There were leagues and leagues of caribou moss, pale green or lilac, and a hundred others in clumps, that, seeing here the glory of the painted mosses, were simulating their ways, though they themselves were the not truly mosses at all.
I never before saw such a realm of exquisite flowers so exquisitely displayed, and the effect at every turn throughout the land was colour, colour, colour, to as far outdo the finest autumn tints of New England as the Colorado Canyon outdoes the Hoosac Gorge. What Nature can do only in October, elsewhere, she does here all season through, as though when she set out to paint the world she began on the Barrens with a full palette and when she reached the Tropics had nothing left but green.
Thus at every step one is wading through lush gra.s.s or crushing prairie blossoms and fruits. It is so on and on; in every part of the scene, there are but few square feet that do not bloom with flowers and throb with life; yet this is the region called the Barren Lands of the North.
And the colour is an index of its higher living forms, for this is the chosen home of the Swans and Wild Geese; many of the Ducks, the Ptarmigan, the Laplongspur and s...o...b..nting. The blue lakes echo with the wailing of the Gulls and the eerie magic calling of the Loons. Colonies of Lemmings, Voles, or Groundsquirrels are found on every sunny slope; the Wolverine and the White Wolf find this a land of plenty, for on every side, as I stood on that high hill, were to be seen small groups of Caribou.
This was the land and these the creatures I had come to see. This was my Farthest North and this was the culmination of years of dreaming. How very good it seemed at the time, but how different and how infinitely more delicate and satisfying was the realisation than any of the day-dreams founded on my vision through the eyes of other men.
CHAPTER x.x.xVII
FACING HOMEWARD
On this hill we divided, Preble and Billy going northward; Weeso and I eastward, all intent on finding a herd of Musk-ox; for this was the beginning of their range. There was one continual surprise as we journeyed--the willows that were mere twigs on Aylmer Lake increased in size and were now plentiful and as high as our heads, with stems two or three inches thick. This was due partly to the decreased alt.i.tude and partly to removal from the broad, cold sheet of Aylmer, which, with its July ice, must tend to lower the summer temperature.
For a long time we tramped eastward, among hills and meadows, with Caribou. Then, at length, turned south again and, after a 20-mile tramp, arrived in camp at 6.35, having seen no sign whatever of Musk-ox, although this is the region where Pike found them common; on July 1, 1890, at the little lake where we lunched, his party killed seven out of a considerable band.
At 9.30 that night Preble and Billy returned. They had been over Icy River, easily recognised by the thick ice still on its expansions, and on to Musk-ox Lake, without seeing any fresh tracks of a Musk-ox.
As they came into camp a White Wolf sneaked away.
Rain began at 6 and continued a heavy storm all night. In the morning it was still in full blast, so no one rose until 9.30, when Billy, starved out of his warm bed, got up to make breakfast. Soon I heard him calling: "Mr. Seton, here"s a big Wolf in camp!" "Bring him in here," I said. Then a rifle-shot was heard, another, and Billy appeared, dragging a huge White Wolf. (He is now to be seen in the American Museum.)
All that day and the next night the storm raged. Even the presence of Caribou bands did not stimulate us enough to face the sleet.
Next day it was dry, but too windy to travel.
Billy now did something that ill.u.s.trates at once the preciousness of firewood, and the pluck, strength, and reliability of my cook.
During his recent tramp he found a low, rocky hollow full of large, dead willows. It was eight miles back; nevertheless he set out, of his own free will; tramped the eight miles, that wet, bl.u.s.tery day, and returned in five and one-half hours, bearing on his back a heavy load, over 100 pounds of most acceptable firewood. Sixteen miles afoot for a load of wood! But it seemed well worth it as we revelled in the blessed blaze.
Next day two interesting observations were made; down by the sh.o.r.e I found the midden-heap of a Lemming family. It contained about four hundred pellets: their colour and dryness, with the absence of gra.s.s, showed that they dated from winter.
In the evening the four of us witnessed the tragic end of a Lap-longspur. Pursued by a fierce Skua Gull, it unfortunately dashed out over the lake. In vain then it darted up and down, here and there, high and low; the Skua followed even more quickly. A second Skua came flying to help, but was not needed. With a falcon-like swoop, the pirate seized the Longspur in his bill and bore it away to be devoured at the nearest perch.
