In the various records of Arctic exploration, and
especially in those dealing with the Barren Ground, there is frequent
mention of deer, reindeer, and caribou, leaving the casual reader in
doubt as to how many species of deer inhabit the rocky wilderness
between the woods and the Arctic Sea. As a matter of fact, the Barren
Ground caribou (which name I prefer, as distinguishing it from the
woodland caribou, the only other member of the reindeer tribe existing
on the American continent) is the sole representative of the Cervidse
found in this locality.
The chief distinction between this animal and its cousin
the woodland caribou, or caribou des bois fort in the half-breed
parlance, lies in the different size, the latter having by far the
advantage in height and weight. I have had no opportunity of weighing
specimens of either kind, but should imagine that the woodland must be
fully a third the heavier of the two. I cannot agree with some of the
natural history books which state that the smaller animals carry the
larger horns, as of all the Barren Ground caribou that we killed I never
saw any with horns to compare with the giant antlers of the woodland
caribou of Newfoundland or British Columbia; more irregular, if
possible, they may be, and perhaps have a greater number of points, but
they are far behind in weight, spread, and size of beam. The perfect
double plough is more often seen in the smaller specimen, the larger
animal being usually provided with only one, or with one plough and a
spike. In colour they closely resemble each other, but there is rather
more white noticeable in the representative of the Barren Ground,
especially in the females, while the texture of the coat, as is to be
expected, is finer in the smaller variety. The hoofs have the same
curious “snow-shoe” formation in both cases.
The range of the Barren Ground caribou appears to be from
the islands in the Arctic Sea to the southern part of Hudson's Bay,
while the Mackenzie River is the limit of their western wandering,
although not many years ago they are known to have crossed the Slave
River in the neighbourhood of Fort Smith. In the summer time they keep
to the true Barren Ground, but in the autumn, when their feeding-grounds
are covered with snow, they seek the hanging moss in the woods. From
what I could gather from the Yellow Knife Indians at the east end of the
Great Slave Lake, and from my own personal experience, it was late in
October, immediately after the rutting season, that the great bands of
caribou, commonly known as La Foule, mass up on the edge of the woods,
and start for food and shelter afforded by the stronger growth of pines
farther southward. A month afterwards the males and females separate,
the latter beginning to work their way north again as early as the end
of February; they reach the edge of the woods in April, and drop their
young far out towards the sea-coast in June, by which time the snow is
melting rapidly and the ground showing in patches. The males stay in the
woods till May and never reach the coast, but meet the females on their
way inland at the end of July; from this time they stay together till
the rutting season is over and it is time to seek the woods once more.
The horns are mostly clear of velvet towards the end of
September, but some of the females carry it later even than this; the
old bulls shed their antlers early in December, and the young ones do
the same towards the end of that month, the females being some weeks
later. In June both sexes present a very shabby appearance, as the old
coats have grown long and white and are falling off in patches; by the
end of July the new hair has grown, and the skins are then in their best
condition.
The caribou are extremely uncertain in their movements,
seldom taking the same course in two consecutive years, and thus
affording ground for the universal cry in the North that the caribou are
being killed off. I think there is really much truth in the statement
that they keep a more easterly route than formerly, as they seldom come
in large quantities to the Mackenzie River, where they used to be
particularly numerous in winter. This is in a great measure accounted
for by the fact that great stretches of the country have been burnt/and
so rendered incapable of growing the lichen so dearly beloved by these
animals. The same thing applies at Fort Resolution, where, within the
last decade, the southern shore of the Great Slave Lake has been burnt
and one of the best ranges totally destroyed.
One point that seems to bear out the theory of a more
easterly movement is that within the last three years the caribou have
appeared in their thousands at York Factory on the west side of Hudson’s
Bay, where they have not been seen for over thirty years; but I cannot
believe, judging from the vast herds that I myself saw, that there is
any danger of the caribou being exterminated.
