The Young Voyageurs--Boy Hunters in the North, by Captain Mayne Reid. 

________________________________________________________________________The heroes are the three boys whom we met in "The Boy Hunters" wherethey were off on a search for a white buffalo, which their father hadrequested. Now, however, their father has died, and the only relativethey have is an uncle who works for the Hudson's Bay Company, in thevery north of Canada. The uncle sends for them, and sends his own sonto guide them over the Canadian part of the journey. 

This is the story of their journey from their original home in the southof the U. S. A. , many thousands of miles, to be with their uncle. At thetime the only way they could do this journey was by their own efforts, by canoe, on foot, and, after the onset of winter, by sledge, or, ifthey could get one, by dog-train. 

The canoe and much of their clothes, food and equipment is lost in amajor rapid, so they are very much thrown on their own ingenuity andwoodcraft. One of the boys has a major interest in natural history, andwe hear from him all about the various animals and birds encountered. This is far from being a bore, as the author has taken care to make itinteresting. 

This is a very enjoyable book, even though it is over 150 years since itwas written. 

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THE YOUNG VOYAGEURS--BOY HUNTERS IN THE NORTH, BY CAPTAIN MAYNE REID. 

CHAPTER ONE. 

THE FUR COUNTRIES. 

Boy reader, you have heard of the Hudson's Bay Company? Ten to one, youhave worn a piece of fur, which it has provided for you; if not, yourpretty little sister has--in her muff, or her boa, or as a trimming forher winter dress. Would you like to know something of the countrywhence come these furs?--of the animals whose backs have been strippedto obtain them? As I feel certain that you and I are old friends, Imake bold to answer for you--yes. Come, then! let us journey togetherto the "Fur Countries;" let us cross them from south to north. 

A vast journey it will be. It will cost us many thousand miles oftravel. We shall find neither railway-train, nor steamboat, norstage-coach, to carry us on our way. We shall not even have the help ofa horse. For us no hotel shall spread its luxurious board; no road-sideinn shall hang out its inviting sign and "clean beds;" no roof of anykind shall offer us its hospitable shelter. Our table shall be a rock, a log, or the earth itself; our lodging a tent; and our bed the skin ofa wild beast. Such are the best accommodations we can expect upon ourjourney. Are you still ready to undertake it? Does the prospect notdeter you?

No--I hear you exclaim. I shall be satisfied with the table--what careI for mahogany? With the lodging--I can tent like an Arab. With thebed--fling feathers to the wind!

Enough, brave boy! you shall go with me to the wild regions of the"North-west, " to the far "fur countries" of America. But, first--a wordabout the land through which we are going to travel. 

Take down your Atlas. Bend your eye upon the map of North America. Note two large islands--one upon the right side, Newfoundland; anotherupon the left, Vancouver. Draw a line from one to the other; it willnearly bisect the continent. North of that line you behold a vastterritory. How vast! You may take your scissors, and clip fiftyEnglands out of it! There are lakes there in which you might _drown_England, or make an island of it! Now, you may form some idea of thevastness of that region known as the "fur countries. "

Will you believe me, when I tell you that all this immense tract is awilderness--a howling wilderness, if you like a poetical name? It iseven so. From north to south, from ocean to ocean, --throughout all thatvast domain, there is neither town nor village--hardly anything that canbe dignified with the name of "settlement. " The only signs ofcivilisation to be seen are the "forts, " or trading posts, of theHudson's Bay Company; and these "signs" are few and far--hundreds ofmiles--between. For inhabitants, the country has less than ten thousandwhite men, the _employes_ of the Company; and its native people areIndians of many tribes, living far apart, few in numbers, subsisting bythe chase, and half starving for at least a third part of every year!In truth, the territory can hardly be called "inhabited. " There is nota man to every ten miles; and in many parts of it you may travelhundreds of miles without seeing a face, red, white, or black!

The physical aspect is, therefore, entirely wild. It is very differentin different parts of the territory. One tract is peculiar. It hasbeen long known as the "Barren Grounds. " It is a tract of vast extent. It lies north-west from the shores of Hudson's Bay, extending nearly tothe Mackenzie River. Its rocks are _primitive_. It is a land of hillsand valleys, --of deep dark lakes and sharp-running streams. It is awoodless region. No timber is found there that deserves the name. Notrees but glandular dwarf birches, willows, and black spruce, small andstunted. Even these only grow in isolated valleys. More generally thesurface is covered with coarse sand--the _debris_ of granite orquartz-rock--upon which no vegetable, save the lichen or the moss, canfind life and nourishment. In one respect these "Barren Grounds" areunlike the deserts of Africa: they are well watered. In almost everyvalley there is a lake; and though many of these are landlocked, yet dothey contain fish of several species. Sometimes these lakes communicatewith each other by means of rapid and turbulent streams passing throughnarrow gorges; and lines of those connected lakes form the great riversof the district. 

Such is a large portion of the Hudson's Bay territory. Most of theextensive peninsula of Labrador partakes of a similar character; andthere are other like tracts west of the Rocky Mountain range in the"Russian possessions. "

Yet these "Barren Grounds" have their denizens. Nature has formedanimals that delight to dwell there, and that are never found in morefertile regions. Two ruminating creatures find sustenance upon themosses and lichens that cover their cold rocks: they are the caribou(reindeer) and the musk-ox. These, in their turn, become the food andsubsistence of preying creatures. The wolf, in all its varieties ofgrey, black, white, pied, and dusky, follows upon their trail. The"brown bear, "--a large species, nearly resembling the "grizzly, "--isfound only in the Barren Grounds; and the great "Polar bear" comeswithin their borders, but the latter is a dweller upon their shoresalone, and finds his food among the finny tribes of the seas thatsurround them. In marshy ponds, existing here and there, the musk-rat(_Fibre zibethieus_) builds his house, like that of his larger cousin, the beaver. Upon the water sedge he finds subsistence; but his naturalenemy, the wolverene (_Gulo luscus_), skulks in the same neighbourhood. The "Polar hare" lives upon the leaves and twigs of the dwarfbirch-tree; and this, transformed into its own white flesh, becomes thefood of the Arctic fox. The herbage, sparse though it be, does not growin vain. The seeds fall to the earth, but they are not suffered todecay. They are gathered by the little lemmings and meadow-mice(_arvicolae_), who, in their turn, become the prey of two species of_mustelidae_, the ermine and vison weasels. Have the fish of the lakesno enemy? Yes--a terrible one in the Canada otter. The mink-weasel, too, pursues them; and in summer, the osprey, the great pelican, thecormorant, and the white-headed eagle. 

These are the _fauna_ of the Barren Grounds. Man rarely ventures withintheir boundaries. The wretched creatures who find a living there arethe Esquimaux on their coasts, and a few Chippewa Indians in theinterior, who hunt the caribou, and are known as "caribou-eaters. "Other Indians enter them only in summer, in search of game, orjourneying from point to point; and so perilous are these journeyings, that numbers frequently perish by the way. There are no white men inthe Barren Grounds. The "Company" has no commerce there. No fort isestablished in them: so scarce are the fur-bearing animals of theseparts, their skins would not repay the expense of a "trading post. "

Far different are the "wooded tracts" of the fur countries. These liemostly in the southern and central regions of the Hudson's Bayterritory. There are found the valuable beaver, and the wolverene thatpreys upon it. There dwells the American hare, with its enemy theCanada lynx. There are the squirrels, and the beautiful martens(sables) that hunt them from tree to tree. There are found the foxes ofevery variety, the red, the cross, and the rare and highly-prizedsilver-fox (_Vulpes argentatus_), whose shining skin sells for itsweight in gold! There, too, the black bear (_Ursus Americanus_) yieldsits fine coat to adorn the winter carriage, the holsters of the dragoon, and the shako of the grenadier. There the fur-bearing animals exist ingreatest plenty, and many others whose skins are valuable in commerce, as the moose, the wapiti, and the wood-bison. 

But there is also a "prairie" district in the fur countries. The greattable prairies of North America, that slope eastward from the RockyMountains, also extend northward into the Hudson's Bay territory. Theygradually grow narrower, however, as you proceed farther north, until, on reaching the latitude of the Great Slave Lake, they end altogether. This "prairie land" has its peculiar animals. Upon it roams thebuffalo, the prong-horned antelope, and the mule-deer. There, too, maybe seen the "barking-wolf" and the "swift fox. " It is the favouritehome of the marmots, and the gauffres or sand-rats; and there, too, thenoblest of animals, the horse, runs wild. West of this prairie tract isa region of far different aspect, --the region of the Rocky Mountains. This stupendous chain, sometimes called the Andes of North America, continues throughout the fur countries from their southern limits to theshores of the Arctic Sea. Some of its peaks overlook the waters of thatsea itself, towering up near the coast. Many of these, even in southernlatitudes, carry the "eternal snow. " This "mountain-chain" is, inplaces, of great breadth. Deep valleys lie in its embrace, many ofwhich have never been visited by man. Some are desolate and dreary;others are oases of vegetation, which fascinate the traveller whosefortune it has been, after toiling among naked rocks, to gaze upon theirsmiling fertility. These lovely wilds are the favourite home of manystrange animals. The argali, or mountain-sheep, with his huge curvinghorns, is seen there; and the shaggy wild goat bounds along the steepestcliffs. The black bear wanders through the wooded ravines; and hisfiercer congener, the "grizzly"--the most dreaded of all Americananimals--drags his huge body along the rocky declivities. 

Having crossed the mountains, the fur countries extend westward to thePacific. There you encounter barren plains, treeless and waterless;rapid rivers, that foam through deep, rock-bound channels; and a countryaltogether rougher in aspect, and more mountainous, than that lying tothe east of the great chain. A warmer atmosphere prevails as youapproach the Pacific, and in some places forests of tall trees cover theearth. In these are found most of the fur-bearing animals; and, onaccount of the greater warmth of the climate, the true _felidae_--thelong-tailed cats--here wander much farther north than upon the easternside of the continent. Even so far north as the forests of Oregon theseappear in the forms of the cougar (_Felis concolor_), and the ounce(_Felis onza_). 

But it is not our intention at present to cross the Rocky Mountains. Our journey will lie altogether on the eastern side of that great chain. It will extend from the frontiers of civilisation to the shores of theArctic Sea. It is a long and perilous journey, boy reader; but as wehave made up our minds to it, let us waste no more time in talking, butset forth at once. You are ready? Hurrah!

CHAPTER TWO. 

THE YOUNG VOYAGEURS. 

There is a canoe upon the waters of Red River--Red River of the north. It is near the source of the stream, but passing downward. It is asmall canoe, a frail structure of birch-bark, and contains only fourpersons. They are all young--the eldest of them evidently not overnineteen years of age, and the youngest about fifteen. 

The eldest is nearly full-grown, though his body and limbs have not yetassumed the muscular development of manhood. His complexion is dark, nearly olive. His hair is jet-black, straight as an Indian's, and long. His eyes are large and brilliant, and his features prominent. Hiscountenance expresses courage, and his well-set jaws betoken firmnessand resolution. He does not belie his looks, for he possesses thesequalifications in a high degree. There is a gravity in his manner, somewhat rare in one so young; yet it is not the result of a morosedisposition, but a subdued temperament produced by modesty, good sense, and much experience. Neither has it the air of stupidity. No: youcould easily tell that the mind of this youth, if once roused, wouldexhibit both energy and alertness. His quiet manner has a far differentexpression. It is an air of coolness and confidence, which tells you hehas met with dangers in the past, and would not fear to encounter themagain. It is an expression peculiar, I think, to the hunters of the"Far West, "--those men who dwell amidst dangers in the wild regions ofthe great prairies. Their solitary mode of life begets this expression. They are often for months without the company of a creature with whomthey may converse--months without beholding a human face. They livealone with Nature, surrounded by her majestic forms. These awe theminto habits of silence. Such was in point of fact the case with theyouth whom we have been describing. He had hunted much, though not as aprofessional hunter. With him the chase had been followed merely as apastime; but its pursuit had brought him into situations of peril, andin contact with Nature in her wild solitudes. Young as he was, he hadjourneyed over the grand prairies, and through the pathless forests ofthe West. He had slain the bear and the buffalo, the wild-cat and thecougar. These experiences had made their impression upon his mind, andstamped his countenance with that air of gravity we have noticed. 

The second of the youths whom we shall describe is very different inappearance. He is of blonde complexion, rather pale, with fair silkenhair that waves gently down his cheeks, and falls upon his shoulders. He is far from robust. On the contrary, his form is thin and delicate. It is not the delicacy of feebleness or ill-health, but only a body ofslighter build. The manner in which he handles his oar shows that hepossesses both health and strength, though neither in such a high degreeas the dark youth. His face expresses, perhaps, a larger amount ofintellect, and it is a countenance that would strike you as more openand communicative. The eye is blue and mild, and the brow is marked bythe paleness of study and habits of continued thought. Theseindications are no more than just, for the fair-haired youth _is_ astudent, and one of no ordinary attainments. Although only seventeenyears of age, he is already well versed in the natural sciences; andmany a graduate of Oxford or Cambridge would but ill compare with him. The former might excel in the knowledge--if we can dignify it by thatname--of the laws of scansion, or in the composition of Greek idyls; butin all that constitutes _real_ knowledge he would prove but an idletheorist, a dreamy imbecile, alongside our practical young scholar ofthe West. 

The third and youngest of the party--taking them as they sit from stemto bow--differs in many respects from both those described. He hasneither the gravity of the first, nor yet the intellectuality of thesecond. His face is round, and full, and ruddy. It is bright andsmiling in its expression. His eye dances merrily in his head, and itsglance falls upon everything. His lips are hardly ever at rest. Theyare either engaged in making words--for he talks almost incessantly--orelse contracting and expanding with smiles and joyous laughter. His capis jauntily set, and his fine brown curls, hanging against the richroseate skin of his cheeks, give to his countenance an expression ofextreme health and boyish beauty. His merry laugh and free air tell youhe is not the boy for books. He is not much of a hunter neither. Infact, he is not particularly given to anything--one of those easynatures who take the world as it comes, look upon the bright side ofeverything, without getting sufficiently interested to excel inanything. 