At 7.30 A. M., August 24, 1907, surrounded by scattering Caribou, we pushed off from our camp at Sand Hill Bay and began the return journey.
At Wolf-den Point we discovered a large and ancient wolf-den in the rocks; also abundance of winter sign of Musk-ox. That day we made forty miles and camped for the night on the Sand Hill Mountain in Tha-na-koie, the channel that joins Aylmer and Clinton-Colden. Here we were detained by high winds until the 28th.
This island is a favourite Caribou crossing, and Billy and Weeso had pitched their tents right on the place selected by the Caribou for their highway. Next day, while scanning the country from the top of the mount, I saw three Caribou trotting along. They swam the river and came toward me. As Billy and Weeso were in their tents having an afternoon nap, I thought it would be a good joke to stampede the Caribou on top of them, so waited behind a rock, intending to jump out as soon as they were past me. They followed the main trail at a trot, and I leaped out with "horrid yells" when they pa.s.sed my rock, but now the unexpected happened. "In case of doubt take to the water" is Caribou wisdom, so, instead of dashing madly into the tents, they made three desperate down leaps and plunged into the deep water, then calmly swam for the other sh.o.r.e, a quarter of a mile away.
This island proved a good place for small mammals. Here Preble got our first specimen of the White Lemming. Large islands usually prove better for small mammals than the mainland. They have the same conditions to support life, but being moated by the water are usually without the larger predatory quadrupeds.
The great central inland of Clinton-Colden proved the best place of all for Groundsquirrels. Here we actually found them in colonies.
On the 29th and 30th we paddled and surveyed without ceasing and camped beyond the rapid at the exit of Clinton-Colden. The next afternoon we made the exit rapids of Casba Lake. Preble was preparing to portage them, but asked Weeso, "Can we run them?"
Weeso landed, walked to a view-point, took a squinting look and said, "Ugh!" (Yes). Preble rejoined, "All right! If he says he can, he surely can. That"s the Indian of it. A white man takes risks; an Indian will not; if it is risky he"ll go around." So we ran the rapids in safety.
Lighter each day, as the food was consumed, our elegant canoe went faster. When not detained by heavy seas 30 or 40 miles a day was our journey. On August 30 we made our last 6 miles in one hour and 6 1/2 minutes. On September 2, in spite of head-winds, we made 36 miles in 8 1/4 hours and in the evening we skimmed over the gla.s.sy surface of Artillery Lake, among its many beautiful islands and once more landed at our old ground--the camp in the Last Woods.
CHAPTER x.x.xVIII
THE FIRST WOODS
How shall I set forth the feelings it stirred? None but the shipwrecked sailor, long drifting on the open sea, but come at last to land, can fully know the thrill it gave us. We were like starving Indians suddenly surrounded by Caribou. Wood--timber--fuel--galore! It was hard to realise--but there it was, all about us, and in the morning we were awakened by the sweet, sweet, home-like song of the Robins in the trees, singing their "Cheerup, cheerily," just as they do it in Ontario and Connecticut. Our cache was all right; so, our stock of luxuries was replenished. We now had unlimited food as well as unlimited firewood; what more could any one ask? Yet there was more. The weather was lovely; perfect summer days, and the mosquitoes were gone, yes, now actually nets and flybars were discarded for good. On every side was animal life in abundance; the shimmering lake with its Loons and islands would fit exactly the Indian"s dream of the heavenly hunting-grounds. These were the happy halcyon days of the trip, and we stayed a week to rest and revel in the joys about us.
In the morning I took a long walk over the familiar hills; the various skeletons we had left were picked bare, evidently by Gulls and Ravens, as no bones were broken and even the sinews were left.
There were many fresh tracks of single Caribou going here and there, but no trails of large bands. I sent Weeso off to the Indian village, two miles south. He returned to say that it was deserted and that, therefore, the folk had gone after the Caribou, which doubtless were now in the woods south of Artillery Lake. Again the old man was wholly astray in his Caribou forecast.
That night there was a sharp frost; the first we had had. It made nearly half an inch of ice in all kettles. Why is ice always thickest on the kettles? No doubt because they hold a small body of very still water surrounded by highly conductive metal.
Billy went "to market" yesterday, killing a nice, fat little Caribou.
This morning on returning to bring in the rest of the meat we found that a Wolverine had been there and lugged the most of it away.
