and the white expanse of the
great Lake Winnipeg opened before them, stretch-
ing northw^Rvri far beyond the range of their vision.
Noinian knoA' the lake, luidng crossed it before,
but its aspect somewhat disappointed the Soutliem
travellers. Instead of a vast dark lake which they
had expected to see, they looked upon a w^hitish
muddy sheet, that presented but few attractive
points to the eye, either in the hue of its water or
the scenery of ils shores. These, so far as they
could see them, were Ioav, and apparently marsl.iy ;
and this is, in fact, the character of the southern
shores of Winnipeg. On its east and north, how-
ever, the country is of n different character. There
the geological formation is what is termed primi-
tive. The rocks consist of granite, sienite, gneiss,
&c. ; and, as is alwnys the case where such rocks
are found, the countiy is hilly and rugged. On

.Ji

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158

THE CHAIN OF LAKES.

the western shores a secondary formation exists.
This is stratified limestone, — the same as that
which forms the bed of many of the great prairies
of America ; and, indeed, the Lake Winnipeg lies
between this secondary formation and the primitive,
which bounds it on the east. Along its western
shores extends the flat limestone country, partly
wooded and partly prairie land, running from that
point for hundreds of miles up to the very foot of
the Rocky Mountains, where the primitive rocks
again make their appearance in the rugged peaks
of that stupendous chain. Lake Wiimipeg is nearly
three hundred miles in length, but it is very
narrow — being in its widest reach not over fifty
miles, and in many places only fifteen miles from
shore to shore. It trends nearly due north and
south, leaning a little north-west and south-east,
and receives many large rivers, as the Red, the
Saskatchewan, and the Winnipeg. The waters of
these are again carried out of it by other rivers
that run from the lake, and empty into the Hud-
son's Biiy. There is a belief among the hunters
and voyageurs that this lake has its tides like the
ocean. Such, however, is not the case. There is
at times a rise and overflow of its waters, but it

THE CHAIN OF LAKES.

159

is not periodical, and is supposed to be occasioned
by strong winds forcing the waters towards a par-
ticular shore.

Lake Winnipeg is remarkable, as being in the
very centre of the North American c ntinent,
and may be called the centre of the canoe navi-
gation. From this point it is possible to travel
by loater to Hudson's Bay on the north-east, to the
Atlantic Ocean on the east, to the Gulf of Mexico
on the south, to the Pacific on the west, and to the
Polar Sea on the north and north-west. Consider-
ing that some of these distances are upwards of
three thousand miles, it will bo perceived that Lake
Winnipeg holds a singular position upon the con-
tinent. All the routes mentioned can be made
without any great " portage," and even a choice of
route is often to be had upon those different lines of
communication.

These were points of information communica,ted
by Norman as the canoe was paddled along the
shore ; for Noriiian, although troubling himself but
little about the causes of things, possessed a «:<»d
practical knowledge of things aks they actiaally were.
He was tolerably well a<f/^ jainted with tJie routes,
their portages, and distances. Some of them he

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160

THE CHAIN OF LAKES.

had travelled over in company with his father, and
of others he had heard the accounts given by the
voyageurs, traders, and trappers. Norman knew
that Lake Winnipeg was muddy, — he did not care
to inquire the cause. Ho knew that there was a
hilly country on its eastern and a low level land on
its western shores, but it never occurred to him to
speculate on this geological difference. It was the
naturalist Lucien who threw omt some hints on this
part of the subject, .ind further added his opinion,
that the lake came to be there in consequence of
the wearing away of the rocks at the junction of the
stratified with the primitive formation, thus creating
an excavation in the surface, which in time became
filled with water and formed the lake. This cause
he also assigned for the existence of a remarkable
" chain of lakes" that extends almost from the Arctic
Sea to the frontiers of Canada. The most noted of
these arc Martin, Great Slave, Athabasca, Wollas-
ton. Deer, Lake Winnipeg, and the Lake of the
Woods. Lucien further informed his companions,
that where primitive rocks form the surface of a
country, that surface will be found to exhibit great
diversity of aspect. There will be numerous lakes
and swamps, rugged steep hills with deep valleys

mmt

ftmmm

THE CHAIN OF LAKES.

161

between, short streams with many falls and rapids.
These are the characteristics of a primitive surface.
On the other hand, where secondary rocks prevail
the surface is usually a series of plains, often high,
dry, and treeless, as is the case upon the great
American prairies.

Upon such topics did Lucien instruct his com-
panions, as they paddled their canoe around the
edge of the lake. They had turned the head of
their little vessel westward — as it was their design
to keep along the western border of the lake until
they should reach the mouth of the Saskatchewan.
They kept at a short distance from the shore, usu-
ally steering from point to point, and in this way
making their route as direct as possible. It would
have been still more direct had they struck out into
the open lake, and kept up its middle ; but this
would have been a dangerous cour3e to pursue.
There are often high winds upon Lake Winnipeg, that
spring up suddenly ; and at such times the waves,
if not mountains high, at least arrive at the height
of houses. Among such billows the little craft
would have been in danger of being swamped, and
our voyageurs of going to the bottom. They,
therefore, wisely resolved not to risk such an acci-

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162

THE CHAIN OP LAKES.

dent, but to " hug the shore," though it made their
voyage longer. Each night they would land at
some convenient place, kindle their fire, cook their
supper, and dry their canoe for the next day's
journey.

According to this arrangement^ a little before
sunset of the first day they came to land and made
their camp. The canoe was unloaded, carefully
lifted out of the water, and then set bottom upward
to drip and dry. A fire was kindled, so^ o of the
dry meat cooked, and all four sat down and began
to eat, as only hungry travellers can.

I i

WAPITI, WOLVES, AND WOLVERENE. 163

CHAPTER XIV.

WAPITI, WOLVES, AND WOLVERENE.

The spot where our voyageurs had landed was at
the bottom of a small bay. The country back
from the lake was level and clear of timber. Here
and there, nearer the shore, however, its surface
was prettily interspersed with small clumps of
willows, that formed little copse-like thickets of
deep green. Beside one of these thickets, within
a hundred yards of the beach, the fire had been
kindled, on a spot of ground that commanded a
view of the plain for miles back.

" Look yonder ! " cried Francois, who had finished
eating, and risen to his feet. " What are these, cap-
tain?" Fran9ois pointed to some objects that ap-
peared at a great distance off upon the plain.

The " captain " rose up, placed his hand

164

WAPITI, WOLVES,

SO as to shade his eyes from the sun, and, after
looking for a second or two in the direction indi-
cated, replied to the other's question by simply
saying,—

« Wapiti."

" I'm no wiser than before I asked the question,"
said Fran9ois. " Pray, enlighten me as to what a
wapiti may be ! "

" Why, red deer ; or elk, if you like."

" Oh ! elk — now I understand you. I thought
they were elk, but they're so far off I wasn't

sure.

Lucien at this moment rose up, and looking
through a small telescope, which he carried, con-
firmed the statement of the "captain," and pro-
nounced it to be a herd of elk.

" Come, Luce," demanded Fran9ois, " tell us
what you know of the elk. It will pass the time.
Norman says it's no use going after them out there
in the open ground, as they'd shy off before one
could get within shot. You see there is not a
bush within half-a-mile of them."

" If we wait," interrupted Norman, " I should
not wonder but we may have them among the
bushes before long. They appear to be grazing

AND WOLVERENE.

165

this way. I warrant you, they'll come to the lake
to drink before nightfall."

" Very well then : the philosopher can tell us
all about them before that."

Lucien, thus appealed to, began : —

" There are few animals that have so many
names as this. Ii is called in different districts,
or by different authors, elky round-horned elky
American elk, stag, red deer, grey moose, le biche,
wapiti, and wewaskish. Naturalists have given not
a few of their designations, as Cervus Canadensis,
C. major, C. alces, C. strongylocerus, S^c.

" You may ask. Why so many names ? I shall tell
you. It is called * elk ' because it was supposed by
the early colonists to be the same as the elk of
Europe. Its name of 'grey moose' is a hunter
appellation, to distinguish it from the real moose,
which the same hunters know as the ' black moose.'
* Round-horned elk' is also a hunter name. * We-
waskish,' or * waskesse,' is an Indian name for the
animal. ' Stag' comes from the European deer so
called, because this species somewhat resembles the
stag ; and 'red deer' is a name used by the Hudson
Bay traders. 'Le biche' is another synonyme of
French authors.

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166

WAPiTr, wolves;

' " Of all these names I think that of * wapiti,*
which our cousin has given, the best. The names
of *elk,* *stag,* and * red deer,' lead to confusion,
as there are other species to which they properly
belong, all of which are entirely different from the
wapiti. I believe that this last name is now used
by the best-informed naturalists.

" In my opinion," continued Lucien, " the wapiti
is the noblest of all the deer kind. It possesses the
fine form of the European stag, while it is nearly a
third larger and stronger. It has all the grace of
limb and motion that belongs to the common deer,
while its towering horns give it a most majestic
and imposing appearance. Its colour during the
summer is of a reddish brown, hence the name red
deer ; but, indeed, the reddish tint upon the wapiti
is deeper and richer than that of its European
cousin. The wapiti, like other deer, brings forth
its fawns in the spring. They are usually a male
and female, for two is the number it produces. The
males only have horns ; and they must be several
years old before the antlers become full and branch-
ing. They fall every year, but not until February or
March, and then the new ones grow out in a month
or six weeks. During the sjummer the horns remain

AND WOLVERENE.

ler

,TI«.-

soft and tender to the touch. They are covered at
this time with a soft membrane that looks like
greyish velvet, and they are then said to be * in the
velvet.' There are nerves and blood-vessels run-
ning through this membrane, and a blow upon the
horns at this season gives great pain to the animal.
When the autumn arrives the velvet peels off, and
they become as hard as bone. They would need to
be, for this is the 'rutting' season, and the bucks
fight furious battles with each other, clashing their
horns together, as if they would break them to
pieces. Very often a pair of bucks, while thus
contending, *lock' their antlers, and bemg unable
to draw them apart, remain head to head, until
both die with hunger, or fall a prey to the
prowling wolves. This is true not only of the elk,
but also of the rein-deer, the moose, and many
other species of deer. Hundreds of pairs of horns
have been found thus * locked,' and the solitary
hunter has often surprised the deer in this unpleasant
predicament.

" The wapiti utters a whistling sound, that can
be heard far off, and often guides the hunter
to the right spot. In the rutting season the bucks
make other noises, which somewhat resemble the

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168

WAPITI, WOLVES,

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brajing of an ass, and are equally disagreeable to
listen to. ■ ^

" rhe wapiti travel about in small herds, rarely
exceeding fifty, but often of only six or seven.
Where they are not much hunted they are easily
approached, but otherwise they are shy enough.
The bucks, when wounded and brought to bay,
become dangerous assailants ; much more so than
those of the common deer. Hunters have sometimes
escaped with difficulty from their horns and hoofs,
wi^h the latter of which they can inflict very
severe blows. They are hunted in the same way
as other deer; but the Indians capture many of
them in the water, when they discover them
crossing lakes or rivers. They are excellent swim-
mers, and can make their way over the arm of a
lake or across the widest river.

"They feed upon grass, and sometimes on the
young shoots of willows and poplar trees. They
are especially fond of a species of wild rose
{Rosa blanda)y which grows in the countries they
frequent.

" The wapiti at one time ranged over a large
part of the continent of North America. Its
range is now restricted by the spread of the settle-

Ain> WOLVERENE.

169

ments. It is still found in most of the Northern
parts of the United States, but only in remote
mountainous districts, and even there it is a
rare animal. In Canada it is more common ;
and it roams across the continent to the shr<re&
of the Pacific. It is not an animal of the tropical
tjuntries, as it is not found in Mexico proper.
On the other hand, wapiti do not go farther north
than about the fifty-seventh parallel of latitude,
and then they are not in their favourite habitat,
which is properly the temperate zone."

Lucien was interrupted by an exclamation from
Basil, who stood up looking out upon the prairie.
They all saw that he had been observing the
wapiti.

" What is it ?" cried they.

" Look yonder ! " replied Basil, pointing in the
direction of the herd. " Something disturbs them.
Give me your glass. Luce."

Lucien handed the telescope to his brother, who,
drawing it to the proper focus, pointed it towards
the deer. The rest watched them with the naked
eye. They could see that there was some trouble
among the animals. There were only six in the herd,
and even at the distance our voyageurs could tell

^mmmt^mmm

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170

WAPITI, W0LVE8,

that they were all bucks, for it was the season when
the does secrete themselves in the woods and
thickets to bring forth their young. They were
running to and fro upon the prairie, pnd doubling
about as if playing, or rather as if some creature
was chasing them. With the naked eye, however,
nothing could be seen upon the ground but the
bucks themselves, and all the others looked to
Basil, who held the glass, for an explanation of
their odd manoeuvres.

I "There are wolves at them," said Basil, after
regarding them for a second or two.

" That's odd," rejoined Norman. " Wolves don't
often attack full-grown wapiti, except when
wounded or crippled somehow. They must be
precious hungry. What sort of wolves are they ?"

To you, boy reader, this question may seem
strange. You, perhaps, think that a wolf is a
wolf, and there is but one kind. Such, however,
is not the exact truth. In America there are two
distinct species of wolves, and of these twt) species
there are many varieties, which differ so much in
colour and other respects, that some authors have
classed them as so many distinct species instead of
considering them mere varieties. Whether they

I I
AND WOLVERENE.

171

may be species or not is still a question among
naturalists ; but certair it is that two well-defined
species do exist, which r-iffer in size, form, colour,
and habits. These are the large or common wolf
{Cants lupus), and the barking or prairie wolf
( Cants latrans). The first species is the American
representative of the common wolf of Europe ; and
although an animal of similar nature and habits,
it differs very much from the latter in form and
appearance. It is, therefore, not the same, as
hitherto supposed. This American wolf is found
in greater or less numbers throughout the whole
continent ; but in the Northern regions it is very
common, and is seen in at least five different
varieties, known by the characteristic names of
black, pied, white, , dusky, and grey wolves.
Of these the grey is the most numerous kind ;
but as I shall have occasion to speak of the
large wolves hereafter, I shall say no more of them
at present, but direct your attention to the second
and very different species, the prairie wolves.

These are a full third smaller than the common
kind. They are swifter, and go in larger packs.
They brinf forth their young in burrows on the
open plain, and not among the woods, like the

172

WAPITI, WOLVES,

Other species. They are the most cunning of
American animals, not excepting their kindred the
foxes. They cannot be trapped by any contrivance,
but by singular manoeuvres often themselves decoy
the over-curious antelope to approach too near
them. When a gun is fired upon the prairies they
may be seen starting up on all sides, and running
for the spot in hopes of coming in for a share of
the game. Should an animal — deer, antelope, or
buffalo — be wounded, and escape the hunter, it
is *not likely to escape them also. They will set
after it, and run it down if the wound has been a
mortal one. On the other hand, if the wound has
been only slight, and is not likely in the end to
cripple the animal, the wolves will not stir from
the spot. This extraordinary sagacity often tells
the hunter whether it is worth his while to follow
the game he has shot at ; but in any case he is
likely to arrive late, if the wolves set out before
him, as a dozen of them will devour the largest
deer in a few minutes* time. The prairie wolves
as well as the others follow the herds of buffaloes,
and attack the gravid cows and calves when sepa-
rated from the rest. Frequently they sustain a
contest with the bulls, when the latter are old or

rrrtr:-.r3tt:-

AND WOLVERENE.

173

wounded, but on such occasions many of them get
killed before the old bull becomes their prey.

They resemble the common grey wolf in colour,
but there are varieties in thi° respect, though not
so great as among the larger species. Their voice
is entirely different, and consists of three distinct
barks, ending in a prolonged howl. Hence the spe-
cific and usual name "barking-wolf" (C latrans).
They are found only in the Western or prairie
half of the continent, and thence west to the
Pacific. Their Northern range is limited to the
fifty-fifth parallel of latitude — ^but they are met
with southward throughout Mexico, where they
are common enough, and known by the name of
"coyote."

Their skins are an article of trade with the
Hudson's Bay Company. The fur is of about the
same quality with that of other wolves, and con-
sists of long hairs, with a thick wool at the base.
In commerce they are termed " cased wolves,'*
because their skins, on being removed, are not
split open as with the large wolf-skins, but are
stript off after the manner of rabbits, and then
turned inside out, or " cased," as it is termed.

So much for the Canis latrans.

'f I

174

WAPITI, WOLVES,

I I

' ]

! '

" Prairie wolves I" said Basil, in answer to the
question put by his cousin.

" There must be something the matter with one
of the bucks, then," remarked Norman, " or else
there's a good big pack of the wolves, and they
expect to tire one down. I believe they some-
times do try it that way."

" There appears to be a large pack," answered
Basil, still looking through the glass j " fifty at least
-p-See ! they have separated one of the bucks from
the herd — it's running this way !"

Basil's companions had noticed this as soon as
himself, and all four now leaped to their guns. The
wapiti was plainly coming towards them, and they
could no^r distinguish the wolves following upon
his heels, strung out over the prairie like a pack
of hounds. When first started, the buck was a fuU
half-mile distant, but in less than a minute's time
he came breasting forward until the boys could
see his sparkling eyes and the play of his proud
flanks. He was a noble animal to look at. His
horns were full grown, but still " in the velvet,"
and as he ran with his snout thrown forward, his
antlers lay along both sides of his neck until their
tips touched his shoulders. He continued on in

AND WOLVERENE.

175

a direct line until he was within less than an
hundred paces of the camp ; but, perceiving the
smoke of the fire, and the figures crouching around
it, he swerved suddenly from his course, and
darted into the thicket of willows, where he was
for the moment hidden from view. The wolves —
fifty of them at least — had followed him up to
this point ; and as he entered the thicket several
had been close upon his heels. The boys
expected to see the wolves rush in after him —
as there appeared to be no impediment to their
doing so — but, to the astonishment of all, the
latter came to a sudden halt, and then went
sneaking back — some of them even running off as
if terrified ! At first the hunters attributed this
strange conduct to their own presence, and the
smoke of the camp ; but a moment's reflection
convinced them that this could not be the reason
of it, as they were all well acquainted with the
nature of the prairie wolf, and had never witnessed
a similar exhibition before.

They had no time to think of the wolves just
then. The buck was the main attraction, and,
calling to each other to surround the thicket, all
four started in different directions. In a couple

"»'l IV

ii«iiMpLfiiai

T^^^'T

1, I

'If

176

WAPITI, WOLVES,

:tl I

of minutes they had placed themselves at nearly
equal distances around the copse, and stood watch-
ing eagerly for the reappearance of the wapiti.

The willows covered about an acre of ground,
but they were tolerably thick and full-leaved, and
the buck could not be seen from any side. Wher-
ever he was, he was evidently at a stand-still,
for not a rustle could be heard among the leaves,
nor were any of the tall stalks seen to move.
! Marengo was now sent in. This would soon
start him, and all four stood with guns cocked
and ready. But before the dog had made three
lengths of himself into the thicket, a loud snort
was heard, followed by a struggle and the stamping
of hoofs, and the next moment the wapiti came
crashing through the bushes. A shot was fired
— it was the crack of Lucien's small rifle — but
it had missed, for the buck was seen passing
onward and outward. All ran round to the side
he had taken, and had a full view of the animal
as he bounded off. Instead of running free as
before, he now leaped heavily forward, and what
was their astonishment on seeing that he carried
another animal upon his back!

The hunters could hardly believe their eyes, but

'Vmm

t nearly
I watch-
piti.
ground,
ired, and

Wher-
md-still,
3 lea,ves,
love.
lid soon

cocked
le three
d snort
tamping
^i came
^s fired
ie — but
passing
)he side

animal
free as
id what
carried

res, but

'li

iti

THE WAPITI AND THK WOI.VKIIENK.— Prt^«' 177.

AND WOLVERENE.

there it was, sure enough, a brown shaggy mass,
lying flat along the shoulders of the wapiti, and
clutching it with large spreading claws. Fran9oi8
cried out, " A panther ! " and Basil at first believed
it to be a bear, but it was hardly large enough for
that. Norman, however, who had lived more in
those parts where the animal is found, knew it at
once to be the dreaded " wolverene." Its head
could not be seen, as that was hid behind the
shoulder of the wapiti, whose throat it was en-
gaged in tearing. But its short legs and broad
paws, its bushy tail and long shaggy hair, together
with its round-arching back and dark-brown colour,
were all familiar marks to the young fur-trader;
and he at once pronounced it a " wolverene."

When first seen, both it and the wapiti were
beyond the reach of their rifles ; and the hunters,
surprised by such an unexpected apparition, had
suddenly halted. Fran9ois and Basil were about
to renew the pursuit, but were prevented by Norman
who counselled them to remain where they were.

" They won't go far," said be ; " let us watch
them a bit. See ! the buck takes the water!"

The wapiti, on leavmg the willows, had run
straight out in the firsii direction that offered,

Hvwiiiiiiui limaiiiv^f^n^pp^B^ippiii

"''^^^'^^^mmmmm^'ifmmmim

'■ 4

178

WAPITI, WOLVES,

which happened to be in a line parallel with the
edge of the lake. His eye, however, soon caught
sight of the water, and, doubling suddenly round,
he made directly towards it, evidently with the
intention of plunging in. He had hopes, no 'doubt,
that by this means he might rid himself of the
terrible creature that was clinging to his shoulders,
. and tearing his throat to pieces.

A few bounds brought him to the shore. There was
no beach at the spot. The bank — a limestone bluff
' — ^rose steeply from the water's edge to a height of
eight feet, and the lake under it was several fathoms
in depth. The buck did not hesitate, but sprang
outward and downwards. A heavy plash followed,
and for some seconds both wapiti and wolverene
were lost under the water. They rose to the
surface, just as the boys reached the bank, but
they came up separately/. The dip had proved a
cooler to the fierce wolverene ; and while the wapiti
was seen to strike boldly out into the lake and
swim off, the latter — evidently out of his element —
kept plunging about clumsily, and struggling to
get back to the shore. Their position upon the
cliff above gave the hunters an excellent oppor-
tunity with their rifles, and both Basil and Norman

AND WOLVERENE.

179

sent their bullets into the wolverene's back.
Fran9ois also emptied his double-barrelled gun at
the same object, and the shaggy brute sank dead to
the bottom of the lake. Strange to saj, not one of
the party had thought of firing at the buck. This
persecution by so many enemies had won for him
their sympathy, and they would now have suffered
him to go free, but the prospect of fresh venison
for supper overcame their commiseration, and the
moment the wolverene was despatched all set about
securing the deer. Their guns were reloaded, and,
scattering along the shore, they prepared to await
his return. But the buck, seeing there was nothing
but death in his rear, swam on, keeping almost in
a direct line out into the lake. It was evident to
all that he could not swim across the lake, as its
farther shore was not even visible. He must either
return to where they were, or drown ; and knowing
this to be his only alternative, they stood still
and watched his motions. When he had got about
half-a-mile from the shore, to the surprise of aU,
he was seen to rise higher and higher above the
surface, and then all at once stop, with half of his
body clear out of the water I He had come upon

I '

WAPITI, WOLVES,

a shoal, and, knowing the advantage of it, seemed
determined to remain there. - «

Basil and Norman ran to the canoe, and in a
few minutes the little craft was launched, and
shooting through the water. The buck now saw that
it was likely to be all up with him, and, instead of
attempting to swim farther, he faced round and set
his antlers forward in a threatening attitude. But
his pursuers did not give him the chance to make a
rush. When within fifty yards or so, Norman, who
used the paddies, stopped and steadied the canoe,
and the next moment the crack of Basil's rifle
echoed over the lake, and the wapiti fell upon the
water, where, after struggling a moment, he lay
dead.

The canoe was paddled up, and his antlers
being made fast to the stern, he was towed back
to the shore, and carried into camp. What now
surprised our voyageurs was, their finding that
the wapiti had been wounded before encountering
either the wolves, wolverene, or themselves. An
arrow-head, with a short piece of the shaft, was
sticking in one of his thighs. The Indians, then,
had been after him, and very lately too, as the

,«'■/

AND WOLVERENE.

181

wound showed. It was not a mortal wound, had
the arrow-head been removed ; but of course, as it
was, it would have proved his death in the long
run. This explained why the wolves had assailed
an animal, that otherwise, from his great size and
strength, would have defied them. The wolverene,
moreover, rarely attacks game so large as the
wapiti ; but the latter had, no doubt, chanced upon
the lair of his fierce enemy, who could not resist
such a tempting opportunity of getting a meal.
The wolves had seen the wolverene as they ap-
proached the thicket, and that accounted for their
strange behavir r in the pursuit. These creatures
are as great cotv «rds as they are tyrants, and their
dread of a wolverene is equal to that with which
they themselves often inspire the wounded deer.

I 9 '■ 1

, ; '
i

182

A FAIB OF DEEP DIVERS.

' t » ' 1

CHAPTER XV.

A PAIR OF DEEP DIVERS.

The wapiti was carefully skinned, and the skin
spread out to dry. Since their mishap our voy-
ageurs had been very short of clothing. The
three skins of the woodland caribou had made
only a pair of jackets, instead of full hunting-
shirts, and even these were pinched fits. For beds
and bed-clothes they had nothing but the hides
of buffaloes, and these, although good as far as
they went, were only enough for two. Lucien,
the most delicate of the party, appropriated one,
as the others insisted upon his so doing. Fran-
9ois had the other. As for Basil and Norman,
they were forced each night to lie upon the
naked earth, and but for the large fires which
they kept blazing all the night, they would have
suffered severely from ccld. Indeed, they did suffer

A PAIR OP DEEP DIVERS.

183

quite enough ; for some of the nights were so cold,
that it was impossible to sleep by the largest fire
without one-half of their bodies feeling chilled.
The usual practice with travellers in the Far West
is to lie with their feet to the fire, while the head
is at the greatest distance from it. This is con
sidered the best mode, for so long as the feet are
warm, the rest of the body will not suffer badly;
but, on the contrary, if the feet are allowed to gel
cold, no matter what state the other parts be in,
it is impossible to sleep with comfort. Of course
our young voyageurs followed the well-known
practice of the country, and lay with their feet to
the fire in such a manner that, when all were
placed, their bodies formed four radii of a circle,
of which the fire was the centre. Marengo usually
lay beside Basil, whom he looked upon as his
proper master.

Notwithstanding a bed of grass and leaves which
they each night spread for themselves, they were
sadly in want of blankets, and therefore the skin
of the wapiti, which was a very fine one, would
be a welcome addition to their stock of bedding.
They resolved, therefore, to remain one day where
they had killed it, so that the skin might be dried

mmi^m'r'^t^'^mmmf^im9fmifi^''im^

P.PJU'L

; iU

184

A PAm OF DEEP DIVERS.

and receive a partial dressing. Moreover, they
intended to "jerk" some of the meat — although
elk-venison is not considered very palatable where
other meat can be had. It is without juice, and re-
sembles dry short-grained beef more than venison.
For this reason it is looked upon by both Indians
and white hunters as inferior to buifalo, moose,
caribou, or even the common deer. One pecu-
liarity of the flesh of this animal is, that the fat
becomes hard the moment it is taken off the fire.
It freezes upon the lips like suet, and clings around
the teeth of a person eating it, which is not the
case with that of other species of deer. The skin
of the wapiti, however, is held in high esteem
among the Indians. It is thinner than that of the
moose, but makes a much better article of leather.
When dressed in the Indian fashion — that is to say,
soaked in a lather composed of the brains and fat
of the animal itself, and then washed, dried, scraped,
and smoked — it becomes as soft and pliable as a kid-
glove, and will wash and dry without stiffening like
chamois leather. That is a great advantage which
it has, in the eyes of the Indians, over the skins
of other species of deer, as the moose and caribou —
for the leather made from these, after a wetting,

A PAIR OP DEEP DIVERS.

» t

185

becomes harsh and rigid and requires a great deal
of rubbing to render it soft again.

Lucien knew how to dress the elk-hide, and
could make leather out of it as well as any Indian
squaw in the country. But travelling as they were,
there was not a good opportunity for that ; so they
were content to give it such a dressing as the
circumstances might allow. It was spread out on
a frame of willow-poles, and set up in front of the
fire, to be scraped at intervals and cleared of the
fatty matter, as well as the numerous parasites
that at this season adhere to the skins of the
wapiti.

While Lucien was framing the skin, Basil and
Norman occupied themselves in cutting the choice
pieces of the meat into thin slices and hanging
them up before the fire. This job being finished,
all sat down to watch Lucien currying his hide.

" Ho, boys ! " cried Fran9ois, starting up as if
something had occurred to him ; " what about the
wolverene ? It's a splendid skin — why not get it
too?"

" True enough,'* replied Norman, " we had for-
gotten that. But the beast's gone to the bottom —
how can we get at him?"

'■ 'I

ill

186

A PAIR OP DEEP DIVERS.

" Why, fish him up, to be sure," said rran9oi8.
" Let's splice one of these willow-poles to my ram
rod, and I'll screw it into him, and draw him to the
surface in a jiffy. Come !"

" We must get the canoe round, then," said
Norman. " The bank's too steep for us to reach him
without it."

" Of course," assented Francois, at the same. time
going towards the willows ; " get you the canoe
into the water, while I cut the sapling."

'*" Stay ! " cried Basil, " I'll show you a shorter
method. Marengo ! "

As Basil said this, he rose to his feet, and walked
down to the bluff where they had shot the wolve-
rene. All of them followed him as well as Ma-
rengo, who bounded triumphantly from side to
side, knowing he was wanted for some important
enterprise.

" Do you expect the dog to fetch him out?"
inquired Norman.

" No," rephed Basil ; " only to help."

"How?"

" Wait a moment — ^you shall see."

Basil flung down his 'coon-skin cap, and stripped

off his caribou jacket, then his striped cotton

i I

A PAIB OF DEEP DIVERS.

187

shirt, then his under-shirt of fawn skin, and,
lastly, his trousers, leggings, and mocassins. He
was now as naked as Adam.

" Fll show you, cousin," said he, addressing him-
self to Norman, " how we take the water down
there on the Mississippi."

So saying, he stepped forward to the edge of the
bluff ; and having carefully noted the spot where
the wolverene had gone down, turned to the dog,
and simply said, —

"Ho! Marengo! Chez moi!"

The dog answered with a whimper, and a look
of intelligence which showed that he understood
his master's wish.

Basil again pointed to the lake, raised his arms
over his head, placing his palms close together,
launched himself out into the air, and shot down
head-foremost into the water.

Marengo, uttering a loud bay, sprang after so
quickly that the plunges were almost simultaneous,
and both master and dog were for some time hidden
from view. The latter rose first, but it was a long
time before Basil came to the surface — so long that
Norman and the others were beginning to feel un-
easy, and to regard the water with some anxiety.

188

A PAIB OP DEEP DIVERS.

At length, however, a spot was seen to bubble,
several yards from where he had gone down, and
the black head of Basil appeared above the surface.
It was seen that he held something in his teeth,
and was pushing a heavy body before him, which
they saw was the wolverene.

Marengo, who swam near, now seized hold of
the object, and pulled it away from his master,
who, calling to the dog to follow, struck out towards
a point where the bank was low and shelving. In
a few minutes Basil reached a landing-place, and
shortly after Marengo arrived towing the wolve-
rene, which was speedily pulled out upon the bank,
and carried, or rather dragged, by Norman and
Francois to the camp. Lucien brought Basil's
clothes, and all four once more assembled around
the blazing fire.

There is not a more hideous-looking animal in
America than the wolverene. His thick body and
short stout legs, his shaggy coat and bushy tail,
but, above all, his long curving claws and dog-
like jaws, give him a formidable appearance. His
gait is low and skulking, and his look bold and
vicious. He walks somewhat like a bear, and
his tracks are often mistaken for those of that

I ^■

A PAIR OF DEEP DIVER8.

189

animal. Indians and hunters, liowever, know the
difference well. His hind feet are plantigrade,
that is, they rest upon the ground from heel to
toe ; and his back curves like the segment of a
circle. He is fierce and extremely voracious —
quite as much so as the "glutton," of which he
is the American representative. No animal is
more destructive to the small game, and he will
also attack and devour the larger kinds when he
can get hold of them ; but as he is somewhat
slow, he can only seizf' most of them by stratagem.
It is a common belief that he lies in wait upon
trees and rocks to seize the deer passing beneath.
It has been also asserted that he places moss,
such as these animals feed upon, under his perch,
in order to entice them within reach ; and it has
been still further asserted, that the arctic foxes
assist him in his plans, by hunting the deer
towards the spot where he lies in wait, thus
acting as his jackals. These assertions have been
made more particularly about his European cousin,
the "glutton," about whom other stories are told
equally strange — one of them, that he eats until
scarce able to walk, and then draws his body
through a narrow space between two trees, in

190

A PAIR OP DEEP DIVERS.

order to relieve himself and get ready for a fresh
meal. Buifon and others have given credence to
these tales upon the authority of one " Olaus
Magnus," whose name, from the circumstance,
might be translated " great fibber." There is
no doubt, however, that the glutton is one of
the most sagacious of animals, and so, too, is the
wolverene. The latter gives proof of this by many
of his habits ; one in particular fully illustrates
his cunning. It is this. The marten trappers of
the Hudson Bay territory set their traps in the
snow, often extending over a line of fifty miles.
These traps are constructed out of pieces of wood
found near the spot, and are baited with the
head^ of partridges, or pieces of venison, of which
the marten {Mustela martes) is very fond. As
soon as Ihe marten seizes the bait, a trigger is
touched, and a heavy piece of wood falling upon
the animal, crushes or holds it fast. Now the
wolverene enters the trap from behind, tears
the back out of it before touching the bait, and
thua avoids the falling log ! Moreover, he will
follow the tracks of the trapper from one to
another, until he has destroyed the whole hne.
Should a marten happen to have been before him,

A PAIR OF DEEP DIVERS.

191

and got caught in the trap, he rarelv ever eats it, as
he is not fond of its flesh. But he is not satisfied to
leave it as he finds it. He usually digs it from under
the log, tears it to pieces, and then buries it under
the snow. The foxes, who are well aware of this
habit, and who themselves greedily eat the marten,
are frequently seen following him upon such ex-
cursions. They are not strong enough to take the
log from off the trapped animal, but from their keen
scent can soon find it where the other has buried it
in the snow. In this way, instead of their being
providers for the wolverene, the reverse is the true
stbry. Notwithstanding, the wolverene will eat
them too, whenever he can get his claws upon them;
but as they are much swifter than he, this seldom
happens. The foxes, however, are themselves
taken in traps, or more commonly shot by guns
set for the purpose, with the bait attached by a

string to the trigger. Often the wolverene, finding
the foxes dead or wounded, makes a meal of them
before the hunter comes along to examine his traps
and guns. The wolverene kills many of the foxes
while young, and sometimes on finding their bur-
row, widens it with his strong claws, and eats
the whole family in their nests. Even young

(

S'i

''''•mmmmm^imsmmmmfmm^.

192

A PAIR OF DEEP DIVERS.

I. ■

.lij

wolves sometimes become his prey. He lives, in
fact, on very bad terms with both foxes and wolves,
and often robs the latter of a fat deer which they
may have just killed, and are preparing to dine
upon. The beaver, however, is his favourite food,
and but that these creatures can escape him by
taking to the water — in which element he is not
at all at home — he would soon exterminate their
whole race. His great strength and acute scent
enable him to overcome almost every wild creature
of the forest or prairie. He is even said to be
a full match for either the panther or the black
bear. •

The wolverene lives in clefts of rock, or in
hollow trees, where such are to be found ; but he
is equally an inhabitant of the forest and the
prairie. He is found in fertile districts, as well
as in the most remote deserts. His range is
extensive, but he is properly a denizen of the cold
and snowy regions. In the southern parts of the
United Sta.^s he is no longer known, though it is
certain that he once lived there when those coun-
tries were inhabited by the beaver. North of
latitude 40° he ranges perhaps to the pole itself,
as traces of him have been found as far as man

A PAIR OP DEEP DIVERS.

193

has yet penetrated. He is a solitary creature,
and, like most predatory animals, a nocturnal
prowler. The female brings forth two, sometimes
three and four, at a birth. The cubs are of a cream
colour, and only when full-grown acquire that
dark-brown hue, which in the extreme of winter
often passes into black. The fur is not unlike
that of the bear, but is shorter-haired, and of less
value than a bear-skin. Notwithstanding, it is
an article of trade with the Hudson's Bay Com-
pany, who procure many thousands of the skins
annually.

The Canadian voyageurs call the wolverene
" carcajou ;" while among the Orkney and Scotch
servants of the Hudson's Bay Company he is
oftener known as the " quickhatch." It is sup-
posed that both these names are corruptions of the
Cree word okee-coo-haw-gew (the name of the
wolverene among the Indians of that tribe).
Many words from the same language have been
adopted by both voyageurs and traders.

Those points in the natural history of the
wolverene, that might be called scientific^ were
imparted by Lucien, while Norman furnished the
information about its habits. Norman knew the

,■*■>'' -,7«wi'- 'r.'

"wj'TF«i"-n- ]|,Tt .TK-vr; wfcTT"ni

194

A PAIR OF DEEP DIVERS.

animal as one of the most common in the " trade " ;
and in addition to what we have recorded, also
related many adventures and stories current among
the voyageurs, in which this creature figures in
quite as fanciful a manner, as he does in the
works either of Olaus Magnus, or Count de
Buffon.

A GRAND SUNDAY DINNER.

195

CHAPTER XVI.

V A GRAND SUNDAY DINNER.

After remaining a day at their first camp on the
lake, our voyageurs continued their journey. Their
course lay a little to the west of north, as the edge
of the lake trended in that direction. Their usual
plan, as already stated, was to keep out in the
lake far enough to shun the numerous indentations
of the shore, yet not so far as to endanger their
little craft when the wind was high. At night
they always landed, either upon some point or on
an island. Sometimes the wind blew " dead ahead,"
and then their day's journey would be only a few
miles. When the wind was favourable they made
good progress, using the skin of the wapiti for a
sail. On one of these days they reckoned a
distance of over forty miles from camp to camp.
It was their custom always to lie by on Sunday,

196

A GRAND SUNDAY DINNER.

1 1 K ■

for our young voyageurs were Christians. They
had done so on their former expedition across the
Southern prairies, and they had found the practice
to their advantage in a physical as well as a
moral sense. They required the rest thus ob-
tained ; besides, a general cleaning up is neces-
sary, at least, once every week. Sunday was also
a day of feasting with them. They had more time
to devote to culinary operations, and the cuisine of
that day was always th most varied of the week.
Any extra delicacy obtained by the rifle on previous
days, was usually reserved for the Sunday's dinner.
On the first Sunday after entering Lake Winni-
peg the "camp" chanced to be upon an island. It
was a small island, of only a few acres in extent.
It lay near the shore, and was well wooded over its
whole surface with trees of many different kinds.
Indeed, islands in a large lake usually have a great
variety of trees, as the seeds of all those sorts that
grow around the shores are carried thither by the
waves, or in the crops of the numerous birds that
flis over its waters. But as the island in question
h.7 in a lake, whose shores exhibited such a varied
geology, it was natural the vegetation of the island
itself should be varied. And, in truth, it was so.