It is absurd to say that the white man is killing them
off, as no white man ever fires a shot at them unless they pass very
close to a Company’s establishment, and the Indians are themselves
surely dying out year by year. Nor is it any argument to say that the
Indians sometimes starve to death from want of success in hunting, as a
glance at Hearne’s Journey to the Northern Ocean in 1771 will show that
the same state of affairs prevailed before the Company had penetrated to
the Great Slave Lake or Mackenzie River. Starvation will always be one
of the features of a Northern Indian’s life, owing to his own
improvidence; his instinct is to camp close on the tracks of the caribou
and move as they move; a permanent house and a winter’s supply of meat
are an abomination to him.
Since the introduction of firearms the Indian has lost
much of his old hunting lore! a snare is almost a thing of the past, but
is still occasionally used when ammunition is scarce. It is no hard
matter to kill caribou in the open country, for the rolling hills
usually give ample cover for a stalk, and even on flat ground they are
easily approached at a run, as they will almost invariably circle head
to wind and give the hunter a chance to cut them off. But it is with the
spear that the vast slaughter in the summer is annually made. The best
swimming-places are known and carefully watched, and woe betide a herd
of caribou if once surrounded in a lake by the small hunting-canoes. One
thrust of the spear, high up in the loins and ranging forward, does the
work. There is no idea of sparing life, no matter what the age or sex of
the victim may be; the lake is red with blood and covered with sometimes
several hundred carcasses, of which fully one-half are thrown away as
not fat enough to be eaten by men who may be starving in a month. Surely
this should exterminate the game; but, if one remonstrates with the
Indians at the waste, the ready answer comes: "Our fathers did this and
have taught us to do the same; they did not kill off the caribou, and
after we are gone there will be plenty for our children.” These animals
are easily induced to swim at any particular spot by putting up a line
of rocks at right angles to the water, and a line of pine bush planted
in the snow across a frozen lake has the same effect; the caribou will
not pass it, but following it along fall an easy prey to the hunter
lying in ambush at the end of the line. In the winter they are killed in
great numbers on the small lakes in the timber, as they seem disinclined
to leave the open lake and will often run close up to the gun rather
than take to the woods. I have heard this accounted for by the
suggestion that they take the report of the gun for a falling tree and
are afraid of being struck if they venture off the lake; but I fancy
their natural curiosity has a great deal to do with this extraordinary
behaviour. It frequently happens that they will run backwards and
forwards within range till the last of the band is killed.
The caribou supplies the Indian with nearly all the
necessaries of life; it gives him food, clothing, house, and the
equivalent of money to spend at the fort. He leaves the trading-post,
after one of his yearly visits, with a supply of ammunition, tea, and
tobacco, a blanket or two, and, if he has made a good seasons hunt, is
perhaps lucky enough to have taken one of the Company’s
duffel capotes (about the best form of greatcoat that I have ever seen).
He has a wife and family waiting for him somewhere on the shore of the
big lake where fish are plentiful, expecting a gaudy dress, a shawl, or
a string of beads from the fort, but relying entirely on the caribou for
maintenance during the awful cold of the coming winter. The journey up
till they fall in with the caribou is usually full of hardships, but
once they have reached the hunting-ground and found game a great
improvement in affairs takes place; the hunter is busy killing, while
the women dry meat and make grease, dress the skins for moccasins,
mittens, and gun-covers, and cut babiche, which takes the place of
string for lacing snow-shoes and many other purposes. For the
hair-coats, which everybody, men, women, and children, wear during the
cold season, the best skins are those of the young animals killed in
July or August, as the hair is short and does not fall off so readily as
in coats made from the skin of a full-grown caribou; while the strong
sinews lying along the back-bone of an old bull make the very best
thread for sewing. Anything that is left over after supplying the whole
family finds a ready sale at the fort, where there is always a demand
for dried meat, tongue-grease, dressed skins, and babiche, so that the
Dog-Ribs and Yellow Knives, whose country produces little fur, with the
exception of musk-ox robes, are thus enabled to afford some few of the
white man's luxuries, tea and . tobacco being especially dear to the
Indian’s heart.
