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STRIOKUNO & PHRSOM. 
 Booksellers and Statio&en, 
 
THE YOUNG YOYAGEURS ; 
 
 OR, THE 
 
 BOY HUNTERS IN THE NORTH 
 
 CAPTAIN MAYNE EEID, 
 
 AUTHOR OF "THS BOY HUNTESS," "THE DHSERT HOME," ETC, 
 
 VvTLTn TWELVE ILLUSTRATIONS, BY W. HARVEY. 
 
 A NEW EDITION, 
 WITH A MEMOIR BY R. H. STODDARD. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 THOMAS E. KNOX & CO., 
 
 Successors to Jat^ies Miller, 
 813 Broadway. 
 
Entered according to act of CongrcBS, in the year 1852, by" 
 
 TICKNOR AND FIELDS, 
 
 in the Clerk's Office o*f*6i»l>iBtrict Court pf<;tl}e £)isfi:ict of Massachusetts. 
 
 Entered according to act of Congress, in the year 1884, by 
 
 THOMAS R. KNOX & CO., 
 in the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 
 
 New Yokk, January 1st, 1869. 
 Messrs. Fields, Osgood & Co.: — 
 
 I accept the terms offered, and hereby concede to you the exchisive right of 
 publication, in the United States, of tOl my juvenile Tales of Adventure, known 
 
 as Boys' Novels. 
 
 MAYNE REID. 
 
 TR0W*8 
 
 PRINTING AND BOOKBINDING COMPANV, 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
K5ND FATHEjf? 
 dENTLE AND AFFECTIONATE xMOTHFJfl, 
 
 ACCEPT THIS TRIBUTE OF 
 A B<>M'8 GRATITDDE. 
 
 MAYNE REID 
 
 M22160 
 
MEMOIR OF MAYIS^E EEID. 
 
 No one who has written books for the young during the 
 present century ever had so large a circle of readers aa 
 Captain Mayne Reid, or ever was so well fitted by circum* 
 stances to write the books by which he is chiefly known. 
 His life, which was an adventurous one, was ripened with 
 the experience of two Continents, and his temperament, 
 which was an ardent one, reflected the traits of two races. 
 Irish by birth, he was American in his sympathies with 
 the people of the New World, whose acquaintance he 
 made at an early period, among whom he lived for years, 
 and whose battles he helped to win. He was probably 
 more familiar with the Southern and Western portion of 
 the United States forty years ago than any native-born 
 American of that time. A curious interest attaches to the- 
 life of Captain Reid, but it is not of the kind that casual 
 biographers dwell upon. If he had written it himself it 
 would have charmed thousands of readers, who can now 
 merely imagine what it might have been from the glimpses 
 of it which they obtain in his writings. It was not passed 
 in the fierce light of publicity, but in that simple, silent 
 obscurity which is the lot of most men, and is their hap^ 
 piness, if they only knew it. 
 
 Briefly related, the life of Captain Reid was as follows : 
 He was born in 1818, in the north of Ireland, the son ot 
 a Presbyterian clergyman, who was a type of the class 
 which Goldsmith has described so freshly in the " Deserted 
 Village," and was highly thought of for his labors among 
 the poor of his neighborhood. An earnest, reverent man, 
 to whom his calling was indeed a sacred one, he designee! 
 his son Mayne for the ministry, in the hope, no doubt, 
 that he would be Lis successor. But nature liad some- 
 thing to say about that, as well as his good father. He 
 began to study for the ministry, but it was not long before 
 1 
 
he was drawn in another direction. Always a great reader, 
 his favorite books were descriptions of travel in foreign 
 lands, particularly those which dealt with the scenery, 
 the people, and the resources of America. The spell which 
 these exercised over his imagination, joined to a love of 
 adventure which was inherent in his temperament, and 
 inherited, perhaps with his race, determined his career. 
 At the age of twenty he closed his theological tomes, and 
 girding up his loins with a stout heart he sailed from the 
 81 lores of the Old World for the New. Following the 
 spirit in his feet he landed at New Orleans, which was 
 probably a more promising field for a young man of his 
 talents than any Northern city, and was speedily engaged 
 in business. The nature of this business is not stated, 
 further than it was that of a trader ; but whatever it was 
 it obliged this young Irishman to make long journeys into 
 the interior of the country, which was almost a terra in- 
 cognita. Sparsely settled, where settled at all, it was still 
 clothed in primeval verdure — here in the endless reach of 
 savannas, there in the depth of pathless woods, and far 
 away to the North and the West in those monotonous 
 ocean like levels of land for which the speech of England 
 has no name — the Prairies. Its population was nomadic, 
 not to say barbaric, consisting of tribes of Indians whoee 
 hunting grounds from time immemorial the region was ; 
 hunters and trappers, who had turned their backs upon 
 civilization for the free, wild life of nature ; men of 
 doubtrul or dangerous antecedents, who had found it con- 
 venient to leave their country for their country's good ; 
 and scattered about hardy pioneer communities from East- 
 ern States, advancing waves of the great sea of emigration 
 which is still drawing the course of empire westward. 
 Travelling in a country like this, and among people like 
 these, Mayne Reid pa.ssed five years of his early manhood. 
 He was at home wherever he went, and never more so 
 than when among the Indians of the Red River territory, 
 with whom he spent several months, learning their lan- 
 guage, studying their customs, and enjoying the wild and 
 beautiful scenery of their camping grounds. Indian for 
 the time, he lived in their lodges, rode with them, hunted 
 with them, and niglit alter night sat by their blazing 
 cain^-fires listening to the warlike stories of the braves 
 and the quaint legends of the medicine men. 'J here waa 
 that in the blood of Mayne Reid which fitted him to lead 
 this life at this time, and whether he knew it or not i> 
 
 2 
 
•ducated his genius as no other life could have done. It 
 familiarized him with a large extent of country in the 
 Bouth and West ; it introduced him to men and manneri 
 which existed nowhere else : and it revealed to him the 
 gecrets of Indian life and cliaracter. 
 
 There was another side, however, to Majme Reid than 
 that we have touched upon, and this, at the end of five 
 years, drew him back to the average life of his kind. We 
 find iiim next in Philadelphia, where he began to con- 
 tribute stories and sketches of travel to the newspapers 
 and magazines. Philadelphia was then the most literate 
 city in the United States, the one in which a clever writer 
 was at once encouraged and rewarded. Frank and warm- 
 hearted, he made many friends there among journalists 
 and authors. One of these friends was Edgar Allan Poe, 
 whom he often visited at his home in Spring Garden, and 
 concerning whom years after, when he was dead, he wrote 
 with loving tenderness. 
 
 The next episode in the career of Mayne Reid was not 
 what one would expect from a man of letters, though it 
 »ras iust what might have been expected from a man of 
 his temperament and antecedents. It grew out of the 
 time, which was warlike, and it drove him into the army 
 witli which the United States speedily crushed the forces 
 Ol the sister Republic — Mexico. He obtained a commis- 
 sion, and served throughout the war with great bravery 
 and distinction. This stormy episode ended with a severe 
 wound, which he received in storming the heights of Cha- 
 pultepec — a terrible battle which practically ended the 
 war. 
 
 A second episode of a similar character, but with a more 
 fortunate conclusion, occurred about four years later. It 
 grew out of another war, which, happily for us, was not on 
 our borders, but in the heart of Europe, where the Hun- 
 garian race had risen in insurrection against the hated power 
 of Austria. Their desperate valor in the face of tremen- 
 dous odds excited the sympathy of the American people, 
 and fired the heart of Captain Mayne Reid, who buckled 
 'on his sword once more, and sailed from New York with 
 a body of volunteers to aid the Hungarians in their struggles 
 for independence. They were too late, for hardly had 
 they reached Paris before they learned that all was over : 
 Gorgey had surrendered at Arad, and Hungary was 
 crushed. They were at once dismissed, and Captain Reid 
 betook himself to London. 
 
 a 
 
The life of tlie Mayne Kelrl in whom we are most in« 
 terested — Mayne Eeid, the aathor — began at this time, 
 when he was in his tliirty-first year, and ended only on 
 the day of his death, October 21, 1883. It covered one- 
 third of a century, and was, when compared with that 
 which had preceded it, uneventful, if not devoid of in- 
 cident. There is not much that needs be told— not much, 
 indeed, that can be told — in the life of a man of letters 
 like Captain Mayne Reid. It is written in his books. 
 Mayne Reid was one of the best known authors of his 
 time — differing in this from many authors who are popu- 
 lar without being known— and in the walk of fiction which 
 he discovered for himself he is an acknowledged mas- 
 ter. His reputation did not depend upon the admiration 
 of the millions of yoiing people who read his books, but 
 upon the judgment of mature critics, to whom his delinea- 
 tions of adventurous life were literature of no common 
 order. His reputation as a story-teller was widely recog- 
 nized on the Continent, where he was accepted as aa 
 authority in regard to the customs of the pioneers and the 
 guerilla warfare of the Indian tribes, and was warmly 
 praised for his freshness, his novelty, and his hardy origi- 
 nality. The people of France and Germany delighted in 
 this soldier-writer. " There was not a word in his books 
 which a school-boy could not safely read aloud to his 
 mother and sisters." So says a late English critic, to which 
 another adds, that if he has somewhat gone out of fashion 
 of late years, the more's the pity for the school-boy of the 
 period. What Defoe is in Robinson Crusoe — realistic id}>I 
 of island solitude — that, in his romantic stories of wilder-- 
 life, Is his great scholar, Captain Mayne Reid. 
 
 R. H. Stoddaiuo. 
 
 4 
 
PREFACE 
 
 In the "Boy Hunters" the Author endeaycred to ilkstrate 
 the 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 .ntroduced without "bringing the mountain to Mahomet." 
 To aToid this, the "Boy Hunters" — under the name of the 
 "Young Voyageurs" — 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 oi effect, with the laws 
 of nature — with its fauna or its fora. Neither plant nor tree, 
 bird nor mammal, has been pressed into service beyond the limits 
 of its (jeo(/raj)hical range ; although, in illustrating the habits oi 
 history of God's wild creatures, he has often selected only theii 
 more peculiar characteristics." 
 
 If the " Young Voyageurs " receive only as much applause m 
 their new character, as they did in that of the " Boy Hunters," 
 the Author will have no reason to complain of his ♦' boy public *' 
 
 London. November^ 1853. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 L THE FUB COUNTRIES, . . , . . • 
 
 U. THE YOUNG VOYAGEUBS, . . 17 
 
 ni. THE TRUMPETER SWAN AND BALD EAGUB, . 31 
 IV. THE SWANS OP AMERICA, . . . . ; 44 
 V. A SWAN-HUNT BY TORCHLIGHT, .... 83 
 
 TL «' CAST AWAY,»» 64 
 
 VU. A BRIDGE OF BUCKSKIN, W 
 
 yUL DECOYING THE «GOATS,»» .... .83 
 
 IX A "PARTRIDGE DANCE,*' . 91 
 
 X. BASIL AND THE BISON-BULL, ... » 
 
 AL THREE CURIOUS TREES, .... iOB 
 
 XIL HOW TO BUILD A BARK CANOP*, . . 119 
 
 Xin. THE CHAIN OF LAKES, .... 131 
 
 XIT. WAPITI, WOLVES, AND WOLVERENE, . . 131 
 
 XV A PAIR OF DEEP DIVERS, .... .147 
 
 XVL A GRAND SUNDAY DINNER, . . .I* 
 
9 CONTENTS. 
 
 ■APTBB PAOB 
 
 XVII. THE MARMOTS OF AMERICA, ... 168 
 
 XVIIL THE BLAIREAU, TAWNIES, AND LEOPARDS, 178 
 
 XIX. AN ODD SORT OF DECOY-DUCK, ... 187 
 
 XX- THE DUCKS OF AMERICA 200 
 
 XXL THE SHRIKE AND THE HUMMING-BIRDS, 209 
 
 XXII. THE FISH-HAWK, 215 
 
 XXIII THE OSPRAY AND HIS TYRAITr, . . 22» 
 
 XXIV. THE VOYAGE INTERRUPTED, ... 231 
 
 XXV. FISHING UNDER THE ICE, .... 237 
 
 XXVI. AN ODD ALARM, 243 
 
 XXVIL ENCOUNTER WITH A MOOSE, .... 255 
 
 XXVIIL LIFE IN A LOG-HUT, 263 
 
 XXIX. TRAVELLING ON SNOW-SHOES, ... 273 
 
 XXX. THE BARREN GROUNDS, .... 880 
 
 XXXL THE ROCK-TRIPE, 290 
 
 XXXIL THE POLAR HARE AND GREAT SNOWY OWL, 298 
 
 XXXIIL THE JUMPING MOUSE AND THE ERMINE, 309 
 
 XXXIV. THE ARCTIC FOX AND WHITE WOLF, . 315 
 
 XXXV. THE JERFALCON AND THE WHITE GROUSE, 325 
 
 XXX VL THE HARE, LYNX, AND GOLDEN EAGLE, 331 
 
 IXXVIL THE "ALARM BIRD" AND THE CARIBOU, 331 
 
 tXJVIII A BATTLE WITH WOLVES, ... 34T 
 
 XXXIX. END OF THE " VOVAGE," .... 361 
 
THE YOUNG V0YAGEUR8. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE FUR COUNTRIES. 
 
 BcTf READER, you have heard 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 something 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 answer 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 rail- 
 way 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 shaH 
 
It) THE FUR COUNTRIES. 
 
 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 ? Do^s the pros- 
 pect not deter you ? 
 
 No, I her; r, you. exclaim. I shall be satisfied with 
 the table — what c^are I for mahogany ? With the 
 l^ging-— I caii 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 territory. How vast .'' 
 You may take your scissors, and clip fifty Englamls 
 out of it ! There are lakes there in which you might 
 drown England, or make an island of it I 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 
 inunense tract is a wilderness — a howling wilder^ 
 ness, 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 any thing that can be dignified with the 
 name of " settlement." The only signs of civilization 
 
niE FUlt COUNTKI^l,. H 
 
 to be seen are the " forts/' or trading pofits, of the llud- 
 6on*s Bay Company ; and these " signs " are few and 
 far — hundreds of miles — between. For inhabitants 
 the country has less than ten thousand white men, the 
 employes of tha Company ; and its native people are 
 Indians of many tribes, living far apart, few in num- 
 bers, subsisting by the chase, and half starving for at 
 least a third part of every year 1 In truth, the terri- 
 tory can hardly be called " inhabited." There is not 
 a man to every ten miles ; and in many parts of it, 
 you may travel hundreds 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, ex- 
 tending nearly to the Mackenzie River. Its rocks are 
 primitive. It is a land of hills and valleys — of 
 deep, dark lakes and sharp-running streams. It is a 
 woodless region. No timber is found there that de- 
 serves the name. No trees but glandular dwarf 
 birches, willows, and black spruce, small and stunted. 
 Even these only grow in isolated valleys. More gen- 
 erally the surface is covered with coarse sand, — the 
 debris of granite or quartz rock, — upon which no 
 vegetable, 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 landlocked, yet do they 
 contain fish of several species. Sometimes these lak'M 
 
12 THE FUIl COI.NTRIES. 
 
 communicate with each other by means of rapid and 
 turbulent streams passing through narrow gojges 
 and lines of those connected lakes form the great riv 
 ers of the district. 
 
 Such is a large portion of the Hudson's Bay terri 
 tory. Most of the extensive peninsula of Labrador 
 partakes of a similar cliaracter ; 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 
 ruminating creatures find sustenance upon the mosses 
 and lichens that cover their cold rocks : they are the 
 caribou (reindeer) and the musk-ox. These, in theii 
 turn, become the food and subsistence of preyin|. 
 creatures. The wolf, in all its varieties of gray, black, 
 white, pied, and dusky, follows upon their trail. Tht 
 " brown bear " — a large species, nearly resemblhig 
 the " grizzly " — is found only in the Barren Grounds , 
 and the great " Polar bear" comes within their boi 
 ders, 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 zihethicus) builds 
 his house, like that of his larger cousin, the beaver 
 Upon the waters edge he finds subsistence ; but his 
 natural enemy, the wolverene ( Gulo luscus), skulks in 
 the same neighborhood. 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, 
 
THH FUR COUNTRIES. IS 
 
 does not grow in vain. The seeds fall to tLe earth, 
 but tLey are not suffered to decay. They are gathored 
 by the little lemmings and meadow-mice (arvicolce), 
 who, in their turn, become the prey of two species of 
 miLStelid(B, 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 ospray, 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 wretch- 
 ed creatures who find a living there are the Esqui- 
 maux 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 journeyings, that 
 numbers frequently perish by the way. There are 
 no white men in ihe Barren Grounds. The " Com- 
 pany" has no commerce there. No fort is estab- 
 lished in them ; so scarce are the fur-bearing animals 
 of these parts, their skins would not repay the ex 
 pense of a '* trading post." 
 
 Far different are the " wooded tracts " of the fui 
 countries. These lie mostly in the southern and cen- 
 tral 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 an^ 
 
14 THE FUK COUNTRIES. 
 
 highly-prized silver fox ( Vulpes argentatus)^ whv>s« 
 shining skin ssUs for its weight .in gold I There, too, 
 the black bear ( Ursus Americmius) 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 fur 
 countries. The great table prairies of North America, 
 that slope eastward from the Rocky Mountains, also 
 extend northward into the Hudson's Bay territory. 
 They gradually grow narrower, however, as you prO' 
 ceed 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 buffalo, the prong-homed antelope, and the 
 mule-deer. There, too, may be seen the " barking 
 wolf" and the " swift fox." It is the favorite 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 differ- 
 ent aspect — the region of tho Rocky Mountains. 
 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 
 wafers 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 Jie in itf 
 
THE FUK COUNTUI-IS. 15 
 
 embrace, many of which have never been visited by 
 man. Some are desolate and dreaiy ; others ar« 
 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 favorite home of many strange 
 animals. The argali, or mountain-sheep, with hid 
 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 hia 
 fiercer congener, the "grizzly," — the most dreaded of 
 all American ani'nals, — drags his huge body along 
 the rocky declivities. 
 
 Having crossed the mountains, the fur countries 
 extend westward to the Pacific. There you encoun- 
 ter barren plains, treeless and waterless ; rapid rivers, 
 that foam thi'ough deep, rock-bound channels ; and a 
 country altogether rougher in aspect, and more moun- 
 tainous, 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 f elides — the long-tailed cats — 
 here wander much farther north than upon the east- 
 ern side of the continent. Even so far north as the 
 forests of Oregon, these 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 
 
16 THB. FUR COUNTRIB**,. 
 
 from the frontiers of civilization to the shores of tht» 
 Arctic Sea. It is a long and perilous journey, boy 
 reader : but as we have made up our minds to it, let 
 us WM/^te no more time in talking, but set forth at 
 onc^ You are ready ? Hurrah I 
 
YOUNG VOIA-GEIIBS *7 
 
 CHAPTER n. 
 THE YOUNG VOYAGEURS 
 
 There is a canoe upon the waters of Red River— • 
 Red River of the north. Tt is near the source of the 
 stream, but passing downward. It is a small canoe, 
 a frail structure 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 develop*- 
 ment 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 expresses cour- 
 age, and his well-set jaws betoken firmness and reso- 
 lution. He does not belie his looks, for he possesses 
 these qualifications in a high degree. There is a 
 gravity in his manner somewhat rare in one so young ; 
 yet it is not the result of a morose disposition, but a 
 sabdued temperament, produced by modesty, good 
 sense, and much experience. Neither has it the air 
 of stupidity. No : you could easily tell that the mind 
 of this youth, if once roused, would exhibit both en- 
 ergy and alertness. His quiet manner has a far dif- 
 ferent expression. It is an air of coolness and conft 
 2 
 
18 THE TOfTNG VOYAGECKS. 
 
 dence which tells you he has met with dangera 
 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 dai\gers in the wild regions of the great 
 prairies. Their solitary mode of life begets this ex- 
 pression. They are often for months without the 
 company of a creature with whom they may con- 
 verse — months without beholding a human faceu 
 They live alone with Nature, surrounded by her ma- 
 jestic 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, 
 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 slain the bear and the buffalo, the wildcat 
 and the cougar. These experiences had made their 
 impression upon his mind, and stamped his counte- 
 nance with that air of gravity we have noticed. 
 
 The second of the youths whom we shall describe 
 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 contrary, 
 his form is thin and delicate. It is not the delicacy 
 of feebleness or ill health, but cnly a body of slighter 
 build. The manner in which he handles his oar 
 shows that he possesses both health and strength, 
 
THE YOUNG VOYAGEUSS. IS 
 
 th3ugh neither in sucli a high degree as the dark 
 youth. His face expresses, perhaps, a larger amouot 
 of intellect, and it is a countenance that would strike 
 you as more open and communicative. The eye is 
 blue and mild, and the brow is marked by the paleness 
 of study and habits of continued thought. These in- 
 dications are no more than just, for the fair-haired 
 youth is a student, and one of no ordinary attain- 
 mentSr Although only seventeen years of age, he is 
 already well versed in the natural sciences ; and 
 many a graduate of Oxford or Cambridge would but 
 ill compare with him. 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 y 
 would prove but an idle theorist, a dreamy imbecile 
 alongside our practical young scholar of the West. 
 
 The third and youngest of the party — taking 
 them as they sit from stem to bow — differs in many 
 respects from both those described. He has neither 
 the gravity of the first, nor yet the intellectuality 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 
 every thing. His lips are hardly ever at rest They 
 are either engaged in making words — for he talks 
 almost incessantly — or else contracting and expand- 
 ing with smiles and joyous laughter. His cq-p is 
 (antily set, and his fine brown curls, hanging against 
 the rich roseate skin of his cheeks, give to his coun- 
 tenance an expression of extreme health and boyish 
 beauty. His merry laugh and free air tell you he !9 
 
20 THE YOUNG VOTAGEURS. 
 
 not the boy for books. He is not much of a Luntef 
 either. In fact, he is not particularly given to any 
 thing — one of those easy natures who take th« 
 world as it comes, look upon the bright side of every 
 thing, without getting sufficiently interested to excel 
 in any thing. 
 
 These three youths were dressed nearly alike. The 
 oldest wore the costume, as near as may be, of a 
 backwoods hunter — a tunic-like hunting-shirt, of 
 dressed buckskin, leggings and moccasons of the same 
 material, and all — shirt, leggings, and moccasons — 
 handsomely braided and embroidered with stained 
 quills of the porcupine. The cape of the shirt wag 
 tastefully fringed, and so was the skirt, as well as the 
 seams of the moccasons. 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, cov- 
 ered with a violet-green skin that glittered splendidly 
 in the sun. It was from the head of the "wood- 
 duck " (AncLS sponsa), the most beautiful bird of its 
 tribe. By the other strap was suspended a large 
 crescent-shaped horn taken from the head of an Ope- 
 lousas bull, and carved with various ornamental de- 
 vices. Other smaller implements hung from the belts, 
 attached by leathern thongs: there was a picker, & 
 wiper, and a steel for striking fire with. A third belt 
 — a broad stout one of alligator leather — encircled 
 the youth's waist. To »-hIs was fastened a holster, 
 And the shining but of a pistol coulc be seen protrud* 
 
THE YOUNG VOTAGEURS. 21 
 
 ing out ; a hunting-knife of the kind denominated 
 "bowie" hanging over the left hip, completed his 
 " aims and accoutrements." 
 
 The second of the youths was dressed, as already 
 stated, in a somewhat similar manner, though his ac- 
 coutrements were no* of so wailike a character. Like 
 the other, he had a powder horn and pouch, but in- 
 stead of knife and pistol, a canvas 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 storehouse of the geologist, the 
 palaeontologist, and botanist — to be emptied for study 
 and examination by the night camp fii*e. Instead of 
 the 'coon-skin cap he wore a white felt hat with broad 
 leaf; and for leggings and moccasons he had trousers 
 of blue cottonade, and laced buskins of tanned 
 leather. 
 
 The youngest of the three was dressed and accou- 
 tred much like the eldest, except that his cap was of 
 blue cloth — somewhat after the fashion of the mili- 
 tary forage cap. All three wore shirts of colored 
 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 recognizing them. Even though they 
 were now two thousand miles from where 1 had for- 
 merly encountered them, I could not be mistaken as to 
 
22 THE YOUNG VOYAGEURS. 
 
 their identity. Beyond a doubt, they were the same 
 brave young adventurers whom I had met in the 
 swamps of Louisiana, and whose exploits I had wit- 
 nessed 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 ? 
 
 But whither go they now? They are full two 
 thousand miles from their home in Louisiana. Tlie 
 Red 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 alligator 
 and the gar. No, it is a stream of a far different 
 character, though also one of great magnitude. Upon 
 the banks of the former ripens the rice-plant, and the 
 eugar-cane waves its golden tassels high in the air. 
 There, too, flourishes the giant reed (Arundo ffigan- 
 tea), the fan palm (Ckamcerops), 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 (^cer saccharinum). There is 
 rice, too — vast fields of rice upon its marshy bor- 
 ders ; 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 winged creatures, and thou- 
 sands of human beings as well. Here for three 
 fourths of the year the sun is feeble, and the aspect 
 tliat of winter. For months the cold waters are 
 
THE YOUNG VOTAGEUR8. 23 
 
 kxitrntf ap in ail icy embrace. The earth is co^^ered 
 with thick snow, over whiv^h rise the needle-leafed 
 conifercR — 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 namesake of the North. 
 
 But whither go our Boy Hunters in their birch-bark 
 canoe ? The river upon which they are voyaging 
 runs due northward into the great lake Winnipeg. 
 They are floating with its current, and consequently 
 increasing the distance from their home. Whither jjo 
 they? 
 
 The answer leads us to some sad reflections. Our 
 loy 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 cliffs, 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 forest, on the unsheltered 
 prairie, along the white snow-wreath — any where — 
 with but a blanket or a buffalo robe for their bed ; 
 who had taught them to live on the simplest food, and 
 had miparted to one of them a knowledge of science, 
 of botany in particular, 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 with 
 
2i THE YOUI«G VOYAGEURS. 
 
 oist flint, steel, or detonating powder ; to discover theii 
 direction without a compass, from the rocks and the 
 trees and the signs of the heavens ; and in addition 
 to al], had taught them, as far as was then known, the 
 geography of that vast wilderness that stretches from 
 the Mississippi to the shores of tlie Pacific Ocean, 
 and northward to the icy borders of the Arctic Sea" — 
 he who liad taught tliem 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 yellow fever — and 
 to this dread pestilence he had fallen a victim. 
 
 Hugot, the ex-chasseur 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 yel- 
 low 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, Francois — « 
 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, 
 
THE YOUNG V DYAGEURS. 25 
 
 Strange as it may seem, a Scotchman — a Highlander 
 Avho had strayed to Corsica in early lii^, and had 
 there married the Colonel's sister. That uncle had 
 afterwards emigrated to Canada, and had become ex- 
 tensively engaged in the fur trade. He was now a 
 superintendent or " factor " of the Hudson's Bay Com- 
 pany, stationed at one of their most remote posts 
 near the shores of the Arctic Sea ! There is a ro- 
 mance 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 theii' birch-bark 
 canoe. By this time you will have divined the an- 
 rwer. 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 supposition is cor- 
 rect. To visit this Scotch uncle (they had not seen 
 him for years) was the object of their long, toilsome, 
 and perilous journey. After their father's death he 
 nad sent for them. He had heard of their exploits 
 upon the prairies, and, being himself of an adventur- 
 ous disposition, he was filled with admiration for his 
 young kinsmen, and desired very much to have them 
 come and live with him. Being now their guardian, 
 ke might command as much, but it needed not any ex- 
 ercise 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 familial 
 things, and they were no longer curious about then^ 
 
20 THE YOUNG VOYAGEUBS. 
 
 But there lemained a vast country which they longed 
 eagerly to explore. They longed to look upon iti 
 shining lakes and crystal rivers ; upon its snow-clad 
 hills and ice-bound streams ; upon its huge mamma' 
 lia — 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 cheer- 
 fully did they accept his invitation. Already 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 favorite 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 regions. Here the route is crossed and in- 
 tercepted by numerous rivers ; and lakes of all sizes, 
 with tracts of inundated marsh, succeed one another 
 continually. Such, in fact, are the highways of the 
 country, and the canoe the travelling carriage; so 
 tiiat a journey from one point of the Hudson's Bay 
 aerritory to another is often a canoe voyage of thou- 
 sands of miles — equal to a " trip " across the At* 
 lantic ! 
 
 Following the usual custom, therefore, our Boy 
 Hunters had become voyageurs — " Young Vot/a* 
 ^eursJ" They had navigated the St. Peter's in safety, 
 
THE YOUNG VOYAGEFRS. 27 
 
 almost to its head waters. These interlock with th€ 
 Bources of the Red River. By a " portage " of a fevr 
 miles they had crossed to the latter stream ; and, hav 
 ing launched their canoe upon its waters, were now 
 floating downwar(l and northward with its current. 
 But they had yet a long journey before them — near- 
 ly 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 per- 
 haps 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. Regard not the perils. 
 " From the nettle danger 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 ! 
 
 Stay ! We are to have another " compagnon du 
 voyage'* There is a fourth in the boat, a fourth 
 " young voyageur." Who is he ? In appearance he 
 is as old as Basil, full as tall, and not unlike him in 
 ** build." But he is altogether of a different color 
 He is fair-haired ; but his hair (unlike that of Lucien, 
 which is also light-colored) 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 bronze* J 
 
 / 
 
Sf8 THE YOUNG VOYAGEURS. 
 
 and rather eniiched the color. The eyes are dark Dluftj 
 a!id, strange to say, with black brows and lashes ! Thig 
 is not common, though sometimes observed ; and, in 
 the case of the youth we are describing, arose from a 
 differe-nce of complexion on the part of his parents. 
 He looked through the eyes of his mother, while m 
 other respects he was more like his father, who Tvaa 
 fair-haired and of a " fresh " color. 
 
 The youth himself might be termed handsome. 
 Perhaps he did not possess the youthful beauty oi 
 Francois, 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 addh 
 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 pro- 
 nounced 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 on their way 
 to visit, and the messenger who had been sent to 
 bring them. Such was the fourth of "the young 
 voyageurs." 
 
THE TOLNG VOYAGEUR8. 29 
 
 His dress was not unlike that worn by Basil ; but 
 AS he was seated on the bow, and acting as pilot, and 
 therefore more likely to feel the cold, he wore ovei 
 his hunting-shirt a Canadian capote of white woollen 
 cloth, with its hood hanging down upon his shoulders. 
 
 But there was still another "voyageur," an old 
 axiquaintance, 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 color — which was a tawny 
 red — you might have mistaken him for a panther — 
 a cougar. His long black muzzle and broad hanging 
 ears gave him quite a different aspect, however, and 
 declared him to be a hound. He was one — a blood- 
 hound, with the cross of a mastiff — a powerful ani- 
 mal. It was the dog * Marengo.' " You remember 
 Marengo ? 
 
 In the canoe there were other objects of interest. 
 There were blankets and buffalo robes : there was a 
 small canvas tent folded up ; there were bags of pro- 
 visions, and some cooking utensils ; there 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, 
 yei lightly did it float down the waters of the Red 
 River of the North. 
 
so THE TKUMPETEK SWAN AND 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE TRUMPETER SWAN AND THE BALD EAOLK. 
 
 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 swol- 
 len the river, and rendered its current more rapid 
 than usual. Our young voyageurs needed not there- 
 fore to ply their oars, except now and then to guide 
 the canoe ; for these little vessels have no rudder, 
 but are steered by the paddles. The skilful voyageurg 
 can shoot them to any point they please, simply by 
 their dexterous handling of the oars ; and Basil, Lu- 
 cien, and Franfois 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 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. This is the post of honor in a canoe ; and aa 
 he had more experience than any of them in this sort 
 of navigation, he was allowed habitually to occupy 
 lliis post. Lucien sat in the stern. He held in hia 
 
THK BALD EAGLE. 31 
 
 hands a book and pencil ; and as the canoe glided on« 
 ward, he was noting down his memoranda. The treea 
 upon the banks were in leaf — many of them in blos- 
 som — and as the little craft verged near the shore, 
 his keen eye followed the configuration of the leaves, 
 to discover any new species that might appear. There 
 is a rich vegetation upon the banks of the Red River ; 
 but the flora 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. Several species 
 of indigenous fruit trees were observed by Lucien, 
 among which were crab-apple, raspberry, strawberry, 
 and currant. There was also seen the fruit called by 
 the voyageurs " le poire," but which in English phrase- 
 ology is known as the " service-berry " (Amelanchier 
 avails). It grows ujwn 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 ani v/lxit^j, who preserv them by drying, 
 and cook them in various ways. There was still an- 
 other bush tha* fixed the attention of our young bota- 
 nist, as it appeared all along the banks, and was a 
 characteristic of the vegetation of the country. It 
 was not over eight feet in height, witli spreading 
 branches of a gray color. Its leaves were three inches 
 wide, and somewhat lobed like 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 
 ciunberry, having both the appearance and aci-id taste 
 »if tlie latter. Indeed, it is sometimes used as a sub- 
 
32 THE TRUMPETER SWAN AND 
 
 stitute for cranberries in the making of pies and tarti^ 
 and in naany 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 cor- 
 rupted by the fur-traders and voyageurs into " Pem- 
 bina ; " hence the name of a river which runs into the 
 Red, and also the name of the celebrated but unsuc- 
 cessful settlement of " Pembina," formed by Lord 
 Selkirk many years ago. Both took their names from 
 this berry, that grows in abundance in the neighbor 
 hood. The botanical appellation of this curious shrub 
 is Viburnum oxycoccos ; but there is another species 
 of the viburnum, which is also styled " oxycoccos." 
 Tlie 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 ; 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 compan- 
 ions as they floated along. Norman listened with 
 astonishment to his philosophic cousin, who, although 
 he had never been in this region before, knew more 
 of its plants and trees than he did himself. Basil 
 also was interested in the explanations given by hia 
 brother. On the contrary, Franpois, 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, eagerly watching for a 
 shot. Many species of water-fowl were upon the 
 
IHE BALD EAGLE. 88 
 
 tiver, for it was now late in the spring, and the wild 
 geese and ducka had all arrived, and were passing 
 northward upon their annual migration. During the 
 day Fran9ois had got several shots, and had " bagged " 
 three wild geese, all of different kinds, for there are 
 many species of wild geese in America. He had also 
 shot some ducks. But this did not satisfy him. There 
 was a bird upon the river that could not be ap- 
 proached. No matter how the canoe was manoeuvred, 
 this shy creature always took flight before Fran9oi& 
 could get within range. For days he had been en- 
 deavoring to kill one. Even upon the St. Peter's 
 many of them had been seen, sometimes in pairs, at 
 other times in small flocks of six or seven, but always 
 shy and wary. The very difficulty 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 Franjois, addressing Lu 
 cien, " bother your viburnums and your oxycocks 1 
 Tell us something about these swans. See ! there 
 goes another of them ! What a splendid fellow he 
 is ! I'd give something to have him within range of 
 buck-shot." 
 
 As Francois 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 large^st 
 kind — a " trumpeter " ( Gygnus buccinator). 
 
 It had been feeding in a sedge of the wild rice 
 {Zizania aqnatica), and no doubt the sight of the 
 canoe or the plash of the guiding oar had disturbed 
 3 
 
54 THE TRUMPETER SWAN AND 
 
 and given it the alarm. It shot out from the reedi 
 with head erect and wings slightly raised, offering to 
 the eyes of the voyageurs a spectacle of graceful and 
 majestic bearing, that, among the feathered race at 
 least, is quite inimitable. 
 