< (

A GRAND SUNDAY DINNER.

J 97

There were upon it, down by the water's edge,
willows and cottonwoods (JPopulus angulata), the
characteristic si/lva of the prairie land ; there were
birches and sugar-maples (Acer saccharinum); and
upon some higher ground, near the centre, appeared
several species that belonged more to the primitive
formations that bounded the lake oh the east.
These were pines and spruces, the juniper, and
tamarack or American larch (Laryx Americana) ;
and among others could be distinguished the dark
cone-shaped forms of the red cedar trees. Among
the low bushes and shrubs there were rose
and wild raspberry ; there were apple and plum
trees, and whole thickets of the "Pembina"
( Viburnum oxycoccos). There is, in fact, no
part of the world where a greater variety of wild
fruit has been found indigeiAous than upon the
banks of the Red River of the North, and this
variety extended to the little island where our
voyageurs had encamped.

The camp had been placed under a beautiful
tree — the tacamahac, or balsam poplar {Popultes
balsamiferd). This is one of the finest trees of
America, and one of those that extend farthest north
into the cold countries. In favourable situations it

. 4

198

A GRAND SUNDAY DINNER.

attains a height of one hundred and fifty feet, with
a proportionate thickness of trunk ; but it is oftener
only fifty or eighty feet high. Its leaves are oval,
and, when young, of a rich yellowish colour, which
changes to a bright green. The buds are very
large, yellow, and covered with a varnish, which
exhales a delightful fragrance, and gives to the
tree its specific name.

It was near sunset on the afternoon of Saturday ;
the travellers had just finished their repast, and
were reclining around a fire of red cedar, whose
delicate smoke curled up among the pale-green
leaves of the poplars. The fragrant smell of the
burning wood, mixed with the aromatic odour of
the balsam-tree, filled the air with a sweet perfume,
and, almost without knowing why, our voyageurs
felt a sense of pleasure stealing over them. The
woods of the little island were not without their
voices. The scream of the jay was heard, and his
bright azure wing appeared now and then among
the foliage. The scarlet plumage of the cardinal
grosbeak flashed under the beams of the setting
sun ; and the trumpet-note of the ivory-billed
woodpecker was heard near the centre of the
island. An osprey was circling in the air, with

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199

his eye bent on the water below, watching for his
finny prey ; and a pair of bald eagles {^HalicBtus
leucocephalus) were winging their way towards
the adjacent mainland. Half-a-dozen turkey vul-
tures {Cathartes atratus) were wheeling above the
beach, where some object, fish or carrion, had been
thrown up by the waves.

For some time the party remained silent, each
contemplating the scene with feelings of pleasure.
Francois, as usual, first broke the silence.

" I say, cook, what's for dinner to-morrow ?"

It was to Lucien this speech was addressed.
He was regarded as the maitre de cuisine.

"Roast or boiled — which would you prefer?"
asked the cook, with a significant smile.

" Ha ! ha ! ha ! " laughed Fran9ois ; " boiled,
indeed ! a pretty boil we could have in a tin cup,
holding less than a pint. I wish we could have a
boiled joint and a bowl of soup. I'd give some-
thing for it. I'm prefcious tired of this everlasting
dry roast."

" You shall have both," rejoined Lucien, " for
to-morrow's dinner. I promise you both the soup
and the joint."

Agfiin Fran9oi8 laughed incredulously.

mmm

200

A GRAND SUNDAY DINNER.

V. " Do you mean to make soup in your shoe,
Luce?"

" No ; but I shall make it in this."

And Lucien held up a vessel somewhat like a
water-pail, which the day before he had himself
made out of birch-bark.

" Well," replied Fran9ois, " I know you have
got a vessel that holds water, but cold water ain't
soup ; and if you can boil water in that vessel, I'll
believe you to be a conjuror. I know you can do
some curious things with your chemical mixtures ;
but that you can't do, Tm sure. Why, man, the
bottom would be burned out of your bucket before
the water got blood-warm. Soup, indeed ! "

" Never mind, Frank, you shall see. You're
only like the rest of mankind — incredulous about
everything they can't comprehend. If you'll take
your hook and line, and catch some fish, I promise
to give you a dinner to-morrow, with all the regu-
lar courses — soup, fish, boildd, roast, and dessert,
too ! I'm satisfied I can do all that."

" Parbleu! brother, you should have been cook
to LucuUus. Well, I'll catch the fish for you."

So saying, Francois took a fish-hook and line
out of his pouch, and fixing a large grasshopper

A GRAND SUNDAY DINNER.

201

upon the hook, stepped forward to the edge of the
water, and cast it in. The float was soon seen to
bob and then sink, and Fran9ois jerked his hook
ashore with a small and very pretty fish upon it
of a silver hue, with which the lake and the
waters running into it abound. Lucien told him it
was a fish of the genus Hyodon. He also advised
him to bait with a worm, and let his bait sink to
the bottom, and he might catch a sturgeon, which
would be a larger fish.

" How do you know there are sturgeon in the
lake?" inquired Francois.

" I am pretty sure of that," answered the natu-
ralist ; " the sturgeon {Acipenser) is found all
round the world in the northern temperate zone
— both in its seas and fresh waters ; although,
when you go farther south into the warmer climate,
no sturgeons exist. I am sure there are some here,
perhaps more than one species. Sink your bait, for
the sturgeon is a toothless fish, and feeds upon soft
substances at the bottom."

Fran9ois followed the advice of his brother, and
in a few minutes he had a " nibble," and drew up
and landed a very large fish, full three feet in
length. Lucien at once pronounced it a stur-

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202

A GRAND SUNDAY DINNER.

gcon, but of a species he had not before seen.
It was the Acipenser carbonarius^ a curious sort
of fish found in these waters. It did not look like
a fish that would be pleasant eating; therefore
Fran9ois again took to bobbing for the silver fish
{Hyodons\ which, though small, he knew to be
excellent when broiled.

" Come," said Basil, " I must furnish my quota
to this famous dinner that is to be. Let me see
what there is on the island in the way of game ;"
and shouldering his rifle, he walked off among
the trees.

" And I," said Norman, " am not going to eat the
produce of other people's labour without con-
tributing my share."

So the young trader took up his gun and went
off in a different direction.

"Good!" exclaimed Lucicn, " we are likoly to
have plenty of meat for the dinner. I mr.at see
about the vegetables ;" and taking with him his new-
made vessel, Lucien sauntered off along the shore
of the islet. Francois alone remained by the camp,
and continued his fishing. Let us follow the plant-
hunter, and learn a lesson of practical botany.

Lucien had not gone far, when he came to what

A GRAND SUNDAY DINNER.

203

appeared to bo a mere sedge growing in the water.
The stalks or culms of this sedge wore full eight
feet high, with smooth leaves, an inch broad, nearly
a yard in length, and of a light green colour. At
the top of each stalk was a large panicle of seeds,
somewhat resembling a head of oats. The plant
itself was the famous wild rice (Zizania aquatica)^
so much prized by the Indians as an article of
food, and also the favourite of many wild birds,
especially the reed-bird or rice-bunting. The
grain of the zizania was not yet ripe, but the ears
were tolerably well filled, and Lucien saw that it
would do for his purpose. He therefore waded in,
and stripped oiF into his vessel as much as he wanted.

" I am safe for rice-soup, at all events," solilo-
quised he, "but I think I can do still better ;" and
he continued on around the shore, and shortly after
struck into some heavy timber that grew in a damp,
rich soil. He had walked about an hundred yards
farther, when he was seen to stoop and examine
some object on the ground.

"It ought to be found here," he muttered to
himself; "this is the very soil for it, — ^yes, here
we have it ! "

The object over which he was stooping was a

204

A GRAND SUNDAY DINNER.

■«>, i

plant, but its leaves appeared shrivelled, or rather
quite withered away. The upper part of a bulbous
root, however, was just visible above the surface.
It was a bulb of the wild leek {Allium tricoccum.)
The leaves, when young, are about six inches in
length, of a flat shape and often three inches broad ;
but, strange to say, they shrivel or die off very
early in the season, — even before the plant flowers,
and then it is difficult to find the bulb.

Lucien, however, had sharp eyes for such things ;
and in a short while he had rooted out several
bulbs as large as pigeons' eggs, and deposited them
in his birchen vessel. He now turned to go back to
camp, satisfied with what he had obtained. He
had the rice to give consistency to his soup, and
the leek-roots to flavour it with. That would be
enough.

As he wa? walking over a piece of boggy
ground his eye was attracted to a singular plant,
whose tall stem rose high above the grass. It was
full eight feet in height, and at its top there was
an umbel of conspicuous white flowers. Its leaves
were large, lobed, and toothed, and the stem itself
was over an inch in diameter, with furrows running
longitudinally. Lucien had never seen the plant

A GRAND SUNDAY DINNER.

205

before, although he had often heard accounts of it,
and he at once recognised it from its botanical
description. It was the celebrated "cow parsnip"
(^Heracleum lanatuni). Its stem was jointed and
hollow, and Lucien had heard that the Indians
called it in their language "flute stem," as they
often used it to make their rude musical instru-
ments from, and also a sort of whistle or " call," by
which they were enabled to imitate and decoy
several kinds of deer. But there was another use
to which the plant was put, of which the naturalist
was not aware. Norman, who had been wandering
about, came up at this moment, and seeing Lucien
standing by the plant, uttered a jo\ful " HuUoh !"

"Well," inquired I iucien, " what pleases you, coz ?"

" Why, the flute-stem, of course. You talked of
making a soup. It will help you, I fancy."

" How ?" demanded Lucien.

" Why, the young stems are good eating, and the
roots, if you will ; but the young shoots are better.
Both Indians and voyageurs eat them in soup, and are
fond of them. It's a famous thing, I assure you."

" Let us gather some, then," said Lucien j and
the cousins commenced cutting off such stems as
were still young and tender. As soon as they had

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206

A GRAND SUNDAY DINNER.

obtained enough, they took their way back to the
camp. Basil had abeady arrived with a fine prairie
hen ( Tetruc cupido) which he had shot, and Sandy
had brought back a squirrel ; so that, with Fran9ois'3
fish, of which a sufiicient number had been caught,
Lucien was likely to be able to keep his promise
about the dinner.

Fran9ois, however, could not yet comprehend
how the soup was to be boiled in a wooden pot ;
and, indeed, Basil was unable to guess. Norman,
however, knew well enough, for he had tra-
velled through the country of the Assinoboil In-
dians, who take their name from this very thing.
He had also witnessed the operation performed by
Crees, Chippewas, and even voyageurs, where
metal or earthen pots could not be obtained.

On the next day the mystery was cleared up to
Bas" u J i • ngois. Lucien first collected a number
of stone —about as large as paving-stones. He
chose such as were hard and smooth. These he
flung into the cinders, where they soon became red-
hot. The water and meat were now put into the
bark pot, and then one stone after another, — each
being taken out as it got cooled, — until the water
came to a fierce boil. The rice and other ingredi-

^ .-■

A GRAND SUNDAY DINNER.

207

ents were added at the proper time, and in a short
while an excellent soup was made. So much, then,
for the soup, and the boiled dishes with vegetables.
The roast, of course, was easily made ready upon
green -wood spits, and the "game" was cooked in
a simili*r way. The fish were broiled upon the red
cinder"^, and eaten, as is usual, after the soup.
Th* <£• >v !« no puddings or pies, though, no doubt,
liucieii could have made suc^i had they been wanted.
In their pliice there was an excellent service of
fruit. There were strawberries and raspberries,
one sort of which found wild in this region is of
a most delicious flavour. There were gooseberries
and currants ; but the most delicious fruit, and
that which Fran9ois liked best, was a small berry
of a dark blue (• ' ..ir, not unlike the huckleberry,
but much swfr '3i'^T r.;d of higher flavour. It grows
on a low bush or i'.rub with ovate leaves ; and this
bush vrhen it blossomd is so covered with beautiful
white flowers, that neither leaves nor branches can
be seen. There are no less than four varieties of
it known, two of which attain to the height of
twen:-' feet .)• more. The French Canadians call
it " poire,*' -.i in most parts of America it is
known as the "service-berry," although several

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208

A GRAND SUNDAY DINNER.

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other names are given to it in different districts.
Lucien informed his companions, while they were
crushing its sweet purplish fruit between their
teeth, that its botanical name is Amelanchier.

" Now," remarked Fran9ois, " if we only had a
cup of coffee and a glass of wine, we might say
that we had dined in fashioj style."

" I think," replied Lucien, " w o are better with-
out the wine, and as for the other I cannot give
you that, but I fancy I can provide you with a
cup of tea if you only allow me a little time."

"Tea !" screamed Frangois ; "why, there's not
a leaf of tea nearer than China ; and for the sugar,
not a grain within hundreds of miles !"

"Come, Frank," said Lucien, "nature has not
been so ungenerous here, — even in such luxuries
as tea and sugar. Look yonder ! You see those
large trees with the dark-coloured trunks. What
are they ?"

" Sugar-maples," replied Fran9ois.

" Well," said Lucien, " I think even at this late
season we might contrive to extract sap enough
from them to sweeten a cup of tea. You may try,
while I go in search of the tea-plant."

"Upon my word, Luce, you are equal to a

A GRAND SUNDAY DINNER.

209

'hat

f-ry*

wholesale grocery. Very well. Come, Basil, we*ll
tap the maples ; let the captain go with Luce."

The boys, separating into pairs, walked off in
different directions. Lucien and his companion
soon lighted upon the object of their search in the
same wet bottom where they had procured the
Heracleum. It was a branching shrub, not over
two feet in height, with small leaves of a deep
green colour above, but whitish and woolly under-
neath. It is a plant well known throughout most
of the Hudson's Bay territory by the name of
" Labrador tea-plant ; " and is so called because the
Canadian voyageurs, and other travellers through
these northern districts, often drink it as tea. It
is one of the EricacecBy or heath tribe, of the genus
Ledum — though it is noL a true heath, as, strange to
say, no true heath is found upon the continent of
America.

There are two kinds of it known, — the "narrow-
leafed" and "broad-leafed;" and the former makes
the best tea. But the pretty white flowers of the
plant are better for the purpose than the leaves of
either variety; and these it was that were now
gathered by Lucien and Norman. They require to
be dried before the decoction is made ; but this can

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210

A GRAND SUNDAY DINNER.

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be done in a short time over a fire; and so in a
short time it was done, Norman having parched
them upon heated stones. Meanwhile Basil and
Fran9ois had obtained the sugar-water, and Lucien
haying washed his soup-kettle clean, and once
more made his boiling stones red-hot, prepared the
beverage; and then it was served out in the tin
cup, and all partook of it. Norman had drunk the
Labrador tea before, and was rather fond of it, but
his Southern cousins did not much relish it. Its
peculiar flavour, which somewhat resembles rhu-
barb, was not at all to the liking of Francois. All,
however, admitted that it produced a cheering effect
upon their spirits ; and, after drinking it, they felt
in that peculiarly happy state of mind which one
experiences after a cup of the real " Bohea."

THE MARMOTS OF AMERICA.

211

CHAPTER XVII.

THE MARMOTS OP AMERICA.

From such a luxurious dinner you may suppose
that our young voyageurs lived in prime style.
But it was not always so. They had their fasts
as well as feasts. Sometimes for days they had
nothing to eat but the jerked deer-meat. No
bread — no beer — no coffee, nothing but water-
dry venison and water. Of course, this is food
enough for a hungry man; but it can hardly be
called luxurious living. Now and then a wild
duck, or a goose, or perhaps a young swan, was
shot ; and this change in their diet was very
agreeable. Fish were caught only upon occasions,
for often these capricious creatures refused Fran9oi8*
bait, however temptingly offered. After three
weeks' coasting the Lake, they reached the Sas-
katchewan, and turning up that stream, now tra-

', I

212

THE MABMOTS OF AMERICA.

'; |>

veiled in a due westerly direction. At th6 Grand
Bapids, near the mouth of this river, they were
obliged to make a portage of no less than three
miles, but the magnificent view of these "Rapids'*
fully repaid them for the toil they underwent in
passing them.

The Saskatchewan is one of the largest rivers in
America, being full 1600 miles in length, from its
source in the Rocky Mountains to its debouchure,
under the name of the " Nelson River," in Hudson's
Bay. For some distance above Lake Winnipeg,
the country upon its banks is well wooded. Far-
ther up, the river runs through dry sandy prairies
that extend westward to the foot-hills of the
Rocky Mountains. Many of these prairies may be
properly called " deserts." They contain lakes as
salt as the ocean itself, and vast tracts — ^hundreds of
square miles in extent — ^where not a drop of water
is to be met with. But the route of our voyageurs
did not lie over these prairies. It was their in-
tention, after reaching Cumberland House, to turn
again in a northerly direction.

One evening, when within two days* journey of
the Fort, they had encamped upon the bank of the
Saskatchewan. They had chosen a beautiful spot

THE MARMOTS OF AMERICA.

213

for their camp, where the country, swelling into
rounded hills, was prettily interspersed with
bushy copses of AmelanchierSy and Rosa hlanda
whose pale red flowers were conspicuous among
the green leaves, and filled the air with a sweet
fragrance, that was wafted to our voyageurs upon
the sunny breeze. The ground was covered with
a grassy sward enamelled by the pink flowers of
the Cleomey and the deeper red blossoms of the
beautiful wind-flower {Anemone). Upon that day
our travellers had not succeeded in killing any
game, and their dinner was likely to consist of
nothing better than dry venison scorched over the
coals. As they had been travelling all the morning
against a sharp current, and, of course, had taken
turn about at the paddles, they all felt fatigued,
and none of them was inclined to go in search of
game. They had flung themselves down around
the fire, and were waiting until the venison should
be broiled for dinner.

The camp had been placed at the foot of a
tolerably steep hill, that rose near the banks of the
river. There was another and higher hill facing
it, the whole front of which could be seen by
our travellers as they sat around their fire. While

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214

THE MARMOTS OF AMERICA.

glancing their eyes along its declivity, they noticed
a number of small protuberances or mounds
standing within a few feet of each other. Each of
them was about a foot in height, and of the form
of a truncated cone — that is, a cone wii^i its top
cut off, or beaten down.

" What are they ? " inquired Fran9ois.

" I fancy," answered Lucien, " they are marmot-
houses."

. " They are," affirmed Norman ; " there are plenty
of them in this country."

" Oh I marmots I " said Fran9ois. "Prairie-dogs,
you mean ? — the same we met with on the Southern
prairies i

" I think not," replied Norman : " I think the
prairie-dogs are a different sort. Are they not,
Cousin Luce ?"

" Yes, yes," answered the naturalist ; " these
must be a different species. There are too few of
them to be the houses of prairie-dogs. The * dogs'
live in large settlements, many hundreds of them
in one place; besides, their domes are somewhat
different in appearance from these. The mounds
of the prairie-dogs have a hole in the top or on
one side. These, you see, have not. The hole is

THE MAKMOTS OF AMERICA.

215

in the ground beside them, and the hill is in front,
made by the earth taken out of the burrow, just as
you have seen it at the entrance of a rat's hole.
They are marmots, I have no doubt, but of a di^
ferent species from the prairie-dog marmots."

" Are there not many kinds of marmots in
America ? I have heard so," said Fran9ois.

This question was of course addressed to
Lucien.

" Yes," answered he. " The fauna of North
America is peculiarly rich in species of these
singular animals. There are thirteen kinds of
them, weU known to naturalists ; and there are
even some varieties in these thirteen kinds that
might almost be considered distinct species. I
have no doubt, moreover, there are yet other
species which have not been described. Perhaps,
altogether, there are not less than twenty different
kinds of marmots in North America. As only one
or two species are found in the settled territories
of the United States, it was supposed, until lately,
that there were no others. Latterly the naturalists
of North America have been very active in their
researches, and no genus of animals has rewarded
them so well as the marmots — unless, perhaps, it

216

THE MARMOTS OF AMERICA.

' may be the squirrels. Almost every year a new
species of one or the other of these has been found
— mostly inhabiting the vast wilderness territories
that lie between the Mississippi and the Pacific
Ocean. *

" As regards the marmots, the closet-naturalists,
as usual, have rendered their history as complicated
and difiicult to be understood as possible. They
have divided them into several genera, because
one kind happens to have a larger tubercle upon its
tooth than another, or a little more curving in its
claws, or a shorter tail. It is true that in the
thirteen species some differ considerably from the
others in size, colour, and other respects. Yet, for
all that, there is such an identity, if I may so
express it, about the mode of life, the food, the
appearance, and habits of all the thirteen, that I
think it is both absurd and ill-judged to render the
study of them more difficult, by thus divi(?5ng them
into so many genera. They are all marmots, that
is what they are ; and why confound the study of
them by calling them spermophiles and arctomys,
and such-like hard names."

" I quite agree with you, Luce," said the
hunter, Basil, who, although not averse to the

THE MARMOTS OF AMERICA.

217

study of natural history (all hunters, I believe,
love it more or less), had no great opinion of the
closet-naturalists and " babblers about teeth," as ho
contemptuously called them.

" When a family of animals," continued Lucien,
" contains a great many species, and these species
differ widely from each other, I admit that it may
then be convenient and useful to class them into
genera, and sometimes even sub-genera ; but, on the
other hand, when there are only a few species, and
tl closely allied to each other, I think nothing
can be more ridiculous than this dividing and sub-
dividing, and giving such unpronounceable names
to them. It is this that renders the study difficult,
because even the committing to memory such a
string of unmeaning phrases is of itself no easy
task. Take, for example, such a phrase as

* Arctomys spermophilus Richardsoniif "^hich, al-
though nearly a yard long, means simply the

* tawny marmot.* Do not mistake me,'* continued
Lucien ; " I do not object to the use of the Greek
or Latin phraseology used in juch cases. Some
universal language must be adopted, so that the
naturalists of diflferent countries may understand
each other. But then this language should, when

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I V.""^ JIWFMP»^J ^■^^■1

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218

THE MABMOTS OP AMERICA.

Li r

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translated, describe the animal, by giving some of
its characteristics, and thus have a meaning. On
the contrary, it usually, when put into plain
English, gives us only the name — often a clumsy
and unpronounceable German one— of some obscure
friend of the author, or, as is not unfrequcntly the
case, some lordly patron for whom your closet-
naturalist entertains a flunkeyish regard, and avails
himself of this means of making it known to his
Maecenas. In my opinion," continued Lucien,
warming with the enthusiasm of a true naturalist,
" it is a most impertinent interference with the
beautiful things of Nature — her birds and quadru-
peds, her plants and flowers — to couple them with
the names of kings, princes, lords, and lordlings,
who chance to be the local gods of some closet-
naturalist. It is these catalogue-makers who
generally multiply synonymes bo as to render
science unintelligible. Sitting in their easy-chaiis
they know little or nothing of the habits of the
animals about which they write ; and therefore, to
write something original, they multiply names, and
give measurements ad injinitum, and this among
them constitutes a science. I do not, of course,
include among these the man whose name is given —

■■.,■..:«

THE MARMOTS OF AMERICA.

,219

Richardson. No ; he was a true naturalist, who
travelled and underwent hardships to earn the high
name which he bears and so well deserves."

" Brother Luce," said Basil, " you grow excited
upon this subject, and that is something of a rarity
to see. I agree with you, however, in all you
have said. Previous to our leaving home I read
several books upon natural history. They were
the works of distinguished closet-naturalists. Well,
I found that all the information they contained
about the animals of these Northern regions — at
least, all that could be called information — I had
read somewhere before. After thinking for awhile
I recollected where. It was in the pages of the
traveller Hearne — a man who, hinong these scien-
tific gentlemen, is considered only in the light of a
rude traveller, and not deserving the name of
naturalist. Hearne journeyed to the Arctic Sea so
eaily as the year 1771 ; and to him the world is
indebted for their first knowledge of the fact that
there was no strait across the Continent south
of the seventieth parallel of latitude."

" Yes," said Lucien, " he waj sent out by the
Hudson's Bay Company, perhaps more scantily
furnished than any explorer ever was before. He

^mm^pinpiip;imnw"iiu u jii !»m

220

THE MARMOTS OP AMERICA.

', 1

underwent the most dreadful hardships and perils,
and has left behind him an account of the inha-
bitants and natural history of these parts, so full
and so truthful, that it has not only stood the test
of subsequent observation, but the closet-naturalists
have added but little to it ever since. Most of
them have been satisfied vt^ith giving just what
poor Hearne had gathered — as, in fact, they knew
nothing more, and could not, therefore, add any-
thing. Some of them have quoted his own words,
and given him the credit of his vast labour ; while
others have endeavoured to pass off Hearne's know-
ledge as their own, by giving a slightly altered
paraphrase of his language. This sort of thing,"
said Lucien, " makes me indignant."

" It's downright mean," interposed Norman. "All
of us in this country have heard of Hearne. He
was a right hardy traveller, and no mistake about
it,"

" Well, then," said Lucien, cooling down, and.
resuming the subject of the marmots, " these little
animals seem to form a link between the squirrels
and rabbits. On the side of the squirrels they
very naturally join on, if I may use the expres-
sion, to the ground-squirrel, and some of them,

ft -■- ■ ■, !*-\-

THE MARMOTS OP AMERICA.

221

differ but little in their habits from many of the
latter. Other species, again, are more allied to
the rabbits, and less like the squirrels ; and
there are two or three kinds that I should say —
using a Yankee expression — have a ' sprinkling*
of the rat in them. Some, as the ground-hog,
or wood-chuck of the United States, are as large
as rabbits, vrhile cl!-3rs, as the leopard -mar-
mot, are not bigger than Norway rats. Some
species have cheek-pouches, in which they can
carry a large quantity of seeds, nuts, and roots,
when they wish to hoard them up for future use.
These are the spermophiles, and some species of
these have more capacious pouches than others.
Their food differs somewhat, perhaps according to
the circumstances in which they may be placed.
In all cases it is vegetable. Some, as the prairie-
dogs, live upon grasses, while others subsist chiefly
upon seeds, berries, and leaves. It was long sup-
posed that the marmots, like the squirrels, laid up
stores against the winter. I believe this is not the
case with any of the different species. I know for
certain that most of them pass the winter in a state
of torpidity, and of course require no provisions, as
they eat nothing during that season. In this we

! i

222

THE MARMOTS OP AMERICA.

observe one of those cases in which Nature so beau-
tifully adapts a creature to its circumstances. In
the countries where many of the marmots are
found, so severe are the winters, and so barren
the soil, that it would be impossible for these crea-
tures to get a morsel of food for many long months.
Daring this period, therefore, Nature suspends her
functions, by putting them into a deep, aud, for
aught we know to the contrary, a pleasant sleep.
It is only when the snow melts, under the vernal
sun, and the green blades of grass and the spring
flowers array themselves on the surface of the
earth, that the little marmots make their appearance
again. Then the warm air, penetrating into their
subterranean abodes, admonishes them to awake
from their protracted slumber, and come forth to
the enjoyment of their summer life. These ani-
mals may be said, therefore, to have no winter.
Their life is altogether a season of sununer and
sunshine.

" Some of the marmots," continued Lucien, " live
in large communities, as the prairie-dogs ; others,
in smaller tribes, while still other species lead a
solitary life, going only in pairs, or at most in
families. Nearly all of them are burrowing ani-

( ;

THE MARMOTS OF AMERICA.

223

IS,

la
in

mals, though thero are one or two species that are
satisfied with a cleft in the rock, or a hole among
loose St.nes for their nests. Some of them are
tree-climbers, but it is supposed they only ascend
trees in search of food, as they do not make their
dwellings there. Many of the species are very pro-
lific, the females bringing forth eight, and even
ten young at a birth.

" The marmots are extremely shy and watchful
creatures. Before going to feed, they usually re-
connoitre the ground from the tops of their little
mounds. Some species do not have such mounds,
and for this purpose ascend any little hillock that
may be near. Nearly all have the curious habit of
placing sentries to watch while the rest are feed-
ing. These sentries station themselves on some
commanding point, and when they see an enemy
approaching give warning to the others by a pecu-
liar cry. In several of the species this cry re-
sembles the syllables *seek-seek* repeated with a
hiss. Others bark like * toy-dogs,' while still other
kinds utter a whistling noise, from which one
species derives its trivial name of * whistler' among
the traders, and is the * siffleur ' of the Canadian
voyageurs.

acs

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I.

224

THE MARMOTS OF AMERICA.

V «;

lit

" The * whistler's' call of alarm can be heard at
a great distance ; and when uttered by the sentinel
is repeated by all the others as far as the troop
extends.

" The marmots are eaten both by Indians and
white hunters. Sometimes they are captured by
pouring water into their burrows ; but this method
only succeeds in early spring, when the animals
awake out of their torpid state, and the ground is
still frozen hard enough to prevent the water from
filtering away. They are sometimes shot with
guns ; but, unless killed upon the spot, they will
escape to their burrows, and tumble in before the
hunter can lay his hands upon them."

THE BLAIREAU, ETC.

225

CHAPTER XVIII.

THE BLAIREAU, THE " TAAVNIES," AND THE
" LEOPARDS."

Perhaps Lucien would have carried his account
of the marmots still farther — for he had not told
half what he knew of their habits — ^but he was
at that moment interrupted by the marmots them-
selves. Several of them appear /d at the mouths of
their holes ; and, after looking out and reconnoi-
tring for some moments, became bolder, and ran up
to the tops of their mounds, and began to scatter
along the little beaten paths that led from one
to the other. In a short while as many as a
dozen could be seen moving about, jerking their
tails, and at intervals uttering their " seek-seek."

Our voyageurs saw that there were two kinds of
theui, entirely different in colour, size,, and other
respects. The larger ones were of a greyish yel-
low above, with an orange tint upon the throat

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226

THE BLAIREAU, THE " TAWNIES,"

and belly. These were the "tawny marmots,"
called sometimes " ground-squirrels," and by the
voyageurs, "siffleurs," or "whistlers." The other
species seen were the most beautiful of all the
marmots. They were very little smaller than the
tawny marmots ; but their tails were larger and more
slender, which rendered their appearance more grace-
ful. Their chief beauty, however, lay in their colours
and markings. They were striped from the nose
to the rump with bands of yellow and chocolate
colour, which alternated with each other, while
the chocolate bands were themselves variegated by
rows of yellow spots regularly placed. These mark-
ings gave the animals that peculiar appearance so
well known as characterising the skin of the
leopard, hence the name of these little creatures
was "leopard marmots."

It was plain from their actions that both kinds
were "at home" among the mounds, and that both
had their burrows there. This was the fact, and
Norman told his companion that the two kinds are
always found together, not living in the same
houses, but only as neighbours in the same "set-
tlement." The burrows of the "leopard" have
much smaller entrances than those of their " tawny

AND THE " LEOPARDS.

227

kin," and run down perpendicularly to a greater
depth before branching off in a horizontal direc-
tion. A straight stick may be thrust down one of
these full five feet before reaching an " elbow." The
holes of the tawny marmots, on the contrary, branch
off near the surface, and are not so d-^ep under
ground. This guides us to the explanation of a
singular fact — which is, that the "tawnies" make
their appearance three weeks earlier in spring
than the "leopards," in consequence of the heat
of the sun reaching them sooner, and waking
them out of their torpid sleep.

While these explanations were passing among
the boys, the marmots had come out, to the
number of a score, and were carrying on their
gambols along the declivity of the hill. They
were at too great a distance to heed the move-
ments of the travellers by the camp fire. Besides,
a considerable valley lay between them and the
camp, which, as they believed, rendered their
position secure. They were not at such a dis-
tance but that many of their movements could be
clearly made out by the boys, who after a while
noticed that several furious battles were being
fought among them. It was not the "tawnies"

5SS9BB

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228

THE BLAIREAU, THE " TAWNIE8,"

against the others, but the males of each kind
in single combats with one another. They fought
like little cats, exhibiting the highest degree of
boldness and fury; but it was noticed that in these
conflicts the leopards were far more active and
spiteful than their kinsmen. In observing them
through his glass Lucien noticed that they fre-
quently seized each other by the tails, and he
further noticed that several of them had their
tails much shorter than the rest. Norman said
that these had been bitten off in their battles; and,
moreover, that it was a rare thing to find among
the males, or "bucks," as he called them, one
that had a perfect tail !

While these observations were being made, the
attention of our party was attracted to a strange
animal that was seen slowly crawling around the
hill. It was a creature about as big as an ordinary
setter dog, but much thicker in the body, shorter
in the legs, and shaggier in the coat. Its head was
flat, and its ears short and rounded. Its hair was
long, rough, and of a mottled hoary grey colour,
but dark-brown upon the legs and tail. The latter,
though covered with long hair, was short, and
carried upright ; and upon the broad feet of the ani-

r<C<

t.^^d£'^.

AND THE " LEOPARDS."

229

mal could be seen long and strong curving claws.
Its snout was sharp as that of a greyhound — though
not so prettily formed — and a white stripe, passing
from its very tip over the crown, and bordered by
two darker bands, gave a singular expression to
the animal's countenance. It was altogether, both
in form and feature, a strange and vicious-looking
creature. Norman recognised it at once as the
" blaireau," or American badger. The others
had never seen such a creature before — as it is not
an inhabitant of the South, nor of any part of the
settled portion of the United States, for the animal
there sometimes called a badger is the ground-
hog, or Maryland marmot {Arctomys monax).
Indeed, it was for a long time believed that no true
badger inhabited the Continent of America. ITow,
however, it is known that such exists, although it
is of a species distinct from the badger of Europe.
It is less in size than the latter, and its fur is
longer, finer, and lighter in colour ; but it is also
more voracious in its habits, preying constantly
upon mice, marmots, and other small animals, and
feeding upon carcasses, whenever it chances to meet
with such. It is an inhr.bitant of the sandy and
bp^rren districts, where it burrows the earth in such

230

THE BLAIREAU, THE " TAWNIES,** '

H )

£:

a manner that horses frequently sink and snap-
their legs in the hollow ground made by it. These
are not always the holes scraped out for its own
i-esidence, but the burrows of the marmots, which
the blaireau has enlarged, so that it may enter and
prey upon them. In this way the creature obtains
most of its food, but as the marmots lie torpid
during the winter months, and the ground above
them is frozen as hard as a rock, it is then impos-
sible for the blaireau to effect an entrance. At
this season it would undoubtedly starve had not
Nature provided against such a result, by giving it
the power of sleeping throughout the winter months
as well as the marmots themselves, which it does.
As soon as it wakes up and comes abroad, it begins
its campaign against these little creatures ; and
it prefers, above all others, the " tawnies," and the
beautiful " leopards," both of which it persecutes
incessantly.

The badger when first seen was creeping along
with its belly almost dragging the ground, and its
long snout projected horizontally in the direction of
the marmot " village.** It was evidently meditatirg
a surprise of the inhabitants. Now and then it
would stop, like a pointer dog when close to a

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and snap
it. These
or its own
lots, which
enter and
ire obtains
lie torpid
iind above
en impos-
mce. At
' had not
giving it ,
?r months
I it does,
it begins
•es J and
and the
3rsecutes

ig along
and its
iction of
ditatirig
then it
e to a

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AND THE " LEOPARDS."

231

partridge, reconnoitre a moment, and then go on
again. Its design appeared to be to get between
the marmots and their burrowp, intercept some of
them, and get a hold of them without the trouble
of digging them up^although that would be no
great affair to it, for so strong are its fore-arms
and claws that in loose soil it can make its way
under the ground as fast as a mole.

Slowiy and cautiously it stole along, its hind-feet
resting all their length upon the ground, its hideous
snout thrown forward, and its eyes glaring with a
voracious and hungry expression. It had got
within fifty paces of the marmots, and would, no
doubt, have succeeded in cutting off the retreat of
some of them, but at that moment a burrowing
owl (Strix cunicularid), that had been perched
upon one of the mounds, rose up, and commenced
hovering in circles above the intruder. This drew
the attention of the marmot sentries to their well-
known enemy, and their warning cry was followed
by a general scamper of both tawnies and leopards
towards their respective burrows.

The blaireau, seeing that further concealment
was no longer of any use, raised himself higher
upon his limbs, and sprang forward in pursuit.

ipiP"pp

n }

232

THE BLAIREAU, THE " TAWNIES,"

He was too late, however, as the marmots had all
got into their holes, and their angry " seek-seek,"
was heard proceeding from various quarters out
of the bowels of the earth. The blaireau only
hesitated long enough to select one of the burr6ws
, into which he was sure a marmot had entered ;
and then, setting himself to his work, he com-
menced throwing out the mould like a terrier. Li
a few seconds he was half buried, and his hind-
quarters and tail alone remained above ground.
He would soon have disappeared entirely, but at
that moment the boys, directed and headed by
Norman, ran up the hill, and seizing him by -the tail,
endeavoured to jerk him back. That, however;,
was a task which they could not accomplish, for
first one and then another, and then Basil and
Norman — ^who were both strong boys — pulled with
all their might, and could not move him. Norman
cautioned them against letting him go, as in a
moment's time ho would burrow beyond their
reach. So they held on until Fran9ois had got his
gun ready. This the latter soon did, and a load of
small shot was fired into the blaireau's hips, which,
although it did not quite kill him, caused him to
back out of the hole, and brought him into the

. '

AND THE " LEOPARDS.

238

■»"^

clutches of Marfipgo. A desperate straggle ensued,
which ended by the bloodhound doubling his vast
black muzzle upon the throat of the blaireau, and
choking him to death in less than a dozen seconds ;
and then his hide — the only part which was
deemed of any value — was taken off and carried
to the camp. The carcass was left upon the face
of the nill, and the red shining object was soon
espied by the buzzards and turkey vultures, so
that in a few minutes' time several of these filthy
birds were seen hovering around, and alighting
upon the hill.

But this was no new sight to our young voy-
ageurs, and soon ceased to be noticed by them.
Another bird, of a different kind, for a short time
engaged their attention. It was a large hawk,
which Lucien, as soon as he saw it, pronounced
to be one of the kind known as buzzards (Buteo).
Of these there are several species in North America,
but it is not to be supposed that there is any re-
semblance between them and the buzzards just
mentioned as having alighted by the carcass of the
blaireau. The latter, commonly called " turkey buz-
zards," are true vultures, and feed mostly, though
not exclusively, on carrion ? while the "^^ hawk buz-

'^mmmmmmmnil^

234

THE BLAIBEAU, THE " TAWNIES,"

zards" have all the appearance and general habits
of the rest of the falcon tribe.

The one in question, Lucien said, was the
"marsh-hawk," sometimes also called the "hen-
harrier" (Falco uliginosus). Norman stated that it
was known among the Indians of these parts as
the " snake-bird," because it preys upon a species
of small green snake that is common on the
plains of the Saskatchewan, and of which it is
fonder than of any other food.

The voyageurs were not long in having evidence
of the appropriateness of the Indian appellation ; for
these people, like other savages, have the good
habit of giving names that express some quality
or characteristic of the thing itself. The bird
in question was on the wing, and from its
movements evidently searching for game. It
sailed in easy circlings near the surface, quar-
tering the ground like a pointer dog. It flew
so lightly that its wings were not seen to move,
and throughout all its wheelings and turn-
ings it appeared to be carried onwards or up-
wards by the power of mere volition. Once or
twice its course brought it directly over the camp,
and Fran9ois had got hold of his gun, with the

AND THE " LEOPAFDS."

