510 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Jan. 24, 1884. 



AFTER CARIBOU. 



[OOKCTATDED PROM PACE 491.] 



T\7"E rose next morning soon after daylight. The night had 

 * * been cold, and along the margin of the river, except 

 where the current was most swift, there was a skim of ice — in 

 some places almost thick enough to bear a man's weight. 

 Wo made fair time during the day, reaching Mink Pointsoon 

 after 11 o'clock, and camping shortly before dark about two 

 miles above the Wading Place. This is a long stretch of 

 shallow rapids, over which, at almost all stages of water, it 

 is necessary to drag the canoes. On the sand and gravel 

 banks along the river we saw many caribou tracks, none of 

 them very recently made, however, and also the tracks of a 

 cow and calf moose. Just opposite where we camped, I 

 found upon the bank the track of a good-sized moose, which 

 had certainly been made some time after noon of that day. 

 As I have said, the previous night had been very cold, and 

 the wet ground had frozen hard. This moose track had been 

 made in the fine alluvial mud at the edge of the wood, 

 and from the nppearanee of the track it was plain that the 

 earth had not been frozen since it was made. The track 

 was close under the woods on tlie north side of the stream, 

 so that the sun could not have reached it before 10 o'clock. 

 The footprints sank nearly an inch into the mud before they 

 reached a bottom hard enough to support the animal's 

 weight ; hence the ground must have been quite soft, and so 

 exposed to the sun for two, and perhaps four, hours before 

 the moose had stepped on it. Above the track grew a lot 

 of young larches which were dropping one by one their 

 yellow needles, and in the hoof prints were half a dozen 

 of these, not pressed into the dirt, but lyiag lightly upon it. 

 From all this I concluded that the track had been made not 

 more than an hour or two before 1 discovered it, and possibly 

 somewhat less. The clang of the iron-shod poles upon the 

 rocks of the river bed was audible at the distance of half a 

 mile, and any game that might be along the shore would 

 thus be warned of the canoe's approach long before it could 

 be seen by us, 



Our camp here was again a pleasant one among a thick 

 growth of young larches — here called junipers — and spruces. 

 The night was again bitter cold — down to zero, Fahrenheit, 

 the men said — and ice made three inches thick in the quiet 

 pools and salmon holes. At all events, when, in the gray of 

 the morning, 1 went down to the river side to wash, a heavy 

 mist was rising from the water, and hair and beard froze 

 stiff as soon as wet. I was astonished to see how little cov- 

 ering the men used at night. 1 carried a pair of heavy 

 northwest blankets, which weighed, when new, fourteen 

 pounds, and a "comfortable" or cotton quilt — one of the 

 best protections against cold, by the way, that 1 know of — 

 but none of the men had more than a single light blanket, 

 and one slept under a cotton counterpane. They depended 

 almost wholly upon the Are for warmth, and when, after 

 four or five hours, it had burned down so as to give out but 

 little heat, the cold would awaken them and they would 

 pile on the logs and smoke a pipe until the fire was again 

 burning well, and then lie down and go to sleep again. The 

 reason for this dependence on the fire is obvious enough. 

 The only means of travel through these forests is by the 

 canoe or on foot. When the canoe has been left, everything 

 —blankets, cooking utensils, provisions, tools and ammu- 

 nition—must be packed through the forest on men's backs. 

 It is, therefore, of the utmost importance that no superfluous 

 articles shall be carried. Weight tells here, and the men 

 prefer to make their blankets of the firewood, everywhere 

 abundant, rather than to add a few pounds to their load. 



The air was so keen this morning that to sit in the canoe 

 meant to suffer with cold. I therefore walked all day along 

 the beaches and gravel bars, crossing the river from time to 

 time in the shallow riffles. The stones of the river bed were 

 covered two or three inches deep with loose, slushy anchor 

 icej here called "lully," which made walking over them 

 rather difficult. It was almost impossible to proceed through 

 the woods, which came down to the river's edge, on account 

 of the fallen timber. We had nine miles further to go before 

 reaching a camp at the mouth of Indian Fork, where we 

 were to leave the canoes and walk across the hills to a per- 

 manent camp, about which the hunting was to be done. 