A good hunter kills the caribou with discretion according
to their condition at various seasons of the year. After the females
leave the woods in the early spring he has of course only the males to
fall back on, and these are usually poor till August, when the bones are
full of marrow and the back-fat commences to grow. By the middle of
September this back-fat, or depouille as it is called in Northern
patois, has reached a length of a foot or more forward from the tail,
and, as it is sometimes a couple of inches thick and extends right
across the back, it is a great prize for the lucky hunter. It is a point
of etiquette that when two or more Indians are hunting in company, the
depouille and tongue belong to the man who did the killing, while the
rest of the meat is shared in common.
Towards the end of October, when the rutting season is
over, the males are in very poor condition. The females then come into
demand, but it is not till the end of the year that they show any
back-fat at all, and this is always small in comparison with that of a
bull killed in the Fall. The summer months are generally spent by the
Indians far out in the Barren Ground, and then, as I have said, they
slaughter everything that comes within reach of their spear in the most
indiscriminate manner.
Excepting in times of plenty, when the utmost
recklessness with provisions is displayed, there are very few parts of
the caribou thrown away, and often the actual stomach is the only thing
left; the blood is carefully preserved, and some of the intestines are
prized as great luxuries. If one does not see the actual preparations
for cooking they are good enough, but the favourite dish of all, the
young unborn caribou cut from its dead mother, I could never take kindly
to, although it is considered a delicacy among the Indians throughout
the northern part of Canada. Another morsel held in high esteem is the
udder of a milk-giving doe, which is usually roasted on the spot where
the animal is killed. Of the external parts the ribs and brisket rank
highest, the haunches being generally reserved for dog’s food; a roast
head is not to be despised, and a well-smoked tongue is beyond all
praise. It was the caribou of the Barren Ground that provided the
reindeers’ tongues formerly exported in such quantities by the Hudson’s
Bay Company. The general method of cooking everything in the lodge is by
boiling, which takes most of the flavour out of the meat, but has the
advantage of being easy and economical of firewood.
The marrow is usually eaten raw, and, as there is no
blood visible in the bones of a fat animal, it is not such a disgusting
habit as it seems to be at first sight, and one readily accustoms
oneself to the fashion. Everybody who has travelled in the North has
experienced the same craving for grease as the cold becomes more
intense. In the case of a white man the enforced absence of flour and
all vegetable food may be an additional cause for this feeling; but it
is a fact that you can cheerfully gnaw a solid block of grease or raw
fat that it would make you almost sick to look at in a land of temperate
climate and civilized methods of living.
The Indian is by no means the only enemy of the caribou.
Along the shore of the Arctic Sea live straggling bands of Esquimaux who
kill great quantities of these persecuted animals, although employing
more primitive methods than their southern neighbours; it is done,
moreover, at the most fatal season of the year, just as the females have
arrived at the coast and are dropping their young. Then there are the
ever-hungry wolves and wolverines that hang with such pertinacity on the
travelling herds and rely upon them entirely for subsistence. It is
rarely that a caribou once singled out can escape. The wolves hunt in
bands and seldom leave the track they have selected; the chase lasts for
many hours, till the victim, wearied by the incessant running, leaves
the band and his fate is sealed; he has a little the best of the pace at
first but not the staying power, and is soon pulled to the ground. Many
a time I witnessed these courses, and once disturbed half a dozen wolves
just as they commenced their feast on a caribou in which life was hardly
extinct, and I took the tongue and de-pouille for my share of the hunt.
I only saw wolves of two colours, white and black, during
my stay in the North, although I heard much talk of grey wolves. There
was some sort of disease, resembling mange, among them in the winter of
1889-90, which had the effect of taking off all their hair, and, judging
from the number of dead that were lying about, must have considerably
thinned their numbers. They do not seem to be dangerous to human beings
except when starving; but the Indians have stories of crazy wolves that
run into the lodges, kill the children, and play general havoc. I know
that they do at times get bold under stress of hunger, as my own hauling
dogs were set upon and eaten by them while harnessed to the sleigh close
to the house at Fond du Lac; nothing remained but the sleigh, and a
string of bells that must have proved less tempting than the rest of the
harness.