235

/ intention of bringing it down, but on each occasion
it perceived his motions ; and, soaring up like a
paper-kite until out of reach, it passed over the
camp, and then sank down again upon the other
side, and continued its "quarterings" as before.
For nearly half-an-hour it went on manoeuvring
in this way, when all at once it was seen to
make a sudden turning in the air as it fixed its
eyes upon some object in the grass. The next
moment it glided diagonally towards the earth,
and poising itself for a moment above the surface,
rose again with a small green-coloured snake
struggling in its talons. After ascending to some
height, it directed its flight towards a clump of
trees, and was soon lost to the view of our
travellers.

Lucien now pointed out to his companions a
characteristic of the hawk and buzzard tribe, by
which these birds can always be distinguished
from the true falcon. That peculiarity lay in the
manner of seizing their prey. The former skim
forward upon it sideways — that is, in a horizontal
or diagonal direction, and pick it up in passing ;
while the true falcons — as the merlin, the peregrine,
the gerfalcon, and the great eagle-falcons — shoot

236

THE BLAIBEAU, ETC.

down upon their prey perpendicularly like an
arrow, or a piece of falling lead.

He pointed out, moreover, hew the structure of
the different kinds of preying birds, such as the
size and form of the wings and tail, as Y'ell as
other parts, were in each kind adapted to its
peculiar mode of pursuing its prey ; and then
there arose a discussion as to whether this adapt-
ation should be considered a cause or an effect.
Lucien succeeded in convincing his companions
thAt the structure was the effect and not the
cause of :;iie habit, for the young naturalist was a
firm believer in the changing and progressive
system of nature.

AN ODD 80BT OF DECOT-DUCK.

237

v'.j;;-.

CHAPTER XIX.

AN ODD SORT OP DECOY-DUCK.

'<i

Two days after the adventure with the blaireau,
the young voyageurs arrived at Cumberland House
— one of the most celebrated posts of the Hudson's
Bay Company. The chief factor, who resided
there, was a friend of Norman's father, and of course
the youths were received with the warmest hospi-
tality, and entertained during their stay in the
best manner the place afforded. They did not
make a long stay, however, as they wished to
complete their journey before the winter should
set in, when canoe-travelling would become im-
possible. During winter, not only the lakes, but
the most rapid rivers of these Northern regions,
become frozen up, and remain so for many months.
Nearly the whole surface of the earth is buried
under deep snow, and travelling can only be done

mm-

238

AN ODD SORT OF DECOY-DUCK.

I ' '

ii«

III

' with snow-shoes, or with sledges drawn by dogs.
These are the modes practised hj the Indians,
the Esquimaux, and the few white traders and
trappers who have occasion in winter to pass from
one point to another of that icy and desolate
region.

Travelling under such circumstances is not only
difficult and laborious, but is extremely perilous.
Food cannot always be obtained — supplies fall sort,
or become exhausted — game is scarce, or cannot
be found at all, as at that season many of the
quadrupeds and most of the birds have forsaken
the country, and migrated to the South — and whole
parties of travellers — even Indians, who can eat
anything living or dead, roast or raw — often perish
from hunger.

Our travellers were well acquainted with these
facts ; and being anxious, therefore, to get to the
end of their journey before the winter should come
down upon them, made all haste to proceed.
Of course they obtained a new "outfit" at the
Fort J but they took with them only such articles
as were absolutely necessary, as they had many
portages to make before they could reach the
waters of the Mackenzie River. As it required

AN ODD SORT OF DECOY-DUCK.

239

two of the party to carry the canoe, with a few
little things besides, all the baggage was com-
prised in such loads as the others could manage ;
and of course that was not a great deal, for
Fran9ois was but a lad, and Lucien was far from
being in robust health. A light axe, a few
cooking utensils, with a small stock of provisions,
and of course their guns, formed the bulk of their
loads.

After leaving the Fort they kept for several
days* journey up the Saskatchewan. They then
took leave of that river, and ascended a small
stream that emptied into it from the north.
Making their first portage over a "divide," they
reached another small stream that ran in quite
a different direction, emptying itself into one of
the branches of the Missinippi, or Churchill River.
Following this in a north-westerly course, and
making numerous other portages, they reached
Lake La Crosse, and afterwards in succession. Lakes
Clear, Buffalo, and Methy. A long "portage"
from the last-mentioned lake brought them to the
head of a stream known as the " Clear Water ;" and
launching their canoe upon tliis, they floated down
to its mouth, and entered the main stream of

1 1

f* w i ny-mint pf' H I

......v^.i.A i\^Mm

240

AN ODD SORT OF DECOY-DUCK.

t< '

( k

F '

the Elk, or Athabasca, one of the most beautiful
rivers of America. They were now in reality
upon the waters of the Mackenzie itself, for the
Elk, after passing through the Athabasca Lake,
takes from thence the name of Slave River, and
having traversed Great Slave Lake, becomes the
Mackenzie — under which name it continues on to
the Arctic Ocean. Having got, therefore, upon
the main head-water of the stream which they
intended to traverse, they floated along in their
canoe with light hearts and high hopes. It is
true they had yet fifteen hundred miles to travel,
but they believed that it was all down-hill work
now ; and as they had still nearly two months of
summer before them, they doubted not being able
to accomplish the voyage in good time.

On they floated down stream, feasting their
eyes as they went — for the scenery of the Elk
valley is of a most picturesque and pleasing cha-
racter ; and the broad bosom of the stream itself,
studded with wooded islands, looked to our tra-
vellers more like a continuation of lakes than a
running river. Now they glided along without
using an oar, borne onward by the current ; then
they would take a spell at the paddles, while the

V •'*:-J^<

AN ODD SORT OP DECOY-DUCK.

241

beautiful Canadian boa -s6ng could be heard as it
came from the tiny craft, and the appropriate chorus
" Row, brothers, row ! " echoed from the adjacent
shores. No part of their journey was more pleasant
than while descending the romantic Elk.
• They found plenty of fresh provisions, both in
the stream itself and on its banks. They caught
salmon in the water, and the silver-coloured hyodon,
known among the voyageurs by the name of
" Dore." They shot both ducks and geese, and
roast-duck or goose had become an every-day dinner
with them. Of the geese there were several species.
There were " snow-geese," so called from their
beautiful white plumage ; and " laughing geese,"
that derive their name from the circumstance that
their call resembles the laugh of a man. The
Indians decoy these by striking their open hand
repeatedly over the mouth while uttering the
syllable " wah." They also saw the " Brent
goose," a well-known species, and the " Canada
goose," which is the wild goose par excellence.
Another species resembling the latter, called the
" barnacle goose," was seen by our travellers. Be-
Bides these, Lucien informed them that there were
several other , smaller kinds that inhabit the

m^iif^^m^

"'"'mK'wmmmmifi^^imwimmmmmmm

242

AN ODD SORT OP DECOY-DUCK.

1^1

northern countries of America. These valuable
birds are objects of great interest to the people of
the fur countries for months in the year. Whole
tribes of Indians look to them as a means of
support.

With regard to ducks, there was one species
which our travellers had not yet met with, and
for which they were every day upon the look-out.
This was the far-famed " canvass-back," so justly
celebrated among the epicures of America. None
of them had ever eaten of it, as it is not known
in Louisiana, but only upon the Atlantic coast
of the United States. Norman, however, had heard
of its existence in the Rocky Mountains — ^where it
is said to breed — as well as in other parts of the
fur countries, and they were in hopes that they
might fall in with it upon the waters of the Atha-
basca. Lucien was, of course, well acquainted
with its " biography," and could have recognised
one at sight ; and as they glided along he volun-
teered to give his companions some information,
not only about this particular species, but about
the whole genus of these interesting birds. . .

" The canvass-back," began he, " is perhaps the
most celebrated and highly-prized of all the ducksy

•rM-

AN ODD SORT OF DECOY-DUCK.

248 ^

on account of the exquisite flavour of its flesh —
which is thought by some epicures to be superior
to that of all other birds. It is not a large duck
— rarely weighing over three pounds — and its
plumage is far from equalling in beauty that of
many other species. It has a red or chestnut-
coloured head, a shining black breast, while the
greater part of its body is of a greyish colour ; but
upon close examination this grey is found to be
produced by a whitish ground minutely mottled
with zig-zag black lines. I believe it is this mot-
tling, combined with the colour, which somewhat
resembles the appearance and texture of ship's
canvass, that has given the bird its trivial name ;
but there is some obscurity about the origin of
this. In colour, however, it so nearly resembles the
' pochard,' or ' red-head ' of Europe, and its near
congener the red-head (A.ferina) of America, that
at a distance it is difiicult to distinguish them from
each other. The last-mentioned species is always
found associated with the canvass-backs, and are
even sold for the latter in the markets of New
York and Philadelphia. A naturalist, however,
can easily distinguish them by their bills and eyes.
The canvass-back has red eyes, with a greenisb

iU'

I i

r !

244

AN ODD SORT OP DECOY-DUCK-

black bill, nearly straight ; while the eyes of the
red-head are of an orange yellow, its bill bluish
and concave along the upper ridge.

" The canvass-back is known in natural history
9,s Anas valisneria, and this specific name is given
to it because it feeds upon the roots of an aquatic
plant, a species of ' tape-grass,' or ' eel-grass ;' but
botanically called ' Valisneria,* after the Italian
botanist, Antonio Yalisneri. This gra>«*H grows in
slow-flowing streams, -nid also on shoals by the sea-
side — wht*"p the watp^: from the influx of rivers,
is only brsiiekit^h. Tine water where ii grows
is usually -nhsm^ to five feet in depth, and the plant
itself rises above the -aarfftce to the heigkt of two
feet or more, ^tk grass-like leaves of a d(*ep green
colour. Its roots am^ TWEiite amd succulent, and bear
some resemblance ro tsiery — Alienee the plant is
known among the du«k-liumers as ' wild celery.'
It is upon these roots lflie ca2irvass-back almost ex-
clusively feeds, and they givt to the flesh of these
birds its peculiar and pleasaiE flavour. Wherever
the valisneria grows in quantity, as in the Chesa-
peake Bay and some rivers, like the Hudson,
there the canvass-backs resort, and are rarely seen
elsewhere. They do not eat the leaves but only

AN ODD SORT OF DECOY-DUCK.

245

the white soft roots, which they dive for and pluck-
up with great dexterity. The leaves when stripped
of ihe root are suffered to float off upon the surface
of the water ; and where the ducks have been
feeding, large quantities of them, under the name of
'grass wrsck,' are thrown by the wind and tide
upon the adjacent shores.

" Shooting the canvass-backs is a source of profit
to hundreds of gunners who liVe around the
Chesapeake Bay, as these birds command a high
price in the markets of the American cities. Dis-
putes have arisen between the fowlers of different
States around the Bay about the right of shooting
upon it ; and vessels full of armed men — ready to
make war upon one another — have gone out on
this account. But the government of these States
succeeded in settling the matter peacefully, and to
the satisfaction of all parties."

The canoe at this moment shot round a bend, and
a long smooth expanse of the river appeared be-
fore the eyes of our voyageurs. They could see
that upon one side another stream ran in, with a
very sluggish current ; and around the mouth of
this, and for a good stretch below it, there ap-
peare-. a green sedge-like water-grass, or rushes.

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246

AN ODD SORT OF DECOY-DUCK.

^(tar the border of this sedge, and in a part of
it that was thin, a flock of wild fowl was diving
and feeding. They were small, and evidently
ducks ; but the distance was yet too great for the
boys to make out to what species they belonged.
A single large swan — a trumpeter — was upon the
water, between the shore and the ducks, and was
gradually making towards the latter. Francois im-
mediately loadefl one of his barrels with swan, or
rather " buck" shot, and Basil looked to his rifle.
The ducks were not thought of — the trumpeter was
to be the game. Lucien took oat his telescope, and
commenced observing the flock. They had not
intended to use any precaution in approaching the
birds, as they were not extremely anxious about
getting a shot, and were permitting the canoe to
glide gently towards them. An exclamation from
Lucien, however, caused them to change their
tactics. He directed them suddenly to "hold
water" and stop the canoe, at the same time telling
them that the birds a-head were the very sort
about which they had been conversing — the " can-
vass-backs." He had no doubt of it, judging from
their colour, size, and peculiar movements.

The announcement produced a new excitement.

mmmm

mmmmmmmmm

AN ODD SORT OF DECOY-DUCK.

247

All four were desirous not only of shooting, but of
eating, a canvass-back ; and arrangements were set
about to effect the former. It was known to all
that the canvass-backs are among the shyest of
water-fowl, so much so that it is difficult to ap-
proach them unless under cover. While feeding,
it is said, they keep sentinels on the look-out.
Whether this be true or not, it is certain that they
never all dive together, some always remaining
above —t^r, and apparently watching while the
others are under. A plan to get near them was
necessary, and one was suggested by I^ ormr^n, which
was to tie bushes around the sides of the canoe, so
as to hide both the vessel and those in it. This
plan was at once adopted — the canoe was paddled
up to the bank — thick bushes were cut, and tied
along the gunwale ; and then our voyageurs climbed
in, and laying themselves as low as possible, com-
menced paddling gently downward in the dire^ ilon
of the ducks, The rifles were laid aside, as they
could be of little service with such game. Francois'
double-barrel was the arm upon which dependence
was now placed ; and Franijois himself leaned for-
ward in the bow in order to be ready, while the
others attended to the guidance of the vessel The

r -r

248

AN ODD SORT OP DECOY-DUCK.

buck-shot had been drawn out, and a smaller kind
substituted. The swan was no longer cared for or
even thought of.

In about a quarter of an hour's time, the canoe,
gliding silently along the edge of the sedge —
which was the wild celery ( Valisneria spiralis) —
came near the place where the ducks were ; and the
boys, peeping through the leafy screen, could now
see the birds plainly. They saw that they were
not all canvass-backy, but that three distinct kinds
of ducks were feeding together. One sort was the
canvass-backs themselves, and a second kind very
much resembled them, except that they were a size
smaller. These were the " red-heads " or " poch-
ards." The third species was different from either.
They had also heads of a reddish colour, but of
a brighter red, and marked by a white band that
ran from the root of the bill over the crown.
This mark enabled Lucien at once to tell the
species. They were widgeons (A. Americana) ;
but the most singular thing that was now observed
by our voyageurs was the terms upon which these
three kinds of birds lived with each other. It
appeared that the widgeon obtained its food by a
regular system of robbery and plunder perpetrated

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upon the community of the canvass-backs. The
latter, as Lucien had said, feeds upon the roots of
the valisneria; but for these it is obliged to dive to
the depth of four or five feet, and also to spend
some time at the bottom while pluckir,g them up.
Now the widgeon is as fond of the " celery" as
the canvass-back, but the former is not a diver —
in fact, never goes under water except when wash-
ing itself or in play, and it has therefore no means
of procuring the desired roots. Mark, then, the
plan that it takes to efiect this end. Seated as near
as is safe to the canvass-back, it waits until the
latter makes his somersault and goes down. It
(the widgeon) then darts forward so as to be suffi-
ciently close, and, pausing again, scans the surface
with eager eye. It can tell where the other is at
work, as the blades of the plant at which it is
tugging are seen to move above the water. These
at length disappear, pulled down as the plant is
dragged from its root, and almost at the same
instant the canvass -back comes up holding the root
between his mandibles. But the widgeon i» ready
for him. He has ealcoLEted the exaiCt spot viiere
the other wJ^I rise ; sand, before the latter can open
his eyes or get them clear of the water, the widgeon

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250

AN ODD SORT OP DECOY-DUCK.

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darts forward, snatches the luscious morsel from
his bill, and makes off with it. Conflicts sometimes
ensue ; but the widgeon, knowing himself to be the
lesser and weaker bird, never stands to give battle,
but secures his prize through his superior agility.
On the other hand, the canvass-back rarely attempts
to follow him, as he knows that the other is swifter
upon the water than he. He only looks after his
lost root with an air of chagrin, and then, reflecting
that there is "plenty more where it came from,"
kicks up its heels, and once more plunges to the
bottom.

The red-head rarely interferes with either, as he
is contented to feed upon the leaves and stalks, at
all times floating in plenty upon the surface.

As the canoe glided near, those on board watched
these curious manoeuvres of the birds with feelings
of interest. They saw, moreover, that the " trum-
peter" had arrived among them, and the ducks
seemed to take no notice of him. Lucien was struck
with something unusual in the appearance of the swan.
Its plumage seemed ruflled and on end, and it glided
along in a stiff and unnatural manner. It moved
its neck neither to one side nor the other, but held
its head bent forward, until its bill almost touched

AN ODD SORT OF DECOY-DUCK.

^ 251

tho water, in the attitude that these birds adopt
when feeding upon something near the surface.
Lucien said nothing to his 3ompanions, as they were
all silent, lest they might frighten the ducks ; but
Basil and Norman had also remarked the strange
look and conduct of the trumpeter. Fran9ois' eyes
were bent only upon the ducks, and he did not
heed the other.

As they came closer, first Lucien, and then
Basil and Norman, saw something else that puzzled
them. Whenever the swan approached any of the
ducks, these were observed to disappear under the
water. At first, the boys thought that they merely
dived to get out of his way, but it was not exactly
in the same manner as the others were diving for
the roots. Moreover, none of those that went
down in the neighbourhood of the swan were seen
to come up again I

There was something very odd in all this, and
the three boys, thinking so at the same time, were
about to communicate their thoughts to one another,
when the double crack of Frangois' gun drove the
thing, for a moment, out of their heads ; and they
all looked over the bushes to see how many canvass-
backs had been killed. Several were seen dead or

252

AN ODD SORT OF DECOY-DUCK.

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fluttering along the surface ; but no one counted
them, for a strange, and even terrible, object now
presented itself to the astonished senses of all. If
the conduct of the swan had been odd before, it
was now doubly so. Instead of flying off* after the
shot, as all expected it would do, it was now seen
to dance and plunge about on the water, uttering
loud screams, that resembled the human voice far
more than any other sounds ! Then it rose -s if
pitched into the air, and fell on its back some
distance off" ; while in its place was seen a dark,
round object moving through the water, as if
making for the bank, and uttering, as it went, the
sartie hideous human-like screams !

This dark object was no other than the poll of a
human being ; and the river shallowing towards
the bank, it rose higher and higher above the
water, until the boys could distinguish the glisten-
ing neck and naked shoulders of a red and brawny
Indian ! All was now explained. The Indian
had been duck-hunting, and had used the stuffed
skin of the swan as his disguise ; and hence the
puzzling motions of the bird. He had not noticed
the canoe — concealed as it was — until the loud crack
of Frangois' gun had startled him from his work.

mmt

AN ODD SORT OF DECOY-DUCK.

253

This, and the heads and white faces of the boys
peeping over the bushes, had frightened him, even
more than he had them. Perhaps they were the
first white faces he had ever seen. But, whether
or not, sadly frightened he was ; for, on reaching
the bank, he did not stop, but ran off into the
woods, howling and yelling as if Old Nick had been
after him : and no doubt he believed that such was
the case.

The travellers picked up the swan-skin out of
curiosity ; and, in addition to the ducks which
Fran9ois had killed, they found nearly a score of
these birds, which the Indian had dropped in his
fright, and that had afterwards risen to the sur-
face. Those were strung together, and all had
their necks broken.

After getting them aboard, the canoe was
cleared of the bushes ; and the paddles being
once more called into service, the little craft shot
down stream like an arrow.

r '

254

THE DUCKS OF AMERICA.

CHAPTER XX.

THE DUCKS OF AMERICA.

B/l

LuciEN now continued his "monograph" of the
American ducks.

" There are," said he, "more than two dozen
species of ducks on the waters of North America.
These the systematists have divided into no
less than eighteen general Why it would be
more eaay to learn all that ever was known about
all the ducks in creation, than to remember the
eighteen generic names which these gentlemen have
invented and put forward. Moreover, the habits
of any two species of these ducks are more similar
than those of any two kinds of dogs. Why then, I
should ask — why this complication ? It is true
that the ducks do not resemble each other in every
thing. Some species are fonder of water than
others. Some feed entirely upon vegetable sub-

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THE DrCKS OP AMERICA.

255

stances ; others upon small fish, insects, Crus-
tacea, Ac. Some live entirely in the sea ; others
make their home in the fresh-water lakes and
rivers, while many species dwell indifferently,
either in salt or fresh waters. Some love the
' open wave ; others the sedgy marsh ; while one or
two species roost upon trees, and build their nests
in the hollow trunks. Notwithstanding all this,
there is such a similarity in the appearance and
habits of the different species, that I think the
systematists have improved but little, if anything,
upon the simple arrangement of the true naturalist
Wilson, who — poor Scotch emigrd as he was,
with an empty purse and a loaded gun — has col-
lected more original information about the birds
of America than .all that have followed him. He
described the ducks of America under the single
genus Anas ; and, in my opinion, described them
in a more intelligent and intelligible manner than
any one has done since his time — not even except-
ing another great and true naturalist, whose career
has been longer, more successful, and happier ; and
whose fame, in consequence of his better fortune,
has become, perhaps, higher and more extended.
" The water-fowl of America," continued Lu-

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cien — " I mean the swans, geese, and ducks, are
of great importance in the fur countries where we
are now travelling. At certain seasons of the
year, in many parts, they furnish almost the only
article of food that can be procured. They are
all migratory — that is, when the lakes and rivers
of these regions become frozen over in the winter
they all migrate southward, but return again to
breed and spend the summer. They do this, per-
! haps, because these wild territories afford them
a better security during the season of incubation,
and afterwards of moulting. It is not very cer-
tain, however, that this is the reason, and for my
part I am inclined to think not, for there are also
wild, uninhabited territories enough in southern
latitudes, and yet they forsake these and migrate
north in the spring. * Their arrival in the fur
countries,' writes a distinguished naturalist, * marks
the commencement of spring, and diffuses as much
joy among the wandering hunters of the Arctic
regions, as the harvest or vintage excites in more
genial climes.' Both by the Indians and hunters
in the employ of the Hudson's Bay Company swans,
geese, and ducks, are slaughtered by thousands,
and are eaten not only when fresh killed, but

THE DUCKS OF AMERICA.

f 257

they are salted in large quantities, and so preserved
for winter use, when fresh ones can no longer be
procured. Of course, both Indian and white
hunters use all their art in killing or capturing
them ; and to effect this they employ many different
methods, as decoying, snaring, netting, and shooting
them : but Cousin Norman here could give a better
description of all these things than I. Perhaps
he will favour us with some account of them."

" The Indians," said the young trader, taking up
the subject without hesitation, " usually snare them.
Their most common way is to make a number
of hedges or wattle fences projecting into the
water at right angles to the edge of the lake, or,
it may be, river. These fences are two or three
yards apart, and between each two there is, of
course, an opening, into which the birds swim,
as they make towards the shore for their food. In
these openings, then, the snares are set and tied so
firmly to a post stuck in the bottom, that the
birds, whether ducks, geese, or swans, when caught,
may not be able to drag it away. To keep the
snare in its place, it is secured to the wattles of
the fence with tender strands of grass, that of
course give way the moment the fowl becomes

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THE DUCKS OF AMERICA.

entangled. The snares are made out of deer sinews,
twisted like packthread, and sometimes of thongs
cut from a * parchment' deer-skin, which, as you
know, is a deer-skin simply dried, and not tanned
or dressed. The making of the fences is the part
that gives most trouble. Sometimes the timber
for the stakes is not easily had ; and even when
it is plenty, it is no easy matter to drive the stakes
into the bottom and wattle them, while seated in
a vessel so crank as a birch canoe. Sometimes,
in the rivers where the water-fowl most frequent, the
current is swift, and adds to this trouble. Where
the lakes and rivers are shallow, the thing becomes
easier; and I have seen small lakes and rivers
fenced in this way from shore to shore. In large
lakes this would not be necessary, as most of the
water-birds — such as the swans and geese — and all
the ducks that are not of the diving kinds, are sure
to come to the shore to feed, and are more likely to
be taken close in to land than out in the open
water.

" The Indians often snare these birds upon the
nest, and they always wash their hands before
setting the snare. They have a notion — I don't
know whether true or not — that if their hands are

mmmimmmim

THE DUCKS or AMERICA.

259

not clean, the birds can smell the snare, and will
be shy of going into it. They say that all these
birds — and I believe it's true of all fowls that make
their nests upon the ground — go into the nest at
one side, and out at the opposite. The Indians
knowing this, always set their snares at the side
where the bird enters, and by this they are more
sure of catching them, and also of getting them
some hours sooner.

" Besides snaring the water-fowl," continued
Norman, " the Indians sometimes catch them in
nets, and sometimes on hooks baited with whatever
the birds are known to eat. They also shoot them
as the white hunters do, and to get near enough
use every sort of cunning that can be thought o£
Sometimes they decoy them within shot, by putting
wooden ducks on the water near their cover, where
they themselves are stationed. Sometimes they
disguise their canoes under brushwood, and paddle
to the edge of the flock ; and when the moulting
season comes round, they pursue them through the
water, and kill them with sticks. The swans,
when followed in this way, often escape. With
their strong wings and great webbed feet, they
can flap faster over the surface than a canoe can

260

THE DUCKS OF AMERICA.

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follow them. I have heard of many other tricks
which the Indians of different tribes make use of,
but I have only seen these ways I have described,
besides the one we have just witnessed."

Norman was one of your practical philosophers,
who did not choose to talk much of things with
which he was not thoroughly acquainted.

Lucien now took up the thread of the conversa-
tion, and gave some further information about the
different species of American ducks.
, " One of the most celebrated," said he, " is the
* eider-duck' [Anas mollissimd). This is prized for
its down, which is exceedingly soft and fine, and
esteemed cf great value for lining quilts and
making beds for the over-luxurious. It is said
that three pounds' weight of * eider down' can be
compressed to the size of a man's fist, and yet is
afterwards so dilatable as to fill a quilt of five
feet square. The down is generally obtained with-
out killing the bird, for that which is plucked from
dead birds is far inferior, and has lost much of its
elasticity. The mode of procuring it is to steal it
from the nest, in the absence of the birds. The
female lines the nest with down plucked from her
own breast. When this is stolen from her, by those

THE DUCKS OF AMERICA.

261

who gather the commodity, she plucks out a
second crop of it, a'^d arranges it as before. This
being also removed, it is said that the male bird
then makes a sacrifice of his downy waistcoat, and
the nest is once more put in order ; but should
this too be taken, the birds forsake their nest
never to return to it again. The quantity of * eider
down' found in a single nest is sufficient to fill a
man's hat, and yet it will weigh only about three
ounces.

" The eider-duck is about the size of the common
mallard, or wild duck proper. Its colour is black
below, and buff-white on the back, neck, and
shoulders, while the forehead is bluish black. It
is one of the ' sea-ducks,' or fuligulce, as the
naturalists term them, and it is rarely seen in fresh
watei;. Its food is principally the soft moUusca com-
mon in the Arctic seas, and its flesh is not esteemed
except by the Greenlanders. It is a* home only
in the higher latitudes of both Continents, and
loves to dwell upon the rocky shores of the sea;
but in very severe winters, it makes its appearance
along the Atlantic coast of the United States,
where it receives different names from the gunners
— such as 'black-and-white coot,* *big sea-duck/

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262

THE DUCKS OF AMERICA.

* shoal-duck,* and * squaw-duck;' and under these
titles it is often sold in the markets of American
cities. Some suppose that the eider-duck could
be easily domesticated. If so, it would, no doubt,
prove a profitable as well as an interesting experi-
ment ; but I believe it has already been attempted
without success. It is in the countries of Northern
Europe where the gathering of the eider down
has been made an object of industry. On the
American Continent the pursuit is not followed,
either by the native or white settler.

" Another species common to the higher lati-
tudes of both Continents is the * king-duck,* so
called from its very showy appearance. Its habits
are very similar to the * eider,* and its down is
equally soft and valuable, but it is a smaller
bird.

" A still smaller species, also noted for its brilliant
plumage, inhabits the extreme north of both
continents. This is the 'harlequin-duck;* or, as
the early colonists term it, the * lord.*

" But the * wood-duck* (Anas sponsa) is perhaps
the most beautiful of all . the American species, or
indeed of all ducks whatever — although it has a
rival in the mandarin duck of China, which indeed

mmmmmmmmmmmmm

wmmmmmm

THE DUCKS OF AMEIUCA.

263

it very much resembles both in size and markings.
The wood-duck is so called from the fact of its
making its nest in hollow trees, and roosting occa-
sionally on the branches. It is a fresh-water duck,
and a Southern species — never being seen in very
high latitudes; nor is it known in Europe in a
wild state, but is peculiar to the Continent of
America. It is one of the easiest species to do-
mesticate, and no zoological garden is now without
it ; in all of which its small size — being about
that of a widgeon — its active movements and
innocent look, its musical peet-peet, and, above all,
its beautiful plumage, make it a general favourite.

" Besides these, there are many others of the Ame-
rican ducks, whose description would interest you,
but you would grow tired were I to give a
detailed account of them all ; so I shall only men-
tion a few that are distinguished by well-known
peculiarities. There is the * whistler' (^A. clan-
gula)y which takes its trivial name from the
whistling sound of its wings while in flight ; and
the * shoveller,* so called from the form of its
bill; and the * conjuring,' or * spirit' ducks of
the Indians {Anas vulgaris and albeola), because
they dive so quickly and dexterously, that it is

mmasM

264

THE DUCKS OF AMERICA.

:^ii;

almost impossible to shoot them either with bow
or gun. There is the * old wife,* or * old squaw'
(Anas glacialis\ so called from its incessant cackle,
which the hunters liken to the scolding of an ill-
tempered old wife. This species is the most noisy
of all the duck tribe, and is called by the voyageurs
* caccawee,' from its fancied utterance of these
syllables ; and the sound, so often heard in the long
nights of the fur countries, has been woven into
and forms the burden of many a voyageur's song.
In some parts of the United States the caccawee
is called * south-southerly,* as its voice is there
thought to resemble this phrase, while at the time
when most heard — the autumn— these ducks are
observed flying in a southerly direction.
. " Besides these," continued Lucien, " there are
the teals — blue and green-winged— andthe coots, and
the widgeon — slightly differing from the widgeon
of Europe — and there is the rare and beautiful
little ruddy duck (^. rubidd), with its bright ma-
hogany colour — its long upright tail and short
neck — that at a distance give it the appearance of
a duck with two heads. And there is the well-
known * pintail,* and the * pochard* or * red-
head;* and the * mallard,* from which comes the

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THE DUCKS OF AMERICA.

265

common domestic variety, and the ' scoter,' and
* surf,' and * velvet,* and * dusky,' ducks — these
last four being all, more or less, of a dark 'jolour.
And there are the * shell-drakes,' or ' fishers,*
that swim low in the water, dive and fly well,
but walk badly, and feed altogether on fish. These,
on account of their toothed bills, form a genus of
themselves — the 'mergansers,' — and four distinct
species of them are known in America."

The approach of night, and the necessity of
landing, to make their night camp, brought Lucien's
lecture to a close. Indeed Francois was glad when
it ended, for he was beginning to think it somewhat
tedious.

266

THE SHRIKE

it:

CHAPTER XXI.

THE SHKIKE AND THE HUMMING-BIRDS.

The picturesque scenery of the Elk appeared to be
a favourite resort with ihe feathered creation.
Here our voyageurs saw many kinds of birds ;
both those that migrate into the fur countries
during summer, and those that make their home
there in the cold, dark days of winter. Among
the former were observed, — the beautiful blue bird
of Wilson {Sialia Wilsoni) which, on account of
its gentle and innocent habits, is quite as much
esteemed in America as the "robin" in England.
Another favourite of the farmer and the home-
stead, the purple martin, was seen gracefully
wheeling through the air ; while, among the green
leaves, fluttered many brilliant birds. The " cardi-
nal grosbeak " (^Pitylus cardinalis) with his bright
scarlet wings ; the blue jay, noisy and chattering ;

AND THE HUMMING-BIRDS.

267

the rarer " crossbill " (Loxia) with its deep crimson
colour ; and many others, equally bright and beauti-
ful, enlivened the woods, either with their voice
or their gaudy plumage. There was one bird,
however, that had neither " fine feathers " nor an
agreeable voice, but that interested our travellers
more than any of the others. Its voice was
unpleasant to the ear, and sounded more like tl .';
grating of a rus j 'linge than anything else they
could things of. The bird itself was not larger
than a thrush, of a light grey colour above, white
underneath, and with blackish wings. Its bill
resembled that of the hawks, but its legs were
more like those of the woodpecker tribe ; and it
seemed, in fact, to be a cross between the two.
It was neither the colour of the bird, nor its form,
nor yet its song, that interested our travellers,
but its singular habits ; and these they had a fine
opportunity of observing at one of their " noon
camps," where they had halted to rest and refresh
themselves during the hot mid-day hours. The
place was on one of the little islets, which was
covered with underwood, with here and there some
larger trees. The underwood bushes were of
various sorts j but close to the spot where they

2fi8

THE SHRIKE

had landed was a large thicket of honeysuckle,
whose flowers were in full bloom, and filled the
air with their sweet perfume.

While seated near these, rran9ois' quick eye
detected the presence of some very small birds
moving among the blossoms. They were at once
pronounced to be humming-birds, and of that
species known as the "ruby-throats" {Trochilus
colubris), so called, because a flake of a beautiful
vinous colour under the throat of the males
exhibits, in the sun, all the glancing glories of
the ruby. The back, or upper parts, are of a
gilded green colour ; and the little creature is the
smallest bird that migrates into the fur countries,
with one exception, and that is a bird of the same
genus, — the " cinnamon humming-bird " ( Trochilus
rufus). The latter, however, has been seen in the
Northern regions, only on the western side of the
Eocky Mountains ; but then it ha« been observed
even as far north as the bleak and inhospitable
shores of Nootka Sound. Mexico, and the tropical
countries of America, are the favourite home of the
humming-birds ; and it was, for a long time,
supposed that the " ruby-throats " were the only
ones that migrated farther north than the territory

\ I

AND THE HUMMING-BIBDS.

269

of Mexico itself. It is now known, that besides
the " cinnamon humming-bird," two or three other
species annually make an excursion into higher
latitudes.

The " ruby-throats " not only travel into the fur
countries, but breed in numbers upon the Elk
River, the very place where our travellers now
observed them.

As they sat watching these little creatures, for
there were several of theia skipping about and
poising themselves opposite the flowers, the atten-
tion of all was attracted to the movements of a far
different sort of bird. It was that one we have
been speaking of. It was seated upon a tree, not
far from the honeysuckles ; but every now and
then it would spring from its perch, dash forward,
and after whirring about for some moments among
the humming-birds, fly back to the same tree.

At first the boys watched these manaiuvres
without having their curiosity excited. It was no
new thing to see birds acting in this manner.
The jays, and many other birds of the fly-catching
kind {Muscicapce), have this habit, and nothing
was thought of it at the moment. Lucien, how-
ever, who had -matched the bird more narrowly,

K ',1' ■J'- »!..l'» ■!*■"■•. ■"„"*!»»''"'jP^

>i\

270

THE SHRIKE

presently declared to the rest that it was catching
the humming-birds, and preying upon them — that
each time it made a dash among the honeysuckles,
it carried off one in its claws, the smallness of the
victim having prevented them at first from no-
ticing this fact. They all now watched it more
closely than before, and were soon satisfied of the
truth of Lucien's assertion, as they saw it seize one
of the ruby-throats in the very act of entering the
corolla of a flower. This excited the indignation
of Francois, who immediately took up his " double-
barrel," and proceeded towards the tree where the
bird, as before, had carried this last victim. The
tree was a low one, of the locust or pseud-acacia
family, and covered all over with great thorny
spikes, like all trees of that tribe. Fran9ois paid
no attention to this ; but, keeping under shelter of
the underwood, he crept forward until within shot.
Then raising his gun, he took aim, and pulling
trigger, brought the bird fluttering down through
the branches. He stepped forward and picked it
up — ^not that he cared for such unworthy game,
but Lucien had called to him to do so, as the
naturalist wished to make an examination of the
creature. He was about turning to go back to

wmmm

AND THE HUMMING-BIRDS.

'< »^

271

camp, when he chanced to glance his eye up into
the locust-tree. There it was riveted by a sight
which caused him to cry out with astonishment.
His cry brought the rest running up to the spot,
and they were not less astonished than he, when
they saw the cause of it. I have said that the
branches of the tree were covered with long thorny
spikes that pointed in every direction ; but one
branch in particular occupied their attention.
Upon this there were about a dozen of these spines
pointing upward, and upon each spike teas impaled
a ruhy-throat! The little creatures were dead, of
course, but they were neither torn nor even much
ruffled in their plumage. They were all placed
back upwards, and as neatly spitted upon the
thorns as if they had been put there by human
hands. On looking more closely, it was discovered
that other creatures, as well as the humming-birds,
had been served in a similar manner. Several
grasshoppers, spiders, and some coleopterous insects
were found, and upon another branch two small
meadow-mice {Arvicolce) had been treated to the
same terrible death!

To Basil, Norman, and Fran9ois, the thing was
quite inexplicable, but Lucien understood well

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272

THE SHBIKE

enough what it meant. AU these ci^atares, he

informed them, were placed there by the bird

which Francois had shot, and which was no other

than the " shrike" (Lanitts) or "butcher-bird" — a

name by which it is more familiarly known, and

which it receives from the very habit they had

just observed. Why it follows such a practice

Lucien could not tell, as naturalists are not agreed

upon this point. Some have asserted that it spits

the spiders and other insects for the purpose of

attracting nearer the small birds upon which it

preys ; but this cannot be true, f )r it preys mostly

upon birds that are not insect-eaters, as the

finches : besides, it is itself as fond of eating

grasshoppers as anything else, and consumes large

quantities of these insects. The most probable

explanation of the singular and apparently cruel

habit of the butcher-bird is, that it merely places

its victims upon the thorns, in order to keep them

safe from ground-ants, rats, mice, raccoons, foxes,

and other preying creatures — just as a good cook

would hang up her meat or game in the larder to

prevent the cats from carrying it off. The thorny

tree thus becomes the storehouse of the shrike, ^

where he hangs up his superfluous spoil for future

AKD THE HUMMING-BIRDS.

278

use, just as the crows, magpies, and jajs, make
their secret deposits in chinks of walls and the
hollows of trees. It is no argument against this
theory, that the shrike sometimes leaves these
stores without returning to them. The fox, and
dog, as well as many other preying creatures, have
the same habit.

Wondering at what they had seen, the voyageurs
returned to their camp, and once more embarked
on their journey. *

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274

THE OSPBET AND HIS TTRANT.

.>r

CHAPTER XXII.

THE FISH-HAWK.

A PEW days after, another incident occurred to our
voyageurs, which illustrated the habits of a very
interesting bird, the " osprey," or fish-hawk, as it
is more familiarly known in America.