 During the day many tracks of caribou and moose were seen 

 along the river, *o*ut none of them were particularly fresh. 

 At 2 o'clock we reached the cabin at the Fork, and almost 

 immediately William and Albert took each a load of pro- 

 visions and went up the very steep hill- immediately behind 

 the camp, leaving their burdens on the comparatively level 

 land above and then returned. 



Early next morning all hands started up the hill with the 

 packs for the permanent camp. The climb of the first lull 

 Was very difficult. It is so steep that to get on at all, onehas 

 to cling to the trees and bushes, and pull one's self up. The 

 frozen moss slipped under the foot, and every few moments it 

 was necessary to stop and take breath. After about a thousand 

 feet of this climbing has been done, the trail leads through 

 the forest over undulating hills with no very steep pitches. 

 Then the dense forest is left behind.and we come to a more open 

 country, dotted with low spruces. In the valleys which inter. 

 sect the rolling hills a little coarse grass grows, and the white 

 reindeer moss carpets the ground. It is to these and similar 

 places that the caribou come to feed when heavy snows have 

 covered the forest vegetation. As we walked through the 

 spruces on these hills, we observed many places where 

 the deer had passed along within a very short time, but no 



life except an occasional rabbit and a few Canada jays was 

 seen. We reached camp about noon, and alter dinner I 

 started with Joseph for Murray's Brook, four miles distant. 

 Nothing was seen during the walk, and before dark we were 

 at the camp again. 



Immediately after breakfast next day, I set out with 

 Joseph and William for the Big Mountain, the famous hunt- 

 ing ground of this region, and about six miles from the 

 camp. Just after crossing Murray's Brook, as we were 

 passing through some heavy timber, we flushed from the 

 trail a spruce partridge, which alighted on a limb about 

 eight feet from the ground. William was at first going to 

 throw his axe at it, but Joseph urged him to snare it. A 

 pole was cut and trimmed, and a noose made from a bit of 

 salmon twine tied to the end of it. While this was being 

 done, the simple, little bird sat cuddled up on the limb, un- 

 conscious of danger, not even looking at us. When all 

 was ready, William took the pole, and stepping quietly up 

 to the tree passed the noose over its head, and dragged the 

 innocent fowl from its perch. 



A little later we reached the burnt country. Here the 

 trees stood further apart, and there were little open spaces, 

 overgrown only by low bushes, so that one could see for a 

 hundred yards or more in any direction. The country be- 

 came more and more open as we advanced and everywhere 

 there were abundant fresh signs of caribou. At length we 

 stopped on the edge of a valley nearly half a mile wide, on the 

 other side of which rose the Big Mountain. This valley is 

 quite open and level. A few scattering spruces grow in it, 

 but these are not enough to obstruct the view. On the oppo- 

 site side, the foothills of the Big Mountain rise steeply. They 

 are white with the reindeer moss and dotted with dark ever- 

 greens. We sat down here for a while, and carefully looked 

 over all the ground before us, but as no game was to be dis- 

 covered, soon moved on down the north side of the valley, 

 walking among the trees on the steep slope. We had gone 

 but half a mile when Joseph, who was a few steps in ad- 

 vance of me, on coming to the top of a little hill overlooking 

 a new stretch of country, suddenly turned and whispered, 

 "Caribou." In a moment I was beside him, and far down 

 the valley saw a deer walking away from us toward a long 

 spruce-covered point, which ran out from the north side of 

 the valley. A momentlater several others were distinguished 

 among the trees on this point. Climbing higher up on the 

 hillside so as to be better covered by the trees, we hurried 

 on, but several times, on reaching open places where there 

 were no trees, were obliged to stop and wait. 