 A few strokes of its broad feet propelled it into he 
 open water near the middle of the stream, when, mak- 
 ing 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 without 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-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 tlie 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, until the neces- 
 sity arose for so doing ; and, as it was, he seemed to 
 be satisfied that that necessity had not yet arrived, 
 llie swim cost him much less muscular exertion than 
 flying would have done, and he judged that the ciir^ 
 rent, here very swift, would carry him out of reach 
 of bis pursuers 
 
TUE BALD EAGLE. 8A 
 
 It soon began to appear that he judged rightly » 
 «Uxd the voyageurs, to their chagrin, saw that, instead 
 of gaining upon him, as they had expected, every 
 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 
 only two to rely upon. He had the current in hia 
 favor — 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 
 Tery pith of the breeze on their double concave sur- 
 faces, and carried him through the water with the 
 velocity of an arrow. Do you think that he was not 
 ftware of this advantage when he started in the race ? 
 J )o 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, and 
 judge. Should it ever be your fortune to witness the 
 performance of those marvellous birds, exhibited by 
 the graceful Mdlle. Vandermeersch 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 ce^rtainly the swan, which our voyageurs were 
 pursuing, thought, and reasoned, and judged, and cal- 
 culated his distance, and resolved to keep on " the eveo 
 
56 THE TRUMPETER SWAN AND 
 
 tenor of his way," without putting himself to extra 
 trouble by beating the air with his wings, and lifting hu 
 heavy body, thirty pounds at least, up into the heav- 
 ens. His judgment proved sound ; for, in less than ten 
 minutes from the commencement of the chase, he had 
 gained a clear hundred yards upon his pursuers, and 
 continued to widen the distance. At intervals he 
 raised his beak higher than usual, and uttered his 
 loud booming note, which fell upon 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, or; 
 reaching this, would no longer have the wind in his 
 favor. This inspired them with fresh hopes. They 
 thought they would be able to overtake him after 
 passing the bend, and then, either get a shot at him, 
 or force him into the air. The latter was the moro 
 likely ; and, although it would be no great gratificiV" 
 tion to see him fly off, yet they had become so inter- 
 ested in this singular chase that they desired to termi- 
 nate it by putting the trumpeter to some trouble. 
 They bent, therefore, with fresh energy to their oars, 
 and pulled onward in the pursuit. First tlie swan, 
 and after him the canoe, swung round the bend, and 
 entered the new "reach" of the river. The voy- 
 ageurs at once perceived that the bird now swaro 
 more slowly. He no longer " carried sail," as the 
 wind was no longer in his favor. His wings lay 
 closely folded to his body, and he moved only by the 
 aid of his webbed feet and the cuiTcnt, which last 
 
THE BALI) EAGLE. J7 
 
 happened to be sluggish, as the river at this |Mrt 
 spread ov 3r a wide expanse of level laiid. The oaaoe 
 was evidently catching up, and each stroke was bnng* 
 ing the pursuers nearer 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 stood with their guns crossed and ready. 
 
 At this moment a shrill cry sounded over the water. 
 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 foiest 
 jf tall trees of the cotton-wood species {Populus 
 angusti folia). 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, 
 jhat it seemed as if some one of God's wild creatures 
 was mocking another. These cries were hideoua 
 enough to frighten any one not used to them. They 
 had not that efiect upon our voyageurs, who knew 
 their import. One and all of them were familiar with 
 the voice of the white-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 cnce 
 tshaiiged. Instead of rising into the air, as he had 
 
38 THE TRUMPETER SWAN AND 
 
 premeditated, he suddenly lowered his head, and di& 
 appeared 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 trumpeter had 
 gone down. The other, its mate, was seen crossing 
 at the same time from 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 lat- 
 ter, though passing with the velocity of an arrow, 
 plunged his talons in the water to no purpose. With. 
 a cry of disappointment the eagle mounted back into 
 the air, and commenced wheeling in circles over the 
 spot. It was now joined by its mate, and both kepi 
 round and round, watching for the reappearance of 
 their mtended victim. 
 
 Again the swan 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 indiffer- 
 ent diver ; but under such circumstances he was likely 
 to do his best at it. But what could it avail him ? He 
 muit soon rise to the surface to take breath — each 
 time at shorter intervals. He would soon become 
 fatigued and unable to dive with sufficient celerity, 
 and then his cruel enemies would be down upon him 
 with their terrible talons. Such is the usual result, 
 anless the swan takes to the air, which he sometimes 
 
THE BALD EAGLE. 39 
 
 does. In the present case lie had built his hopes 
 upon a different means of escape. He contemplated 
 being able to c onceal himself in a heavy sedge of bul- 
 rushes {Scirpus lacustris) that grew along the edge 
 of the river, and towards these he was evidently di- 
 recting his course under tlie water. At each emersion 
 he appeared some yards nearer them, until at length 
 he rose within a few feet of their margin, and diving 
 again was seen no more ! He had crept iji among 
 the sedge, and no doubt was lying with only his head, 
 or part of it, above the water, his body concealed by 
 the broad leaves of the n^mphce, while the head itself 
 could not be distinguished among the white flowers 
 that lay thickly along the surface. 
 
 The eagles now wheeled over the sedge, flapping 
 ihe 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 ap> 
 peared to notice for the first time — had floated near , 
 and, becoming aware of their own danger, both mount- 
 ed into the air again, and with a farewell scream flew 
 off, and alighted at some distance down the river. 
 
 "A swan for supper!" shouted Fran9ois, as he 
 jjoised his gun for the expected shot. 
 
 The canoe was headed for the bulrushes near the 
 point where the trumpeter had been last seen ; and a 
 few strokes of the paddies brought the little craft 
 with a whizzing sound among the sedge. But tte 
 culma of the rushes were so tall, and grew so closely 
 together, that the canoe -men, after entering, found to 
 
40 THE THUMPETEU SWAN AND 
 
 their chagrin they could not see six feet aromd lheia< 
 They dared not stand up, for this is exceedingly diin 
 gerous 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 
 of a water-dog by nature, but he had been trained 
 to almost svery kind of hunting, and his experience 
 among the swamps of Louisiana had long since re- 
 lieved him of all dread for the water. His mas- 
 ters, therefore, had no fear but that Marengo would 
 " put up " the trumpeter. 
 
 Marengo had been let loose a little too soon. Be- 
 fore 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 
 •ange of shot, and both prudently reserved their fire. 
 Marengo, having performed his part, swam back to the 
 anoe, and was lifted over the gunwale. 
 
 The swan, after clearing the sedge, rose almost ver- 
 tically into the air. These birds usually fly at a grea^ 
 elevation — sometimes entirely beyond the reach of 
 sight Unlike the wild geese and ducks, they neve; 
 
THE BALD EAGLE. 41 
 
 alight upon land, but always upon the bosom ol' tht 
 water. It was evidently the intention of this cne to 
 go far from the scene of his late dangers, perhaps to 
 the great lake Winnipeg itself. 
 
 After attaining a height of several hundred yards, 
 he flew forward in a horizontal course, and followed 
 the direction of the stream. His flight was now reg- 
 ular, and his trumpet-note could be heai'd 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 in- 
 stant two of these birds — those already introduced — 
 were seen mounting into the air. They did not fly 
 up vertically, as the swan had done, but in spiral 
 curves, wheeling and crossing each other as they as- 
 cended. They were making for a point that would 
 intersect the flight of the 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 — with a stiU 
 broader spread of wing, was a " light weight '* of only 
 seven. The result of this difference was soon appar* 
 ent. Before the trumpeter had got two hundred yard# 
 
42 THE TRUMPETER SWAN AND 
 
 higher, the female of the eagles was seen wheeling 
 around him on the same level. The swan was now 
 observed to double, t\y downward, and then upward 
 ftgain, while his mournful note echoed back to the 
 earth. But his efforts were in vain. After a series 
 of contortion? and mancEuvres, the eagle darted for- 
 ward, with a quick toss threw herself back-downward, 
 and, striking 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 car- 
 cass ashore. As soon as the male — who was lower 
 in the air — saw that his jnirtner had struck the bird, 
 he discontinued his upward ftight, and, poising him- 
 self on his spread tail, waited its descent. A single 
 instant was sulficient. The white object passed him 
 still fluttering ; but the moment it was 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 
 *.hat 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 seaich of the birds. They found the 
 swan quite dead, and lying upon its back as the eagles 
 
THE BALD EAGLE. 44 
 
 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 '' nat- 
 uralist " was requested by his companions to give tb<«a 
 an account of the '* swans of America." 
 
a THE SWANS OF AMERICA. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE SWANS OF AMERICA. 
 
 "Vert well, then," said Lucien, agrc/eing to tlifl 
 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 regions 
 within the Arctic circle, where civilized men do not 
 live, but little information has been collected 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, color, 
 voice, and habits. * White as a swan,' is a 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 color, for the black swan is a native of 
 that country. 
 
 " According to the naturalist Brehm, who has given 
 ouch attention to this subject, there are four distinct 
 species of swans in Europe. They are all white, 
 
THE SWANS OF AMERICA. 45 
 
 ihough 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 protuberance upon 
 the upper pai't of the bill. One of these Brehm terms 
 the * white-headed gibbous swan' {Gygnus 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 
 apon the ornamental lakes and ponds of England. 
 The other two European species Brehm has designat- 
 ed * singing swans,' as both of them utte.* a note that 
 «iay be heard to a considerable distance. 
 
 " The black swan of Australia ( C. niger) has been 
 \aaturalized in Europe, and breeds freely in England, 
 where, from its great size and peculiar markings, it is 
 one of the most ornamental of water-fowls. It is, 
 moreover, a great tyrant, and will not pennit other 
 birds to approach its haunt, but drives them off, strik- 
 ing tbem furiously with its strong broad wings. 
 
 *^ lintil a late period the swans of America were 
 lupposed to be all of one kind. This is not the case. 
 Theve are now known to be three distinct species in- 
 ilab^ting the fur countries, and migrating annually to 
 the South. That which is best known is the * whis- 
 tler,' or 'hooper' (C. Americanus), because it is the 
 epecies that abounds in the old States upon the Atlan- 
 tic, and was therefore more observed by naturalists. 
 It is believed to be identical with one of the European 
 
 * singing * swans (G. ferus), but this is not certain, 
 ftnd for my 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 
 blotches. 
 
^6 THE SWANS OF AMERICA. 
 
 " The * hooper ' is four and a half feet in length, 
 though there are males still larger, some of them 
 measuring five feet. Its color is white, except upon 
 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 there is a small 
 naked * cere,' of a bright yellow color. These swans, 
 li^.e others of the genus, do not care much for the salt 
 water. They are rarely seen upon the sea, except 
 near its shores, where they may find the aquatic plants 
 'ipon 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 the 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 favor- 
 ite food consists of the roots of aquatic plants, which 
 are often farinaceous. As these grow best in the shal- 
 low small lakes and along the margins of rivers, 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, they 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 
 homcj 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 an hour. When moulting, and 
 unable to rise into the air, it is no easy matter to 
 ^llow them even with a canoe. By means of their 
 
THE SWANS OF AMERICA. 47 
 
 broad feet and strong wings, they can flutter so qaiiJdy 
 over the water, now and then diving, that the huntei 
 cannot overtake them in his boat, but is obliged lo use 
 his gun in the pursuit. 
 
 " The * hoopers ' are migratory, — that is, tht;y pass 
 tc the North every spring, and southward again in the 
 autumn. Why they make these annual migrations, 
 remains one of the mysteries of nature. Some believe 
 they migrate to the North, because they there find 
 those desolate uninhabited regions where they can 
 bring forth their young in security. But this expla- 
 nation cannot be the true one, as there are also unin- 
 habited 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 love to dwell, dry up dur 
 ing the summer months: hence the necessity of a 
 migration to colder and moister regions. But thi« 
 would only hold good of the wading and water birds ; 
 it would not account for the migration of the many 
 other birds of passage. 
 
 " A better explar ation may be this : The north and 
 the cold zones are the natural habitat of most migra- 
 tory birds. It is there that they bring forth their 
 young, and there they are at home. In tropical re- 
 gions they are only sojourners for a season, forced 
 thither, some of them, by a cold which they do not 
 rehsh ; but others, such as the water fowl, by the frost; 
 which, binding up the lakes, rivers, and swamps, hin- 
 ders them from procuring their food. They are thus 
 compelled to make an annual migration to the oper 
 
48 THE SWANS OF AMERICA. 
 
 waters of the South, but as soon as the ice has given 
 way before the genial breath of spring, they all re- 
 turn rejoicing to their favorite home in the North, 
 when their season of love commences. 
 
 "The 'hoopers' follow this general law, and mi- 
 grate to the northward every spring. They breed 
 upon islets in the numerous lakes that stud the whole 
 noithern part of the American continent. Eminences 
 in swamps are also chosen for breeding places, and 
 the ends of promontories that jut out into the water. 
 The spot selected is always such that the swan, when 
 reated upon her nest, can have a view of the sur- 
 rounding 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 zibethi- 
 cus), is often selected by the swan for her nest. Thes« 
 curious little houses are usually in the midst of im 
 penetrable swamps : they are only occupied by their 
 builders during the winter ; and as they are 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 with such reeds and grass as may be found near 
 the spot. 
 
 "The hooper lays from six to eight eggs, and sits 
 «pon them for a period of six weeks, when the cyg- 
 nets come forth covered with a thick down of a bluish- 
 gray color. While sitting upon her eggs, the swan is 
 exceedingly watchful and shy. She ' faces ' towards 
 the point whence she most apprehends danger. When 
 the weather is severe, and the wind cold and keen, 
 ehe changes into that position which is most comfo^-i 
 
THE SWANS OP AMERICA. 49 
 
 able. If her nest be upon a promontory in&tead 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 the land she has not only man 
 to *look out* for, but the wolverene ( Gulo luscus), tho 
 lynx {Fclis Canadensis), foxes, and wolves. 
 
 " The Indians often snare the swan upon her nest 
 Of course the snare — a running noose made from the 
 intestines 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 always take the 
 precaution to wash their 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 'trumpeter* 
 ((7. buccinator) is given to it on account of its note, 
 which resembles the sound of a French horn, or trum- 
 pet, played at a distance. The bird is white, with 
 black bill and feet, and has also a reddish orange or 
 copper tinge upon the crown and 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 ])ody. Itg 
 habits, however, are very similar, exc-pt tiat it see»w 
 i 
 
50 THE SWANS OF AMERICA. 
 
 to be more gi'egarious, — small flocks of six or eighl 
 often appearing together, while the hooper is seen only 
 m pairs, and sometimes solitary. Another distinc- 
 tion 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 
 latitu le 61°, but most generally within the Arctic cir- 
 cle. Its nest is constructed similarly to those of the 
 hooper, but its eggs are much larger, one of them be- 
 ing a meal foi* a moderate eater, without bread or any 
 other addition. The trumpeter frequently arrives in 
 the North before the lakes or rivers are thawed. It 
 is then obliged to find sustenance at the rapids and 
 waterfalls, where the Indians can approach under 
 cover, and many are shot at such times by these peo- 
 ple. At all other times, as you, Fran9ois, have ob- 
 served, 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. 
 
 " 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 is 
 often obtained of the enormous weight of thirty J 
 
 " Bewick's swan is also said to be identical witb 
 one of Brehm's singing swans. Its color 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 
 luflSciently specific distinction. In the trumpet«i 
 
THE SWANS OF AMERICA. 51 
 
 tiese aixj twenty -four in number, in the hooper twen- 
 ty, 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. 
 
 " I have remarked," continued Lucien, " a singu- 
 larity 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 trumpeters 
 are by far the most numerous, while upon the east- 
 ern coasts of America the hoopers are the sort best 
 known. 
 
 " The swans are eagerly hunted, both by the Indiana 
 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. 
 
t)2 THE SWANS OP AMERICA. 
 
 " Now," said Lucien, in conclusion, " you know aa 
 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 m^ 
 lecture.** 
 
▲ 8WAN-HUNT BY TORCHLIGHT. bS 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 A SWAN-HUNT BY TORCHLIGHT. 
 
 A FEW days brought our travellers tc the settl©. 
 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 Franpois, as before, in vain 
 tried to get a shot at one. He was very desirous of 
 brmging down one of these noble birds, partly be- 
 cause 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 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 shooV 
 cvne 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 af 
 the swans?'' 
 
64 A SWAN-HUNT BY TORCHLIGHT. 
 
 " 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 Fran9ois held up 
 a very handsome clasp-knife that he carried in hia 
 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 knivee 
 are sold — such a thing is of very great value indeed ; 
 but the knife which Francois offered to his cousin was 
 a particularly fine one, and the latter had once ex- 
 pressed a wish to become the owner of it. He wtw 
 cot 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, ap- 
 pealing to Basil and Lucien; "sliall we have the 
 eport ? Say yes." 
 
 " O, I have no objection," said Lucien. 
 
 " Nor I," added Basil. " On the contrary, I should 
 like it above all tilings. 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 
 Bwan 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 nf 
 
A SWAN-HUNT BY TORCHLIGHT. 52 
 
 moon, and the sky is thick. Yes, it will be dark 
 enough." 
 
 " Is it necessary the night should be a dark one ? ' 
 asked Fran9oia 
 
 " The darker the belter," replied Nomian. " To 
 night, if I am not mistiiken, will be as black as 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 asliore, then, as quickly as 
 possible." 
 
 " O, certainly — let us land," replied all three 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 lifetle craft. The great'^s' precaution is always 
 observed both in landing and embarking these vessels. 
 The voyageurs first get out and wade to the shore, 
 one or two remaining to hold the canoe in its place. 
 The cargo, Avhatever it be, is then taken out and land- 
 ed ; and after that, the canoe itself is lifted out of the 
 water, and carried ashore, where it is set, bottom up- 
 ward, to dry. The birch-bark canoe is so frail a 
 structure, that were it brought rudely in contact either 
 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 dangerous, 
 also, to stand upright in it, as it is so " crank " that it 
 would easily turn over, and spill both canoe-men and 
 cargo into the water. The voyagLurs, therefore, when 
 once they have got in, remain seated during the whole 
 
56 A SWAJf-HUNT BY TOECHLIGHT. 
 
 passage, shifting about as little as they can help 
 When landed for the night, the canoe is always taken 
 out of the water 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 commencement of the day's 
 journey, it sits higher upon the water 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 de- 
 spatch 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. Lncien did the 
 cooking, while Norman, assisted by Basil and Fran- 
 cois, made his preparations for the hunt. Franfois, 
 who was more interested in the result than any of 
 them, watched every movement of his cousin. Noth- 
 ing escaped him. 
 
 Norman proceeded as follows : — 
 
 He walked off into the woods, accompanied by 
 Francois. After going about a 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 he " gir- 
 dled " tnis tree near the ground, and then higher up, 
 so that the length between the two " girdlings," or cir- 
 cular cuttings, was about four feet. He then made a 
 longitudmal incision by drawing th« point of his knife 
 from one circle to the other. This done, he inserted 
 
A SWAN-HUNT liY TORCHLIGHT. 61 
 
 the blade under the bark, and peeled it off, as h« 
 would have tak(in 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 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 leav- 
 ing *.t somewhat curved. The convex side, that which 
 had lain towards the tree, was now blackened with 
 pulverized charcoal, which Norman had dire<ited 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 up- 
 right 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 might be 
 ahead. 
 
 When all this had been arranged, Norman shoul- 
 dered the axe, and again walked off into the woods. 
 This time his object was to obtain a quantity of "knots" 
 of the pitch-pine (^Pinus rigida), which he knew 
 would most likely be found in such a situation. The 
 tree was soon discovered, and pointed out to Fran9oi8, 
 who accompanied him as before. Francois saw that 
 it was a tree of about fifty feet in heigh t, and a foot 
 in diameter at its base. Its bark was thick, very dark 
 
58 A SWAN-IIUNT BY TOKCULIGHT. 
 
 ill the color, and full of cracks or fissures. Its leaves 
 or " needles," were about three inches long, a id grew 
 in threes, each three forming a little bunch, bound 
 together at its base by a brownish sheath. ThesM 
 bunches, in botanical language, are termed " fasciles." 
 The cones were somewhat shorter than the leaves, 
 nearly of the sha])e of eggs, and clustered together in 
 threes and fours. Franyois noticed that the tree waa 
 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 con- 
 tains, it is the best species for firewood ; and for that 
 purpose it is used in all parts of the United States, 
 where it grows. Most of the pine wood sold for fuel 
 in the large cities of America is the wood of this 
 species. 
 
 Franyois supposed that his companion was about to 
 fell one of the trees. He was mistaken, however; 
 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. Pie was soon satis- 
 fied 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, per- 
 haps, by the wind. It was half decayed ; but Fran- 
 fcis could see that it was one of the same fpecies — 
 the pitch pine. 
 
 This was the very thing Norman wanted, and ply- 
 ing his axe, he soon knocked out a large quantity 
 of the resinous knots. These he at length collected, 
 and putting them into a bag, returned with Franyois 
 to the fire. He then announced that he had nc fur- 
 ther preparations to make. 
 
A SWAN-HUNT BY TOIICIILIGUT. 59 
 
 All four now sat down to supper, which cimsisted 
 of dry meat, with biscuits and coffee ; and, as their 
 appetites were sharpened hy theii* 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. Immediately 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 direc- 
 tion 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, having stowed every 
 thing snugly in the canoe, they sat chatting agreeably, 
 and waiting for the arrival of night. 
 
 Night came at length, and, as Norman had predict- 
 ed, it was as " dark as pitch." Stepping gently into 
 the canoe, and seating themselves in their respective 
 places, they pushed out and commenced floating down- 
 stream. Norman sat near the bow, in order to attend 
 to his torch of pine-knots. Francois was next to him, 
 holding his double-barrel, loaded with buck-shot, which 
 is the same size as that used for swans, and in Eng- 
 land is even known as " swan-shot." ^ 
 
 Next came Basil with his rifle. He sat near Fran 
 
00 A SWAN-HUNT ItY TORCHLIGHT. 
 
 9ois, just by the middle of tlie little vessel. Lucien. 
 who was altogether a man of peace principles, 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 his torch, which now cast its 
 red glare over the surface of the river, extending its 
 iSery radii even to the banks on both sides of the 
 stream. The trees that overhung the water seemed 
 tinged with vermilion, and the 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 bad 
 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 surface, without being 
 visible to those in the vessel — much less the great 
 white body of a trumpeter swan. Astem 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 light could possibly fall 
 upon the forms of those within the canoe. They were 
 therefore invisible to any creature from the front, while 
 they themselves could see every thing before them. 
 
A SWAN-HUNT BY TORCHLIGHT. 61 
 
 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 definite reply. He assured 
 his cousins that, if met with, the birds would be easily 
 approached in this manner ; he had often hunted them 
 BO. They would either keep their place, and remain 
 until the light came very near them, or they would 
 move towards it (as he had many times known them 
 to do), attracted by curiosity and the novelty of the 
 spectacle. He had hunted deer in the same manner ; 
 he had shot, he said, hundreds of these animals upon 
 the banks of rivers, where they 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 the woods 
 of Louisiana, where it is termed " fire-hunting." They 
 had killed several in this way. The creatures, as if 
 held by some fascination, would stand with head erect 
 looking at the torch carried by one of the party, while 
 the othei' took sight between their glancing eyes and 
 firsd the deadly bullet. Remembering this, they could 
 easily believe that the swans might act in a similai 
 manner. 
 
 It was not long until they were convinced of it by 
 
62 A SWAN-HUNT BY TORCHLIGHT. 
 
 actual experience. As the canoe rounded a bend it 
 the river, three largt white objects appeared in the 
 " reach " before them. A single glance satisfied all 
 that they were swans, though, in the deceptive glare 
 of the torch, they appeared even larger than swans. 
 Their long upright necks, however, convinced the 
 party they could be nothing else, and the canoe waa 
 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," mut« 
 tered Fran9ois to Basil, who sat nearest him. " If 
 80, 1 hope that's the song itself ; '* and Fran9ois laughed 
 quietly at the joke he had perpetrated. 
 
 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 ol fire : Basil was to shoot first, taking steady 
 
A SWAN-HUNT iST TORCHLIGHT. 63 
 
 aim with his rifle at any one of the birds ; while 
 Fraii9ois 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 
 without a struggle. The other two were rising into 
 the air, when " crack ! crack ! " went the two barrels 
 of Franyois' piece, and one of the swans fell 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 over- 
 taken, it struck so fiercely with its remaining wing, 
 that one of the blows inflicted a painful wound on the 
 wrist of Fran9ois. Both, however, were at length 
 got safely aboard, and proved to be a male and femalf 
 of the largest dimensioas. 
 
64 "CAST AWAT. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 "CAST AWAY." 
 
 Op course, the reports of the guns must hav€ 
 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 hunt- 
 ers 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 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 
 snot the last swan, as they were rounding a bend in 
 
•*CA81 A WAT.** 65 
 
 the river, a loud rushing sounded in their ears, similar 
 to that produced by a cascade or waterfall. On firnt 
 heai'ing it, they were startled and somewhat alarmed. 
 It might he 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 em- 
 ployes of the Hudson's Bay Company ; and Norman 
 had travelled it. 
 
 In thfe uncertainty th« canoe was brought to a stop, 
 and our voyageurs remained listening. The 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 conaiderable time, all came to the conclu- 
 uion 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 ap- 
 peared 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 ovef 
 5 
 
66 -CAST AWAf." 
 
 which the water had lately passed. The hunters now 
 rowed fearlessly forward, and ua a few moments came 
 opposite the debouchure of the tributary istream, when 
 a considerable 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 rapidly on, in a frothy current. They had en- 
 tered this current, and were now carried along with 
 increased velocity, so that the oarsmen suspended 
 operations, and drew their paddles within the canoe. 
 
 A flock of swans now drew their attention. It waa 
 the largest flock they had yet seen, numbering nearly 
 a score of these noble birds, — a sight, as Norman 
 informed them, that was exceedingly rare even in the 
 most favored 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, who managed 
 Llie stem oar, and guided the craft, also brought hia 
 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 wonder at 
 the torch. Whether they sounded 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 Noi*man fired first, and simultaneouBlj 
 
"CAST AWAY.** 67 
 
 but the loudtr detonations of Fran9(>is' double-barrel, 
 and even the tiny crack of Lucien's rifle, were heard 
 almost the instant after. Three of the birds wen* 
 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 ahead, but was thrown up-stream. 
 All in a downward direction was buried in deep dark- 
 ness. 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 thei/ were sweeping rapidly to its 
 brink ! 
 
 The voice of Norman was heard exclaiming, " Hold 
 with your oars ! — the rapids ! — the rapids ! " At 
 the same time he himself was seen rising up and 
 Btretching forward for an oar. All was now conster- 
 nation ; and the movements of the party naturally con- 
 sequent 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 
 ?tream ahead, and a horrid sight it was. Far as the 
 eye could see was a reach of foaming rapids. Dark 
 poijits of rocks, and huge black boulders, thicklj 
 
68 "CAST AWAY." 
 
 scattered in the channel, jutted above the surface ; and 
 around and against these, the water frothed and hissed 
 furiously. 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 dan- 
 gerous and terrible to the eyes of our voyageurs 
 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 light 
 crafl had got within the influence of the strong cur- 
 rent, 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 ve- 
 locity of 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 cur- 
 rent 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 thai 
 
"CAST AWAY. 69 
 
 the canoe was a wreck, and nothing remained but to 
 save themselves as they best might. Dropping thd 
 oar, and seizing his rifle, he called 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 
 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 secondi 
 ifier thej were extinguished, and all was daikness I 
 
70 A BRIDGE OF BUCKSKOT. 
 
 CHAPTER Vn. 
 A BRIDGE OF BUCKSKIN. 
 
 The canoe was lost, and all it had contained, oi 
 nearly all. The voyageurs had saved only their 
 guns, Inives, and the powder-horns and pouches, thai 
 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 utensilSj 
 bags of provisions, such as coffee, flour, ami dried 
 meat — were lost — irrecoverably lost. These had 
 either drifted off upon the surface, 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 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 eitlier of it 
 or its contents. Thick darkness enveloped them, ren- 
 derf'd more intense from tlie sudden extinction of the 
 
A BRIDGE OF BUCKSKIN. 71 
 
 worchlighl. They saw nothing but the foam flickering 
 along the ri^er, 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 melan- 
 choly wail. 
 
 For a long time they stood impressed with the lam- 
 entable 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 numerous and deep rivers. Impas- 
 sable swamps, and lakes with marshy shores, lay or. 
 the route, and barred the direct course, and all thii 
 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, there- 
 fore, 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 rap- 
 ids. Sharp, jagged points peeped out of the water, 
 and between these the current rushed with impetuosi- 
 ty. In the darkness no humaii 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 
 
72 A BRIDGE Cy BUCKSKIN. 
 
 where they were until the morning ; so, seating thenii 
 selves upon the rock, they prepared to pass the night 
 
 They sat huddled close together. They could not 
 be down — there was not room enough for that. They 
 kept awake most of the night, one or other of them, 
 overcome by fatigue, occasionally nodding over in a 
 sort of half-sleep, but awaking again after a few min- 
 utes* uncomfortable dreaming. They talked but little, 
 AS the noise of the rushing rapids rendered conversa- 
 tion painful. To be heard, they were under the ne- 
 cessity 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 ; 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 season, 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 cli- 
 mate of a coast country is much influenced by the 
 side upon which the ocean lies, whether east or west. 
 This in reality is the case, for you may ob=;erve on 
 your map thai the western ex)asts of both the "old 
 
A BRIDGE OF BUCKSKIIT. 78 
 
 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; 
 ijch as the direction of winds, and the different effecta 
 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. This 
 * rushing," it was supposed, made the wind. To some 
 extent this theory is true, but there are several othei 
 causes that operate in producing wind. Electri- 
 city — an agent hitherto but little known, but one 
 of the most important 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 
 unsatisfactory 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 theii 
 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 perse- 
 cute him who would elevate them, and worship him 
 
74 A BRIDGE Of BUCKSKIW. 
 
 who would sink them deeper m baseness and lond 
 age ; — when we reflect on this almost hopeless dark- 
 ness 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 in- 
 clination to yield themselves to the acquirement or 
 prosecution of scientific knowledge. "The wind^ 
 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 par 
 tially free. They still inherit, from customs and pre- 
 judices, the fruits of an ancestral Oppression, 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 wind- 
 ings, by Maury and other men of talent ; and if you 
 live twenty years longer (and I hope you may live 
 three times as many years), you will, no doubt, bo 
 able to tell " whence the wind cometh and whither it 
 goeth." 
 
 Well, we began this politico-scientific discussion by 
 observing that it is very cold in the latitude of Lak« 
 Winnipeg, even in late bpring. Only at night though • 
 the days are sometimes so hot there that you might 
 Smcy yourself in the tropics. These extremes ar« 
 ?haracteris*ac of the climate of all American conn 
 
A BRIDGE OF UUCKSKIN. 75 
 
 irifcs, 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 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 swim- 
 ming a river of that width would have been to any 
 of the four a mere bagatelle, they saw that it was not 
 to be so easy an affair. Had they been upon either 
 bank, they could have crossed to the other without 
 difficulty — as they would have chosen a place where 
 the water was comparatively 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 
 downward, 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 pas- 
 sage in that direction appeared the easier one. The 
 current was not so swift, nor yet did it seem so deep. 
 They thought they might ford it, and Basil made the 
 attempt ; but he soon got beyond his depth, and was 
 obliged, after being carried off his feet, to swim up 
 nnder the lee of the rock again. 
 
 From *he rock to the right bank was about i 
 
76 A BRIDGE OF BUCKSKIN. 
 
 hundred yards' distance. Here and there, at inegulai 
 intervals, sharp, jagged stones rose above the surfacej 
 some of them projecting three feet or more out of the 
 water, and looking very much like upright tomb- 
 stones. Lucien had noticed these, and expressed the 
 opinion that if they only had a rope, they might fling 
 it over 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 accoutrements; 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 sev- 
 eral men. They all set to thinking how this was to 
 be obtained. Each looked at the other, and scanned 
 the straps and thongs that were around their bodies. 
 They were satisfied at a glance that these would not 
 be sufficient 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 un 
 buckled their straps, and commenced pulling off* theii 
 buckskm hunting-shirts. The others said nothing, as 
 they knew well what they were going to do with 
 them — they knew they intended cutting them into 
 Btrips, and tl^.en twisting a rope out of them. 
 
A BRIDGE OF BUCKSKIN. 77 
 
 All four set to work together. Lucien and Fran' 
 fois htld the shirts taut, Avhile Basil and Noitnan 
 bandied 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 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 In^ 
 dian. He had practised it often, and had lassoed 
 many a long-horned bull upon the prairies of Ope- 
 lousas 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 companions had laid them- 
 selves flat, so as not to be in the way of the noose as 
 it circled about. After a few turns the rope was 
 launched forth, and a loud " hurrah ! " from Fran9oi8 
 announced that the throw was successful. It was so, 
 m fact, as the noose was seen settling smoothly over 
 the jutting stone, taking full hold upon it. A pull 
 from Basil fixed 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 project- 
 ing point rf the rock on which they stood, and knotted 
 
78 A BRIDGE OP BUCKSKIN. 
 
 firmly, so that the rope was quite taut, and stretched 
 in a nearly horizontal direction, about a foot aboTe 
 the surface of the water. 
 
 The voyageurs now prepared to cross over. Thei? 
 guns, pouches, 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 (inough 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 admirably, and sustained 
 the weight of his body, with the whole force of the 
 current acting upon it. Of course he was swept far 
 down, 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 ordi- 
 nary character, but as soon as he had reached the op- 
 posite end of the rope all three uttered a loud and 
 simultaneous cheer. Lucien passed over next, and 
 after him Fran9ois. Notwithstanding his danger, 
 Franpois laughed loudly all the time he was in the 
 water, while his brothers were not without some fears 
 for his safety. Marengo was next attached to the 
 fope, and pulled safely over. 
 
 Norman was the last to cross upon the buckskin 
 bridge; but, like the others, he landed in safety ; and 
 
A BRIDGE OF BUCKSKIN. 79 
 
 the h)ur, with the dog, now stood upon the little iso- 
 lated boulder, where there was just room enough to 
 give them all a footing. 
 
 A difficulty now presented itself, which they had 
 not hitherto thought of. Another reach of rapid cur- 
 rent was to be crossed, before they could safely trust 
 themselves to enter the water. This they knew be- 
 fore, 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 crosa 
 over again and untie it, but how was he to get back 
 to the others ? Here was a dilemma which had not 
 presented 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 suc- 
 ceeded in passing. There was no hope that they could 
 swim it in safety. They would certainly 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 consider- 
 ing 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 " Franfois' shirt still remains, and 
 our leggings — we can use them." 
 
 This was the mode suggested by Fran9ois and Nor- 
 1, and Lucien seemed tc assent to it. They had 
 
8t A BRIDGH'. OF BUCKSKIN. 
 
 aJready commenced untying their leggings, when BftsS 
 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 shaE 
 see presently." 
 
 As directed by Basil, they all cowered closely 
 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 blad- 
 der — 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 ofiered 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 mannei 
 that, by pulling by the other end, they might detacb 
 It Such were the calculations and hopes of Basil. 
 
▲ BRIDGE OP BUCKSKIN. 8i 
 
 A moment more and tbe crack of his lifle was 
 Jieard. At the same instant the dust rose up from the 
 point at which he had aimed, and several small frag- 
 ments flew off into the water. Again was heard 
 Fran9oi8' "hurrah," for Fran9ois, as well as the oth- 
 ers, 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 
 80 ^[ood a one as Basil, for that was no easy mattf»p 
 as there were few such marksmen to be found any 
 vhere, 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 deliberate 
 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, 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 Fran9cis 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 il 
 6 
 
M A. BRIDGE OF BUCKSKIir. 
 
 Betiled and held fast. The other end was tied m 
 betbre, and all passed safely to the new station. Here, 
 however, their labor ended. They found that from 
 this point to the shore the river was shallow, and 
 forduble ; and, leaving the rope where it was, aP four 
 took the water, and waded safely to the h«nk^ 
 
DECOTING THE "GOATS.* 88 
 
 CHAPTER Vni. 
 
