132 IN THE LAND OF THE GREAT SPIRIT 



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V6 



Another morning there was a sudden excitement 

 among the Indians, for out of a hole in a stub popped 

 an ermine in winter dress right betw^een their legs as 

 they sat at breakfast. 



Our most beautiful visitors perhaps were the snowy 

 owls.* At one place a pair of these birds haunted 

 our camp for a week on end. Often when the 

 Indians were sleeping and the camp was still, and 

 I had gone out to see to the ponies and make thp fire 

 up, I could catch a glimpse of these white wanderers 

 sailing along low down in the splendid moonlight. 

 One time I especially remember. It was later on 

 then, and the land lay wrapped in snow. A sound 

 behind the tent awoke me — a scratching, scraping 

 sound. Peeping cautiously round the tent corner, 

 I made it out. Three coyottes were gnawing at 

 a moose's skull and horns which we had that day 

 cleaned and left lying in the snow\ I drove them 

 off. There was no moon, but I piled timber on the 

 fire till it blazed again. So I stayed for a space, 

 listening to the sounds of night — the barking of foxes, 

 and the belling of the elk. And as I stood two 

 snowy owls came into view, like great white moths, 



* Nyciea scandiaca (Linn. 