There were four of the deer, and they now worked out 

 into the middle of the broad valley from which they could 

 command a wide outlook, and if we tried to move toward 

 them through the scattered trees there was danger that they 

 might see us. There was no hurry, for unless frightened by 

 us, there was no likelihood that the deer would move away 

 from where they now were. The one first seen was easily 

 recognized among the others by its paler color and smaller 

 size. It was thought to be a doe, add was evidently a 

 stranger to the other three, who seemed anxious to investi- 

 gate, it. They would walk up to and smell it, und then would 

 playfully bite at its sides, and when it moved out of their 

 way, would chase it a few steps. The two larger bucks 

 seemed to be a little jealous of one another, though perhaps 

 it was only their playfulness. Once or twice they drew off 

 and charged each other, coming together with a smart clash 

 of horus that was distinctly heard where we knelt. They 

 would then push for a short time, and then separate and begin 

 to nibble the grass. The four moved here and there, some, 

 times taking a bite, and then walking a few steps, then chas- 

 ing one another or having a little tight, and always uncon- 

 scious that from the top of the hill less than half a mile dis- 

 tant three pairs of hostile eyes were intently watching their 

 movements. 



At length they moved a little further down the valley. 

 behind a wooded point, and so out of our- sight. It took 

 but a few moments to run to the point of the hills beneath 

 which they were, and when I peeped around a bushy spruce 

 on the top of the ridge, I saw there, not one hundred and 

 fifty yards away, the biggest buck standing in the middle of 

 the valley, his bead down, apparently half asleep. Care- 

 fully slipping along from tree to tree, I came within a hun- 

 dred yards of him, and when I looked out he 

 was still there. I was to have my desire— a standing shot 

 at a hundred yards. 



I was now anxious to make good shooting. I wanted the 

 caribou, and then the two men were looking on, and I did not 



ish to be humiliated by missing so easy a shot before them. 

 But as is often the case when one is over anxious, I failed to 

 place my ball just whore 1 wished to, and shot an inch too low, 

 striking the humerus just above the elbow, the ball glancing 

 back and passing in above the brisket, but too far back to 

 touch the heart. The deer came to his knees, and then with 

 a mighty effort recovered himself and stood with his right 

 foreleg swinging helplessly. Twenty yards beyond the big 

 buck stood a smaller one. At the report of the gun he 

 looked up, and as he stared about for the cause of the noise 

 a ball struck him in the heart, and he fell and never moved 

 again. Away to the left, and facing down the valley, stood 

 the new comer. When the last one fell it turned its head 

 and looked hack at it, so that the head and neck completely 

 covered the shoulder and heart, and I could not fire at it. 