 DECOYING THE "GOATJt 
 
 For the present, then, our voyageurs had escaped 
 They were safe upon the rivers bank ; but when we 
 consider the circumstances in which they were placed, 
 we shall perceive that they were far from being pleas- 
 ant ones. They were in the midst of a wilderness, 
 without either horse or boat to carry them out of it. 
 They had lost every thing 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 
 any thing was left to be cooked. For their future 
 subsistence they would have to depend upon their 
 guns, which, with their ammunition, they had fortu- 
 nately preserved. 
 
 After reaching the shore, their first thoughts were 
 about procuring something to eat. They had now 
 been a long time without food, and all four were hun- 
 gry enough. As if by one impulse, all cast their eyes 
 around, and looked upward among the branches of the 
 trees, to see if any animal could be discovered that 
 might serve them for a meal. Bird or qaadruped, 
 it mattered not, so that it was large enough to 
 
84 DECOYING THE *' GOATS /* 
 
 give the four a breakfast. But neither one nor ths 
 other was to be seen, although the woods around had 
 a promising appearance. The trees were large, and 
 as there was much underwood, consisting of berry 
 bushes and plants with edible roots, our voyageurs did 
 not doubt that there would be found game in abun- 
 dance. It was agreed, then, that Lucien and Fran- 
 Qois 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 
 recognized as an old acquaintance, — the prong- 
 homed antelope (Antilope fureifer), so called from 
 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 present time it is not found 
 farther east than the prairies extend, nor farther north 
 either, as it is not a creature that can bear extreme 
 cold. In early times, however — that is, nearly two 
 Ctnturies ago — it must have ranged nearly to the 
 Atlantic shores, as Father Hennepin, in his Travels, 
 speaks of " goats " being killed in the neighborhood 
 of Niagara, meaning no other than the prong-homed 
 antelopes. The true wild goat of America is a very 
 different animal, and is only found in the remote re 
 gions of the Rocky Mountains. 
 
DECOYING THE "GOATS. 85 
 
 What Norman had shot, then, was an anteiope^ 
 and the reason why it is called " cabree " by the voy- 
 ageurs, and " goat " by the fur-traders, is partly from 
 its color resembling that of the common goat, but 
 more from the fact, that along the upper part of ita 
 neck there is a standing mane, which does in truth 
 give it somewhat the appearance of the European 
 goal!:- Another point of resemblance lies in the fact, 
 that the " prong-horns " emit the same disagreeable 
 odoF; 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 ap- 
 pear spots of a blackish brown color. 
 
 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 usually hunt them in this 
 manner, by holding up some bright-colored flag, or 
 other curious object, which rarely fails to bring them 
 within shot; but Norman informed 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 indifferent eating. But the chief reason 
 why they take so little notice of it is, because it ia 
 found in the same range with the buffalo, the moose, 
 And th3 elk ; and, as all these animals are more val- 
 uable to the Indian hunter, he allows the antelope to 
 go unmolested, unless when he is hard pressed with 
 hunger, and none of the others are to be had. 
 
 Whil3 skinning the antelope for breakfast, Norman 
 aroused his companions by relating how he had killed 
 
8C DECOYING THE "GOATS.** 
 
 it. He said that he had got near enough to shoot i 
 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 ex- 
 tended no farther than about a mile from the banks of 
 the river, and that the whole country beyond waa 
 without timber, except in scattered clumps. This is, 
 in fact, true of the Red River country, particularly of 
 its western part, from 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 something else, as elk or deer ; for, like the 
 Indians, he did not much relish the " goat's " meat. 
 He was too hungry, however, 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 
 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 
 cu'cles, of wnich 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 compan 
 
DECOYING THE " GOATS.** 87 
 
 icns 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 Fran9ois had a fire kin- 
 dled — 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 butchering 
 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. Every thing looked pleasant and prom- 
 ising, 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 
 all 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 without 
 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 ths 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 ? 
 
88 DECOYING THE " GOATS " 
 
 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 ap* 
 pearing, their uneasiness increased to serious alai*m. 
 They at length resolved tc go in search of him. They 
 took different directions, so that there would be a bet- 
 ter chance of finding him. Norman struck out into 
 the woods, while Lucien and Fran9ois, followed by 
 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 nightfall, whether successful or not. 
 
 After several hours spent in traversing the woods 
 and openings, Norman came back. He had been un- 
 able to find any traces of their missing companion. 
 The others had got back before him. They heard hia 
 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 staid so 
 long, had not some accident happened to him. Per- 
 haps he was dead — killed by some wild animal — a 
 panther or a bear. Perhaps he had met with Indians, 
 who had carried him ofif, 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 repose, none 
 of them attempted to go to sleep. At intervals they 
 discussed the probability of his return, and then they 
 would remain silent. Nothing could be done thai 
 night. They could only await the morning light 
 
DECOYING THE "GOATS." 89 
 
 when they would renew tiieir dearch, and scour th« 
 country in every dheccion. 
 
 It was near midnight, and ihcy were sitting silentl} 
 around the lire, when Marengo started to his feet, and 
 uttered thiee or four loud barks. The echoes of these 
 had hardly died among the trets when a shrill whistle 
 was heard at some distance off in the woods. 
 
 *' Hurrah ! " shouted Fran9ois, leaping to his feet at 
 the instant ; " that's Basil's whistle, I'll be oound. I'd 
 know it a mile off. Hun ah ! " 
 
 i'ran9ois' " hurrah " rang througu th^ woods, and 
 the next moment came back a loua ' HiUoa ! " \phicb 
 all recognized as the voice of Baisil. 
 
 " 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 the 
 pine-knots. A shout of congratulation was again 
 raised ; and all the party, preceded by Marengo, 
 rushed out to meet the new-comer. They soon re- 
 turned, bringing Basil up to the fire, when it was seen 
 that he had not returned empty-handed. In one hand 
 he cai*ried a bag of grouse, or " prairie hens," while 
 ftom the muzzle of his shouldered rifle there hung 
 something that was at once recognized as a brace of 
 buffalo tongues. 
 
 " Voild 1 " cried Basil, flinging down the bag, " how 
 are you off for supper? And here," continued he, 
 pointing to the tongues, " here's u pair of titbits that'll 
 make you lick your lips. Come \ let us lose no tiin« 
 in the cooking, for I'm hungry enough to eat either of 
 them raw." 
 
%0 DECOYING THE "GOATS." 
 
 Basil's request was instantly complied with. The 
 fire wa3 raked up, spits were speedily procured, a 
 tongue and one of the grouse were roasted; and 
 although Lucien, Fran9ois, and Norman had ah*eady 
 supped on the " goat's meat," they set to upon the new 
 viands with fresh appetites. 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 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 savory supper, Basil Darrated 
 the details of his day's adventure. 
 
▲ "PARTRIDGE DANCE.** 91 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A «♦ PARTRIDGE DANCE." 
 
 ** After leaving here/* said Basil, " I struck otf 
 through the woods in a line that led from the river, in 
 a diagonal direction. I hadn't walked more than 
 three hundred yards, when I heard a drumming sound, 
 which I at first took to be thunder ; but, after listen- 
 ing 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 pei formances. 
 
 " There were, in all, about a score. They had se- 
 lected 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 circumference 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 lunnin^, 
 
02 A " PARTRIDGE DANCK. 
 
 and &v;uatted 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 per- 
 fonning what is called the * partridge dance ; ' and aa 
 I had never witnessed it, 1 held back a while, and 
 looked on. Even hungry as I was, and as I knew all 
 of you to be, so odd were the movements of thew 
 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 dis- 
 tance, would leap upon a rock that was there ; then, 
 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, ex- 
 hibiting 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 any thing 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 bettei 
 of me, and I made ready to fire. Those that wer 
 
A "PARTRIDGE DANCE. 93 
 
 dancing* moved so quickly round the ring that I 
 lould not sight one of them. If I had had a shoi 
 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 him, and sent my 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 oidy a couple of hundred yards off, upon a 
 ^ai'ge spruce tree. Hoping they would sit there until 
 I could get another shot, I loaded as quickly as possi- 
 ble, 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 neit moment I had ^grabbed' both of them, 
 and cooled their bellicose spirits 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 
 course, I shot the one upon the lowest branch: I 
 knew that, so long as I did this, the others wouli sit 
 
94 A "PAIITUIDGE DANCE.' 
 
 ontil 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 precious ammunition, and that, considering the 
 value of powder and shot to us just now, the birds 
 were hardly worth a load apiece : so I left off crack- 
 ing 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 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 ex- 
 amine 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 rop<\ 
 
A *' PARTRIDGE DANCE.* 9fl 
 
 considering that one bad 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. J 
 next packed my game into the bag, which they fiUec' 
 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 
 cloud of dust, and in the thick of it I could see two 
 great dark animals in motion. They were running 
 about, and now and then coming together with a sud- 
 den rush ; and every time they did so, I could hear a 
 loud thump, like the stroke of a sledge-hammer. 
 The sun was shining upon the yellow dust-cloud, and 
 the animals appeared from this circumstance to be of 
 immense size — much larger than they really were. 
 Had I not known what kind of creatures were before 
 me, I should have believed that the mammoths were 
 stiU 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, engaged in one of 
 their terrible battles." 
 
 Here Basil's narrative was interrupted by a singu- 
 lar 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 aU 
 alike : at one time they resembled the barking of a 
 cur dog ; at another, they might have been mis taker 
 
96 A " PARTRIDGE DANCE." 
 
 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 laugh would be heard, but a mis- 
 erable " haw-haw-haw ! " unlike the laugh of a sane 
 person. 
 
 All these strange voices were calculated to inspire 
 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 pro- 
 ceeded ; they knew they were the varying notes of 
 the great horned-owl (Strix Virginiana) ; and as they 
 had seen and heard 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 bendin>5 of his broad wing, seemed sufficient to 
 turn and carry him in any direction. 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 of 
 which they now had a full view of this singular crea- 
 ture. The moment it alighted, it commenced uttering 
 its hideous and unmusical cries, at the same time going 
 through such a variety of contortions, both with its 
 head and body, as to cause the WhoIq party a fit of 
 
A "PARTRIDGE DAXCE." 97 
 
 langhter. It was, in fact, an odd and interesting sighl 
 to witness its grotesque movements, as it turned first 
 5ts body, and then its head around, without moving 
 the shoulders, while its great honey-colored eyes glared 
 in the light of the 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 hun- 
 dred yards. 
 
 This was too much for Franpois' patience to bear, 
 and he immediately crept to his gun. He had got 
 hold of the piece, and cocked it ; but, just as he was 
 about to take 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 fallen 
 tree not six feet from the fire ! The owl, after clutch- 
 ing it, rose into the air ; and the next moment would 
 have been lost in darkness, but the crack of Fran9ois* 
 rifle put a sudden stop to its flight, and with the grouse 
 Btill 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 threw itself upon its back, and struck 
 at him with its talons so wickedly, 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 c(ntest it continually 
 snapped its bill, while its great gcggle eyes kept alter* 
 pately and quickly opening and closing, and the featb 
 7 
 
98 A « PARTRIDGE DANCE. 
 
 ers being erected all over its body, gave it tlic appear 
 ance of being twice its real size. Marengo at length 
 Bucceeded 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 
 continusd to worry and chew at it, while Basil w©at 
 on with his nairation. 
 
BASIL AND THE BISON-BULL. $9 
 
 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 a 
 them. They were worth a charge of powder and 
 lead, and I reflected that if I could kill but one of 
 them, it would insure 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 favor, 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 myself within good shooting 
 range. Neither of the bulls had noticed me. They 
 were too busy with 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 buffaloV 
 
I'OO BASIL AND THE BISON-BULL. 
 
 skull before that time. I remember having fired t 
 musket at one that stood fronting me not more thao 
 six feet distant, when, to my surprise, the bullet flat- 
 tened and fell to the ground before the nose of th« 
 buffalo ! The creature was not less astonished than 
 myself, as up to that time it had not 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 apjieared 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. 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 forehead, 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 be* 
 yond the spot, and now turned round again to renew 
 his attack. On seeing his antagonist stretched out 
 and motionless, he seemed to be as much astonished 
 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 presence, nor the 
 report of the rifle. The bellowing noise that both 
 were making had drowned the latter ; and the das^ 
 together with the long shaggy tufts that hung over his 
 eyes, had prevented him from seeing any thing more 
 than his rival, with whom he was engaged. Now thai 
 
BASIL AND THE BTSON-BXI*-!.- ^0* 
 
 ihe 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 
 moment 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 fan- 
 cied 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, thinking 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 bellows, came rushing to- 
 wards 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. Instead 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 m, 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 sec- 
 ond time. I knew that if he once touched me I waa 
 gone. His horns were set, and his eyes glared with 
 a terrible earnestness. I rushed towards the body of 
 the buffalo that lay near, hoping that this might assist 
 me in avoiding the onset. It did so, for, as he dashed 
 forward ever it, he became entangled among the limbs 
 
i 2 BASIL AND THE BISON-BCLL. 
 
 and again charged vrithout striking me. He turned 
 however, as quick as thought, and again rushed bel« 
 lowing upon me. There was a tree near at hand. I 
 had noticed it before, but I could not tell whether 1 
 should have time to reach it. I was now somewhal 
 nearer it, and, fearing that I might not be able tc 
 dodge the furious brute any longer upon the ground, 
 I sti'uck 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, 1 
 noticed that there were some low branches, and catch- 
 ing 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 com- 
 menced loading. I had no fear but that he would 
 give me an opportunity, for he kept round the tree, 
 ard 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 be- 
 gan 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 turning the 
 gur to put on a cap, when I recollected that the cap 
 box was still lying on the ground where it had fallen • 
 The sudden attack of the animal had prevented m« 
 fipom taking it up. My caps were all within that box 
 
BASIL AND THE BISON-BULL. 105 
 
 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 impossible. I dared not descend from 
 the tree. The infuriated bull still kept pacing under 
 it, now going round and round, and occasionally stop- 
 ping for a moment and looking angrily up. 
 
 " My situation was any thing but a pleasant one. 
 I began to fear that I might not be permitted to es» 
 cape at all. The bull seemed to be most pertinacious 
 in his vengeance. I could have shot him in the back, 
 or the neck, or where I liked, if I had only had one 
 cap. He 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 bul- 
 let-pouch, to get at my flint and steel, of course my 
 fingers came into contact with the lasso which was 
 stiU hanging around my shoulders. It was this that 
 suggested my plan, which was no other than to lasso 
 the bully and tie him to the tree ! 
 
 " I lost no time in carrying it into execution. I un- 
 coiled 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 offered. The bull still con* 
 tinned 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 the roose pass over the bison's head, and settli 
 
104 BASIL AND THE BISON BULL. 
 
 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 branch, and thus getting *a purchase 
 upon it, I pulled it with all my might. 
 
 " As soon as the bull felt the strange cravat arouna 
 his neck, he began to plunge and 'rout' with vio- 
 lence, 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 tighten- 
 ing on his throat was fast strangling him. But for 
 the thick matted hair it would 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 began to 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 as he could, 1 
 brought his struggles to a period by sending a bullet 
 through his ribs. 
 
 " As it was quite night when I had finished the 
 business, of course I could not stay to butcher the 
 buUs. I knew that you would be wondering what 
 kept me, so I cut out the tongues, and coming by the 
 place where I had left the grouse, brought them 
 along. I left a * scare- wolf ' over both the bulls, how- 
 ever, and I guess we'll find them all right in the 
 morning." 
 
 Basil having finished the narration of his day's ad 
 ventures, fresh fuel was heaped on the embers, and a 
 
BASIL AND THE BISON-IiULL. lOd 
 
 I age fire was built — one that would last until morn- 
 ing. This was necessary, as none of them liad now 
 either blankets or bedding. Basil himself and Nor- 
 man were even in liitir shirt-sleeves, and, of course, 
 their only chance for keeping warmth in their bodies 
 would be to keep up a roaring fire all the night. Thu 
 thav did, and all four, laying themselves dote together, 
 
THREE CURIOUS TREES. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THREE CURIOUS TREES. 
 
 Next morning they were awake at an eprly hour 
 There was still enough of the tongues and grouse left, 
 along with some ribs of the antelope, to breakfast 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 purpose the flesh was re- 
 moved from the bones, and after being cut into thin 
 slices and strips, was hung up on poles at some dis- 
 tance from the blaze. Nothing more could be done^ 
 but wait until it became sufiiciently parched by the 
 heat. 
 
 While this process was going on, our voyageura 
 collected around the fire, and entered into a consulta- 
 tion about what was best to be done. At 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 exten- 
 sive marshes on the route, and these would have to be 
 got I'ound, making the journey a very long one in- 
 deed. It would take them days to perform it on foot, 
 
THREE CURIOUS TREES. 107 
 
 Rnd nothing is more discouraging on a journey th.Hii to 
 be forced by some accident to what is called "taking 
 the back track." AH of them acknowledged this, bu* 
 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 
 Tlouse. How were they to reach that afoot '^ To 
 walk around the borders of the lake would be a dis- 
 tiuice 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. Cum- 
 berland House — another trading-post upon the River 
 Saskatchewan — was the next point where they had 
 intended to rest themselves, after leaving the Red 
 River settlements. 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, then, could they do ? 
 
 " Let us not go back," cried Franpois, ever ready 
 with a bold advice ; " let us make a boat, and keep 
 on, say I." 
 
 " Ha ! Franfois," 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 maka 
 a dug-out? We have still got the axe and tw« 
 hatchets left." 
 
 Norman asked what Fran9ois meant by a diig-oui 
 The phrase was new to him. 
 
108 THREE CURIOUS TREES. 
 
 " 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 well 
 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 
 sutiicient size. We are not among the great timber 
 of the Mississippi bottom, you must remember.'* 
 
 " lipw large a tree would it require ? " asked Nor- 
 man, 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 wen? 
 out this morning." 
 
 " Nor I," added Basil. 
 
 " I don't believe there's one," said Lucien. 
 
 " If we were in Louisiana," rejoined Fran9ois, " 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 kaew that, 
 as they proceeded northward, the trees would be found 
 decreasing in size until they would appear like gar- 
 den shrubbery. 
 
 " But come," continued he, " if we can't bu&a a 
 
THREE CURIOUS TKEE6. 10% 
 
 craft to carry us from one tree, perhaps we can do i< 
 out of three." 
 
 "With three!" echoed Franjois. "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 I'est of our voyage.'* 
 
 All three — Basil. Lucien, and Frangois — looiied 
 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 take us 
 some days to do it, and some time to find the timber, 
 but I am tolerably certain 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 Norman spoke, he pointed to two trees that 
 grew among many others not far from the spot. These 
 trees were of very different kinds, as was easily told 
 by their leaves and bark. The nearer and more con- 
 spicuous of them at once excited the curiosity of the 
 three Southerners. Lucien recognized it from its bo- 
 tanical description. Even Basil and Franpois, 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-bircb* 
 
110 THREE CURIOUS TREES. 
 
 (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; out 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 
 feelings of interest and curiosity. They saw that it 
 was about sixty feet high, and somewhat more than a 
 foot in diameter. Its leaves were nearly cordate, or 
 heart-shaped, and of a very dark-green color; but 
 that which rendered it most conspicuous among the 
 other trees of the forest, vras the shining white or 
 silver-colored bark that covered its trunk, and its nu- 
 merous 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 ar- 
 ticles of furniture. It has a close, shining gi*ain, and is 
 strong enough for ordinary implements ; but if ex- 
 posed 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 hatu^ which meana 
 oirch) has at least half-a-dozen other known repre- 
 sentatives in these parts. There is the " white-birch " 
 {B. popidifolia)^ a worthless tree of some twenty feet 
 
THREE CURIOrs TREES. Ill 
 
 in height, and less than six inches diameter. The 
 bark of this species is useless, and its wood, which ii 
 soft and white, is unfit even for fuel. It grow%, how- 
 ever, in the poorest soil. Next there is a specie? 
 called the "cherry-birch" {B, lenta), 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 aro- 
 matic odor. 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 
 color, and susceptible of a high polish. 
 
 The "yellow birch" is a tree of the same size, and 
 is so called from the color of its epidermis. It is 
 likewise used in cabinet-work, though it is not consid- 
 ered 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 sev- 
 enty feet high, with a trunk of nearly three feet diain» 
 eter. Its branches are long, slender, and pendulous ; 
 and it is from the twigs of this species that most of 
 the " birch-brooms " used in America are made. 
 
 Still another species of American birches is thfl 
 " dwarf birch " {Betula nana), so called ^rom its di- 
 
112 THREE CURIOUS TREES. 
 
 minutive 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 afterwards, 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 Goniferce, or cone-bearing 
 trees, as was evident 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 includeb 
 several genera. By the "pine tribe" is meant all 
 those trees known commonly by the names pine, 
 spruce, fir, and larch ; while the Cupressince, or cy 
 press tribe, are the cypress proper, the cedars, the 
 arbor- viiae, and the junipers. The yew tribe has fewer 
 genera or species ; but 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 
 tliroughout the North American Continent. The late 
 explorations on the western slope of the Eocky Moun- 
 tains, and in the countries bordering on the Pacific, 
 have brought to light a score of species hitherto un- 
 known to the botanist. Many of these are trees of 
 
THREE CURIOUS TREES. IIS 
 
 ft singular and valuable kind. Several species found 
 in the mountains of NortL Mexico, and throughout 
 those desert regions where hardly any other vegeta- 
 tion exists, have edible seeds upon which whole tribes 
 of Indians subsist for many months in the year. The 
 Spanish Americans call them pinon 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 pala- 
 table bread. This bread is often rendered more savory 
 by mixing the meal with drieti " prairie crickets," a 
 species c^ coleopterous insects — that is, insects with 
 a 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 this singular mixture equal to the " best 
 pound-cake." 
 
 The " Lambert pine," so called from the botanist 
 of that name, is found in Oregon and California, and 
 may be justly considered one of tlie 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 ! The wonderful 
 ** 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 I Then there is 
 the " red pine," of eighty feet high, much used for the 
 decks and masts of ships ; the " pitch-pine " {Pinm 
 rigida), a smaller tree, esteemed for its fuel, and fur- 
 nishing most of the firewood used in some of the 
 American cities. From this species the strong bum* 
 8 
 
114 THREE CURIOUS TREES. 
 
 big " knots " are obtained. There is the '^ white pine ' 
 {Pinus strobus), valuable for its timber. This is one 
 of the largest and best known of the pines. It often 
 attains a height of a hundred and fifty feet, and a 
 large proportion of those planks so well known to the 
 carpenter are sawed from its trunk. In the State of 
 New York alone no less than 700,000,000 feet of tim- 
 ber 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 
 beautiful " balsam fir," used as an ornamental ever- 
 green both in Europe and America, and from which is 
 obtained the well-known medicine — the " Canada bal- 
 sam." This tree, in favorable situations, attains the 
 height of sixty feet ; while upon the cold summits of 
 mountains it is often seen risingt only a few inches 
 from the surface. The " hemlock spruce " (P. Cana- 
 densis) 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 excellent quality. The 
 " black " or " double spruce " (P. nigra) is that spe- 
 cies from the twigs of which is extracted the essence 
 that gives its peculiar flavor to the well-known " sprues 
 beer" Besides these, at least a dozen new species 
 have latoly been discovered on the interior mountains 
 of Mexico — all of them more or less possessing val 
 uable properties. 
 
 The pines cannot be termed trees of the topics 
 
THREE CURIOUS TREES. llfi 
 
 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 mountains are covered 
 with pine-forests. But the pine is more especially the 
 tree of a northern sylva. As you approach the Arctic 
 circle, it becomes the characteristic tree. There it ap- 
 pears in extensive forests, lending their picturesque 
 Bhelter to the snowy desolation of the earth. One spe- 
 cies of pine is the 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 out 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 color. 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 green. When ripe, 
 however, they become rusty-brown, and are nearly 
 two 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. Fran9oi» asked the ques- 
 tion 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 i*., but not so well." 
 
 ** What other sort?" demanded Francois. 
 
116 THREE CURIOUS TREES. 
 
 " I want some cedar- wood," replied the other. 
 
 " Ah ! that's for the timbers," said Franpois ; " I am 
 fiure 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 considered 
 Ae best for that purpose." 
 
 " You think there are cedar-trees on the hills wa 
 saw this morning?" said Fran9ois, 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 
 neighborhood, we shall find them 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 set- 
 tled 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. Suppose we 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 reach- 
 ing these, the object of their search was at once dis- 
 covered. The tops of all the hills — dry, barren 
 ridges they were — were covered with a thick grove 
 of the red cedar {Juniperus virginiana). The treea 
 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 favorite haunt of 
 
THREE CURIOUS TREES. 117 
 
 many species of owls. Their beautiful reddish wood 
 was well known to all the party, as it is to almost 
 every one in the civilized world. Every body 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-lead is usually incased. In all part^ of Amer- 
 ica, where this tree grows in plenty, it is employed foi 
 posts and fence-rails, as it is one of the most durabl** 
 woods in existence. It is a great favorite 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 usually attains a height of about 
 thirty to forty feet, but in favorable 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." 
 
 ** 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 th< 
 
Cl8 THREE CURIOUS TREES. 
 
 different kinds of trees here, and much better ones 
 than those near the river. There," continued he, 
 pointing to a piece of moist ground in the valley, — 
 "there are some splendid birches, and there beside 
 them is plenty of the epinette " (so the voyage urs term 
 the white spruce). "It will save us many journeys 
 if we go back and bring our m^at 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 around, and rested their gims 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 yoTil 
 fire or spend the night is a " camp." 
 
HOW TO BUILD A BARK CANOE. IIS 
 
 CHAPTER Xn. 
 
 HOW TO BUILD A BARK CANOE. 
 
 Norman expected that they would be able to finish 
 flie 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 thick- 
 ness 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 
 Bide to side, while the space between the sides of the 
 others was gradually less in each fresh pair, according 
 as their position was to be near to the stem and stem. 
 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 lashhjg 
 should be removed, they would hold to the form thus 
 given thsm, and would be ready for fastening to the 
 keelson. 
 
120 HOW TO BtILD 
 
 While Norman was occupied with the timbers the 
 others were not idle. Basil had cut down several of 
 the largest and straightest birches, and Lucien era- 
 ployed himself in carefully removing the bark and 
 cleansing it of nodules and other inequalities. The 
 broad sheets were suspended by a smoke fire, so as 
 completely to dry up the sap, and render it tough and 
 elastic. Franpois 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 one of these little vessels water-tight 
 But that is not the only thing for which the epinette 
 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 the timbers. These threads are as 
 strong as the best cords of hemp, and are known 
 among the Indians by th^ name of " watap." In a 
 country, therefore, where hemp and flax cannot be 
 readily procured, the " watap " is of great value. Yoa 
 may say that deer are plenty, and that thongs of 
 buckskin would serve the same purpose. This, how- 
 ever, 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 
 
A BARK CANOE. 121 
 
 Iry, does not yield, and has therefore been found to be 
 the best tiling 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 
 Bomewhat like a pair of bows, and then placed with 
 tlieir convex sides towards each other, and firmly 
 lashed together at the ends. This was 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 con- 
 sidered sufficiently 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 longi- 
 tudinally 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 obtained complete, and, 
 with a few days' smoking and drying, would be ready 
 for putting together. 
 
 While waiting for the timbers to dry, paddles were 
 Baade, and Norman, with the help of the others, pre- 
 pared 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 the top, and graded with earth so as 
 to be quite level and free from inequalities* 
 
122 HOW TO BUILD 
 
 At length all the materials were consldc t^d quiu 
 ready for use, and Norman went to work to put them 
 together 
 
 His first" operation was to untie the bundle of tim- 
 bers, and separate them. They were found to havfl 
 taken the exact form into which they had been bent, 
 and the thongs, being no longer necessary to keep them 
 in place, were removed. The timbers themselves 
 w*Te next placed upon the bottom or keelson, 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. For- 
 tunately Lucien happened to have a pocket-knife, im 
 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 considera- 
 ble time to set all the ribs in their proper places, and 
 fasten them securely ; but he was ably assisted by 
 Fran9ois, who waited upon him with much diligence, 
 banding him now the awl, and then the watap, when- 
 ever he required them. 
 
 Norman's next operation was the laying of his keel- 
 son " 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 
 
A BARK CANOE. 123 
 
 Keighi 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, pro- 
 jected beyond the ribs at both ends. From each end 
 of the bottom plank, therefore, to the corresponding 
 end of the gunwale, a straight piece of wood was 
 stretched, and fastened. One of these pieces would 
 form the stem or cutwater, while the other would be- 
 come the stern of the craft. The long poles were 
 next laid longitudinally 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 oarallelogram, 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 lo the gunwale. The bark 
 itself was in such broad pieces that two of them 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 baik als4 
 
jr24 HOW TO BUILD 
 
 reached leverlyfrom stem to stern, and thus required 
 only on*' transverse seam on each side. There was 
 ftn advantage in this arrangement, for where the 
 birch-bftrk can only be obtained in small flakes, a great 
 number of seams is a nei^essary consequence, and then 
 it is <^xtremely difficult to keep the canoe from leaking. 
 Thanks to the fine birch-trees, that grew in abundance 
 around, our boat-builders had procured the very best 
 bprk. 
 
 The canoe was now completed all but the " paying," 
 and that would not take long to do. The gum of the 
 ^pinette 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 ; 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 pro- 
 nounced " watertight," and, as Fran9ois added, with a 
 laugh, " seaworthy." 
 
 A small pond was near, at the bottom of the hill : 
 Fran9ois espied it. 
 
 " Cqme, 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 floated like a cork. A loud 
 cheer was given, in which even Marengo joined ; and 
 a salute was then fired — a full broadside — from th« 
 
A BAKK CANOE. 12S 
 
 four guns. Franfois, to complete the thing, seized 
 one of the paddles, and leaping into the cance, shot 
 the little craft out upon the bosom of the pond, cheer- 
 ing all the while like one frantic. After amusing him- 
 Belf for some minutes, he paddled back to the shore, 
 when they all looked eagerly into the canoe, and per- 
 ceived 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 returned to their camp, to regale themselveg 
 with a grand dinner, which Lucien had cooked for th# 
 occasion. 
 
126 THE CHAIN OF LAKES. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE CHAIN OF LAKES. 
 
 Our young voyageurs now prepared to resume theii 
 journey. While Norman was engaged in building hil 
 canoe, with his assistant, Fran9ois, the others had not 
 been idle. Basil was, of course, the hunter of the 
 party ; and, in addition to the small game, such as 
 hares, geese, and grouse, he had killed three caribou, 
 of the large variety known as " woodland caribou.** 
 These are a species of the reindeer ( Cervus tarandus)^ 
 of which I have more to say hereafter. Lucien had 
 attended to the drying of their flesh ; and there was 
 enough of it still left, as our voyageurs believed, to sup- 
 ply their wants until they should reach Cumberland 
 House, where they would, of 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 — and these, with the skin of the ante- 
 lope, were sufficient to make a pair of hunting shirta 
 for Basil and Norman, who, it will be remembered, 
 had lost theirs by cutting them up. 
 
 Next morning the canoe was launched upon the 
 river — below the rapids — and the dried meat, with 
 their other matters, snugly stowed in the stem. Then 
 the young voyageurs got in, and, seating themselves 
 in their places, seized hold of the paddles. The next 
 
IHfe CHAIN OF LAKES. 1*^7 
 
 moment the canoe shot out into the stream ; and a 
 triumphant cheer from the crew aimounced ihat they 
 had recommenced their journey. They found to their 
 delight that the little vessel behaved admirably, — 
 shooting through the water like an arrow, and leak- 
 ing not water enough, as rran9ois expressed it, " to 
 drown a mosquito." They had all taken their seats 
 ill the order which had been agreed upon for the day. 
 Norman was " bowsman," and, of course, sat in the 
 bow. This, among the regular Canadian voyageurs, 
 is esteemed the post of honor, and the bowsman is 
 usually styled "Captain " by the rest of the 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 honor and importance ; 
 and both steersman and bowsman receive higher 
 wages than the other voyageurs, who pass ander the 
 name of" middlemen." The steersman sits ii the stem, 
 and that place was now occupied by Luciei , who had 
 proved himself an excellent steersman. Basil and 
 Fran9ois were, of course, the "middlemen," and 
 plied the paddles. This was the arrangement mado 
 for the day; but although on other days the pro- 
 gramme was to be changed, so as to relieve Basi) 
 and Fran9ois, on all occasions when there were rap- 
 ids or other difficulties to be encountered, they were 
 to return to this order. Norman, of course, under- 
 stood canoe navigation better than his Southern cous- 
 ins; and therefore, by universal assent, he was ac- 
 knowledged "tti3 Captain," and Franpois always 
 addressed him as such. Lucien's claim to the post 
 
128 THE CHAIN OF LAKES. 
 
 of second honor was admitted to be just, as he h&d 
 proved himself capable of filling it to the satisfaction 
 of all. Marengo had no post, but lay quietly upon 
 the buffalo skin between Lucien's legs, and listened 
 to the conversation without joining in it, or in any 
 way interfering in the working of the vessel. 
 
 In a few hours our voyageurs had passed through 
 the low" marshy country that lies around the niputh cf 
 the Red River, and the white expanse of the great 
 Lake Winnipeg opened before them, stretching north- 
 ward far beyond the range of their vision. Norman 
 knew the lake, having crossed it before, but its aspect 
 somewhat disappointed the Southern travellers. In- 
 stead of a vast, dark lake which they had expected to 
 see, they looked upon a whitish mud<iy»' sheet, that 
 presented but few attractive points to the eye, either 
 in the hue of its water, or the scenery of its shores. 
 These, so far as they could see them, were low, and 
 apparently marshy ; and this is, in fact, the character 
 of the southern shores of Winnipeg. On its east and 
 north, however, the country is of a different charac- 
 ter. There the geological formation is what is termed 
 primitive. The rocks consist of granite, sienite, gneiss, 
 &c. ; and, as is always the case where such rocks are 
 found, the country is hilly and rugged. On the west- 
 em shores a secondary formation exists. This is strat- 
 ified 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 lime* 
 Btone country, partly wDoded and partly prairie land. 
 
THE CHAIN OF LAKES. 129 
 
 running from that point for hundreds of miles up to 
 the very foot of the Rocky Mountains, where tht 
 primitive rocks again make their appearance in the 
 rugged peaks of that stupendous chain. Lake Winni- 
 peg is nearly three hundred miles in length, but it ii 
 very naiTow, — 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 re- 
 ceives many large rivers, as the Red, the Saskatche- 
 wan, 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 Hudson's Bay. There 
 is a belief among the hunters and voyageurs that this 
 lake has its'ti^es like the ocean. Such, however, is 
 not the case. There is at times a rise and overflow 
 of its waters, but it is not periodical, and is supposed 
 to be occasioned by strong winds forcing the waters 
 towards a particular shore. 
 
 Lake Winnipeg is remarkable, as being in the very 
 centre of the North American Continent, and may be 
 called the centre of the canoe navigation. From this 
 point it is possible to travel hy water 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 Considering that some of these distances are 
 upwards of three thousand miles, it will be perceived 
 that Lake Winnipeg holds a singular position upon 
 the continent. All the routes mentioned can be mad« 
 without any great " portage," and even a choice of 
 9 
 
130 THE CHAIN OF LAKES. 
 
 route is often to be had upon those difFtrent lines of 
 communication. 
 