These three youths were dressed nearly alike. The eldest wore thecostume, as near as may be, of a backwoods hunter--a tunic-likehunting-shirt, of dressed buckskin, leggings and mocassins of the samematerial, and all--shirt, leggings, and mocassins--handsomely braidedand embroidered with stained quills of the porcupine. The cape of theshirt was tastefully fringed, and so was the skirt as well as the seamsof the mocassins. On his head was a hairy cap of raccoon skin, and thetail of the animal, with its dark transverse bars, hung down behind likethe drooping plume of a helmet. Around his shoulders were two leathernbelts that crossed each other upon his breast. One of these slung abullet-pouch covered with a violet-green skin that glittered splendidlyin the sun. It was from the head of the "wood-duck" (_Anas sponsa_), the most beautiful bird of its tribe. By the other strap was suspendeda large crescent-shaped horn taken from the head of an Opelousas bull, and carved with various ornamental devices. Other smaller implementshung from the belts, attached by leathern thongs: there was a picker, awiper, and a steel for striking fire with. A third belt--a broad stoutone of alligator leather--encircled the youth's waist. To this wasfastened a holster, and the shining butt of a pistol could be seenprotruding out; a hunting-knife of the kind denominated "bowie" hangingover the left hip, completed his "arms and accoutrements. "

The second of the youths was dressed, as already stated, in a somewhatsimilar manner, though his accoutrements were not of so warlike acharacter. Like the other, he had a powder-horn and pouch, but insteadof knife and pistol, a canvass bag or haversack hung from his shoulder;and had you looked into it, you would have seen that it was half filledwith shells, pieces of rock, and rare plants, gathered during the day--the diurnal storehouse of the geologist, the palaeontologist, andbotanist--to be emptied for study and examination by the nightcamp-fire. Instead of the 'coon-skin cap he wore a white felt hat withbroad leaf; and for leggings and mocassins he had trousers of bluecottonade and laced buskins of tanned leather. 

The youngest of the three was dressed and accoutred much like theeldest, except that his cap was of blue cloth--somewhat after thefashion of the military forage cap. All three wore shirts of colouredcotton, the best for journeying in these uninhabited regions, where soapis scarce, and a laundress not to be had at any price. 

Though very unlike one another, these three youths were brothers. Iknew them well. I had seen them before--about two years before--andthough each had grown several inches taller since that time, I had nodifficulty in recognising them. Even though they were now two thousandmiles from where I had formerly encountered them, I could not bemistaken as to their identity. Beyond a doubt they were the same braveyoung adventurers whom I had met in the swamps of Louisiana, and whoseexploits I had witnessed upon the prairies of Texas. They were the "BoyHunters, "--Basil, Lucien, Francois! I was right glad to renewacquaintance with them. Boy reader, do you share my joy?

But whither go they now? They are full two thousand miles from theirhome in Louisiana. The Red River upon which their canoe floats is notthat Red River, whose blood-like waters sweep through the swamps of thehot South--the home of the alligator and the gar. No, it is a stream ofa far different character, though also one of great magnitude. Upon thebanks of the former ripens the rice-plant, and the sugar-cane waves itsgolden tassels high in the air. There, too, flourishes the giant reed(_Arundo gigantea_), the fan-palm (_Chamaerops_), and the broad-leafedmagnolia, with its huge snow-white flowers. There the aspect isSouthern, and the heat tropical for most part of the year. 

All this is reversed on the Red River of the North. It is true that onits banks sugar is also produced; but it is no longer from a plant but alordly tree--the great sugar-maple (_Acer saccharinum_). There is ricetoo, --vast fields of rice upon its marshy borders; but it is not thepearly grain of the South. It is the wild rice, "the water oats"(_Zizania aquatica_), the food of millions of winged creatures, andthousands of human beings as well. Here for three-fourths of the yearthe sun is feeble, and the aspect that of winter. For months the coldwaters are bound up in an icy embrace. The earth is covered with thicksnow, over which rise the needle-leafed _coniferae_--the pines, thecedars, the spruce, and the hemlock. Very unlike each other are thecountries watered by the two streams, the Red River of the South and itsnamesake of the North. 

But whither go our Boy Hunters in their birch-bark canoe? The riverupon which they are _voyaging_ runs due northward into the great LakeWinnipeg. They are floating with its current, and consequentlyincreasing the distance from their home. Whither go they?

The answer leads us to some sad reflections. Our joy on again beholdingthem is to be mingled with grief. When we last saw them they had afather, but no mother. Now they have neither one nor theother. The old Colonel, their father--the French _emigre_, the_hunter-naturalist_--is dead. He who had taught them all they knew, whohad taught them "to ride, to swim, to dive deep rivers, to fling thelasso, to climb tall trees, and scale steep cliffs, to bring down birdsupon the wing or beasts upon the run, with the arrow and the unerringrifle; who had trained them to sleep in the open air, in the darkforest, on the unsheltered prairie, along the white snow-wreath--anywhere--with but a blanket or a buffalo-robe for their bed; who hadtaught them to live on the simplest food, and had imparted to one ofthem a knowledge of science, of botany in particular, that enabled them, in case of need, to draw sustenance from plants and trees, from rootsand fruits, to find resources where ignorant men would starve; hadtaught them to kindle a fire without flint, steel, or detonating powder;to discover their direction without a compass, from the rocks and thetrees and the signs of the heavens; and in addition to all, had taughtthem, as far as was then known, the geography of that vast wildernessthat stretches from the Mississippi to the shores of the Pacific Ocean, and northward to the icy borders of the Arctic Sea"--he who had taughtthem all this, their father, was no more; and his three sons, the "boymen, " of whom he was so proud, and of whose accomplishments he was wontto boast, were now orphans upon the wide world. 

But little more than a year after their return from their grandexpedition to the Texan prairies, the "old Colonel" had died. It wasone of the worst years of that scourge of the South--the yellow fever--and to this dread pestilence he had fallen a victim. 

Hugot, the _ex-chasseur_ and attached domestic, who was accustomed tofollow his master like a shadow, had also followed him into the nextworld. It was not grief that killed Hugot, though he bore the loss ofhis kind master sadly enough. But it was not grief that killed Hugot. He was laid low by the same disease of which his master had died--theyellow fever. A week had scarcely passed after the death of the latter, before Hugot caught the disease, and in a few days he was carried to thetomb and laid by the side of his "old Colonel. "

The Boy Hunters--Basil, Lucien, Francois--became orphans. They knew ofbut _one_ relation in the whole world, with whom their father had keptup any correspondence. This relation was an uncle, and, strange as itmay seem, a Scotchman--a Highlander, who had strayed to Corsica in earlylife, and had there married the Colonel's sister. That uncle hadafterwards emigrated to Canada, and had become extensively engaged inthe fur trade. He was now a superintendent or "factor" of the Hudson'sBay Company, stationed at one of their most remote posts near the shoresof the Arctic Sea! There is a romance in the history of some men wilderthan any fiction that could be imagined. 

I have not yet answered the question as to where our Boy Hunters werejourneying in their birch-bark canoe. By this time you will havedivined the answer. Certainly, you will say, they were on their way tojoin their uncle in his remote home. For no other object could they betravelling through the wild regions of the Red River. That suppositionis correct. To visit this Scotch uncle (they had not seen him foryears) was the object of their long, toilsome, and perilous journey. After their father's death he had sent for them. He had heard of theirexploits upon the prairies; and, being himself of an adventurousdisposition, he was filled with admiration for his young kinsmen, anddesired very much to have them come and live with him. Being now theirguardian, he might command as much, but it needed not any exercise ofauthority on his part to induce all three of them to obey his summons. They had travelled through the mighty forests of the Mississippi, andupon the summer prairies of the South. These great features of theearth's surface were to them familiar things, and they were no longercurious about them. But there remained a vast country which they longedeagerly to explore. They longed to look upon its shining lakes andcrystal rivers; upon its snow-clad hills and ice-bound streams; upon itshuge mammalia--its moose and its musk-oxen, its wapiti and its monsterbears. This was the very country to which they were now invited bytheir kinsman, and cheerfully did they accept his invitation. Alreadyhad they made one-half the journey, though by far the easier half. Theyhad travelled up the Mississippi, by steamboat as far as the mouth ofthe Saint Peter's. There they had commenced their canoe voyage--inother words became "voyageurs"--for such is the name given to those whotravel by canoes through these wild territories. Their favourite horsesand the mule "Jeannette" had been left behind. This was a necessity, asthese creatures, however useful upon the dry prairies of the South, where there are few or no lakes, and where rivers only occur at longintervals, would be of little service to the traveller in the Northernregions. Here the route is crossed and intercepted by numerous rivers;and lakes of all sizes, with tracts of inundated marsh, succeed oneanother continually. Such, in fact, are the highways of the country, and the canoe the travelling carriage; so that a journey from one pointof the Hudson's Bay territory to another is often a canoe voyage ofthousands of miles--equal to a "trip" across the Atlantic!

Following the usual custom, therefore, our Boy Hunters had becomevoyageurs--"_Young Voyageurs_. " They had navigated the Saint Peter's insafety, almost to its head-waters. These interlock with the sources ofthe Red River. By a "portage" of a few miles they had crossed to thelatter stream; and, having launched their canoe upon its waters, werenow floating downward and northward with its current. But they had yeta long journey before them--nearly two thousand miles! Many a river tobe "run, " many a rapid to be "shot, " many a lake to be crossed, and manya "portage" to be passed, ere they could reach the end of that great_voyage_. 

Come, boy reader, shall we accompany them? Yes. The strange scenes andwild adventures through which we must pass, may lighten the toils, andperhaps repay us for the perils, of the journey. Think not of thetoils. Roses grow only upon thorns. From toil we learn to enjoyleisure. Regard not the perils. "From the nettle danger we pluck theflower safety. " Security often springs from peril. From such hardexperiences great men have arisen. Come, then, my young friend! mindneither toil nor peril, but with me to the great wilderness of theNorth!

Stay! We are to have another "_compagnon du voyage_. " There is afourth in the boat, a fourth "young voyageur. " Who is he? Inappearance he is as old as Basil, full as tall, and not unlike him in"build. " But he is altogether of a different _colour_. He isfair-haired; but his hair (unlike that of Lucien, which is alsolight-coloured) is strong, crisp, and curly. It does not droop, butstands out over his cheeks in a profusion of handsome ringlets. Hiscomplexion is of that kind known as "fresh, " and the weather, to whichit has evidently been much exposed, has bronzed and rather enriched thecolour. The eyes are dark blue, and, strange to say, with _black_ browsand lashes! This is not common, though sometimes observed; and, in thecase of the youth we are describing, arose from a difference ofcomplexion on the part of his parents. He looked through the eyes ofhis mother, while in other respects he was more like his father, who wasfair-haired and of a "fresh" colour. 

The youth, himself, might be termed handsome. Perhaps he did notpossess the youthful beauty of Francois, nor the bolder kind thatcharacterised the face of Basil. Perhaps he was of a coarser "make"than any of his three companions. His intellect had been lesscultivated by education, and _education adds to the beauty of the face_. His life had been a harder one--he had toiled more with his hands, andhad seen less of civilised society. Still many would have pronouncedhim a handsome youth. His features were regular, and of clean outline. His lips expressed good-nature as well as firmness. His eye beamed withnative intelligence, and his whole face bespoke a heart of true anddetermined honesty--_that made it beautiful_. 

Perhaps a close scrutiniser of countenances might have detected someresemblance--a family one--between him and his three companions. Ifsuch there was, it was very slight; but there might have been, from therelationship that existed between them and him. He was their cousin--their full cousin--the only son of that uncle they were now on their wayto visit, and the new-comer who had been sent to bring them. Such wasthe fourth of "the young voyageurs. "

His dress was not unlike that worn by Basil; but as he was seated on thebow, and acting as pilot, and therefore more likely to feel the cold, hewore over his hunting-shirt a Canadian _capote_ of white woollen cloth, with its hood hanging, down upon his shoulders. 

But there was still another "voyageur, " an old acquaintance, whom you, boy reader, will no doubt remember. This was an animal, a quadruped, who lay along the bottom of the canoe upon a buffalo's hide. "From hissize and colour--which was a tawny red--you might have mistaken him fora panther--a cougar. His long black muzzle and broad hanging ears gavehim quite a different aspect, however, and declared him to be a hound. He _was_ one--a bloodhound, with the build of a mastiff--a powerfulanimal. He was the dog `Marengo. '" You remember Marengo?

In the canoe there were other objects of interest. There were blanketsand buffalo-robes; there was a small canvass tent folded up; there werebags of provisions, and some cooking utensils; there was a spade and anaxe; there were rifles--three of them--and a double-barrelled shot-gun;besides a fish-net, and many other articles, the necessary equipmentsfor such a journey. 

Loaded almost to the gunwale was that little canoe, yet lightly did itfloat down the waters of the Red River of the North. 

CHAPTER THREE. 

THE TRUMPETER SWAN AND THE BALD EAGLE. 