The osprey {Falco halicBtus) is a bird of the
falcon tribe, and one of the largest of the genus
— measuring two feet from bill to tail, with an
immense spread of wing in proportion, being nearly
six feet from tip to tip. It is of a dark brown
colour above, that colour peculiar to most of the
hawk tribe, while its lower parts are ashy white.
Its legs and bill are blue, and its eyes of a
yellow orange. It is found in nearly all parts of
America, where there are waters containing fish,
for on these it exclusively feeds. It is more
common on the sea-coast than in the interior, al-

::'K.

THE FISH-HAWK*

275

though it also frequents the large lakes, and lives
in the central parts of the continent during
summer, when these are no longer frozen over.
It is not often seen upon muddy rivers, as there
it would stand no chance of espying its victims in
the water. It is a migratory bird, seeking the South
in winter, and especially the shores of the Great
Mexican Gulf, where large numbers are often seen
fishing together. In the spring season these birds
move to the northward, and make their appearance
along the Atlantic coast of the continent, where
they diffuse joy into the hearts of the fishermen —
because the latter know, on seeing them, that they
may soon expect the large shoals of herring, shad,
and other fish, for which they have been anxiously
looking out. So great favourites are they with
the fishermen, that they would not knowingly kill
an osprey for a boat-load of fish, but regard these
bold fishing birds in the light of " professional
brethren." In this case the old adage that "two
of a trade never agree" is clearly contradicted.
The farmer often takes up his gun to fire at the
osprey — mistaking it for the red-tailed buzzard
{^Bute oborealis) or some other hawk, several species
of which at a distance it resembles — but, on

276

THE FISH-HAWK.

! -i

■;.

li:

discovering his mistake, brings down' his piece
without pulling trigger, and lets the osprey fiy
off unharmed. This singular conduct on the
part of the farmer arises from his knowledge
of the fact, that the osprey will not only not
kill any of his ducks or hens, but that where
he makes a settlement he will drive off from the
premises all the hawks, buzzards, and kites, that
would otherwise prey upon the poultry. With
such protection, therefore, the osprey is one of the
ji securest birds in America. He may breed in a
tree over the farmer's or j&sherman's door without
the slightest danger of being disturbed in his
incubation. I say his incubation ; but the male
takes no part in this domestic duty, further than to
supply his loved mate with plenty of fish while she
does the hatching business. Of course, thus pro-
tected, the osprey is not a rare bird. On the contrary,
fish-hawks are more numerous than perhaps any
other species of the hawk tribe. Twenty or thirty
nests may be seen near each other in the same
piece of woods, and as many as three hundred have
been counted on one little island. The nests are
built upon large trees — not always at the tops, as
those of rooks, but often in forks within twenty

THE FISH-HAWK.

277

feet of the ground. They are composed of large
sticks, with stalks of com, weeds, pieces of wet
turf, and then lined plentifully with dry sea-grass,
or any other grass that may be most convenient.
The whole nest is big enough to make a load for a
cart, and would be heavy enough to give any
horse a good pull. It can be seen, when the woods
are open, to an immense distance, and the more
easily, as the tree upon which it is built is always
a "dead wood," and therefore without leaves to
conceal it. Some say that the birds select a dead
or decaying tree for their nest. It is more pro-
bable such is the effect, and not the cause, of their
building upon a particular tree. It is more likely
that the tree is killed partly by the mass of rub-
bish thus piled upon it, and partly by the nature
of the substances, such as sea-weed in the nest, the
oil of the fish, the excrement of the birds them-
selves, and the dead fish that have been dropped
about the root, and suffered to remain there ; for
when the osprey lets fall his finny prey, which he
often does, he never condescends to pick it up
again, but goes in search of another. Boys
" a-nesting " might easily discover the nest of the
osprey ; but were they inclined to despoil it of

)•(

278

THE FI8H-HAWK.

its three or four eggs (which are about the size
of a duck*8, and blotched with Spanish brown),
they would find that a less easy task, for the
owners would be very likely to claw their eyes
out, or else scratch the tender skin from their
beardless cheeks : so that boys do not often trouble
the nest of the osprey. A very curious anecdote is
related of a negro having climbed up to plunder a
nest of these birds. The negro's head was covered
with a close nap of his own black wool, which is
supposed by a certain stretch of fancy to have the
peculiarity of "growing in at both ends." The
negro, having no other protection than that which
his thick fur afforded him, was assailed by both the
owners of the nest, one of which, making a dash at
the " darkie's" head, struck his talons so firmly into
the wool, that he was unable to extricate them,
and there stuck fast, until the astonished plunderer
had reached the foot of the tree. We shall not
answer for the truthfulness of this anecdote, al-
though there is nothing improbable about it ; for
certain it is that these birds defend their nests with
courage and fury, and we know of more than one
instance of persons being severely wounded who
made the attempt to rob them.

li'Hiifc,'

THE FISH-HAWK.

279

The ospreys, as already stated, feed exclusively
on fish. They are not known to prey upon birdfl
or quadrupeds of any kind, even when deprived
of their customary food, as they sometimes are for
days, on account of the lakes and rivers, in which
they expected to find it, being frozen over to a
later season than usual. Other birds, as the purple
grakles, often build among the sticks of the osprey's
nest, and rear their young without being meddled
with by this generous bird. This is an important
point of difference between the osprey and other
kinds of hawks ; and there is a peculiarity of
structure about the feet and legs of the osprey, that
points to the nature of his food and his mode of
procuring it. His legs are disproportionately
long and strong. They are without feathers nearly
to the knees. The feet and toes are also very long,
and the soles ere covered with thick, hard scales,
like the teeth of a rasp, which enable the bird to
hold securely his slippery prey. The claws, too,
are long, and curved into semicircles, with points
upon them almost as sharp as needles.

I have stated that an incident occurred to our party
that illustrated some of the habits of this interesting
bird. It was upon the afternoon of a Saturday,

' J fThn

wmm

280

THE FISH-HAWK.

after they had fixed their camp to remain for the
following day. They had landed upon a point or
promontory that ran out into the river, and from
which they commanded a view of a fine stretch of
water. Near where they had placed their tent
was the nest of an osprey, in the forks of a large
poplar. The tree, as usual, was dead, and the
young were plainly visible over the edge of the
nest. They appeared to be full-grown and feathered ;
but it is a peculiarity of the young ospreys that
they will remain in the nest, and be fed by the
parent birds, until long after they might be con-
sidered able to shift for themselves. It is even
asserted that the latter become impatient at length,
and drive the young ones out of the nest by beating
them with their wings ; but that for a considerable
time afterwards they continue to feed them— most
likely until the young birds learn to capture their
finny prey for themselves.

This Lucien gave as a popular statement, but
did not vouch for its truth. It was not long, how-
ever, before both he and his companions witnessed
its complete verification.

The old birds, after the arrival of the voyageurs
upon the promontory, had remained for some time

r-Vf'^~'-*^.-'-^.^'*^r

THE FISH-HAWK.

281

around the nest, and at intervals had shot down to
where the party was, uttering loud screams, and
making the air whizz with the strokes of their
wings. Seeing that there was no intention of dis-
turbing them, they at length desisted from these
demonstrations, and sat for a good while quietly
upon the edge of their nest. Then first one, and
shortly after the other, flew out, and commenced
sailing in circles, at the height of an hundred
feet or so above the wat«r. Nothing could be
more graceful than their flight. Now they would
poise themselves a moment in the air, then turn
their bodies as if on a pivot, and glide off in
another direction. All these motions were carried
on with the most perfect ease, and as if with-
out the slightest aid from the wings. Again
they would come to a pause, holding themselves
fixed in mid-air by a gentle flapping, and ap-
pearing to scrutinise some object below. Perhaps
it was a fish ; but it was either too large a one, or
not the species most relished, or maybe it had sunk
to too great a depth to be easily taken. Again
they sail around ; one of them suddenly arrests its
flight, and, like a stone projected from a sling,
shoots down to the water. Before reaching the

I'l

r I

282

THE FISH-HAWK.

surface, however, the fish, whose quick eye has
detected the coming enemy, has gone to the dark
bottom, and concealed himself; and the osprey,
suddenly checking himself by his wings and the
spread of his full tail, mounts again, and re-com-
mences his curvilinear flight.

After this had gone on for some time, one of the
birds — the larger one, and therefore the female —
was seen to leave off hunting, and return to the
nest. There she sat only for a few seconds, when,
to the astonishment of the boys, she began to strike
her wings against the young ones, as if she was en-
deavouring to force them from the nest. This was
just what she designed doing. Perhaps her late
unsuccessful attempt to get them a fish had led her
to a train of reflections, and sharpened her deter-
mination to make them shift for themselves. How-
ever that may be, in a few moments she succeeded
in driving them up to the edge, and then, by half
pushing, and half beating them with her wings,
one after the other — two of them there were —
was seen to take wing, and soar away out over
the lake.

At this moment, the male shot down upon the
water, and then rose again into the air, bearing

THE FISH-HAWK.

283

a fish, head-forei. . jst, in his talons. He flew
directly towards one of the young, and meeting
it as it hovered in the air, turned suddenly over,
and held out the fish to it. The Ir^tter clutched
it with as much ease as if it had been accus-
tomed to the thing for years, and then turning
away, carried the fish to a neighbouring tree, and
conunenced devouring it. The action had been per-
ceived by the other youngster, who followed after,
and alighted upon the same branch, with the inten-
tion of sharing in the meal. In a few minutes, the
best part of the fish was eaten iip, and both, rising
from the branch, flew back to their nest. There
they were met by the parents, and welcomed
with a loud squeaking, that was intended; no
doubt, to congratulate them upon the success of
their first "fly."

i^^^smam

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i ■■

284

THE OST'REY AND HIS TYRANT.

1 <

CHAPTER XXIII.

THE OSPREY AND HIS TYRANT.

7 :i

\i I

After remaining for some time on the nest along
with the others, the old male again resolved to " go
a-fishing," and with this intent he shot out from
the tree, and commenced wheeling above the water.
The boys, having nothing better to engage them,
sat watching his motions, while they freely con-
versed about his habits and other points in his
natural history. Lucien informed them that the
osprey is a bird common to both Continents, and
that it is often seen upon the shores of the Medi-
terranean, pursuing the finny tribes there, just as
it d js in America. In some parts of Italy it is
called the " leaden eagle," because its sudden heavy
plunge upon the water is fancied to resemble the
falling of a piece of lead.

,r£fi^« *^m*'^ rwr.il.

THE OSPRET AND HIS TTRA.NT.

285

While tbey were discoursing, the osprey was
seen to dip once or twice towards the surface of
the water, and then suddenly check himself, and
mount upward again. These manoeuvres were no
doubt caused by the fish which he intended to
" hook " having suddenly shifted their quarters.
Most probably experience had taught them wisdom,
and they knew the osprey as their most terrible
enemy. But they were not to escape him at all
times. As the boys watched the bird, he was seen
to poise himself for an instant in the air, then sud-
denly closing his wings, he shot vertically down-
ward. So rapid was his descent, that the eye could
only trace it like a bolt of lightning. There was a
sharp whizzing sound in the air — a plash was heard
— then the smooth bosom of the water was seen to
break, and the white spray rose several feet above
the surface. For an instant the bird was no longer
seen. He was underneath, and the place of his
descent was marked by a patch of foam. Only a
single moment was he out of sight. The next he
emerged, and a few strokes of his broad wing
carried him into the air, while a large fish was
seen griped in his claws. As the voyageurs had
before noticed, the fish was carried head-foremost,

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wtmi^mmma^m^^tm,^' ,11". i. -i

286

THE 08PRET AND HIS TYRANT.

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1 1

and this led them to the conclusion th^t in striking
his prey beneath the water the osprey follows it
and aims his blow from behind.

After mounting a short distance the bird paused
for a moment in the air, and gave himself a shake,
precisely as a dog would do after coming out of
water. He then directed his flight, now somewhat
slow and heavy, toward the nest. On reaching
the tree, however, there appeared to be some
mismanagement. The fish caught among the
branches as he flew inward. Perhaps the pre-
sence of the camp had distracted his attention,
and rendered him less careful. At all events, the
prey was seen to drop from his talons; and bounding
from branch to branch, went tumbling down to
the bottom of the tree.

Nothing could be more opportune than this,
for Fran9ois had not been able to get a "nibble"
during the whole day, and a fresh fish for dinner
was very desirable to all. Francois and Basil
had both started to their feet, in order to secure
the fish before the osprey should pounce down
and pick it up ; but Lucien assured them that
they need be in no hurry about that, as the
bird would not touch it again after he had once

"^>ii wi'miiWiA— ■

THE OSPREY AND HIS TYRANT.

287

let it fall. Hearing this, they took their time
about it, and walked leisurely up to the tree,
where they found the fish lying. After taking
it up they were fain to escape from the spot,
for the effluvium arising from a mass of other fish
that lay in a decomposed state around the tree
was more than any delicate pair of nostrils could
endure. The one they had secured proved to be
a very fine salmon of not less than six pounds
weight, and therefore much heavier than the bird
itf "^If ! The track of the osprey*s talons was deeply
marked; and by the direction in which the crea-
ture was scored, it was evident the bird had
seized it from behind. The old hawks made a
considerable noise while the fish was being car-
ried away; but they soon gave up their squealing,
and, once more hovering out over the river,
sailed about with their eyes bent upon the water
below.

" What a number of fish they must kill!" said
Fran9ois. " They don't appear to have much dif-
ficulty about it. I should think they get as much
as they can eat. See ! there again ! Another, I
declare !"

As Fran9ois spake the male osprey was seen

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288

THE OSPRET AND HIS TYRANT.

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to shoot down as before, and this time, although
he appeared scarcely to dip his foot in the water,
rose up with a fish in his talons.

" They have sometimes others to provide for
besides themselves," remarked Lucien. " For in-
stance, the bald eagle " '»

Lucien was interrupted by a cackling scream,
which was at once recognised as that of the
very bird whose name had just escaped his lips.
All eyes were instantly turned in the direction
whence it came — which was from the opposite side
of the river — and there, just in the act of launching
itself from the top of a tall tree, was the great
enemy of the osprey — the white-headed eagle
himself!

" Now a chase ! " cried Fran9ois, " yonder comes
the big robber ! "

With some excitement of feeling, the whole party
watched the movements of the birds. A few
strokes of the eagle's wing brought him near ; but
the osprey had already heard his scream, and
knowing it was no use carrying the fish to his nest,
turned away from it, and rose spirally upward, in
the hope of escaping in that direction. The eagle
followed, beating the air with his broad pinions.

g scream,
it of the

THE OSrUEY AXD WHITE- HEADED EAGLE.- PrtyC 288.

THE OSPBET AND HIS TYRANT.

289

as he soared after. Close behind him went the
i'cmale osprey, uttering wild screams, flapping her
wings against his very beak, and endeavouring to
distract his attention from the chase. It was to no
purpose, however, as the eagle full well knew her
object, and disregarding her impotent attempts,
kept on in steady flight after her mate. This con-
tinued until the birds had reached a high elevation,
and the ospreys, from their less bulk, were nearly
out of sight. But the voyageurs could see that the
eagle was on the point of overtaking the one that
carried the fish. Presently, a glittering object drop-
ped down from the heavens, and fell with a plunge
upon the water. It was the fish, and almost at the
same instant was heard the "whish I" of the eagle,
as the great bird shot after it. Before reaching
the surface, however, his white tail and wings
were seen to spread suddenly, checking his down-
ward course ; and then, with a scream of disap-
pointment, he flew off" in a horizontal direction,
and alit upon the same tree from which he had
taken his departure. In a minute after the ospreys
came shooting down, in a diagonal line, to their
nest ; and, having arrived there, a loud and ap-

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290

THE OSPREY AND HIS TYRANT.

parently angry consultation was carried on for some
time, in which the young birds bore as noisy a
part as either of their parents.

" It's a wonder," said Lucien, " the eagle missed
the fish — he rarely does. The impetus which he
can give his body enables him to overtake a falling
object before it can reach the earth. Perhaps
the female osprey was in his way, and hindered
him."

" But why did he not pick it up in the water ?"
demanded Fran9ois.

" Because it went to the bottom, and he could
not reach it — that's clear."

It was Basil who made answer, and the reason
he assigned was the true one.

" It's too bad," said Fran9ois, " that the osprey,
not half so big a bird, must support this great
robber-tyrant by his industry."

" It's no worse than among our own kind," in-
terposed Basil. " See how the white man makes
the black one work for him here in America.
That, however, is the few toiling for the million.
In Europe the case is reversed. There, in every
country, you see the million toiling for the few —

THE 08PRET AND HIS TYRANT.

291

toiling to support an oligarchy in luxurious ease, or
a monarch in barbaric splendour."

"But why do they do so? the fools!" asked
Fran9ois, somewhat angrily.

" Because they know no better. That oligarchy,
and those monarchs, have taken precious care to
educate and train them to the belief that such is
the natural state of man. They furnish them with
school-books, which are filled with beautiful so-
phisms — all tending to inculcate principles of
endurance of wrong, and reverence for their
wrongers. They fill their rude throats with hurrah
songs that paint false patriotism in glowing colours,
making loyalty — no matter to whatsoever despot —
the greatest of virtues, and revolution the greatest
of crimes ; they studiously divide their subjects
into several creeds, and then, playing upon the
worst of all passions — the passion of religious
bigotry — easily prevent their misguided helots from
uniting upon any point which would give them a
real reform. Ah ! it is a terrible game which the
present rulers of Europe are playing !"

It was Basil who gave utterance to these sen-
timents, for the young republican of Louisiana had

■■■■

292

THE OSPREY AND HI8 TYRAKT.

1«

e- (

already begun to think strongly on political sub-
jects. No doubt Basil would one day be an
M.C. I

" The bald eagles have been much blamed for
their treatment of the ospreys, but," said Lucien,
" perhaps they have more reason for levying their
tax than at first appears. It has been asked : Why
they do not capture the fish themselves ? Now, I
apprehend, that there is a natural reason why
they do not. As you have seen, the fish are not
always caught upon the surface. The osprey has
often to plunge beneath the water in the pursuit,
and Nature has gifted him with power to do so,
which, if I am not mistaken, she has denied to the
eagles. The latter are therefore compelled, in some
measure, to depend upon the former for a supply.
But the eagles sometimes do catch the fish them-
selves, when the water is sufficiently shallow, or
when their prey comes near enougli to the surface
to enable them to seize it."

" Do they ever kill the ospreys ? " inquired
Fran9ois.

"I think not," replied Lucien; "that would be
* killing the goose/ &c. They know the value of

THE 08PRET AND HIS TYRANT.

293

their tax-payers too well to get rid of them in that
way. A band of ospreys, in a place where there
happens to bo many of them together, have been
known to unite and drive the eagles off. That,
I suppose, must be looked upon in the light of a
successful revolution."

The conversation was here interrupted by another
incident. The ospreys had again gone out fishing,
and, at this moment, one of them was seen to
pounce down and take a fish from the water. It
was a large fish, and, as the bird flew heavily up-
ward, the eagle again left its perch, and gave
chase. This time the osprey was overtaken before
it had got two hundred yards into the air, and
seeing it was no use attempting to carry off the
prey, it opened its claws and let it drop. The
eagle turned suddenly, poised himself a moment,
and then shot after the falling fish. Before the
latter had got near the ground, he overtook and
secured it in his talons. Then, arresting his own
flight by the sudden spread of his tail, he winged
his way silently across the river, and disappeared
among the trees upon the opposite side. The
osprey, taking the thing as a matter of course,

sr.

I.:

If*

294

THE OSPREY AND HIS TYRANT.

again descended to the proper elevation, and betook
himself to his work. Perhaps he grinned a little
like many another royal tax-payer, but he knew
the tax had to be paid all the same, and he said
nothing. ^

An incident soon after occurred that astonished
and puzzled our party not a little. The female
osprey, that all this time seemed to have had
but poor success in her fishing, was now seen
to descend with a rush, and plunge deeply into
the wave. The spray rose in a little cloud over
the spot, and all sat watching with eager eyes
to witness the result. What was their astonish-
ment when, after waiting many seconds, the bird
still remaii:ef>. under water ! Minutes passed, and
still she did not come up. She came up no
more ! The foam she had made in her descent
floattjd awey — the bosom of the water was smooth
as glass — not a ripple disturbed its surface. They
could have seen the smallest objec^ for a hundred
yards or more around the spot where she had dis-
appeared. It was impossible she could have
emerged without them seeing her. Where, then,
had she gone ? This, as I have said, puzzled the

ippnpn>?l< I.I "« 'W "I

mim^mim

PQ9

•VI

THE OSPRET AND HIS TYRANT.

295

whole party; and formed a subject of conjecture
and conversation for the rest of that day, and also
upon the next. Even Lucien was unable to solve
the mystery. It was a point in the natural history
of the osprey unknown to him. Could she have
drowned herself ? Had some great fish, the " gar
pike," or some such creature, got hold of and
swallowed her ? Had she dashed her head against
a rock, or become entangled in weeds at the bottom
of the river ?

All these questions were put, and various solu-
tions of the problem were offered. The true one
was not thought of, until accident revealed it.
It was Saturdfiy when the incident occurred. The
party, of counte, remained all next day at the place.
They heard almost continually the cry of the
bereaved bird, who most likely knew no more
than they what had become of his mate. On
Monday our travellers re-embarked and continued
down-stream. About a mile below, as they were
p-'iddling along, their attention was drawn to a
singular object floating upon the water. They
brought the canoe alongside it. It was a large
fish, a sturgeon, floating dead, with a bird beside
it, also dead! On turning both over, what was

■**^f<i!>P

'^mmf

^l^^m;i^mrf^ffm

296

THE OSPREY AND HIS TYRANT.

their astonishment to see that the talons of the
bird were firmly fixed in the back of the fish!
It was the female osprey ! This explained all.
She had struck a fish too heavy for her strength,
and being unable to clear her claws again^ had
been drawn under the water and had perished
along with her victim !

.,. .

THE VOYAGE INTERRUPTED.

297

CHAPTER XXIV.

THE VOYAGE INTERRUPTED.

About ten days' rapid travelling down the Elk
River brought our party into the Athabasca Lake —
sometimes called the " Lake of the Hilis." This
is another of those great bodies of fresh water that
lie between the primitive rocks of the " Barren
Grounds," and the more fertile limestone deposit
upon the rrcst. It is nearly two hundred miles long
from v.<:-,t ' 3ast, and is only fifteen miles in
breadth, buz \u some places it is so narrow and full
of Islands tb^t c looks more like a broad river than
a lake. Its shores and many (,f its islands are
thickly wooded, particularly upon the southern and
western edges; and the eye of the traveller is
delig], d with many a beautiful vista as he
passef^ =-0!g. But our voyageurs took little heed
of these things. A gloom had come over their

mmi^mmf

298

THE VOYAGE INTERRUPTED.

spirits, for one of their party had taken ill, and
was suffering from a painful and dangerous
disease — an intermittent fever. It was Lucien —
ho that was beloved by all of them. He had
been complaining for several days — even while
admiring the fair scenery of the romantic Elk —
but every day he hLi n getting worse, until,
on their arrival at the li4,ive, he declared himself
no longer able to travel. It became necessary,
therefore, to suspend their journey ; and choosing
fo place for their camp, they made arrangements
to remain until Lucien should recover. Thtv
built a small log-hut for the invalid, and did
everything to make him as comfortable as pos-
sible. The best skins were spread for his couch;
and cooling drinks were brewed for him from
roots, fruits, and berries, in the way he had
already taught his companions to prepare them.
Every day Fran9ois went forth with his gun,
and returned with a pair of young pigeons, or
a wood-partridge, or a brace of the beautiful ruffed
grouse ; and out of these he would make delicate
soups, which he was the better able to do as
they had procured salt, pepper, and other ingre-
dients, at the Fort. They had also brought with

:V.^/.

THE VOYAGE INTERRUPTED.

299

them a stock of tea — the real China tea — and
sugar; and as the quantity of both was but small,
this luxurious beverage was made exclusively for
Lucien, and was found by him exceedingly bene-
ficial during his illness.

To the great joy of ail +he invalid was at
length restored to health, and the canoe being
once more launched and freighted, they continued
their journey.

They coasted along the shores of the lake, and
entered the Great Slave River, which runs from
the Athabasca into the Great Slave Lake. They
soon came to the mouth of another large river,
called the Peace. This runs into the Great Slave
a short distance below Lake Athabasca, and,
strange to say, the sources of the Peace River
lie upon the western side of the Rocky Moun-
tains, so that this stream actually runs across
the mountain - chain ! It passes through the
mountains in a succession of deep gorges, which
are terrible to behold. On both sides dizzy
cliffs and snow-capped peaks rise thousands of
feet above its rocky bed, and the sc nery is
cold and desolate. Its head -waters interlock
with those of several streams that run into the

f I

W»««'

300

THE VOYAGE INTERRUPTED.

] X

It',

Pacific ; so that, had our voyageura wished to
travel to the shores of that ocean, they might
have done so in their birch-bark canoe nearly
the whole of the way. But this was not their
design at present, so they passed the debouchure
of the Peace, and kept on for the Great Slave
Lake. They were still upon the same water as
the Elk, for the Great Slave is only another
name for that part of the river lying between
the two lakes — Athabasca and Great Slave. Of
course the river had now become much larger by
the influx of the Peace, and they were travelling
upon the bosom of a magnificent stream, with
varied scenery upon its banks. They were not
so happy, however, as when descending the Elk —
not but that they were all in good health, for
Lucien had grown quite strong again. No, it
was not any want of health that rendered them
less cheerful. It was the prospect before them —
the prospect of coming winter, which they now
felt certain would arrive before they had got
to the end of their journey. The delay of
nearly a month, occasioned by Lucien's illness,
had deranged all their calculations ; and they had
no longer any hope of being able to finish their

THE VOYAGE INTERRUPTED.

301

voyage in what remained of the short summer.
The ice would soon make its appearance ; the
lakes and rivers would be frozen up ; they could
no longer navigate them in their canoe. To
travel a-foot would be a most laborious under-
taking, as well as perilous in an extreme degree.
In this way it is only possible to carry a very
small quantity of provisions — for the traveller is
compelled to load himself with skin-clothing in
order to keep out the cold. The chances of
procuring game by the way in that season are
precarious, and not to be depended upon. Most
of the birds and many of the quadrupeds migrate
to more southern regions ; and those that remain
are shy and rare. Besides, great snow-storms
are to be encountered, in which the traveller is
in danger of getting "smoored." The earth is
buried under a deep covering of snow, and to
pass over this while soft is difficult, and at times
quite impossible. All these circumstances were
known to our young voyagcurs — to Norman better
than any of them — and of course the prospect
was a cheerless one — much more so than those
unacquainted with the winter of these dreary
regions would be willing to believe.

mmmmf^

mmmmm

■I

302

THE VOYAGE INTERRUPTED.

IMi

It was the month of August, near its end, when
they reached the Great Slave Lake, in the latitude
of 62°. The days had now become very short,
and their journeys grew short in proportion. They
already experienced weather as cold as an English
winter. There were slight frosts at night —
though not yet enough to cover the water with ice
— and the mid-day hours were hot, sometimes too
hot to be comfortable. But this only caused them
to feel the cold the more sensibly when evening set
in ; and all their robes and skins were necessary to
keep them warm during the night.

The Great Slave Lake, like the Athabasca, is
very long and very narrow. It extends full
260 miles from east to west, but at its widest
part is not over thirty, and in some places
much less. Along its northern shores lies the
edge of the " Barren Grounds," and there nothing
meets the eye but bleak and naked hills of
primitive rock. On its southern side the geology
is entirely of a different character. There the
limestone prevails, and scarcely anything that
deserves the name of hill is to be seen. There
are fine forests too, in which poplars, pines,
and birches, are the principal trees. The lake is

THE VOYAGE INTERRUPTED.

303

filled with islands, many of which are wholly or
partially covered with timber of these kinds, and
willows also are abundant. There are fish of several
species in its waters, which are in many places
of great depth — sixty fathoms deep — and in some
of the islands, and around the wooded shores,
game exists in abundance in the summer season.
Even in winter it is not scarce, but then it is
difficult to follow it on account of the deep snow.
Many of the animals, too, at this season become
torpid, and are of course hidden in caves and
hollow trees, and even in the snow itself, where
no one can find them. Notwithstanding all this, our
voyageurs knew that it would be the best place
for them to make their winter camp. They saw
that to complete their journey during that season
would be impossible. Even had it been a month
earlier it would have been a difficult undertaking.
In a few days winter would be upon them. They
would have to stop somewhere. There was no
place where they could so safely stay as by the
lake. One thing they would have there, which
might not be found so plenty elsewhere, that was
wood for their fire; and this was an induce-

'^A

■nm

"""^"'WXfl'mf

■iW

Mi :

;/'

304

THE VOYAGE INTERRUPTED.

ment to remain by the lake. Having made up
their minds, therefore, to encamp on some part
of it, they looked from day to day for a place
that would be most suitable, still continuing their
journey towards its western end. As yet no
place appeared to their liking, and as the lake
near its western point trends away towards the
south, Norman proposed that they should follow
the shore no longer, but strike across to a pro-
montory on the northern shore of the lake, known
as " Slave Point." This promontory is of the
limestone formation, and as Norman had heard,
is well wooded, and stocked with game. Even
buffaloes are found there. It is, in fact, the
farthest point to the north-east that these animals
range, and this presents us with a curious fact.
It is the farthest point that the limestone deposit
extends in that direction. Beyond that, to the
east and north, lie the primitive rocks of the Barren
Grounds, into which the buffaloes never stray.
Thus we observe the connexion that exists between
the fauna of a country and its geological
character.

Of course they all agreed to Norman's proposal.

THE VOYAGE INTERRUPTED.

305

ie up
) part

place

their
et no
e lake
is the

follow
a pro-
known
of the

heard,

Even

et, the

,nimals

s fact.

deposit

to the

Barren
stray.

letween
ilogical

The canoe was, therefore, headed for the open
waters ; and, after a hard day's paddling — for
there was a head-wind — the voyageurs landed
upon a small wooded island, about half-way over
the lake, where they encamped for the night,
intending next day to cross the remaining part.

[•oposal.

I '" ' '■"

H !'

306

FISHING UNDER THE ICE.

1 ■!

^;i

CHAPTER XXV.

FISHING UNDER THE ICE.

' I-

On awaking next morning, to their great surprise,
they saw that the lake was frozen over ! They
had almost anticipated as much, for the night was
one of the coldest they had yet experienced —
so cold that one and all of them had slept but
badly. As yet the ice was thin, but so much
the worse. It was thick enough to prevent them
from using the canoe, but too thin to bear their
weight, and they now saw that they were prisoners
upon the island !

It was not without some feelings of alarm that
they made this discovery ; but their fears were
allayed by reflecting, that they could remain upon
the island until the ice either thawed away or
became strong enough to bear them, and then they
could cross upon it to the northern shore. With

.'S^Jps. ■■^r-^V.e.tf"'.

FISHING UNDER THE ICE,

307

this consolation, therefore, they set about making
their temporary quarters upon the island as snug
as circumstances would permit. Their appre-
hensions, however, began to return again, when
several days had passed over, and the ice neither
grew any thinner nor any thicker, but seemed to
remain at a stand-still. In the early part of the
morning it was almost strong enough to bear
them ; but during the day the sun melted it, until
it was little better than a scum over the surtace
of the water. The alarm of our voyageurs
increased. Their provisions were nearly out.
There was no game on the islet — not so much as
a bird — for they had beaten every bush, and found
nothing. Once or twice they thought of launching
their canoe and breaking a way for it through
the ice. But they knew that this proceeding
would be one of much labour as ^'^ell as danger.
The islet was full ten miles from the shore, and
they would therefore have to break the ice for
ten miles. Moreover, to stand up in a bark canoe,
so as to get at the work, would be a difficult
task. It could not be accomplished without en-
dangering the equilibrium of the vessel, and indeed
without upsetting it altogether. Even to lean

308

FISHING UNDER THE ICE.

foi'ward in the bow would be a perilous eiLperi-
ment ; and under these considerations the idea of
breaking a way was abandoned. But their pro-
visions were at length entirely exhausted, and
what was to be done ? The ice was still too
weak to carry them. Near the shore it might
have been strong enough, but farther out lay the
danger. There they knew it was thinner, for it
had not frozen over ..*ntil a. later period. It would
have been madness to have risked it yet. On the
other hand, they were starving, or likely to starve
from hunger, by staying where they were. There
was nothing eatable on the island. What was to
be done ? In the water were fish — they doubted
not that — but how were they to catch them ?
They had tried them with hook and line, letting
the hook through a hole in the ice ; but at that
late season the fish would not take a bait, and
although they kept several continually set, and
"looked" them most regularly and assiduously,
not a " tail" was taken.

They were about to adopt the desperate ex-
pedient, now more difiicult than ever, of break-
ing their way through the ice, when, all at
once, it occurred to Norman, that, if they could

■*vt '*'-

FISHING UNDER THE ICE.

309

not coax the fish to take a bait, they might
succeed better with a net, and capture them
against their will. This idea would have been
plausible enough, had there been a net ; but there
was no net on that islet, nor perhaps within an
hundred miles of it. The absence of a net might
have been an obstacle to those who are ever ready
to despair ; but such an obstacle never occurred
to our courageous boys. They had two parchment
skins of the caribou which they had lately killed,
and out of these Norman proposed to make a net.
He would soon do it, he said, if the others would
set to work and cut the deer-skins into thongs fine
enough for the purpose. Two of them, therefore,
Basil and Lucien, took ou' their knives, and went
briskly to work ; while Fran9ois assisted Norman
in twining the thongs, and afterwards held them,
while the latter wove and knotted them into
meshes. In a few hours boJi the skins were cut
into fine strips, and worked up ; and 'a n'it wa i
produced nearly six yards in length by at least
two in width. It was rude enough, to be sure,
but perhaps it would do its work as well as if it
had been twined out of silk. At all events, it was
30on to have a trial — for the moment it was

/■■ •■

310

FISHING UNDER THE ICE.

i / 1

finished the sinkers were attached to it, and it
was carried down tj the edge of the water. *

The three " Southerners" had never seen a net
set under ice — for in their country ice is an un-
common thing, and indeed never freezes of sufficient
thickness to carry the weight of a man. They
were therefore very curious to know how the
thing was to be done. They could not conceive
how the net was to be stretched under the ice,
in such a manner as to catch the fish. Norman,
however, knew all about it. He had seen the
Indians, and had set many a one himself. It was
no new thing for him, and he set about it at
once.

He first crept out upon the ice to the
distance of about twenty or thirty yards from
the shore. He proceeded cautiously, as the ice
creaked under him. Having arrived at the place
where he intended to set the net, he knelt down,
and vith his knife cut several hohs in the ice,
at the distance of about six feet from each other,
and all in one line. He had already provided him-
self with a straight sapling of more than six feet
in length, to one end of which he had attached
a cord. The other end of this cord was tied to

FISHING UNDER THE ICE.

311

the net, at one of its comers. He now thrust the
sapling through the first hole he had made, and
then guided it so as to pass directly under the
second. At this hole he took a fresh hold of the
stick, and passed it along to the next, and so on to
the last, where he pulled it out again, and of
course along with it the string. The net was
now drawn into the first hole, and by means of
the cord already received through, was pulled out
to its full length. The sinkers, of course, fell
down in the water, and drew it into a vertical posi-
tion. At both its upper comers the net was
made fast above the ice, and was now " set."
Nothing more could be done until the fish me
into it of their own accord, when it could je
drawn out upon the ice by means of the cord
attached ; and, of course, by the same means could
easily be returned to its place, and set again.

All of them now went back to the fire, and
with hungry looks sat around it, waiting the
result. They had made up their minds, should
no fish be caught, to get once more into the canoe
and attempt breaking their way to the shore.
Summoning all their patience, therefore, they

mmm

wmimm

•J i

312

FISHU76 UNDER THE ICE.

waited for nearly two hours, without examining
the net. Then Norman and Basil crawled back
upon the ice, to see what fortune had done for
them. They approached the spot, and, with their
hearts thumping against their ribs, untied the
knot, and commenced hauling out.

"It certainly feels heavy," said Basil, as the
net was being drawn. " Hurrah ! " he shouted,
" Something kicks, hurrah ! " and with the second
" hurrah !" a beautiful fish was pulled up through
the hole, and landed upon the ice. A loud
"hurrah" was uttered in response by Lucien and
Fran9ois — ^who, fearing the ice might not bear so
many, had remained upon the shore. A yard or
two more of the net was cleared, and a second fish
still larger than the former was greeted with a
general " hurrah !" The two fish were now taken out
— as these were all that had been caught — and the
net was once more carefully set. Basil and Norman
came back to the shore — Norman to receive quite
a shower of compliments from his companions.
The fish — the largest of which weighed nearly
five pounds — proved to be trout ; and it was
not long before their quality was put to the

FISHING UNDER THE ICE.

313

proof. AM declared thej had never eaten so fine
trout in their lives ; but when the condition of their
appetites is taken into account, we may infer that
there was, perhaps, a little exaggeration in this
statement. If hunger really makes good sauce,
our voyageurs had the best of sauce with their
fish, as each of them was as hungry as a half-
famished wolf.

They felt quite relieved, as far as present appe-
tite went, but they were still uneasy for the
future. Should they not succeed in taking more
fish — and it was by no means certain they should
succeed — they would be no better off than ever.
Their anxiety, however, was soon removed. Their
second "haul" proved even more successful than
the first — as five fish, weighing together not less
than twenty pounds, were pulled up.

This supply would enable them to hold out for a
long time, but they had not much longer to remain
on the islet. Upon that very night there was one
of those severe frosts known only in high latitudes,
and the ice upon the iake became nearly a foot
in thickness. They Lad no longer any fear of
its breaking under their weight ; and taking

I
I

314

FISHIKO UNDEB THE ICE.

their canoe with all their "traps,** tliey set out
to cross over upon the ice. In a few hours thej
reached the shore of the lake, near the end of the
promontory, where they chose a spot, and en-
camped. 1 V

ft /

AN ODD ALABM.

315

: f^'^:

CHAPTER XXVI.

AN ODD ALARM.

I'f

The first thing our voyageurs did after choosing
a suitable situation, was to build a log-hut.
Being young backwoodsmen this was but a trifle
to them. All four of them knew how to handle
an axe with dexterit". The logs were soon cut
and notched, and a small cabin was put up, and
roofed with split clap-boards. With the stones that
lay near the shore of the lake they buivt a chimney.
It was but a rude structure, but it drew admirably.
Clay was wanted to " chinlc " the cabin, but that
could not be had, as the ground was hard frozen,
and it was quite impossible to make either clay
or mud. Even hot water poured out would freeze
into ice in a few minutes. This was a serious
want — for in such a cold climate even the smallest
hole in the walls will keep a house uncomfortable,

■Pff

II-

mrmmmfumimifmmmi^m!^'^* '"" " "

316

AN ODD ALARM.

t /

E '''

and to fill the interstices between the logs, so as
to make them air-tight, some soft substance was
necessary. Grass was suggested, and Lucien went
off in search of it. After awhile he returned with
an armful of half-withered grass, which all agreed
would be the very thing j and a large quantity
was soon collected, as it grew plentifully at a short
distance from the cabin.

