CHAPTER VI 



THE BARREN-GROUND CARIBOU 



At the south end of Reindeer Lake, soon after 

 striking north from the great Churchill River, 

 one is vividly made aware, even in summer, that 

 the land of vast Caribou herds has been reached. 

 There at the Indian camp at the outlet to Rein- 

 deer River you will find strewn about the small 

 Indian cabins, in untidy disorder, remains of 

 many Caribou — bleached hair, hoofs, and white, 

 weather- washed knuckle-bones — which even 

 wolfish sled-dogs have given up chewing at in 

 distaste at their absolute poverty. Afterwards, as 

 you pilot your way northwards, through the 

 great lake of forested islands, you will be aston- 

 ished, wherever you land, at the number of 

 Caribou paths that lie before you — cleai-cut 

 paths, worn down by the hoofs of countless 

 animals, following, Indian-file, one after the other 

 over the cranberry, moss-grown, sand surface 

 of the woods — paths not grown over ; unchanged 

 since the time of the last migration except that 

 they bear no fresh hoof imprint. Those paths 

 are traced in many directions, but perhaps the 

 greater number, and those most deeply worn, are 

 those which run north and south. 



You have reached the great winter-haunt of 

 the Barren-ground Caribou (Bangifer arcticus). 



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