It was the spring season, though late. The snow had entirelydisappeared from the hills, and the ice from the water, and the meltingof both had swollen the river, and rendered its current more rapid thanusual. Our young voyageurs needed not therefore to ply their oars, except now and then to guide the canoe; for these little vessels have norudder, but are steered by the paddles. The skilful voyageurs can shootthem to any point they please, simply by their dexterous handling of theoars; and Basil, Lucien, and Francois, had had sufficient practice bothwith "skiffs" and "dugouts" to make good oarsmen of all three. They hadmade many a canoe trip upon the lower Mississippi and the bayous ofLouisiana; besides their journey up the Saint Peter's had rendered themfamiliar with the management of their birchen craft. An occasionalstroke of the paddle kept them in their course, and they floated onwithout effort. Norman--such was the name of their Canadian or Highlandcousin--sat in the bow and directed their course. This is the post ofhonour in a canoe; and as he had more experience than any of them inthis sort of navigation, he was allowed habitually to occupy this post. Lucien sat in the stern. He held in his hands a book and pencil; and asthe canoe glided onward, he was noting down his memoranda. The treesupon the banks were in leaf--many of them in blossom--and as the littlecraft verged near the shore, his keen eye followed the configuration ofthe leaves, to discover any new species that might appear. There is arich vegetation upon the banks of the Red River; but the _flora_ is fardifferent from that which appears upon the low _alluvion_ of Louisiana. It is Northern, but not Arctic. Oaks, elms, and poplars, are seenmingling with birches, willows, and aspens. Several species ofindigenous fruit trees were observed by Lucien, among which werecrab-apple, raspberry, strawberry, and currant. There was also seen thefruit called by the voyageurs "le poire, " but which in Englishphraseology is known as the "service-berry" (_Amelanchier ovalis_). Itgrows upon a small bush or shrub of six or eight feet high, with smoothpinnate leaves. These pretty red berries are much esteemed and eatenboth by Indians and whites, who preserve them by drying, and cook themin various ways. There was still another bush that fixed the attentionof our young botanist, as it appeared all along the banks, and was a_characteristic_ of the vegetation of the country. It was not overeight feet in height, with spreading branches of a grey colour. Itsleaves were three inches wide, and somewhat lobed liked those of theoak. Of course, at this early season, the fruit was not ripe upon it;but Lucien knew the fruit well. When ripe it resembles very much a redcherry, or, still more, a cranberry, having both the appearance andacrid taste of the latter. Indeed, it is sometimes used as a substitutefor cranberries in the making of pies and tarts; and in many parts it iscalled the "bush cranberry. " The name, however, by which it is knownamong the Indians of Red River is "_anepeminan_, " from "_nepen_, "summer, and "_minan_" berry. This has been corrupted by the fur-tradersand voyageurs into "Pembina;" hence, the name of a river which runs intothe Red, and also he name of the celebrated but unsuccessful settlementof "Pembina, " formed by Lord Selkirk many years ago. Both took theirnames from this berry that grows in abundance in the neighbourhood. Thebotanical appellation of this curious shrub is _Viburnum oxycoccos_; butthere is another species of the viburnum, which is also styled"oxycoccos. " The common "snowball bush" of our gardens is a plant ofthe same genus, and very like the "Pembina" both in leaf and flower. Infact, in a wild state they might be regarded as the same; but it iswell-known that the flowers of the snowball are sterile, and do notproduce the beautiful bright crimson berries of the "Pembina. " Lucienlectured upon these points to his companions as they floated along. Norman listened with astonishment to his philosophic cousin, who, although he had never been in this region before, knew more of itsplants and trees than he did himself. Basil also was interested in theexplanations given by his brother. On the contrary, Francois, who caredbut little for botanical studies, or studies of any sort, was occupieddifferently. He sat near the middle of the canoe, double-barrel inhand, eagerly watching for a shot. Many species of water-fowl were uponthe river, for it was now late in the spring, and the wild geese andducks had all arrived, and were passing northward upon their annualmigration. During the day Francois had got several shots, and had"bagged" three wild geese, all of different kinds, for there are manyspecies of wild geese in America. He had also shot some ducks. Butthis did not satisfy him. There was a bird upon the river that couldnot be approached. No matter how the canoe was manoeuvred, this shycreature always took flight before Francois could get within range. Fordays he had been endeavouring to kill one. Even upon the Saint Peter'smany of them had been seen, sometimes in pairs, at other times in smallflocks of six or seven, but always shy and wary. The very difficulty ofgetting a shot at them, along with the splendid character of the birdsthemselves, had rendered Francois eager to obtain one. The bird itselfwas no other than the great wild swan--the king of aquatic birds. 

"Come, brother!" said Francois, addressing Lucien, "bother yourviburnums and your oxycocks! Tell us something about these swans. See!there goes another of them! What a splendid fellow he is! I'd givesomething to have him within range of buck-shot. "

As Francois spoke he pointed down-stream to a great white bird that wasseen moving out from the bank. It was a swan, and one of the verylargest kind--a "trumpeter" (_Cygnus buccinator_). 

It had been feeding in a sedge of the wild rice (_Zizania aquatica_), and no doubt the sight of the canoe or the plash of the guiding oar haddisturbed, and given it the alarm. It shot out from the reeds with headerect and wings slightly raised, offering to the eyes of the voyageurs aspectacle of graceful and majestic bearing, that, among the featheredrace at least, is quite inimitable. 

A few strokes of its broad feet propelled it into the open water nearthe middle of the stream, when, making a half wheel, it turned head downthe river, and swam with the current. 

At the point where it turned it was not two hundred yards ahead of thecanoe. Its apparent boldness in permitting them to come so near withouttaking wing, led Francois to hope that they might get still nearer; and, begging his companions to ply the paddles, he seized hold of hisdouble-barrel, and leaned forward in the canoe. Basil also conceived ahope that a shot was to be had, for he took up his rifle, and looked tothe cock and cap. The others went steadily and quietly to work at theoars. In a few moments the canoe cleft the current at the rate of agalloping horse, and one would have supposed that the swan must eitherat once take wing or be overtaken. 

Not so, however. The "trumpeter" knew his game better than that. Hehad full confidence both in his strength and speed upon the water. Hewas not going to undergo the trouble of a fly, until the necessity arosefor so doing; and, as it was, he seemed to be satisfied that thatnecessity had not yet arrived. The swim cost him much less muscularexertion than flying would have done, and he judged that the current, here very swift, would carry him out of reach of his pursuers. 

It soon began to appear that he judged rightly; and the voyageurs, totheir chagrin, saw that, instead of gaining upon him, as they hadexpected, every moment widened the distance between him and the canoe. The bird had an advantage over his pursuers. Three distinct powerspropelled him, while they had only two to rely upon. He had the currentin his favour--so had they. He had oars or paddles--his feet; they hadoars as well. He "carried sail, " while they spread not a "rag. " Thewind chanced to blow directly down-stream, and the broad wings of thebird, held out from his body, and half extended, caught the very pith ofthe breeze on their double concave surfaces, and carried him through thewater with the velocity of an arrow. Do you think that he was not awareof this advantage when he started in the race? Do you suppose thatthese birds do not _think_? I for one am satisfied they do, and lookupon every one who prates about the _instinct_ of these creatures as aphilosopher of a very old school indeed. Not only does the great swanthink, but so does your parrot, and your piping bullfinch, and thelittle canary that hops on your thumb. All think, and _reason_, and_judge_. Should it ever be your fortune to witness the performance ofthose marvellous birds, exhibited by the graceful MademoiselleVandermeersch in the fashionable _salons_ of Paris and London, you willagree with me in the belief that the smallest of them has a mind likeyourself. 

Most certainly the swan, which our voyageurs were pursuing, thought, andreasoned, and judged, and calculated his distance, and resolved to keepon "the even tenor of his way, " without putting himself to extra troubleby beating the air with his wings, and lifting his heavy body--thirtypounds at least--up into the heavens. His judgment proved sound; for, in less than ten minutes from the commencement of the chase, he hadgained a clear hundred yards upon his pursuers, and continued to widenthe distance. At intervals he raised his beak higher than usual, anduttered his loud booming note, which fell upon the ears of the voyageursas though it had been sent back in mockery and defiance. 

They would have given up the pursuit, had they not noticed that a fewhundred yards farther down the river made a sharp turn to the right. The swan, on reaching this, would no longer have the wind in his favour. This inspired them with fresh hopes. They thought they would be ableto overtake him after passing the bend, and then, either get a shot athim, or force him into the air. The latter was the more likely; and, although it would be no great gratification to see him fly off, yet theyhad become so interested in this singular chase that they desired toterminate it by putting the trumpeter to some trouble. They bent, therefore, with fresh energy to their oars, and pulled onward in thepursuit. First the swan, and after him the canoe, swung round the bend, and entered the new "reach" of the river. The voyageurs at onceperceived that the bird now swam more slowly. He no longer "carriedsail, " as the wind was no longer in his favour. His wings lay closelyfolded to his body, and he moved only by the aid of his webbed feet andthe current, which last happened to be sluggish, as the river at thispart spread over a wide expanse of level land. The canoe was evidentlycatching up, and each stroke was bringing the pursuers nearer to thepursued. 

After a few minutes' brisk pulling, the trumpeter had lost so muchground that he was not two hundred yards in the advance, and "deadahead. " His body was no longer carried with the same gracefulness, andthe majestic curving of his neck had disappeared. His bill protrudedforward, and his thighs began to drag the water in his wake. He wasevidently on the threshold of flight. Both Francois and Basil saw this, as they stood with their guns crossed and ready. 

At this moment a shrill cry sounded over the water. It was the screamof some wild creature, ending in a strange laugh, like the laugh of amaniac!

On both sides of the river there was a thick forest of tall trees of thecotton-wood species (_Populus angustifolia_). From this forest thestrange cry had proceeded, and from the right bank. Its echoes hadhardly ceased, when it was answered by a similar cry from the trees uponthe left. So like were the two, that it seemed as if some one of God'swild creatures was mocking another. These cries were hideous enough tofrighten any one not used to them. They had not that effect upon ourvoyageurs, who knew their import. One and all of them were familiarwith the voice of the _white-headed eagle_!

The trumpeter knew it as well as any of them, but on him it produced afar different effect. His terror was apparent, and his intention wasall at once changed. Instead of rising into the air, as he hadpremeditated, he suddenly lowered his head, and disappeared under thewater!

Again was heard the wild scream and the maniac laugh; and the nextmoment an eagle swept out from the timber, and, after a few strokes ofits broad wing, poised itself over the spot where the trumpeter had gonedown. The other, its mate, was seen crossing at the same time from theopposite side. 

Presently the swan rose to the surface, but his head was hardly out ofthe water when the eagle once more uttered its wild note, and, halffolding its wings, darted down from above. The swan seemed to haveexpected this, for before the eagle could reach the surface, he had goneunder a second time, and the latter, though passing with the velocity ofan arrow, plunged his talons in the water to no purpose. With a cry ofdisappointment the eagle mounted back into the air, and commencedwheeling in circles over the spot. It was now joined by its mate, andboth kept round and round watching for the reappearance of theirintended victim. 

Again the swan came to the surface, but before either of the eaglescould swoop upon him he had for the third time disappeared. The swan isbut an indifferent diver; but under such circumstances he was likely todo his best at it. But what could it avail him? He must soon rise tothe surface to take breath--each time at shorter intervals. He wouldsoon become fatigued and unable to dive with sufficient celerity, andthen his cruel enemies would be down upon him with their terribletalons. Such is the usual result, unless the swan takes to the air, which he sometimes does. In the present case he had built his hopesupon a different means of escape. He contemplated being able to concealhimself in a heavy sedge of bulrushes (_Scirpus lacustris_) that grewalong the edge of the river, and towards these he was evidentlydirecting his course under the water. At each emersion he appeared someyards nearer them, until at length he rose within a few feet of theirmargin, and diving again was seen no more! He had crept in among thesedge, and no doubt was lying with only his head, or part of it, abovethe water, his body concealed by the broad leaves of the _nymphae_, while the head itself could not be distinguished among the white flowersthat lay thickly along the surface. The eagles now wheeled over thesedge, flapping the tops of the bulrushes with their broad wings, andscreaming with disappointed rage. Keen as were their eyes they couldnot discover the hiding-place of their victim. No doubt they would havesearched for it a long while, but the canoe--which they now appeared tonotice for the first time--had floated near; and, becoming aware oftheir own danger, both mounted into the air again, and with a farewellscream flew off, and alighted at some distance down the river. 

"A swan for supper!" shouted Francois, as he poised his gun for theexpected shot. 

The canoe was headed for the bulrushes near the point where thetrumpeter had been last seen; and a few strokes of the paddles broughtthe little craft with a whizzing sound among the sedge. But the culmsof the rushes were so tall, and grew so closely together, that thecanoemen, after entering, found to their chagrin they could not see sixfeet around them. They dared not stand up, for this is exceedinglydangerous in a birch canoe, where the greatest caution is necessary tokeep the vessel from careening over. Moreover, the sedge was so thick, that it was with difficulty they could use their oars. They remainedstationary for a time, surrounded by a wall of green bulrush. They soonperceived that that would never do, and resolved to push back into theopen water. Meanwhile Marengo had been sent into the sedge, and was nowheard plunging and sweltering about in search of the game. Marengo wasnot much of a water-dog by nature, but he had been trained to almostevery kind of hunting, and his experience among the swamps of Louisianahad long since relieved him of all dread for the water. His masterstherefore had no fear but that Marengo would "put up" the trumpeter. 

Marengo had been let loose a little too soon. Before the canoe could becleared of the entangling sedge, the dog was heard to utter one of hisloud growls, then followed a heavy plunge, there was a confusedfluttering of wings, and the great white bird rose majestically into theair! Before either of the gunners could direct their aim, he was beyondthe range of shot, and both prudently reserved their fire. Marengohaving performed his part, swam back to the canoe, and was lifted overthe gunwale. The swan, after clearing the sedge, rose almost verticallyinto the air. These birds usually fly at a great elevation--sometimesentirely beyond the reach of sight. Unlike the wild geese and ducks, they never alight upon land, but always upon the bosom of the water. Itwas evidently the intention of this one to go far from the scene of hislate dangers, perhaps to the great Lake Winnipeg itself. Afterattaining a height of several hundred yards, he flew forward in ahorizontal course, and followed the direction of the stream. His flightwas now regular, and his trumpet-note could be heard at intervals, as, with outstretched neck, he glided along the heavens. He seemed to feelthe pleasant sensations that every creature has after an escape fromdanger, and no doubt he fancied himself secure. But in this fancy hedeceived himself. Better for him had he risen a few hundred yardshigher, or else had uttered his self-gratulation in a more subdued tone;for it was heard and answered, and that response was the maniac laugh ofthe white-headed eagle. At the same instant two of these birds--thosealready introduced--were seen mounting into the air. They did not flyup vertically, as the swan had done, but in spiral curves, wheeling andcrossing each other as they ascended. They were making for a point thatwould intersect the flight of the swan should he keep on in hishorizontal course. This, however, he did not do. With an eye as quickas theirs, he saw that he was "headed;" and, stretching his long neckupward, he again pursued an almost vertical line. But he had to carrythirty pounds of flesh and bones, while the largest of the eagles--thefemale bird--with a still broader spread of wing, was a "light weight"of only seven. The result of this difference was soon apparent. Beforethe trumpeter had got two hundred yards higher, the female of the eagleswas seen wheeling around him on the same level. The swan was nowobserved to double, fly downward, and then upward again, while hismournful note echoed back to the earth. But his efforts were in vain. After a series of contortions and manoeuvres, the eagle darted forward, with a quick toss threw herself back downward, and, striking upward, planted her talons in the under part of the wing of her victim. Thelacerated shaft fell uselessly down; and the great white bird, no longercapable of flight, came whistling through the air. But it was notallowed to drop directly to the earth; it would have fallen on the bosomof the broad river, and that the eagles did not wish, as it would havegiven them some trouble to get the heavy carcass ashore. As soon as themale--who was lower in the air--saw that his partner had struck thebird, he discontinued his upward flight, and, poising himself on hisspread tail, waited its descent. A single instant was sufficient. Thewhite object passed him still fluttering; but the moment it was belowhis level he shot after it like an arrow, and, clutching it in histalons, with an outward stroke sent it whizzing in a diagonal direction. The next moment a crashing was heard among the twigs, and a dull soundannounced that the swan had fallen upon the earth. 