They now set to work to stuff it into the chinks ;
when, to their astonishment, they found that this
grass had a beautiful smell, quite as powerful and
as pleasant as that of mint or thyme ! When a
small quantity of it was flung into the fire it filled
the cabin with a fragrance as agreeable as the
costliest perfumes. It was the "scented grass,"
which grows in great profusion in many parts of the
Hudson's Bay territory, and out of which the
Indians often make their beds, burning it also
upon the fire to enjoy its aromatic perfume.

For the first day or two, at their new abode,
the travellers had lived altogether on fish.
They had, of course, brought their net with
them from the island, and had set it near the
shore in the same way as before. They had
captured as many as they wanted, and, strange

AN ODD ALARM.

317

to say, at one haul thej found no less than
five different species in the net! One kind, a
white fish, the Coregonus albus of naturalists,
but which is named "tittameg" by the fur-traders,
they caught in great plenty. This fish is found
in nearly all the lakes and rivers of the Hudson's
Bay territory, and is much prized both by whites
and Indians for its delicate flavour. At some of
the trading posts it often forms, for weeks together,
the only food which the residents can obtain ; and
they are quite satisfied when they can get enough
of it. The tittameg is not a large fish ; the largest
attain to the weight of about eight pounds.

There was another and still smaller species, which,
from its colour, the voyageurs call the "poisson
bleu," or blue fish. It is .the Coregonus signifer
of ichthyologists. It is a species of grayling, and
frequents sharp-running water, where it will leap
at the fiy like a trout. Several kinds of trout also
inhabit the Great Slave Lake, and some of these
attain to the enormous weight of eighty pounds !
A few were caught, but none of so gigantic
proportions as this. Pike were also taken in the
net, and a species of burbot {Gadus lota). This
last is one of the most voracious of the finny tribe,

318

AN ODD ALARM.

and prejs upon all others that it is able to swallow.
It devours whole quantities of cray-fish, until its
stomach becomes crammed to such a degree as to
distort the shape of its whole body. When this
kind was drawn out, it was treated very rudely by
the boys — because its flesh was known to be
extremely unsavoury, and none of them cared to
eat it. Marengo, however, had no such scruples,
and he was wont to make several hearty meals
each day upon the rejected burbot.

A fish diet exclusively was not the thing; and
as our party soon grew tired of it, the hunter
Basil shouldered his rifle, and strode off into the
woods in search of game. The others remained
working upon the cabin, which was still far from
being finished.

Basil kept along the edge of the lake in an
easterly direction. He had not gone more than a
quarter of a mile, when he came upon a dry gra-
velly ridge, which was thickly covered with a
species of pine-trees that resembled the Scotch
fir {Pinus sylvestris). These trees were not over
forty feet in height, with very thick trunks and
long .flexible branches. No other trees grew among
them, for it is the nature of this pine — which

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AN ODD ALABM.

■.-'JJk- ;

319

was the "scrub" or grey pine (P. Banksiana)—
to monopolise the ground wherever it grows. As
Basil passed on, he noticed that many of the trees
were completely "barked," particularly on the
branches ; and small pieces of the bark lay scat-
tered over the ground, as though it had been peeled
off and gnawed by some animal. He was walking
quietly on and thinking what creature could have
made such a wreck, when he came to a place
where the ground was covered with fine sand or
dust. In this, to his astonishment, he observed
what he supposed to be the tracks of human feet !
They were not those of a man, but small tracks,
resembling the footsteps of a child of three or four
years of age. He was about stooping down to
examine them more closely, when .\ voice sounded
in his ears exactly like the cry of a child ! This
bi*ought him suddenly to an erect attitude again,
and he looked all round to discover who or what
had uttered that strange cry. He could see no
one — child or man — and strange, too, for he had
a clear view through the tree-trunks for several
hundred yards around. He was filled with curi-
osity, not unmixed with alarm ; and, stepping for-
ward a few paces, he was about to bend down and

/■ 1

I /

320

AN ODD ALARM.

■■ t '

examine the tracks a second time^ when the singular
cry again startled him. This time it was louder
than before, as if he was closer to whatever had
uttered it, but Basil now perceived that it pro-
ceeded from above him. The creature from which
it came was certainly not upon the ground, but high
up among the tops of the trees. He looked up, and
there, in the fork of one of the pines, he perceived
a singular and hideous-looking animal — such as he
had never before seen. It was of a brown colour,
about the size of a terrier-dog, with thick shaggy
hair, and clumped up in the fork of the tree —
so that its head and feet were scarcely distinguish-
able. Its odd appearance, as well as the peculiar
cry which it had uttered, would have alarmed
many a one of less courage than our young hunter,
and Basil was at first, as he afterwards confessed,
"slightly flurried ;" but a moment's reflection told
him what the animal was — one of the most inno-
cent and inoffensive of God's creatures — the Canada
porcupine. It was this, then, that had barked the
scrub pines — for they are its favourite food ; and
it was its track — which in reality \ery much
resembles that of a child — that Basil had seen in
the sand.

AN ODD ALARM.

821

The first thought of the joung hunter was to
throw up his rifle, and send a buITot through the
ungainly animal ; which, instead of making any
efibrt to escape, remained almost motionless, utter-
ing, at intervals, its child-like screams. Basil,
however, reflected that the report of his rifle would
frighten any large game that might chance to be
near ; and as the porcupine was hardly worth a
shot, he concluded, upon reflection, it would be
botter to leave it alone. He knew — for he had
heard Lucien say so — that he would find the porcu-
ni ae at any time, were it a week, or even a month
after — ^for these creatures remain sometimes a whole
winter in the same grove. He resolved, therefore,
should no other game turn up, to return for it ; and,
shouldering his rifle again, he continued his course
through the woods.

As he proceeded, the timber became thinner.
The scrub-pines gave place to poplar-trees,
with here and there an undergrowth of willows.
The trees stood far apart, and the willows grew
only in clumps or " islands," so that the view was
nearly open for many hundred yards around. Basil
walked on with all the silence and watchfulness
of a true " still" >.unter — for, among backwoods-

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322

AN ODD ALARM-

men, this species of hunting is so called. He
ascended a low hill, and keeping a tree in front
of him, looked cautiously over its crest. Before
him, and stretching from the bottom of the hill,
was a level tract of considerable extent. It was
bounded on one side by the edge of the lake, and
on all the others by thin woods, similar to those
through which the hunter had been for some time
travellin^:. Here and there, over the plain, there
stood trees, far apart from each other, and in nowise
intercepting the view for a mile or more. The
ground was clear of underwood, except along the
immediate edge of the lake, which was fringed by a
thicket of willows.

As Basil looked over the hill, he espied a small
group of animals near the interior border of the
willows. He had never seen animals of the
same species before, but the g^nus was easily told.
The tall antlered horns, that rose upon the head
of one of them, showed tha^^ thry were deer of some
kind ; and the immense size of the creature that
bore them, together with his ungainly form, his
long legs, and ass-like ears, his huge head with its
overhanging lip, his short neck with its standing
mane, and, above all, the broad palmation of the

AN ODD ALARM.

323

horns themselves, left Basil without any doubt upon
his mind that the animals before him were moose-
deer — the largest, and perhaps the most awkward,
of all the deer kind. The one with the antlers
was the male or buU-mcjse. The others were the
female and her two calves of the preceding year.
The latter were still but half-grown, and, like the
female, were without the " branching horns" that
adorned the head of the old bull. They were all
of a dark-brown colour — looking blackish in the
distance — ^but the large one was darker than any of
the others.

Basil's heart beat high, for he had often heard of
the great moose, but now saw it for the first
time. In his own country it is not found, as it is
peculiarly a creature of the cold regions, and ranges
no farther to the south than the northern edge of
the United States territory. To the north it is
met with as far as timber grows — even to the
shores of the Polar Sea ! Naturalists are not certain,
whether or not it be the same animal with the elk
{Cert us alces) of Europe. Certainly the two are
but little, if anything, different ; but the name
" elk '* has been given in America to quite another
and smaller species of deer — the wapiti {Cervus

pcTBae

RHHI

324

AN ODD ALABM.

Canadensis). The moose takes its name from its
Indian appellation, " moosoa," or " wood-eater ;"
and this name is very appropriate, as the animal
lives mostly upon the leaves and twigs of trees.
In fact, its structure — ^like that of the camelopard
— is such that it finds great difficulty in reaching
grass, or any other herbage, except where the
latter chances to be very tall, or grows upon the
declivity of a very steep hill. When it wishes to
feed upon grass, the moose usually seeks it in
such situations ; and it may often be seen browsing
up the side of a hill, with its legs spread widely
on both sides of its neck. But its favourite food
is found at a more convenient height, and consists
of the young shoots of many species of trees. It
prefers those of the poplar, the birch-tree, and
willows, and one kind of these last, the red willow,
is its particular favourite. The " striped" maple
(^Acer striatum) is also much relished by the
moose — hence the name " moose-wood," by which
this iree is known among the hunters. It loves
also th'^ common water-lilies (Ni/mphce); and in
summer it may be seen wading out into lakes, and
plucking up their succulent leaves. It takes to the
water also for other purposes — to cool its body.

AN ODD ALARM.

325

and rid itself of several species of gnats and mus-
quitoes that at this season torment it exceedingly.
At such times it is more easily approached ; and
the Indians hunt it in their canoes, and kill it in
the vater, both with spears and arrows. They
never find the moose, however, in large numbers —
for it is a solitary animal, and only associates in
pairs during one part of the year, and in families
at another season — as Basil now found it. In
winter the Indians track it through the snow,
following it upon snow-shoes. These give them
the advantage of skinming along the surface, while
the moose plunges through the deep drift, and is
therefore impeded in its flight. Notwithstanding,
it will frequently escape from the hunter, after
a chase of several dai/s* duration! Sometimes, in
deep snow, a dozen or more of these animals will
be found in one place, where they have got acci-
dentally together. The snow will be trodden
down until the place appears as if enclosed by a
wall. This the hunters term a " moose-pound,"
and when found in such situations the moose are
easily approached and surrounded — ^when a gene-
ral battue takes place, in which few or none of
the animals are allowed to escape.

? i

326

AN ODD AXARM.

h !

' .

t '

I have said that Basil's heart beat high at the
sight of the moose. He was very desirous of killing
one — partly on account of the novelty of the thing,
and partly because he and his companions at the
camp were anxious for a change of diet. Moose-
meat was the very thing ; and he knew that if he
could return to camp with a few pieces of this strung
over his gun, he would receive a double welcome.
He was well aware that the flesh of the moose was
of the most savoury and delicate kind, and that the
long pendulous upper iip is one of the " tit-bits" of
the fur countries. Moreover, the fine hide would be
an acceptable addition to their stock, as it is the
best of all deerskins for mocassins, as well as snow-
shoes — articles which Basil knew would soon be
needed. For these reasons he was unusually de-
sirous of killing one of the moose.

He knew it woult' be difficult to approach them.
He had heard that they were shyest at that very
season — the beginning of winter — and indeed such
is the case. No deer is so difficult to get a shot at
as a moose in early winter. In summer it is not so
— as then the musquitoes torment these animals to
such a degree that they pay less heed to other
enemies, and the hunter can more easily approach

AN ODD ALARM.

327

them. In winter they are always on the alert.
Their sense of smell — as well as of sight and hear-
ing — is acute to an extreme degree, and they are
cunning besides. They can scent an enemy a long
distance off — if the wind be in tlieir favour — and
the snapping of a twig, or the slightest rustle of
the leaves, is sufficient to start them off. In their
journey ings through the snow, when they wish to
r^Bt themselves, they make a sort of detour ^ and,
coming back, lie down near the track which they
have abeady passed over. This gives them an
opportunity of hearing any enemy that may be
following upon their trail, and also of making off
in a side -direction, while the latter will be looking
steadfastly ahead for them.

Basil had heard of all these tricks of the moose —
for many an old moose-hunter had poured his tale
into Basil's ear. He proceeded, therefore, with
all due caution. He first buried his hand in his
game-bag, and after a little groping brought out
a downy feather whiph had chanced to be there.
This he placed lightly upon the muzzle of his rifle,
and having gently elevated the piece above his head,
watched the feather. After a moment, the breeze
carried it off, and Basil noted the direction it took.

mmimmm'^mmmmm^mm

328

AN ODD ALARM.

This is called, in hunter phrase, "tossing the
feather," and gave Basil the exact direction of the
wind — an important knowledge in the present case.
To Basil's gratification he saw that it was blowing
down the lake, and nearly towards himself. He
was not exactly to leeward of the moose j but, what
was better still, the willows that fringed the lake
were, for he could see them bending from the deer,
as tha breeze blew freshly. He knew he could
easily get among the willows ; and as they were
not yet quite leafless, and, moreover, were inter-
spersed with tall reed grass, they formed a tolerable
cover under which he might make his approach.

Without losing time, then, he made for the
willows, and placing them between himself and
the game, commenced " approaching" along the
shore of the lake.

He had a full half-hour's creeping — at one time
upon his hands and knees — at another, crawling
flat upon his breast like a gigantic lizard, and now
and then, at favourable spots, walking in a bent
attitude. A full half-hour was he, and much pain
and patience did it cost him, before getting within
shot. But Basil was a hunter, and knew both how
to endure the pain and practise the patience —

AM ODD AXARM.

rii'-

329

virtues that, in hunting as well as in many other
occupations, usually meet with their reward. And
Basil was likely to meet with his, for on parting
the leaves, and looking cautiously through, he saw
that he had arrived at the right spot. Within
fifty yards of him he saw the high shoulders of the
bull-moose and his great flat antlers towering
over the tops of the willows, among the leaves of
which the snout of the animal was buried. He also
caught a glimpse of parts of the other three be-
yond ; but he thought only of the bull, and it was
upon him that he kept his eyes fixed. Basil did
not think of the quality of the meat, else he would
have selected either the cow or one of the calves.
Had it been buffaloes he would certainly have done
so ; but as he had never killed a moose, he was
determined to slay the leader of the herd.

Indeed, had he wished to shoot one of the others,
it might not have been so easy, as they were
farther off, and he could only see the tops of their
shoulders over the willows. Neither did the bull
offer a fair mark. He stood face to face with the
hunter, and Basil fancied that a shot on the frontal
bone might not kill him. He knew it would
not kill a buffalo. There was only one other part

tmmmm

mmm

mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

330

AN ODD ALARM.

at which he could aim — the fore-shoulder; and
after waiting some moments for the animal to give
him a fairer chance, he took aim at this and fired.
He heard a loud cracking of hoofs, as the cow
and calves shambled off over the plain, but he
saw that the bull was not with them. He was
down behind the willows. No doubt he was
dead.

i>i

ENCOUNTER WITH A MOOSE.

331

and
give
ired.
cow
: he
was
was

CHAPTER XXVII.

ENCOUNTER WITH A MOOSE.

What was a rare thing for Basil to do, he rushed
forward without reloading his gun. A few springs
brought him into the open ground, and in presence
of the game. To his astonishment, the bull was
not dead, nor down neither, but only upon his
knees — of course wounded. Basil saw the " crease"
of the bullet along the neck of the animal as he
drew near. It was only by a quick glance that he
saw this, for as soon as the bull saw him he rose
to his full height — ^his eyes flashing like a tiger's —
and setting his antlers in a forward position, sprang
upon the hunter ! Basil leaped aside to avoid the
encounter; and in the first rush was successful,
but the animal turned suddenly, and, coming up a
second time, raised his fore-feet high in the air, and
struck forward with his long-pointed hoofs. Basil

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332

ENCOUNTER WITH A MOOSE.

r '

I '

attempted to defend himself with his rifle, but
the piece was struck out of his hand in an instant.
Once more avoiding the forward rush of the in-
furiated beast, the young hunter looked around for
some object to save him. A tree fell under his
eye, and he ran towards it with all his speed.
The moose followed close upon his heels, and ho
had just time to reach the tree and get around its
trunk, when the animal brushed past, tearing the
bark with his sharp antlers. Basil now slipped
round the trunk, and when the moose again turned
himself the two were on opposite sides of the tree !
The beast, however, rushed up, and struck the tree
furiously first with his brow antlers, and then with
his hoofs, uttering loud snorts, and at intervals a
shrill whistling sound that was terrible to hear.
The disappointment which the enraged animal
felt, at seeing his enemy thus escape him, seemed
to have added to his rage ; and he now vented his
spite upon the tree, until the trunk, to the height
of six feet, was completely stripped of its bark.
While this was going on, Basil remained behind
the tree, " dodging" round as the moose manoeuvred,
and taking care always to have the animal on
the opposite side. To have got into a safer situa-

-••^MMfc^iMMmdiMMIMMiiriMMaiWhii

ENCOUNTER WITH A MOOSE. 333

tion he would hfi ve climbed the tree ; but it hap-
pened to i)(i a poplar, without a branch for many-
feet from the ground, and of too great a girth to
bo " embraced." Ho could do nothing, therefore, but
remain upon the ground, and keep tlie tree-
trunk between himself and the bull.

For nearly an hour this lasted, the moose now
remaininfj at rest for a few minutes, and then
making fresh onsets that seemed to abate nothing
in their fury. His rage appeared to be implacable,
and his vengeance as tenacious as that of a tiger
or any other beast of prey. The wound vhich
the hunter had given him was no doubt painful,
and kept his resentment from cooling. Unfor-
tunately, it was not a mortal wound, as Basil had
every opportunity of seeing. The bullet had hit
the fore-shoulder ; but, after tearing along the skin,
had glanced off without injuring the bone. It had
only enraged the bull, without crippling him in
the least degree. Basil began to dread the result.
He was becoming faint with fatigue as well as
hunger. When would he be relieved? When
would the fierce brute feel inclined to leave him ?
These were questions which the hunter put to
himself repeatedly, without being able to divine

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384

ENCOUNTER WITH A MOOSE.

' '

{

an answer. He had heard of hunters being killed
by wounded moose. He had heard that these
creatures will remain for days watching a person
whom they may have " treed." Ho could not
stand it for days. He would drop down with
fatigue, and then the bull would gore and trample
him at pleasure. Would they be able to trace
him from the camp? They would not think of
that before nightfall. They would not think of
him as " lost" before that time ; and then they
could not follow his trail in the darkness, nor
even in the light — for the ground was hard as a
rock, and he had made no footmarks. Marengo
might trace him. The dog had been left at the
camp, as Basil preferred " still-hunting" without
him. But in his present situation the hunter's
apprehensions were stronger than his hopes. Even
Marengo might be baffled in lifting the scent.
The trail was an exceedingly devious one, for Basil
had meandered round the sides of the hill in search
of game. Deer or other animals might have since
crossed it, which might mislead the hound. It
would be cold at night, and much colder next
morning. There were many chances that no relief
might reach him from the camp. Impressed with

ENCOUNTER WITH A MOOSE.

335

this conviction, Basil began to feci serious alarm.
Not despair, however — he was not the boy to
despair. His mind only grew more alive to the
necessity for action. He looked around to dis-
cover some means of escape. His gun lay not
a hundred yards off. Could he only get hold of
the piece, and return safely to the tree again, he
could there load it and put at end to the scene at
once. But to reach the gun was impossible. The
moose "would bound after and overtake him to a
certainty. The idea of getting the gun was aban-
doned.

In the opposite direction to that in which the
gun lay, Basil perceived that there were other
trees. The nearest was but a dozen yards from
him; and others, again, grew I'i, about the same
distance from that one, and from each other. Basil
now conceived the idea of escaping to the nearest,
and from that to the next, and by this means getting
back into the thick forest. Once there, he be-
lieved that he would be the better able to effect
his escape, and perhaps reach the camp by dodging
from tree to tree. He could beat the moose for a
dozen yards — getting a little the start of him —

ENCOUNTEK WITH A M0O«:.

;ilr

and this he hoped to be able to do. Should he
fail in his short race, however — should his foot
slip — the alternative was fearful. It was no other
than death !

He knew that, but it did not cliange his resolu-
tion to make the attempt. He only waited for the
animal to work round between him and the tree
towards which he intended to run. You will
wonder that he did not prefer to have the moose
on the other side. But he did not, for this reason
— had -Jiie bull been tliere, he could have sprung
after hiima at the first start ; whereas, when heading
th" othiT way, Basil believed he could brush close
ipnart, said gain an advantage, as the unwieldy
Ibrnte, taisen by surprise, woald require some time
in luxiuB^ himself to givf' diase.

TSbp ofifwrtumty at length arrived ; and nerving
liim?*elf ikr th*- race, the hunler sprang past
the moose, bradbing the very tips of its antlers.
He ran without either stopping or even looking
back, until he had reached the tree, and sheltered
himself behind ns trunk. The moose had fol-
lowed, and arrived but the moment after, snorting
and whistling furiously. Enraged at the ruse,

ENCOUNTER WITH A MOOSE.

337

it attacked this tree, as it had the other, with
hoof and horns ; and Basil nimbly evaded both
by keeping on the opposite side, as before.

In a few minutes he prepared himself for a
second rush, and once more starte<!. A third tree
was reached in safety — and then a fourth, and a
fifth, and many others, in a similar manner — the
moose all the while following in hot pursuit.
Basil had begun to hope that in this way he would
get off, when, to his chagrin, he saw that an open
space still intervened between him and the thick
woods, upon which there were only a few trees, and
those so small that not one of them would have
sheltered him. This tract was full two hundred
yards in width, and extended all along the edge
of the thick forcot. He dared not cross it. The
moose would overtake him before he could get
half the way ; and he was obliged to give up the
idea of making the attempt.

As he stood behind the last tree he had reached,
he saw that it branched, and the lowest branches
grew but a little above his head. He could easily
climb it, and at once resolved to do so. He would
there be safe for the time, and could at least rest
himself, for he was now weak with fatigue. He,

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W I > '4<^

338

ENCOUNTER WITH A MOOSE.

^|i

r;.l I

therefore, stretched up his hands, and, laying hold
of a branch, swung himself up into tlie tree. Then
climbing up a little higher, he sat down on one of
the forks.

The moose appeared as furious as ever; and
ran round the tree, no\V striking it with his horns,
and then rearing upon his hind-legs, and pouncing
against the trunk with his hoofs. At times his
snout was so close to Basil, that the latter could
almost touch it ; and he had even drawn his hunt-
ing-knife, and reached down with the intent of
giving the creature a stab.

This last action led to a train of thought, and
Basil seemed suddenly to adopt some new reso-
lution. Leaving the fork where he had perched
himself, he climbed higher up the tree ; and,
selecting one of the longest and straightest
branches, commenced cutting it off close to the
trunk. This was soon effected; and then, draw-
ing it along his knee, he trimmed off all the twigs
and tops until the branch became a straiglit
pole, like a spear-handle. Along one end of this
he laid the handle of his knife ; and with thongs,
which he had already cut out of the strap of his
bullet-pouch, he spliced the knife and pole together.

ing hold
. Then
n one of

er ; and
is horns,
pouncing
:imes his
ter coukl
liis hunt-
intent of

ight, and
lew reso-
l Dcrched

3e ; and,
traightest
se to the
en, draw-
the twig3
straight
nd of this
th thongs,
rap of his
e together.

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BASIL AND THE MOOSE BULL.— Pa<7<' 339.

ENCOUNTER WITH A MOOSE.

339

;n^

-r.-

This gave him a formidable weapon — for the knife
was a " bowic," and had a long blade, with a
point like a rapier. He was not slow in using
it. Descending again to the lowermost limbs, he
commenced making demonstrations, in order to
bring the moose within reach. This he very soon
succeeded in doing ; and the animal ran forward and
reared up against the tree. Before it could get
upon its four legs again, Basil had thrust it in the
neck, giving full force to the blow. The blood
rushed forth in a thick stream, as the jugular vein
had been cut by the keen blade ; and the huge
brute was seen to totter in its steps, and theii fall
with a dull heavy sound to the earth. In a few
moments the hunter had the satisfaction of per-
ceiving that it was quite dead.

Basil now dropped out of the tree, and walking
back to where his rifle lay, took up the piece and
carefully reloaded it. He then returned so the
moose, and opening the great jaws of the animal,
gaggod them with a stick. He next unspliced his
knife, took off the gristly lips, and cut out the longue.
Tliese he placed in hi« game-baiK, and shouldering
ha» nff»('. was about to depart ; when some new
itiea caused him to halt, put down his gun, and

■w^ww

mmm

jsmsBmrnm

340

ENCOUNTER WITH A MOOSE.

again unsheath his knife. Once more approaching
the carcass, he made an incision near the kidneys ;
and having inserted his hand, drew forth what
appeared to be a part of the intestines. It was the
bladder. He then looked around as if in search of
something. Presently his eye rested upon some
tall reed-grass that was growing near. This was
just what he wanted, and, pulling up one of the
stems, he cut and fashioned it into a pipe. With
this the moose-bladder was blown out to its full
dimensions, and tied at the neck by a piece of
thong. The other end of the thong was fastened
to one of the branches of the tree above, so that the
bladder dangled within a few feet of the carcass of
the moose, dancing about with the lightest breath of
wind. All these precautions Basil had taken to
keep the wolves from devouring the moose — for it
was his intention to return and butcher it, as
soon as he could get help. When he had hung
the bladder to his liking, he put up his knife
again ; and, once more shouldering his rifle, walked
off.

On reaching the camp — ^which he did shortly
after — the tongue of the moose was broiled
without delay, and, after making a delicious meal

ENCOUNTER WITH A MOOSE.

341

/■I

of it, the whole party went off for the remainder
of the meat. They found it all quite safe ;
although, had it not been for the bladder, not
much of it would have been there — as no less than
a dozen great gaunt wolves were seen lurking about,
and these would have eaten it up in the shortest
possible time. The bladder, however, had kept
them off ; for, strange to say, these creatures, who
are as cunning as foxes, and can hardly be trapped,
can yet be deceived and frightened by such
a simple thing as a bladder dangling from a
branch.

The moose proved to be one of the largest of his
kind. His height was quite equal to that of a horse;
and his horns, flattened out to the breadth, of shovels,
weighed over sixty pounds. His carcass was not
less than fifteen hundred pounds weight ; and our
voyageurs had to make two journeys to convey the
meat to their camp. On the last journey, Fran9ois
brought the porcupine as well — having found it on
the very same tree where Basil had left it !

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342

LIFE IN A LOG-HUT.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

LIFE IN A LOG-HUT.

The log -hut was finished on the 1st of Sep-
tember, and not a day too soon ; for on that very-
day the winter set in with full severity. A heavy
fall of snow came down in the night ; and next
morning, when our voyageurs looked abroad, the
ground was covered to the depth of a foot, or
more ; and the ice upon the lake was also white.
Walking through the great wreaths now became
very difficult ; and the next thing to be done was
the making of " snow-shoes."

Snow-shoes are an invention of the Indians ;
and, in the winter of the Arctic regions of America,
are an article almost as indispensable as clothing
itself. Without them, travelling a-foot would be
impossible. In these countries, as already stated,
the snow often covers the ground to the depth of

LIFE IN A LOG-HUT.

343

many feet ; and remains without any considerable
diminution for six, and, in some years, eight or nine
months. At times, it is frozen hard enough on the
surface to bear a man without the snow-shoes ; but
oftener on account of thaws and fresh falls, it
becomes quite soft, and at such times travelling
over it is both difficult and dangerous. To avoid
both the difficulty and the danger, the Indians make
use of this very singular sort of foot-wear — called
" snow-shoes " by the English, and " raquets " by
the Canadian voyageurs. They are used by all
the Indian tribes of the Hudson's Bay territory ;
and were it not for them these people would be
confined to one place for months together, and
could not follow the deer or other game. As
almost all savages are improvident, and none more
so than the North American Indians, were they
prevented for a season from going out to hunt,
whole tribes would starve. Indeed, many indi-
viduals of them perish with hunger as it is ; and
the life of all these Indians is nothing more
than one continued struggle for food enough to
sustain them. In summer they are often in the
midst of plenty ; slaughtering deer and buffalo
by hundreds, taking out only the tongues, and

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344

LIFE IN A LOG-HUT.

recklessly leaving the flesh to the wolves I In
winter the very same Indians may be seen without
a pound of meat in their encampment — the lives of
themselves and their families depending upon the
success of a single day's hunt !

But let us return to the snow-shoes. Let us see
what they are, and learn how they are made.

Any boy who has snared sparrows in snow-time,
has, no doubt, done so by tying his snares upon a
hoop netted across with twine or other small cord.
Now, if he will conceive his hoop bent into an
oblong shape — something like what the figure of a
boat turned on its mouth would make in snow —
and if he will also fancy the netting to consist of
thongs of twisted deer-hide woven somewhat closely
together, he will get a very good idea of an Indian
snow-shoe. It is usually from three to four feet
long, by about a foot wide at the middle part, from
which it tapers gently to a point, both at the heel
and toe. The frame, as I have said, is like the
hoop of a boy's bird-snare. It is made of light,
tough wood, and, of course, carefully bent and
polished with the knife. The slender branches of
the " scrub-pine " {Pinus Banksiana) are esteemed
excellent for this purpose, as their wood is light,

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LIFE IN A LOG-HUT.

345

flexible and tough in its fibres. This is also
a favourite tree, where it grows, to make tent-
poles, canoe-timbers, and other implements required
hy the Indians ; and these people use so much of
it for their arrows, that it has received from the
Canadian voyageurs the name of bois de Jleche
(arrow-wood).

Well, then, the frame of the snow-shoes being
bent to its proper shape, two transverse bars are
placed across near the middle, and several inches
from each other. They are for the foot to rest
upon, as well as to give strength to the whole
structure. These being made fast, the netting is
woven on, and extends over the whole frame,
with the exception of a little space in front of
the bars where the ball of the foot is to rest.
This space is left free of netting, in order to allow
play to the toes while walking. The mesh-work is
made of thongs usually cut from the parchment-
skin of a deer, and twisted. Sometimes twisted
intestines are used, and the netting exactly re-
sembles that seen in " racquets " for ball play.

The snow-shoe, when finished, is simply fastened
upon the foot by means of straps or thongs ; and a
pair of them thus placed, will present a surface to

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LIFE IN A LOG-HUT.

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the snow of nearly six square feet — more, if
required, by making them larger. But this is
enough to sustain the heaviest man upon the softest
snow, and an Indian thus " shod " will skim over
the surface like a skater.

The shoes used by all tribes of Indians are not
alike in shape. There are fashions and fancies
in this respect. Some are made — as among the
Chippewa Indians — with one side of the frame
nearly straight ; and these, of course, will not do
for either foot, but are " rights and lefts." Gene-
rally, however, the shape is such that the snow-
shoe will fit either foot.

The snow-shoes having now become a necessary
thing, our young voyageurs set about making a com-
plete set for the whole party — that is, no less than
four pairs. Norman was the " shoemaker," and
Norman knew how. He could splice the frames,
and work in the netting, equal to an Indian squaw.
Of course all the others assisted him. Lucien cut
the moose-skin into fine regular strips; Basil waded
off through the snow, and procured the frames
from the wood of the scrub-pine trees where he
had encountered the porcupine ; and then he and
Fran9ois trimmed them with their knives, and

LIFE IN ▲ LOG-HUT.

347

Rweated them in the hot ashes until they became
dry, and ready for the hands of the " shoemaker."

This work occupied them several days, and
then each had a pair of shoes fitted to his size and
weight.

The next consideration was, to lay in a stock of
meat. The moose had furnished them with enough
for present use, but that would not last long, as
there was no bread nor anything else to eat with
it. Persons in their situation require a great deal
of meat to sustain them, much more than those who
live in great cities, who eat a variety of substances,
and drink many kinds of drinks. The healthy
voyageur is rarely without a keen appetite ; and
meat by itself is a food that speedily digests, and
makes way for a fresh meal; so that the ration
usually allowed to the employes of the fur com-
panies would appear large enough to supply the
table of several families. For instance, in some
parts of the Hudson's Bay territory, the voy-
ageur is allowed eight pounds of buffalo-meat jacr
diem ! And yet it is all eaten by him, and
sometimes deemed barely sufficient. A single deer,
therefore, or even a buffalo, lasts a party of
voyageurs for a very short time, since they

348

LIFE IN A LOG-HUT.

( (

i I

have no other substance, such as bread or vege-
tables, to help it out. It was necessary, then, that
our travellers should use all their diligence in
laying up a stock of dried meat, before the winter
became too cold for them to hunt. There was
another consideration — their clothing. They all
had clothing sufficient for such weather as they
had yet experienced j but that would never do for
the winter of the Great Slave Lake, and they knew
it. Many deer must be killed, and many hides
dressed, before they could make a full set of
clothing for all, as well as a set of deer-skin
blankets, which would be much needed.

As soon as the snow-shoes were finished, there-
fore, Basil and Norman went out each day upon long
hunting expeditions, from which they rarely re-
turned before nightfall. Sometimes they bronght
with them a deer, of the caribou or reindeer
species, and the "woodland" variety, which were
plenty at this place. They only carried to camp
the best parts with the skin, as the flesh of the
woodland caribou is not much esteemed. It is
larger than the other kind — the " Barren Ground
caribou," weighing about one hundred and fifty
pounds ; but both its venison and hide are of

LIFE IN A LOG-HUT.

349

inferior quality to those of the latter species.
Sometimes our hunters killed smaller game ; and
on several occasions they returned without having
emptied their guns at all. But there was one day
that made up for several — ore grand day when
they were extremely successful, and on which
they killed a whole herd of moose, consisting of
five individuals — the old bull, a spike buck — that
is, a young buck, whose horns had not yet got
antlers upon them — the cow, and two calves«
These they had tracked and followed for a long
distance, and had succeeded, at length, in running
into a valley where the snow was exceedingly deep,
and where the moose became entangled. There
had been a shower of rain the day before that
had melted the surface of the snow ; and this had
again frozen into an icy crust, upon which the deer
lacerated their ankles at every plunge, leaving a
track of blood behind them as they ran. Under
these circumstances they were easily trailed, and
Basil and Norman, skimming along upon their snow-
shoes, soon came up with them, and shot first one
and then another, until the whole herd were
stretched in the valley. They then butchered
them, and hung the hides and quarters upon high

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350

LIFE IN A LOG-HUT.

• I

branches, so as to secure them from wolves and
wolverenes. When the job was finished, the whole
place looked like a great slaughter-yard ! Next
day a rude sledge was constructed ; and the voy-
ageurs, returning in full force, transported the
meat to camp. Huge fires were kindled out-
side the hut, and several days were spent in
cutting up and drying the flesh. Had our travel-
lers been certain that the frost would have
continued all winter, inis would not have been
necessary — since the meat was already frozen as
hard as a brick. But they knew that a sudden
thaw would spoil it ; and, as there was plenty of
-^ood firewood on the spot, they were not going to
run the risk of losing it in that way.

They had now enough provision to last them for
months ; and hunting became no longer necessary,
except to obtain fresh meat — which was, of course,
preferable to the dry stock. Hunting, also, gave
them exercise and amusement — both of which
were necessary to their health ; for to remain idle
and inactive in a situation such as that in which
they were placed is the worst possible plan, and
is sure to engender 'both sickness and ennui.
Indeed, the last grew upon them, notwithstanding

LIFE IN A LOG-HUT.

351

all the pains they took to prevent it. There were
days on which the cold was so extreme, that they
could not put their noses out of the door without
the danger of having them frost-bitten — although
each had now a complete suit of deer-skin clothing,
made by Lucien, the " tailor" of the party. Upon
such days they were fain to remain shut up in their
hut ; and, seated around their huge log-fire, they
passed the time in cleaning their guns, mending
their nets, stitching their clothes, and such-like
employments. These days were far from being,
their dullest ; for, what with the varied and scientific
knowledge of Lucien, which he took pleasure in
imparting to his companions — what with the prac-
tical experience of Norman amid scenes of Arctic
life, and the many " voyageur tales" he could tell —
what wi-.A Francois' merry jokes and bon mots —
and what with Basil's talent for listening — not the
least important element in a good conversazione^ —
our quartette of young voyageurs found their in-
door days anything but dull.

This was all well enough for a while. For a
month or two they bore their odd kind of life cheer-
fully enough ; but the prospect of nearly six months
more of it began to appal them, when they reflected

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352

LIFE IN A LOO-HUT.

upon it ; and they soon found themselves longing for
a change. Hunting adventures, that at other times
would have interested them, now occurred without
creating any excitement ; and the whole routine of
their employments seemed monotonous. Nearly all
of them were boys of an active character of mind ;
and most of them were old enough to reason about
the value of time. Their idea of such a long isola-
tion from civilized life, and, above all, the being
debarred from following any useful pursuit, began
to impress some of them forcibly. Others, as
Fran9ois, could not be contented for a very great
stretch of time with any sort of life ; so that all
of them began to sigh for a change.

One day, while conversing upon this theme, a
bold proposal was made by Basil. It was, that
they should " strike camp," and continue their
journey. This proposal took the others by surprise,
but they were all just in the frame of mind to
entertain and discuss it; and a long consultation
was held upon the point. Fran9ois chimed in with
the proposal at once ; while Lucien, more cautious,
did not exactly oppose, but rather offered the
reasons that were against it, and pointed out the
perils of the undertaking. Norman, of course, was

LIFE m A LOG-HUT.

353

I (

appealed to— all of them looking to him as one
whose advice, upon that question at least, was
more valuable than their own.

Norman admitted the dangers pointed out by
Lucien, but bilieved that they might overcome
them by a proper caution. On the whole, Norman
approved of the plan, and it was at length adopted.
Perhaps Norman's habitual prudence was to some
extent influenced on this occasion by the very
natural desire he had of returning to what he con-
sidered his home. He had now been absent nearly
two years, and was desirous of once more seeing
his father and his old companions at the Fort.
There was another feeling that influenced nearly
all of them : that was ambition. They knew that
to make such a journey would be something of a
feat, and they wished to have the credit of per-
forming it. To minds like that of Basil, even the
danger had something attractive in it. It was
resolved then to break up the encampment, and
continue their journey.

•*■ ■:

▲ A

m^^^mmmfm^

354

TRAVELLXNG ON SNOW-SHOES.

CHAPTER XXIX.

TRAVELLING ON SNOW-SHOES.

Once their resolution was taken, they lost but little
time in making preparations to carry it out.
Most of the articles required for such a journey
were already in their hands. They had the proper
dresses — snow-shoes, skin-blankets, and gloves.
They had prepared for themselves sets of " snow
spectacles." These were made out of red cedar-
wood. Each pair consisted of two small thin
pieces, that covered the eyes, joined together and
fastened on by thongs of buckskin. In each piece
an oblong slit served for the eye-hole, through
which the eye looked without being dazzled by the
snow. Without this, or some like contrivance,
travelling in the Arctic regions is painful to the
eyes, and the traveller often loses his sight. Indeed,
one of the most common infirmities of both the

TRAYELLINO ON SNOW-SHOES.