 These were points of information communicated by 
 Norman as the canoe was paddled along the shore , 
 for Norman, although troubling himself but little about 
 the causes of things, possessed a good practical knowl- 
 edge of things as they actually were. He was toler 
 ably well acquainted with the routes, their portages, 
 and distances. Some of them he 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. He 
 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 differ- 
 ence. It was the naturalist Lucien who threw out 
 some hints on this part of the subject, and furthei 
 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 re- 
 markable " chain of lakes " that extends almost from 
 the Arctic Sea to the frontiers of Canada. The most 
 noted of these are Martin, Great Slave, Athabasca, 
 WoUaston, Deer, Lake Winnipeg, and the Lake of 
 the Woods. Lucien further informed his compan- 
 ions that where primitive rocks form the surface of 
 a country, that surface will be found to exhibil 
 
THE CHAIN OF LAKES. 131 
 
 great diversity of aspect. There will be immeroiia 
 lakes and swamps, rugged steep hills with deep valleys 
 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 compan* 
 ions, 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, usually 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 course 
 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 there- 
 fore wisely resolved not to risk such an accident, but 
 to " hug the shore," though it made their voyage 
 longer. Each night they would land at some conve- 
 nient place, kindle their fire, cook their supper, and 
 dry their canoe for the next day's journey. 
 
 According to this arrangement, a little before sun 
 
132 THE CHAIN OP LAKES. 
 
 set of the first day they came to land and made theil 
 camp. The canoe was unloaded, carefully lifted out 
 of the water, and then set bottom upward to drip 
 and dry. A fire was kindled, some of the dry meat 
 cooked, and all four sat down and began to eat, as onljf 
 hungry travellers can. 
 
WAPITI, WOLVES, AND WOLVERENE. 133 
 
 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 Fran9ois, 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 so as to 
 shade his eyes from the sun, and, after looking for a 
 BBCond or two in the direction indicated, replied to the 
 other's question by simply saying, — 
 
 « Wapiti." 
 
 " Fm no wiser than before I asked the question," 
 vaid Franjois. "Pray, enlighten me as to what a 
 wapiti may be ! " 
 
 " Why, red deer ; or elk, if you like." 
 
 " O, elk — now I understand you. I thought 
 they were elk, but they're so far off" I wasn't sure." 
 
134 WAPITI, WOLVES, 
 
 Lucien at this moment rose up, and looking through 
 a small telescope, which he carried, confirmed the 
 statement of the " captain," and pronounced it to b^ 
 a lierd of elk. 
 
 " Come, Luce," demanded Fran9ois, " tell us what 
 you know vif the elk. It will pass the time. Normjin 
 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 be- 
 fore long. They appear to be grazing this way. I 
 warrant you they'll come to the lake to drink before 
 uightfall." 
 
 " 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 Ihis. It is called in different districts, or by differ- 
 ent authors, elk^ round-homed elk, American elk, stag, 
 rea deer, gray moose, le hiche, wapiti, and wewaskish, 
 Nataralists have given not a few of their designations, 
 as Gervus Canadensis, C major, C. alces, C. strongy'' 
 lorerus, &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 Eu- 
 rope. Its name of ' gray moose ' is a hunter appella- 
 tion, to distinguish it from the real moose, which tlie 
 eame hunters know as the 'black moose.' 'Round- 
 homed elk ' is also a hunter name. ' Wewaskish,' or 
 
AND ^VOLVEIlENE. 135 
 
 • waskesse,' is an Indian name for the animal. * Stag ' 
 comes from the European deer, so called, because thi« 
 species somewhat resembles the stag; and 'red deer' 
 is a name used by the Hudson Bay traders. * L€ 
 biclie * is another synonyme of French authors. 
 
 " 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 be- 
 lieve 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 color 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 branching. They fall every year, but not untij 
 February or March, and then the new ones grow out 
 in a month or six weeks. During the summer the 
 horns remain soft and tender to the touch. They are 
 covered at this time with a soft membrane that looks 
 like grayish velvet, and they are then sai i to be ' in 
 
136 WAPITI, WOLVES, 
 
 the velvet/ There are ner\?es and blood-vessels run 
 ning through this membrane, and a blow upon tht 
 horns at this season gives great pain to the animal. 
 When the autumn arrives, the velvet peals 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 being 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 reindeer, 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 '^e 
 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 braying of an 
 ass, and are equally disagreeable to listen to. 
 
 " The wapiti travel about in small herds, rarely ex- 
 ceeding 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 as- 
 sailants; much more so than those of the common 
 deer. Hunters have sometimes escaped with diffi- 
 culty from their horns and hoofs, with the latter of 
 which they can inflict very severe blows. They are 
 hunted in the same way as other deer ; but the I:r 
 
AND WOLVERENE* 137 
 
 dians capture many of them in the water, when they 
 discover them crossing lakes or rivers. They are 
 excel] ent swimmers, and can make their way over the 
 arm of a lake or across the widest river. 
 
 " They feed upon grass, and sometimes on th« 
 young shoots of willows and poplar trees. They are 
 especially fond of a species of wild rose {Rosa bUm^ 
 da)f 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 settlements. 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 
 shores of the Pacific. It is not an animal of the trop- 
 ical countries, 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 favorite habitat, which is prop- 
 erly 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 distur]>8 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 
 
138 WAPITI, WOLVES, 
 
 the animals. There were only six in Ihe herd, wi4 
 even at the distance our voyageurs could tell that they 
 were all bucks, for it was the season when the does 
 secrete themselves in the \voods and thicket? to bring 
 forth their young. They were running to and fro 
 upon the prairie, and 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. 
 
 "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. 
 iTou, 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 two species there are many varieties, 
 which differ so much in color and other respects, that 
 some authors have classed them PS so many distinct 
 species, instead of considering them mere varieties. 
 Whether they may be species or not is still a question 
 among naturalists; but certain it is that two well- 
 defined species do exist, which differ in size, form, 
 color, and habits. These are the large or common 
 wolf ( Cams lupus), and the barking or prairie wolf 
 (Cams latrans). The first species is the American 
 representative of the common wolf of Europe ; and 
 
AND WOLVERKNE. 139 
 
 iiltliough an animal of similar nature and habits, it 
 differs very muoli from the latter in form and appear- 
 ance- It is, therefore, not the same^ as hitherto sup« 
 posed. This American wolf is found in greater or 
 lees 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 char- 
 acteristic names of blacky pied^ white^ dusky, and ^ay 
 wolves. Of these the gray 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 laolves. 
 
 These are a full third smaller than the common 
 kind. They are swifter, and go in larger packs 
 They bring forth their young in burrows on the open 
 plain, and not among the woods, like the 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 ma- 
 noeuvres often themselves decoy the over-curious an- 
 telope 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 ani- 
 mal — 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 tellf 
 
140 WAPITI, WOLVES 
 
 the Lunter whether it is worth his while to tollow th« 
 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 separated from the rest 
 Frequently they sustain a contest with the bulls, 
 when the latter are old or wounded, but on such occa 
 sions many of them get killed before the old bull be- 
 comes their prey. 
 
 They resemble the common gray wolf in color, but 
 there are varieties in this 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 specific and usual 
 name "barking- wolf" ((7. 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 Hud- 
 son's Bay Company. The fur is of about the same 
 quality with that of other wolves, and consists 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 stripped off after the manner of rab- 
 bits, and then turned inside out, or " cased," as it i^ 
 teimed. 
 
AND WOLVERENE. 141 
 
 So much for the Ganis latrans. 
 
 " Prairie wolves ! " 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 sometimes do try it that 
 way." 
 
 " There appears to be a large pack," answered Basil, 
 still looking through the glass ; " fifty at least. — 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 him- 
 self, and all four now leaped to their guns. The 
 wapiti wiis plainly coming towards them, and they 
 could now distinguish the wolves following upon hia 
 heels, strung out over the prairie like a pack of 
 hounds. When first started, the buck was a full half- 
 mile distant, but in less than a minute's time he came 
 breasting forward until the boys could see his spar- 
 kling 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 con- 
 tinued on in a direct line until he was within less than 
 a 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 mo- 
 inent hidden from view. The wolves — fifty of them 
 at least — had followed him up to this point ; and 9S 
 
142 WAPITI, WOLVES, 
 
 he entered the thicket several had been close upoD 
 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 I 
 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 acquaint- 
 ed 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 differ- 
 ent directions. In a couple of minutes they had 
 placed themselves at nearly equal distances around 
 the copse, and stood watching eagerly for the reap- 
 pearance 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. Wherever 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 bushea. 
 A shot was fired — it was the crack of Lucien's smal' 
 
AND WOLVERENE. H3 
 
 rifle — lint it had missed, for the buck was seen pass* 
 irtg 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 as- 
 tonishment on seeing that he carried another animal 
 upon his back / 
 
 The hunters could hardly believe their eyes, bul 
 there it was, sure enough, a brown shaggy mass, 1} ing 
 flat along the shoulders of the wapiti, and clutching it 
 with large spreading claws. Franyois 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 engaged 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 color, 
 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. Franyois and Basil were about to renew the 
 pursuit, but were prevented by Norman, who coun- 
 selled them to remain where they were. 
 
 " They won't go far," said he ; " let us watch them 
 R bit. See ! the buck takes the water ! " 
 
 The wapiti, on leaving the willows, had run straight 
 out in the first direction that offered, which happened 
 
144 WAPITI, WOLVES, 
 
 to be in a line [)arallel 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 
 hope^j, no doubt, that by this means he might rid him- 
 self of the terribla creature that was clinging to hia 
 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 fath- 
 oms in depth. Tlie buck did not hesitate, but sprang 
 outward and downwards. A heavy splash 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 sep- 
 arately. 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 opportunity with their rifles, and both 
 Basil and Norman sent their bullets into the wolver- 
 ene's back. Fran9ois also emptied his double-bar- 
 relled gun at the same object, and the shaggy brute 
 sank dead to the bottom of the lake. Strange to say, 
 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 
 Lim to go free ; but the prospect of fresh venison for 
 Buppcr overcame their commiseration, and the momenl 
 
AND WOLVERENE. 145 
 
 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 
 iiis rear, swam on, keeping almost in a direct line out 
 into the lake. It was evident to all that he v>'>uld not 
 Bwim a ^ross 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 sur- 
 prise of all, 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! He had come 
 upon a shoal, and, knowing the advantage of it, 
 3eemed determined to remain there. 
 
 Basil and Norman ran to the canoe, and in a few 
 minutes the little craft was launched, and shootmg 
 through the water. The buck now saw that it was 
 likely to be all up with him, and, instead of attempt- 
 ing 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 pad- 
 dles, 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 stem, he was towed back to the shore, 
 
 and carried into camp. What now surprised our 
 
 voyageurs was, their finding that the wapiti had been 
 
 10 
 
146 WAPITI, WOLVES, AND WOLVEKENE. 
 
 wounded before encountering either the wolves, wolvop* 
 ene, 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 toe, 
 Rs the 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 tlie wolves had assailed an animal, 
 that otherwise, from his ^reat 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 approached the thicket, and that accounted for 
 their strange behavior in the pursuit. These creatures 
 are as great cowards as they are tyrants, and theil 
 dread of a wolverene is equal to that with which they 
 themdelves often inspire the wounded deer. 
 
A. PAIR OP DEEP DIVERS. 147 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 A PAIR OF DEEP DIVERS. 
 
 The wapiti was carefully skinned, and the skin 
 Bpread out to dry. Since their mishap our voyageura 
 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- 
 cois 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 cold. 
 Indeed, they did suffer 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 Fax 
 West is to lie with their feet to the fire, while the head 
 is at the greatest distance from it. This is considered 
 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 get cold, no matter what state the 
 other parts be in, it is impossible to sleep with comfrrt 
 
148 A PAIR OF DEEP DIVERa. 
 
 Of course our young voyageurs followed the wel l-known 
 practice of the country, and lay with their fe€-t 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 wa- 
 piti, 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, 
 50 that the skin might be dried aind 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 resembles dry short-grained beef 
 more than venison. For this reason it is looked upon 
 by both Indians and white hunters as inferior to buffalo, 
 moose, caribou, or even the common deer. One pecu- 
 liarity of the flesh of this animal is, that the fat be- 
 comes 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 itselC 
 Rnd then washed, dried, scraped, and smoked — it be- 
 r'x)mes as soft and pliable as a kid glove, and will wasJr 
 
A PAIR OP DEEP DIVERS. 149 
 
 Rnd dry without stiffening like chamois leather. That 
 \a 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, becomes harsh and rigid, and requires 
 9 great deal of rubbing to render it soft again. 
 
 Lu?ien knew how to dress the elk-hide, and could 
 nuke 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 inter- 
 vals 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 Nor- 
 man occupied themselves in cutting the choice pieces 
 of the meat into thin slices and hanging them up be- 
 fore the fire. This job being finished, all sat down ta 
 watch Lucien currying his hide. 
 
 "Ho, boys!" cried Franjois, 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 forgot- 
 ten that. But the beast's gone to the bottom — how 
 can we get at him ? " 
 
 "Why, (Ish him up, to be sure," said Franjoia. 
 ** Lei's splice one of these willow-poles to my ramrod, 
 and I'll screw it into him, and draw him to tlie surface 
 In a jiffy. Come 1 " 
 
150 A PAIR OF DEEP DIVERS. 
 
 ** We must get the canoe round, then," said Nor 
 man. " The bank's too steep for us to reacli him with* 
 out it." 
 
 " Of course," assented Fran9ois, 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 wolverene. 
 All of them followed him as well as Marengo, who 
 bounded triumphantly from side to side, knowing he 
 was wanted for some important enterprise. 
 
 " Do you expect the dog to fetch him out ? '* in- 
 quired Norman. 
 
 " No," replied 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 shirt 
 then his under-shirt of fawn skin, and lastly his trou- 
 sers, leggings, and moccasons. He was now as naked 
 as Adam. 
 
 " I'll 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 moir' 
 
 The dog answered with a whimper, and a look of 
 
A PAIR OF DEEP DIVEiRS. 151 
 
 intelligence which showed that he understood his mas- 
 ter'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, spimng after so quick- 
 ly 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 lorg time 
 before Basil came to the surface — so long that Nor- 
 man and the others were beginnmg to feel uneasy, 
 and to regard the water with some anxiety. 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 waa 
 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, call- 
 ing 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 wolverene, which 
 was speedily pulled out upon the bank, and carried, 
 or rather dragged, by Norman and Francois to the 
 ;amp. Lucien brought Basil's clothes, and all ibul 
 >nce more assembled around the blazing fire. 
 
 There is not a more hideous-looking animal in 
 America than the wolverene. His thick body and 
 ihort., stout legs, his shasfgy coat aad bushy tail, bui 
 
152 A PAIR OF DEEP DIVERS. 
 
 above all. his long curving claws and dog-like jaw^ 
 give liiir. a formidable appearance. His gait is lo^f 
 and skulking, and his look bold and vicious. He 
 walks somewhat like a bear, and his tracks are often 
 mistaken for those of that animal. Indians and hunt- 
 ers, however, know the duference well. His hind feet 
 are plantigrade, that is, they rest upon the ground 
 from heel to toe ; and liis back curves like the seg- 
 cient of a circle. He is fierce and extremely vora- 
 cious — 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 seize most of them by stratagem. It is a com- 
 mon 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 hunt- 
 ing 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 order to relieve 
 himself and get ready for a fresh meal. Buffon and 
 others have given credence to these tales, upon the 
 Authority of one " Olaus Magnus," whose name, fron? 
 the circumstance, might be translated " great fibb«r 
 
A PAIR OF DEEP DIVERS 153 
 
 There is no doubt, however, that the glutton is one 
 of the most sajjjacious of animals, and so, too, is the 
 woherene. Tiie latter gives proof of this hy 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 fff'ty miles. These 
 traps are constructed out of pieces of wood found near 
 the spot, and are baited with the heads of partridges, 
 or pieces of venison, of which the marten (3Iustela 
 martes) is very fond. As soon as the marten seizes 
 the bait, a trigger is touched, and a heavy piece of 
 wood, falling u[)on 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 thus 
 avoids the falling log ! Moreover, he will follow the 
 tracks of the trapper from one to another, until he has 
 destroyed the whole line. Should a marten happen 
 to have been before him, and got caught in the trap, 
 he rarely 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 tlie snow. The foxes, who 
 are well aware of this habit, and who themselves 
 greedily eat the marten, are frequently seen following 
 him upon such excursions. 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 
 18 the true story. Notwithstanding, the wolverene 
 will eat them, too, whenever he can get his clawi 
 
l04 A PAIR OF DEEP DIVERS. 
 
 upon them; but as they are much swifter than he, 
 this seldom happens. The foxes, however, are them- 
 Strives 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 burrow, widens 
 it with his strong claws, and eats the whole family in 
 their nests. Even young 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 
 favorite 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 
 eiiuble him to overcome almost every Avild creature 
 of the forest or prairie. He is even said to be a full 
 match for eitlter 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 ^f the forest and the prairie. He is 
 found in fertile districts, as well as in the most remote 
 deserts. Plis range is extensive, but he is properly a 
 danizen of the cold and snowy regions. In the south- 
 ern parts of the United States he is no longer known, 
 though it is certain that he once lived there when 
 those countries were inhabited by the beaver. North 
 of latitude 40° he ranges perhaps to the pole itself, af 
 
A PAIR OF DEEP DIVERS. 1 5«I 
 
 traces of hinv nave been found as far as man has jet 
 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 color, and only when full- 
 grown acquire that dark-brown hue, which in the ex- 
 treme 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 an- 
 nually. 
 
 The Canadian voyageurs call the wolverene " car- 
 cajou ; " while among the Orkney and Scotch ser- 
 vants of the Hudson's Bay Company he is oftener 
 known as the " quickhatch." It is supposed 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 Avords 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 Lu- 
 cien, while Norman furnished the information about 
 its habits. Norman knew the animal as one of the 
 most common in the " trade ; " and in addition to 
 what we have recorded, aiso related many adventurea 
 and stories current among the voyageurs, in which 
 this creature figures in quite as fanciful a manner, ai 
 he does in the works either of Olaus Magnus, oi 
 CJount de Buffoa 
 
156 A GRAND SUNDAY DINNER. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 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. Some- 
 times the wind blew " dead ahead," and then their 
 day's journey would be only a few miles. When the 
 wind was favorable 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, for 
 our young voyageurs were Christians. They had 
 done so on their former expedition across the south- 
 ern prairies, and they had found the practice to their 
 advantage in a physical as well as a moral sea'?e. 
 They required the rest thus obtained; besides, a 
 general cleaning up is necessary, at least once every 
 week. Sunday was also a day of feasting with them. 
 They had more time tti devote to culinary opera 
 
A Glt4ND SUNDAY DINNER. 157 
 
 ionc<, and the cuisine of that day was always the most 
 varied of the week. Any extra delicacy obtained by 
 the rifle on previous days, was usually reserved foi 
 the Sunday's dinner. 
 
 On the first Sunday after entering Lake Winnipeg 
 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 flit over its 
 waters. But as the island in question lay 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. There were 
 upon it, down by the water's edge, willows and cotton- 
 woods (Populus anffulata), the characteristic sylva of 
 the prairie land ; there were birches and sugar-maplea 
 (Acer saccharinum) ; and upon some higher ground, 
 near the centre, appeared several species that be- 
 longed more to the primitive formations that bounded 
 the lake on 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 
 oxycocccs). There is, in fact, no part of the world 
 where a greater variety of wild fruit has been found 
 
158 A GRAND SUNDAY DINNER. 
 
 indigenous than upon the banks of the Red River cf 
 the North, and this variety extended to the little isl- 
 and where our voyageurs had encamped. 
 
 The camp had been placed under a beautiful tret 
 — the tacamahac, or balsam poplar (Populus balsami' 
 /era). This is one of the finest trees of America, and 
 one of those that extend farthest north into the cold 
 countries. In favorable situations it 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 color, which changes to a 
 bright green. The buds are very large, yellow, and 
 covered with a varnish, which exhales a delightful fra- 
 grance, 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 odor of the balsam-tree, 
 filled the air with a sweet perfume, and, almost with 
 out knowing why, our voyageurs felt a sense of pleas- 
 ure 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-bille<J 
 woodpecker was heard near the centre of the island 
 An ospray was circling in the air, with his eye bent on 
 rtie water below, watching for his finny prey ; and a 
 
A GRAND STTNDAY DINNER. 1 f;9 
 
 pair of bald eagles {Halimtiis leucocephalus) were 
 winging their way towards the adjacent mainland. 
 Half-a-dozen turkey vultures {Oatha^^tes atratus) were 
 wheelirg above the beach, where some object, fish oi 
 carrion, had been thrown up by the waves. 
 
 For some time the party remained silent, each con- 
 templating the scene with feelings of pleasure. Fran- 
 9ois, as usual, first broke the silence. 
 
 " I say, cook, what's for dinner to-morrow ? " 
 
 It was to Lucien this speech was addressed. He 
 ^as 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, in- 
 deed ! a pretty boil we could have in a tin cup, hold- 
 ing less than a pint. I wish we could have a boiled 
 joint and a bowl of soup. I'd give something for it. 
 I'm precious 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." 
 
 Again Francois laughed incredulously. 
 
 " 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 Franjois, " 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 conjurer. I know you can do some curious things 
 with your rhemical mixtures ; but that you can't d^ 
 
ICO A GRAND SUNDAY DINNP:K. 
 
 I'm sure. Wlij, man, the bottom would be baraed 
 out of your bucket before the water got llood-warm. 
 Soup, indeed ! " 
 
 "Never mind, Frank, you shall see. You're only 
 like the rest of mankind — incredulous about every 
 thing 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 regular courses 
 — soup, fish, boiled, roast, and dessert, too ! I'm sat- 
 isfied I can do all that." 
 
 " Parbleu I brother, you should have been cook to 
 Lucullus. Well, I'll catch the fish for you." 
 
 So saying, Fran9ois took a fish-hook and line out 
 of his pouch, and fixing a large grasshopper upon the 
 hook, stepped forward to the edge of the water, and 
 cast it in. The float was soon seen to bob and then 
 eink^ and Franpois 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 tc 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 Fran9ois. 
 
 " I am pretty sure of that," answered the naturalist ; 
 ** 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." 
 
A GRAND SUNDAY DINNER. 161 
 
 Franpois followed the advice of his brother, and in 
 % 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 sturgeon, but of a 
 species he had not before seen. It was the Acipenser 
 carbonarittSy a curious sort of fish found in these waters 
 It did not look like a fish that would be pleasant 
 earing therefore Franpois again took to bobbing for 
 the silver fish (jHj/odons), 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 labor without contributing 
 my share." 
 
 So the young trader took up his gun and went off in 
 u different direction. 
 
 " Good ! " exclaimed Lucien, " we are likely to have 
 plenty of meat for the dinner. I must see about the 
 vegetables ; " and taking with him his new-made 
 vessel, Lucien sauntered off along the shore of the 
 islet. Franfois alone remained by the camp, and con- 
 tinued his fishing. Let us follow the plant-hunter, 
 jmd learn a lesson of practical botany. 
 
 Lucien had not gone far, when he came to what ap- 
 peared to be a mere sedge growing in the water. The 
 stalks or culms of this sedge were full eight feet higb^ 
 with smooth leaves, an inch broad, nearly a yard in 
 length, and of a light green color. At the top of each 
 italk was a large panicle of seeds, somewhat resem«« 
 11 
 
162 A >RAND SUNDAY DINNER. 
 
 hling a head of oats. The plant itself ,/as the famoui 
 wild rice {Zizania aquatica), so much prized by the 
 Indians as an article of food, and also the favorite of 
 many Tvdld birds, especially the reed-bird or rice-bunt- 
 ing. 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 off into his vessel as much as he wanted. 
 
 " I am safe for rice-soup, at all events," soliloquized 
 he, " but I think I can do still better ; " and he con- 
 tinued on around the shore, and shortly after struck 
 into some heavy timber that grew in a damp, rich soil. 
 He had walked about a 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 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, tliey shrivel or die off very early in the season, — 
 t^.wQu before the plant flowers, and then it is diflScult to 
 find the bulb. 
 
 Lucien, however, had sharp eyes for such things ; 
 and in a short while he had rooted out several bulba 
 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 ric€ 
 
A GRAND SUNDAY DINNER. 163 
 
 to give consistency to his soup, and the leek -loots tc 
 flavor it with. That would be enough. 
 
 As he was 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 con- 
 spicuous white flowers. Its leaves were large, lobed^ 
 and toothed, and the stem itself was over an inch in 
 diaKieter, with furrows running longitudinally. Lucien 
 had never seen the plant before, although he had often 
 heard accounts of it, and he at once recognized it from 
 its botanical description. It was the celebrated " cow 
 parsnip" (Ileracleum lanatum). Its stem was jointed 
 and hollow, and Lucien had heard that the Indians 
 called it in their language " flute-stem," as ifiey often 
 used it to make their rude musical instruments 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 Luci^" standing by the plant, uttered a 
 joyful « HuUoh ! " 
 
 "Well," inquired Lucien, " what pleases yo^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 arc belter. 
 Both Indians and voyageurs eat them in soup, and are 
 fond of them. It's a famous thing, I assure you." 
 
 " Let ns gather some, then," said Lucien ; and 
 
164 A GKAND SUNDAY DTNXER. 
 
 the cousins commeneed cutting off such stems aa 
 were still young and tender. As soon as thej had 
 obtained enough, tliey took their way back to th« 
 camp. Basil had already arrived with a fine prairie 
 hen {Tetrao cupido) which he had shot, and Sandy 
 had brought back a squirrel ; so that, with Fran9ois* 
 fish, of which a sufficient 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, in- 
 deed, Basil was unable to guess. Norman, however, 
 knew well enough, for he had travelled through the 
 country of the Assinoboil Indians, 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 
 Basil and Franpois. Lucien first collected a number 
 of stones — about as large as paving-stones. He chose 
 such as were hard and smooth. T^'^jse 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 ingredients 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 ofoked in a similar way. The fish were 
 
A GKANn SUNDAY DINNER. 165 
 
 trolled upon the red cinders, and eaten, as is usual, 
 after the soup. There were no puddings or pies, 
 though, no doubt, Lucien could have made such had 
 they been wanted. In their place there was an ex- 
 cellent service of fruit. There were strawberries and 
 raspberries, one sort of which, found wild in this 
 region, is of a most delicious flavor. There were 
 gooseberries and currants ; but the most delicious 
 fruit, and that which Fran9ois liked best, was a small 
 berry of a dark blue color, not unlike the huckleberry, 
 but much sweeter and of higher flavor. It grows on 
 a low bush or shrub with ovate leaves ; and this bush 
 when it blossoms 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 twenty feet or more. 
 The French Canadians call it " le poire," but in most 
 parts of America it is known as the " service-berry," 
 although several other names are given to it in dif- 
 ferent districts. Lucien informed his companions, 
 while they were crushing its sweet, purplish fruit 
 between their teeth, that its botanical name is Ame" 
 lanchier, 
 
 " Now," remarked Fran9ois, " if we only had a cup 
 of coffee and a glass of wine, we might say that we 
 had dined in fashionable style." 
 
 " I think," replied Lucien, " we are better without 
 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 Fran9ois ; " why, there's not a 
 leaf of tea nearer than China ; and for the sugar, not 
 ft grain within hundreds of miles ! " 
 
166 A GRAND SUNDAY DINNER. 
 
 " Come, Frank," said Lucien, " nature has not been 
 60 ungenerous here, — even in such luxuries as tea 
 and sugar. Look yonder 1 You see those large trees 
 with the dark-colored trunks. What are they ? " 
 
 " Sugar-maples," replied Franyois. 
 
 " Well," said Lucien, " I think even at this lato 
 season we might contrive to extract sap enough from 
 them to sweeten a cup of tea. You may try, while 1 
 go in search of the tea-plant." 
 
 ''Upon my word, Luce, you are equal to a whole- 
 sale grocery. Very well. Come, Basil, we'll tap the 
 maples ; let the captain go with Luce." 
 
 The boys, separating into pairs, walked off in dif- 
 ferent directions. Lucien and his companion soon 
 lighted upon the object of their seai-ch 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 color above, but 
 whitish and woolly underneath. 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 Ericacece, or heath tribe, 
 of the genus Ledum — though it is not 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 
 <he 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 gatb- 
 
A GKAUD SUNDAY DINNER. 107 
 
 ered bj Lucien and Norman. They require to he 
 dried before the decoction is made ; but this can 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 Fi-anyoirf had 
 obtained the sugar-water, and Lucien having washed 
 ' is soup-kettle clean, and once more mdde his boiling 
 itones red-hot, prepared the beverage ; and then it 
 was served out in the tin cup, and all partock of it. 
 Norman had drank the Labrador tea before, and was 
 rather fond of it, but his Southern cousins did not 
 much relish it. Its peculiar flavor, which somewhat 
 resembles rhubarb, was not at all to the liking of 
 Fran9ois. All, however, admitted that it produced a 
 cheering effect upon the^r spirits ; and, after drink- 
 ing it, they felt in that peculiarly happy stnte oC 
 mind which one experiences after a cup of tHc real 
 "Boheiu" 
 
'68 THE MAKMOTS OF AMERICA. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE MARMOTS OF 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 aa 
 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 ot a goose, or perhaps a young 
 swan, was shot; and this change in their diet was 
 very agreeable. Fish were caught only upon occa- 
 sions, for often these capricious - creatures refused 
 Fran9ois' bait, however temptingly offered. After 
 three weeks' coasting the Lake, they reached the Sas- 
 katchewan, and turning up that stream, now travelled 
 in a due westerly direction. At the Grand Rapids, 
 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 ^^ the Rocky Mountains to its debouchure, un- 
 d^r^ the name of the "Nelson River,*' in Hudson's 
 
THE MARMOIS OF AMEKICA. 1 09 
 
 Bay. For some distance above Lake Winnipeg, the 
 country upon its banks is well wooded. Farther 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 " des- 
 erts." 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 intention, after reaching Cum- 
 berland 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 Sas- 
 katchewan. They had chosen a beautiful spot for 
 their camp, where the country, swelling into rounded 
 hills, was prettily interspersed with bushy copses of 
 Arnelanchiers, and Rosa blanda 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 Cleome, 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 noth- 
 ing better than dry venison scorched over the conls 
 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 
 
i70 THE MARMOTS OF AMERICA. 
 
 The camp had been placed at the foot of a tolerably 
 steep hill, that rose near the banks of tho 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 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 with its top cut off, or beaten down. 
 
 " What are they ? " inquired Franpois. 
 
 " I fancy," answered Lucien, " they are marmot- 
 houses." 
 
 " They are," affirmed Norman ; " there are plenty 
 of them in this country." 
 
 " 0, marmots ! " said Fran9ois. " Prairie dogs, you 
 mean ? — the same we met with on the southern 
 prairies ? " 
 
 " I think not," replied Norman : " I think the prai- 
 rie-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 ThcBe, 
 vou see, have not. The hole is in the ground besida 
 them, and the hill is in front, made by the earth taken 
 out of the burrow, just as you have seen it at the en- 
 trance of a rat's hole. They are marmots, I have na 
 
THE MARMOTS OF AMERICA. 171 
 
 ioubt, but of a different species, from the prairie-ilog 
 marmots." 
 
 " Are there not many kinds of marmots in Araer^ 
 ica ? 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 specie.^ of these singular 
 animals. There are thirteen kinds of them, well 
 known to naturalists; and there are even some va^ 
 rieties in these thirteen kinds that might almost be 
 considered distinct species. I have no doubt, more- 
 over, 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 ani- 
 mals has rewarded them so well as the marmots — 
 unless, perhaps, it 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 
 difficult 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 9 
 Bhorter tail. It is true that in the thirteen speciee 
 
172 THE MARMOTS OF AMERICA. 
 
 some differ considerably from the others in sizo,, c»iloi 
 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 
 dividing 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 study of natu- 
 ral history (all hunters, I believe, love it more oi 
 less), had no great opinion of the closet-naturalists 
 and "babblerfl about teeth," as he contemptuously 
 called them. 
 
 *' Wlien a family of animals," continued Lucien, 
 " contains a great many species, and these species dif- 
 fer 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 these 
 closely allied to each other, I think nothing can be 
 more ridiculous than this dividing and subdividing, 
 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 Richard' 
 tonii,^ which, although nearly a yard long, means sim« 
 ply the * tawny marmot.' Do not mistake me," con* 
 
fllK 5IAUM0TS OF AMEKICA. 173 
 
 Hnui/d Lucien ; " I do not object to the use ot the 
 Greek or Latin phraseology used in such cases. 
 Some universal language must be adopted, so that the 
 naturalists of different countries may understand each 
 other. But then this language should, when trans* 
 lated, describe the animal, by giving some of its char- 
 acteristics, and thus have a meaning. On the con- 
 trary, it usually, when put into plain English, gives 
 us only the name — often a clumsy and unpronounce- 
 able German one — of some obscure friend of the 
 author, or, as is not unfrequently 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 
 quadrupeds, 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 wlio gen- 
 erally multiply synonymes so as to render science 
 unintelligible. Sitting in their easy-chairs 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 measuremeuta 
 ad infinitum^ and this among them constitutes a sci- 
 ence. I do not, of course, include among these the 
 man whose name is given — Richardson. No; he 
 was a true naturalist, who travelled and underwent 
 hardships to earn the high name which he bears ani' 
 iBo well deserves." 
 
174 THE MARMOTS OF AMERICA. 
 
 "Brother Luce," said Basil, "you grow exjited 
 upon this subject, and that is something of a rarity to 
 Bee. 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 dis- 
 tinguished closet-naturalists. Well, I found thai all 
 the information they contained about the animals of 
 these norttiern regions — at least, all that could be called 
 information — I had read somewhere before. After 
 thinking for a while I recollected where. It was in the 
 pages of the traveller Hearne — a man who, among 
 these scientific gentlemen, is considered only in the 
 light of a rude traveller, and not deserving the name 
 of naturalist. Hearne journeyed to the Arctic Sea 
 60 early 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 
 Beventieth parallel of latitude." 
 
 " Yes," said Lucien, " he was sent out by the Hud- 
 son's Bay Company, perhaps more scantily furnished 
 than any explorer ever was before. He underwent 
 the most dreadful hardships and perils, and has left 
 behind him an account of the inhabitants 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 with 
 giving just what poor Hearne had gathered — as, in 
 fact, they knew nothing more, and could not, there- 
 fore, add any thing. Some of them have quoted hia 
 own words, and given him the credit of his vast labor ; 
 while others have endeavored to pass off Hearne'g 
 
THE MARMOTS OF AMERICA. 175 
 
 fc.nowledge 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 re- 
 suming 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 expression, to the ground- 
 squirrel, and some of them differ but little in their 
 habits from many of the latter. Other species, again, 
 are more allied to the rabbits, and less like the squir- 
 i^ls; 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, while others, as the leopard- 
 marmot, 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 diners 
 somewhat, perhaps according to the circumstances iu 
 which they may be placed. In all cases it is vege- 
 table. Some, as the prairie-dogs, live apon grasses, 
 while others subsist chiefly upon seeds, berries, and 
 leaves. It was long supposed that the marmots, like 
 the squirrels, laid up stores against the winter. I be* 
 Ueve this is not th^ case with any of the diflferenl 
 
 / 
 
176 THE MAllMOTS OP AMERICA. 
 
 gpec'i°s. 1 know for certain that many of them pas* 
 the wintei in a state of torpidity, and of course require 
 no provisions, as they eat nothing during that season. 
 In this we observe one of those cases in which Nature 
 80 beautifully adapts a creature to its circumstances 
 Ie 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 creatures to 
 get a morsel of food for many long months. During 
 this period, therefore, Nature suspends her functions, by 
 putting them into a deep, and, 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 animals 
 may be said, therefore, to have no winter. Their life 
 is altogether a season of summer 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 animals, though 
 there are one or two species that are satisfied with 
 a cleft in the rock, or a hole among loose stones 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 prolific, the females bringing forth 
 eight, and even ten young at a birth. 
 