I scarcely credit the statement I have often heard made,
that the wolverines will kill a full-grown caribou, although it is
possible that they may attack the young ones. They follow the herds more
for the pickings they can get from the feasts of the wolves, and are
content with showing their fighting powers on hares and ptarmigan; if
meat is not to be had they will eat berries freely, and their flesh
is then not so bad as after they have had a long course of meat
The carcajou possesses great strength and cunning in removing rocks and
breaking into a cache; it climbs with great agility, and has a mean
trick of throwing down a marten-trap from behind and taking out the
bait, and is generally credited by the Indian with more wiles than the
devil himself. It is an animal common enough in many parts of Canada,
but is rarely seen in the woods on account of its retiring habits. In
the Barren Ground, however, I had many opportunities of watching them
through the glasses as they worked at the carcass of a caribou or
musk-ox, and was much struck by the enormous power exercised by so small
an animal; in travelling it seems to use only one pace, the lope of the
Western prairies, which it is said to be able to keep up for an
indefinite time.
Another great source of annoyance to the caribou are the
two sorts of gadfly which use these animals as a hatching-ground for
their eggs. The biggest kind, which seem the most numerous, deposit
their eggs on the back, and, as they hatch out the grubs, bore through
the skin and prey on the surrounding flesh. They begin to show in
October, and grow bigger through the winter till the following spring,
the number of holes in many cases rendering the skin absolutely useless
for dressing. The other kind of fly lays its eggs in the nostril, with
the result that in the months of May and June a nest of writhing grubs,
slimmer and more lively than the grubs under the skin, appears at the
root of the tongue; at this time of year the caribou may be often seen
to stop and shake their heads violently, with their horns close to the
ground, evidently greatly troubled by these grubs. Of the latter kind
the Indians who travelled with me in the summer have a great horror,
warning me to be very careful not to eat them, as they have an idea they
would surely grow in a man's throat; and whenever we killed an animal,
the first operation was to cut off its head and remove these unpleasant
objects. By the beginning of August all the grubs have dropped off and
the holes healed up, while the new coat has grown and the skins are then
in their best condition.
I could not hear of any attempt ever having been made to
domesticate the caribou, though there is no good reason why they should
not be trained to do the same work as the reindeer of Northern Europe.
If this were brought about it would do away with the greatest difficulty
of winter travel, the trouble about dog's food, which cripples any
attempt to make a long journey except where game is very plentiful;
wherever there was green timber and hanging moss the caribou might find
its own supper, and would always come in better for food than a thin dog
in times of starvation.
The caribou afford a wide scope for the superstitions so
ingrained in the Indian nature, and the wildest tales without the least
foundation are firmly believed in. One widely-spread fancy is that they
will entirely forsake a country if anyone throws a stick or stone at
them, and their disappearance from the neighbourhood of Fort Resolution
is accounted for by the fact of a boy, who had no gun, joining in the
chase when the caribou were passing in big numbers, and clubbing one to
death with a stick; this belief holds good also down the Mackenzie
River, as does the idea that these animals on some occasions vanish
either into the air or under the ground. The Indians say that sometimes
when following close on a herd they arrive at a spot where the tracks
suddenly cease and the hunter is left to wonder and starve. It is very
unlucky to let the dogs eat any part of the head, and the remaining
bones are always burnt or put up in a tree out of reach, the dogs going
hungry, unless there happens to be some other kind of meat handy.
Another rather more sensible superstition, presumably invented by the
men, is that no woman must eat the gristle of the nose (a much-esteemed
delicacy)or she will infallibly grow a beard.
Such are examples of the endless traditions told of the
caribou, which will always form the chief topic of conversation in the
scattered lodges of the Dog-Ribs and Yellow Knives. |