355

Indians and Esquimaux of these parts is blindness
or soreness of the eyes, caused by the reflexion of
the sunbeams from the crystals of tl.j frozen snow.
Norman was aware of this, and had made the spec-
tacles to guard against this peril. Out of their
spare skins they had made a small tent. This was
to be carried along by Marengo in a light sledge,
which they had long since constructed, and taught
the dog to draw. Nothing else remained but to
pack their provisions in the smallest bulk possible,
and this was done, according to the custom of the
country, by making " pemmican." The dry meat
was first pounded until it became a powder ; it
was then put into small skin bags, made for the
purpose, and the hot melted fat was poured in and
well mixed with it. This soon froze hard, and the
mixture — that resembled " potted meat," — was
now ready for use, and would keep for an inde-
finite time without the least danger of spoiling.
Buffalo-beef, moose-meat, or venison of any sort,
thus prepared, is called " pemmican" and is more
portable in this shape than any other. Besides no
further cooking is required — an important conside-
ration upon those vast prairie deserts, where fire-

r r

d66

TRAVELLING ON SNOW-SHOES.

wood is seldom to be procured without the trouble
of carrying it a great distance.

Norman, who was the maker of the pemmican,
had produced a superior article upon this occa-
sion. Besides the pounded meat and fat, he had
mixed another ingredient with it, which rendered
it a most delicious food. This third ingredient
was a small purple-coloured berry — of which we
have already spoken — not unlike the whortle-
berry, but sweeter and of a higher flavour. It
grows through most of the Northern regions of
America ; and in some places, as upon the Red
River and the Elk, the bushes that produce it are
seen in great plenty. When in flower, they appear
almost white, so thickly are they covered with
blossoms. The leaves are small, and generally
of an oval shape ; but there are several varieties of
the bush, some of them having the dimensions and
form of treeSj of twenty-five feet in height. The
berries have received different names in different
parts of America. They are known as " shad-
berries," " June-berries," "service-berries," and by
the Canadian voyageurs they are called " le poire."
Even the botanists have given them a great variety

TRAYELLINO ON SNOW-SHOES.

357

of names, as pyrusy mespilusy aroniay cratipgus,
and amelanchier. No matter which may bo the
best name, it is enough to know that these little
berries are delicious to eat when fresh, and when
dried, after the manner of currants, arc excellent
to mix in puddings, as well as in pemmicun.

Previous to the setting in of winter, our voy-
ageurs had collected a large bagful upoii the banks
of the iLiii, which they had dried and stored away —
expecting to stand in need of them for this very
purpose. They now came into use, and enabled
Norman to make his pemmican of the very choicest
quality. Five bags of it were put up, each weigh-
ing over thirty pounds. One of these was to be
drawn upon the sledge, along with the tent, the
axe, and a few other articles. The rest were to be
carried by the voyageurs themselves — each shoul-
dering one, which, along with their guns and
accoutrements, would be load enough.

These arrangements being at length complete,
the party bid adieu to their log-hut — gave a
parting look to their little canoe, which still rested
by the door — and then, shouldering their guns
and bags of pemmican, set out over the frozen
surface of the snow.

r^i

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358

x'RAYELLINO ON SNOW-SHOES.

Of course before starting they had decided
upon the route they were to take. This deci-
sion, however, had not been arrived at until after
much discussion. Lucien advised that they should
follow the shore of the lake until they should
reach the Mackenzie River — which of course was
now frozen up. Its channel, he argued, would
then guide them; and, in case their provisions
should run short, they would be more likely to
find game upon its banks than elsewhere, as these
were wooded almost to the sea — in consequence of
its head-waters rising in southern latitudes, and
carrying with them a warmer climate.

There was plausibility in Lucien's argument,
combined with much prudence. Norman, however,
advised a contrary course. He said that they
would have to make a considerable journey west-
ward before reaching the place where the Mac-
kenzie River flows out of the lake; and, moreover,
he knew that the river itself was very crooked —
in some places winding about in great curves, whose
ends come near meeting each other. Should they
keep the course of the river, Norman believed it
would almost double their journey. A much shorter
route, he said, would be obtained by striking

TRAVELLING ON SNOW-SHOES.

359

f I'

across the country in a north-westerly direction,
so as to reach the Mackenzie near where another
great stream — the River of the Mountains —
empties into it from the west. This would cer-
tainly be a more direct route, and they would
avoid the windings of the river channel.

Norman's reasoning prevailed. Basil and Fran-
9ois readily agreed to his plan, and Lucien at length
also gave his assent, but with some reluctance.
Nonnan knew nothing whatever of the route he
was advising them to take. His former journeys
up and down the Mackenzie had been made in
sununer, and of course he had travelled byjcanoe,
in company with the traders and voyageurs. He
only knew that to strike across the country
would be the shorter way. But " the shortest
way is not always the nearest," says the proverb;
and although Lucien remembered this prudent
maxim, the others did not give it a thought.
Before the end of their journey they received a
practical leason of its wisdom — a lesson they were
not likely to forget. But they knew not what was
before them, and they started off in high spirits.
Their firat three or four days* journeys were
without any event worth being chronicled. They

360

TBAYELLINa ON SNOW-SHOES.

travelled full twenty miles each day. The
Southerners had become quite skilful in the ma-
nagement of their snow-shoes, and they skimmed
along upon the icy crust at the rate of three or
four miles an hour. Marengo and his sledge
gave them very little trouble. There was full
sixty pounds weight upon it; but to the huge
dog this was a mere bagatelle, and he pulled it
after him without any great strain. His harness
was neatly made of moose-skin, and consisted of
a collar with a back strap and traces — the traces
meeting behind, where they were attached to the
head of the sledge. No head-gear was necessary,
as Marengo needed not to be either led or driven.
The sledge consisted of two or three light planks
of smooth wood, laid alongside each other, and
held together by transverse bands. In front it
turned up with a circular sweep, so as not to
"plough" the snow; and at the top of this curved
part the traces were adjusted. The load was, of
course, carefully packed and tied, so that the
overturning of the vehicle did no damage what-
ever, and it could be easily righted again. Ma-
rengo required no one to guide him, but followed
quietly in the tracks of the snow-shoes, and thus

f^wm

TRAVELLING ON SNOW-SHOES.

361

avoided the trees, rocks, and other inequalities.
K a rabbit or other creature started up, Marengo
knew better than to go galloping after it; he felt
that he had a more important duty i,o perform
than to throw away his time upon rabbit-hunting.
Each night a spot was chosen for the camp by
the side of some lake or stream, where wood
could be obtained for their fire. Water was got
by breaking a hole in the ice, and the little tent
was always set up in a sheltered situation.

Upon the fifth day after leaving the log-hut
the woods began to grow thinner and more
straggling; and towards night of the samo day
they found themselves travelling through a coun-
try, where the timber only grew here and there in
small clumps, and the individual trees were small
and stunted. Next day still less timber was seen
upon their route ; and when camping-time came,
they were obliged to halt at a spot where nothing
but willows could be procured for their fire. They
had, in fact, arrived upon the edge of that vast
wilderness, the Barren Grounds, which stretches
in all its wild desolation along the Northern half
of the American continent (from the Great Slave
Lake even to the shores of the Arctic Sea on the

S62

TRAVELLING ON 3N0W-SH0ES.

north, and to those of Hudson's Bay on the east).
This territory bears an appropriate name, for, per-
haps, upon the whole surface of the earth there is
no tract more barren or desolate — not even the
Saara of Africa. Both are deserts of immense
extent, equally difficult to cross, and equally dan-
gerous to the traveller. On both the traveller
often perishes, but from different causes. On
the Saara it is thirst that kills ; upon the Barren
Grounds hunger is more frequently the destroyer.
In the latter there is but little to be feared on
the score of water. That exists in great plenty ;
or where it is not found, snow supplies its place.
But there is water everywhere. Hill succeeds
hill, h?eak, rocky, and bare. Everywhere granite,
gneiss, or other primitive rocks, show themselves.
No vegetation covers the steep declivities of the hills,
except the moss and lichen upon the rocks, a few
willows upon the banks of streams, the dwarf
birch-tree {Betula nana\ or the scrub-pines, rising
only to the height of a few inches, and often
straggling over the earth like vines. Every hill
has its valley, and every valley its lake — dark,
and deep, and silent — in winter scarce to be dis-
tinguished under the snow-covered ice. The

'i"»-(iW-'i'-'1f'J.W'*

III.. ,P,'J.W^

TRAYELLINO ON SNOW-SHOES.

363

prospect in every direction exhibits a surface of
rocks, or bleak hills, half covered with snow. The
traveller looks around and sees no life. He listens
and hears no sound. The world appears dead
and wrapped in its cold winding-sheet!

Amidst just such scenes did our voyageurs find
themselves on the seventh day after parting from
the lake. They had heard of the Barren Grounds,
— ^had heard many fearful stories of the sufferings of
travellers who had attempted to cross them; but
the description had fallen far short of the actual
reality. None of them could believe in the diffi-
culties to be encountered, and the desolateness of
the scene they were to witness, until now that
they found themselves in its midst; and, as they
proceeded on their journey, getting farther and
farther from the wooded region, their apprehen-
sions, already aroused by the wild aspect of the
- antry, grew stronger and stronger. They began
to entertain serious fears, for they knew not how
far the barren tract extended along their route.
On calculation they found they had provisions
enough to last them for r. month. That in some
measure restored their confidence; but even then,
they could not help giving way to serious re-

364

TRAVELLING ON SNOW-SHOES.

•

flections. Should they get lost or retarded in
their course by mountains, or other obstacles, it
might take them longer than a month to reach some
place where game was to be met with. Each
day, as they advanced, they found the country
more hilly and difficult. Precipices often bounded
the valleys, lying directly across their track; and
as these could not be scaled, it was necessary to
make long detours to pass them, so that some
days they actually advanced less than five miles
upon their journey.

Notwithstanding these impediments, they might
still have got over the Barren Grounds without
further suffering than the fatigue and necessary
exposure to cold; but at this time an incident
occurred, that not only frustrated all their cal-
culations, but placed them in imminent danger of
perishing.

THE BARREN GROUNDS.

865

CHAPTER XXX.

THE BARREN GROUNDS.

The Barren Grounds are not entirely destitute of
animal life. Even in winter — when t'ney are almost
covered with snow, and you would suppose that no
living creature could procure subsistence upon
them — even then they have their denizens ; and,
strange to say, there are many animals that choose
them for their home. There is no part of the earth's
surface so sterile but that some animated being can
find a living upon it, and such a being Nature
adapts to its peculiar situation. For instance, there
are animals that prefer the very desert itself, and
would not thrive were you to place them in a
country of mild climate and fertile soil. In our

own species this peculiarity is also found — as the

'iti
Esquimaux would not be happy were you to trans-
plant him ^rom his icy hut amidst the snows of

, ',!■ , ■"■'TWW

366

THE BARREN GROUNDS.

\ t

( '

/ •

the Arctic regions, and give him a palace under
the genial skies of Italy.

Among other creatures that remain all winter
upon the Barren Grounds are the wolves. How
they exist there is almost a question of the natu-
ralists. It is true they prey upon other animals
found at times in the same district ; but wolves
have been met with where not the slightest traces
of other living creatures could be seen!

There is no animal more generally distributed
over the earth's surface than the wolf. He exists
in nearly every country, and most likely has at one
time existed in all. In America there are wolves
in its three zones. They are met with from Cape
Horn to the farthest point northward that man
has reached. They are common in the tropical
forests of Mexico and South America. They
range over the great prairies of the temperate zones
of both divisions of the continent, and in the colder
regions of the Hudson's Bay territory they are
among the best known of wild animals. They
frequent the mountains, they gallop over the plains,
they skulk through the valleys, they dwell every-
where — everywhere the wolf seems equally at
home. In North America two very different

THE BARREJX OB0Uin>S.

867

1 1-

kinds are known. One is the ''prairie*' or
"barking" wolf, which we have abeadj met
with and described. The other species is the
"common" or "large" wolf; but it is not de-
cided among naturalists that there are not several
distinct species of the latter. At all events, there
are several varieties of it — distinguished from each
other in size, colour, and even to some extent in
form. The habits of all, however, appear to be
similar, and it is a question, whether any of these
varieties be permanent or only accidental. Some
of them, it is well known, are accidental — as wolves
differing in colour have been found in the same
litter — but late explorers, of the countries around
and beyond the Rocky Mountains, have discovered
one or two kinds that appear to be specifically
distinct from the common wolf of America — one
of them, the " dusky wolf," being much larger.

This last is said to resemble the wolf of Europe
(the [Pyrenean wolf, Canis lupus) more than the
other American wolves do — for there is a consider-
able difference between the wolves of the two
continents. Those of the Northern regions of
America have shorter ears, a broader snout and
forehead, and are of a stouter make, than the Euro-

\ ■

■>:

368

THE BARREN GROUNDS.

i^:

11 •

pean wolves. Their fur, too, is finer, denser, and
longer ; their tails more bushy and fox-like; and
their feet broader. The European wolf, on the
contrary, is characterized by a gaunt appearance, a
pointed snout, long jaws, high ears, long legs, and
feet very narrow. It is possible, notwithstanding
these points of difference, that both may be of
the same species, the difference arising from a want
of similitude in the circumstances by which they
are surrounded. For instance, the dense wool of
the Hudson's Bay wolf may be accounted for by the
fact of its colder habitat, and its broader feet may be
the result of its having to run much upon the sur-
face of the snow. The writer of this little book
believes that this peculiar adaptation of Nature —
which may be observed in all her kingdoms — ^may
explain the difference that exists between the
wolves of the Northern parts of America and those
of the South of Europe. He believes, moreover,
that those of the Southern parts of the American
continent approximate more nearly to the Pyre-
nean wolves, as he has seen in the tropical forests
of Mexico some that possessed all that "gaunt"
form and "sneaking" aspect that characterize
the latter. It would be interesting to inquire

THE BARREN GROUNDS.

369

whether the wolves of Siberia and Lapland, inha-
biting a similar climate to that of the Northern
parts of America, do not possess the same peculi-
arities as the North American kind — a point which
naturalists have not yet considered, and which you,
my boy reader, may some day find both amusement
and instruction in determining for yourself.

With regard to colour the wolves of both conti-
nents exhibit many varieties. In North America
there are more than half-a-dozen colours of them,
all receiving different names. There is the " grey
wolf," the "white," the "brown," the "dusky," the
" pied," and the " black." These trivial names will
give a good enough idea of the colours of each kind,
but there are even varieties in their markings.
"Yellow" wolves, too, have been seen, and "red"
ones, and some of a " cream colour." Of all these the
grey wolf is the most common, and is par excellence
the wolf; but there are districts in which indivi-
duals of other colours predominate. Wolves purely
black are plenty in mjiny parts, and white wolves
are often seen in large packs.

Even those of the same colour differ in size, and
that to a considerable extent. And, what is also
strange, large wolves will be found in one district

B B

spw^

370

THE BARREN GROUNDS.

' !

of country, while much smaller ones of the same
colour and species inhabit another. The largest in
size of American wolves are about six feet in
length, the tail included; and about three feet in
height, measuring to the tips of the standing fur.
The tail is usually about one-third of the whole
length.

The habits of the American wolf are pretty much
like those of his European cousin. He is a beast of
prey, devouring all the smaller animals he < i lay
hold of. He pursues and overtakes the deer, and
often runs down the fox and makes a meal of it.
He will kill and cat Indian dogs, although these are
so near his own species that the one is often taken for
the other. But this is not all, for he will even eat
his own kind, on a pinch. He is as cunning as the
fox himself, and as cowardly; but at times, when
impelled by hunger, he becomes bolder, and has
been known to attack man. Instances of this kind,
however, are rare.

The American wolves burrow, and, like the fox,
have several entrances to their holes. A litter of
young wolves numbers five puppies, but as many as
eight are often produced at one birth.

During their journey through the Barren

THE BARREN GROUNDS.

I t

371

le fox,
Itter of
lany as

(Barren

Grounds our voyageurs had frequently observed
wolves. They were mostly grey ones, and of great
size, for they were travelling through a district
where the very largest kind is found. At times
they saw a party of five or six together ; and
these appeared to be following upon their trail
— as each night, when they came barking about
the camp, our travellers recognised some of them
as having been seen before. They had made no
attempt to shoot any of them — partly because
they did not want either their skins or flesh, and
partly because their ammunition had been reduced to
a small quantity, and they did not wish to spend it
unnecessarily. The wolves, therefore, were allowed
to approach very near the camp, and howl as much
as they liked — which thej' usually did throughout
the livelong night. What they found to allure them
after our travellers, the latter could not make out ;
as they had not shot an animal of any kind since
leaving the lake, and scarcely a scrap of anything
was ever left behind them. Perhaps the wolves
were living upon hope.

One evening our travellers had made their camp on
the side of a ridge — ^which they had just crossed —
and under the shelter of some rough rocks. There

"'-'^'mmmmmm.

i I

l I

372

THE BARREN GROUNDS.

was no wood in the neighbourhood whorewith to
make a fire ; but they had scraped tlie snow from
the place over which their tent was pitched, and
under it their skins were spread upon the ground.
As the tent was a very small one, Marengo's sledge,
with the utensils and pemmican bags, was always
left outside close by the opening. Mareiigo himself
slept there, and that was considered sufficient to
secure all these things from wolves, or any other
creatures that might be prowling about.

On the evening in question, the sledge was in its
usual place — the dog having been taken from it —
and as our voyageurs had not yet had their supper,
the pemmican bags were lying loosely about, one or
two of them being open. There was a small rivu-
let at the foot of the ridge — some two hundred
paces distant — and Basil and Fran<;ois had gone
down to it to get water. One of them took the
axe to break the ice with, while the other carried a
vessel. On arriving- near the bank of the rivulet,
the attention of the boys was attracted to a singular
appearance upon the snow. A fresh shower had
fallen that morning, and the surface was still soft,
and very smooth. Upon this they observed double
lines of little dots, running in different directions,

THE BARREN GROUNDS.

373

which, upon close inspection, appeared to be the
tracks of some animal. At first, Basil and Francois
could hardly believe them to be such, the tracks
were so very small. They had never seen so. small
ones before — those of a mouse being quite double tlie
size. But when they looked more closely at them,
the boys could distinguish the marks of five little
toes with claws upon them, which left no doubt
upon their minds that some Ifving creature, and
that a very diminutive one, must have passed over
the spot. Indeed, had the snow not been both fine-
j_Tained and soft, the feet of such a creature could
not have made any impression upon it.

The boys stopped and looked around, thinking
they might see the animal itself. There was a
wide circle of snow around them, and its surface
was smooth and level ; but not a speck upon it
betrayed the presence of any creature.

"Perhaps it was a bird," said Fran9ois, "and
has taken flight."

" I think not," rejoined Basil. " They are not
the tracks of a bird. Tt is some animal that has
gone under the snow, I fancy."

" But I see no hole," said Fran9ois, " where even

^ismm

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B^^^Wff^M

}

\ \

374

THE BARREN GROUNDS.

a beetle could have gone down.

Let us look for

one.

>»

At Francois' suggestion, they walked on follow-
ing one of the dotted lines. Presently they came
to a place, where a stalk of long grass stood up
through the snow — its seedless panicle just appear-
ing above the surface. Round this stalk a little
hole had been formed — partly by the melting of the
snow, and partly by the action of the wind upon
the panicle — and into this hole the tracks led. It
was evident that the animal, whatever it was,
must have gone down the culm of the grass in
making its descent from the surface of the snow !
They now observed another track going yVom the
hole in an opposite direction, which showed that
the creature had climbed up in the same way.
Curious to know what it might have been, the
boys hailed Lucien and Norman, telling them to
come down. These, followed by Marengo, soon
arrived upon the spot. When Lucien saw the
tracks, he pronounced them at once to be those of
the little shrew-mouse (^Sorex parvus), the smallest
of all the quadrupeds of America. Several of them
had evidently been out upon the snow — as there

THE BARREN GROUNDS.

375

were other dotted lines — and the tops of many stalks
of grass were seen above the surface, each of
which had formed a little hole around it, by which
the mice were enabled to get up and down.

Norman, who had seen these little animals before,
cautioned his companions to remain quiet awhile,
and perhaps some of them might come to the
surface. They all stopped therefore, and stood
some time without moving, or speaking to one
another. Presently, a little head not much bigger
than a pea was seen peeping up, and then a body
followed, which in size did not exceed that of a
large gooseberry ! To this a tail was suspended,
just one inch in length, of a square shape, and
tapering from root to point, like that of any
other mouse. The little creature was covered with
a close smooth fur, of a clove -brown colour above,
but more yellowish upon the belly and sides ; and
was certainly, as it sat upon the even surface of
the snow, the most diminutive and oddest-looking
quadruped that any of the party had ever beheld.

They were just whispering to one another what
means they should use to capture it, when Marengo,
whom Basil had been holding quiet, all at once
uttered a loud bay; and, springing out of the hands

apnp

mmSmSmm

376

THE BARREN GROUNDS.

of his master, galloped off towards the camp. All
of them looked after, wondering what had started
the dog ; but his strange behaviour was at once
explained, and to their consternation. Around the
tent, and close to its entrance, several large wolves
were seen. They were leaping about hurriedly,
and worrying some objects that lay upon the
ground. What these objects were was too plain.
They were the bags of pemmican ! Part of their
contents was seen stre^v^ed over the snow, and part
was already in the stomachs of the wolves.

The boys uttered a simultaneous shout, and ran
forward. Marengo was by this time among the
wolves, and had set fiercely upon one of them. Had
his masters not been at hand, the fierce brutes would
soon have settled the account with Marengo. But
the former were now close by, and the wolves, seeing
them, ran off; but, to the consternation of the boys,
each of them carried off a bag of the pemmican in
his mouth with as much lightness and speed as if
nothing encumbered them !

" We are lost ! " cried Norman, in a voice of
terror. " Our provisions are gone ! — all gone 1 "

It was true. The next moment the wolves dis-
appeared over the summit of the ridge ; and al-

-■r^'r.-f^''a*^*-T'\-^- >

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ip. All
[ started
at once
)und the
e wolves
urriedly,
poii the
)o plain,
of their
and part

and ran
long the
m. Had
es would
;o. But
s, seeing
;he boys,
nican in
sed as if

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voice of
fone I "
Ives dis-
and al-

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the (lug; hv- '• .-"!»'«'„. '-i luiN ii)i:r was at </uce

t'Xptuuu'il, arj ^ ; ■,.
ti'Uij and ci'.y; ;.r ;(
vere !<r'< u i i

'{ JH'V SVC- ^ .:.; .,,;.•

•'' •■': .,-■■■ . ' .

''-. -vvi lai lav;;*' W'dvcs

H jjiiit'jf ii\) )\\\ liurrio'lly,

•H f :>* th.'i! lU) tri'iM! iht,'

'- ;;^''t'l* "vi M.* u'.'is iin) plaiii.

Oi't ,i' ■>' iiu' ■wi ivc,',

t,;ii.^; ' 's.>- Jiour. and ran

!' .e uuioiig tiio

^voivt•^ and had SCI. li.'rcci'; 5s ii 'i.'' ot* I'iient, Had
liin ma-^h-i'.v nofb<'(.n .11 X-uhuj, t"; li(.r<.' brutv'n u-ui'Kl
soon li.tvc .-••tik-d the account wih jMar/'ru't. .I'lit
■i[K> i«)nmv\ven' u>wc!ust> bv, ai'd tho \\uiv<-.. sii: ifii:
iiuiii, J*;!T! oiV; bu(, :'? tin* , 01 -i- ri-ritnui ut'ilie tiviy.-^,
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iii.^ -nnm]! \'.ith ;! : liiiifh lij^lu; .r.-;i8 auf' ■■.- .-I i?8 if
iioiliin!:: '.'iicuiiini.T .1 iK':jii !

'' \V( uro lost'" rti'-'d ISuiMiiiM, ill H .•, ;*>.; of

It was true. '! ■ • ::^:-%i n'-tm- ..>* =4"*Iveb di^-

jii»pc'ar'd «M(T tiie •:;,ia:'!t •.;' * ; , :• i -Mid fd-

All

utijid til''

(• >.V'ilv'(S

tji-rlc'lly,
I'd! ihc

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THE BABBEN GROUNDS.

377

though each of the boys had seized his gun, and
ran after, the pursuit proved an idle one. Not a
wolf was overtaken.

Scarce a scrap of the pemmican had been left
— only some fragments that had been gnawed by
the ravenous brutes, and scattered over the snow.
That night our travellers went to bed supperless j
and, what with hunger, and the depression of spirits
caused by this incident, one and all of them kept
awake nearly the whole of the night.

,1:

378

THE ROCK-TRIPE.

) i

CHAPTER XXXI.

THE BOCK -TRIPE.

They left their skin-couch at an early hour, close
after daybreak. Hunger and anxiety drove them
out of their tent. Not a morsel of anything for
breakfast ! They looked abroad over the country,
in order, if possible, to descry some living creature.
None could be seen — nothing but the wilderness
waste of snow, with here and there the side of a
steep hill, or a rock showing cold and bleak. Even
the wolves that had robbed them were no longer to
be seen, as if these creatures knew that they had
got all that was worth having, and had now taken
themselves off to hunt for plunder elsewhere.

The situation of our travellers was really one of
extreme peril, although it may be difficult for you,
young reader, to conceive why it should be so.
They, however, knew it well. They knew that

) t

THE ROCK-TRIPE.

379

they might travel for days through that inhos>
pitable region, without falling in with anything
that would make a single meal for them. But less
time than that would suffice to starve them all.
Already they felt the pangs of hunger — for they
had not eaten since their breakfast of the pre-
ceding day, the wolves having interrupted their
preparations for dinner.

It was of no use remaining where they were ; so,
striking their tent once more, they travelled for-
ward. It was but poor consolation to them that
they travelled much lighter than before. They had
nothing to carry but their guns, and these they had
got ready for work — so that their journey partook
somewhat of the character of a hunting excursion.
They did not even follow a direct course, but occa-
sionally turned to one side or the other, wherever
a clump of willows, or any other roughness on the
ground, looked like it might be the shelter of game.
But during that whole day — although they tra-
velled from near sunrise to sunset — not a living
thing was seen ; and for the second night they
went supperless to bed.

A man will bear hunger for many days — some
more, some less — without actually dying of it j but

380

THE ROCK-TRIPE.

at no period will his sufforings be greater than
during the third or fourth day. Ho will grow
more feeble aftei-wards, but the pain which he
endures will not bo greater.

On the third day the sufferings of our party
were extreme. They began to chew pieces of
their skin-tent and blankets ; but although this
took the sharp edge off their appetites, it added
nothing to their strength ; and they still craved
for food, and grew feebler.

To use a poetical phrase, Marengo now became
the " cynosure of every eye." Marengo was not very
fat. The sledge and short rations had thinned
him down, and his ribs could be easily traced.
Although the boys, and Basil in particular, would
have suffered much before sacrificing him, yet
starvation will reconcile a man to part with his
best friend. In spite of their friendship for Ma-
rengo, his masters could not help scanning him
from time to time with hungry looks. Marengo
was an old dog, and, no doubt, as tough as a
piece of tan-leather ; but their appetites were
made up for anything.

It was near midday. They had started early,
as on the day before. They were trudging wearily

I fV

THE ROCK-TUIPE. t f

381

along, and making but littlo progress. Marengo
was struggling witli his sledge, feeble as any
of the party. Basil saw that the eyes of his
companions were from time to time bent upon the
dog ; and though none of them said anything,
he understood the thoughts that were passing
within them. He knew that none of them wished
to propose it~-as Basil was the real master of
Marengo — but their glances were sufficiently in-
telligible to him. He looked at the downcast
countenance of the once merry Fran9ois, — at the
serious air of Norman — at the wan cheek and sunken
eye of Lucien, whom Basil dearly loved. He
hesitated no longer. His duty to his companions
at once overcame his affection for his faithful dog.

" We must kill him !" said he, suddenly stopping,
and pointing to Marengo.

The rest halted.

"I fear there's no help for it," said Norman,
turning his face in every direction, and sweeping
the surface of the snow with hopeless glances.

Francois also assented to the proposal.

" Let us make a condition," suggested Lucien ;
" I for one could walk five miles farther." And
as Lucien said this, he made an effort to stand

I >

•I I
; .

1 !

1 ;

382

THE ROCK-TRIPE.

erect, and look strong and brave ; but Ba?il knew
it was an effort of generosity.

" No," said he, — " no, dear Luce. You are done
up. We must kill the dog !"

" Nonsense, Basil, you mistake," replied the other ;
" I assure you I am far from being done up. I
could go much farther yet. Stay ! " continued he,
pointing ahead ; " you see yonder rocks ? They
are about three miles off, I should think. They
lie directly in our course. Well, now, let us agree
to this condition. Let us give poor Marengo a
chance for his life. If we find nothing before
reaching those rocks, why then "

And Lucien, seeing Marengo gazing up in his
"ace, left the sentence unfinished. The poor brute
looked up at all of them as though he understood
every word that they were saying ; and his mute
appeal, had it been necessary, would not have been
thrown away. But it did not require that to get
him the proposed respite. All agreed willingly
with Lucien's proposition ; and, shouldering their
pieces, the party moved on.

Lucien had purposely understated the distance
to the rocks. It was five, instead of three miles ;
and son3e of them made it full ten, as they were

THE ROCK -TRIPE.

383

determined Marengo should have the benefit of
every chance. They deplcy^'i like skirmisLers ; and
not a brake or brush that lay to the right or left
of the path but was visited and beaten by one or
other of them. Their diligence was to no purpose.
After two hours* weary work, they arrived among
the rocks, having seen not a trace of either quad-
ruped or bird.

"Come !" cried Lucien in his now feeble voice,
still trying to lock cheerful, " ^ . e must pass through
them. There is a chance yet. Let him have fair
play. The rocks were to be the limit, but it was
not stated what part of them. Let us pass through
*:o the other side — they do not extend far."

li^ncouraged by the words of Lucien, the party
entered among the rocks, moving on separate paths.
They had gone only a few paces, when a shout
from Norman caused the rest to look to Lim fov an
explanation. No animal was in sisiht. Had he
seen any ? No ; but something that gratified him
certainly, for his voice and manner expressed it.

"What is it ?" inquired the others, all speaking
at the same time.

" Tripe de roche !" answered he.

" Tripe de roche?"

i I

'■'

MPMHMn

^iSSS

mmmm

384

THE ROCK-TRIPE.

I *

'. '

. '

" Yes," replied Norman, "look there!" and he
pointed to one of the rocks directly a-head of them,
at the same time moving forward to it. The others
hastened up after. On reaching the rock, they
saw what Norman had meant by the words tripe
de roche (rock-tripe). It was a black, hard, crumply
substance, that nearly covered the surface of the
rock, and was evidently of a vegetable nature.
Lucien knew what it was as well as Norman, and
joy had expressed itself upon his pale cheeks at
the sight. As for Basil and Fran9ois they only
stood waiting an explanation, and wondering what
value a quantity of "rock moss," as they deemed
it, could be to persons in their condition. Lucien
soon informed them that it was not a " moss," but
a "lichen," and of that celebrated species which
will sustain human life. It was the Gyrophora.
Norman confirmed Lucien's statement, and further-
more affirmed, that not only the Indians and Es-
quimaux, but also parties of voyageurs, had often
subsisted upon it for days, when they would other-
wise have starved. There are many species, — not
less than five or six. All of them possess nutritive
properties, but only one is a palatable food — the
Gyrophora vellea of botanists. Unfortunate] y,

i 4

THE ROCK-TRIPE.

385

this was not the sort which our voyageurs had
happened upon, as it grows only upon rocks shaded
by woods, and is rarely met with in the open
barrens. The one, however, which Norman had
discovered was the " next best," and they ■«'. ere all
glad at finding even that.

The first thing to be thought of was to collect
it, and all four set to peeling and scraping it from
the rocks. The next thought was to make it
ready for eating. Here a new difficulty stared
them in the face. The tripe de roche had to be
boiled, — it could not be eaten else, — and where
was the fire ? where was the wood to make one ?
Not a stick was to be seen. They had not met
w"th a tree during all that day's journey !

Tuey were now as badly off as ever. The
i!-ripe de roche would be of no more use to them
ti m so much dry grass. What could they do
with it ?

In the midst of their suspense, one of them
thought of the sledge — Marengo's sledge. That
would make a fire, but a very small one. It
might do to cook a single meal. Even that was
better than none. Marengo was not going to
object to the arrangement. He looked quite

c c

f^smmnf

386

THE ROCK-TRIPE.

willing to part with the sledge. But a few
hours before, it came near being used to cook
Marengo himself. He was not aware of that,
perhaps, but no matter. All agreed that the
sledge must be broken up, and converted into
firewood.

They wei^ about taking it to pieces, and had
already " unhitched" Marengo from it, when Basil,
who had walked to the otiier side of the rocky
jumble, cried back to them to desist. He had
espied some willows at no great distance. Out of
these a fire could be made. The sledge, therefore,
was let alone for the present. Basil and Francois
immediately started for the willows, while Norman
and Lucien remained upon the spot to prepare
the "tripe" for the pot. *

In a short time the former parties returned with
two large bundles of willows, and the fire was
kindled. The tripe de roche, with some snow —
for there was no water near — ^was put into the
pot, and the latter hung over the blaze.

After boiling for nearly an hour, the lichen
became reduced to a soft gummy pulp, and Norman
thickened the mess to his taste by putting in
more snow, or more of the " tripe," as it seemed

THE ROCK-TRIPE. '

387

few
;ook
:liat,
the
into

had
Basil,
rocky
} had
3utof
refore,
kn(jois
orman
repare

with
e was
now —
to the

lichen
Jorman
ing in
seemed

to require it. The pot was then taken from the
fire, and all four greedily ate of its contents. It
was far from being palatable, and had a clammy
" feel" in the mouth, something like sago ; but
none of the party was in any way either dainty
or fastidious just at that time, and they soon
consumed all that had been cooked. It did not
satisfy the appetite, though it filled the stomach,
and made their situation less painful to bear.

Norman informed them that it was much better
when cooked with a little meat, so as to make
broth. This Norman's companions could easily
credit, but where was the meat to come from ?
The Indians prefer the tripe de roche when pre-
pared along with the roe of fish, or when boiled
in fisii liquor.

Our weary voyageurs resolved to remain among
the rocks for that night at least; and with this
intent they put up their little tent. They did
not kindle any fire, as the willows were scarce,
and there would be barely enough to make one
or two more boilings of the rock-tripe. They
spread their skins within the tent, and creeping
in, kept one another as warm as ihey could until
morning.

K ■

f r

388

THE POLAR HARE AND

'. f

CHAPTER XXXII.

THE POLAR HARE AND GREAT SNOWY OWL.

Op course hunger kept them from sleeping late.
They were up and out of the tent by an early
hour. Their fire was re-kindled, and they were
making pr^^parations for a fresh pot of rock-tripe,
when they were startled by the note of a well-
known bird. On looking up, they beheld seated
upon the point of a rock the creature itself,
which was the " cinereous crow " ( Garrulus
Canadensis), or, as it is better known, the
"whiskey Jack." The latter name it receives
from the voyageurs, on account of the resemblance
of its Indian appellation, " whiskae-shaw-neesh"
to the words " whiskey John." Although some-
times called the " cinereous crow," the bird is a
true jay. It is one of the most inelegant of the
genus, being of a dull grey colour, and not par-

GREAT SNOWY OWL.

389

vx.

ng late.

,n early

By were

;k-tripe,
a well-
seated

te itself,
arrulus
m, the
receives
jmblance
r-neesh"
Ih some-

lird is a
It of the
I not par-

ticularly graceful in its form. Its plumage, more-
over, does not consist of webbed feathers, but
rather more resembles hair ; nor does its voice
make up for the plainness of its appearance, as
is the case with some birds. On the contrary,
the voice of "whiskey Jack" is plaintive and
squeaking, though he is something of a mocker
in his way, and frequently imitates the notes of
other birds. He is one of those creatures that
frequent the habitations of man, and there is not
a fur post, or fort, in all the Hudson's Bay
territory, where "whiskey Jack" is not familiarly
known. He is far from being a favourite, how-
ever, as, like his near relative the magpie, he is
a great thief, and will follow the marten-trapper
all day while baiting his traps, perching upon a
tree until the bait is set, and then pouncing down,
and carrying it off". He frequently pilfers small
articles from the forts and encampments, and is
so bold as to enter the tents, and seize food out
of any vessel that may contain it. Notwith-
standing all this, he is a favourite with the
traveller through these inhospitable regions. No
matter how barren the spot where the voyageur
may make his camp, his tent will hardly be

390

THE POLAR HARE AND

pitched, before he receives a visit from " whiskey
Jack,'* who comes, of course, to pick up any
crumbs that may fall. His company, therefore,
in a region where all other wild creatures shun
the society of man, endears him to the lonely
traveller.

At many of their camps our voyageurs had met
with this singular bird, and were always glad to
receive him as a friend. They were now doubly
delighted to see him, but this delight arose
from no friendly feelings. Their guest was at
once doomed to die. Fran9ois had taken up his
gun, and in the next moment would have brought
him down, had he not been checked by Norman.
Not that Norman intended to plead for his life,
but Norman's eye had caught sight of another
" whiskey Jack," — ^which was hopping among the
rocks at some distance — and fearing that Francois'
shot might frighten it away, had hindered him
from firing. It was Norman's design to get both.

The second " whiskey Jack," or, perhaps, it was
the whiskey " Jill," soon drew near ; and both were
now seen to hop from rock to rock, and then upon the
top of the tent, and one of them actually settled
upon the edge of the pot, as it hung over the fire,

■ a* .*»»irj-x,»«

rmm

GREAT SNOWY OWL.

391

and quietly looking into it, appeared to scrutinize
its contents !

The boys could not think of any way of getting
the birds, except by Francois' gun ; and it was at
length agreed that Fran9ois should do his best.
He was sure of one of them, at least ; so telling the
others to get behind him, he fired at the more
distant one where it sat upon the tent, and took
the other on the wing.

Both shots were successful. The two jays fell,
and were soon divested of their soft, silky, hair-like
plumage, and dropped into the boiling pot. They
did not weigh together more than about six or
seven ounces ; but even that was accounted some-
thing under present circumstances ; and, with the
tripe de roche, a much better breakfast was made
than they had anticipated.

No more of the lichen could be found. The
rocks were all searched, but only a few patches —
not enough for another full meal — could be obtained.
The travellers had no other resource, therefore, but
to continue on, and passing through the rocky
ground, they once more embarked upon the wilder-
ness of snow.

During that whole day not a living creature

mmmm

i«

892

THE POLAR HARE AND

gladdened their eyes. They saw nothing that was
eatable — fish, flesh, fowl, or vegetable. Not even a
bit of rock-tripe — in these parts the last resource
of starving men — could be met with. They en-
camped in a plain, where not a tree stood — not
even a rock to shelter them.

Next morning a consultation was held. Marengo
was again the subject of their thoughts and conver-
sation. Should they kill him on the spot or go a
little farther ? That was the question. Lucien,
as before, interposed in his favour. There was a
high hill many miles ojQT, and in their j^roper course.
" Let us first reach yonder hill," proposed Lucien.
" If nothing is found before that, then we must
part with Marengo."

The proposal was agreed to, and, striking their
tent, they again set out.