THE MARMOTS OP AMERICA. 177 
 
 **TKe marmots are extremely shy and watchfU 
 ereatures. Before going to feed they usually recon- 
 noitre 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 feeding. These sentries 
 station themselves on some commanding point, and 
 when they see an enemy approaching give warnirg U 
 the others by a peculiar cry. In several of the speciea 
 this cry resembles 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. 
 
 " The ' whistler's ' call of alarm can be heard at 
 a great distance ; and when uttered by the sentinel ia 
 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 suc- 
 ceeds 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 upoB 
 them " 
 
178 THE BLAIREAU, THE " TAWNIE8, 
 
 CHAPTER XVIIl. 
 
 THE BLAIREAU, THE « TAWNIES," ANl) THB 
 " 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 themselves. 
 Several of them appeared at the mouths of their holes ; 
 and, after looking out and reconnoitring 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 
 them, entirely different in color, size, and other re- 
 spects. The larger ones were of a grayish yellow 
 above, with an orange tint upon the throat 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 
 fyere larger and more slender, which rendered thei* 
 appearance more graceful Their chief beauty, how 
 
AND THE «• LEOPARDS.'* 179 
 
 ever, lay in their colors and markings. They "w^ere 
 striped from the nose to the rump with bands of yel 
 low and chocolate color, which alternated with each 
 otlier, while the chocolate bands were themselves 
 variegated by rows of yellow spots regularly placed 
 These markings gave the animals that peculiar appear- 
 ance so well known as characterizing the skin of the 
 leopard, hence the name of these little creatures waa 
 " 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 neighbors in the same " settlement." The burrows 
 of the " leopard " have much smaller entrances than 
 those of their "tawny kin," and run down perpen- 
 dicularly to a greater depth before branching off in a 
 horizontal direction. 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 
 deep under ground. This guides us to the ex- 
 planation 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 wak- 
 ing 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 
 
180 I'HE BLAIREAU, THE " TAWNIES," 
 
 to heed the njovements of the travellers by the ?anip 
 fire. Besides, a considerable valley lay between them 
 and the camp, which, as they beheved, rendered their 
 position secure. They were not at such a distance 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" against the others, but the 
 males of each kind in single combats with one anotlier. 
 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 frequently 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 aroand 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 ita 
 ears short and rounded. Its hair was long, rough, and 
 of a mottled hoary gray color, 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 animal could be seen long and 
 strong curving claws. Its snout was sharp as that of 
 
AND THE "LEOP-ARDS." 181 
 
 A grey hi un*^ — though not so prettily fonned — and a 
 whit^ stripe, passing from its very tip over the crown^ 
 and bordered by two darker bands, gave a singular ex- 
 pression to the animal's countenance. It was altO' 
 gether, both in form and feature, a strange and vicious- 
 looking creature. Norman recognized 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, oi 
 Maryland marmot (Arctomys monax). Indeed, it was 
 for a long time believed that no true badger inhabit- 
 ed the continent of America. Now, however, it is 
 known that such exists, although it is of a-species dis- 
 tinct from the badger of Europe. It is less in size 
 than the latter, and its fur is longer, finer, and lighter 
 in color ; 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 inhabitant of 
 the sandy and barren districts, where it burrows the 
 earth in such 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 
 residence, but the burrows of the marmots, which the 
 blaireau has enlarged, so that it may enter and prey 
 apon 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 impossible for the blaireau to effect 
 an entrance. At this season it would unloubtodlj 
 
182 THE BLAIREAU, THE " TAWNIES," 
 
 Btarve 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 crea- 
 tures ; and it prefers, above all others, the *' tawnies," 
 and the beautiful " leopards," both of which it perse- 
 cutes incessantly. 
 
 The badger when first seen was creeping along witk 
 its belly almost dragging the ground, and its long 
 snout projected horizontally in the direction of the 
 marmot " village." It was evidently meditating a 
 surprise of the inhabitants. Now and then it would 
 stop, like a pointer dog when close to a partridge, rec 
 onnoitre a moment, and then go on again. Its design 
 appeared to be to get between the marmots and their 
 burrows, intercept some of them, and get a hold of 
 them without the trouble of digging them up — al- 
 though 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. 
 
 Slowly 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 vo- 
 racious 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 cunicula- 
 via), 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 
 
AND THE "leopards." 183 
 
 cry was followed by a general scamper of both taw- 
 nies and leopards towards their respective burrows. 
 
 The blaireau, seeing that further concealmenrt was 
 no longer of any use, raised himself higher upon his 
 limbs, and sprang forward in pursuit. He was too 
 late, however, as the marmots had all got into their 
 holes, and their angry " seek-seek " was heard pro- 
 ceeding from various quarters out of the bowels of the 
 earth. The blaireau only hesitated long enough to 
 select one of the burrows into which he was sure a 
 marmot had entered ; and then, setting himself to his 
 work, he commenced throwing out the mould like a 
 terrier. In a few seconds he was half buried, and hia 
 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, endeav- 
 ored 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 
 T^'ere 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 he would 
 burrow beyond their reach. So they held on until 
 Franpois had got his gun ready. This the latter soon 
 did, and a load of small shot was fired into the blair- 
 eau's hips, which, although it did not quite kill him, 
 caused him to back out of the hole, and brought him 
 into the clutches of Marengo. A desperate struggle 
 ensued, which ended by the bloodhound doubling his 
 vast black muzzle upon the throat of the blaireau, and 
 choking him te death in less than a dozen seconds 
 
184 THE BLAIREAU, THE " TAWNIES," 
 
 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 hill, 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 voyageur8, 
 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 sev- 
 eral species in North America, but it is not to be sup- 
 posed that there is any resemblance between them and 
 the buzzards just mentioned as having alighted by the 
 carcass of the blaireau. The latter, commonly called 
 "turkey buzzards," are true vultures, and feed mostly, 
 though not exclusively, on carrion ; while the " hawk 
 buzzards " 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 habil 
 jf giving names that express some quality or charaO' 
 
AND THE " LEOPARDS." 185 
 
 teiistic of the tiling itself. The bird in question was ' 
 on the win<^, and from its movements evidently seareh- 
 ing for game. It sailed in easy circlings near the 
 surface, quarter Ing the ground like a pointer dog. It 
 flew so lightly that its wings were not seen to move, 
 and throughout all its wheelings and turnings it ap- 
 peared to be carried onwards or upwards 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 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-col- 
 ored 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 trav- 
 ellers. 
 
 TiUcien now pointed out to his companions a char- 
 acteristic of the hawk and buzzard tribe, by which 
 these birds can always be distinguished from the true 
 falcon. That pe puliarity lay in the manner of seizing 
 their prey. Th« former skim forward upon it side- 
 ways — that is, in a horizontal or diagonal direction, 
 and pick it up in passing ; while the true falcons — 
 AS the merlin, the peregrine, the gerfalcou, ard the 
 
186 THE BLAIREAU, ETC. 
 
 great eagle falcons — shoot down upon their prey 
 perpexdicularly like an arrow, or a piece of falling 
 lead. 
 
 He pointed out, moreover, how the structure of (he 
 different kinds of preying birds, such as the size and 
 form of the wings and tail, as well as other parts, were 
 in each kind adapted to its peculiar mode of pursu- 
 ing its prey ; and then there arose a discussion as to 
 whether this adaptation 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 the habit, for the young naturalist was h 
 firm believer in the changing and progressive system 
 of nature. 
 
AN ODD SORT OF DECOY-DUCK. 187 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 AN ODD SORT OF DECOY-DUCK. 
 
 Two days after the adventure with the blaireai% 
 the young voyageurs arrived at Cumberland Houses 
 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 hospitality, and enter- 
 tained 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 impossible. 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 ia 
 buried under deep snow, and travelling can only be 
 done with snow shoes, or with sledges drawn by 
 iogs. These are the modes practised by the Indians, 
 the Esquimaux, and the few white traders and trap- 
 pers 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 short, 
 >r become exhausted — game is scarce, or cannot be 
 
188 AN ODD SORT OF DECOY-DUCK. 
 
 found at all, as at tliat season many of the quadrupeds 
 and most of the birds have forsaken the country, and 
 migrated to the South — and whole parties of travel- 
 lers — even Indians, who can eat any thing, 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 tbs 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 ; 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 two of the party to carry the canoe, 
 with a few little things besides, all the baggage was 
 comprised in such loads as the others could manage ; 
 and of course that was not a great deal, for Franpois 
 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 Mississippi, or Chur- 
 chill 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. Along " portage " fi-om 
 
AN ODD SORT OF DECOY-DUCK. 189 
 
 tlie last-mentioned lake brought them to the head of a 
 stream known as the " Clear Water ; " and, launching 
 their canoe upon this, they floated down to its mouth, 
 and entered the main stream of 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 Athabas- 
 ca 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 trav- 
 erse, 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 waa 
 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 character ; and the 
 broad bosom of the stream itself, studded with wooded 
 islands, looked to our travellers more like a continua- 
 tion of lakes than a running river. Now they glided 
 along without using an oar, borne onward by the cur- 
 rent ; then they would take a spell at the paddles, 
 while the beautiful Canadian boat-song could be heard 
 as it came from the tiny craft, and the appropriate 
 chorus " Row," brothers, row ! " echoed from the ad- 
 jacent shores No part of their journey was more 
 pleasant than while descending the romantic Elk. 
 
 They found plenty of fresh provisions, both in the 
 
J 90 AN ODD SORT OF DECOY-DUCK. 
 
 Stream itself and on its banks. They caught salmon 
 in the water, and the silver-colored hyodon, known 
 among the voyageurs by the name of " Dor^." 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,*' 
 eo 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 
 band 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. Besides these, Lucien 
 informed them that there were several other smaller 
 kinds that inhabit the 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 lookout. This was 
 the far-famed "canvas-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 — aa 
 well as in other parts of the fur countries, and tliey 
 
AN ODD SORT OP DECOY-DUCK. 191 
 
 rere in hopes that they might fail in with it apoa the 
 waters of the Athabasca. Lucien was, of course, well 
 acquainted with its "biography," and could have 
 recognized one at sight ; and as they glided along he 
 volunteered to give his companions some information; 
 not only about this particular species, but about the 
 whole genus of these interesting birds. 
 
 "The canvas-back," began he, "is perhaps the 
 most celebrated and highly-prized of all the ducks, 
 on account of the exquisite flavor 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 fai 
 from equalling in beauty that of many other species 
 It has a red or chestnut-colored head, a shining black 
 breast, while the greater part of its body is of a gray- 
 ish color; but upon close examination this gray is 
 found to be produced by a whitish ground minutely 
 mottled with zigzag black lines. I believe it is this 
 mottling, combined with the color, which somewhat 
 resembles the appearance and texture of ship's can- 
 vas, that has given the bird its trivial name ; but 
 there is some obscurity about the origin of this. In 
 color, 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 X 
 is difficult to distinguish them from each other. The 
 last-mentioned species is always found associated with 
 the canvas-backs, and are even sold for the latter in 
 the markets of New York and Philadelphia. A nat- 
 urab'stj however, can easily distinguish them by theil 
 bills and eyes. The canvas-back has red eyes, with 
 
192 AN ODD SORT OF DECOY-DCCK. 
 
 a greenish black bill, nearly straight ; while the eyes 
 of the red-head are of an orai-ge yellow, its bill bluish 
 and concave along the upper ridge. 
 
 " The canvas-back is known in natural history as 
 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 
 Valisneri. This grass grows in slow-flowing streams, 
 and also on shoals by the sea-side — where the water, 
 from the influx of rivers, is only brackish. The water 
 where it grows is usually three to five feet in depth, 
 and the plant itself rises above the surface to the 
 height of two feet or more, with grass-like leaves of 
 a deep green color. Its roots are white and succulent, 
 and bear some resemblance to celery — hence the 
 plant is known among the duck-hunters as 'wild 
 celery.' It is upon these roots the vanvas-back al- 
 most exclusively feeds, and they give to the flesh of 
 these birds its peculiar and pleasant flavor. Wherever 
 the valisneria grows in quantity, as in the Chesapeake 
 Bay and some rivers, like the Hudson, there the 
 canvas-backs resort, and are rarely seen elsewhere. 
 They do not eat the leaves, but only the white soft 
 roots, which they dive for and pluck up with great 
 dexterity. The leaves when stripped of the root ai"e 
 suffered to float off* upon the surface of the water; 
 and where the ducks have been feeding, large quan- 
 titles of them, under the name of 'grass wrack,' are 
 thrown by the wind and tide upon the adjacent 
 shores. 
 
 "Shooting the canvas-backs is a source of profit 
 
AN ODD SORT OF DECOY-DUCK. 193 
 
 to hundreds of gunners who live around the Chesa- 
 peake Bay, as these birds command a high price in the 
 markets of the American cities. Disputes have arisen 
 between the fowlers of different States around the 
 Bay about the right of shooting upon it ; and vesselg 
 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 
 thf^ 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 befon 
 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 appeared a green 
 sedge-like water-grass, or rushes. Near the border 
 of this sedge, and in a part of it that was thin, a flock 
 of wild fowl was diving and feeding. They wero 
 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. Fran- 
 9ois immediately loaded 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 out his telescope, and 
 commenced observing the flock. They had not in- 
 tended to use any precaution in approaching the 
 birds, as they were not extremely anxious about get- 
 ting a shot, and were permitting the canoe to glide 
 13 
 
194 AN ODD SORT OP DECOY-DUCK 
 
 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 
 ahead were the very sort about which they had been 
 conversing — the " canvas-backs." He had no doubt 
 of it, judgmg from their color, size, and peculiar 
 movements. 
 
 The announcement produced a new excitement. 
 All four were desirous not only of shooting, but of 
 eating^ a canvas-back; and arrangements were set 
 about to effect the former. It was known to all that 
 the canvas-backs are among the shyest of water-fowl, 
 8o much so that it is difficult to approach them unless 
 under cover. While feeding, it is said, they keep sen- 
 tinels on the lookout. Whether this be true or not, 
 it is certain that they never all dive together, some 
 always remaining above water, and apparently watch- 
 ing while the others are under. A plan to get near 
 them was necessary, and one was suggested by Nor- 
 man, 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 pad- 
 dled 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 direction of 
 the ducks. The rifles were laid aside, as they could 
 be of little service with such game. Franfois' double- 
 barrel was the arm upon which dependence was now 
 placed ; and Francois himself leaned forward in tho 
 bow in order to be ready, while the others attended 
 
AN ODD SORT OF DECOY-DUCK. 195 
 
 ic the guidance of the vessel. The buck-shot had 
 been drawn out, and a smaller kind substituted. The 
 Bwan was no longer cared for or even thought of. 
 
 In about a quarter of an hour's time, the canoe, 
 ffliding silently al<Mig the edge of tL?, sedge — which 
 was the wild celery ( Valisneria spiralis) — came near 
 the place where the ducks were ; and the boys, peep- 
 ing through the leafy screen, could now see the birds 
 plainly. They saw that they were not all canvas- 
 hacks, but that three distinct kinds of ducks were 
 feeding together. One sort was the canvas-backs 
 themselves, and a second kind very much resembled 
 them, except that they were a size smaller. These 
 were the " red-heads " or " pochards." The third 
 species was different from either. They had also 
 heads of a reddish color, 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 (-4. 
 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 
 upon the community of the canvas-backs. The latter, 
 as Lucien had said, feeds upon the roots of the valis- 
 neria ; 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 plucking them up. Now the widgeon is 
 as fond of the " celery " as the canvas-back, but tha 
 former is not a diver — in fact, never goes under water 
 exc^ipt when wasnmg itself or in play, and it hai 
 
196 AN ODD SOTIT OF DECOY-DDCK. 
 
 therefore no means of procuring the desired n'-ota 
 Mark, then, the plan that it takes to effect this end 
 Seated as near as is safe to the canvas-back, it waita 
 until the latter makes his somersault and goes down. 
 It (the widgeon) then darts forward so as to be suffi- 
 ciently close, and, pausing agam scans the surface with 
 eager liye. 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 canvas-back comes up 
 holding the root between his mandibles. But tht> 
 widgeon is ready for him. He has calculated thij 
 exact spot where the other will rise ; and, before the 
 latter can open his eyes or get them clear of the water, 
 the widgeon darts forward, snatches the luscious morsel 
 from his bill, and makes off with it. Conflicts some- 
 times ensue ; but the widgeon, knowing himself to bo 
 the lesser and weaker bird, never stands to give battle, 
 but secures his prize through his superior agility. On 
 the other hand, the canvas-back rarely attempts to 
 follow him, as he knows that the other is swifler upon 
 the water than he. He only looks after his lost root 
 with an air of chagrin, and then, reflecting that tliere 
 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 
 ^ntented 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 
 Aterest. They saw, moreover, that the " trumpeter ' 
 
AN ODD SORT OF DECOY-DUCK. 197 
 
 had arrived among them, and the ducks seemed to 
 take no notice of him. Lucien was struck with some- 
 thing unusual in the appearance of the swan. Its 
 plumage seemed ruffled 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 benl 
 forward, until its bill almost touched the water, in the 
 atlitude that these birds adopt when feeding upon 
 lomethiag near the surface. Lucien said nothing to 
 his companions, as thej were all silent, lest they might 
 frighten the ducks ; but Basil and Norman had also 
 remarked the strange look and conduct of the trum- 
 peter. 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. More- 
 over, none of those that went down in the neighbor- 
 hood of the swan were seen to come up again ! 
 
 There was something very odd in all this, and the 
 three boys, thinking so at the same tirpe, were about 
 to communicate their thoughts to one another, when 
 the double crack of Francois' gun drove the thing, 
 for a moment, out of their heads ; and they all looked 
 over the bushes to see how many canvas-backs had 
 been killed. Several were seen dead or fluttering 
 along the surface ; but no one counted them, for a 
 strange, and even terrible, object now presented itself 
 
198 AN ODD SORT OF DECOY-DUCK 
 
 to the astonished senses of all. If the conduct of the 
 Bwan had been odd before, it was new doubly so. In- 
 stead of flying off after the shot, a^ 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 as if pitched into the air, and fell on its 
 back some distance off; while in its place was seen s 
 dark, round object moving through the water, as if 
 making for the bank, and uttering, as it went, the 
 same 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 glistening neck and 
 naked shoulders of a red and brawny Indian ! All 
 was now explained. The Indian had been duck-hunt- 
 ing, 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 Fran9ois' gun had startled him 
 from his work. 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 ^hat such 
 was the case. 
 
 The travellers picked up the swan-skin out of curi- 
 osity ; and, in addition to the ducks which Fran^oii 
 
AUr ODD SORT OP DECOY-DUCK. 199 
 
 had killed, they found nearly a score of theae birds 
 which the Indian had dropped in his fright, and that 
 bad afterwards risen to the surface. These 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 ser^ce, the little craft shLt down stream 
 like sal arrow. 
 
100 THE DUCKS OF iiMERICi. 
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 THE DUCKS OF AMERICA. 
 
 LuciEN now continued his " monograph " of tli« 
 American ducks. 
 
 " There are," said he, " more than two dozen spe- 
 cies of ducks on the waters of North America. Tl ese 
 the systematists have divided into no less than eighteen 
 genera ! Why, it would be more easy 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 duckd 
 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- 
 stances ; others upon small fish, insects, Crustacea, &c 
 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 systomatista 
 
THE DUCKS OF AMERICA. 201 
 
 have iraproved but little, if any thing, upon the simple 
 arrangement of the true naturalist, Wilson, who — ■ 
 poor Scotch emigre as he was, with an empty pursp 
 and a loaded gun — has collected more original infor- 
 mation 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 
 maaner than any one has done since his time — not 
 even excepting 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 Lucien — 
 ** I mean the swanp, 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 ail migrate southward, 
 but return again to breed and spend the summer. They 
 do this, perhaps, because these wild territories afford 
 them a better security during the season of incubation. 
 And afterwards of moulting. It is not very certain, 
 however, that this is the reason, and for my part 1 
 am inclined to think not, for there are also wild, unin- 
 habited territories enough in southern latitudes, and 
 yet they forsake these afad migrate north in the 
 spring. ' Their arrival in the fur countries,' writes 
 a distinguished naturalist, * marks the commencemeni 
 of spring, and diffuses as much joy among the wander* 
 
2(2 THE DUCKS OF AMERICA. 
 
 mg hunters of the Arctic regions, as the harvest oi 
 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 slaugh- 
 tered by thousands, and are eaten not only when 
 fresh killed, but they are salted in large quan- 
 tities, and so preserved for winter use, when fresh 
 ones can no longer be procured. Of course, both In- 
 dian 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. Per- 
 haps he will favor 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 en* 
 tangl?d. The snares are made out of deer sinews, 
 twisted like packthread, and sometimes of thongs cut 
 from a ' paichment ' deer -skin, which, as you know, 'iM 
 
THE DUCKS OF AMERICA 203 
 
 a deer-skin simply dried, and not tanned oi 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 shal- 
 low, 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 feedj 
 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 not clean, the 
 birds can smell the snare, and will be shy of going 
 into it. They say that all these birds — and I be- 
 lieve 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 Nor- 
 man, " the Indians sometimes catch them in nets, and 
 Bomc'times on hooks baited with whatever the birds 
 
204 THE DUCKS OF AMERICA. 
 
 are known to eat. They also shoot them as the whit€ 
 hunters do, and to get near enough use every sort of 
 cunning that can be thought of. Sometimes they de^- 
 coy 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 fiock ; 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 
 follow them. I have heard of many other tricks 
 which the Indians of different tribes make use of, but 
 1 have only seen these w ays 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 conversation, 
 and gave some further information about the different 
 species of American ducks. 
 
 " One of the most celebrated,*' said he, " is the 
 ' eider-duck ' (Anas mollissima). This is prized for 
 its down, which is exceedingly soft and fine, and 
 esteemed oi 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 dilata- 
 ble as to fill a quilt of five feet square. The down ig 
 generally obtained without killing the bird, for that 
 which is plucked from dead birds is far inferior, and 
 
THE DUCKS OP AMERICA. 20S 
 
 has losl mucli of its elasticity. The mode of procur- 
 ing 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 who gather the commodity, she plucks out a 
 second crop of it, and arranges it as before. This be- 
 Mig al*^o 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 color is black 
 below, and buff-white on the back, neck, and shoul- 
 ders, while the forehead is bluish black. It is one of 
 the * sea-ducks,' or fuliguUe, as the naturalists term 
 them, and it is rarely seen in fresh water. Its food is 
 principally the soft moUusca common in the Arctic 
 seas, and its fiesh is not esteemed except by the 
 Greenlanders. It is at home only in the higher lati- 
 tudes 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,' ' shoal-duck,' and ' squaw-duck ; ' and 
 ander 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 
 
206 THE DUCKS OF AMERICA. 
 
 experiment; but I believe it has already been at- 
 tempted 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 latitudes 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 valua- 
 ble, but it is a smaller bird. 
 
 " A still smaller species, also noted for its brilliant 
 plumage, inhabits the extreme north of both conti- 
 nents. This is the ' harlequin-duck ; ' or, as the early 
 colonists term it, the 'lord.' 
 
 " But the ' wood-duck ' (Anas spmisa) is, perhaps, the 
 most beautiful of all the American species, or, indeed, 
 of all ducks whatever — although it has a rival in tho 
 mandarin duck of China, which, indeed, 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 occasionally 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 domesticate, 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-peei. 
 and, above all, its beautiful plumage, make it a gen- 
 eral favorite- 
 
THE DUCKS OF AMERICA. 207 
 
 " Besides these, there are many others of the Amer^ 
 ican ducks, whose description would interest you, buf 
 you would grow tired were I to give a detailed 
 account of them all ; so I shall only mention a few 
 that ai'e distinguished by well-known peculiarities. 
 There is the ' whistler ' (A. clangula)^ 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 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 di- 
 rection. 
 
 " Besides these," continued Lucien, " there are the 
 teals — blue and green-winged — and the coots, and 
 the widgeon — slightly differing from the widgeon of 
 Europe — and there is the rare and beautiful little 
 ruddy duck {A. ruhida), with its bright mahogany 
 color — its long upright tail and short neck — that hI 
 
208 THE DUCKS OF AMERICA. 
 
 a disiance 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 common domestic variety, and the 
 * scoter,' and ' surf,' and ' velvet,' and ' dusky,' ducks — 
 these last four being all, more or less, of a dark color. 
 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 bilk, 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 Fran9ois was glad when it ended, 
 for lie was beginning to think it somewhat tedious. 
 
THE SHRIKE AND THE HUMMING-BIRDS. 20S 
 
 chaptp:r XXL 
 
 THE SHRIKE AND THE HUMMING-BIRDS. 
 
 TuE picturesque scenery of the Elk appeared U bo 
 % favorite resort with the feathered creation. Hero 
 5ur voyageurs saw many kinds of birds ; both those 
 ihat 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 ob- 
 served 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 favorite of the farmer 
 and the homestead, the purple martin, was seen grace- 
 fully wheeling through the air ; while, among the 
 green leaves, fluttered many brilliant birds. The 
 " cardinal grosbeak " {Pitylus cardinalis) with his 
 bright scarlet wings ; the blue jay, noisy and shatter- 
 ing ; the rarer " crossbill " (Loxia) with its deep 
 crimson color; and many others, equally bright and 
 beautiful, enlivened the woods, either with their voice 
 or their gaudy plumage. There was one bird, how 
 ever, that had neither fine " feathers " nor an agreear 
 ble voice, but that interested our travellers more than 
 any of the others. Its voice was unpleasant to the ear, 
 and sounded more like the grating of a rusty hinge 
 than any thing else they could think of. The bird 
 14 
 
210 THE SHRIKE 
 
 itself was not larger than a thrush, of a liglit graj 
 color above, white underneath, and with blackish 
 wings. Its bill resembled that of the hawks, but ita 
 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 color of the bird, nor its form, nor 
 yet its song, that interested our travellers, but its sin 
 gular habits; and these they had a fine opportuni 
 ty of observing at one of their " noon camps," where 
 they had halted to rest and refresh themselves dur- 
 ing the hot midday hours. The place was on out. 
 of the little islets, which was covered with underwood, 
 with here and there some larger trees. The under- 
 wood bushes were of various sorts ; but close to the 
 spot where they 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, Fran9ois' quick eye de- 
 tected 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 " (TrocMlus colubris), so called, 
 because a flake of a beautiful vinous color under the 
 throat of the males exhibits, in the sun, all the glan- 
 cing glories of the ruby. The back, or upper parts, 
 are of a gilded green color ; 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" (Trochiltis 
 I'ufus). The latter, however, has been seen in the 
 northern regions, only on the western side of the 
 Rocky Mountains; but then it has been observed 
 
AND THE HUMMING-BIRDS. 211 
 
 even as far north as the bleak and inhospitable 
 shores of Nootka Sound. Mexico, and the tropical 
 countries of America, are the favorite home of the 
 humming-birds ; and it was, for a long time, supposed 
 that the "ruby-throats" were the only ones thai 
 migrated farther north than the territory of Mexicfr* 
 itself. It is now kno^^^l, 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 them skipping about and pois- 
 ing themselves opposite the flowers, the attention 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 honey- 
 suckles; but every now and then it would spring 
 fi-om 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 manoeuvres 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 (MuscicapeB), 
 have this habit, and nothing was thought of it at the 
 moment. Lucien, however, who had watched the 
 bird more narrowly, presently declared to the rest 
 that it was catching the humming-birds, and preying 
 upon them — that each time it made a dash among 
 
212 THE SHRIKE 
 
 the honeysuckles, it carries off one in its cLiws, th« 
 smallness of the victim having prevented them at 
 first from noticing 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 Fran9ois, 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. Franpois paid no atten- 
 tion to this ; but, keeping under shelter of the under- 
 wood, he crept forward until within shot. Then 
 raising his gun, he took aim, and pulling trigger, 
 brought the bird fluttering down through the branches. 
 lie 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 camp, when he chanced to glance his 
 eye jp into the locust-tree. Tliere it was riveted by 
 a sight which caused him to cry out with astonish- 
 ment. His cry brought the rest running up to the 
 spot, and they were not less astonished than l^e, when 
 they saw the cause of it. I have said that the 
 branches of the tree were covered with long the my 
 3pikes that pointed in every direction ; but one branch 
 in particular occupied their attention. Upon this 
 there were about a dozen of these spines pointing up- 
 ward, and upon each spike was impaled a ruby 
 
AND THE HUMMING-BIRDS. 213 
 
 %nix>at! 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 simihir 
 manner. Several grasshoppers, spiders, and some 
 coleopterous insects were found, and upon another 
 branch two small meadow-mice {Arvicolm) had been 
 treated to the same terrible death ! 
 
 To Basil, Norman, and Fran9ois, the thing was 
 q lite inexplicable, but Lucien understood well enough 
 what it meant. AH these creatures, he informed them, 
 were placed there by the bird which Francois had 
 shot, and which was no other than the " shrike " 
 (Lanius) 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 fol- 
 lows such a practice Lucien could not tell, as natural- 
 ists are not agreed upon this point. Some have as- 
 serted 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, for it prey a 
 mostly upon birds that are not insect-eaters, as the 
 finches ; besides, it is itself as fond of eating grass- 
 hoppers as any thing else, and consumes large quanti- 
 ties 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 otlier preyinj* 
 
214 THE SHRIKE AND THE HUMMING-BIRD 8. 
 
 creatures — just as a good cook would liang up bei 
 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 ap his super- 
 fluous spoil for future use, just as the crows, magpies,- 
 and jays, make their secret deposits in chinks of walla 
 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 o«5 
 their journey. 
 
THE FISH-HAWK. 21ft 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 THE FISH-HAWK. 
 
 A PEW days after, another incident occurred to oui 
 voyageurs, which illustrated the habits of a very in« 
 teresting bird, the " ospray," or fish-hawk, as it is more 
 familiarly known in America. 
 
 The ospray {Falco halicBtus) is a bird of the faloon 
 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 color above, that color 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, although 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 oft^n seen fiijliing 
 together. In the spring season these birds move tc 
 the northward, and make their appearance along the 
 
216 THE FISH-HAWK. 
 
 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 groat 
 favorites are they with the fishermen, that they would 
 not knowingly kill an ospray 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 contra- 
 dicted. The farmer often takes up his gun to fire at 
 the ospray — mistaking it for the red-tailed buzzard 
 {^Buteo borealis) or some other hawk, several species 
 of which at a distance it resembles — but, on discover- 
 ing his mistake, brings down his piece without pulling 
 trigger, and lets the ospray fly off unharmed. This 
 singular conduct on the part of the farmer arises from 
 his knowledge of the fact, that the ospray 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, there- 
 fore, the ospray is one of the securest birds in 
 America. He may breed in a tree over the farmer'? 
 or fisherman's door without the slightest danger of 
 being disturbed in his incubation. I say his incuba 
 tion ; 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 protected, the ospray is not a rare bird. On the 
 contrary, fish-hawks are more numerous than perhapa 
 any other species of the hawk tribe. Twenty or thirty 
 
THE FISH-HAWK. 217 
 
 nests may be ^een near each other in the same piece 
 of woods, and as many as three hundred have been 
 counted on on 3 little island. The nests are built upon 
 large trees — not always at the tops, as those of rooks, 
 but often in forks within twenty 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 probable 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 rubbish 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 themselves, and the dead fish that have been 
 dropped about the root, and suffered to remain there ; 
 for when the ospray lets fall his finny prey, which he 
 often does, he never condescends co pick it up again, 
 but goes in search of another. Boys "a-nesting" 
 might easily discover the nest of the ospray ; but were 
 they inchnad to despoil it of its three or four egga 
 (which are about the size of a duck's, and blotched 
 with Spanish brown), they would find that a less easy 
 task, for the owners would be very likely to claw theii 
 eyes out, or else scratch the tender skin from theii 
 
218 THE FISH -HAWK. 
 
 beardless cheeks: so that boys do not often troubl4 
 the nest of the ospray. A very curious arecdote 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, although there is nothing improbable about 
 it ; for certain it is tliat 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. 
 
 The osprays, as already stated, feed exclusively on 
 fish. They are not known to prey upon birds or quad- 
 rupeds 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 ex 
 pected 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 ospray's nest, and rear 
 their young without being meddled with by this gen- 
 erous bird. This is an important point of difference 
 between the ospray and other kinds of hawks ; and 
 there is a peculiarity of structure about the feet j\nd 
 legs of the ospray, that points t© the nature of his 
 
THE FISH-HAWK. 219 
 
 fijod and his mode of procuring it. Ilis Tegs are dia 
 proportionatoly long and strong. They are without 
 featliers nearly to the knees. The feet and toes are 
 also very long, and the soles are 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 
 taat illustrated some of the habits of this interesting 
 bird. It was upon the afternoon of a Saturday, after 
 they had fixed their camp to remain for the following 
 day. They had landed upon a point or promontory 
 that YSLH out into the river, and from which they com- 
 manded a view of a fine stretch of water. Near 
 where they had placed their tent was the nest of an 
 ospray, 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 osprays that they will remain in the nest, and 
 be fed by the parent birds, until long after they might 
 be considered able to shift for themselves. It is even 
 asserted that the latter became 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, however, before 
 both he and his companions witnessed its complete 
 verification. 
 
22t THE FISH-HAWK. 
 
 The old birds, after the arrival of the \oj&,ge^n 
 upon tl e promontory, had remained for some time 
 around llie nest, and at intervals had shot down to 
 where the party was, uttering loud screams, and mak- 
 ing the air whizz with the strokes of their wings- 
 Seeing that there was no intention of disturbing them, 
 thej at length desisted from these demonstrations, an<3 
 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 a hundred feet or so above the water. 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 without the slightest aid 
 from the wings. Again they would come to a pause, 
 holding themselves fixed in mid-air by a gentle flap- 
 ping, and appearing to scrutinize 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 ita 
 flight, and, like a stone projected from a sling, shoots 
 dowK to the water. Before reaching the surface, how- 
 ever the fish, whose quick eye has detected the com- 
 ing snemy, has gone to the dark bottom, and con- 
 cealed himself; and the ospray, suddenly checking 
 himself by his wings and the spread of his full 
 tail, mounts again, and recommences his curvilinear 
 aight. 
 
 After this had gone on for some time, one cf tlw 
 
THE FISH-HAWK, 221 
 
 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 as- 
 tonishment of the boys, she began to strike her winga 
 against the young ones, as if she was endeavoring to 
 force them from the nest. This was just what she 
 designed doing. Perhaps her late unsuccessful at^ 
 tempt to get them a fish had led her to a train of re* 
 flections, and sharpened her determination to make 
 them shift for themselves. However 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 a fish, head- 
 foremost, 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 
 latter clutched it with as much ease as if it had been 
 accustomed to the thing for years, and then turning 
 away, carried the fish to a neighboring tree, and com- 
 menced devouring it. The action had been perceived 
 by the other youngster, who followed after, and alighted 
 upon the same branch, with the intention of sharing 
 in the meal. In a few minutes, the best part of tho 
 fish was eaten up, 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." 
 
222 THE OSPRAY AND Hlfi TYRANT. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 THE OSPEAY AND HIS TYRANT 
 
 After remaining for some time on the n&jt 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 conversed 
 about his habits and other points in his natural his- 
 tory. Lucien informed them that the ospray is a bird 
 common to both continents, and that it is often seen 
 upon the shores of the Mediterranean, pursuing the 
 finny tribes there, just as it does 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. 
 