The eagles were now seen sailing downward, and soon disappeared amongthe tops of the trees. 

The canoe soon reached the bank; and Francois, accompanied by Basil andMarengo, leaped ashore, and went in search of the birds. They found theswan quite dead and lying upon its back as the eagles had turned it. Its breast was torn open, and the crimson blood, with which they hadbeen gorging themselves, was spread in broad flakes over its snowyplumage. The eagles themselves, scared by the dog Marengo, had takenflight before the boys could get within shot of them. 

As it was just the hour for a "noon halt" and a luncheon, the swan wascarried to the bank of the river, where a crackling fire was soonkindled to roast him; and while this operation was going on the"naturalist" was requested by his companions to give them an account ofthe "swans of America. "

CHAPTER FOUR. 

THE SWANS OF AMERICA. 

"Very well, then, " said Lucien, agreeing to the request. "I shall tellyou all I know of the swans; and, indeed, that is not much, as thenatural history of these birds in their wild state is but littleunderstood. On account of their shy habits, there is not muchopportunity of observing them; and as they annually migrate and breed inthose desolate regions within the Arctic circle, where civilised men donot live, but little information has been collected about them. Some ofthe species, however, breed in the temperate zones, and the habits ofthese are better known. 

"For a long time it was fancied there was but one species of swan. Itis now known that there are several, distinguished from each other inform, colour, voice, and habits. `White as a swan, ' is a simile as old, perhaps; as language itself. This, I fancy, would sound strangely tothe ears of a native Australian, who is accustomed to look upon swans asbeing of the very opposite colour, for the black swan is a native ofthat country. 

"According to the naturalist Brehm, who has given much attention to thissubject, there are four distinct species of swans in Europe. They areall white, though some of the species have a reddish orange tinge aboutthe head and neck. Two of them are `gibbous, ' that is, with a knob orprotuberance upon the upper part of the bill. One of these Brehm termsthe `white-headed gibbous swan' (_Cygnus gibbus_). The other is the`yellow-headed' (_Cygnus olor_); and this last also is known as the_mute_ or _tame_ swan, because it is that species most commonly seen ina tame state upon the ornamental lakes and ponds of England. The othertwo European species Brehm has designated `singing swans, ' as both ofthem utter a note that may be heard to a considerable distance. 

"The black swan of Australia (_Cygnus niger_) has been naturalised inEurope, and breeds freely in England, where, from its great size andpeculiar markings, it is one of the most ornamental of water-fowls. Itis, moreover, a great tyrant, and will not permit other birds toapproach its haunt, but drives them off, striking them furiously withits strong broad wings. 

"Until a late period the swans of America were supposed to be all of onekind. This is not the case. There are now known to be three distinctspecies inhabiting the fur countries, and migrating annually to theSouth. That which is best known is the `whistler, ' or `hooper' (_CygnusAmericanus_), because it is the species that abounds in the old Statesupon the Atlantic, and was therefore more observed by naturalists. Itis believed to be identical with one of the European `singing' swans(_Cygnus ferus_), but this is not certain; and for my part, I believethey are different, as the eggs of the American swan are greenish, whilethose of its European congener are brownish, with white blotches. 

"The `hooper' is four and a half feet in length, though there are malesstill larger, some of them measuring five feet. Its colour is white, except upon the head and back part of the neck, where there is a copperytinge. The bill and feet are black. From the angle of the mouth to theeye there is a small naked `cere, ' of a bright yellow colour. Theseswans, like others of the genus, do not care much for the salt water. They are rarely seen upon the sea, except near its shores, where theymay find the aquatic plants upon which they feed. Nor do they go outupon the large lakes. When found upon these, it is generally close into the land. This is accounted for by the fact that the swans do not`dive' for their food, but stretch down for it with their long necks, which Nature has peculiarly adapted to this very purpose. Theirfavourite food consists of the roots of aquatic plants, which are oftenfarinaceous. As these grow best in the shallow small lakes and alongthe margins of rivers, such places are the usual resort of the swans. Although their diet is a vegetable one, it is not exclusively so, asthey will eat frogs, worms, and small fish. Unlike the ducks and geese, they rarely feed upon land, but while floating upon the surface of thewater. They walk but awkwardly on land, and are at home only on wateror in the air. In the air they are quite at home, and fly so swiftlythat it is no easy matter to shoot them, especially when going beforethe wind. At such times they are supposed to fly at the rate of onehundred miles an hour. When moulting, and unable to rise into the air, it is no easy matter to follow them even with a canoe. By means oftheir broad feet and strong wings, they can flutter so quickly over thewater, now and then diving, that the hunter cannot overtake them in hisboat, but is obliged to use his gun in the pursuit. 

"The `hoopers' are migratory, --that is, they pass to the north everyspring, and southward again in the autumn. Why they make these annualmigrations, remains one of the mysteries of nature. Some believe theymigrate to the north, because they there find those desolate uninhabitedregions where they can bring forth their young in security. But thisexplanation cannot be the true one, as there are also uninhabitedregions in the south, even under the equator, where they may be equallyfree from the presence of man. Another explanation might be offered. In hot and tropical countries most of the small lakes and swamps, wherethese birds love to dwell, dry up during the summer months: hence thenecessity of a migration to colder and moister regions. But this wouldonly hold good of the wading and water birds; it would not account forthe migration of the many other birds of passage. 

"A better explanation may be this: The north and the cold zones are thenatural habitat of most migratory birds. It is there that they bringforth their young, and there they are at home. In tropical regions theyare only sojourners for a season, forced thither, some of them, by acold which they do not relish; but others, such as the water-fowl, bythe frost, which, binding up the lakes, rivers, and swamps, hinders themfrom procuring their food. They are thus compelled to make an annualmigration to the open waters of the South, but as soon as the ice hasgiven way before the genial breath of spring, they all return rejoicingto their favourite home in the North, when their season of lovecommences. 

"The `hoopers' follow this general law, and migrate to the northwardevery spring. They breed upon islets in the numerous lakes that studthe whole northern part of the American continent. Eminences in swampsare also chosen for breeding places, and the ends of promontories thatjut out into the water. The spot selected is always such that the swan, when seated upon her nest, can have a view of the surrounding country, and detect any enemy long before it can approach her. The top of thedome-shaped dwellings of the musk-rat, or musquash (_Fibre zibethicus_), is often selected by the swan for her nest. These curious little housesare usually in the midst of impenetrable swamps: they are only occupiedby their builders during the winter; and as they are deserted by them inearly spring, they are therefore quite at the service of the swan forthe `balance of the season. ' The bird makes a large cavity in the top, and lines it with such reeds and grass as may be found near the spot. 

"The hooper lays from six to eight eggs, and sits upon them for a periodof six weeks, when the cygnets come forth covered with a thick down of abluish-grey colour. While sitting upon her eggs, the swan isexceedingly watchful and shy. She `faces' towards the point whence shemost apprehends danger. When the weather is severe, and the wind coldand keen, she changes into that position which is most comfortable. Ifher nest be upon a promontory instead of an island, she usually sitswith her head to the land, as she feels secure that no enemy will reachher from the waterside. From the land she has not only man to `lookout' for, but the wolverene (_Gulo luscus_), the lynx (_FelisCanadensis_), foxes, and wolves. 

"The Indians often snare the swan upon her nest. Of course the snare--arunning noose made from the intestines of the deer--is set in herabsence. It is placed upon the side by which she enters, as these birdsenter and leave the nest upon opposite sides. The snare must bearranged with great care, and with _clean hands_; and the Indians alwaystake the precaution to wash their hands before setting it, else theswans, whose sense of smell is very acute, will perceive the presence ofdanger, and will not only keep away for a time, but sometimes desert theeggs altogether. There are many other birds that have a similar habit. 

"So much for the `hooper, '" continued Lucien; "now for the `trumpeter. 'This is the largest of the American swans, being found to measureseventy inches in length. Its specific name `trumpeter' (Cygnus_buccinator_) is given to it on account of its note, which resembles thesound of a French horn, or trumpet, played at a distance. The bird iswhite, with black bill and feet, and has also a reddish orange or coppertinge upon the crown and neck; but it wants the yellow spot between thesplit of the mandibles and the eye. It is easily distinguished from thehooper, both by its louder note and larger body. Its habits, however, are very similar, except that it seems to be more gregarious, --smallflocks of six or eight often appearing together, while the hooper isseen only in pairs, and sometimes solitary. Another distinction is, that the trumpeter arrives much earlier in its migrations to the North, being the earliest bird that appears except the eagles. It breeds asfar South as latitude 61 degrees, but most generally within the Arcticcircle. Its nest is constructed similarly to those of the hooper, butits eggs are much larger, one of them being a meal for a moderate eater, without bread or any other addition. The trumpeter frequently arrivesin the North before the lakes or rivers are thawed. It is then obligedto find sustenance at the rapids and waterfalls, where the Indians canapproach under cover, and many are shot at such times by these people. At all other times, as you, Francois, have observed, it is a bird mostdifficult of approach; and the Indian hunters only attempt it when theyhave a long-range gun loaded with ball. 

"The third species of American swans is that known as Bewick's swan(Cygnus _Bewickii_), called after the naturalist of that name. It isthe smallest of the three, rarely measuring over fifty-two inches inlength, and weighing only fourteen pounds, while the hooper is overtwenty pounds in weight, and the trumpeter is often obtained of theenormous weight of thirty!

"Bewick's swan is also said to be identical with one of Brehm's singingswans. Its colour is almost similar to that of the hooper, and the twoare often mistaken for each other. The size and the tail-feathers ofall three of the American swans form a sufficiently specificdistinction. In the trumpeter these are twenty-four in number, in thehooper twenty, while the small species has only eighteen. 

"Of the three, the last-mentioned is the latest on its annual journey, but it breeds farther North than either of the others. Its nest isfound upon the islands of the Arctic Sea; it is usually built ofpeat-moss, and is of gigantic dimensions, being six feet long by five inwidth, and nearly two feet high. In the top of this pile is the nestitself, forming a large round cavity nearly two feet in diameter. Theeggs are of a brownish white, with clouds of darker tint. 

"I have remarked, " continued Lucien, "a singularity in the geographicaldistribution of these three species. Upon the Pacific coast thesmallest kind and the hooper only are met with, and the small onesoutnumber the others in the ratio of five to one. In the interior partsof the continent only the hoopers and trumpeters appear; and thetrumpeters are by far the most numerous, while upon the eastern coastsof America the hoopers are the sort best known. 

"The swans are eagerly hunted both by the Indians and white hunters. Their skins, with the quills and down, form a source of profit to thenatives of the fur countries, who dispose of them to the Hudson's BayCompany. In some years as many as ten thousand skins have beenexported, and sold at the rate of six or seven shillings each. Most ofthe skins thus sold were those of the trumpeter swans, which are themost numerous. 

"Now, " said Lucien, in conclusion, "you know as much about the swans asI do; so I shall drop the subject, and recommend to all of you a pieceof roast swan, which is now just done to a turn, and which I doubt notwill be found less dry than my lecture. "

CHAPTER FIVE. 

A SWAN-HUNT BY TORCHLIGHT. 

A few days brought our travellers to the settlement of Red River, wherethey made but a very short stay; and, having procured a few articleswhich they stood in need of, they resumed their journey, and floated ontowards Lake Winnipeg. The swans were seen in greater numbers thanever. They were not less shy however, and Francois, as before, in vaintried to get a shot at one. He was very desirous of bringing down oneof these noble birds, partly because the taste he had had of their fleshhad given him a liking for it; and partly because their shyness hadgreatly tantalised him. One is always more eager to kill shy game, bothon account of the rarity of the thing, and the credit one gets for hisexpertness. But the voyageurs had now got within less than twenty milesof Lake Winnipeg, and Francois had not as yet shot a single swan. Itwas not at all likely the eagles would help him to another. So therewould be no more roast swan for supper. 

Norman, seeing how eager Francois was to shoot one of these birds, resolved to aid him by his advice. 

"Cousin Frank, " said he, one evening as they floated along, "you wishvery much to get a shot at the swans?"

"I do, " replied Francois, --"I do; and if you can tell me how toaccomplish that business, I'll make you a present of this knife. " HereFrancois held up a very handsome clasp-knife that he carried in hispouch. 

A knife in the fur countries is no insignificant affair. With a knifeyou may sometimes buy a horse, or a tent, or a whole carcass of beef, or, what is stranger still, a wife! To the hunter in these wildregions--perhaps a thousand miles from where knives are sold--such athing is of very great value indeed; but the knife which Francoisoffered to his cousin was a particularly fine one, and the latter hadonce expressed a wish to become the owner of it. He was not slow, therefore, in accepting the conditions. 

"Well, " rejoined he, "you must consent to travel a few miles by night, and I think I can promise you a shot at the trumpeters--perhapsseveral. "

"What say you, brothers?" asked Francois, appealing to Basil and Lucien;"shall we have the sport? Say yes. "

"Oh! I have no objection, " said Lucien. 

"Nor I, " added Basil. "On the contrary, I should like it above allthings. I wish very much to know what plan our cousin shall adopt. Inever heard of any mode of approaching these birds. "

"Very well, then, " answered Norman, "I shall have the pleasure ofinstructing you in a way that is in use in these parts among theIndians, who hunt the swan for its skin and quills, which they trade tous at the post. We can manage it to-night, I think, " continued he, looking up at the sky: "there is no moon, and the sky is thick. Yes, itwill be dark enough. "

"Is it necessary the night should be a dark one?" asked Francois. 