The tracks show that it was an old one accompanied by one or maybe two young ones. We followed them some distance but lost all trace in a long range of rocks.
The Wolverine is one of the typical animals of the far North. It has an unenviable reputation for being the greatest plague that the hunter knows. Its habit of following to destroy all traps for the sake of the bait is the prime cause of man"s hatred, and its cleverness in eluding his efforts at retaliation give it still more importance.
It is, above all, the dreaded enemy of a cache, and as already seen, we took the extra precaution of putting our caches up trees that were protected by a necklace of fishhooks. Most Northern travellers have regaled us with tales of this animal"s diabolical cleverness and wickedness. It is fair to say that the malice, at least, is not proven; and there is a good side to Wolverine character that should be emphasized; that is, its nearly ideal family life, coupled with the heroic bravery of the mother. I say "nearly" ideal, for so far as I can learn, the father does not a.s.sist in rearing the young. But all observers agree that the mother is absolutely fearless and devoted. More than one of the hunters have a.s.sured me that it is safer to molest a mother Bear than a mother Wolverine when accompanied by the cubs.
Bellalise, a half-breed of Chipewyan, told me that twice he had found Wolverine dens, and been seriously endangered by the mother.
The first was in mid-May, 1904, near Fond du Lac, north side of Lake Athabaska. He went out with an Indian to bring in a skiff left some miles off on the sh.o.r.e. He had no gun, and was surprised by coming on an old Wolverine in a slight hollow under the boughs of a green spruce. She rushed at him, showing all her teeth, her eyes shining blue, and uttering sounds like those of a Bear. The Indian boy hit her once with a stick, then swung himself out of danger up a tree. Bellalise ran off after getting sight of the young ones; they were four in number, about the size of a Muskrat, and pure white. Their eyes were open. The nest was just such as a dog might make, only six inches deep and lined with a little dry gra.s.s.
Scattered around were bones and fur, chiefly of Rabbits.
The second occasion was in 1905, within three miles of Chipewyan, and, as before, about the middle of May. The nest was much like the first one; the mother saw him coming, and charged furiously, uttering a sort of coughing. He shot her dead; then captured the young and examined the nest; there were three young this time. They were white like the others.
Not far from this camp, we found a remarkable midden-yard of Lemmings.
It was about 10 feet by 40 feet, the ground within the limits was thickly strewn with pellets, at the rate of 14 to the square inch, but nowhere were they piled up. At this reckoning, there were over 800,000, but there were also many outside, which probably raised the number to 1,000,000. Each pellet was long, brown, dry, and curved, i.e., the winter type. The place, a high, dry, very sheltered hollow, was evidently the winter range of a colony of Lemmings that in summer went elsewhere, I suppose to lower, damper grounds.
After sunset, September 5, a bunch of three or four Caribou trotted past the tents between us and the Lake, 200 yards from us; Billy went after them, as, thanks to the Wolverine, we were out of meat, and at one shot secured a fine young buck.
His last winter"s coat was all shed now, his ears were turning white and the white areas were expanding on feet and b.u.t.tocks; his belly was pure white.
On his back and rump, chiefly the latter, were the scars of 121 bots. I could not see that they affected the skin or, hair in the least.
Although all of these Caribou seem to have the normal foot-click, Preble and I worked in vain with the feet of this, dead one to make the sound; we could not by any combination of movement, or weight or simulation of natural conditions, produce anything like a "click."
That same day, as we sat on a hill, a cow Caribou came curiously toward us. At 100 yards she circled slowly, gazing till she got the wind 150 yards to one side, then up went her tail and off she trotted a quarter of a mile, but again drew nearer, then circled as before till a second time the wind warned her to flee. This she did three or four times before trotting away; the habit is often seen.
Next afternoon, Billy and I saw a very large buck; his neck was much swollen, his beard flowing and nearly white. He sighted us afar, and worked north-west away from us, in no great alarm. I got out of sight, ran a mile and a half, headed him off, then came on him from the north, but in spite of all I could do by running and yelling, he and his band (3 cows with 3 calves) rushed galloping between me and the lake, 75 yards away. He was too foxy to be driven back into that suspicious neighbourhood.
Thus we had fine opportunities for studying wild life. In all these days there was only one unfulfilled desire: I had not seen the great herd of Caribou returning to the woods that are their winter range.