 While they were discoursing, the ospray 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 sbifted 
 their quarters. Most probably experience had taught 
 them wisdom, and they knew the ospray as their most 
 lerrible enemy. But they were not to escape him at 
 ail times. As the boys watched the bird, he was seei 
 f>^ ^>>^e himself Oor an instant in the air, then sud 
 
THE OSPRAT AND HIS TYRANT. 223 
 
 denly closing his wings, he shot vertically Jownward 
 So rapid was his descent, that the eye could only trace 
 it like a bolt of lightning. There was a sharp whizz- 
 ing 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 maiked 
 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 voy- 
 ageurs had before noticed, the fish was carried head- 
 foremost, and this led them to the conclusion that in 
 sticking his prey beneath the water, the ospray 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, pre- 
 cisely as a dog would do after coming out of water. 
 He then directed his flight, now somewhat slow and 
 heavy, towards the nest. On reaching the tree, how- 
 ever, there appeared to be some mismanagement. 
 The fish caught among the branches as he flew in- 
 ward. Perhaps the presence of the camp had dis- 
 tracted 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, fbr 
 Fran9ois had not been able to get a " nibble " during 
 the whole day, and a fresh fish for dinner was very 
 desirable to all. Fran9ois and Basil had both started 
 
224 THE OSPRAr AND HIS TYRANT. 
 
 to their feet, in order to secure the fish before Iii6 
 ospray should pounce down and pick it up ; but Lu* 
 cien assured them that they need be in no hurry about 
 that, as the bird would not touch it again after he had 
 once 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 efiluvium 
 arising from a mass of other fish that lay in a decom' 
 posed state around the tree was more than any deli- 
 cate 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 itself! The track of the ospray's talons 
 was deeply marked ; and by the direction in which 
 the creature was scored, it was evident the bird had 
 seized it from behind. The old hawks made a con- 
 siderable noise while the fish was being carried 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 difficulty 
 about it. I should think they get as much as they can 
 eat. See ! there again ! Another, I deciare ! " 
 
 As Francois spoke, the male ospray was seen to 
 ehoot down as before, and this time, although he ap- 
 peared scarcely to dip his foot in the water, rose up 
 with a fish in his talons. 
 
 "They have sometimes others to provide for l>e- 
 lides themselves," remarked Lucien. " For instance^ 
 the bald eagle " 
 
irnn OSPRAT AND HIS TYRANT. 22d 
 
 Lucien was interrupted by a cackling scream, 
 «ebich was at once recognized 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 tlie opposite side of the river — and 
 tliere, just in the act of launching itself from the top 
 of a tall tree, was the great enemy of the ospray,— 
 the white-headed eagle himself ! 
 
 *' Now a chase ! " cried Fran9ois ; " yonder comei 
 Uie 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 ospray 
 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, as he soared after. Close be- 
 hind him went the female ospra}r, ittering wild 
 screams, flapping her wings against his very beak, and 
 endeavoring 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- 
 tiimed until the birds had reached a high elevation, 
 and the osprays, from their less bulk, were nearly out 
 of sight. But the voyageurs could see that the eagle 
 was on tine point of overtaking the one that carried 
 the fish. Presently, a glittering object dropped 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 ! " of the eagle, as the great 
 15 
 
226 THE OSPRAT AND HIS TYRANT. 
 
 bird shot after it. Before reaching the surface, how« 
 ever, his white tail and wings were seen to spread 
 Buddi'nly, checking his downward course ; and then, 
 with a scream of disappointment, he flew off in a hori» 
 zontal direction, and alit upon the same tree from 
 which he had taken his departure. In a minute aftei 
 the osprays came shooting down, in a diagonal line, to 
 their nest ; and having arrived there, a loud and ap- 
 parently angry consultation was carried on for som6 
 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 
 ospray was in his way, and hinderisd him." 
 
 " But why did he not pick it up in the water ? " de- 
 manded 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 Franpois, " that the ospray, not 
 half so big a bird, must support this great robber- 
 lyrant by his industry." 
 
 "It's no worse than among our own kind,'* inter- 
 posed Basil. " See how the white man makes the 
 black one work for him here in America. That, how- 
 ever, is the few toiling for the million. In Europe the 
 case is reversed. There, in every country, you see 
 Jhe million toiling for the few — toiling to support an 
 oligarchy in luxurious ease, or a monarch in barbaric 
 •plendor." 
 
THE OSPRAT AND HIS TYRANT. 227 
 
 * But why do they do so ? the fools ! " asked Fran. 
 ;ois, somewhat angrily. 
 
 " Because they know no better. That oligarchy, 
 and those monarchs, have taken precious care to edu- 
 cate and train them to the belief that such is the naiu* 
 red state of man. They furnish them with school- 
 books which are filled with beautiful sophisms — 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 patri- 
 otism in glowing colors, 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 — ea&ily 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 sentiments, 
 for the young republican of Louisiana had already 
 begun to think strongly on political subjects. No 
 doubt Basil would one day be an M. C. 
 
 " The bald eagles have been much blamed for their 
 treatment of the osprays ; 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 ospray has often to plunge beneath the 
 water in the pursuit, and Nature has gifted him wit> 
 
;iJ28 THE OS PRAY AND HIS TYRANT. 
 
 power to do so, which, if 1 am not mistaken, she hai 
 denied to the eagles. The latter are therefore com* 
 pelled, in some measure, to depend upon the former 
 for a supply. But the eagles sometimes do catch the 
 fish themselves, when the water is sufficiently shallow, 
 or when their prey comes near enough to the surface 
 tc enable them to seize it." 
 
 '* Do they ever kill the osprays ? " inquired Fran* 
 9ois. 
 
 " I think not," replied Lucien ; " that would be 
 'killing the goose,' &c. They know the value of 
 their tax-payers too well to get rid of them in that 
 way. A band of osprays, in a place where there hap- 
 pens to be many of them together, have been known 
 to unite and drive the eagles oiF. That, I suppose, 
 must be looked upon in the light of a successful revo- 
 lution." 
 
 The conversation was here interrupted by another 
 incident. The osprays 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 upward, the eagle 
 again left its perch, and gave chase. This time the 
 ospray was overtaken before it had got two hundred 
 yards into the air ; and seeing it was no use attempt- 
 ing to carry off the prey, it opened its claws and let 
 it drop. The eagle turned suddenly, poised himself a 
 mcnaent, 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 
 
•rHK OSPRAY AND IIlS TYRANT, 229 
 
 the trees upon the opposite side. The ospray, taking 
 the thing as a matter of course, 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 ospray 
 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 as- 
 tonishment when, after waiting many seconds, the bird 
 still remained under water ! Minutes passed, and still 
 she did not come up. She came up no more ! The 
 foam she had made in her descent floated away — the 
 bosom of the water was smooth as glass — not a ripple 
 disturbed its surface. They could have seen the 
 smallest object for a hundred yards or more around 
 the spot where she had disappeared. It was impos- 
 sible she could have emerged without their seeing her. 
 Where, then, had she gone ? This, as I have said, 
 puzzled the whole party, and formed a subject of con- 
 jecture 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 his- 
 tory of the ospray unknown to him. Could she have 
 drowned herself? Had some great fish, the " gal 
 pike,'^ or some such creature, got hold of and swal- 
 lowed her ? Had she dashed her head against a rock, 
 or become entangled in weeds at the bottom of the 
 river ? 
 
230 THE OSPRAY AND HIS TYRANT. 
 
 All these questions were put, and various solutijna 
 of the problem were offered. The true one was not 
 thought of, until accident revealed it. It was Satur- 
 day when the incident occurred. The party, of 
 course, 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 
 reembarked and continued down stream. About a 
 mile below, as they were paddling along, their atten- 
 tion 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 their astonishment to see that the talons of the 
 bird were firmly fixed in the back of the fish! It 
 was the female ospray! 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 tb*^ water, and had perished along witt 
 her victim! 
 
THK VOYAGE INTERRDPTED. 231 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 THE VOYAGE INTERRUPTED. 
 
 About ten days' rapid travelling down the Klk 
 River brought our party into the Athabasca Lake — 
 Boraetimes called the "Lake of the Hills." 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 west. It is nearly two hundred mile* 
 long from west to east, and is only fifteen miles ii. 
 breadth, but in some places it is so narrow and full 
 of islands that it looks more like a broad river than 
 a lake. Its shores, and many of its islands, are 
 thickly wooded, particularly upon the southern and 
 western edges ; and the eye of the traveller is delight- 
 ed with many a beautiful vista as he passes alcng. 
 But our voyageurs took littU heed of these things. 
 A gloom had come over their spirits, for one of their 
 party had taken ill, and was suffering from a painful 
 and dangerous disease — an intermittent fever. It 
 was Lucien — he 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 had been getting worse, until, 
 on their arrival at the lake, he declared himself ne 
 longer able to travel. It became necessary, there fore^ 
 
232 THE VOYAGE INTERRUPTED. 
 
 to suspend their journey ; and choosing a place Ibi 
 their camp, they made arrangements to remain uuti) 
 Lucien should recover. They built a small log hut 
 for the invalid, and did every thing to make him aa 
 comfortable as possible. 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. Ev- 
 ery day Francois went forth with his gun, and re- 
 turned 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 ingredients, at the Fort. They 
 bad also brought with 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 exceed- 
 ingly beneficial during his illness. 
 
 To the great joy of all, the 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 dis- 
 tance below Lake Athabasca, and, strange to say, 
 the sources of the Peace River lie upon the western 
 side of the Rocky Mountains, so that this stream actu- 
 ally runs across the mountain-chain ! It passes through 
 the mountains in a succession of deep gorges which 
 
THE VOYAGE INfEKRUl /ED. 233 
 
 ETC terrible to behold. On both sides dizzy clifis and 
 Bnow-capped peaks rise thousands of feet above its 
 rocky bed, and the scenery is cold and desciate. Its 
 head waters interlock with those of several streams 
 that run into the 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 tht 
 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 cheer- 
 ful. 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 jc urn ey. 
 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 
 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 nav- 
 igate them in their canoe. To travel afoot would b6 
 K most laborious undertaking, as well as perilous iv 
 
234 THE VOYAGE INTERRUPTED. 
 
 an extreme de^ee. In this way it is only possible 
 to carry a very small quantity of provision — for the 
 traveller is compelled to load himself with skin-cloth- 
 ing in order to keep out the cold. The chances of 
 procuring game by the way, in that season, are pre- 
 carious, and not to be depended upon. Most of the 
 birds and many of the quadrupeds migrate to mora 
 southern regions ; and those that remain are shy and 
 rare. Besides, great snow-storms are to be encoun- 
 tered, in which the traveller is in danger of get- 
 ting " 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 voyageurs 
 — 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. 
 
 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 comfort- 
 able. 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 
 loB^ and very narrow. It extends full 260 miles fiom 
 
THE VOYAGE INTEllllUPTED. 2Jo 
 
 east to west, but at its widest part is not over thirtj 
 and in some places much li>,ss. Along its northern 
 shores lies the edge of the " Barren Grounds," ard 
 there nothing meets the eye but bleak and naked hills 
 of primitive rock. On its southern side the geology 
 is entirely o^ a different character. There the lime- 
 stone prevails, and scarcely any thing that deservea 
 the nune of hill is to be seen. There are fine forests 
 too, in which poplars, pines, and birches, are the prin- 
 cipal trees. The lake is 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 tor- 
 pid, and are of course hidden in caves and hollow 
 trees, and 3ven 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 dif* 
 ficult rmdertaking. 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 thfc lake. One thing they would have there, 
 which mignt not be found so plenty elsewhere ; that 
 was wood for their fire ; and this was an inducemeni 
 
236 THE VOYAGE INTERRFrTEO. 
 
 to remain by the lake. Having made up thtir minds, 
 therefore, to encamp on some part of it, they locked 
 from day to day for a place that would be most suita- 
 ble, 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 foUoi^v 
 the shore no longer, but strike across to a promontory 
 on the northern shore of the lake known as " Slave 
 Point." This promontory is of the limestone forma- 
 tion, 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 cu- 
 rious 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 connection that exists between the 
 fauna of a country and its geological character. 
 
 Of course they all agreed to Norman's proposal 
 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 
 the J encamped for the night, intending next daj id 
 croad the remaining part. 
 
VlfiHING UNDER THE ICE. 287 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 FISHING UNDER THE ICE. 
 
 On awaking next morning, to their great surpriie, 
 lliey 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 ^l\em, and then they could cross upon it to the 
 northern shore. With this consolation, therefore, 
 they set about making their temporary quarters upon 
 the island as snug as circumstances would permit. 
 Their apprehensions, however, began to return again, 
 when several days had passed over, and the ice neither 
 grew any thinner nor any thicker, but seemed to re- 
 main at a stand-still. In the early part ot the morn- 
 ing it was almost strong enough to bear them ; but dun- 
 ing the day the sun melted it, until it was little better 
 than 8 8cum over the surface of the water. The alarm 
 
238 FlbHlNQ UJNDER THE ICE. 
 
 of our voyageurs increased. Their provisions wer« 
 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 labor as well as danger. The 
 islet was full ten miles from the shore, and they would 
 therefore have to break the ice for ten miles. More- 
 over, to stand up in a bark canoe, so as to get at the 
 work, would be a difficult task. It could not be ac- 
 complished without endangering the equilibrium of 
 the vessel, and indeed without upsetting it altogether. 
 Even to lean forward in the bow would be a perilous 
 experiment ; and under these considerations the idea 
 of breaking a way was abandoned. But their provisions 
 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 wau 
 thinner, for it had not frozen over until a later period. 
 It would have been madness to have risked it you 
 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. 
 
FISHING UNDER THE ICE. 289 
 
 They Aveie about to adopt the desperate expedient, 
 now more difficult than ever, of breaking their wajr 
 through the ice, when, all at once, it occurred Id Nor- 
 man, that, if they could not coax the fish to take a 
 bait, they might succeed better with a net, and cap- 
 ture them against their will. This idea would have 
 been plausible enou.gh, had there been a net ; but 
 there was no net on that islet, nor perhaps within a 
 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 
 tiiese Norman proposed to make a net. He would 
 soon do it, he said, if the others would set to work arid 
 cut the deer-skins into thongs fine enough for the 
 purpose. Two of them, therefore, B«,sil and Lucien, 
 took out 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 both the skins 
 were cut into fine strips, and worked up ; and a net 
 was produced nearly six yards in leiigth by at least 
 fwo 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 soon 
 to have a trial — for the moment it was finished 
 the sinkers were attached to it, and it was carried 
 down to the edge of the water. 
 
 The three " Southerners " had never seen a net 
 Bet under ico — for.* in their country ice is an un» 
 oomiuon thing, and indeed never fieezes of sufficient 
 
2iO FISHIN(J UNDER THE ICK. 
 
 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 tc 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 pro- 
 ceeded cautiously, as the ice creaked under him. Having 
 arrived at the place where he intended to set the net, 
 he knelt down, and with his knife cut several holes 
 in the ice, at the distance of about six feet from each 
 other, and all in one line. He had already provided 
 himself with a straight saphng 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 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 position. 
 At both its upper corners the net was made fast above 
 the ice, and was now " set." Nothing more could be 
 done until the fish came into it of their own accord, 
 when it could be drawn out upon the ice by means oi 
 
FISHING UNDER THE ICE. Ml 
 
 the conl attached ; and, of course, by the same meant 
 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 
 Lad 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 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 thurnping 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 ; " some- 
 thing kicks ; hurrah ! " and with the second " hurrah ! *' 
 a beautiful fish was pulled up through the hole, and 
 landed upon the ice. Aloud "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 hia 
 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 proof. 
 All declared they had never eaten so fine trout in 
 their lives ; but when the condition of their appetites 
 16 
 
242 riSHING UNDER THE ICR. 
 
 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 appetite 
 went, but they were still uneasy for the future. Should 
 they not succeed in taking more fisL — 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 tweiity 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 lake became nearly a foot in thickness. 
 They had no longer any fear of its breaking under 
 their weight; and taking their canoe with all their 
 " traps," they set out to cross over upon the ice. In a 
 few hours they reached the shore of the lake, near the 
 end of the promontory, where they chose a spot, uid 
 encamped. 
 
▲N ODC ALARM. 243 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 AN ODD ALARM. 
 
 The first thing our voyageurs did after choosing a 
 iuitable 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 dexterity. 
 The logs were soon cut and notched, and a small cabin 
 was put up, and roofed with split clapboards. With 
 the stones that lay near the shore of the lake they 
 built a chimney. It was but a rude structure, but it 
 drew admirably. Clay was wanted to " chink " 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 chmate even the smallest 
 hole in the walls will keep a house uncomfortable, 
 and to fill the interstices between the logs, so as to 
 make them air-tight, some soft substance was neces- 
 sary. Grass was suggested, and Lucien went off in 
 search of it. After a while he returned with an arm- 
 ful of half-withered grass, which all agreed would be 
 the very thing; and a large quantity was soon col- 
 lected, as it grew plentifully at a short distance from 
 the cabin. 
 
 They now set to work to stufl' it into the chinks 
 
244 AN ODD ALARM. 
 
 when, to their astonishment, they found that this gra& 
 had a beautiful smell, quite as powerful and as pleasan> 
 as that of mint or thym«» ! 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 pro- 
 fusion 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 to say, at one haul they found no less 
 than five different species in the net ! One kind, a 
 white fish, the Coregonus alhus of natu"*alists, 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 flavor. 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, whirh, 
 from its color, the voyageurs call the " poisson bleu," 
 or blue fish. It is the Coregonus signifer of ichthy- 
 ologists. It is a species of grayling, and frequenta 
 
AN ODD ALARM. 245 
 
 ihai^'TiinDing water, where it will leap at the fly like a 
 troul. 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 ( Gcuius 
 lota). This last is one of the most voracious of the 
 finny tribe, and preys upon all others that it is able to 
 swallow. It devours whole quantities of cray-iish, 
 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 
 unsavory, 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 gravelly ridge, which 
 was thickly covered with a species of pine-trees that 
 •esembled the Scotch fir (Pirncs sylvestris). Thes© 
 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 was the *' scrub " or gray pine (P. BanksU 
 una) — to monopolize the ground wherever it gi owe- 
 
5J4b AN ODD ALARM. 
 
 As Basil passed on, he noticed that many of th« 
 trees were oampletely "barked," particwlarly on the 
 branches ; and small pieces of the bark lay scattered 
 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 
 3overed with fine sand or dust. In this, to his aston- 
 ishment, 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 a voice 
 Bounded in his ears exactly like the cry of a child. 
 This brought 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 curiosity, not unmixed 
 with alarm ; and, stepping forward a few paces, he was 
 about to bend down and 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 proceeded from above him. The creature from 
 which it came was certainly not upon tl e 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 color, about 
 the size of a terrier-dog, with thick, shaggy hair, and 
 
AN ODD ALARM. 247 
 
 clumped up in the fork of the tree, so that its head and 
 feet were scarcely distinguishable. Its odd appear 
 ance, 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 after- 
 wards confessed, "slightly flurried ;" but a moment's 
 reflection told him what the animal was — one of the 
 most innocent and inoffensive of God's creatures — 
 the Canada porcupine. It was this, then, that had 
 barked the scrub pines — for they are its favorite 
 food ; and it was its track — which in reality very 
 much resembles that of a child — that B^i'sil had seen 
 in the sand. 
 
 The first thought of the young hunter was to throw 
 up his rifle, and send a bullet through the ungainly 
 animal ; which, instead of making any effort to escape, 
 remained almost motionless, uttering, 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 better to leave it alone. He knew — for he 
 had heard Lucien say so — that he would find the por- 
 cupine 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, 
 ehould no other game turn up, to return for it ; and, 
 fihouldering his rifle again, he continued his c;>urse 
 through the woods. 
 
 As he proceeded, the timber became thinner. The 
 Bcrub-pines gave place to poplar-trees, with here and 
 kh^re an undergrowth of willows. The trees stood fai 
 
248 AN ODD ALARM. 
 
 apart, and the willows grew only in clumps oj 
 " islands," so that the view was nearly o^en for many 
 hundred yards around. Basil walked oi* with all tlaA 
 silence and watchfulness of a true "st*il" hunter — 
 for, among backwoodsmen, this species of hunting ia 
 80 called. He ascended a low hill, and Aeeping a tree 
 in front of him, looked cautiously over its crest. Be- 
 fore him, and stretching from the bottv/m 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 U, those through 
 which the hunter had been for some time travelling. 
 Here and there, over the plain, there stood trees, far 
 apart from each other, and in no wise mtercepting the 
 view for a mile or more. The ground was clear of 
 underwood, except along the immediate edge cf the 
 lake, which was fringed by a thicket of widows. 
 
 As Basil looked over the hill, he espied a small 
 group of animals near the interior border of the wil- 
 lows. He had never seen animals of the same species 
 before, but the genus was easily told. The tall ant- 
 lered horns, that rose upon the head of one of them, 
 showed that they 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, 
 Lis huge head with its overhanging lip, his short neck 
 with its standing mane, and, above all, the broad pal- 
 mation of the horns themselves, left Basil without any 
 doubt upon his mind that the animals before him were 
 moose-deer — the largest, and perhaps the most awk- 
 ward, of all the deer kind. The one with the antlers 
 was the male or bull-moose. The others were the 
 
AN ODD ALARM. 249 
 
 fenikle and hei 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-bix)wn color — 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 crea- 
 ture 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 ! Nat- 
 uralists are not certain, whether or not it be the same 
 animal with the elk (^Gervus alces) of Europe. Cer- 
 tainly the two are but little, if any thing, different ; 
 but the name "elk" has been given in America to 
 quite another and smaller species of deer — the wapiti 
 (Cervus 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 difiiculty in reaching gras«. 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 
 favorite food is lound at a more convenient height, an<J 
 
250 AN ODD ALARM. 
 
 consists of the young shoots of many species jf tree*. 
 It prefers those of tlie poplar, the birch-tree, and 
 willows, and one kind of these last, the red willow, is 
 its particular favorite. The "striped" ma\)\e (Acer 
 striatum) is also much relished by the moose — hence 
 the name " moose-wood," by which this tree is known 
 among the hunters. It loves also the common water- 
 liliss {Nymyhce) ; and in summer it may be seen 
 wading o'lt into lakes, and plucking up their succulent 
 leaves. It takes to the water also for other purposes 
 — to cool its body, and rid itself of several species of 
 gnats and mosquitoes that at this season torment it 
 exceedingly. At such times it is more easily ap- 
 proached ; and the Indians hunt it in their canoes, and 
 kill it in the water, both with spears and arrows. 
 They never find the moose, however, in large num- 
 bers — 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, followinp; it 
 u})on snow-shoes. These give them the advantage of 
 skimming 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 days* duration ! 
 Sometimes, in deep snow, a dozen or more of these 
 ataimals will be found in one place, where they have 
 gt»t accidentally 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 ap- 
 proached and surrounded — when a general hattiu 
 
AN ODD ALARM. 251 
 
 takes place, in which few or none of the aniniHls aw 
 allowed to escape. 
 
 ] 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 ver} 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 
 savory and delicate kind, and that the long pendulous 
 upper lip is one of the " titbits " of the fur countries. 
 Moreover, the fine hide would be an acceptable addi 
 tion to their stock, as it is the best of all deer-skins for 
 moccasons, as well as snow-shoes — articles which 
 Basil knew would soon be needed. For these reasons 
 he was unusually desirous of killing one of the moose. 
 
 He knew it would ue 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 — aa 
 then the mosquitoes torment these animals to such a 
 degree that they pay less heed to other enemies, and 
 the hunter can more easily approach them. In winter 
 they are always on the alert. Their sense Df smell — 
 as well as of sight and hearing — is acute to an ex- 
 treme degree, and they are cunning besides. They 
 can scent an enemy a long distance oiF — if the wind 
 be in their favor — and the snapping of a twig, or the 
 Blightest rustle of the leaves, is sufficient to start them 
 
252 A.N ODD ALARM. 
 
 off. In tlieir journeyings through the snow, wims 
 they wish to rest themselves, they make a sort oi 
 detour, and, coming back, lie down near the track 
 which they have already 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 — 
 u>r 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 
 which 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. This is called, in hunter 
 phrase, " tossing the feather," and gave Basil the ex- 
 act directron 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 him- 
 Belf. He was not exactly to leeward of the moose ; 
 but, what was better still, the willows that fringed the 
 lake were, for he could see them bending from the 
 deer, as the breeze blew freshly. He knew he could 
 easily get among the willows ; and as they were not 
 yet quite leafless, and, moreover, were interspersed 
 with tall reed grass, they formed a tolerable cover 
 under which he might make his approach. 
 
 Without losing time, then, he made for the willow9| 
 
AH ODD ALARM, 253 
 
 And placing them between himself and the g&me com- 
 menced " approaching " along the shore of the lake. 
 
 He had a full half-hour's creeping — at one time 
 upon his bands and knees — at another, crawling flat 
 upon his breast like a gigantic lizard, and now and 
 then, at favorable 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 — 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 cau- 
 tiously 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 bu- 
 ried. He also caught a glimpse of parts of the other 
 three beyond ; 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 buffkloes 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 
 otif; 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 
 
254 AN ODD ALABU 
 
 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 at \\hich 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 doini 
 behind the willows. No doubt he was dead. 
 
CNCODNTKR WITH A MOOSE. 255 
 
 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 ant- 
 lers in a forward position, sprang upon the hunter! 
 Basil leaped aside to avoid the encounter ; f*nd in the 
 first rush was successful, but the animal ttrned sud- 
 denly, and, coming up a second time, raised his fore- 
 feet high in the air, and struck forward with his long- 
 pointed hoofs. Basil attempted to defend him&elf 
 with his rifle, but the piece was struck out of his 
 hand in an instant. Once more avoiding the fTrward 
 rush of the infuriated 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 he had 
 just time to reach the tree and get around its trunk, 
 when the animal brushed past, teaiing the bark with hia 
 
256 ENCOUNTER WITH A MOOSE. 
 
 sharp antlers. Basil now slipped round the trunk 
 and when the moose again turned himself the twa 
 were on opposite sides of the tree ! The beast, how 
 ever, rushed up, and struck the tree furiously lirat 
 with his brow antlers, and then with his hoofs, utter 
 ing loud snorts, and at intervals a shrill whistling 
 sound that was terrible to hear. The disappointment 
 which the enraged animal felt, at seeing his enemj' 
 thus escape him, seemed to have added to his rage ; 
 and Le 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 situation he would have climbed the tree ; but 
 it happened to be a poplar, without a branch for many 
 feet from the ground, and of too great a girth to be 
 "embraced." He could do nothing, therefore, but 
 remain upon the ground, and keep the tree-trunk be- 
 tween himself and the bull. 
 
 For nearly an hour this lasted, the moose now re- 
 maining at rest for a few minutes, and then making 
 iresh 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 which the hunter had 
 given him was no doubt painful, and kept his resent- 
 ment from cooling. Unfortunately, it was not a morta. 
 wound, as Basil had every opportunity of seeing 
 The bullet had hit the fore-shoulder ; but, after tear 
 ing along the skin, had glai ^rtf ■>'{^ wi*h«ut injuring 
 
ENCOUNTER WITH A MOOSE. 257 
 
 the bone. It had only enraged the bull, without (Tip- 
 pling him in the least degree. Basil began to dread 
 the result. He was becoming faint with fatigue aa 
 well as hunger. When Avould 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 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." He 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 preferrcid 
 " still-hunting " without him. But in his present situ- 
 ation the hunter's apprehensions were stronger than 
 his hopes. Even Marengo might be bafiled 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 morn- 
 ing. There were many chances that no relief migltl 
 reach him from the camp. Impressed with this con- 
 viction, Basil began to feel serious alarm. Not de- 
 spair, however — he was not the boy to despair. Flis 
 17 
 
258 ENCOUNTER WITH A MOOSE. 
 
 mind only grew more alive to the necessity for action, 
 He looked around to discover 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 an 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. 
 
 Li 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 at 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 believed 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 — 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 change his resolution 
 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 the bull been there, he 
 could have sprung after him at the first start ; whereas, 
 when heading the other way, Basil believed he could 
 
EKCOUNTER WITH A MOOSE. 259 
 
 brush close past, and gain an advantage, as the un- 
 wieldy brute, taken by surprise, would require some 
 time in turning himself to give chase. 
 
 The opportunity at length arrived; and nerving 
 himself for the race, the hunter sprang past the moose, 
 brushing 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 its 
 trunk. The moose had followed, and arrived but the 
 momcB t after, snorting and whistling furiously. En- 
 raged at the ruse, it attacked this tree, as it had tho 
 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 started. 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 waa 
 full two hundred yards in width, and extended all 
 along the edge of the thick forest. 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 b« 
 
960 ENCOUNTER WITH A MOOSE. 
 
 safe for the time, and could at least rest himself, foi 
 he was now weak with fatigue. He, therefore, 
 stretched up his hands, and, laying hold of a branch, 
 swung himself up into the 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, now 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 hunting-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 resolution. Leav- 
 ing 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, 
 drawing it along his knee, he trimmed off all the twigs 
 and tops until the branch became a straight 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. This gave him a 
 formidable weapon — for the knife was a " bowie," and 
 had a long blade, with a point like a rapier. He was 
 not slow in using it. Descending again to the lower* 
 most 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 ge*. 
 upon lis four legs again, Basil had thrust it in the neok, 
 
ENCOUNTER WITH A. MOOSE. 2H 
 
 giving full force to the blow. The blood rushed Ibrth 
 in a thick stream, as the jugular vein had been cut by 
 tlie keen bladt ,• and the huge brute was seen to totter 
 in its steps, and then fall with a dull heavy sound te 
 the earth. In a few moments the hunter had the sat* 
 isfaution of perceiving 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 to the moose, 
 and opening the great jaws of the animal, gaged them 
 with a stick. He next unspliced his knife, took off 
 the gristly lips, and cut out the tongue. These he 
 placed in his game-bag, and shouldering his rifle, was 
 about to depart ; when some new idea caused him to 
 halt, put down his gun, and again unsheathe his knife. 
 Once more approaching the carcass, he made an incis- 
 ion near the kidneys ; and having inserted his hand, 
 drew forth what appeared to be a part of the intes- 
 tines. It was the bladder. He then looked around 
 as if in search of something. Presently his eyo 
 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 
 brarches of the tree above, so that the bladder dan- 
 gl xl 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, 
 
262 ENCOUNTER WITH A MOOSE. 
 
 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 aUei 
 — the tongue of the moose was broiled without delay, 
 and, after making a delicious meal 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 breadtli of shovels, 
 weighed over sixty pounds. His carcass was not less 
 than fifteen hundred pounds weight ; and our voya- 
 geurs had to make two journeys to convey the meat 
 to their camp. On the last journey, Francois brought 
 the porcupine as well — having found it vjn the verf 
 same tree where Basil had left it ! 
 
LIFE IN A 1 OG-HUT. 263 
 
 CHAPTER XXVin. 
 LIFE IN A LOO-HUT. 
 
 The log -hut was finished on the 1st of September, 
 «nd 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 afoot would be impossible. 
 In these countries, as already stated, the snow often 
 covers the ground to the depth of 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 singula! 
 
*264 LIFE IN A LOG-HUT. 
 
 Bort of foot-wear — called "snow-shoes" ly the Eng 
 lish, and " rackets " by the Canadian voyageura 
 They are used by all the Indian tribes of the Hud- 
 son's Bay territory ; and were it not for them thes^ 
 people would be confined to one place for monthi 
 together, and could not follow the deer or other gaine 
 As almost all savages are improvident, and non4 
 more so than the North American Indians, wer6 
 chey prevented for a season from going out to hunt, 
 whole tribes would starve. Indeed, many individuak 
 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 recklessly leaving the flesh to the 
 wolves! 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 ludian snow-shoe. 
 It is usually from three to four feet long by about a 
 
LIFE IN A LOG-HUT. 265 
 
 foot wide at the middle pait, 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, 
 cai'efuUy bent and polished with the knife. The slen- 
 der branches of the " scrub-pine " (Finns Banksiana) 
 are esteemed excellent for this purpose, as their wood 
 is light, flexible, and tough in its fibres. This is also 
 a favorite tree, where it grows, to make tent-poles, 
 canoe-timbers, and other implements required by the 
 Indians ; and these people use so much of it for their 
 arrows, that it has received from the Canadian voya- 
 geurs the name oi hois de fleche (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 parch- 
 ment-skin of a deer, and twisted. Sometimes twisted 
 intestines are used, and the netting exactly resembles 
 tliat seen in " rackets " 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 
 the snow of nearly six square feet — more, if re- 
 quired, by making them larger. But this is enough 
 
266 LIFE IN A LO(}-HDr. 
 
 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." Generally, however, the shape is 
 §uch 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 Nor- 
 man 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 encoun- 
 tered the porcupine; and then he and Franpois 
 trimmed them with their knives, and sweated 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. Th-* moose had furnished them with encugh 
 for present use, but that would not last long, as there 
 was no bread nor any thing else to eat with it. Per- 
 sons in their situation require a great deal of meat to 
 sustain them, much more than those who live in greal 
 
MFS IN A LOG-HUT. 267 
 
 fities, who tat a variety of substances, and drink inany 
 kinds of drinks. The heaUhy voyageur is rarely 
 without a keen appetite ; and meat by itself is a food 
 that speedily digests, and makes way for a fresh meal 
 80 that the ration usually allowed to the employes of the 
 fur companies would appear large enough to supply 
 the table of several famihes. For instance, in some 
 parts of the Hudson's Bay territory, the voyageur is 
 allowed eight pounds of buffalo-meat per 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 voyage urs for a very short 
 time, since they have no other substance, such as 
 bread or vegetables, 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 experi- 
 enced ; 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 a? a 
 set of deer-skin blankets, which would be much needed. 
 As soon as the snow-shoes were finished, therefore, 
 Basil and Norman went out each day upon long hunt- 
 ing expeditions, from which they rarely returned be- 
 fore nightfall. Sometimes they brought 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 pai ts with the 
 Bkin, as the flesh of the woodland caribou is not muck 
 
268 LIFE IN A LOG- HUT. 
 
 esteemed. It is larger than the other kuid — thft 
 ** Barren Ground caribou," weighing about one hundred 
 and iifty pounds ; but both its venison and hide are of 
 inferior quality to those of the latter species. Some- 
 times 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 — one grand day when they were extremelj' 
 successful, and on which they killed a whole herd of 
 moose, consisting of five individuals — the old bull, a 
 sj ike 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 run- 
 ning 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 lacer- 
 ated their ankles at every plunge, leaving a track of 
 blood behind them as they ran. Under these cir- 
 cumstances 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 branches, so as to secure them 
 from wolves and wolverenes. When the job was fin. 
 isbed, the whole place looked like a great slaughter- 
 yard ! Next day a rude sledge was constructed ; and 
 the voyageurs, returning in full force, transported the 
 mscit to camp Huge fires were kindled outside th« 
 
LIFE IN A LOG-HUT. 269 
 
 hU, and several days were spent in cutting up and 
 drying the flesh. Had our travellers been certain that 
 the fix)sl would have continued all winter, this would 
 not have been necessary — since the meat was already 
 frozen as hard as a brick. But they knew that a sud- 
 den thaw would spoil it ; and, as ther^e was plenty of 
 good firewood on the spot, they were not going to run 
 the risk of losing it in that way. 
 
 lliey had now enough provision to last them for 
 months ; and hunting became no longer necessary, ex- 
 cept to obtain fresh meat — which was, of course, 
 preferable to the dry^ stock. Hunting, also, gave them 
 exercise and amusement — both of which were neces- 
 sary 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 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 employ- 
 ments.. These days were far from being their dullest ; 
 for, what with the varied and scientific knowledge of 
 fjucien, which he took pleasure in imparting to his 
 companions — what with the practical experience of 
 Norman amid scenes of Arctic life, and the manj 
 
270 LIFE liT A LOG-HUT. 
 
 •* voyageo" tales " he could tell — what with Fran^ m 
 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 voy- 
 ageurs found their in-door days any thing but dull. 
 
 This was all well enougli for a while. For a month 
 or two they bore their odd kind of life cheerfully 
 enough ; but the prospect of nearly six months more 
 of it began to appall them, when they reflected 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 isolation 
 from civilized hfe, and, above all, the being debarred 
 from following any useful pursuit, began to impress 
 8ome 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 pro- 
 posal 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 (Appose, but 
 rather offered the reasons that were against it, and 
 
LIFE IN A LOf»-HUT. 271 
 
 pointed out the perils of the undertaking. Norman, 
 of course, was appealed to — all of them looking ta 
 him as one whose advice, upon that question at least, 
 %vas more valuable than their own. 
 