"The darker the better, " replied Norman. "To-night, if I am notmistaken, will be as black as pitch. But we need to make somepreparations. It is near sundown, and we shall have just time to getready for the business. Let us get ashore, then, as quickly aspossible. "

"Oh! certainly--let us land, " replied all three at once. 

The canoe was now turned to the shore; and when it had arrived within afew feet of the land it was brought to a stop. Its keel was not allowedto touch the bottom of the river, as that would have injured the littlecraft. The greatest precaution is always observed both in landing andembarking these vessels. The voyageurs first get out and wade to theshore, one or two remaining to hold the canoe in its place. The cargo, whatever it be, is then taken out and landed; and after that the canoeitself is lifted out of the water, and carried ashore, where it is set, bottom upward, to dry. The birch-bark canoe is so frail a structure, that, were it brought rudely in contact either with the bottom or thebank, it would be very much damaged, or might go to pieces altogether. Hence the care with which it is handled. It is dangerous, also, tostand upright in it, as it is so "crank" that it would easily turn over, and spill both canoemen and cargo into the water. The voyageurs, therefore, when once they have got in, remain seated during the wholepassage, shifting about as little as they can help. When landed for thenight, the canoe is always taken out of the water as described. Thebark is of a somewhat spongy nature; and if left in the water for alength of time, would become soaked and heavy, and would not run sowell. When kept all night, bottom upward, it drips and becomes dryerand lighter. In the morning, at the commencement of the day's journey, it sits higher upon the water than in the afternoon and evening, and isat that time more easily paddled along. 

Our voyageurs, having got on shore, first kindled a fire to cook theirsupper. This they intended to despatch earlier than usual, so as togive them the early part of the night for their swan-hunt, which theyexpected to finish before midnight. Lucien did the cooking, whileNorman, assisted by Basil and Francois, made his preparations for thehunt. Francois, who was more interested in the result than any of them, watched every movement of his cousin. Nothing escaped him. 

Norman proceeded as follows:--

He walked off into the woods, accompanied by Francois. After goingabout an hundred yards or so, he stopped at the foot of a certain tree. The tree was a birch--easily distinguished by its smooth, silvery bark. By means of his sharp hunting-knife he "girdled" this tree near theground, and then higher up, so that the length between the two"girdlings, " or circular cuttings, was about four feet. He then made alongitudinal incision by drawing the point of his knife from one circleto the other. This done he inserted the blade under the bark, andpeeled it off, as he would have taken the skin from a buffalo. The treewas a foot in diameter, consequently the bark, when stripped off andspread flat, was about three feet in width; for you must remember thatthe circumference of a circle or a cylinder is always about three timesthe length of its diameter, and therefore a tree is three times as much"_round_" as it is "_through_. "

They now returned to the camp-fire, taking along with them the piece ofbark that had been cut off. This was spread out, though not quite flat, still leaving it somewhat curved. The convex side, that which had laintowards the tree, was now blackened with pulverised charcoal, whichNorman had directed Basil to prepare for the purpose; and to the bark atone end was fastened a stake or shaft. Nothing more remained but to fixthis stake in the canoe, in an upright position near the bow, and insuch a way that the bottom of the piece of bark would be upon a levelwith the seats, with its hollow side looking forward. It would thusform a screen, and prevent those in the canoe from being seen by anycreature that might be ahead. 

When all this had been arranged, Norman shouldered the axe, and againwalked off into the woods. This time his object was to obtain aquantity of "knots" of the pitch-pine (_Pinus rigida_), which he knewwould most likely be found in such a situation. The tree was soondiscovered, and pointed out to Francois, who accompanied him as before. Francois saw that it was a tree of about fifty feet in height, and afoot in diameter at its base. Its bark was thick, very dark in thecolour, and full of cracks or fissures. Its leaves, or "needles, " wereabout three inches long, and grew in threes, each three forming a littlebunch, bound together at its base by a brownish sheath. These bunches, in botanical language, are termed "fasciles. " The cones were somewhatshorter than the leaves, nearly of the shape of eggs, and clusteredtogether in threes and fours. Francois noticed that the tree wasthickly branched, and therefore there are many knots in the wood. Forthis reason it is not of much use as timber; but on account of the resinwhich it contains, it is the best species for firewood; and for thatpurpose it is used in all parts of the United States, where it grows. Most of the _pine-wood_ sold for fuel in the large cities of America isthe wood of this species. 

Francois supposed that his companion was about to fell one of the trees. He was mistaken, however; Norman had no such intention; he had onlystopped before one to examine it, and make sure that it was the specieshe was in search of. He was soon satisfied of this, and moved on, directing his eyes along the ground. Again he stopped; but this time itwas by a tree that had already fallen--blown down, perhaps, by the wind. It was half decayed; but Francois could see that it was one of the samespecies--the pitch-pine. 

This was the very thing Norman wanted, and plying his axe, he soonknocked out a large quantity of the resinous knots. These he at lengthcollected, and putting them into a bag, returned with Francois to thefire. He then announced that he had no further preparations to make. 

All four now sat down to supper, which consisted of dry meat, withbiscuits and coffee; and, as their appetites were sharpened by theirwater journey, they made a hearty meal of it. 

As soon as they had finished eating, the canoe was launched and gotready. The screen of birch-bark was set up, by lashing its shaft to thebottom timbers, and also to one of the seats. Immediately in front ofthis, and out upon the bow, was placed the frying-pan; and this havingbeen secured by being tied at the handle, was filled with drypine-knots, ready to be kindled at a moment's notice. Thesearrangements being made, the hunters only awaited the darkness to setforth. 

In the progress of their hunt they would be carried still fartherdown-stream; but as that was the direction in which they weretravelling, they would only be progressing on their journey, and thus"killing two birds with one stone. " This was altogether a very pleasantconsideration; and, having stowed everything snugly in the canoe, theysat chatting agreeably and waiting for the arrival of night. 

Night came at length, and, as Norman had predicted, it was as "dark aspitch. " Stepping gently into the canoe, and seating themselves in theirrespective places, they pushed out and commenced floating down-stream. Norman sat near the bow, in order to attend to his torch of pine-knots. Francois was next to him, holding his double-barrel, loaded withbuck-shot, which is the same size as that used for swans, and in Englandis even known as "swan-shot. "

Next came Basil with his rifle. He sat near Francois, just by themiddle of the little vessel. Lucien, who was altogether a man of peaceprinciples, and but little of a shot compared with either of hisbrothers, handled the oar--not to propel the canoe, but merely to guideit. In this way the party floated on in silence. 

Norman soon kindled his torch, which now cast its red glare over thesurface of the river, extending its fiery radii even to the banks onboth sides of the stream. The trees that overhung the water seemedtinged with vermilion, and the rippling wave sparkled like liquid gold. The light only extended over a semicircle. From the manner in which thetorch was placed, its light did not fall upon the other half of thecircle, and this, by contrast, appeared even darker than it wouldotherwise have done. 

The advantage of the plan which Norman had adopted was at once apparentto all. Ahead of the canoe the whole river was plainly seen for adistance of several hundred yards. No object larger than a cork couldhave floated on its surface, without being visible to those in thevessel--much less the great white body of a trumpeter swan. Astern ofthe canoe, on the other hand, all was pitchy darkness, and any onelooking at the vessel from a position ahead could have seen nothing butthe bright torch and the black uniform surface behind it. As I havealready stated, the concave side of the bark was towards the blaze, andthe pan containing the torch being placed close in to the screen, noneof the light could possibly fall upon the forms of those within thecanoe. They were therefore invisible to any creature from the front, while they themselves could see everything before them. 

Two questions yet remained unanswered. First, --would our hunters findany swans on the river? Second, --if they should, would these birdsallow themselves to be approached near enough to be shot at? The firstquestion Norman, of course, could not answer. That was a matter beyondhis knowledge or control. The swans might or might not appear, but itwas to be hoped they would. It was likely enough. Many had been seenon the preceding day, and why not then? To the second question, theyoung Canadian gave a definite reply. He assured his cousins that, ifmet with, the birds would be easily approached in this manner; he hadoften hunted them so. They would either keep their place, and remainuntil the light came very near them, or they would move towards it (ashe had many times known them to do), attracted by curiosity and thenovelty of the spectacle. He had hunted deer in the same manner; he hadshot, he said, hundreds of these animals upon the banks of rivers, wherethey had come down to the water to drink, and stood gazing at the light. 

His cousins could well credit his statements. They themselves hadhunted deer by torchlight in the woods of Louisiana, where it is termed"fire-hunting. " They had killed several in this way. The creatures, asif held by some fascination, would stand with head erect looking at thetorch carried by one of the party, while the other took sight betweentheir glancing eyes and fired the deadly bullet. Remembering this, theycould easily believe that the swans might act in a similar manner. 

It was not long until they were convinced of it by actual experience. As the canoe rounded a bend in the river, three large white objectsappeared in the "reach" before them. A single glance satisfied all thatthey were swans, though, in the deceptive glare of the torch, theyappeared even larger than swans. Their long upright necks, however, convinced the party they could be nothing else, and the canoe was headeddirectly for them. 

As our hunters approached, one of the birds was heard to utter hisstrange trumpet-note, and this he repeated at intervals as they drewnearer. 

"I have heard that they sing before death, " muttered Francois to Basil, who sat nearest him. "If so, I hope that's the song itself;" andFrancois laughed quietly at the joke he had perpetrated. 

Basil also laughed; and Lucien, who had overheard the remark, could notrestrain himself from joining in the laughter. 

"I fear not, " rejoined Basil; "there is hardly enough music in the noteto call it a song. They may live to `blow their own trumpet' a longwhile yet. "

This remark called forth a fresh chorus of laughter, in which all tookpart; but it was a very silent kind of laughter, that could not havebeen heard ten yards off: it might have been termed "laughing in awhisper. "

It soon ended, however, as matters now became serious: they were alreadywithin less than two hundred yards of the game, and the greatest cautionhad to be observed. The gunners had arranged the order of fire: Basilwas to shoot first, taking steady aim with his rifle at any one of thebirds; while Francois should fire as soon as he heard the report of hisbrother's gun, taking the remaining swans upon the wing, with one orboth barrels, as he best might. 

At length Basil deemed himself near enough, and, levelling his piece, fired. The bird threw out its wings, and flattened down upon the water, almost without a struggle. The other two were rising into the air, when"crack! crack!" went the two barrels of Francois' piece, and one of theswans fell back with a broken wing, and fluttered over the surface ofthe stream. Basil's had been shot dead, and was taken up easily; butthe wounded bird was only captured after a long chase with the canoe;and when overtaken, it struck so fiercely with its remaining wing, thatone of the blows inflicted a painful wound on the wrist of Francois. Both, however, were at length got safely aboard, and proved to be a maleand female of the largest dimensions. 

CHAPTER SIX. 

"CAST AWAY. "

Of course, the reports of the guns must have frightened any other swansthat were near. It was not likely they would find any more before goingsome distance farther down the river; so, having stowed away in a safeplace the two already killed, the hunters paddled rapidly onward. 

They had hardly gone half a mile farther, when another flock of swanswas discovered. These were approached in a similar way, and no lessthan three were obtained--Francois making a remarkable shot, and killingwith both barrels. A little farther down, one of the "hoopers" waskilled; and still farther on, another trumpeter; making in all no lessthan seven swans that lay dead in the bottom of the canoe!

These seven great birds almost filled the little craft to the gunwales, and you would think that our "torch-hunters" ought to have been contentwith such a spoil; but the hunter is hard to satisfy with game, and buttoo often inclined to "spill much more blood" than is necessary to hiswants. Our voyageurs, instead of desisting, again set the canoe inmotion, and continued the hunt. 

A short distance below the place where they had shot the last swan, asthey were rounding a bend in the river, a loud rushing sounded in theirears; similar to that produced by a cascade or waterfall. On firsthearing it, they were startled and somewhat alarmed. It might be a"fall, " thought they. Norman could not tell: he had never travelledthis route; he did not know whether there were falls in the Red River ornot, but he believed not. In his voyage to the South, he had travelledby another route; that was, up the Winnipeg River, and through RainyLake and the Lake of the Woods to Lake Superior. This is the usual andwell-known track followed by the _employes_ of the Hudson's Bay Company;and Norman had travelled it. 

In this uncertainty the canoe was brought to a stop, and our voyageursremained listening. The noise made by the water was not very distant, and sounded like the roaring of "rapids, " or the rush of a "fall. " Itwas evidently one or the other; but, after listening to it for aconsiderable time, all came to the conclusion that the sound did notproceed from the Red River itself, but from some stream that emptiedinto it upon the right. With this belief they again put the canoe inmotion, and glided slowly and cautiously onward. 

Their conjecture proved to be correct. As they approached nearer, theyperceived that the noise appeared every moment more and more to theirright; and presently they saw, below them, a rapid current sweeping intothe Red River from the right bank. This was easily distinguished by thewhite froth and bubbles that were carried along upon its surface, andwhich had evidently been produced by some fall over which the water hadlately passed. The hunters now rowed fearlessly forward, and in a fewmoments came opposite the _debouchure_ of the tributary stream, when aconsiderable cascade appeared to their view, not thirty yards from theRed River itself. The water foamed and dashed over a series of steps, and then swept rapidly on, in a frothy current. They had entered thiscurrent, and were now carried along with increased velocity, so that theoarsmen suspended operations, and drew their paddles within the canoe. 

A flock of swans now drew their attention. It was the largest flockthey had yet seen, numbering nearly a score of these noble birds, --asight, as Norman informed them, that was exceedingly rare even in themost favoured haunts of the swan. Rarely are more than six or sevenseen together, and oftener only two or three. A grand _coup_ wasdetermined upon. Norman took up his own gun, and even Lucien, whomanaged the stern oar, and guided the craft, also brought his piece--avery small rifle--close to his hand, so that he might have a shot aswell as the others. 

The canoe was directed in such a manner that, by merely keeping its headdown the stream, it would float to the spot where the swans were. 

In a short while they approached very near the great birds, and ourhunters could see them sitting on the water, with upraised necks, gazingin wonder at the torch. Whether they sounded their strange note was notknown, for the "sough" of the waterfall still echoed in the ears of thecanoemen, and they could not hear aught else. 