It was a toilsome long way to that hill — feeble
and weary as they all were — but they reached it
without having observed the slightest trace of
animal life.

" Up the hill !" cried Lucien, beckoning to the
others, and cheering them with his weak voice,
"Up the hill!"

On they went, up the steep declivity — Marengo

i' J

GREAT SNOWY OWL.

393

toiling on after them. The dog looked downcast
and despairing. He really appeared to know the
conditions that had been made for his life. His
masters, as they crept upward, looked sharply
before them. Every tuft that appeared above the
snow was scrutinized, and every inch of the ground,
as it came into view, was examined.

At length they crossed the escarpment of the hill,
and stood upon the summit. They gazed forward
with disappointed feelings. The hill-top was a
sort of table plain, of about three hundred yards in
diameter. It was covered with snow, nearly a
foot in depth. A few heads of withered grass
were seen above the surface, but not enough to
subdue the uniform white that prevailed all over.
There was no creature upon it ; that was evident.
A bird as big as a sparrow, or a quadruped as
large as a shrew-mouse, could have been seen upon
any part of it. A single glance satisfied all of them
that no living thing was there.

They halted without proceeding farther. Some
of them could not have gone another mile, and all
of them were tottering in their tracks. Marengo
had arrived upon the summit, and stood a little to
one side, with the sledge behind him.

E.r«iiJii i*. *^ *^.' ^. w * ' :''!'..i' 'gaawagSSai

394

THE POLAR HARE AND

" Vou must do it !" said Basil, speaking to
Norman in a hoarse voice, and turning his head
away. Lucicn and Fran9ois stepped aside at the
same time, and stood as if looking down the hill.
The countenances of all three betokened extreme
sorrow. There was a tear in Basil's eye that he
was trying to wipe away with his sleeve.

The sharp click of Norman's gun was heard behind
them, and they were all waiting for the report,
when, at that moment, a dark shadow passing over
the white declivity arrested their attention ! If
was the shadow of a bird upon the wing. The
simultaneous exclamation of all three stayed Nor-
man's finger — already pressing upon the trigger
— and the latter, turning round, saw that they
were regarding some object in the air. It was
a bird of great size — almost as large as an
eagle, but with the plumage of a swan. It was
white all over — botl body and wings — ^white as
the snow over which it was sailing. Norman
knew the bird at a glance. Its thick short neck
and large head — its broad-spreading wings, of
milky whiteness, were not to be mistaken, ii was
the " great snowy owl" of the Arctic regions.

Its appearance suddenly changed the aspect of

GREAT SNOWY OWL.

395

affairs. Norman let the butt of his riflo fall to the
ground, and stood, like the rest, watching the bird
in its flight.

The snowy owl (Strix nycted) is, perhaps, the
most beautiful, as it is one of the most powerful
birds of its genus— of which there are more than a
dozen in North America. It is a bird of the Polar
regions — even the most remote — and in the dead
of winter it is found within the Arctic circle, on
both Continents — although at the same season it
also wanders farther south. It dwells upon the
Barren Grounds as well as in wooded districts. In
the former it squats upon the snow, where its
peculiar colour often prevents it from being noticed
by the passing hunter. Nature has furnished it
with every protection from the cold. Its plumage
is thick, closely matted, and downy, and it is
feathered to the very eyes — so that its legs appear
as large as those of a good-sized dog. The bill, too,
is completely hidden under a mass of feathers that
cover its face, and not even a point of its whole
body is exposed.

The owl is usually looked upon as a night-bird,
and in Southern latitudes it is rarely seen by day ;
but the owls of the Northern regions differ from

'mrnmemmrw^mmwn^

396

THE POLAR HARE AND

their congeners in this respect. Thoy hunt by
day, even during the bright hours of noon. Were
it not so, how could they exist in the midst of an
Arctic summer, when the days are months in dura-
tion ? Here we have another example of the
manner in which Nature trains her wild creatures
to adapt themselves to their situation.

At least a dozen species of owls frequent the
territory c^ tht? Hudson's Bay Company — the
largest of which is the cinereous owl, whose
wings have a spread of nearly five feet. Some
species migrate south on the approach of winter ;
while several, as the snowy owl, remain to prey
upon the ptarmigan, the hares, and other small
quadrupeds, who, like themselves, choose that
dreary region for their winter home.

Our travellers, as I have said, stood watching
the owl as it soared silently through the heavens.
rran9ois had thrown his gun across his left arm, in
hopes he might get a shot at it ; but the bird — a
shy one at all times — kept away out of range ; and,
after circling once or twice ever the hill, uttered a
loud cry and flew off.

Its cry resembled the moan of a human being in
distress j and its effect upon the minds of our travel-

GREAT SNOWY OWL.

397

lers, in the state they then were, was far from being
pleasant. They watched tlie bird with despairing
looks, until it war^ lost against the white background
of a snow-covered hill.

They had noticed that the owl appeared to be
just taking flighw when they first saw it. It must
have risen up from the hill upon which they were ;
and they once more ran their eyes along the level
summit, curious to know where it had been perched
that they had not seen it. No doubt, reflected
they, it had been near enough, but its colour had
rendered it undistinguishable from the snow.

" What a pity ! " exclaimed Fran9ois.

While making these reflections, and sweeping
their glances ar-^und, an object caught their eyes
that caused some of them to ejaculate and suddenly
raise their guns. This object was near the centre
of the summit table, and at first sight appeared
to be only a lump of snow ; but upon closer
inspection, two little round spots of a fl.irk colour,
and above these two elongated black marks, could be
seen. Looking steadily, the eye at length traced
the outlines of an animal, that sat in a crouching
attitude. The round spots were its eyes, and tlte
black marks above them were tips of a pair of very

;,i

J'.

I'!

398

THE POLAB HARE AND

long oars. All the rest of its body was covered
with a soft white fur, hardly to be distinguished
from the snow upon which it rested.

The form and colour of the animal, but more
especially its long erect ears, made it easy for them
to tell what it was. All of them saw it was a
hare.

" Hush ! " continued Norman, as soon as he saw
it, " keep still all of you — leave it to me."

" What shall we do?" demanded Basil. "Can
we not assist you?"

" No," was the reply, uttered in a whisper,
" stay where you are. Keep the dog quiet. I'll
manage puss, if the owl hasn't scared her too
badly. That scream has started her out of her
form. I'm certain she wasn't that way before.
Maybe she'll sit it out. Lucky the sun's high — don't
move a step. Have the dog ready, but hold him
tight, and keep a sharp look out if she bolts."

After giving these instructions, that were all
uttered quickly and in an under tone, Norman
moved off, with his gun carried across his arm. He
did not move in the direction of the hare, but
rather as if he was going from her. His course,
however, bent gradually into a circle of which the

GREAT SNOWY OITL.

399

hare was the centre — the diameter being the full
breadth of the summit level, which was about
three hundred yards. In this circle he walked
round and round, keeping his eye fixed upon
the crouching animal. When he had nearly com-
pleted one circumference, he began to shorten the
diameter — so that the curve which he was now
follow*"g was a spiral one, and gradually drawing
nearer to the hare. The latter kept watching him
as he moved — curiosity evidently mingling with her
fears. Fortunately, as Norman had said, the sun
was nearly in the vertex of the heavens, and his
own body cast very little shadow upon the snow.
Had it been otherwise, the hare ould have
been frightened at the moving shadow, and would
have sprung out of her form, before he could iiav<^
got within range.

When he had made some four or five circuits,
Norman moved slower and slower, and then
stopped nearly opposite to where the others were.
These stood watching him with beating hearts, for
they knew that the life of Marengo, and perhaps
their own as well, depended on the shot. Nor-
man had chosen his place, so that in case the hare
bolted, she might run towards them, and give them

.\J

mm^mmm

"'< ••>!)• •ii4.u|i vwiiiii ■ ij.i '--uiiiyii

400

THE POLAR HARE AND

1 1

' \:

the chance of a flying shot, fiis gun was already
at his shoulder—his finger rested on the trigger,
and the boys were expecting the report, when
again the shadow of a bird flitted over the snow,
a loud human-like scream sounded in their ears, and
the hare was seen to spring up, and stretch her long
legs in flight. At the same instant the great snowy
owl was observed wheeling above, and threatening
to pounce upon the fleeing animal !

The hare ran in a side direction, but it brought
her as she passed within range of the party by
the sledge. The owl kept above her as she ran.
A dozen leaps was all the hare ever made. A
loud crack was heard, and she was seen to spring
up and fall back upon the snow, dead as a door-
nail. Like an echo another crack followed — a
wild scream rang through the air, and the great
white owl fell fluttering to the earth. The reports
were not of a rifle. They were the louder detona-
tions of a shot gun. All eyes were turned
towards Francois, who, like a little god, stood
enveloped in a halo of blue smoke. Fran9ois was
the hero of the hour.

Marengo rushed forward and seized the strug-
gling owl, that snapped its bill at him like a

GREAT SNOWY OWL.

401

3trug-
ike a

-vi'atchman's rattle. But Marengo did not care for
that ; and seizing its head in his teeth, gave it a
crunch that at once put an end to its flapping.

Marengo was reprieved, and he seemed to know
it, as he bounded over the snow, waving his tail,
and barking like a young fool.

They all ran up to the hare, which proved to
be the " Polar hare" {Lepus glacialis\ and one
of the largest of its species — not less than fifteen
pounds in weight. Its fur, soft and white like
swan-down, was stained with red blood. It was
not quite dead. Its little heart yet beat faintly,
and the light of life was still shining from its
beautiful honey-coloured eyes. Both it and the
owl were taken up and carried to the sledge, which
was once more attached to Marengo, as the party
intended to go forward and halt under the shelter
of the hill.

" There must be some wood in this quarter,"
remarked Norman : " I never knew this sort of hare
far from timber."

" True," said Lucien, " the Polar hare feeds
upon willowM, arbutus, and the Labrador tea-plant.
Some of these kinds must be near."

While they were speaking, they had reached the

D D

402

THE POLAR HARE, ETC.

brow of the hill, on the opposite side from wheie they
had ascended. On looking into the vallej'' Ibelow,
to their great joy they beheld some clumps of wil-
lows, and good-sized trees of poplar, birch, and
spruce-pine {Pinus alba), and passing down the
hill, the travellers soon stood in their midst. Pre-
sently was heard the chipping sound of an axe and
crash of falling timber, and in a few moments after
a column of smoke was seen soaring up out of the
valley, and curling cheerfully towards the bright
blue sky.

THE JUMPING MOUSE, ETC.

403

CHAPTER XXXIII.

THE JUMPING MOUSE AND THE ERMINE.

Large as the hare was, she would have made but
a meal for our four hungry voyageurs, had they
eaten at will. By Lucien's advice, however, they
restrained theroielves, and half of her was left iir
supper, when the "cook" promised to make them
hare-soup. The head, feet, and other spare bits,
fell to Marengo's share. The owl, whose flesh was
almost as white as its plumage, and, as Norman
well knew, most delicate eating, was reserved for
to-morrcv's breakfast. *

They had pitched their tent with the intention
of remaining at that place all night, and con-
tinuing their journey next day ; but, as it still
wanted several hours of sunset, and the strength
of all was considerably recruited, they resolved to

404

THE JUMPmO MOUSE AND

hunt about the neighbourhood as long as they had
light. It was of great importance that they should
procure more game. The owl would make but a
spare breakfast, and after that where was the next
meal to come from ? They had had a temporary
relief, and while their strength lasted, they must
use every effort to procure a further supply.
The valley in which their new camp was placed
looked well for game. It was a sort of oasis in
the Barren Grounds. There was a lake and a con-
siderable skirting of timber around it — consisting,
as we have said, of willows, poplars, spruce-pine,
and dwarf birch-trees (Betula nana). The Alpine
arbutus, whose berries are the food of many species
of animals, also grew upon the side of the hills ;
and the Labrador tea-plant {Ledum palustre) was
found upon the low ground around the lake. The
leaves of this last is a favourite food of the Polar
hare, and our voyageurs had no doubt but that there
were many of these animals . in the neighbourhood.
Indeed, they had better evidence than conjecture,
for they saw numerous hare-tracks in the snow.
There were tracks of other animals too, for it
is a well-known fact that where one kind exists, at
Jeast two or three others will be found in the

I I

■-y?"*\i

THE ERMINE. \i^-

405

same habitat — all being connected together by a
" chain of destruction.**

A singular illustration of this was afforded to
Lucien, who remained at the camp while the rest
went out hunting. He had gathered some of the
leaves of the Labrador tea, and was drying them
over the coals, intending to cheer his comrades
with a cup of this beverage after supper. The
hare-soup was boiling, and the " cook** sat listening
to the cheerful sounds that issued from the pot —
now and then taking off the lid to examine its
savoury contents, and give them a stir. He would
then direct his attention to the tea-leaves that
were parching in the frying-pan ; and, having
shifted them a little, felt himself at liberty to look
about for a minute or two.

On one of these occasions, while glancing up, his
attexition was attracted to an object which appeared
upon the snow at a short distance from where he sat.
A wreath of snow, that had formed under the shelter
of the hill, extended all around its base, presenting a
steep front in every direction. This front was only
two or three feet in height ; but the top surface of the
wreath was many yards wide — in fact, it extended
back until it became blended with the slope of the

406

THE JUMPING MOUSE AND

'■

hill. It was smooth and nearly level, but the hill
above was steep, and somewhat rough and rocky.
The steep front of the wreath came down within
half-a-dozen paces of the fire where Lucien was
seated ; and it was upon the top or scarpment of
it that the object appeared that had drawn his
attention. It was a small creature, but it was in
motion, and thus had caught his eye.

A single glance showed him that the little animal
was a mouse, but of a somewhat singular species. It
was about the size of the common mouse, but quite
different in colour. The upper half of its body was
of a light mahogany tint, while the lower half,
including the legs and feet, were of a milky white-
ness. It was, in fact, the "white-footed mouse"
{Mus leucopus\ one of the most beautiful of its
kind.

Here and there above the surface of the snow
protruded the tops of arbutus-trees ; and the little
creature was passing from one of these to the other,
in search, no doubt, of the berries that remain upon
these trees all the winter. Sometimes it ran from
point to point like any other mouse, but now and
then it would rear itself on its hind-legs, and leap
several feet at a single bound I In this it evidently

THE ERMINE.

407

,»»

assisted itself by pressing its tail — in which it
possesses muscular power — against the snow. This
peculiar mode of progression has obtained for it the
name of the "jumping mouse," and among the
Indians " deer "-mouse, because its leap reminds
them of the bounding spring of the deer. But
there are still other species of "jumping mice" in
America that possess this power to a greater
degree even than the Mus leucopus.

Lucien watched its motions without attempting
to interfere with it, until it had got nearly out of
sight. He did not desire to do injury to the little
creature, nor was he curious to obtain it, as he had
already met with many specimens, and examined
them to his satisfaction. He had ceased to think
of it, and would, perhaps, never have thought of it
again, but, upon turning his eyes in the opposite
direction, he observed another animal upon the snow.
This creature had a far different aspect from the
mouse. Its body was nearly a foot in length,
although not much thicker than that of the other !
Its legs were short, but strong, and its forehead
broad and arched convexly. It had a tail more
than half the length of the body, hairy, and tapering
like that of a cat. Its form was the well-known

■■PWR^

mmmmmmm

•■■^1^

408

THE JUMPINa MOUSE AND

form of the weasel, and it was, in fact, a species
of weasel. It was the celebrated ermine {Mustela
erminea), celebrated for its soft and beautiful fur, so
long prized as an ornament for the robes of the rich.
It was white all over, with the exception of its
tail; and that, for about an inch or so at the tip, was
covered with black silky hair. On some parts of
the body, too, the white was tinged with a primrose
yellow ; but this tinge is not found in all animals
of this species, as some individuals are pure white.
Of course it was now in its winter " robes ;" but in
the summer it changes to a colour that does not
differ much from that of the common weasel.

When Lucien first saw it, it was running along
the top of the wreath, and comiing from the same
direction from which the mouse had come. Now
and then it paused awhile, and then ran on again.
Lucien observed that it kept its nose to the ground,
and as it drew nearer he saw that it was following on
the same path which the other had taken. To his
astonishment he perceived that it was trailing the
mouse ! Wherever the latter had doubled or made
a detour, the ermine followed the track j and where
the mouse had given one of its long leaps, there the
ermine would stop, and, after beating about until

THE ERMINE. )},^.

409

it struck the trail again, would resume its onward
course at a gallop. Its manobuvres were exactly
like those of a hound upon the fresh trail of a
foxl

Lucien now looked abroad to discover the mouse.
It was still in sight far off upon the snow, and, as
Lucien could see, busily gnawing at the arbutus,
quite unconscious that its greatest enemy was so
near. I say greatest enemy, for the Mus leucopus
is the natural prey of the Mustela erminea.

The mouse was soon made aware of the dangerous
proximity, but not until the ermine had got within
a few feet of it. When it perceived the latter it
shrunk, at first, among the leaves of the arbutus ;
but seeing there would be no protection there — as
the other was still springing forwai^d to seize it —
it leaped up, and endeavoured to escape by flight.
Its flight appeared to be in alternate jumps and
runs, but the chase was not a long one. The ermine
was as active as a cat, and, after a few skips, its
claws were struck into the mouse. There was a
short, slender squeak, and then a " crunch," like the
cracking of a hazel-nut. This last sound was pro-
duced by the teeth of the ermine breaking through
the skull of its victim.

mmmmm'mmmmmmm

410

THE ARCTIC FOX AND

CHAPTER XXXIV.

THE ARCTIC FOX AND WHITE WOLF.

LuciEN turned round to get hold of his rifle, in-
tending to punish the ermine, altliough the little
creature, in doing what it did, had only obeyed a
law of nature. But the boj had also another design
in killing it : he wished to compare it with some
ermines he had seen while travelling upon Lake
Winnipeg, which, as he thought, were much larger
— one that he had caught having measured more
than a foot in length, without including the tail.
He wished, also, to make some comparison between
it and the common veasel ; for in its winter dress,
in the snowy regions, the latter very much resem-
bles the ermine ; and, indeed, the trappers make no
distinction between them.

With these ideas Lueien had grasped li^o gun,
and was raising himself to creep a little nearer,

"WBITE WOLF.

f.V

411

gun,
arer,

when his eye was arrested by the motions of an-
other creature coming along the top of the wreath.
This lasf. was a snow-white animal, with long,
shaggy fur, sharp-pointed snout, erect ears, and
bushy tail. Its aspect was fox-like, and its move-
ments and attitudes had all that semblance of
cunning and caution so characteristic of these
animals. Well might it, for it was a fox — the
beautiful white fox of the Arctic regions.

It is commonly supposed that there are but two
or three kinds of foxes in America ; and that these
are only varietie'i of the European species.

This is an erroneous idea, as there are nearly a
dozen varieties existing in North America, although
they may be referred to a less number of species.
There is the Arctic fox, which is confined to the
cold Northern regions, and which in winter is
white.

The sooty fox" is a variety of the "Arctic,"
distinguished from it only by its colour, which
is of a uniform blackish brown.

The " American fox " ( Vulpes fulvus\ or, as it
is commonly called, the " red fox," has been long
supposed to be the same as the European red fox.
This is erroneous. They differ in many points; and,

412

THE ABCTIC FOX AND

what is somewhat curious, these points of difference
are similar to those that exist between the European
and American wolves, as already given.

The " cross fox" is supposed by the Indians and
some naturalists to be only a variety of the last. It
derives its name from its having two dark stripes
crossing each other upon the shoulders. Its fur
from this circumstance, and perhaps because the
animal is scarce, is more prized than that of the red
variety. When a single skin of the latter is worth
only fifteen shillings, one of the cross fox will bring
as much as five guineas.

Another variety of the red fox, and a much more
rare one, is the "black," or "silver" fox. The
skins of these command six times the price of any
other furs found in America, with the exception of
the sea-otter. The animal itself is so rare that
only a few fall into the hands of the Hudson's
Bay Company in a season ; and Mr. Nicholay, the
celebrated London furrier, asserts that a single skin
will fetch from ten to foi ty guineas, according to
cuality. A remarkable cloak, or pelisse, belonging
to the Emperor of Russia, and made out of the
skins of silver-foxes, was exhibited in the Great
London Exposition of 1851. It was made entirely

WHITE WOLF.

■■<^^ r->

413

\, the
skin

fg to

iging
the

rreat

lirely

from the neck-part of the skins— the only part of
the silver "fox whicli is pure black. This cloak
was valued at 3400Z. ; though Mr. Nicholay con-
siders this an exaggerated estimate, and states its
true value to be not over lOOOl. George the
Fourth had a lining of black fox-skins worth
1000/.

The "grey fox" is a more southern species than
any already described. Its proper home is the
temperate zone covered by the United States;
although i\. extends its range into the southern
parts of Canada. In the United States it is the
most conunon kind, although in that district there is
also a " red fox," different from the Vulpes fulvus
already noticed ; and which, no doubt, is the red
fox of Europe, introduced by the early colonists of
America.

Still another species, the smallest and perhaps the
most interesting of any, is the " kit fox." This little
creature is an inhabitant of the prairies, where it
makes its burrows far from any wood. It is ex-
tremely shy, and the swiftest animal in the prairie
country— outrunning even tlie antelope !

When Lucien saw the fox he thought no more
of the ermine, but drew back and crouched down,

414

THE ARCTIC FOX AND

in hopes he might get a shot at the larger animal.
He knew well that the flesh of the Arctic fox
is highly esteemed as food, particularly by persons
situated as he and his companions were, and he
hoped to be able to add it to their larder.

When first seen it was coming towards him,
though not In a direct line. It was engaged in
hunting, and, with its nose to the snow, was
running in zig-zag lincsj "quartering" the ground
like a pointer dog. Presently it struck the trail
of the erimne, and with a yelp of satisfaction
followed it. This of course brought it close past
where Lucien was ; but, notwithstanding his eager-
ness to fire, it moved so rapidly along the trail
that he was unable to take sight upon it. It did
not halt for a moment ; and, as Lucien's gun
was a rifle, he knew that a flying shot would be
an uncertain one. In the beliefj therefore, that the
fox would stop soon — at all events when it came
up with the ermine — he restrained himself from
firing, and waited.

It ran on, still keeping the track of the ermine.
The latter, hitherto busy with his own prey, did
not see the fox until it was itself seen, when,
dropping the half-eaten mouse, it reared up on

WHITE WOLF.

I r-

415

ine.

ly, did

Iwhen,
ip on

its hind-quarters like a squirrel or a monkey, at
the same time spitting as spitefully as any other
weasel could have done. In a moment, however,
it changed its tactics — for the open jaws of the
fox were within a few paces of it — and after
making a short quick run along the surface, it
threw up its hind-quarters, and plunged head-
foremost into the snow ! The fox sprang forward,
and flinging his brush high in air, shot after like
an arrow !

Both had now disappeared from Lucien's sight.
For a moment the surface of the snow was dis-
turbed above the spot where they had gone down,
but the next moment all was still, and no evidence
existed that a living creature had been there, ex-
cept the tracks, and the break the two creatures
had made in going down. Lucien ran forward until
he was within a few yards of the place, and stood
watching the hole, with his rifle ready — thinking
that the fox, at least, would soon come up again.

He had waited for nearly five minutes, looking
steadily at this point, when his eye was attracted
by a movement under the snow, at a conside-
rable distance, quite fifty paces, from where he
stood. The frozen crust was seen to upheave : and.

I ,ufj«uifuiiw»!!)|p|p,w.jw unwinii,^ji,jBiii4 nfi^^wfrnrnwi^^i. tvm.w' n'lrwvmiii im, •■im».««?«»i«^i*»».^"'9'''!fP!l^

416

THE ABOTIO FOX AKD

the next moment, the head of the fox, and after-
wards his whole body, appeared above the surface.
Lucien saw that the ermine lay transversely be-
tween his jaws, and was quite dead I He was about
to fire, but the fox, suddenly perceiving him, shot
off like an arrow, carrying his prey along with him.
He was soon out of reach, and Lucien, seeing that
he had lost his chance, was about to return to
the fire, when, all at once, the fox was observed
to stop, turn suddenly in his tracks, and run off
in a new direction ! Lucien looked beyond to ascer-
tain the cause of this strange manoeuvre. That
was soon ascertained. Coming down from among
the rocks was a large animal — five times the fox's
size — but in other respects not unlike him. It
was also of a snow-white colour, with long hair,
bushy tail, and short erect ears, but its aspect
was not to be mistaken. It was the great white
wolf.

When Lucien first saw this new-comer, the
latter had just espied the fox, and was about
stretching out into a gallop towards him. The fox,
watching backwards as he ran, had not seen the
wolf, until the latter was within a few springs of
him J and now when he had turned, and both were in

WHITE WOLF, li;

417

after-
irface.
y be-
about
I, shot
\i him.
g that
iirn to
served
run off
ascer-
That
among
le fox's
m. It
hair,
aspect
; white

full chase, there was not over twenty yards between
them. The direction in which they ran would
bring them near to Lucien ; and so they came,
and passed him — neither of them seeming to heed
his presence. They had not got many yards far-
ther, before Lucien perceived that the wolf was
fast closing on the fox, and would soon capture
him. Believing he would then stop, so as to offer
him a fairer chance for a shot, Lucien followed.
The wolf, however, had noticed him coming after,
and although the next moment he closed his great
jaws upon the fox, he did not pause for a single
instant, but, lifting the latter clear up from the
ground, ran on without the slightest apparent
diminution of speed !

Reynard was seen to struggle and tick, while
he squeaked like a ehot puppy ; but his cries each
moment grew feebler, and his struggles soon came
to an end. The wolf held him transversely in his
jaws — just as he himself but the moment before had
carried the ermine.

Lucien saw there was no use in following them,
as the wolf ran on with his prey. With some dis-
appointment, therefore, he was about to return to
the fire, where, to add to his mortification, he knew

E E

■""•I"- !"■ '*PTWWWl»r!(m

418

THE ARCTIC FOX AND

he would find hia tea-leaves parched to a cinder.
He lingered a moment, however, with his eyes
still fixed upon the departing wolf that was just
about to disappear over the crest of a ridge. The
fox was still in his jaws, but no longer struggling.
Reynard looked limber and dead, as his legs swung
loosely on both sides of the wolf's head. Lucien at
that moment saw the latter suddenly stop in his
career, and then drop down upon the surface of
the snow as if dead ! He fell with his victim in
his jaws, and lay half doubled up, and quite
stiU.

This strange action would have been a difficult
thing for Lucien to explain, but, almost at the
same instant in which he observed it, a puff of blue
smoke shot up over the ridge, and quickly fol-
lowing was heard the sharp crack of a rifle. Then
a head with its cap of raccoon skin appeared above
the snow, and Lucien, recognising the face of Basil,
ran forward to meet him.

Both soon stood over the body of the dead wolf,
wondering at what they saw ; but Basil, far more
than Lucien — for the latter already knew the cir-
cumstances of that strange scene of death. First
there was the great gaunt body of the wolf

WHITE WOLF.

'wj..-

419

nder.

eyes
} just

The

iwung
ien at
in his
ace of
dm in
quite

ifficult

at the

f blue

|ly fol-

Theii

above

Basil,

wolf,

le cir-

First

wolf

stretched along the snow, and quite dead. Cross-
wajs in his mouth was the fox, just as he had
been carried off ; and across the jaws of the
latter, lay the long worm-like body of the ermine,
still retaining between its teeth the half-devoured
remains of the white -footed mouse ! A very
chain of destroyers ! These creatures died as
they had lived, preying one upon the other I Of
all four the little mouse alone was an innocent
victim. The other three, though morally guilty
by the laws of man, yet were only acting in obe-
dience to the laws of Nature and necessity. Man
himself obeys a similar law, as Basil had just
shown. Philosophize as we will, we cannot com-
prehend why it is so — ^why Nature requires the
sacrifice of one of her creatures for the sustenance
of another. But although we cannot understand
the cause, we must not condemn the fact as it
exists ; nor must we suppose, as some do, that the
destruction of God's creatures for our necessities
constitutes a crime. They who think so, and who,
in consistency with their doctrines, confine them-
selves to whalfc they term " vegetable" food, are
at best but shallow reasoners. They have not
studied Nature very closely, else would they know

420

THE ABCTIC FOX AND

that every time they pluck up a parsnip, or draw
their blade across the leaf of a lettuce, they cause
pain and death I How much pain we cannot tell ;
but that the plant feels, as well as the animal,
we can clearly prove. Probably it feels less, and
it may be each kind of plant differs from others
in the amount, according to its higher or lower
organism. Probably its amount of pleasure —
its capability of enjoyment — is in a direct pro-
portion to the pain which it endures ; and it is
highly probable that this double line of ratios
runs in an ascending scale throughout the vege-
table kingdom, gradually joining on to what is
more strictly termed the " animal." But these
mysteries of life, my young friend, will be in-
teresting studies for you when your mind becomes
iQatured. Perhaps it may be your fortune to
unravel some of them, for the benefit of your
fellow-men. I feel satisfied that you will not only
be a student of Nature, but one of her great
teachers ; you will far surpass the author of this
little book in your knowledge of Nature's laws ;
but it will always be a happiness to him to reflect,
that, when far advanced upon the highway of
science, you will look back to him as one you

WHITE WOLF. '

421

had pass* 1 upon the road, and who pointed you to
the path.

Though Basil had shot the wolf, it was plain
that it was not the first nor yet the second time he
had discharged his rifle since leaving the camp.
From his game-bag protruded the curving claws
and wing-tips of a great bird. In one hand he
carried a white hare — not the Polar hare — but a
much smaller kind, al^o an inhabitant of these
snowy regions ; and over his shoulders was slung
a fierce-looking creature, the great wild-c t or
lynx of America {Lynx Canadensis), The bird in
his bag was the golden eagle [Aquila chrysaetos\
one of the few feathered creatures that brave
the fierce winter of a northern climate, and docs
not migrate, like its congeners tlie "white-head"
and the osprey, to more southern regions.

Basil had returned alone — for the three, Basil,
Norman, and Francois, had taken different directions
at setting out. This they had done, in order to
have as great a number of chances as possible of
finding the game. Norman came in a few minutes
after, bearing a whole deer upon his shoulders —
a glad sight that was — and, a short interval having
passed, Fran9ois's "hurrah" sounded upon their

422

THE ARCTIC FOX, ETC.

ears, and Francois himself was seen coming up
the valley loaded like a little donkey with two
bunches of large snow-white birds.

The camp now exhibited a cheering sight.
Such a variety was never seen even in the larder
of a palace kitchen. The ground was strewed
with animals like a dead menagerie. There were
no less than a dozen kinds upon it I

The hare-soup was now quite ready, and was
accordingly served up by Lucien in the best style.
Lucien had dried a fresh "grist" of the tea leaves,
and a cheering cup followed j and then the party
all sat around their log-fire, while each of them
detailed the history of his experience since parting
with the others.

Fran9ois was the first to relate what had be-
fallen him.

mmmm

THE JERFALCON, ETC.

423

CHAPTER XXXV.

THE JERFALCON AND THE WHITE GROUSE.

" Mine," began Francois, " was a bird adventure,
as you all see — though what kind of birds IVo shot
/ can't tell. One of them's a hawk, I'm sure ; but
it's a white hawk, and that I Ljver saw before.
The rest, I suppose, are white partridges. Every-
thing appears to be white here. What are they,
Luce?"

" You are right about this first," answered
Lucien, taking up one of the birds which Fran-
cois had brought back with him, and which was
white all but a few spots of clove-brown upon its
back. " This is a hawk, as you may tell, by its
appearance, or rather I should say a * falcon,' for
you must know there is a difference."

424

THE JEEFALCON mJST)

"What difference?" demanded Francois, with
some eagerness of manner.

" Why the principal difference is tlie formation
of their beaks or bills. The bills of the true falcons
are stronger, and have a notfh in the lower man-
dible answering to a tooth in the upper one. Their
nostrils, too, are differently formed. But another
point of distinction is found in their habits. Both
feed on warm-blooded animals, and neither will
eirt carrion. In this respect the hawks and falcons
WKe alike. Both take tlieir prey upon the wing ;
hfst herein lies the difference. The hawks capture
it m- skimming along horizontally or obliquely,
tad. picking it up as they pass ; whereas the true
f^eniifi * pounce' dovm upon it from above, and
in a line nearly verticaL"

^ riien This must be a true faleoii," interrupted
IFraBD^is, ■" for I saw the gentleman do that very
thimg ; anid beautifully he did it, too."

" It is a falcon," continued Lucien ; " and of the
many spe*::Liis of hawks which inhabit North Ame-
rica — over rvventy in all — it is one of the boldest
and handsomest. I don't wonder you never saw
it before ; for it is truly a bird of the Northern
regions, and does not come so far south as the

THE WHITE GROUSE.

425

territory of the United States, much less into Loui-
siana. It is found in North Europe, Greenland,
and Iceland, and has been seen as far north on
both continents as human beings have travelled.
It is known by the name of *jrTfalcon,' or *gyr-
falcon,' but its zoological name is Falco Islandicus."

" The Indians here," interposed Norman, " call
it by a name that means * winter bird,' or * win-
terer ' — I suppose, because it is one of the few
that stay in these parts all the year round, and is
therefore often noticed by them in winter time.
The traders sometimes call it the * speckled par-
tridge-hawk,' for there are some of them more
spotted than this one is."

" True," said Lucien ; " the young ones are
nearly of a brown colour, and they first bf^come
spotted or mottled after a year or two. They are
several years old before they get the white plu-
mage, and very few individuals are seen of a pure
white all over, though there are some without a
spot.

" Yes," continued the naturalist, "it is the jer-
falcon ; and those other birds which you call * white
partridges,' are the very creatures upon which it
preys. So you have killed both the tyrant and his

■m

426

THE JERFALCON AND

ill

r n

victims. They are not partridges though, but
grouse — that species known as ' willow grouse '
{Tetrao saliceti)"

And as Lucien said this, he began to handle the
birds, which were of a beautiful white all over,
with the exception of the tail feathers. These last
were pitch-black.

" IIo ! " exclaimed Lucien, in some surprise,
•' you have two kinds here ! AVerc they all toge-
ther when you shot them ? "

" No," answered Francois ; " one I shot along
with the hawk out in the open ground. All the
others I killed upon a tree in a piece of woods that
I fell in with. There's no diflference between them
that I can see."

" But I can," said Lucien, " although I acknow-
ledge they all look very much alike. Both are
feathered to the toes — both have the black feathers
in the tail — and the bills of both are black; but
if you observe closely, this kind — the willow-grouse
— has the bill much stronger and less flattened.
Besides, it is a larger bird than the other, which is
* the rock-grouse ' ( Tetrao rupestris). Both are
sometimes, though erroneously, called * ptarmigan j '
but they are not the true ptarmigan {^Tetrao

THE WHITE GROUSE.

427

mutus) — such as exist in North Europe — though
these last are also to be met with in the Northern
parts of America. The ptarmigan are somewhat
larger than either of these kinds, but in other
respects differ but little from them.

" The habits of the * rock ' and * irilloiv ' ^voii^c
are very similar. They are both birds of the
snowy regions, and are found as far north as has
been explored. The willow-grouse in winter
keep more among the trees, and are oftener met
with in T/ooded countries ; whereas the others like
best to live in the open ground, and, from
your statement, it appears you found each kind
in its favourite haunt."

" Just so," said Fran9ois. " After leaving
here, I kept down the valley, and was just crossing
an open piece of high ground, when I espied the
white hawk, or Mcon as you call it, hovering in
the air as I'd often seen ha^-^ks do. Well, I
stopped and hid behind a rock, thinking I might
have a chance to put a few drops into him. All
at once he appeared to stand still in the air, and,
then closing his wings, shot down like an arrow.
Just then I heard a loud * whur-r-r,* and up
started a whole covey of white partridges — grouse,

428

THE JERFALCON AND

I should say — the same as this you call the * rock-
grouse.* I saw that the hawk had missed the whole
of them, and I marked them as they flew off.
They pitched about a hundred yards or so, and
then went plunge under the snow — every one
of them making a hole for itself just like where
one had poked their foot in ! I guess, boys, this
looked funny enough. I thought I would be sure
to get a shot at some of these grouse as they came
out again ; so I walked straight up to the holes
they had made, and stood waiting. I still saw the
hawk hovering in the air, about an hundred yards
ahead of me.

" I was considering whether I ought to go farther
on, and tramp the birds out of the snow ; for I
believed, of course, they were still under the place
where the holes were. All at once I noticed a
movement on the crust of the snow right under
where the hawk was flying, and then that indi-
vidual shot down to the spot, and disappeared
under the snow ! At the same instant, the crust
broke in several places, and up came the grouse
one after another, and whirred off out of sight,
without giving me any sort of a chance. The hawk,
however, had not come up yet ; and I ran forward,

■P

THE WHITE GROUSE.

429

determined to take him as soon as he should
make his appearance. When I had got within
shooting distance, up ho fluttered to the surface,
and — ^what do you think ? — ^hc had one of the grouse
struggling in his claws ! I let him have the right
barrel, and both he and grousy were knocked dead
as a couple of door-nails !

" I thought I might fall in with the others again ;
and kept on in the direction they had taken, which
brought me at last to a piece of woodland consisting
of birches and willow-trees. As I was walking along
the edge of this, I noticed one of the willows, at
some distance off, covered with great white 'hings,
that at first I took for flakes of snoAv ; but then I
thought it curious that none of the other trees had
the same upon them. As I came a little nearer,
I noticed one of the things moving, and then I saw
they were birds, and very like the same I had just
seen, and was then in search of. So I crept in
among the trees ; and, after some dodging, got
within beautiful shooting distance, and gave them
both barrels. There, you s^' the result!"

Ifere Francois triumphantlj pointed to the pile
of tmds, which in ail, with the jerlalcon, counted
fc»ur brace and a half.

;

430

THE JERFALCON, ETC.

One was the rock-grouse, which the falcon had
itself killed, and the others were willow -grouse, as
Lucien had stated. Francois now remained silent,
while Basil related his day's adventure.

THE HARE, THE LYNX, ETC.

431

CHAPTER XXXVI.

THE HARE, THE LYNX, AND THE GOLDEN EAGLE.

" Frank," began he, " has called his a ' bird
adventure.' I might give mine somewhat of the
same title, for there was a bird mixed up with
it — the noblest of all birds — the eagle. But you
shall hear it.