 Norman admitted the dangers pointed out by Lu- 
 cieu, but believed that they might overcome them by 
 a proper caution. On the whole, Norman approved 
 of the plan, and it was at length adopted. Perhapa 
 Norman's habitual prudence was to some extent in- 
 fluenced on this occasion by the very natural desire 
 he had of returning to what he considered his home. 
 He had now been absent nearly two years, and was 
 desirous of once more seeing his father and his oM 
 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 performing 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 
 oontiniie their journey. 
 
272 TRAVELLING ON SNOW-SHOE^ 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 TRAVELLING ON SNOW-SHOES 
 
 Oncx 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 
 twc 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 Indiana 
 and Esquimaux of these parts is blindness or soreness 
 of the eyes, caused by the reflection of the sunbeams 
 from the crystals of the frozen snow. Norman was 
 aware of this, and had made the spectacles to guard 
 agamst this peril. Out of their spare skins they hud 
 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 thfi 
 
TRAVELLING ON SNOW SHOES. 272 
 
 smallest bulk possible, and this was done, according 
 to the custom of the country, by making " pemmican." 
 The dry moat 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 bard, and 
 the mixture — • that resembled " potted meat " — was 
 now ready for use, and would keep for an indefinite 
 time without the least danger of spoiling. Buffalo- 
 beef, moose-meat, or venison of any sort, thus pre- 
 pared, is called "jt7ewmzcaw," and is more portable in 
 this shape than any other. Besides, no further cook- 
 ing is required — an important consideration upon 
 those vast prairie deserts, where fire-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 occasion. Be- 
 sides 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-col- 
 ored berry — of which we have already spoken — not 
 unlike the whortleberry, but sweeter and of a higher 
 flavor. 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 blos- 
 soms 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 
 treee» of twenty-five feet in height. The berries h&v« 
 18 
 
274 TRAVELLING ON SNOW-SHOES. 
 
 received different names in different parts of America 
 They are known as " shad-berries," " June-berries,*' 
 "service-berries," and by the Canadian voyageuri 
 they are called "le poire." Even the botanists have 
 given them a great variety of names, as pyrus, mespi* 
 lus, aronia, crat<^</us, and amelanchier. No matter 
 which may be the best name, it is enough to know 
 that these little berries are delicious to eat when fresh, 
 and whsn dried, after the manner of currants, are 
 excellent to mix in puddings, as well as in pemmican4 
 
 Previous to the setting in of winter, our voyageurs 
 had collected a large bag-full upon the banks of the 
 Elk, which they had dried and stored away — expect- 
 ing 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 weighing 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 shouldering one, which, 
 along with their guns and accoutrements, would be 
 load enough. 
 
 These arrangements being at length complete, tJ?a 
 party bade adieu to their log-hut — gave a parting 1 jok 
 to their little canoe, which still rested by the door — 
 and then, shouldering their guns and bags of pemmi- 
 fian, set out over the frozen surface of the snow. 
 
 Of course before starting they had decided upon the 
 <oute they were to take. This decision, however, had 
 Aot been ai rived at until after much di&cussion. Lu- 
 cien advised that they should follow the shore of the 
 
TRAVELLING ON SNOW-SHOES. 273 
 
 lake until they should reach the Mackenzie River — 
 which of course was now frozen up. Its channel, lie 
 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 carry- 
 ing with them a warmer climate. 
 
 There was plausibility in Lucien's argument, com- 
 bined with much prudence. Norman, however, ad- 
 vised a contrary course. He said that they would 
 have to make a considerable journey westward before 
 reaching the place where the Mackenzie River flows 
 out of the lake ; and, moreover, he knew that the 
 river itself was very crooked — in some places wind- 
 ing 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 across the country in a north- 
 westerly direction, so as to reach the Mackenzie near 
 where another great stream — the River of the Moun- 
 tains — empties into it from the west. This would 
 certainly 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. Nor- 
 man knew nothing whatever of the route he was 
 advising them to take. His former journeys up and 
 down the Mackenzie had been made in summer, and 
 of course he had travelled by canoe, in company witt 
 
276 TRAVELLING ON SNOW-SHOES 
 
 the traders and voyageure. He oirly knew th&t tc 
 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 re- 
 ceived a practical lesson 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 
 ppirits. 
 
 Their first three or four days' journeys were with- 
 out any event worth being chronicled. They trav- 
 elled full twenty miles each day. The Southerners 
 had become quite skilful in the management 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 meet- 
 ing behind, where they were attached to the head of 
 the sledge. No head-gear was necessary, as Maren 
 go 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 loaA was, of course, carefully packed and tied, so 
 that the overturning of the vehicle did no da mug* 
 
TRAVELLING ON SNOW-SHOES. 277 
 
 w^haiever 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 
 aroided the trees, rocks, and other inequalities. If a 
 rabbit or other creature started up, Marengo knew 
 better than to go galloping after it ; he felt that he 
 had & more important duty to perform than to throw 
 away his time upon rabbit-hunting. Each night a 
 spot was chosen for the camp by the side of somf 
 lake or stream, where wood could be obtained foi 
 their fire. Water was got by breaking a hole in the 
 ice, and the little tent was always set up in a shel- 
 tered situation. 
 
 Upon the fifth day after leaving the log-hut the 
 woods began to grow thinner and more straggling; 
 and towards night of the same day they found them- 
 selves travelling through a country, where the timber 
 only grew here and there in small clumps, and the in- 
 dividual 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 
 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^ 
 
278 TRAVELLING ON SNOW-SHOES. 
 
 equally difficult to cross, and equally dangerous to th« 
 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 fre- 
 quently the destroyer. In the latter there is but little 
 to be feared on the score of water. Tliat exists in 
 great plenty ; or where it is not found, snow supplies 
 its place. But there is water every where. Hill suc- 
 ceeds hill, bleak, rocky, and bare. Every where gran- 
 ite, 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 distinguished under the snow- 
 covered ice. The 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 them- 
 selves 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 reahty. None of them 
 could believe in the difficulties to be encountered, and 
 the desolateness of the scene they were to witness, 
 until now that they found themselves in its midst* 
 
TRAVELLING ON SNOW-SHOES. 279 
 
 aud, as they proceeded on their journey, getting far- 
 ther and farther from the wooded region, their appre- 
 hensions, ah'eady aroused by the wild aspect of the 
 country, grew stronger and stronger. They began to 
 entertain serious fears, for they knew not how far the 
 barren tract extended along their route. On calcu- 
 lation they found they had provisions enough to last 
 them for a month. That in some measure restored 
 their confidence ; but even then, they could not help 
 giving way to serious reflections. 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 advacced, 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 
 fx)ld ; but at this time an incident occurred, that nol 
 only frustrated all their calculations, but placed them 
 XL imminent danger of perishing. 
 
280 THE BARREN GROUNDS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 THE BARREN OROUNIIS. 
 
 The Barren Grounds are not entirely destitute of 
 animal life. Even in winter — when they are almoM 
 covered with snow, and you would suppose that no 
 living creature could procure subsistence upon thera 
 — 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 liv- 
 ing upon it, and such a being Nature adapts to its pe- 
 culiar 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 Esquimaux would not be happy 
 were you to transplant him from his icy hut amidst 
 the snows of 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 naturalists. It is 
 true they prey upon other animals found at times iii 
 the same district ; but wolves have been met with 
 where not the slightest traces of other living creaturoc 
 eould be seen I 
 
TllK BARKfc:N GROUNDS. 281 
 
 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 
 «re 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 conti- 
 nent, 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 — every where the wolf seems 
 equally at home. In North America two very dif- 
 ferent kinds are known. One is the " prairie " or 
 " barking " wolf, which we have already met with and 
 described. The other species is the " common " or 
 " large " wolf; but it is not decided among naturahsta 
 that there are not several distinct species of the latter. 
 At all events, there are several varieties of it — dis- 
 tinguished from each other in size, color, 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 — aa 
 wolves differing in color have been found in the same 
 litter — but late explorers, of the countries around 
 and bejond the Rocky Mountains, have discovered 
 one or two kinds that appear to be specifically distinct 
 from the common wolf of America — one of the m, 
 the " dusky wolf," being much larger. 
 
282 THE BARREN GROUNDS. 
 
 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 conti- 
 nents. Those of the northern regions of America 
 have shorter ears, a broader snout and forehead, and 
 are of a stouter make, than the European 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 pos- 
 sible, 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 
 surface of the snow. The writer of this little book be- 
 lieves 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. Pie believes, moreover, that those of the 
 Bouthern parts of the American continent approximate 
 more nearly to the Pyrenean wolves, as he has seen 
 in the tropical forests of Mexico some that possessed all 
 that "gaunt" form and " sneaking" aspect that char- 
 acterize the latter. It would be interesting to inquire 
 whether the wolves of Siberia and Lapland, inhabit- 
 ing a similar climate to that of the northern parts of 
 
THE BARREN GROUNDS. 288 
 
 America, do not possess the same peculiarities a8 th« 
 Nortli American kind — a point which naturalists 
 have not yet considered, and which you, my boy 
 reader, may some day find both amusement and in- 
 struction in determining for yourself. 
 
 With regard to color the wolves of both continents 
 exhibit many varieties. In North America there are 
 more than half-a-dozen colors of them, all receiving 
 difF(;rent names. There is the "gray wolf," the 
 »* white," the " brown," the " dusky," the " pied," and 
 the "black." These trivial names will give a good 
 enough idea of the colors of each kind, but there are 
 even varieties in their markings. " Yellow " wolves, 
 too, have been seen, and " red " ones, and some of a 
 " CI 3am color." Of all these the gray wolf is the 
 most common, and is par excellence the wolf; but 
 there are districts in which individuals of other colors 
 predominate. Wolves purely black are plenty in 
 many parts, and white woives are often seen in large 
 packs. 
 
 Even those of the same color differ in size, and that 
 to a considerable extent. And, what is also strange, 
 large wolves will be found in one district of country, 
 while much smaller ones of the same color 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 aboiA 
 one-third of the whole length. 
 
 The habits of the American wolf are pretty mnch 
 tike those of his European cousin. He is a beast of 
 ^rey, devouring all the smaller animals he can laj 
 
284 thp: barren irounds. 
 
 hold of. lie pursues and overtakes the deer, and 
 often runs down the fox and makes a meal of it. He 
 will kill and eat 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 tne fox, 
 have several entrances to their holes. A litter of 
 young wolves numbers five puppies, but as many aa 
 eight are often produced at one birth. 
 
 During their journey through the Barren Grounds 
 our voyageurs had frequently observed wolves. They 
 were mostly gray 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 recognized 
 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 fl<tsh, 
 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 they usually did throughout the 
 livelong night. What they found to allure them after 
 our travellers, tho latter could not make out ; as thej 
 
THE BARREN GROUNDS. 285 
 
 fcad not shot an animal of any kind since leaving the 
 lake, and scarcely a scrap of any thing wa-s 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 
 was no wood in the neighborhood wherewith to make 
 a fire ; but they had scraped the 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. Marengo 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 rivulet 
 at the foot of the ridge — some two hundred paces 
 distant — and Basil and Franjois had gone down to it 
 to get water. One of them took the axe to break the 
 ice with, while tiis other carried a vessel. On arriv- 
 ing 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. Upoa 
 this they observed double lines of little dots, running 
 in different directions, which, upon close inspection, 
 
286 THE BARKEN GROUNDS. 
 
 appeared to be the tracks of some animal. At first, 
 Basil and Franfois 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 the 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 living creature, and 
 that a very diminutive one, must have passed over the 
 spot. Indeed, had the snow not been both fine-grained 
 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. It is some animal that has gone 
 iinder the snow, I fancy." 
 
 " But I see no hole," said Francois, " where even 
 - beetle could have gone down. Let us look for one." 
 
 At Francois' suggestion, they walked on following 
 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 appearing above 
 the surface. Round this stalk a little hole had been 
 formed — partly by the melting of the sncw, and 
 partly by the action of the wind upon the panicle — 
 and into this hole the tracks led. It was evident thai 
 
riiE BAiairjN grounds. 28 i 
 
 the animal, whatever it wjls, must liave goae down 
 the culm of the grass in making its descent from the 
 surface of the snow ! They now observed another 
 track going from 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 
 tiacks, he pronounced them at onoe 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 
 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 a while, 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. Pres- 
 ently, 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 
 color 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 od'lest* 
 
2»8 THE BARREN ^ROUNDS. 
 
 looking quadruped that any of the party had evei 
 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 
 of his master, galloped off towards the camp. All 
 of them looked after, wondering what had started 
 the dog ; but his strange behavior was at once ex- 
 l)lauied, and to their consternation. Around the tent, 
 and close to its entrance, several large wolves were 
 seen. They were leaping about hurriedly, and wor- 
 rying some objects that lay upon the ground. What 
 these objects were was too plain. They were the 
 hags of pemmican ! Part of their contents were seen 
 strewed 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 ! " 
 
 It was true. The next moment the wolves dis- 
 appeared over the summit of the ridge ; and although 
 each of the boys had seized his gun, and ran after 
 
THE BARREN GROUNDS. 289 
 
 the pursuit proved an idle one. Not a wolf waff 
 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 suppeiless ; and, wha6 
 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$ 
 
290 THE ROCK-TBIPK 
 
 CHAPTER XXXL 
 
 THE ROCK-TRIPE. 
 
 'jThet left their skin-couch at an early Lour, cioM 
 fcfter daybreak. Hunger and anxiety drove them out 
 of their tent. Not a morsel of any thing for break- 
 fast ! 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 they might 
 travel for days through that inhospitable region, with- 
 out falling in with any thing that would make a &ingle 
 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 jireceding day, the wolves having interrupted 
 their preparations for dinner. 
 
 It was of no use remaining where they were j 90^ 
 
THE ROCK-TRIPE. 291 
 
 striking thcii tent once more, they travelled forward 
 It was but poor consolation to them that they trav- 
 elled much lighter than before. They had nothing to 
 carrj 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 occasionally 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 travelled from near sunrise to sunset — 
 not a Hving thing was seen ; and for the second night 
 they went supperless to bed. 
 
 A man will bear hunger for many days — som« 
 more, some less — without actually dying of it ; but 
 at no period will his sufferings be greater than during 
 the third or fourth day. He will grow more feeble 
 afterwards, but the pain which he endures will not be 
 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 recon- 
 cile a man t4 part with his best friend. In spite of 
 
292 THE ROCK-TRIPE. 
 
 their friendship for Marengo, his masters couLd no! 
 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 any thing. 
 
 It was near midday. They had started early, as 
 on the day before. They were trudging wearily 
 along, and making but little progress. Marengo was 
 struggling with 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 any thing, 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 suffi 
 ciently intelligible to him. He looked at the downcast 
 countenance of the once merry Fran9ois, — at the se- 
 rious air of Norman — at the wan cheek and sunken 
 eye of Lucien, whom Basil dearly loved. He hesi- 
 tated no longer. His duty to his companions at once 
 overcame his aflPection 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. 
 
 Fran9ois also assented to the proposal. 
 
 " Let us make a condition," suggested Lucion ; " 1 
 for one could walk five miles farther.** And as Lu- 
 cien said this, he made an effort to stand erect, and 
 look strong and brave ; but Basil knew it was an eflfort 
 »f generosity. 
 
THE ROCK-TRTPEL 293 
 
 "No," said he, — "no dear Luce. You are done 
 np. We must kill the dog ! " 
 
 * Nonsense, Basil, you mistake," replied the other ; 
 " 1 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 face, 
 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 res- 
 pite. 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 
 some of them made it full ten, as they were deter- 
 mined Marengo should have the benefit of every 
 chance. They deployed like skirmishers ; 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 quadruped 
 or bird. 
 
 " Come ! " cried Lucien in his now feeble voice, stilj 
 trying to look cheerful, *• we must pass through thera 
 
294 THE ROCK-TRIPE. 
 
 There is a chance yet. Let him ha\e fair play. Th» 
 rocks were to be the limit, but it was not stated what 
 part of them. Let us pass through to the other side 
 -~- they do not extend far." 
 
 Encouraged by the words of Lucien, the party en^ 
 tei-cd 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 him for an explana- 
 tion. No animal was in sight. 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 ? " 
 
 "Yes," replied Norman, "look there!" and he 
 pointed to one of the rocks directly ahead of them, at 
 the same time moving forward to it. The others has- 
 tened 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 evi- 
 dently of a vegetable nature. Lucien knew what it 
 was as well as Norman, and joy had expressed itsell 
 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 tliat celebrated species which 
 will sustain human life. It was the Gyrophora. Nor* 
 man con^''med Lucien's statement, and furthermorf 
 
THE ROCK-TRIPE. 295 
 
 Affirmed tliat not only the Indians and Esquimaux, but 
 also parties of voyag^urs, had often subsisted upon it 
 for days, when they would otherwise have starved. 
 There are many species, — not less than five or six. All 
 of them possess nutritive properties, but only one is a 
 \^alatable food — the Gyrophora vellea of botanists 
 Unfortunately, this was not the sort which our voya- 
 geurs had happened upon, as it grows only upon rocka 
 shaded by woods, and is rarely met with in the open 
 buirens. The one, however, which Norman had dis- 
 covered was the " next best," and they were 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 
 A)cks. 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 with a tree during all that day's journey. 
 
 They were now as badly off as ever. The tripe ds 
 roche would be of no more use to them than 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. Ma- 
 rengo was not going to object to the arrangement. ILe 
 looked quite 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 matt(;r. All agreed that the sledge must b«j 
 broken up, and converted into firewood. 
 
296 THE KOCK-TRIPB. 
 
 They were about taking it to pieces, and had alreadj^ 
 ** unhitched" Marengo from it, when Basil, who had 
 walked to the other side of the rocky jumble, cried 
 back tr them to desist. He had espied some willowa 
 at no great distance. Out of these a fire could be 
 made. The sledge, therefore, was let alone for the 
 present. Basil and Franyois immediately started for 
 the willows, while Norman and Lucien remained upon 
 th3 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 waa 
 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 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 
 *ripe de roche when prepared tdong with th« loe of 
 fish, or when boiled in fish liquor. 
 
THE ROCK'TRIPE. 297 
 
 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- 
 eripe. They spread their skins within the tent, and 
 creeping in, kept one another as warm as they could 
 until moniing. 
 
208 THE POLAR HARE AND 
 
 CHAPTER XXXn. 
 
 THE POLA.R HARE AND GREAT SNOWY OWL. 
 
 Of course hunger kept them from sleeping late 
 Ti^ey were up and out of the tent by an early hour 
 .Their fire was rekindled, and they were making prepa- 
 rations 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 itse-lf, which was the " cinereous crow," ( Gar- 
 rulus Canadensis), or, as it is better known, the " whis- 
 key Jack." The latter name it receives from the voya- 
 gears, on account of the resemblance of its Indian 
 appellation, " whiskae-shaw-neesh " to the words " whis- 
 key John." Although sometimes called the " cinere- 
 ous crow," the bird is a true jay. It is one of the 
 most inelegant of the genus, being of a dull gray color, 
 and not particularly graceful in its form. Its plumage, 
 moreover, 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 (.ase 
 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 Baj 
 
GREAT SNOWY OWL. 29S 
 
 ktJiritory, where "whiskey Jack" is not familiarly 
 known. He is far from being a favorite, however, as, 
 like his near relative the magpie, he is a great thief, 
 arj3 will follow the marten-trapper all day while bait- 
 ing his traps, perching upon a tree until the bait is set, 
 and then pouncing down, and carrying it off. He 
 frequently pilfei 5 small articles from the forts and en- 
 campments, and is so bold as to enter the tents, and 
 seize food out of any vessel that may contain it. Not- 
 withstanding all this, he is a favorite 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 pitched, before he re- 
 ceives 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 mat endears him to 
 the lonely traveller. 
 
 At many of their camps our Vvyageurs had met 
 with this singular bird, and were always glad to re- 
 ceive him as a friend. They were now doubly de- 
 lighted 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 
 eight of another " whiskey Jack," — which was hop- 
 ping among the rocks at some distance — and fearin|^ 
 that Fran9ois' shot might frighten it away, had 
 hindered him from firing. It was Norman's desigrn 
 to get both. 
 
800 THE POLAR HARE AND 
 
 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, and 
 quietly lo:>king into it, appeared to scrutinize its con - 
 tents ! 
 
 The boys could not think of any way of getting the 
 birds, except by Fran9ois' 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 tho 
 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 something vnder 
 present circumstances ; and, with the tripe de rocke, 
 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 wilderness of 
 snow. 
 
 During that whole day not a living creature glad- 
 dened their eyes. They saw nothing that was eat- 
 able — fish, flesh, fowl, or vegetable. Not even a bit 
 
GREAl SNOWY OWL. 801 
 
 rf rook-trlpe — in these parts the last i esourcc of 
 starving men — could be met with. They encamped 
 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 convere^a- 
 tion. Should they kill him on the spot or go a little 
 farther ? That was the question. Lucien, as before, 
 interposed in his favor. There was a high hill many 
 miles off, and in their proper 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 — Marengc 
 toiling on after them. The dog looked downcast 
 and despairing. He really appeared to know the 
 conditions that had been made for his life. Hia 
 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 af the hill, 
 and stood upon the summit. They gazed forward 
 with disappointed feelings. The hill-top was » <«K>rt 
 
302 THE rOLAR HARE AND 
 
 of table plain, of about three hundred yards m 
 diameter. It was covered with snow, nearly a foo< 
 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. 
 
 " You must do it ! *' said Basil, speaking to Norman 
 in a hoarse voice, and turning his head away. Lucien 
 and Francois 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 ! It was the shadow 
 of a bird upon the wing. The simultaneous exclama- 
 tion of all three stayed Norman's finger — already 
 pressing upon the trigger — and the latter, turning 
 round, saw tiiat 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 sv«an 
 
QKEAT SNOWY OWL. 303 
 
 It was white all over — both body and wings — . 
 white as the snow over which it was sailing. Nor- 
 man 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. It was 
 the " great snowy i wl " of the Arctic regions. 
 
 Its appearance suddenly changed the aspect of 
 affairs. Norman let the but of his rifle fall to the 
 ground, and stood, like the rest, watching the bird in 
 its flight. 
 
 The snowy owl {Strix nyctea) 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 color 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, ia 
 completely hidden under a mass of feathers that cover 
 its face, and not even a point of its whole body ig 
 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 their conge- 
 ners in this respect. They hunt by day, even during 
 
804 THE POLAR HARE AND 
 
 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 duration ? 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 terri- 
 tory of the 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. Fran- 
 9ois 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 cir- 
 cling once or twice over the hill, uttered a loud cry 
 and flew off. 
 
 Its cry resembled the moan of a human being in 
 distress ; and its effect upon the minds of our travel- 
 lers, in the state they then were, was far from being 
 pleasant. They watched the bird with despairing 
 looks, until it was lost against the white background 
 of a snow-covered hill. 
 
 They had noticed that the owl appeared to be just 
 taking flight 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 
 \xad not seen it. No doubt, reflected they, it had bees 
 
GREAT SNOWY OWL. 80d 
 
 near enojgh, but its color had rendered it ^iidistiii- 
 guishable from the snow. 
 
 " What a pity ! " exclaimed Fran9ois. 
 
 While making these reflections, and sweeping their 
 glances around, an object caught their eyes that caused 
 Bome 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 
 BDOw ; but upon closer mspection, two little round 
 spots of a dark color, and abcvc .nese '^wo 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 the black marks above them were tips of a 
 pair of ^ery long ears. 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 color of the animal, but more espe- 
 cially 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." 
 
 20 
 
506 THE POLAR HARE AND 
 
 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 yVom her. His course, however, bent gradually 
 into a circle of which the 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 
 completed ont circumference, he began to shorten the 
 diameter — so tnat the curve which he was now fol- 
 lowing 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 other- 
 wise, the hare would have been frightened at the 
 moving shadow, and would have sprung out of her 
 form, before he could have got within range. 
 
 When he had made some four or five circuits, Nor- 
 man moved slower and slower, and then stopped 
 nearly opposite to where the others were. These 
 Btood watching him with beating hearts, for they knew 
 that the life of Marengo, and perhaps their own aa 
 well, depended on the shot Norman had chosen hia 
 place, so that in case the hare bolted, she might run 
 towards them, and give them the chance of a flying 
 ehot. His gun was already at his shoulder — hia 
 finger rested on the trigger, and the boys were expect- 
 ing the report, when again the shadow of a bird 
 
GREAT SNOWY OWL. 807 
 
 flitted over the snow, a loud humai-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 hei 
 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 detonations of a shot gun. All eyes were 
 turned towards Fran9ois, who, like a little god, stood 
 enveloped in a halo of blue smoke. Franfois was the 
 hero of the hour. 
 
 Marengo rushed forward and seized the struggling 
 owi, that snapped its bill at him like a watchman's 
 rattle. But Marengo did not care for that ; and seiz- 
 ing 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 
 balking 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 yef 
 
308 POLAR HARE AND GREAT SNOWY OWL. 
 
 beat faintly, and the light of life was still shining 
 from its beautiful honey-colored 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 shel- 
 ter of the hiU. 
 
 " There must be some wood in this quarter,** re- 
 marked Norman : " I never knew this sort of hare 
 far from timber.*' 
 
 " True," said Lucien, " the Polar hare feeds upon 
 willows, arbutus, and the Labrador tea-plant. Some 
 of these kinds must be near. 
 
 While they were speaking, they had reached the 
 brow of the hill, on the opposite side from where they 
 had ascended. On looking into the valley below, to 
 their great joy they beheld some clumps of willows, 
 and good-sized trees of poplar, birch, and spruce-pine 
 {^Pinus alba)y and passing down the hill, the travellers 
 soon stood in their midst. Presently was heard the 
 chipping sound of an axe and crash of falling timber, 
 and in a few moments after a column of smoke was 
 Been soaring up out of the valley, and curling cheep- 
 fully towards the bright bl b€ sky. 
 
THE JUMPING MOUSE. ETC. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 THE JUMPING MOUSE AND THE ERMINE. 
 
 Labgk as tbe hare was, she would have made but 
 k OiCtJ fcr our four hungry voyageurs, had they eaten 
 at wilL By Lucien's advice, however, they restrained 
 themselves, and half of her was left for supper, when 
 the " cook " promised to make them hare-soup. The 
 head, feet, and other spare bits, fell to Marengo'a 
 share. The owl, whose flesh was almost as white as 
 its plumage, and, as Norman well knew, most delicate 
 eating, was reserved for to-morrow's breakfast. 
 
 They had pitched their tent with the intention ol 
 remaining at that place all night, and continuing theii 
 journey next day ; but, as it still wanted several hourt 
 of sunset, and the strength of all was considerably 
 recruited, they resolved to hunt about the neighbor 
 hood 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 
 ft 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 considerable skirt- 
 ing of timber around it — consisting, as we have said, 
 
BIO THE JUMPING MOUSE AND 
 
 of willows, poplars, spruce-pine, and dwarf birch-trees 
 (Betula na7ia). 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 
 (Zec?M7w/?a/w5^re) was found upon the low ground around 
 the lake. The leaves of this last is a favorite food of 
 the Polar hare, and our voyageurs had no doubt but 
 that there were many of these animals in the neigh- 
 borhood. Indeed, they had better evidence than con- 
 jecture, for they saw numerous hare-tracks in the 
 enow. There were tracks of other animals too, for it 
 is a well-known fact that where one kind exists, at 
 least two or three others will be found in the 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 boihng, 
 and the " cook " sat listening to the cheerful sounds 
 that issued from the pot — now and then taking off the 
 lid to examine its savory contents, and give them a 
 Btir. 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, hia 
 attention 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 sho-ltei 
 
THE ERMINE. 511 
 
 of the hill, extended all around its base, presenting 8 
 Bteep 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 
 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 color. 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 whiteness. It was, 
 in fact, the " white-footed mouse" (Miis leucopus), one 
 of the most beautiful of its kind. 
 
 Here and there above the surface of the snow pro- 
 truded 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 assisted itself by pressing 
 its tail — in which it possesses muscular power--' 
 against the snow. This p'^/culiar mode of progression 
 
312 THE JUMPING MOUSE AND 
 
 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 Mas 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 satis- 
 faction. He had ceased to think of it, and would, per- 
 haps, 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 differ- 
 ent 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 form of the weasel, and it was, in fact, a spe- 
 cies 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 cov 
 ered with black silky hair. On some parts of the 
 body, too, the white was tinged with a primrose yel- 
 low ; but this tinge is not found in all animals of thii 
 species, as some individuals are pure wbite. Of 
 
THE ERMINE. 318 
 
 course, it was now in its winter "lobes ;" but in the 
 summer it changes to a color 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 coming from the same direc- 
 tion from which the mouse had come. Now and then 
 it paused a while, and then ran on again. Lucien ob- 
 served that it kept its nose to the ground, and as i* 
 drew nearer he saw that it was following on the samo 
 path which the other had taken. To his astonishment 
 he perceived that it was trailing the mouse ! Wher- 
 ever the latter had doubled or made a detour, the 
 ermine followed the track ; and where the mouse had 
 given one of its long leaps, there the ermine would 
 stop, and, after beating about until it struck the trail 
 again, would resume its onward course at a gallop. 
 Its manoeuvres were exactly like those of a hound 
 upon the fresh trail of a fox! 
 
 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 Mas leucovus is the natu- 
 ral 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 forward to seize it — it leaped up, and 
 endeavored to escape by flight, Tta flight appeared to 
 
314 TIiE JUMPING MOUSE, ETC. 
 
 be in alternate jumps and runs, but the chase was not 
 a long one. The ermine was as active as a cat, andf 
 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 
 Bound was produced by the teeth of the ermine brci^ 
 ^ through the skull of it8 yictim. 
 
TBK ARCTIC i'OX AND WHITE WOLF. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 THB ARCTIC FOX AND WHITE WOLF. 
 
 LuciEN turned round to get hold of his rifle, in* 
 ^ending to punish the ermine, although the little crea* 
 ture, in doing what it did, had only obeyed a law of 
 nature. But the boy had also another design in killing 
 it : he wished to compare it with some ermines he had 
 seen while travelling upon Lake Winnipeg, which, aa 
 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 weasel ; 
 for in its winter dress, in the snowy regions, the latter 
 very much resembles the ermine; and, indeed, the 
 trappers make no distinction between them. 
 
 With these ideas Lucien had grasped his gun, and 
 was raising himself to creep a Httle nearer, when hia 
 eye was arrested by the motions of another creature 
 coming along the top of the wreath. This last was a 
 snow-white animal, with long, shaggy fur, sharp- 
 pointed snout, erect ears, and bushy taiL Its aspect 
 was fox-like, and its movements and attitudes had all 
 that semblance of cunning and caution so characteristic 
 of these animals. Well might it, for it wa^ a fox — 
 the beautiful white fox of the Arctic regions. 
 
 It is commonly supposed that there are but two oi 
 
316 THE ARCTIC FOX AND 
 
 three kinds of foxes in America ; and that these ar« 
 only varieties of the European species. 
 
 Tliis 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 
 northerL regions, and which in winter is white. 
 
 The " sooty fox " is a variety of the " Arctic,*' dis* 
 tinguished from it only by its color, which is of a 
 uniform blackish brown. 
 
 The "American fox" {Vulpes fulvus), or, a.B it is 
 commonly called, the " red fox," has been long sup- 
 posed to be the same as the European red fox. This 
 is erroneous. They differ in many points ; 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 othei 
 furs found in America, with the exception of the sea- 
 otter. The animal itself is so rare that only a few 
 fail into the hands of the Hudson's Bay Company ui 
 
WHITE WOLF. SI 7 
 
 A season ; and Mr. Nicholay, the celebrated London 
 furrier, asserts that a «ingle skin will fetch from ten 
 to forty guineas, according to quality. A remarkable 
 cloak, or pelisse, belonging to the Emperor of Russia, 
 and made out of the skins of silver-foxes, was exhi- 
 bited in the Great London exposition of 1851. L 
 was made entirely from the neck part of the skins — 
 the only part of the silver-fox which is pure black 
 This cloak was valued at 3400Z. ; though Mr. Nicho 
 lay considers this an exaggerated estimate, and states 
 its true value to be not over 1000/. George the 
 Fourth had a lining of black fox-skins worth 1000/. 
 
 The " gray fox " is a more southern species than 
 any already described. Its proper home is the tem- 
 perate zone covered by the United States ; although 
 it extends its range into the southern parts of Canada 
 In the United States it is the most common kind, 
 al though 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 
 nakes its burrows far from any wood. It is extremely 
 shy, and the swiftest animal in the prairie country — 
 outrunning even the antelope ! 
 
 When Lucien saw the fox he thought no more of 
 the ermine, but drew back and crouched down, 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 fool, particularly by persons situated ad 
 
818 THE ARCTIC FOX AND 
 
 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 zigz.'ig lines, 
 " quartering" the ground like a pointer dog. Pres- 
 ently it struck the trail of the ermine, and w'th a 
 yelp of satisfaction followed it. This of course brought 
 it close past where Lucien was ; but, notwithstanding 
 his eagerness 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 belief, 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 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 th* 
 open jaws of the fox were within a few paces of it — 
 and after fnaking a short quick run along the surface, if 
 threw up its hind-quarters, and plunged head-foremoal 
 into the snow ! The fox sprang forward, and flniging 
 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 disturbed 
 above the spot where they had gone down, but th< 
 
WHITE WOLF. 51S 
 
 next moment all was still, and no evidence exi:;ted 
 that a li-v ing creature had been there, except the 
 tracks, and the break the two creatures had made in 
 going down. Lucien ran forward ui til he was within 
 a few yards of the place, and stood watching the hclep 
 with his rifle ready — thinking that the fox, at lea^jt, 
 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 considerable distance, 
 quite fifty paces, from where he stood. The frozen 
 crust was seen to upheave : and, the next moment, 
 the head of the fox, and afterwards his whole body, 
 appeared above the surface. Lucien saw that the 
 ermine lay transversely between his jaws, and was 
 quite dead ! He was about to fire, but the fox, sud- 
 denly 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 
 ascertain 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-wliite color, 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 bach 
 
520 THE ARCTIC FOX AND 
 
 ward& as he ran, had not seen the wolf, until the lattei 
 was within a few springs of him ; and now when he 
 had turned, and both were in 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 farther, before Lucien perceived that the 
 wolf was fast closing on the fox, and would soon cap- 
 ture 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 
 ilthough 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 ! 
 
 Renard was seen to struggle and kick, while he 
 squeaked like a shot puppy ; but his cries each mo- 
 ment grew feebler, and his struggles soon came to an 
 end The wolf held him transversely in his jaws — 
 just as he himseL. but the moment before had carritd 
 the ermine. 
 
 Lucien saw there was no use in following them, as 
 the wolf ran on with his prey. With some disappoint- 
 ment, therefore, he was about to return to the fire, 
 where, to add to his mortification, he knew he would 
 find his 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. Renard looked limber am? 
 
WHITK WOLF. 321 
 
 ioad, as his legs swung loosely on both aides 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 
 \ ictim in his jaws, and lay half doubled up, and quite 
 
 Btill. 
 