Basil and Norman fired first, and simultaneously; but the louderdetonations of Francois' double-barrel, and even the tiny crack ofLucien's rifle, were heard almost the instant after. Three of the birdswere killed by the volley, while a fourth, evidently "winged, " was seento dive, and flutter down-stream. The others mounted into the air, anddisappeared in the darkness. 

During the time occupied in this manoeuvre, the canoe, no longer guidedby Lucien's oar, had been caught by some eddy in the current, and sweptround stern-foremost. In this position the light no longer shone uponthe river ahead, but was thrown up-stream. All in a downward directionwas buried in deep darkness. Before the voyageurs could bring the canoeback to its proper direction, a new sound fell upon their ears thatcaused some of them to utter a cry of terror. It was the noise ofrushing water, but not that which they had already heard and passed. Itwas before them in the river itself. Perhaps it was a cataract, and_they were sweeping rapidly to its brink_!

The voice of Norman was heard exclaiming, "Hold with your oars!--therapids!--the rapids!" At the same time he himself was seen rising upand stretching forward for an oar. All was now consternation; and themovements of the party naturally consequent upon such a sudden panicshook the little craft until her gunwales lipped the water. At the sametime she had swung round, until the light again showed the stream ahead, and a horrid sight it was. Far as the eye could see was a reach offoaming rapids. Dark points of rocks, and huge black boulders, thicklyscattered in the channel, jutted above the surface; and around andagainst these, the water frothed and hissed furiously. There was nocataract, it is true--there is none such in Red River--but for allpurposes of destruction the rapids before them were equally dangerousand terrible to the eyes of our voyageurs. They no longer thought ofthe swans. The dead were permitted to float down unheeded, the woundedto make its escape. Their only thought was to stop the canoe before itshould be carried upon the rapids. 

With this intent all had taken to the oars, but in spite of everyexertion they soon found that the light craft had got within theinfluence of the strong current, and was sucked downward more rapidlythan ever. Their backward strokes were to no purpose. 

In a few seconds the canoe had passed over the first stage of therapids, and shot down with the velocity of an arrow. A huge boulder laydirectly in the middle of the channel, and against this the currentbroke with fury, laving its sides in foaming masses. The canoe washurried to this point; and as the light was again turned up-stream, noneof the voyageurs could see this dangerous rock. But they could not haveshunned it then. The boat had escaped from their control, and spunround at will. The rock once more came under the light, but just as thecanoe, with a heavy crash, was driven against it. 

For some moments the vessel, pressed by the current against the rock, remained motionless, but her sides were stove in, and the water wasrushing through. The quick eye of Basil--cool in all crises of extremedanger--perceived this at a glance. He saw that the canoe was a wreck, and nothing remained but to save themselves as they best might. Dropping the oar, and seizing his rifle, he called to his companions toleap to the rock: and all together immediately sprang over the gunwale. The dog Marengo followed after. 

The canoe, thus lightened, heeled round into the current, and swept on. The next moment she struck another rock, and was carried over on herbeams. The water then rushed in--the white bodies of the swans, withthe robes, blankets, and implements, rose on the wave; the blazing knotswere spilled from the pan, and fell with a hissing sound: and a fewseconds after they were extinguished, and all was darkness!

The Young Voyageurs--by Captain Mayne Reid

CHAPTER SEVEN. 

A BRIDGE OF BUCKSKIN. 

The canoe was lost, and all it had contained, or nearly all. Thevoyageurs had saved only their guns, knives, and the powder-horns andpouches, that had been attached to their persons. One other thing hadbeen saved--an axe which Basil had flung upon the rock as he stepped outof the sinking vessel. All the rest--robes, blankets, swans, cookingutensils, bags of provisions, such as coffee, flour, and dried meat--were lost--irrecoverably lost. These had either drifted off upon thesurface, or been carried under water and hidden among the loose stonesat the bottom. No matter where, they were lost; and our voyageurs nowstood on a small naked rock in the middle of the stream, with nothingleft but the clothes upon their backs, and the arms in their hands. Such was their condition. 

There was something so sudden and awful in the mishap that had befallenthem, that for some minutes they stood upon the spot where they hadsettled without moving or addressing a word to one another. They gazedafter the canoe. They knew that it was wrecked, although they could seenothing either of it or its contents. Thick darkness enveloped them, rendered more intense from the sudden extinction of the torchlight. They saw nothing but the foam flickering along the river; like theghosts of the swans they had killed, and they heard only the roaring ofthe water, that sounded in their ears with a hoarse and melancholy wail. 

For a long time they stood impressed with the lamentable condition intowhich the accident had plunged them; and a lamentable condition it was, sure enough. They were on a small rock in the midst of a rapid river. They were in the midst of a great wilderness too, many long miles from asettlement. The nearest could only be reached by travelling throughpathless forests, and over numerous and deep rivers. Impassable swamps, and lakes with marshy shores, lay on the route, and barred the directcourse, and all this journey would have to be made on foot. 

But none of our young voyageurs were of that stamp to yield themselvesto despair. One and all of them had experienced perils before--greatereven than that in which they now stood. As soon, therefore, as theybecame fully satisfied that their little vessel was wrecked, and all itscontents scattered, instead of despairing, their first thoughts were howto make the best of their situation. 

For that night, at least, they were helpless. They could not leave therock. It was surrounded by rapids. Sharp, jagged points peeped out ofthe water, and between these the current rushed with impetuosity. Inthe darkness no human being could have crossed to either shore insafety. To attempt it would have been madness, and our voyageurs sooncame to this conclusion. They had no other choice than to remain wherethey were until the morning; so, seating themselves upon the rock, theyprepared to pass the night. 

They sat huddled close together. They could not lie down--there was notroom enough for that. They kept awake most of the night, one or otherof them, overcome by fatigue, occasionally nodding over in a sort ofhalf-sleep, but awakening again after a few minutes' uncomfortabledreaming. They talked but little, as the noise of the rushing rapidsrendered conversation painful. To be heard, they were under thenecessity of shouting to one another, like passengers in an omnibus. Itwas cold, too. None of them had been much wetted in escaping from thecanoe; but they had saved neither overcoat, blanket, nor buffalo-robe;and, although it was now late in the spring, the nights near LakeWinnipeg, even at that season, are chilly. They were above the latitudeof 50 degrees; and although in England, which is on that parallel, it isnot very cold of a spring night, it must be remembered that the line ofequal temperature--in the language of meteorologists the "_isothermalline_, "--is of a much lower latitude in America than in Europe. 

Another fact worth remembering is, that upon the eastern or Atlanticcoast of the American Continent it is much colder in the same latitudethan on the western or Pacific side. The Pacific "sea-board" in itsclimate is more like the western edge of the old continent. This wouldseem to indicate that the climate of a coast country is much influencedby the side upon which the ocean lies, whether east or west. This inreality is the case, for you may observe on your map that the westerncoasts of both the "old world" and the "new" are somewhat similarlyplaced in regard to their oceans, and hence the similarity of theirclimates. 

There are many other causes connected with this; such as the directionof winds, and the different effects produced by them on the atmospherewhen they have passed over water or over land. It was, and is still bymany people believed, that the winds are produced by the air becomingheated in a particular place, and then ascending, and leaving a "vacuum"into which the colder air rushes from all sides around. This "rushing, "it was supposed, made the wind. To some extent this theory is true, butthere are several other causes that operate in producing wind. Electricity--an agent hitherto but little known, but one of the mostimportant elements of our Earth--has much to do with the winds; and therevolution of the Earth on its own axis has also an influence upon them. Indeed it is to be wondered at, that mankind should have so longremained satisfied with the very unsatisfactory theory of the _heatedair_. But it is not to be wondered at either, when we consider howlittle mankind has had to do with these things--when we consider that asyet nearly every country upon the face of the globe is despotic; thatthe whole time of the great body of the people is occupied in a strugglefor life--occupied in toiling for a few, who by the most cunning devicesrob them of the fruits of their toils--rob them so skilfully that thepoor blinded masses have grown to consider eternal toil as the _naturalstate of man_--nay more, are ready to persecute him who would elevatethem, and worship him who would sink them deeper in baseness andbondage;--when we reflect on this almost hopeless darkness of soul thathas marked the history of the past, and is too much the character of thepresent, we need not wonder that so few have had either leisure orinclination to yield themselves to the acquirement or prosecution ofscientific knowledge. "The winds have blown where they listed, and wehave heard the sound thereof, " but men absorbed in the hard struggle oflife have found but little time to inquire "whence they come or whitherthey go. "

The people of the United States are yet but partially free. They stillinherit, from customs and prejudices, the fruits of an ancestraloppression, and a bondage of centuries of duration. But even their_partial_ freedom has already shown its good effects. At this momentknowledge is progressing faster among these people than any other on theface of the earth. Meteorology begins to assume the palpable shape ofan exact science. The winds are being traced in their currents, andfollowed through all their windings, by Maury and other men of talent;and if you live twenty years longer (and I hope you may live three timesas many years), you will no doubt be able to tell "whence the windcometh and whither it goeth. "

Well, we began this politico-scientific discussion by observing that itwas very cold in the latitude of Lake Winnipeg, even in late spring. Only at night though; the days are sometimes so hot there that you mightfancy yourself in the tropics. These extremes are characteristic of theclimate of all American countries, and particularly those that lie at adistance from the sea-coast. 

Our voyageurs were chilled to the very bones, and of course glad to seethe daylight glimmering through the tops of the trees that grew upon thebanks of the river. As soon as day broke, they began to consider howthey would reach those trees. Although swimming a river of that widthwould have been to any of the four a mere bagatelle, they saw that itwas not to be so easy an affair. Had they been upon either bank, theycould have crossed to the other without difficulty--as they would havechosen a place where the water was comparatively still. On the rockthey had no choice, as the rapids extended on both sides above and belowit. Between the boulders the current rushed so impetuously, that hadthey attempted to swim to either bank, they would have been carrieddownward, and perhaps dashed with violence against one or other of thesharp stones. 

As soon as it was light, they saw all this; not without feelings ofapprehension and uneasiness. Their whole attention was now occupiedwith the one object--how they should get to the bank of the river. 

The right bank was the more distant; but the passage in that directionappeared the easier one. The current was not so swift, nor yet did itseem so deep. They thought they might ford it, and Basil made theattempt; but he soon got beyond his depth; and was obliged, after beingcarried off his feet, to swim up under the lee of the rock again. 

From the rock to the right bank was about an hundred yards' distance. Here and there, at irregular intervals, sharp, jagged stones rose abovethe surface, some of them projecting three feet or more out of thewater, and looking _very_ much like upright tombstones. Lucien hadnoticed these, and expressed the opinion that if they only had a rope, they might fling it over one of these stones, and then, holding it fastat the other end, might pass by that means from one to the other. 

The suggestion was a good one, but where was the rope to come from? Alltheir ropes and cords--lassoes and all--had been swept away in thewreck. Not a string remained, except those that fastened their horns, flasks, and other accoutrements; and these were only small thongs, andwould be of no use for such a purpose. It would require a rope strongenough to carry the weight of a man impelled by a rapid current--infact, a weight equal to that of several men. They all set to thinkinghow this was to be obtained. Each looked at the other, and scanned thestraps and thongs that were around their bodies. They were satisfied ata glance that these would not be sufficient to make such a rope as waswanted. They did not give up the hope of being able to obtain one. They were all of them accustomed to resort to strange expedients, and asufficiently strange one now suggested itself. Basil and Norman seemedto have thought of it at the same time, for both at once unbuckled theirstraps, and commenced pulling off their buckskin hunting-shirts. Theothers said nothing, as they knew well what they were going to do withthem--they knew they intended cutting them into strips, and thentwisting a rope out of them. 

All four set to work together. Lucien and Francois held the shirtstaut, while Basil and Norman handled the knives, and in a few minutesthe rock was covered with strips of buckskin about two inches wide, by ayard or so in length. These were next joined and plaited together insuch a manner that a rope was formed nearly forty feet long. An eye wasmade at one end, and through this the other end was reeved--so that arunning noose was obtained, in the same manner as the Mexicans andIndians make their lassoes. The rope was now ready for use, and Basilwas the very hand to use it; for Basil knew how to fling a lasso as wellas either Mexican or Indian. He had practised it often, and had lassoedmany a long-horned bull upon the prairies of Opelousas and theAttakapas. To Basil, therefore, the rope was given. He placed himselfon the highest part of the rock, having first coiled the new-made lasso, and hung the coil lightly over his left arm. He then took the noose-endin his right hand, and commenced winding it around his head. Hiscompanions had laid themselves flat, so as not to be in the way of thenoose as it circled about. After a few turns the rope was launchedforth, and a loud "hurrah!" from Francois announced that the throw wassuccessful. It was so in fact, as the noose was seen settling smoothlyover the jutting-stone, taking full hold upon it. A pull from Basilfixed it; and in a few minutes it was made quite fast, without theslightest danger of its slipping off. The other end was then carriedround a projecting point of the rock on which they stood, and knottedfirmly, so that the rope was quite taut, and stretched in a nearlyhorizontal direction, about a foot above the surface of the water. 

The voyageurs now prepared to cross over. Their guns, pouches, andflasks were carefully secured, so that the water could not damage them. Then each took a piece of the buckskin thong, and fastened it round hiswaist, leaving enough to form a running loop. This loop was intended toembrace the rope, and run along it, as they drew themselves forward bytheir hands. 

Basil passed over first. He was the oldest, and, as he asserted, it wasbut right he should run the risk in testing the new-fashioned bridge, ofwhich he was the architect. It worked admirably, and sustained theweight of his body, with the whole force of the current acting upon it. Of course he was swept far down, and the rope was stretched to its fulltension, but he succeeded in handing himself along, until he was able totouch the second rock, and clamber upon it in safety. During thepassage across he was watched by his companions with emotions of noordinary character, but as soon as he had reached the opposite end ofthe rope all three uttered a loud and simultaneous cheer. Lucien passedover next, and after him Francois. Notwithstanding his danger, Francoislaughed loudly all the time he was in the water, while his brothers werenot without some fears for his safety. Marengo was next attached to therope, and pulled safely over. 

Norman was the last to cross upon the buckskin bridge, but, like theothers, he landed in safety; and the four, with the dog, now stood uponthe little isolated boulder, where there was just room enough to givethem all a footing. 

