CHAPTER VI.

_THE HOME OF THE REINDEER._

From Lake Athabasca to the Height of Land our course had constantly been up stream, but from this point to the sea the way must ever be with the current. Having launched our little fleet in the lake on the north side of the watershed, the new stage of the journey was begun with a strong, fair breeze.

The lake is a large one, and has been named Daly Lake—after the Hon. T. M. Daly, then Minister of the Interior for Canada. Towards the centre of it was discovered a peninsula, which is connected with the west shore only by a very narrow neck of land, across which a portage was made. For a day and a half we were delayed here by a gale, the most severe we had so far encountered. So wild was the lake during this storm that water-spouts were whirled up from its billows and carried along in great vertical columns for considerable distances.

Certain remarkable physical features in the shape of great sand “Kames,” or high ridges, were also observed at this locality. They were composed of clear sand and gravel, were sixty or seventy feet in height, trended in a north-easterly and south-westerly direction, were quite narrow on top, and so level and uniform that they might well be taken to be the remains of the embankments of ancient railways. Geologists, however, have another theory accounting for their origin, namely, that they were formed by fissures or splits in the ancient glaciers.

On the sheltered southerly slopes of these ridges many new varieties of plants were found, and some others which had been collected farther south were here seen for the last time on the journey. Notable among the latter was the aspen, of which several stunted, gnarled specimens were observed. When the storm had abated sufficiently the traverse of the lake shore was resumed, when other notable features appeared.

A large part of the country was now composed of frozen mossy bogs, sloping gently down towards the lake. In the higher portions of the bogs the moss was still growing, but elsewhere it was dead, and excepting a few inches, was imbedded in solid glaciers. In many instances these frozen bogs or glaciers were found to be breaking off into the lake, and in such places they presented brown mossy vertical faces, from ten to twenty feet above the water. In examining these vertical sections they were observed, as on top, to consist of frozen moss to within about a foot of the surface. The first of the moss glaciers, if I may call them such, were observed near the Height of Land, but towards the north end of Daly Lake they composed a large part of the country, and timber occurred only in scattered, isolated patches.

[Illustration: TELZOA RIVER.]

According to our Indian information we should now be near the outlet of the lake. During the morning of the 22nd, after a good deal of searching in many deep bays, the entrance to the Telzoa (broad shallow river) was discovered. It was indeed a great, broad and rapid river, broken up into many shallow channels, whose waters seemed to have been, as it were, spilled over the edge of the lake in the lowest places. This was the river we had set out to explore, and with nothing more than conjectures as to where it would lead us, we pushed our canoes into the stream, and sped away to the northward. Landings were made when necessary to carry on the survey and examination of the country, but at other times the canoes were kept in the stream, and the men at the paddles. Many rapids were run, but our veteran steersman Pierre, with his skill, judgment and unflinching nerve, was usually able to map out his course and steer it successfully, sometimes between rocks and through channels little wider than his canoe.

Upon one occasion, which I well recollect, Pierre led the way for the centre of a wild, rocky rapid. We soon saw that he was making for a heavy shoot between two great boulders, where the channel was barely wide enough to allow us to pass. I determined to follow, but our third canoe sought a channel nearer shore. Pierre, by keeping straight in the centre of the current, was shot through the notch like a rocket, but my steersman, less skilful, allowed our canoe to be caught by an eddy. Like a flash it was whirled end for end, and happily for us struck the shoot stern first instead of sideways and was carried through safely—no thanks to the steersman. The third canoe fared worst of the three, for it was dashed upon a great flat rock and broken in the bottom. Its occupants, by jumping out upon the rock, managed to hold it until assistance could be given them. The load of the disabled canoe was safely landed by one of the others, and the damage soon repaired.

[Illustration: RAPIDS, TELZOA RIVER.]