 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 following was 
 heard the sharp crack of a rifle. Then a head with 
 its cap of raccoon skin appeared above the snow, and 
 Lucien, recognizing the face of Basil, ran forward tc 
 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 circum- 
 stances of that strange scene of death. First there 
 was the great gaunt body of the wolf stretched along 
 the snow, and quite dead. Crossways 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 ! 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 obedience to the laws of 
 Nature and necessity. Man himself obeys a similar 
 law, as Basil had just shown. Philosophize as we 
 will, we cannot comprehend why it is so — why Nature 
 21 
 
S22 THE ARCTIC FOX AND 
 
 requires the sacrifice of one of her creatures for th 
 sustenance of another. But although we cannot un 
 derstand 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 oc?n- 
 Biitutes a crime. They who think so, and who, in 
 consistency with their doctrines, confine themselves to 
 what they term " vegetable " food, are at best but 
 shallow reasoners. They have not studied Nature 
 very closely, else would they know that every time 
 they pluck up a parsnip, or draw their blade across 
 the leaf of a lettuce, they cause pain and death ! 
 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 proportion to the pain which it endures ; and it 
 is highly probable that this double line of ratios runs 
 in an ascending scale throughout the vegetable king- 
 dom, gradually joining on to what is more strictly 
 termed the " animal." But these mysteries of life, 
 my young friend, will be interesting studies for you 
 when your mind becomes matured. 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, yoii 
 
WHITE WOLF. 823 
 
 will look back to him as one you had passed 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 dis- 
 charged 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 
 — -HQt the Polar hare — but a much smaller kind, also 
 an inhabitant of these snowy regions ; and over his 
 shoulders was slung a fierce-looking creature, the great 
 wildcat 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 does 
 not migrate, like its congeners the " white-head " and 
 the ospray, 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* 
 " hurrah " sounded upon their ears, and Franjois 
 himself was seen coming up the valley loaded like a 
 little donkey with two bunches of large snow-white 
 ^irds. 
 
 The camp now exhibited a cheering sight. Such a 
 \-ariety 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. 
 
524 THE ARCTIC FOX AND WHITE WOLF. 
 
 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 ; and then the party all 
 sat around their log-fire, while each of ihem detailed 
 the history of his experience since paning with the 
 others. 
 
 Fran9ois was the first to relate whay Uad beikllftB 
 him 
 
THE JERFALCON, ETC. 325 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 THE JBllFA'XON AND THE WHITE GROUBK 
 
 " Mine," began Fran9ois, " was a bird adventure, 
 M you all »t3 — though what kind of birds I've shot 
 /can't tell. One of them's a hawk, I'm sure ; but it's 
 a whit? haw, and that I never saw before. The rest, 
 I suppose, a.' t white partridges. Every thing appears 
 to be white ? tr?. What are they, Luce ? " 
 
 " You are v'^ht about this first," answered Lucien^ 
 taking up ono <! the birds which Fran9ois had brought 
 back wiA hin?. and which was white all but a few 
 spots of clove-l: own upon its back. " This is a hawk, 
 as you may lel; b^ its appearance, or rather I should 
 say a ' falcon,* '^ r you must know there is a differ- 
 ence." 
 
 " What differer e? " demanded Franfois, with some 
 eagerness of man er. 
 
 " Why, the prikicipal difference is the formation of 
 their beaks or bills. The bills of the true falcons are 
 stronger, and have a notch in the lower mandible an- 
 swering to a tooth in the upper one. Their nostrils, 
 too, are differently formed. But another point of dis- 
 tinction is found in their habits. Both feed on 
 warm-blooded animals, and neither will ea't carrion. 
 In this respect the hawks and falcons are alike. Both 
 take their prey upon the wing ; but herein lies /ha 
 
326 THE JERFALCON AND 
 
 difference. The hawks capture it by skimming along 
 horizontally or obliquely, and picking it up as they 
 pass ; whereas the true falcons * pounce ' down upon 
 it from above, and in a line nearly vertical." 
 
 "Then this must be a true falcon," interrupted 
 Fran9ois, " for I saw the gentleman do tliat very 
 thing ; and beautifully he did it, too." 
 
 "It is a falcon," continued Lucien; "and of the 
 many species of hawks which inhabit North America 
 — over twenty 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 soiith as the territory of the United 
 States, much less into Louisiana. 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 'jerfalcon,' or 
 *gyrfalcon,' but its zoological name is Falco Islari' 
 di'cus." 
 
 " The Indians here," interposed Norman, " call it 
 by a name that means ' winter bird,' or ' winterer ' — 
 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 some- 
 times call it the * speckled partridge-hawk,' for there 
 are some of them more spotted than this one is." 
 
 " True," said Lucien ; " the young ones are nearly 
 of a brown color, and they first become spotted or 
 mottled after a year or two. They are several years, 
 old before they get the white plumage, and very few 
 individuals are seen of a pure white all over, though 
 there are some without a spot. 
 
THE WHITE GROUSE. 827 
 
 •* Yes," continued the naturalist, " it is the jerfaleon 
 luid those other birds which you call 'white par- 
 tridges,* are the very creatures upon which it preys. 
 So you have killed both the tyrant and his victims. 
 They are not partridges though, but grouse — thai 
 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. 
 
 " Ho ! " exclaimed Lucien, in some surprise, " you 
 have two kinds here ! Were they all together when 
 you shot them ? " 
 
 " No," answered Fran9ois ; " 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 difference between them that I 
 can se^." 
 
 " But I can," said Lucien, " although I acknowledge 
 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 ; ' but they are not tne 
 true ptarmigan ( Tetrao mutus) — such as exist in 
 North Europe — though these last are also to be met 
 with in the northern parts of America. The ptar- 
 migan are somewhat larger than either of these kindA 
 but in other respects differ but little from them. 
 
828 THE JERPALCON AND 
 
 " The liaoits of the * rock ' and * willow ' grouse are 
 very similar. They are both birds of the snowy re- 
 gions, 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 wooded countries ; 
 whereas the others like best to live in the open ground, 
 and, from your statement, it appears you found each 
 kmd in its favorite 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 falcon as you call it, hovering in the air as I'd often 
 seen hawks 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 ' whir-r-r^ and 
 up started a whole covey of white partridges — grouse, 
 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 
 •till saw the hawk hovering in the air, abo it a 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 be 
 
THE WHITE GROUSE. S29 
 
 fieved, of course, they were still under the place 
 where the holes were. All at once I noticed a move- 
 ment on the crust of the snow right under where the 
 hawk was flying, and then that individual 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, determined to take him as 
 soon as he should make his appearance. When I 
 had got within shooting distance, up he fluttered to 
 the surface, and, — what do you think ? — he 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 dis- 
 tance off, covered with great white things, that at first 1 
 took for flakes of snow ; 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 
 Ibe same I had just seen, and was then in search of. 
 So I crept in among the trees ; and, after some dodg 
 ing, got within beautiful shooting distance, and gave 
 them both barrels. There, you see the result ! * 
 
 Here Franjois triumphantly pointed to the pile of 
 
330 THE JERFALCON, ETC. 
 
 birds, which in all, with the jerfalcon, counted four 
 brace and a half. 
 
 One was the rock-grouse, which the falcon had 
 itself killed, and the others were willow-grouse, as 
 Lucien had stated. Francois new remained silenti 
 while Basil related his day's adventure. 
 
THE HARE, THE LYNX, ETC. 331 
 
 i:iIAPTER XXXVI. 
 THE HARE, THE LYNX, Ai^B THE GOLDEN EAGLB 
 
 ** Frank," began he, " has called his a ' bird ad- 
 venture.* 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 
 favorite food of the American 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 followed it. It kept me meandering about for a 
 long 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 made 
 its appearance right before me. It was that fellow 
 
332 THE HARE, THE LYNX. AlND 
 
 there ! " And Basil pointed to the lynx. ** I though 
 at first sight," continued he, " it was our Louisiana 
 wildcat or bay lynx, as Luce calls it, for it is very 
 like our cat ; but I saw it was nearly twice as big, and 
 more grayish in the fur. Well, when I first sighted 
 the creature, it was about a hundred yards off". It 
 hadn't seen me, thougli, 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 for- 
 ward, and setting Marengo after it. Then I deter- 
 mined on staying where 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, in- 
 stead of following a straight line, it was moving in a 
 circle ! 
 
 " The diameter of this circle was not over a hun- 
 dred 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 con- 
 tinued 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 nothmg — at least 
 
THE GOLDEN EAGLE. 833 
 
 nothing tliat might be supposed to attract the cat. 
 There was a very small bush of willows, but they 
 w(ire thin. I could see distinctly through them, and 
 there was no creature there, either in the bush ui 
 around it. The snow lay white up to the roots of the 
 willows, and I thought that a mouse could 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 care- 
 fully examined every inch of the ground as my eyes 
 passed over it. This time I discovered what the ani- 
 mal was after. Close in to the willows appeared two 
 little parallel streaks of a dark color, just rising above 
 the surface of the snow. I should not have noticed 
 them had there not been two of them, and these slant- 
 ing 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 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. 
 
33^ TUJb HARE, THE LYNX, AND 
 
 '' C course my reflections did not occupy all the 
 time I have taken in describing them. Only a mo- 
 ment 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 manoeu^ red to get within shot of the 
 Polar hare ; and I now saw the very same mse being 
 piactised by a dumb crea+ure, that is supposed to 
 have no other guide than instinct. But I had seen 
 the 'bay lynx' of Louisiana do some * dodges' as 
 cunning as that, — such as claying his foet 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. Believing that 
 his northern cousin was just as artful a» himself" 
 (here Basil looked significantly at the " Captain,") " J 
 did not so much wonder at the performance J now 
 witnessed. Nevertheless, I felt a great curiosity to 
 see it out. But for this curiosity I could have shot 
 the lynx every time he passed me on the nearer edge 
 of the circle. Round and round he went, then, until 
 he was not twenty feet from the hare, that, strange tc 
 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 together, 
 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 
 
TJIE GOLDEN EAGLE. 33d 
 
 prevented me for a while from seeing either l^ nx or 
 hare. The scream was stifled in a moment, and when 
 the snow-spray cleared off, 1 saw that the lynx held 
 the hare under his paws, and that * puss ' was ^uite 
 dead. 
 
 " I was considering how I might best steal up with- 
 in shooting distance, when, all at once, I heard anothei 
 Bcream of a very different sort. At the same time a 
 dark shadow passed over the snow. I looked up, and 
 there, witliin 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 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 immense size, how 
 ever, showed that it could not be one of these. It 
 must be the great ' golden ' eagle of the Rocky Moun- 
 tains, 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 astonishment ii 
 broke suddenly out of the circles in which it had been 
 so gracefully wheeling, and, with another scream 
 wilder than before, darted down towards the lynx ! 
 
 " The latter, on hearing the first cry of the eagle, 
 nad started, dropped his prey, and looked up. In the 
 eagle he evidently recognized an antagonist, for hia 
 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. 
 
336 THE HARE, THE LYNX, AND 
 
 " 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,' nor yet p 
 fishing eagle of any sort, 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 evidently 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 fly 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 attack- 
 ing 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 
 fur and feathers flew in every direction, and sometimes 
 the combatants were so covered with the snow-spray 
 that I could see neither of them. 
 
 " I watched the conflict for several minutes, until il 
 occurred to me, that my best time to get near enough 
 for a shot was just while they were in the thick of it. 
 
7HE GOLDEN EAGLE. 837 
 
 imd not likely to heed me. I therefore moved silently 
 out of the bushes ; and, keeping Marengo in the strings 
 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 oil, and I 
 now saw that one of its wings was disabled ! He was 
 still strong enough, however, to scratch Marengo 
 severely 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 inter- 
 val, during which some fresh wood was chopped and 
 thrown upon the fire, Norman, in turn, commenced 
 reifying wnat had befallen him. 
 22 
 
838 THE " ALARM BIRD " AND 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVn. 
 THE * ALARM BIRD" AND THE CARIBOU. 
 
 "There wasn*t much * adventure' in my day^i 
 sport," said he, " though I might call it a * bird-adven- 
 ture ' too, for if it hadn't been for a bird I shouldn't 
 have had it. I shot a deer — that's all. But may be 
 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 directicn he had taken, as 
 Basil and Francois had gone right and left. 
 
 " I saw neither bird, beast, nor track, until I had 
 reached the top of the hill. There I got a good view 
 of the country ahead. I saw it was very rocky, 
 without a stick of timber, and did not look very 
 promising for game. * It's no use going that way, 
 I says to myself; *ril keep along the ridge, above 
 where Frank's gone. He may drive some varmint 
 out of the hollow, and I'll get a crack at it, as it comes 
 over the hill.' 
 
 " I was about to turn to the left when I heard the 
 skreek of a bird away ahead of me. I looked in that 
 direction ; and, sure enough, saw one wheeling about 
 ,n the air, right above the rocky jumble with which 
 the country was covered 
 
THE CARIBOO. 338 
 
 " 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 bawks, both in shape and 
 habits. This peci'Uarity 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 resem- 
 ble these birds. They want the very broad faces and 
 large tufted heads of the true owls ; besides the ears, 
 which in the latter are remarkable for their size, and 
 also for being operculated, or with lids, in the former 
 are not much larger than in other birds of prey. The 
 small hawk'Owl (Strix funerea), which is altogether 
 a northern bird, is one of this kind." 
 
 " Very well," continued Norman, " what you say 
 may be very true, cousin Luce ; I only know that the 
 bird I am speaking about is a mighty curious littl« 
 creature. It ain't bigger than a pigeon, and is of a 
 mottled brown color; but what I call it curious for is 
 this : — Whenever it sees any creature passing from 
 place to placQ, it mounts up into the air^ and hovers 
 above them, keeping up a constant screeching, like the 
 squalling of a child — and that's any thing but agree 
 able. It does so, not only in the neighborhood of its 
 nest — like the plover and some other birds — but it 
 will sometimes follow a travelling party for hours 
 together, and for miles across the country From thii 
 
840 THE "ALARM BIRD" AND 
 
 circumstance the Indians of these parts call it the 
 * alarm bird/ or *bird of warning,' because it often 
 makes them aware of the approach either of their 
 enemies or of strangers- Sometimes it alarms and 
 startles the game, while the hunter is crawling up to 
 it ; and I have known it to bother myself for a while 
 of a day, when I was after grouse. It's a great favor- 
 ite with the Indians, though — as it often guides them 
 to deer, or musk-oxen, by its flying and screaming 
 above where these animals are feeding. 
 
 " Just in the same way it guided me. I knew, frora 
 the movements of the bird, that there must be some* 
 thing among the rocks. I couldn't tell what, but I 
 hoped it would turn out to be some creature that was 
 eatable ; so I changed my intention, and struck out for 
 the place where it was. 
 
 "It was a good half mile from the hill, and it cost 
 me considerable clambering over the rocks before I 
 reached the ground. I thought to get near enough to 
 see what it was, without drawing the bird upon my- 
 self, 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 what- 
 ever had first set it a-going. In order that it might 
 do so, I crept in under a big stone that jutted out and 
 lay quiet a bit, watching it. It soon flew ofi", and com- 
 menced wheeling about in the air, not more than threa 
 hundred yards from where I lay. This time I took 
 
THE CARIBOU. 341 
 
 go*^ 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 1 
 would see something. And sure enough I did. On 
 peeping round the end of a rock, I spied a herd of 
 about fifty deer. They were reindeer, of course, as 
 there are no others upon the * Barren Grounds,' and 
 I saw they were all does — for at this season the 
 backs keep altogether in the woods. Some of them 
 ^ere pawing the snow to get at the moss, while others 
 were standing by the rocks, and tearing off the lichens 
 jyith 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 
 BO stupid, or rather so curious, that almost any thing 
 will draw them within shot. Knowing this, I prac- 
 tised a trick that had often helped me before ; and 
 ;hat was to move the barrel of my gun up and down, 
 with the same sort of motion as the deer make with 
 their horns, when rubbing their necks against a rock 
 or tree. If I'd had a set of antlers, it would have 
 been all the better; but the other answered well 
 enough. It happened the animals were not very wild, 
 as, likely, they hadn't been hunted for a good while. 
 I bellowed at the same time — for I know how to im- 
 itate thfcir call — and, in less than a minute's time, I 
 got several of them within range. Then I took aim, 
 and knocked one over, and the rest ran off. That,** 
 said Norman, " ended my adventure — unless you call 
 tlie carrying a good hundred pounds' weight of deer* 
 
S42 THE "ALARM BIRD *' AND 
 
 meat all tlie way back to camp part of it. If so, I can 
 assure you that it was by far the most unpleasant 
 part." 
 
 Here Norman finished his narration, and a conver- 
 sation was carried on upon the subject of reindeer^ 
 dr, as these animals are termed in America, " caribou." 
 
 Lucien said that the reindeer {Cervus tarandus) ia 
 found in tlie 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 celebra^-ed, 
 because they not only draw sledges, but also furnuU 
 food, clothing, and many other commodities for theii 
 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 individu- 
 als owning as many as ten or twenty thousand ! 
 
 It is not certain that the reindeer of America is 
 exactly the same as either of the kinds mentioned ; 
 and indeed in America itself there are two very dis- 
 tinct 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 ia 
 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, al- 
 though in winter it also seeks the shelter of wooded 
 tracts. Upon the Barren Grounds, and the desolate 
 shores and islands of the Arctic Sea, it is the only 
 kin 3 of deer found, except at one or two points, as Xht 
 
THE CARIBOU. 843 
 
 moutli of the Mackenzie River — which h,»ppens tc 
 be a wooded country, and there the moose also is met 
 with. Nature seems to have gifted the Barren 
 Ground caribou with such tastes and habits, that a 
 fertile country and a genial clime would not be a 
 pleasant home for it. It seems adapted to the bleak, 
 Bterile countries in which it dwells, and where its 
 favorite food — the mosses and lichens — is found. 
 In the short summer of the Arctic regions, it ranges 
 still farther north; and its traces have been found 
 wherever the northern navigators have gone. It 
 must remain among the icy islands of the Arctic Sea 
 until winter be considerably advanced, or until the 
 sea is so frozen as to allow it to get back to the 
 shores of the continent. 
 
 The " Woodland caribou " is a larger variety — a 
 Woodland doe being about as big as a Barren Ground 
 buck — although the horns of the latter species are 
 larger and more branching than those of the former 
 The woodland kind are found around the shores of 
 Hudson's Bay, and in other wooded tracts that lie in 
 the southern parts of the fur countries — into which 
 the Barren Ground caribou never penetrates. They 
 also migrate annually, but, strange to say, their spring 
 migrations are southward, while, at the same season, 
 their cousins of the Barren Grounds are making theu 
 way northward to the shores of the Arctic Sea. Thi 
 is a very singular difference in their habits, and alon^ 
 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 inhabiti 
 
S44 THE "ALAUM bird * AND 
 
 a district wiiere many large animals are found, it ii 
 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 varioua 
 tribes of Indians, as well as to the Esquimaux. With- 
 out 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 use- 
 ful purpose. Of its horns they form their fish-spears 
 and hooks, and, previous to the introduction of iron 
 by the Europeans, their ice-chisels and various other 
 utensils. Their scraping or currying knives are made 
 from the split shin-bones. The skins make their 
 clothing, tent-covers, beds, and blankets. The raw 
 hide, cleared of the hair, and cut into thongs, serves 
 for snares, bow-strings, net-lines, and every other sort 
 of ropes. The finer thongs make netting for snow- 
 shoes — an indispensable article to these people — 
 and of these thongs fish-nets are also woven ; while 
 the tendons of the muscles, when split, serve for fine 
 sewing-thread. Besides these uses, the flesh of the 
 caribou is the food of many tribes, Indians and Esqui- 
 maux, 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 extermi- 
 nated — for they are easily approached, and the Indi* 
 ans have very little difficulty, during the summer sea 
 son, in killing as many as they please. 
 
THE CARIBOU. 8^5 
 
 Normal, next gave a description of the va/ioup 
 a. odes of hunting the caribou practised by tht In- 
 dians and Esquimaux ; such as driving them into a 
 pound, snaring them, decoying and shooting them 
 v^ith arrows, and also a singular way which the 
 Esquimaux have of taking them in a pit-trap built in 
 the snow. 
 
 "The sides of the trap," said he, "are built of 
 slabs of snow, cut as if to make a snow-house. An 
 inclined plane of snow leads to the entrance of the pit 
 which is about five feet deep, and large enough within 
 to hold several deer. The exterior of the trap is banked 
 up on all sides with snow ; but so steep are these 
 sides left, that the deer can only get up by the inclined 
 plane which leads to the entrance. A great slab of 
 snow is then placed over the mouth of the pit, and 
 revolves on two axles of wood. This slab will carry 
 the deer until it has passed the line of the axles 
 when its weight overbalances one side, and the animal 
 is precipitated into the pit. The slab then comes back 
 into a horizontal position as before, and is ready to 
 receive another deer. The animals are attracted by 
 moss and lichens placed for them on the opposite side 
 of the trap — in such a way that they cannot be 
 reached without crossing the slab. In this sort of 
 trap several deer are frequently caught during a 
 single day." 
 
 Norman knew another mode of hunting practised 
 by the Esquimaux, and proposed that the party should 
 proceed in search of the herd upon the following day ; 
 when, should they succeed in finding *he deer, h« 
 would show them how the thing was done ; and he 
 
346 THE "ALARM BIRD, ETC. 
 
 had no doubt of their being able to make a good hun 
 of it. All agreed to this proposal, as it would be of 
 great importance to them to kill a large number of 
 these animals. It is true they had now provision enough 
 to serve for several days — but there were peihapa 
 months, not days, to be provided for. They believed 
 that they could not be far from the wooded countries 
 near the banks of the Mackenzie, as some kinds of the 
 animal they had met with were only to be found neaj 
 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, there- 
 fore, to track the herd of deer which Norman had 
 seen ; smd for this purpose they agreed to maio i 
 •tay of u>m€ iays at their present camp. 
 
A BATTLE WITH WOLVES. 347 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 A BATTLE WITH WOLVES. ^ 
 
 Next morning they were up by early daybreak. 
 The days were now only a few hours in length, 
 for it was midwinter, 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 
 «f the caribou, as they might have to follow the track 
 df 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 destructive 
 beasts are found in every part of the fur countries 
 — wherever there exist other animals upon which 
 they can prey. Eagles, hawks, and owls, moreover, 
 would have picked the partridges from the branches 
 of the trees without difiiculty. One proposed bury 
 ing 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 t>ovei them under a pile of stones, as there were 
 
548 A BATTLE WITH WOLVES. 
 
 plenty of these lying about. To this Norman als^ 
 objected, saying that the wolverene could puh 
 olT any stones they were able to pile upon them 
 — as this creature in its fore-legs possesses more 
 tSian the strength of a man. Besides, it was not 
 unlikely that one of the great brown bears — a spe- 
 cies entirely different from either the black or grizzly 
 bears, and which is only met with on the Barren 
 Grounds — might come ranging that way ; and he 
 could soon toss over any stoneheap they might build. 
 On the whole it was better that one of the four should 
 remain by the camp ; and Lucien, who cared less 
 about hunting than any of them, willingly agreed to 
 be the one. 
 
 Their arrangements were soon completed, and the 
 three hunters set out. They did not go straight to- 
 wards 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 him- 
 self 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, ex- 
 pecting 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, 
 80 ad to render it fit to be carried along. Nothing waa 
 required further than to skin and cut them up. Nei- 
 the? sailing nor drying was necessary, for the flesh of 
 tme and all had got frozen as stiff as a stone, and '\tt 
 
A BATTLE WITH WOLVFS. 34i) 
 
 this way it would keep during the whole winter. The 
 wolf was skinned with the others, but this was because 
 hi i fine skin was wanted. His flesh was not intended 
 to be eaten — although only a day or two before any 
 one of the party would have been glad of such a 
 meal. Not only the Indians, but the voyageurs and 
 fur-traders, while journeying through these inhospita- 
 ble 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 jer- 
 fulcon, and the eagle, were looked upon as part of the 
 larder — the flesh of all being almost as good as that 
 of the grouse. Had it been a fishing eagle — such as 
 the bald-head — the case would have been different, 
 for these last, on account of their peculiar food, taste 
 rank and disagreeable. But there was no danger of 
 their falling in with a fishing eagle at that place. 
 These can only exist where there is open water. 
 Hence the cause of their annual migrations to the 
 southward, when the lakes and rivers of the fur coun- 
 tries become covered with their winter ice. 
 
 Though Lucien remained quietly at the camp, he 
 was not without adventures to keep him from weary- 
 ing. While he was singeing his grouse, his eye hap" 
 peued to fall upon the shadow of a bird passing over 
 the snow. On looking up he saw a very large bird, 
 nearly as big as an eagle, flying softly about in wide 
 circles. It was of a mottled-brown color ; but its shorl 
 
550 A BATTLE WITH WOLVES. 
 
 neck and great round head told the naturalist at a 
 glance that it was a bird of the owl genus. It was the 
 largest of the kind that Lucien had ever seen, and 
 was, in fact, the largest known in America — the 
 "great cinereous owl" (Strix cinerea). Now and 
 then it would alight upon a rock or tree, at the dis- 
 tance of a hundred yards or so from the camp ; where 
 it would watch the operations of Lucien, evidently in- 
 clined to help him in dissecting some of the animals. 
 Whenever he took up his gun and tried to approach 
 within shot, it would rise into the air again, always 
 keeping out of range. Lucien was provoked at this 
 — for he wished, as a naturalist, to examine the bird, 
 and for this purpose to kill it, of course ; but the owl 
 seemed determined that he should do no such thing. 
 
 At length, however, Lucien resolved upon a plan to 
 decoy the creature within shot. Taking up one of the 
 grouse, he flung it out upon the snow some thirty yards 
 from the fire. No sooner had he done so, than the 
 owl, at sight of the tempting morsel, left aside both its 
 shyness and prudence, and sailed gently forward; 
 then, hovering for a moment over the ground, hooked 
 the grouse upon its claws, and was about to carry it 
 off^ when a bullet from Lucien's rifle, just in the " nick 
 of time," put a stop to its further flight, and dropped 
 the creature dead upon the snow. 
 
 Lucien picked it up and brought it to the camp, 
 where he passed some time in making notes upon ita 
 size, color, and other peculiarities. The owl meas- 
 ured 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. Il 
 
A Battle with wolves. 351 
 
 was of a clove-brown color, beautifully mottled with 
 white, and its bill and eyes were of a bright gam- 
 boge yellow. Like all of its tribe that winter in the 
 Arctic wilds, it was feathered to the toes. Luciei? 
 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 
 trayellers had already obtained from several of the 
 other creatures they had killed — that is to say, that 
 they must be in the neighborhood of some timbered 
 cx)untry. 
 
 Lucien had hardly finished his examination of the 
 owl, when he was called upon to witness another in- 
 cident of a much more exciting nature. A hill, as 
 already mentioned, or rather a ridge, rose up from 
 the opposite shore of the lake by which the camp 
 was pitched. The declivity of this hill fronted the 
 lake, and sloped gradually back from the edge of the 
 water. Its whole face was smooth and treeless, cov- 
 ered with a layer of pure snow. The camp com- 
 manded a full view of it up to its very crest. 
 
 As Lucien was sitting quietly by the fire, a singu- 
 lar sound, or rather continuation of sounds, fell upon 
 his ear. It somewhat resembled the baying of hounda 
 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 
 c*f wolves than the deep-toned bay of a bloodhound. 
 
352 A BATTLE WITH WOLVES- 
 
 This, in fact, it was ; for the next moment a caribou 
 dhot 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 m all, 
 and they were running exactly like hounds upon the 
 **view holloa." Lucien saw at a glance they were 
 wolves. Most of them were dappled-gray and white, 
 while some were of a pure white color. Any one of 
 them was nearly as large as the caribou itself ; for k 
 these parts — around Great Slave Lake — the wolf 
 grows to his largest size. 
 
 The caribou gained upon them as it bounded dowB 
 the slope of the hill. It was evidently making foi 
 the lake, believing, no doubt, that the black ice upoi 
 its surface was wator, and that in that element it 
 would have the advantage of its pursuers, for the car- 
 ibou is a splendid swimmer. Nearly all deer when 
 hunted take to the watei — 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 u 
 full view both of pursuers and pursued. The deer 
 ran boldly. It seemed to have gathered fresh con- 
 fidence at sight of the lake, while the same object 
 caused its pursuers a feeling of disappointment. They 
 knew they were no match for a caribou in the water, 
 as no doubt many a one had escaped them in that 
 element. It is not likely, however, that they made 
 reflections of this sort. There was but little time. 
 From the moment of their appearance upon t}y*, cresi 
 
A BATTLE WITH WOLVFS. 363 
 
 #f the hill till the chase arrived at the edge of the 
 lak*, 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 
 i£ feet ; but, now seemingly overcome by surprise 
 and knowing the advantage its pursuers would have 
 over it upon the slippery ice, it began to plunge and 
 flounder, and once or twice came to its knees. The 
 hungrv pursuers appeared to recognize their advan- 
 tage ai once, for their howling opened with a fresh 
 burst, and they quickened their pace. Their sharp 
 claws enabled them to gallop over the ice at top 
 Bpeed ; and one large brute that led the pack soon 
 came up with the deer, sprang upon it, and bit it ir 
 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 cari- 
 bou had been overtaken. At the time it first reached 
 the ice, Lucien had laid hold of his rifle and run for- 
 ward 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 off 
 the wolves, and securing the carcass of the deer for 
 himself. He kept along the ice until he was within 
 less than twenty yards of the pack, when, seeing that 
 
354 A BATTLE WITH WOLVES. 
 
 the fierce brates 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 
 advancing any nearer. Perhaps a shot from his rifle 
 would scatter them, and without further reflection he 
 raised the piece, and fired. One of the wolves kicked 
 over upon the ice, and lay quite dead ; but the others, 
 to Lucien's great surprise, instead of being frightened 
 off, immediately sprang upon their dead companion, 
 and commenced tearing and devouring it, just as they 
 had done the deer ! 
 
 The sight filled Lucien with alarm ; which was 
 increased at seeing several of the wolves — that had 
 been beaten by the others from the quarry — com- 
 mence making demonstrations towards himself! Lu- 
 cien now trembled for his safety, and no wonder. Ho 
 was near the middle of the lake upon slippery ice. 
 To attempt running back to the camp would be haz- 
 ardous ; the wolves could overtake him before 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 :hen, 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 cau- 
 
A BATTLE WITH WOLVES. 85> 
 
 ri )n, keeping his front all the while towards the wolves, 
 and his eyes fixed upon them. He had net got many 
 yards, when he perceived to his horor, that the whole 
 pack were in motion, and coming after him / It was 
 a terrible sight, and Lucien, seeing that by retreating 
 he only drew them on, stopped and held his rifle in a 
 threatening attitude. The wolves were now within 
 twenty yards of him ; but, instead of moving any longer 
 directly towards him, they broke into two lines, swept 
 past on opposite sides of him, and then circling round, 
 met each other in his rear. His retreat was cut off! 
 
 He now stood upon the ice with the fierce wolves 
 forming a ring around him, whose diameter was not 
 the six lengths of his gun, and every moment growing 
 shorter and shorter. The prospect was appalling. It 
 would have caused the stoutest heart to quail, and 
 Lucien's was terrified. He shouted at the top of his 
 voice. He fired his rifle at the nearest. The brute 
 fell, but the others showed no symptoms of fear ; they 
 only grew more furious. Lucien clubbed his gun — 
 the last resort in such cases — and laid around him 
 with all his might ; but he was in danger of slipping 
 upon the ice, and his efforts were feeble. Once down 
 he never would have risen again, for his fierce assail- 
 ants 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 stiU 
 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 
 
356 A BATTLE WITH WOLVES. 
 
 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 
 m^oment more they were crossing the ice to his rescue. 
 Lucien, gaining confidence, fought with fresh vigor. 
 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 kick- 
 ing upon the ice. The rest, uttering their hideous 
 howls, took to flight, and soon disappeared from the 
 valley ; and Lucien, half dead with fatigue, stagp^ered 
 into the arms of his deliverers. 
 
 No less than seven of the wolves were killed in the 
 affray -r- two of which Lucien had shot himself. 
 One or two were only wounded, but so badly, that 
 they could not get away ; and these were handed over 
 to the tender mercies of Marengo, who amused hira 
 self 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 eat- 
 ing a savory dinner. Lucien soon recovered from his 
 fright and fatigue, and amused his companions by giv- 
 mg an account of the adventures that had beftilleD 
 him in their absence. 
 
1BHD OP THE ** VOYAGE.** 357 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 END OF THE "VOYAGE. 
 
 Om party remained several days .t this place, 
 nntii they had made a fresh stock of ' pemmiean ** 
 from the flesh of the caribou, several ii.jre of which 
 they succeeded in killing ; and then, arranging every 
 thing 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 ex- 
 posed to cold more than at any other place. Both Fran- 
 9oia 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. 
 
 The rocks through which they passed were in many 
 places covered with the tripe de roche {Gyrophord) 
 of several species ; but our voyageurs cared nothing 
 about it so long as their pemmiean 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 meal 
 tasted so rank, and smelt so strongly of musk, that the 
 whole of it was left to the wolves, foxes, and othei 
 preying creatures of these parts. 
 
558 END CF THE "VOYAGE." 
 
 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 country offers a better prospect of 
 game. The sight, therefore, of a great forest was 
 cheering ; 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 
 sontinue 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 halt- 
 ed 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 
 wagon and horses, without even cracking. 
 
END OF THE "VOYAGE.** 359 
 
 They were now drawing near the Arctic circle, 
 and the days grew shorter and shorter as they ad- 
 vanced. But this did not much interfere with their 
 traTelling. The long nights of the polar regions arfl 
 not like those of more southern latitudes. They are 
 sometimes so clear that one may read the smallest 
 print. What with the coruscations of the aurora 
 borealis, and the cheerful gleaming of the northera con- 
 Btellations, one may travel without difficulty through- 
 out the livelong 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, aa 
 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, (/) 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 voyageurs 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 
 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 
 poor people to do ; but the most valuable thing ob- 
 tained from the Indians was a full set of do^s and 
 dog-sledges for the whole party. These were furnished 
 
S60 END OF THE "VOYAGE.* 
 
 by the chief, upon the understanding that he should 
 be paid for them on his next visit to the Fort. Al- 
 though 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 sur- 
 rounding 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 
 reach them, and the next moment they were lost in 
 the midst of the people who crowded out 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 " YouNa Voyageurs,*' 
 
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 ADVENTURES AMONGST THE INDIANS, and Other 
 
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 THIODOLPH, THE ICELANDER. Translated from the Ger- 
 
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 UNDINE AND SINTRAM. Translated from the German of D« 
 
 La Motte Fouque. 
 
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POPULAR BOOKS FOP YOUNG FOLKS. 
 
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 FAIRY TALES. By Hans Christian Andersen. 
 STORY BOOK. By Hans Christian Andersen. 
 WONDERFUL TALES. By Hans Christian Andersen. 
 GERMAN FAIRY TALES. By the Grimm Brothers. 
 HOME FAIRY TALES. By the Grimm Brothers. 
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 FAIRY TALES AND LEGENDS. By C. B. Burkhardt. 
 
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POPULAR BOOKS FOR YOUNG FOLKS. 
 
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 YOUNG FOLKS' SEA AND LAND TALES. By William and Robert 
 
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 YOUNG FOLKS' LIFE OF WASHINGTON. By Anna M, Hyde. 
 
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 PARLEY'S THOUSAND AND ONE STORIES. Large i2mo, Illustrated : 
 
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 CAMP FIRES OF THE REVOLUTION. Large i2mo. Illustrated ; Price, $1.50. 
 LA FONTAINE'S FABLES. Large lamo, Illustrated; Price, $1.50. 
 CHILD'S OWN BOOK OF FAIRY TALES. Small quarto. Illustrated; 
 
 Price, $1.50. 
 TREASURY OF FAIRY TALES. Small quarto. Illustrated ; Price, $1.50. 
 YOUNG FOLKS' SPORTS AND PASTIMES. Small quarto, Illustrated; 
 
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 CHILDREN'S BIBLE STORIES. Small quarto. Illustrated ; Price, 1.25. 
 
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UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 BERKELEY 
 
 Return to desk from which borrowed. 
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