A difficulty now presented itself, which they had not hitherto thoughtof. Another reach of rapid current was to be crossed, before they couldsafely trust themselves to enter the water. This they knew before, butthey had also noticed that there was another jutting rock, upon whichthey might fling their rope. But the rope itself was now thedifficulty. It was fast at both ends, and how were they to release itfrom the rock they had left? One of them could easily cross over againand untie it, but how was he to get back to the others? Here was adilemma which had not presented itself before, and they now sawthemselves no better off than ever. The rapid that remained to becrossed, was as dangerous as the one they had succeeded in passing. There was no hope that they could swim it in safety. They wouldcertainly be swept with violence against the rocks below. There was nochance, then, of their going an inch farther--unless by some meanssimilar to that they had just used, and the rope was no longer at theirservice. 

For some time they all stood silent, each considering the matter in hisown way. How could they free the rope?

"It cannot be done, " said one. "Impossible, " rejoined another. "Wemust make a second rope. Francois's shirt still remains, and ourleggings--we can use them. "

This was the mode suggested by Francois and Norman, and Lucien seemed toassent to it. They had already commenced untying their leggings, whenBasil uttered the ejaculation--

"Stop!"

"Well, what is it, brother?" asked Lucien. 

"I think I can free the rope at the other end. At all events, let metry. It will not cost much, either in time or trouble. "

"How do you mean to do it, brother?"

"Sit close, all of you. Give me room--you shall see presently. "

As directed by Basil, they all cowered closely down, so as to occupy aslittle space as possible. Basil, having uncovered the lock of hisrifle--which had been carefully bound up in a piece of deer's bladder--placed himself in a firm position, and appeared as if about to fire. Such was his intention--for in a few moments he was seen to raise thegun to his shoulder, and take aim. None of his companions uttered aword. They had already guessed the object of this movement, and satsilently awaiting the result. 

On the rock which they had left, the rope still bound fast passed aroundone of the angles, in such a way that, from the point where Basil stood, it offered a fair mark. It was at this Basil was aiming. His objectwas to cut the thong with his bullet. He could not do it with a singleshot, as the thong was broader than the bullet, but he had calculatedthat he might effect his purpose with several. If he did not succeed incutting it clean through, the ball flattening upon the rock would, perhaps, tear the rope in such a manner that, by pulling by the otherend, they might detach it. Such were the calculations and hopes ofBasil. 

A moment more and the crack of his rifle was heard. At the same instantthe dust rose up from the point at which he had aimed, and several smallfragments flew off into the water. Again was heard Francois's "hurrah, "for Francois, as well as the others, had seen that the rope had been hitat the right place, and now exhibited a mangled appearance. 

While Basil was reloading, Norman took aim and fired. Norman was a goodshot, though perhaps not so good a one as Basil, for that was no easymatter, as there were few such marksmen to be found anywhere, not evenamong the professional trappers and hunters themselves. But Norman wasa fair shot, and this time hit his mark. The thong was evidently betterthan half divided by the two; bullets. Seeing this, Francois took holdof the other end, and gave it a strong jerk or two, but it was still toomuch for him, and he ceased pulling, and waited the effect of Basil'ssecond shot. 

The latter had now reloaded, and, taking deliberate aim again, fired. The rope was still held taut upon the rock, for part of it dragged inthe current, the force of which kept pressing it hard downward. Scarcely was the report heard, when the farther end of the thong flewfrom its fastening, and, swept by the running water, was seen fallinginto the lee of the boulder on which the party now stood. A third timewas heard the voice of Francois uttering one of his customary "hurrahs. "The rope was now dragged up, and made ready for further use. Basilagain took hold of it; and, after coiling it as before, succeeded inthrowing the noose over the third rock, where it settled and held fast. The other end was tied as before, and all passed safely to the newstation. Here, however, their labour ended. They found that from thispoint to the shore the river was shallow, and fordable; and, leaving therope where it was, all four took the water, and waded safely to thebank. 

CHAPTER EIGHT. 

DECOYING THE "GOATS. "

For the present, then, our voyageurs had escaped. They were safe uponthe river's bank; but when we consider the circumstances in which theywere placed, we shall perceive that they were far from being pleasantones. They were in the midst of a wilderness, without either horse orboat to carry them out of it. They had lost everything but their armsand their axe. The hunting-shirts of some of them, as we have seen, were destroyed, and they would now suffer from the severe cold that evenin summer, as we have said, often reigns in these latitudes. Not avessel was left them for cooking with, and not a morsel of meat oranything was left to be cooked. For their future subsistence they wouldhave to depend upon their guns, which, with their ammunition, they hadfortunately preserved. 

After reaching the shore, their first thoughts were about procuringsomething to eat. They had now been a long time without food, and allfour were hungry enough. As if by one impulse, all cast their eyesaround, and looked upward among the branches of the tree's, to see ifany animal could be discovered that might serve them for a meal. Birdor quadruped, it mattered not, so that it was large enough to give thefour a breakfast. But neither one nor the other was to be seen, although the woods around had a promising appearance. The trees werelarge, and as there was much underwood, consisting of berry-bushes andplants with edible roots, our voyageurs did not doubt that there wouldbe found game in abundance. It was agreed, then, that Lucien andFrancois should remain on the spot and kindle a fire, while Basil andNorman went off in search of something to be cooked upon it. 

In less than an hour the latter returned, carrying an animal upon hisshoulders, which both the boys recognised as an old acquaintance, --theprong-horned antelope (_Antilope furcifer_), so called from the singlefork or prong upon its horns. Norman called it "a goat, " and statedthat this was its name among the fur-traders, while the Canadianvoyageurs give it the title of "cabree. " Lucien, however, knew theanimal well. He knew it was not of the goat kind, but a true antelope, and the only animal of that genus found in North America. Its habitatis the prairie country, and at the present time it is not found farthereast than the prairies extend, nor farther north either, as it is not acreature that can bear extreme cold. In early times, however--that is, nearly two centuries ago--it must have ranged nearly to the Atlanticshores, as Father Hennepin in his Travels speaks of "goats" being killedin the neighbourhood of Niagara, meaning no other than the prong-hornedantelopes. The true wild goat of America is a very different animal, and is only found in the remote regions of the Rocky Mountains. 

What Norman had shot, then, was an antelope; and the reason why it iscalled "cabree" by the voyageurs, and "goat" by the fur-traders, ispartly from its colour resembling that of the common goat, but more fromthe fact, that along the upper part of its neck there is a standingmane, which does in truth give it somewhat the appearance of theEuropean goat. Another point of resemblance lies in the fact, that the"prong-horns" emit the same disagreeable odour, which is a well-knowncharacteristic of the goat species. This proceeds from two smallglandular openings that lie at the angles of the jaws, and appear spotsof a blackish brown colour. 

Both Lucien and Francois had shot antelopes. They had decoyed themwithin range in their former expedition on the prairies, and had seenwolves do the same. The Indians usually hunt them in this manner, byholding up some bright-coloured flag, or other curious object, whichrarely fails to bring them within shot; but Norman informed his cousinsthat the Indians of the Hudson's Bay Company care little about theantelope, and rarely think it worth hunting. Its skin is of littlevalue to them, and they consider its flesh but indifferent eating. Butthe chief reason why they take so little notice of it is, because it isfound in the same range with the buffalo, the moose, and the elk; and, as all these animals are more valuable to the Indian hunter, he allowsthe antelope to go unmolested, unless when he is hard pressed withhunger, and none of the others are to be had. 

While skinning the antelope for breakfast, Norman amused his companionsby relating how he had killed it. He said that he had got near enoughto shoot it by practising a "dodge. " After travelling through the woodsfor some half-mile or so, he had come out into a country of "openings, "and saw that there was a large prairie beyond. He saw that the woodsextended no farther than about a mile from the banks of the river, andthat the whole country beyond was without timber, except in scatteredclumps. This is, in fact, true of the Red River country, particularlyof its western part, from which the great prairies stretch westward, even to the "foot-hills" (_piedmont_) of the Rocky Mountains. Well, then, after arriving at the openings, Norman espied a small herd ofantelopes, about ten or a dozen in all. He would rather they had beensomething else, as elk or deer; for, like the Indians, he did not muchrelish the "goat's" meat. He was too hungry, however, to be nice, andso he set about trying to get within shot of the herd. There was nocover, and he knew he could not approach near enough without using somestratagem. He therefore laid himself flat upon his back, and raised hisheels as high as he could into the air. These he kicked about in such amanner, as soon to attract the attention of the antelopes, that, curiousto make out what it was, commenced running round and round in circles, of which Norman himself was the centre. The circles gradually becamesmaller and smaller, until the hunter saw that his game was withinrange; when, slyly rolling himself round on one shoulder, he took aim ata buck, and fired. The buck fell, and the rest of the herd bounded offlike the wind. Norman feeling hungry himself, and knowing that hiscompanions were suffering from the same cause, lost no time in lookingfor other game; but shouldering the "goat, " carried it into camp. 

By this time Lucien and Francois had a fire kindled--a roaring fire of"pine-knots"--and both were standing by it, smoking all over in theirwet leggings. They had got nearly dry when Norman returned, and theyproceeded to assist in butchering the antelope. The skin was whippedoff in a trice; and the venison, cut into steaks and ribs, was soonspitted and sputtering cheerily in the blaze of the pine-knots. Everything looked pleasant and promising, and it only wanted thepresence of Basil to make them all feel quite happy again. Basil, however, did not make his appearance; and as they were all as hungry aswolves, they could not wait for him, but set upon the antelope-venison, and made each of them a hearty meal from it. 

As yet they had no apprehensions about Basil. They supposed he had notmet with any game, and was still travelling about in search of it. Should he succeed in killing any, he would bring it in; and should henot, he would return in proper time without it. It was still early inthe day. 

But several hours passed over, and he did not come. It was an unusuallength of time for him to be absent, especially in strange woods ofwhich he knew nothing; moreover, he was in his shirt-sleeves, and therest of his clothing had been dripping wet when he set out. Under thesecircumstances would he remain so long, unless something unpleasant hadhappened to him?

This question the three began to ask one another. They began to growuneasy about their absent companion; and as the hours passed on withouthis appearing, their uneasiness increased to serious alarm. They atlength resolved to go in search of him. They took different directions, so that there would be a better chance of finding him. Norman struckout into the woods, while Lucien and Francois, followed by the dogMarengo, kept down the bank--thinking that if Basil had got lost, hewould make for the river to guide him, as night approached. All were toreturn to the camp at nightfall whether successful or not. 

After several hours spent in traversing the woods and openings, Normancame back. He had been unable to find any traces of their missingcompanion. The others had got back before him. They heard his storywith sorrowing hearts, for neither had they fallen in with the track ofliving creature. Basil was lost, beyond a doubt. He would never havestayed so long, had not some accident happened to him. Perhaps he wasdead--killed by some wild animal--a panther or a bear. Perhaps he hadmet with Indians, who had carried him off, or put him to death on thespot. Such were the painful conjectures of his companions. 

It was now night. All three sat mournfully over the fire, their looksand gestures betokening the deep dejection they felt. Although in needof repose, none of them attempted to go to sleep. At intervals theydiscussed the probability of his return, and then they would remainsilent. Nothing could be done that night. They could only await themorning light, when they would renew their search, and scour the countryin every direction. 

It was near midnight, and they were sitting silently around the fire, when Marengo started to his feet, and uttered three or four loud barks. The echoes of these had hardly died among the trees when a shrillwhistle was heard at some distance off in the woods. 

"Hurrah!" shouted Francois, leaping to his feet at the instant; "that'sBasil's whistle, I'll be bound. I'd know it a mile off. Hurrah!"

Francois' "hurrah!" rang through the woods, and the next moment cameback a loud "Hilloa!" which all recognised as the voice of Basil. 

"Hilloa!" shouted the three by the fire. 

"Hilloa, my boys! all right!" replied the voice; and a few secondsafter, the tall upright form of Basil himself was seen advancing, underthe glare of the pine-knots. A shout of congratulation was againraised; and all the party, preceded by Marengo, rushed out to meet thenew-comer. They soon returned, bringing Basil up to the fire, when itwas seen that he had not returned empty-handed. In one hand he carrieda bag of grouse, or "prairie hens, " while from the muzzle of hisshouldered rifle there hung something that was at once recognised as abrace of buffalo tongues. 

"_Voila_!" cried Basil, flinging down the bag, "how are you off forsupper? And here, " continued he, pointing to the tongues, "here's apair of tit-bits that'll make you lick your lips. Come! let us lose notime in the cooking, for I'm hungry enough to eat either of them raw. "

Basil's request was instantly complied with. The fire was raked up, spits were speedily procured, a tongue and one of the grouse wereroasted; and although Lucien, Francois, and Norman, had already suppedon the "goat's meat, " they set to upon the new viands with freshappetites. Basil was hungrier than any, for he had been all the whilefasting. It was not because he was without meat, but because he knewthat his comrades would be uneasy about him, and he would not stop tocook it. Of meat he had enough, since he had slain the two buffaloes towhich the tongues had belonged; and these same buffaloes, he nowinformed them, had been the cause of his long absence. 

Of course, all were eager to know how the buffaloes could have delayedhim; and therefore, while they were discussing their savoury supper, Basil narrated the details of his day's adventure. 

CHAPTER NINE. 

A "PARTRIDGE DANCE. "

"After leaving here, " said Basil, "I struck off through the woods in aline that led from the river, in a diagonal direction. I hadn't walkedmore than three hundred yards, when I heard a drumming sound, which I atfirst took to be thunder; but, after listening a while, I knew it wasnot that, but the drumming of the ruffed grouse. As soon as I couldascertain the direction of the sound, I hurried on in that way; but fora long time I appeared to get no nearer it, so greatly does this sounddeceive one. I should think I walked a full mile before I arrived atthe place where the birds were, for there were many of them. I then hada full view of them, as they went through their singular performances. 