" On leaving the camp, I went, as you all know,
up the valley. After travelling for a quarter of
a mile or so, I came upon a wide open bottom,
where there were some scattered willows and
clumps of dwarf birch-trees. As Luce had told
me that such are the favourite food of the Ameri-
can hare, or, as we call it in Louisiana, * rabbit,*
I looked out for the sign of one, and, sure enough,
I soon came upon a track, which I knew to be
that of *puss.' It was fresh enough, and I fol-
lowed it. It kept me meandering about for a long

! •

•

432

'.^

THE HARE, THE LYKX, AND

while, till at last I saw that it took a straight
course for some thick brushwood, with two or
three low birches growing out of it. As I made
sure of finding the game there, I crept forward
very quietly, holding Marengo in the leash. But
the hare was not in the brush ; and, after tramping
all through it, I again noticed the track where she
had gone out on the opposite side. I was about
starting forth to follow it, when all at once an
odd-looking creature niade its appearance right
before me. It was that fellow there !" And Basil
pointed to the lynx. " I thought at first sight,"
continued he, " it was our Louisiana wild cat or
bay lynx, as Luce calls it, for it is very like our
cat ; but 1 saw it was nearly twice as big, and
more greyish in the fur. Well, when I first sighted
the creature, it was about an hundred yards off. It
hadn't seen me, though, for it was not running
away, but skulking along slowly — nearly crosswise
to the course of the hare's track — and looking in
a different direction to that in which I was. I
was well screened behind the bushes, and that, no
doubt, prevented it from noticing me. At first I
thought of running forward, and setting Marengo
after it. Then I determined on staying where I

THE GOLDEN EAGLE. ^~i

■1

433

^rengo
lere I

was, and watching it a while. Perhaps it may
come to a stop, reflected I, and let me creep within
shot. I remained, therefore, crouching among the
bushes, and kept the dog at my feet.

" As I continued to watch the cat, I saw that,
instead of following a straight line, it was moving
in a circle I

" The diameter of this circle was not over an
hundred yards ; and in a very short while the
animal had got once round the circumference, and
came back to where I had first seen it. It did not
stop there, but continued on, though not in its old
tracks. It still walked in a circle, but a much
smaller one than before. Both, however, had a
common centre ; and, as I noticed that the animal
kept its eyes constantly turned towards the centre,
I felt satisfied that in that place would be found
the cause of its strange manoeuvring. I looked to
the centre. At first I could see nothing — at least
nothing that might be supposed to attract the cat.
There was a very small bush of willows, but they
were thin. I could see distinctly through them,
and there was no creature there, either in the bush
or around it. The snow lay white up to the roots
of the willows, and I thought that a mouse could

F p

434

THE HABE, THE LT17Z, AND

hardly have found shelter among them, without
my seeing it from where I stood. Still I could
not explain the odd actions of the lynx, upon any
other principle than that it was in the pursuit of
game ; and I looked again, and carefully examined
every inch of the ground as my eyes passed over
it. This time I discovered what the animal was
after. Close in to the willows appeared two little
parallel streaks of a dark colour, just rising above
the surface of the snow. I should not have noticed
them had there not been two of them, and these
slanting in the same direction. They had caught
my eyes before, but I had taken them for the
points of broken willows. I now saw that they
were the ears of some animal, and I thought that
once or twice they moved slightly while I was
regarding them. After looking at them steadily
for a time, I made out the shape of a little
head underneath. It was white, but there was a
round dark spot in the middle, which I knew to
be an eye. There was no body to be seen. That
was under the snow, but it was plain enough that
what I saw was the head of a hare. At first
I supposed it to be a Polar hare — such as we had
just killed — ^but the tracks I had followed were

THE GOLDEN EAGLE.

43^

not those of the Polar hare. Then I remembered
that the * rabbit* of the United States also turns
white in the winter of the Northern regions. This,
then, must be the American rabbit, thought I.

" Of course my reflections did not occupy all the
time I have taken in describing them. Only a
moment or so. All the while the lynx was moving
round and round the circle, but still getting nearer
to the hare that appeared eagerly to watch it. I
remembered how Norman had manoeuvred to get
within shot of the Polar hare ; and I now saw
the very same ruse being practised by a dumb
creature, that is supposed to have no other guide'
than instinct. But I had seen the * bay lynx *
of Louisiana do some * dodges * as cunning a»
that, — «uch as claying his feet to make the
hounds lose the scent, and, after running back-
wards and forwards upon a fallen log, leap into
the tops of trees, and get off in that way. Be-
lieving that hia Northern cousin was just as
artful as himself" (here Basil looked significantly
at the " Captain,") " I did not so much wonder at
the performance I now witnessed. Nevertheless, I
felt a great curiosity to see it out. But for this
curiosity I could have shot the lynx every time

IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-S)

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23 WIST MAIN STMiT

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^;V-''u^i''.

■•■ ■'^-■\

436

THE HARE, THE LYNX, AND

he passed me on the nearer edge of the circle.
Kound and round h? went, then, until he was not
twenty feet from the hare, that, strange to say,
seemed to regard this the worst of her enemies
more with wonder than fear. The lynx at length
stopped suddenly, brought his four feet close to-
gether, arched his back like an angry cat, and then
with one immense bound, sprang forward upon his
victim. The hare had only time to leap out of
her form, and the second spring of the lynx brought
him right upon the top of her. I could hear the
child-like scream which the American rabbit always
utters when thus seized ; but the cloud of snow-
spray raised above the spot prevented me for a
while from seeing either lynx or hare. The scream
was stifled in a moment, and when the snow-spray
cleared off, I saw that the lynx held the hare
under his paws, and that "puss" was quite dead.

" I was considering how I might best steal up
within shooting distance, when, all at once, I heard
another scream of a very different sort. At the same
time a dark shadow passed over the snow. I looked
up, and there, within fifty yards of the ground, a great
big bird was wheeling about. I knew it to be an
eagle from its shape ; and at first I fancied it was a

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}ngth
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THE GOLDEN EAGLE.

437

-----4

if*'^

young one of the white-headed kind — for, as you
are aware, these do not have either the white head
or tail until they are several years old. Its im-
mense size, however, showed that it could^ not bo
one of these. It must be the great '■golden' eagle
of the Rocky Mountains, thought I.

" When I first noticed it, I fancied that it had
been after the rabbit ; and, seeing the latter pounced
upon by another preying creature, had uttered its
scream at being thus disappointed of its prey. I
expected, therefore, to see it fly off. To my asto-
nishment it broke suddenly out of the circles in
which it had been so gracefully wheeling, snd,
with another scream wilder than before, darted
down towards the lynx !

" The latter, on hearing the first cry of the eagle,
had started, dropped his prey, and looked up. In
the eagle he evidently recognised an antagonist, for
his back suddenly became arched, his fur bristled
up, his short tail moved quickly from side to side,
and he stood with glaring eyes, and claws ready to
receive the attack.

" As the eagle came down, its legs and claws were
thrown forward, and I could then tell it was not
a bald eagle, nor the great * Washington eagle,*

npipmM

438

THE HAKE, THE LYNX, AND

nor yet a fishing eagle of any Bort, which both
of these are. The fishing eagles, as Lucien had told
me, have always naked legs, while those of the
true eagles are more feathered. So were his, but
beyond the feathers I could see his great curved
talons, as he struck forward at the lynx. He evi-
dently touched and wounded the animal, but the
wound only served to make it more angry ; and I
could hear it purring and spitting like a tom-cat,
only far louder. The eagle again mounted back
into the air, but soon wheeled round and shot
down a second time. This time the lynx sprang
forward to meet it, and I could hear the concussion
of their bodies as they came together. I think the
eagle must have been crippled, so that it could not
fiy up again, for the fight from that time was
carried on upon the ground. The lynx seemed
anxious to grasp some part of his antagonist's
body — and at times I thought he had Succeeded —
but then he was beaten off again by the bird, that
fought furiously with wings, beak, and talons. The
lynx now appeared to be the attacking party, as I
saw him repeatedly spring forward at the eagle,
while the latter always received him upon its
claws, lying with its back upon the snow. Both

THE GOLDEN EAOLE.

439

fur and feathers flew in every direction, and some-
times the combatants were so covered with the
snow-spray that I could see neither of them.

" I watched the conflict for several minutes, until
it occurred to me, that my best time to get near
enough for a shot was just while they were in the
thick of it, and not likely to heed me. I there-
fore moved silently out of the bushes ; and, keeping
Marengo in the string, crept forward. I had but
the one bullet to give them, and with that I could
not shoot both; but I knew that the quadruped
was eatable, and, as I was not sure about the
bird, I very easily made choice, and shot the lynx.
To my surprise the eagle did not fly off*, and I
now saw that one of its wings was disabled I
He was still strong enough, however, to scratch
Marengo seveie.y before the latter could master
him. As to the lynx, he had been roughly handled.
His skin was torn in several places, and one of
his eyes, as you see, regularly * gouged out.*'*

Here Basil ended his narration; and after an
interval, during which some fresh wood was chopped
and thrown upon the fire, Norman, in turn, com-
menoed relating what had befallen him.

440

THE ** ALABM BIRD ** AND

CHAPTER XXXVII.

THE " ALARM BIRD" AND THE CARIBOU.

" There wasn't much * adventure* in my day's
sport," said he, " though I might call it a * bird-
adventure' too, for if it hadn't been for a bird I
shouldn't have had it. I shot a deer — that's all.
But maybe it would be curious for you to know
how I came to find the animal, so I'll tell you.

" The first thing I did after leaving here was to
climb the hill yonder" — here Norman pointed to a
long hill that sloped up from the opposite shore of
the lake, and which was the direction he had
taken, as Basil and Fran9ois had gone right and
left.

" I saw neither bird, beast, nor track, until
I had reached the top of the hill. There I got
a good view of the country ahead. I saw it
was very rocky, without a stick of timber, and

THE CARIBOU.

(-"<-

441

did not look very promising for game. 'It's no
use going that way,* I says to myself ; * 1*11 keep
along the ridge, above where Frank's gone. He
may drive some varmint out of the hollow, and I'll
get a crack at it, a^ it comes over the hill.'

" I was about to turn to the left when T heard the
skreek of a bird away ahead of me. I looked in
that direction j and, bare enough, saw one wheeling
about in the air, right above the rocky jumble with
which the country was covered.

" Now it's a mighty curious bird that I saw.
It's a sort of an owl, but, I should say myself,
there's a sprinkling of the hawk in it — for it's as
much like the one as the other."

" No doubt," interrupted Lucien, " it was one
of the day owls of these Northern regions, some of
which approach very near to the hawks, both in
shape and habits. This peculiarity arises from the
fact of the long summer day — of weeks in duration
— ^within the Arctic circle, requiring them to hunt
for their prey, just as hawks do ; and therefore
Nature has gifted them with certain peculiarities
that make them resemble these birds. They want
the very broad faces and large tufted heads of the
true owls ; besides the ears, which in the latter are

■Hi

442

THE ** ALARM BIRD ** AND

remarkable for their size, and also for being oper-
culated, or with lids, in the former are not much
larger than in other birds of prey. The small
hawk-owl ( Strix funerea\ which is altogether a
Northern bird, is one of this kind.

" Very well," continued Norman, " what you
say may be very true, cousin Luce j I only know
that the bird I am speaking about is a mighty
curious little creature. It ain*t bigger than a
pigeon, and is of a mottled brown colour ; but what
I call it curious for is this : — Whenever it sees any
creature passing from place to place, it mounts up
into the air, and hovers above them, keeping up a
constant screeching, like the squalling of a child —
and that's anything but agreeable. It does so,
not only in the neighbourhood of its nest — ^like
the plover and some other birds — but it will
sometimes follow a travelling party for hours to-
gether, and for miles across the country. From
this circumstance the Indians of these parts call
it the * alarm bird,* or * bird of warning, ' be-
cause it often makes them aware of the approach
either of their enemies or of strangers. Sometimes
it alarms and startles the game, while the hunter is
crawling up to it ; and I have known it to bother

THE CABIBOU. ,i 443

myself for a while of a day, when I was after
grouse. It's a great favourite with the Indians
though — as it often guides them to dct., or musk-
oxen, by its fl3^ng and screaming above where
these animals are feeding.

" Just in the same way it guided me. I knew,
from the movements of the bird, that there must
be something among the rocks. I couldn't tell
what, but I hoped it would turn out to be some
creature that was eatable ; so I changed my in-
tention, and struck out for the place where it was.

** It was a good half mile from the hill, and it
cost me considerable clambering over the rocks,
before I reached the ground. I thought to get near
enough to see what it was, without drawing the
bird upon myself, and I crouched from hummock
to hummock; but the sharp-eyed creature caught
sight of me, and came screeching over my head. I
kept on without noticing it ; but as I was obliged
to go round some large rocks, I lost the direction,
and soon found myself wandering back into my own
trail. I could do nothing, therefore, until the bird
should leave me, and fly back to whatever had
first set it a-going. In order that it might do so,
I crept in under a big stone that jutted out, and

■■

444

TTiE *< ALARM BIRD ** AND

lay quiet a bit, watching it. It soon flew off, and
commenced wheeling about in the air, not more
than three hundred yards from where I lay. This
time I took good bearings, and then went on.
I did not care for the bird to guide me any
longer, for I observed there was an open spot
ahead, and I was sure that there I would see
something. And sure enough I did. On peeping
round the end of a rock, I spied a herd of about
fifty deer. They were reindeer, of course, as there
are no others upon the * Barren Girounds,* and I
saw they were dl does — for at this season the bucks
keep altogether in the woods. Some of them were
pawing the snow to get at the moss, while others
were standing by the rocks, and tearing off the
lichens with their teeth. It so happened that I
had the wind of them, else they would have scented
me and made off, for I was within a hundred yards
of the nearest. I was not afraid of their taking
fright, so long as they could only see part of my
body — for these deer are so stupid, or rather
so curious, that almost anything will draw them
within shot. Knowing this, I practised a trick
that had often helped me before; and that was
to move the barrel of my gun, up and down, with

THE CARIBOU.

445

the same sort of motion as the deer make with
their horns, when rubbing their necks against a
rock or tree. If I'd had a set of antlers, it would
have been all the better ; but the other answered
well enough. It happened the animals were not
very wild, as, likely, they hadn't been hunted lor
a good while. I bellowed at the same time, — for I
know how to imitate their call — and, in less ' an a
minute's time, I got several of them within ran^e.
Then T took aim, and knocked one over, and tlie
rest ran off. That," said Norman, " ended my
adventure — unless you call the carrying a good
hundred pounds weight of deer-meat all the way
back to camp part of it. K so, I can assure you
that it was by far the most unpleasant part."

Here Norman finished his narration, and a con-
versation was carried on upon the subject of rein-
deer, or, as these animals are termed, in America,
" caribou."

Lucien said that the reindeer ( Cervus tarandus)
is found in the Northern regions of Europe and
Asia as well as in America, but that there were
several varieties of them, and perhaps there were
different species. Those of Lapland are most
celebrated, because they not only draw sledges,

446

THE " ALARM BIRD ** AND

but also furnish food, clothing, and many other
commodities for their owners. In the north of
Asia, the Tungusians have a much larger sort,
which they ride upon ; and the Koreki, who dwell
upon the borders of Kamschatka, possess vast herds
of reindeer — some rich individuals owning as many
as ten or twenty thousand I

It is not certain that the reindeer of America
is exactly the same as either of the kinds men-
tioned ; and indeed in America itself there are two
very distinct kinds — perhaps a third. Two kinds
are well known, that differ from each other in size,
and also in habits. One is the "Barren Ground
caribou," and the other, the " Woodland caribou."
The former is one of the smallest of the deer kind —
the bucks weighing little over one hundred pounds.
As its name implies, it frequents the Barren
Grounds, although in winter it also seeks the shelter
of wooded tracts. Upon the Barren Grounds, and
tlie desolate shores and islands of the Arctic Sea, it
is the only kind of deer found, except at one or two
points, as the mouth of the Mackenzie River—
which happens to be a wooded country, and there
the moose also is met with. Nature seems to have
gifted the Barren Ground caribou with such tastes

THE CARIBOU.

447

»»

and habits, that a fertile country and a genial clime
would not be a pleasant home for it. It seems
adapted to the bleak, sterile countries in which it
dwells, and where its favourite food — the mosses
and lichens — is found. In the short summer of the
Arctic regions, it ranges still farther north ; and
its traces have been found wherever the Northern
navigators have gone. It must remain among the
icy islands of the Arctic Sea until winter be con-
siderably advanced, or until the sea is so frozen
as to allow it to get back to the shores of the
continent.

The " Woodland caribou " is a larger variety —
a "Woodland doe being about as big as a Barren
Ground buck — although the horns of the latter
species are larger and more branching than those of
the former. The Woodland kind are found around
the shores of Hudson's Bay, and in other wooded
tracts that lie in the southern parts of the fur coun-
tries — into which the Barren Ground caribou
never penetrates, 'i'hey also migrate annually, but,
strange to say, their spring migrations are south-
ward, while, at the same season, their cousins of
the Barren Grounds are making their way north-
ward to the shores of the Arctic Sea. This is a

^PUPiVIRpw^Plim

448

THE " ALARM BEBD ** AND

J-

;;!f-

f!i

very singular difference in their habits, and along
with their difference in bulk, form, &c. entitles
them to be ranked as separate species of deer. The
flesh of the Woodland caribou is not esteemed so
good an article of food as that of the other ; and, as
it inhabits a district where many large animals are
found, it is not considered of so much importance in
the economy of human life. The " Barren Ground
caribou," on the other hand, is an indispensable
animal to various iilbes of Indians, as well as to
the Esquimaux. Without it, these people would
be unable to dwell where they do ; and although
they have not domesticated it, and trained it to
draught, like the Laplanders, it forms their main
source of subsistence, and there is no part of its
body which they do not turn to some useful pur-
pose. Of its horns they form their fish-spears and
hooks, and, previous to the introduction of iron by
the Europeans, their ice-chisels and various other
utensils. Their scraping or currying knives are
made from the split shin-bones. The skins make
their clothing, tent-covers, beds, and blankets.
The raw hide, cleared of the hair and cut into
thongs, serves for snares, bow-strings, net-lines, and
every other sort of ropes. The finer thongs make

THE CARIBOU.

'ft-

449

netting for snow-shoes — an indispensable article to
these people — and of these thongs fish-nets are also
woven ; while the tendons of the muscles, when
split, serve for fine sewing-thread. Besides these
uses, the flesh of the caribou is the food of many
tribes, Indians and Esquimaux, for most of the
year ; and, indeed, it may be looked upon as their
staple article of subsistence. There is hardly any
part of it (even the horns, when soft) that is not
eaten and relished by them. Were it not for the
immense herds of these creatures that roam over
the country, they would soon be exterminated —
for they are easily approached, and the Indians
have very little difficulty, during the summer
season, in killing as many as they please.

Norman next gave a description of the various
modes of hunting the caribou practised by the
Indians and Esquimaux ; such as driving them
into a pound, snaring them, decoying and shooting
them with arrows, and also a singular way which
the Esquimaux have of taking them in a pit-trap
built in the snow.

" The sides of the trap," said he, *' are built of
slabs of snow, cut as if to make a snow-house.
An inclined plane of snow leads to the entrance of

O G

450

THE " ALABM BIRD *' AND

the pit, which is about five feet deep, and large
enough within to hold several deer. The exterior
of the trap is banked up on all sides with snow ;
but so steep are these sides left, that the deer can
only get up by the inclined plane which leads to
the entrance. A great slab of snow is then placed
over the mouth of the pit, and revolves on two
axles of wood. This slab will carry the deer until
it has passed the line of the axles, when its weight
overbalances one side, and the animal is pre-
cipitated into the pit. The slab then comes back
into a horizontal position as before, and is ready to
receive another deer. The animals are attracted
by moss and lichens placed for them on the
opposite ^ide of the trap — in such a way that they
cannot be reached without crossing the slab. In
this sort of trap several deer are frequently
caught during a single day."

Norman knew another mode of hunting prac-
tised by the Esquimaux, and proposed that the
party should proceed in search of the herd upon
the following day ; when, should they succeed in
finding the deer, he would show them how the
thing was done ; and he had no doubt of their
being able to make a good hunt of it. All agreed

THE CARIBOU.

■1:^

461

to this proposal, as it would be of great impor-
tance to them to kill a large number of these
animals. It is true they had now provision enough
to serve for several days — ^but there were perhaps
months, not days, to be provided for. They be-
lieved that they could not be far from the wooded
countries near the banks of the Mackenzie, as some
kinds of the animal they had met with were only
to be found near timber during the winter season.
But what of that ? Even on the banks of the great
river itself they might not succeed in procuring
game. They resolved, therefore, to track the herd
ot deer which Norman had seen ; and for this
I rpose they agreed to make a stay of some days
at their present camp.

I-'

452

i
A BATTLE WITH WOLYES.

CHAPTER XXXVni.

A BATTLE WITH WOLVES

Next morning they were up by early day-break.
The days were now only a few hours m length,
for it was mid-winter, and they were but three
or four degrees south of the Arctic circle. Of
course they would require all the day for the
intended hunt of the caribou, as they might have
to follow the track of the herd for many miles
before coming up with the animals. Lucien was
to remain by the camp, as it would never do to
leave the animals they had already killed without
some guard. To have hung them on the trees,
would have put them out of the reach of both
wolves and foxes; but the lynx and wolverene
are both tree-climbers, and could easily have got
at them there. They had reason to believe there
were wolverenes about ; for these fierce and

A BATTLE WITH WOLVES.

453

destructive beasts are found in every part of the
fur countries — ^wherever there exist other animala
upon which they can prey. Eagles, hawks, and
owls, moreover, would have picked the partridges
from the branches of the trees without difficulty.
One proposed burying them in the snow; but
Norman assured them that the Arctic foxes
could scent them out, and dig them up in a few
minutes. Then it was suggested to cover them
under a pile of stones, as there were plenty of
these lying about. To this Norman also objected,
saying that the wolverene could pull off any stones
they were able to pile upon them — as this creature
in its fore-l<?gs possesses more than the strength
of a man. Besides, it was not unlikely that one
of the great brown bears, — a species entirely dif-
ferent from either the black or grizzly bears, and
which is only met with on Ihe Barren Grounds —
might come ranging that way ; and he could soon
toss over any stone-heap they might build. On
the whole it was better that one of the four should
remain by the camp ; and Lucien, who cared less
about hunting than any of them, willingly a^eed
to be the one.

Their arrang Laments were soon completed, and

■; I

454

A BATTLE WITH WOLVES.

the three hunters set out. They did not go
straight towards the place where Norman had
found the deer upon the preceding day, but took
a cross-cut over the hills. This was by Norman's
advice, who guided himself by the wind — ^which
had not changed since the previous day. He
knew that the caribou in feeding always travel
against the wind ; and he expected therefore to
find them somewhere in the direction from which
it was blowing. Following a course, which angled
with that of the wind, they kept on, expecting
soon to strike the trail of the herd.

Meanwhile Lucien, left to himself, was not idle.
He had to prepare the flesh of the different animals,
so as to render it fit to be carried along. Nothing
was required farther than to skin and cut them
up. Neither salting nor drying was necessary,
for the flesh of one and all had got frozen as stiff
as a stone, and in this way it would keep during
the whole winter. The wolf was skinned with the
others, but this was because his fine skin was
wanted. His flesh was not intended to be eaten —
although only a day or two before any one of the
party would have been glad of such a meal. Not
only the Indians, but the voyageurs and fur-

A BATTLE WITH WOLVES.

455

traders, while journeying through these inhospitable
wilds, are often but too delighted to get a dinner of
wolf-meat. The ermine and the little mouse were
the only other creatures of the collection that were
deemed uneatable. As to the Arctic fox and the
lynx, the flesh of both these creatures is highly
esteemed, and is white and tender, almost as much
so as the hares upon which they feed. The snowy
owl too, the jerfalcon, and the eagle, were looked
upon as part of the larder — the flesh of all being
almost as good as that of the grouse. Had it
been a fishing eagle — such as the bald-head — the
case would have been different, for these last, on
account of their peculiar food, taste rank and dis-
agreeable. But there was no danger of their
falling in with a fishing eagle at that place. These
can only exist where there is open water.
Hence the cause of their annual migrations to the
southward, when the lakes and rivers of the fur
countries become covered with their winter ice.

Though Lucien remained quietly at the camp he
was not without adventures to keep him from
wearying. While he was singeing his grouse
his eye happened to fall upon the shadow of a bird
passing over the snow. On looking up he saw a

. 1
I i

456

A BATTLE WITH WOLVES.

very large bird, nearly as big as an eagle, fljing
softly about in wide circles. It was of a mottled-
brown colour ; but its short neck and great
round head told the naturalist at a glance that it
was a bird of the owl genus. It was the largest
of the kind that Lucien had ever seen, and was, in
fact, the largest known in America — the "great
cinereous owl" (Strix cinere.d). Now and then it
would alight upon a rock or tree, at the distance of
an hundred yards or so from, the camp ; where it
would watch the operations of Lucien, evidently
inclined to help him in dissecting some of the
animals. Whenever he took up his gun and tried
to approach within shot, it would rise into the air
again, always keeping out of range. Lucien was
provoked at this — for he wished, as a naturalist, to
examine the bird, and for this purpose to kill it,
of course ; but the owl seemed determined that he
should do no such thing.

At length, however, Lucien resolved upon a
plan to decoy the creature within shot. Taking
up one of the grouse, he flung it out upon the
snow some thirty yards from the fire. No
sooner had he done so, than the owl, at sight of the
tempting morsel, left aside both its shyness and

A BATTLE WITH WOLVES.

467

prudence, and sailed gently forward ; then, hovering
for a moment over the ground, hooked the grouse
upon its claws, and was about to carry it off, when
a bullet from Lucien's rifle, just in the " nick of
time," put a stop to its further flight, and dropped
the creature dead upon the snow.

Lucien picked it up and brought it to the camp,
where he passed some time in making notes upon
its size, colour, and other peculiarities. The owl
measured exactly two feet in length from the point
of the bill to the end of the tail ; and its " alar
spread," as naturalists term it, was full five feet
in extent. It was of a clove-brown colour, beau-
tifully mottled with white, and its bill and eyes
were of a bright gamboge yellow. Like all of its
tribe that winter in the Arctic wilds, it was
feathered to the toes. Lucien reflected that this
species lives more in the woods than the " great
snowy owl," and, as he had heard, is never found
far out on the Barren Grounds during winter.
This fact, therefore, was a pleasant one to reflect
upon, for it confirmed the testimony which the
travellers had already obtained from several of the
other creatures they had killed — that is to say.

' .

^mmi^mm

458

A BATTLE WITH WOLVES.

f >

that thej must be in tho neighbourhood of some
timbered country. '■ ■ *^

Lucien had hardly finished his examination of
the owl when he was called upon to witness another
incident of a much more exciting nature. A hill,
as already mentioned, or rather a ridge, rose up
from the opposite shore of the lake by which the
camp was pitched. The declivity of this hill
fronted the lake, and sloped gradually back from the
edge of the water. Its whole face was smooth ; id
treeless, covered with a layer of pure snow, a .le
camp conunanded a full view of it up to its very
crest.

As Lucien was sitting quietly by the fire a
singular sound, or rather continuation of sounds,
fell upon his ear. It somewhat resembled the bay-
ing of hounds at a distance ; and at first he was
inclined to believe that it was Marengo on a view-
hunt after the deer. On listening more attentively,
however, he observed that the sounds came from
more than one animal ; and also, that they bore
more resemblance to the howling of wolves than
the deep-toned bay of a blood-hound. This, in
fact, it was ; for the next moment a caribou shot

▲ BATTLE WITH WOLVES.

459

up over the crest of the hill, and was seen
, stretching at full gallop down the smooth declivity
in the direction of the lake. Not twenty paces in
its rear followed a string of howling animals,
evidently in pursuit of it. There were a dozen
of them in all, and they ' were running exactly like
hounds upon the " view holloa." Lucien saw at a
glance they were wolves. Most of them wiire
dappled-grey and white, while some were of a pure
white colour. Any one of them was nearly as
large as the caribou itself; for in these parts —
around Great Slave Lake — the wolf grows to his
largest size.

The caribou gained upon them as it bounded
down the slope of the hill. It was evidently
making for the lake, believing, no doubt, that
the black ice upon its surface was water, and that
in that element it would have the advantage of its
pursuers, for the caribou is a splendid swinmier.
Nearly all deer vhen hunted take to the water — to
throw off the dogs, or escape from men — and to this
habit the reindeer makes no exception.

Down the hill swept the chase, Lucien having a
full view both of pursuers and pursued. The deer
ran boldly. It seemed to have gathered fresh con

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460

A BATTLE WITH WOLVES.

fidence at flight of the lake, while the same object
caused its pursuers a feeling of disappointment.
They knew they were no match for a caribou in the
water, as no doubt many a one had escaped them
in that element. It is not likely, however, that they
made reflections of this sort. There was but little
time. From the moment of their appearance upon
the crest of the hill till the chase arrived at the edge
of the lake, was but a few seconds. On reaching
the shore the caribou made no stop; but bounded
forward in the same way as if it had been springing
upon water. Most likely it expected to hear a
plunge ; but, instead of that, its hoofs came down
upon the hard ice ; and, by the impulse thus given,
the animal shot out with the velocity of a skater.
Strange to say, it still kept its feet ; but, now seem-
ingly overcome by surprise, and knowing the
advantage its pursuers would have over it upon
the slippery ice, it began to plunge and flounder,
and once or twice came to its knees. The hungry
pursuers appeared to recognise their advantage at
once, for their howling opened with a fresh burst,
and they quickened their pacje. Their sharp claws
enabled them to gallop over the ice at top speed ;
and .e large brute that led the pack soon came up

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A BATTLE WITH WOLYES.

461

with the deer, sprang upon it, and bit it in the
flank. This brought the deer upon its haunches,
and at once put an end to the chase. The animal
was hardly down upon the ice, when the foremost
wolves coming up precipitated themselves upon
its body, and began to devour it.

It was about the middle of the lake where the
caribou had been overtaken. At the time it first
reached the ice, Lucien had laid Lold of his rifle
and run forward in order to meet the animal half-
way, and, if possible, get a shot at it. Now
that the creature was killed, he continued on
with the design of driving oflf the wolves, and
securing the carcass of the deer for himself. He
kept alonfT the ice until he was within less than
twenty yards of the pack, when, seeing that the
fierce brutes had torn the deer to pieces, and per-
ceiving, moreover, that they exhibited no fear of
himself, he began to think he might be in danger
by advanci^ig any nearer. Perhaps a shot from his
rifle would scatter them, and without further reflec-
tion he raised the piece, and fired. One of the
wolves kicked over upon the ice, and lay quite dead ;
but the others, to Lucien's great surprise, instead
of being frightened ofl*, immediately sprang upon

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462

A BATTLE WITH WOLVES.

their dead companion, and coiiimenced tearing and
devouring it, just as they had done the deer!

The sight filled Lucien with alarm ; which was
increased at seeing several of the wolves — that had
been beaten by the others from the quarry —
commence making demonstrations towards himself!
Lucien now trembled for his safety, and no wonder.
He was near the middle of the lake upon slippery
ice. To attempt running back to the camp would
be hazardous ; the wolves could overtake him be-
fore he had got half-way, and he felt certain that
any signs of fear on his part would be the signal
for the fierce brutes to assail him.

For some moments he was irresolute how to
act. He had commenced loading his gun, but his
fingers were numbed with the cold, and it was a
good while before he could get the piece ready for
a second fire. He succeeded at length. He did
not fire then, but resolved to keep the charge for
a more desperate crisis. Could he but reach the
camp there were trees near it, and one of these he
might climb. This was his only hope, in case
the wolves attacked him, and he knew it was.
Instead of turning and running for this point, he
began to back for it stealthily and with caution,

ifs

A BATTLE WITH WOLVES.

463

keeping his front all the while towards the wolves,
and his eyes fixed upon them. He had not got
many yards, when he perceived to his horror, that
the whole pack were in motion, and coming after
him! It was a terrible sight, and Lucien seeing
that by retreating he only drew them on, stopped
and held his rifle in a threatening attitude. The
wolves were now within twenty yards of him ;
but, instead of moving any longer directly towards
him, they broke into two lines, swept past on
opposite sides of him, and then circling rounds
met each other in his rear. His retreat was
cut off!

He now stood upon the ice with the fierce
wolves forming a ring around him, whose diameter
was not the six lengths of his gun, and every
moment growing shorter and shorter. The pros-
pect was appalling. It would have caused the
stoutest heart to quail, and Lucien's was terrified.
He shouted at the top of his voice. He fired his
rifle at the nearest. The brute fell, but the others
showed no symptoms of fear ; they only grew
more furious. Lucien clubbed his gun — the last
resort in such cases — and laid around him with
all his might; but he was in danger of slipping

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464

A BATTLE WITH WOLVES.

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upon the ice, and his efforts were feeble. Once
down he never would have risen again, for his fierce
assailants would have sprung upon him like tigers.
As it was, he felt but little hope. He believed
himself lost. The teeth of the ferocious monsters
gleamed under his eyes. He was growing weaker
and weaker, yet still he battled on, and swept
his gun around him with the energy of despair.
Such a struggle could not have continued much
longer, Lucien's fate would have been sealed in
a very few minutes more, had not relief arrived
in some shape or other. But it did come. A loud
shout was heard upon the hill ; and Lucien, glancing
suddenly towards it, saw several forms rushing
downward to the lake ! It was the hunting party
returned, and in a moment more they were crossing
the ice to his rescue. Lucien gaining confidence
fought with fresh vigour. The wolves busy in their
attack had either not heard or were regardless of the
new-comers ; but the "crack, crack" of the guns-
repeated no less than four times — and then the
nearer reports of pistols, made a speedy impression
upon the brutes, and in a short while half their
number were seen tumbling and kicking upon
the ice. The rest, uttering their hideous howls,

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A. BATTLE WITH WOLVES.

465

took to flight, and soon disappeared from the
yalley ; and Lucien, half dead with fatigue, stag-
gered into the arms of his deliverers.

No less than seven of the wolves were killed
in the affray — two of which Lucien had shot him-
self. One or two were only wounded, but so
badly, that they could not get away; and these
were handed over to the tender mercies of Ma-
rengo, who amused himself for some time after by
worrying them to death.

The hunting party had made a good day of it.
They had fallen in with the caribou, and had
killed three of them. These they were bringing
to camp, but had dropped them upon the hill, on
perceiving the perilous position of Lucien. They
now went back, and having carried the deer to
their camping-place, were soon engaged in the
pleasant occupation of eating a savoury dinner.
Lucien soon recovered from his fright and fatigue,
and amused his companions by giving an account
of the adventures that had befallen him in their
absence.

B H

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466

END OP THr " VOYAGE."

CHAPTER XXXIX.

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END OF THE " VOYAGE."

Our party remained several days at this place,
until they had made a fresh stock of " pemmican"
from the flesh of the caribou, several more of
which they succeeded in killing ; and then, ar-
ranging everything anew, and taking with them
such skins as they wanted, they continued their
journey.

They had two days' hard travelling through
a rocky mountainous country, where they could not
find a stick of wood to cook their meals with, and
were exposed to cold more than at any other
place. Both Fran9ois and Lucien had their faces
frost-bitten ; but they were cured by Norman, who
prevented them from going near a fire until he had
well rubbed the parts with soft snow.

"ESD OP THE " VOYAGE."

467

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The rocks through which they passed were in
manj places covered with the tripe de rocke
(^Gyrophora) of several species ; but our voy-
ageurs cared nothing about it so long as their
pemmican lasted, and of that each of them had
nearly as much as he could carry.

In the most dreary part of the mountains they
chanced upon a herd of those curious animals, the
musk-oxen, and shot one of them ; but the meat
tasted so rank, and smelt so strongly of musk, that
the whole of it was left to the wolves, foxes, and
other preying creatures of these parts.

On the third day, after leaving their camp by
the lake, a pleasant prospect opened before them.
It was the valley of the Mackenzie, stretching to
the west, and extending north and south as far as
the eye could reach, covered with forests of pine
and poplar, and other large trees. Of course the
landscape was a winter one, as the river was bound
up in ice, and the trees themselves were half-white
with frozen snow ; but after the dreary scenery of
the barren grounds, even this appeared warm and
summer-like. There was no longer any danger
they should be without a good fire to cook their
dinners, or warm themselves at, and a wooded

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468

END OP THE " VOYAGE.**

•

country offers a better prospect of game. The
sight, therefore, of a great forest was cheering i
and our travellers, in high spirits, planted their
tent upon the banks of the great Northern river.
They had still many hundred miles to go before
arriving at their destination ; but they determined
to continue their journey without much delay,
following the river as a guide. No more " near
cuts" were to be taken in future. They had
learned, from their recent experience, that "the
shortest way across is sometimes the longest way
round," and they resolved to profit by the lesson.
I hope, boy reader, you too will remember it.

After reaching the Mackenzie the voyageurs
halted one day, and upon the next commenced
their journey down-stream. Sometimes they kept
upon the bank, but at times, for a change, they
travelled upon the ice of the river. There was
no danger of its giving way under them, for
it was more than a foot in thickness, and would
have supported a loaded waggon and horses, with-
out even cracking.

They were now drawing near the Arctic circle,
and the days grew shorter and shorter as they
advanced. But this did not much interfere with

END OF THE " VOTAOE."

I.)

469

their travelling. The long nights of the Polar
regions are not like those of more Southern lati»
tudes. Thej are sometimes so clear, that one
may read the smallest print. What with the
coruscations of the aurora borealis, and the cheer-
ful gleaming of the Northern constellations, one
may travel without difficulty throughout the live-
long night. I am sure, my young friend, you
have made good use of your globes, and need
not be told that the length of both nights and
days, as you approach the pole, depends upon two
things — the latitude of the place, and the season
of the year ; and were you to spend a whole
year leaning against the pole itself y {! ) you would
live but one day and one night — each of them
six months in length.

But no doubt you know all these things without
my telling you of them, and you are impatient to
hear not about that, but whether the young voy-
ageurs safely reached the end of their journey.
That question I answer briefly at once — they did.

Some distance below the point where they had
struck the Mackenzie, they fell in with a winter en-
campment of Dog-rib Indians. Some of these people
had been to the Fort to trade ; and Norman being

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470

BND OP THE ** VOTAGE.*

h .

known to them, he and his Southern cousins were
received with much hospitality. All their wants
were provided for, as far as it lay in the power of
these pocMT people to do ; but the most valuable thing
obtained from the Indians was a full set of dogs and
dog-sledges for the whole party. These were fur-
nished by the chief, upon the understanding that he
should be paid for them on his next visit to the
Fort. Although the reindeer of North America
are not trained to the sledge by the Esquimaux
and Indians, several kinds of dogs are ; and a single *
pair of these faithful creatures will draw a full-
grown man at a rate that exceeds almost every other
mode of travelling — steam excepted. When our
voyageurs, therefore, flung away their snow-shoes,
and, wrapped in their skin cloaks, seated themselves
snugly in their dog-sledges, the five hundred miles
that separated them from the Fort were soon
reduced to nothing ; and one afternoon, four small
sledges, each carrying a " young voyageur," with
a large bloodhound galloping in the rear, were seen
driving up to the stockade fence surrounding the
Fort. Before they had quite reached the gate,
there was a general rush of trappers, traders,
voyageurs, coureurs-des-bois, and other employes, to

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IIIK AUUIVAI, AT THK FORT. —PflfJC 470.

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END OF THE ** TOTAGE.

471

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reach them; and the next moment they were lost
in the midst of the people who crowded oat of
the Fort to welcome them. This was their hour
of happiness and joy. | ^

To me there is. an hour of regret, and I hope,
boy reader, to you as well — the hour of our parting
with the " Young Voyageubs."

THE END.

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Printed by G. Barclay, Castle St. Leicester Sq.

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