We were now fairly beyond the limit of woods, which for some time past had been gradually becoming thinner more scattered, and of more stunted growth. On this account it is impossible to lay down any definite line as the limit of the forest. Outlying patches of spruce and tamarack might still be found here and there in the most favored localities, but as a whole the country was now a vast, rolling, treeless wilderness.

On the evening of the 28th of July we reached the north end of an expansion of the river, named Barlow Lake. Our supply of meat was already running low. Being quite unable to carry provisions with us for the whole trip, we had, in starting, taken only a limited quantity of this kind of food, trusting to our ability to replenish the supply from time to time by the way. Up to this time, however, we had seen nothing in the shape of game since leaving Lake Athabasca, excepting the one black bear, and he made good his escape. Plenty of old deer-tracks were to be seen, but not a single deer, and in consequence we were beginning to feel some anxiety. If game should not be found within a week or ten days, we would have to return, or proceed with the probability before us of starvation.

We had only begun to think seriously on this question when on the evening above-mentioned, just as we had gone ashore to camp, a moving object was noticed on a little island out in the lake. By means of our field-glasses we could tell it was a deer, and I need hardly say that no time was lost in manning a canoe and pulling for the island. As we approached the deer watched us closely, and soon satisfied of danger, bounded into the air, galloped to the farther side of the island, plunged into the water, and struck out for the nearest shore. The rate at which the frightened animal tore its way through the water was really marvellous, and for a time it looked as if we would not be able to overtake it with our light canoe and four paddles. Every muscle was strained, both of deer and men, so that the hunt resolved itself into a veritable race for life. Unfortunately for the poor animal, though, the course was too long, and before it could reach the shore we had overhauled and shot it. That night we enjoyed our first meal of venison.

[Illustration: HERD OF REINDEER.]

The next day, after descending the river a distance of five or six miles, and getting into a body of water named Carey Lake, through which we were steering a central course, one of the party called attention to something moving on the distant shore to our right. It turned out to be not one but a band of deer. Our canoes were headed to leeward of the band, that they might not scent us as we approached the shore. Drawing nearer we found there was not only one band, but that there were many great bands, literally covering the country over wide areas. The valleys and hillsides for miles appeared to be moving masses of reindeer. To estimate their numbers would be impossible. They could only be reckoned in acres or square miles.

After a short consultation a place for landing, near a small grove of tamarack—one of the last we saw—was chosen. Rifles were examined, and an ample supply of cartridges provided. Shot-guns and revolvers were furnished to four of the men, and thus prepared we landed and drew up the canoes. So far the deer had apparently not seen us, but to prevent a general stampede, it was arranged that I should go around to the rear of a large detachment of the herd, near by, while my brother should approach them from the shore. Accordingly I was given fifteen minutes to run around, a mile or so, behind some rising ground. Meanwhile the rest of the party scattered themselves about in different places, and at the given time my brother, having approached within easy range, opened the fray by bringing down a noble buck. At this first shot the whole band—a solid mass of several thousands of deer—was thrown into confusion, and they rushed to and fro, not knowing which way to flee. Simultaneously with my brother’s shot, I opened fire on them from the rear, and our armed men charged from the sides, while the other two were obliged to take refuge upon a great boulder to avoid being trampled to death. The band was speedily scattered, but not before a woful slaughter had been made, and an abundant supply of fine fresh meat secured, for which we were sincerely thankful. It was fortunate that there was wood at hand to make a fire with and dry the meat. Having slain as many animals as we required, the men were set to work to prepare dried meat for the rest of the trip.

This stroke of good fortune gave us much encouragement, as we thought we had now nothing to fear from lack of provisions. Several days were spent in drying the eighteen or twenty carcases, which were preserved, and while this work was progressing my brother and I had ample time to roam over the hills and view and photograph the bands of deer which were still everywhere about us. After the slaughter of the first day we carried no rifles with us, but armed only with a camera walked to and fro through the herd, causing little more alarm than one would by walking through a herd of cattle in a field. The experience was delightful, one never to be forgotten. The reindeer, which is the same as the Barren Ground caribou, is an animal of exceptional interest. To those whose imaginations dwell on visions of St. Nicholas and his coursers it is the ideal steed; while to the hardy native of the frigid zone it is a faithful and efficient servant, and is undoubtedly the most useful and valuable of the fifty or more known varieties of deer.