 For some little time it stood there looking, and I waited for 

 it to change its attitude. Then 1 whistled and it raised its 



head. I fired and it gave a sudden start, and spread its feet 

 a little. I felt pretty sure from this that I had hit it in the 

 right spot, but it did not at once fall, and as the men urged 

 me to shoot again, I fired twice more, and then it fell. The 

 big buck still kept his legs, and the men begged me to shoot 

 him again. Another shot finished his career, 



All this time the fourth buck had been standing, partly 

 hidden by a tree, and watching the death of his comrades, 

 I would not shoot at him, for we already had as much meat 

 as we could use and carry out of the woods. We started 

 down the hill toward the dead caribou, and it was not until 

 we were within thh-ty or forty yards of him that the remain- 

 ing one started. He then began to suspect that there was 

 something wrong, and throwing up his white tail, trotted 

 gracefully off up the opposite slope, stopping once, when 

 about 200 yards away, to look back. No doubt be has since 

 plumed himself greatly on his superior sagacity in escaping 

 the threatened danger. It may be inferred by the hunters 

 who read these pages that caribou are fools, and I am quite 

 willing to agree that, those which I saw deserved no better 

 name. It would be too much to say, however, that they al- 

 ways act in this way. The men told me that they were 

 usually shy and difficult of approach, and that the senses of 

 smell and hearing are particularly keen in this species. On 

 this occasion the wind was iu our favor, and on the yieldiug 

 moss we were able to walk noiselessly. Moreover, it is cer- 

 tain that for seven or eight months before our coming not a 

 gun had been fired in these hills, and it is possible tbat the 

 animals which I killed had never before heard the. report of 

 a rifle. Elk and deer will sometimes act just as these caribou 

 did, though I think I never had to do with any animals ex- 

 cept, buffalo that were less alive to the dangers from a gun 

 than these, 



We found the game not at all in good order. The rutting 

 season being just over, and all the dead animals being males, 

 there was no superfluous fat upon them, though none were ab- 

 solutely lean. The two bucks were everywhere a deep clove 

 brown, except the neck, which was gray, and the belly, un- 

 der surface of the tail, and a narrow margin above the hoof 

 which parts were white. The small stranger was much 

 paler, more nearly the color of a Virginia deer in his autumnal 

 dress, but curiously dappled upon the flanks, the markings 

 resembling faint large spots, such as the young caribou have. 

 Similar markings on a much smaller scale I have sometimes 

 seen upon the adult "Virginia deer. In both cases they are, 

 no doubt, instances of reversion to the color markings of 

 some spotted ancestor. 



It, took some time to butcher the three deer, and while do, 

 iag so it was discovered that only the first three shots had 

 been required to kill the deer, and that all the subsequent 

 ones were unnecessary. The first shot at the big buck had 

 pierced his lungs, and the first at the small stranger had cut 

 the point of bis heart. Both would have been fatal. We 

 returned to camp with a good load of meat and "kins, and 

 were there by 2 o'clock. 



Joseph asserted that the spruce partridge had brought us 

 luck. He said that the Indians consider it a good omen to 

 see a partridge in the morning when they are going hunting, 

 and they think the sight of the spruce partridge will bring 

 particularly good luck. They have a saying that "the red 

 eye never tells a lie," the allusion, of course, being to the 

 strip of naked red skin above the eye of the spruce grouse. 

 It was now seen also that certain dreams bad foretold tie 

 killing of the deer. Two nights before Joseph had dreamed 

 that he saw two horses, one of which had a red belt about it; 

 thiswas interpreted to mean that we should sec caribou, and 

 draw blood from them. The previous night John had 

 dreamt that bo had seen a gray horse galloping very fast, and 

 at breaMast that day he had predicted that we would see 

 caribou galloping. 



On Saturday we started out for a load of meat. The 

 morning was one of the coldest we had felt, but it was clear, 

 and just before we passed out. of the forest the sun climbed 

 up over the distant peaks. The scene that we beheld as we 

 came out to the spruce clad hills was one of rare beauty. 

 Each branch and spray and twig of the evergreens seemed 

 coated with silver and tipped with jewels, and the slanting 

 rays of the suu were reflected from the frost crystals with a 

 brightness which I have no words to tell of. The air was 

 full of tiny particles of frozen moisture, which sparkled for 

 a moment and disappeared, aud then, as the light struck 

 them at the right angle, sparkled again with the clear white 

 radiance of a diamond. Everywhere toward the sun these 

 glittering particles filled the air, thick as the snow flukes in 

 a winter's storm, and, like these, always falling and always 

 replaced by others from above. The sight was one of in- 

 comparable brilliancy and strangeness. 



After showing John aud Albert where the meat was. we 

 made a long round of about sixteen miles before reaching 

 camp. On the trail, less than a qua iter of a mile from the 

 cabin, we saw where a bull, cow and calf moose had been 

 along during the previous day, but we saw nothing larger 

 than spruce grouse during the tramp. Two of these we 

 captured by the usual device, a pole with a noose on the end, 

 audi at once began to look about for caribou, but on this 

 occasion the •■redeye's" reputation for veracity suffered. 

 The last grouse caught was quite wild, and flew three times 

 from one^tree to another, but finally thrust its head into the 

 noose while standing on a spruce bough with its wings half 

 spread, clucking and jerking its tail as if just about to take 

 wing. 