In different localities, and at different seasons of the year, reindeer vary in appearance; they range in weight from one hundred to four hundred pounds. During the months of June and July they present their poorest appearance, being then lean and scrawny, and their half-shed coats ragged and frowsy. By the month of August they have discarded their tattered last-winter garments, and have assumed sleek glossy brown summer coats, which give them a smaller but much more comely appearance. From this time, both because of increasing flesh and length of hair, they become gradually larger and more handsome, until, by the month of November, when they don their winter suits of white and grey, they are transformed in appearance into the noblest animals of the chase.

Then it is that the enormous antlers of the male deer have attained their full, hard growth, and he is thus armed for the many battles habitually fought during the months of November and December for the possession of favored members of the fair sex. During the month of January these antlers of the male deer, having served their purpose as weapons of warfare, are annually cast. Within a few weeks of the falling of the old horns, soft new ones begin to form beneath the skin, and gradually they increase in size until they reach maturity the following autumn. During growth the antlers remain comparatively soft, and are covered with skin and fine short hair, known as the “velvet.” At maturity a circular burr is formed at the base of the horn. This has the effect of cutting off the blood-vessels, and causing the velvet to dry and shrivel and ultimately peel off. The peeling of the velvet is also hastened by the deer rubbing its antlers upon rocks and trees. With each successive year the antlers are supplemented by one additional prong, so that the number of prongs or tines is a positive indication of the age of the deer. I have counted as many as twenty-two prongs on one horn, or twice that number on the pair. Unlike every other variety of deer, the caribou is antlered in both sexes, the only difference being that in the case of the females the horns are rather smaller, and are more slender and delicate in their formation than those of the males.

The hoofs of the reindeer are very large in proportion to other parts of the body, and, being cloven, they spread greatly in walking. This characteristic peculiarly fits them for travelling upon the crusted snow, through which other deer would break and flounder in a hopeless manner.

Concerning the habits of the reindeer, they are both gregarious and migratory. During the summer season their resort is the open plain or the sea-coast, where, to some extent, they escape from their tormentors, the mosquitos and black flies, and find abundance of food in the tender grasses, the ground birch, or the willow buds. In the autumn they turn their steps toward the woodlands or more sheltered districts, where they spend the long, severe winter, subsisting on tree-buds, moss or lichens.

The breeding season occurs in the early spring, before winter quarters are vacated; and the number of fawns borne by a doe at one time ranges from one to three.

From an economic or commercial point of view, the reindeer is highly prized. By the Laplanders and other people it is domesticated, and takes the place of the horse, the dog, the cow or the goat of other countries. As a traveller it is swift and enduring, being capable of hauling from two to three hundred pounds upon a sled, as much as one hundred miles per day; and as compared with the dog, it possesses the great advantage of being able to obtain its food by the way.

As a source of venison it cannot be excelled, especially in the autumn season, when it is in prime condition. During September and October the males are rolling fat; and as food their flesh is then equal to the finest beef. Of all meats I have ever tasted, certainly reindeer tongues take the first place for daintiness and delicacy of flavor.

From the skins of the reindeer the natives of the Arctic regions make almost every article of winter clothing. For this purpose it is most admirably suited, both because of its great warmth and its remarkable lightness. Through different methods of tanning and dressing it is made adaptable to a great variety of other uses. Sewing thread, lashing twine and other strong lines are also made from sinew obtained from along the spine of this animal.

What the buffalo was to the North American Indian in days gone by, the reindeer is now to the Eskimos and other natives of the north country.