"There were, in all, about a score. They had selected a piece of openand level ground, and over this they were running in a circle, abouttwenty feet in diameter. They did not all run in the same direction, but met and crossed each other, although they never deviated much fromthe circumference of the circle, around which the grass was worn quitebare, and a ring upon the turf looked baked and black. When I first gotnear, they heard my foot among the leaves, and I saw that one and all ofthem stopped running, and squatted close down. I halted, and hid myselfbehind a tree. After remaining quiet a minute or so, the birds began tostretch up their necks, and then all rose together to their feet, andcommenced running round the ring as before. I knew they were performingwhat is called the `Partridge Dance;' and as I had never witnessed it Iheld back awhile, and looked on. Even hungry as I was, and as I knewall of you to be, so odd were the movements of these creatures, that Icould not resist watching them a while, before I sent my unwelcomemessenger into their `ballroom. ' Now and then an old cock wouldseparate from the pack, and running out to some distance, would leapupon a rock that was there; then, after dropping his wings, flirtingwith his spread tail, erecting the ruff upon his neck, and throwing backhis head, he would swell and strut upon the rock, exhibiting himselflike a diminutive turkey-cock. After manoeuvring in this way for a fewmoments, he would commence flapping his wings in short quick strokes, which grew more rapid as he proceeded, until a `booming' sound wasproduced, more like the rumble of distant thunder than anything I canthink of. 

"This appeared to be a challenge to the others; and then a second wouldcome out, and, after replying to it by putting himself through a similarseries of attitudes, the two would attack each other, and fight with allthe fury of a pair of game-cocks. 

"I could have watched their manoeuvres much longer, " continued Basil, "but hunger got the better of me, and I made ready to fire. Those thatwere `dancing' moved so quickly round the ring that I could not sightone of them. If I had had a shot-gun, I might have covered several, butwith the rifle I could not hope for more than a single bird; so, wantingto make sure of that, I waited until an old cock mounted the rock, andgot to `drumming. ' Then I sighted him, and sent my bullet through hiscrop. I heard the loud whirr of the pack as they rose up from the ring;and, marking them, I saw that they all alighted only a couple of hundredyards off, upon a large spruce-tree. Hoping they would sit there untilI could get another shot, I loaded as quickly as possible, and steppedforward. The course I took brought me past the one I had killed, whichI picked up, and thrust hastily into my bag. Beyond this I had to passover some logs that lay along the ground, with level spaces betweenthem. What was my surprise in getting among these, to see two of thecocks down upon the grass, and righting so desperately that they took nonotice of my approach! At first I threw up my rifle, intending to fire, but seeing that the birds were within a few feet of me, I thought theymight let me lay hold of them, which they, in fact, did; for the nextmoment I had `grabbed' both of them, and cooled their bellicose spiritsby wringing their heads off. 

"I now proceeded to the pack, that still kept the tree. When nearenough, I sheltered myself behind another tree; and taking aim at one, Ibrought him tumbling to the ground. The others sat still. Of course, Ishot the one upon the lowest branch: I knew that, so long as I did this, the others would sit until I might get the whole of them; but that if Ishot one of the upper ones, its fluttering down through the brancheswould alarm the rest, and cause them to fly off. I loaded and fired, and loaded and fired, until half-a-dozen of the birds lay around theroot of the tree. I believe I could have killed the whole pack, but itjust then occurred to me that I was wasting our precious ammunition, andthat, considering the value of powder and shot to us just now, the birdswere hardly worth a load apiece; so I left off cracking at them. As Istepped forward to gather what I had killed, the rest whirred away intothe woods. 

"On reaching the tree where they had perched, I was very much surprisedto find a raw-hide rope neatly coiled up, and hanging from one of thelower branches. I knew that somebody must have placed it there, and Ilooked round to see what `sign' there was besides. My eye fell upon thecinders of an old fire near the foot of the tree; and I could tell thatsome Indians had made their camp by it. It must have been a good whileago, as the ashes were beaten into the ground by the rain, and, moreover, some young plants were springing up through them. Iconcluded, therefore, that whoever had camped there had hung the ropeupon the tree, and on leaving the place had forgotten it. I took therope down to examine it: it was no other than a lasso, full fifty feetlong, with an iron ring neatly whipped into the loop-end; and, on tryingit with a pull, I saw it was in the best condition. Of course, I wasnot likely to leave such a prize behind me. I had grown, as you may allconceive, to have a very great regard for a rope, considering that onehad just saved all our lives; so I resolved on bringing the lasso withme. In order to carry it the more conveniently, I coiled it, and thenhung the coil across my shoulders like a belt. I next packed my gameinto the bag, which they filled chock up to the mouth, and was turningto come back to camp, when my eye fell upon an object that caused mesuddenly to change my intention. 

"I was near the edge of the woods, and through the trunks I could see alarge open space beyond, where there were no trees, or only one here andthere. In the middle of this opening there was a cloud of dust, and inthe thick of it I could see two great dark animals in motion. They wererunning about, and now and then coming together with a sudden rush; andevery time they did so, I could hear a loud thump, like the stroke of asledgehammer. The sun was shining upon the yellow dust-cloud, and theanimals appeared from this circumstance to be of immense size--muchlarger than they really were. Had I not known what kind of creatureswere before me, I should have believed that the mammoths were still inexistence. But I knew well what they were: I had seen many before, carrying on just such a game. I knew they were buffalo bulls, engagedin one of their terrible battles. "

Here Basil's narrative was interrupted by a singular incident. Indeed, it had been interrupted more than once by strange noises that were heardat some distance off in the woods. These noises were not all alike: atone time they resembled the barking of a cur dog; at another, they mighthave been mistaken for the gurglings of a person who was being hanged;and then would follow a shriek so dreadful that for some time the woodswould echo with its dismal sound! After the shriek a laugh would beheard, but a miserable "haw-haw-haw!" unlike the laugh of a sane person. 

All these strange voices were calculated to inspire terror, and so havethey many a time, with travellers not accustomed to the solitary woodsof America. But our young voyageurs were not at all alarmed by them. They knew from what sort of a creature they proceeded; they knew theywere the varying notes of the great horned-owl (_Strix Virginiana_); andas they had seen and heard many a one before, they paid no heed to thisindividual. 

While Basil was going on with his relation, the bird had been severaltimes seen to glide past, and circle around upon his noiseless pinions. So easy was his flight, that the slightest inclining of his spread tail, or the bending of his broad wing, seemed sufficient to turn and carryhim in any direction. Nothing could be more graceful than his flight, which was not unlike that of the eagle, while he was but little inferiorin size to one of these noble birds. 

What interrupted Basil was, that the owl had alighted upon a branch nottwenty feet from where they were all sitting round the fire, by theblaze of which they now had a full view of this singular creature. Themoment it alighted, it commenced uttering its hideous and unmusicalcries, at the same time going through such a variety of contortions, both with its head and body, as to cause the whole party a fit oflaughter. It was, in fact, an odd and interesting sight to witness itsgrotesque movements, as it turned first its body, and then its headaround, without moving the shoulders, while its great honey-colouredeyes glared in the light of the fire. At the end of every attitude andutterance, it would snap its bill with such violence, that the crackingof the mandibles upon each other might have been heard to the distanceof several hundred yards. 

This was too much for Francois' patience to bear, and he immediatelycrept to his gun. He had got hold of the piece, and cocked it; but, just as he was about to take aim, the owl dropped silently down from thebranch, and, gliding gently forward, thrust out its feathered leg, andlifted one of the grouse in its talons. The latter had been lying uponthe top of a fallen tree not six feet from the fire! The owl, afterclutching it, rose into the air; and the next moment would have beenlost in darkness, but the crack of Francois' rifle put a sudden stop toits flight, and with the grouse still clinging to its claws it fellfluttering to the earth. Marengo jumped forward to seize it; butMarengo little knew the sort of creature he had to deal with. Ithappened to be only "winged, " and as soon as the dog came near, it threwitself upon its back, and struck at him with its talons so wickedly, that he was fain to approach it with more caution. It cost Marengo aconsiderable fight before he succeeded in getting his jaws over it. During the contest it continually snapped its bill, while its greatgoggle eyes kept alternately and quickly opening and closing, and thefeathers being erected all over its body, gave it the appearance ofbeing twice its real size. Marengo at length succeeded in "crunching"it--although not until he was well scratched about the snout--and itsuseless carcass having been thrown upon the ground, the dog continued toworry and chew at it, while Basil went on with his narration. 

CHAPTER TEN. 

BASIL AND THE BISON-BULL. 

"As soon as I saw the buffaloes, " continued Basil, "my first thought wasto get near, and have a shot at them. They were worth a charge ofpowder and lead, and I reflected that if I could kill but one of them, it would ensure us against hunger for a couple of weeks to come. So Ihung my game-bag to the branch of a tree, and set about approachingthem. I saw that the wind was in my favour, and there was no danger oftheir scenting me. But there was no cover near them--the ground was aslevel as a table, and there was not a score of trees upon as many acres. It was no use crawling up, and I did not attempt it, but walkedstraight forward, treading lightly as I went. In five minutes, I foundmyself within good shooting range. Neither of the bulls had noticed me. They were too busy with one another, and in all my life I never saw twocreatures fighting in such earnest. They were foaming at the mouth, andthe steam poured out of their nostrils incessantly. At times, theywould back from each other like a pair of rams, and then rush togetherhead-foremost, until their skulls cracked with the terrible collision. One would have fancied that they would break them at every freshencounter, but I knew the thickness of a buffalo's skull before thattime. I remember having fired a musket at one that stood fronting menot more than six feet distant, when, to my surprise, the bulletflattened and fell to the ground before the nose of the buffalo! Thecreature was not less astonished than myself, as up to that time it hadnot seen me. 

"Well, " continued Basil after a pause, "I did not stop long to watch thebattle of the bison-bulls. I was not curious about that. I had seensuch many a time. I was thinking about the meat; and I paused just longenough to select the one that appeared to have the most fat upon hisflanks, when I drew up my rifle and fired. I aimed for the heart, andmy aim was a true one, for the animal came to its knees along with thecrack. Just at that moment the other was charging upon it, and, to mysurprise, it continued to run on, until striking the wounded one fullbutt upon the forehead, it knocked the latter right over upon its side;where, after giving half-a-dozen kicks, it lay quite dead. 

"The remaining bull had dashed some paces beyond the spot, and nowturned round again to renew his attack. On seeing his antagoniststretched out and motionless, he seemed to be as much astonished as Iwas. At first, no doubt, he fancied himself the author of a grand_coup_, for it was plain that up to this time he had neither noticed mypresence, nor the report of the rifle. The bellowing noise that bothwere making had drowned the latter; and the dust, together with the longshaggy tufts that hung over his eyes, had prevented him from seeinganything more than his rival, with whom he was engaged. Now that theother was no longer able to stand before him, and thinking it washimself that had done the deed, he tossed up his head and snorted intriumph. At this moment, the matted hair was thrown back from his eyes, and the dust having somewhat settled away, he sighted me, where I stoodreloading my gun. I fancied he would take off before I could finish, and I made all the haste in my power--so much so that I dropped the boxof caps at my feet. I had taken one out, however, and hurriedlyadjusted it, thinking to myself, as I did so, that the box might liewhere it was until I had finished the job. I brought the piece to myshoulder, when, to my surprise, the bull, instead of running away, as Ihad expected, set his head, and uttering one of his terrible bellows, came rushing towards me. I fired, but the shot was a random one, andthough it hit him in the snout, it did not in the least disable him. Instead of keeping him off, it only seemed to irritate him the more, andhis fury was now at its height. 

"I had no time to load again. He was within a few feet of me when Ifired, and it was with difficulty that, by leaping to one side, Iavoided his horns; but I did so, and he passed me with such violencethat I felt the ground shake under his heavy tread. 

"He wheeled immediately, and made at me a second time. I knew that ifhe once touched me I was gone. His horns were set, and his eyes glaredwith a terrible earnestness. I rushed towards the body of the buffalothat lay near, hoping that this might assist me in avoiding the onset. It did so, for, as he dashed forward over it, he became entangled amongthe limbs, and again charged without striking me. He turned, however, as quick as thought, and again rushed bellowing upon me. There was atree near at hand. I had noticed it before, but I could not tellwhether I should have time to reach it. I was now somewhat nearer it, and, fearing that I might not be able to dodge the furious brute anylonger upon the ground, I struck out for the tree. You may be sure Idid my best at running. I heard the bull coming after, but before hecould overtake me, I had got to the root of the tree. It was myintention, at first, only to take shelter behind the trunk; but when Ihad got there, I noticed that there were some low branches, and catchingone of these I swung myself up among them. 

"The bull passed under me with a rush--almost touching my feet as I hungby the branch--but I was soon safely lodged in a fork, and out of hisreach. 

"My next thought was to load my gun, and fire at him from my perch, and, with this intention, I commenced loading. I had no fear but that hewould give me an opportunity, for he kept round the tree, and at timesattacked the trunk, butting and goring it with his horns, and all thewhile bellowing furiously. The tree was a small one, and it shook so, that I began to fear it might break down. I therefore made all thehaste I could to get in the load, expecting soon to put an end to hisattacks. I succeeded at length in ramming down the bullet, and was justturning the gun to put on a cap, when I recollected that the cap-box wasstill lying on the ground where it had fallen! The sudden attack of theanimal had prevented me from taking it up. My caps were all within thatbox, and my gun, loaded though it was, was as useless in my hands as abar of iron. To get at the caps would be quite impossible. I dared notdescend from the tree. The infuriated bull still kept pacing under it, now going round and round, and occasionally stopping for a moment andlooking angrily up. 

"My situation was anything but a pleasant one. I began to fear that Imight not be permitted to escape at all. The bull seemed to be mostpertinacious in his vengeance. I could have shot him in the back, orthe neck, or where I liked, if I had only had one cap. He was withinthree feet of the muzzle of my rifle; but what of that when I could notget the gun to go off? After a while I thought of making some tinderpaper, and then trying to `touch off' the piece with it, but a farbetter plan at that moment came into my head. While I was fumblingabout my bullet-pouch to get at my flint and steel, of course my fingerscame into contact with the lasso which was still hanging around myshoulders. It was this that suggested my plan, which was no other thanto _lasso the bull, and tie him to the tree_!

"I lost no time in carrying it into execution. I uncoiled the rope, andfirst made one end fast to the trunk. The other was the loop-end, andreeving it through the ring, I held it in my right hand while I leanedover and watched my opportunity. It was not long before a good oneoffered. The bull still continued his angry demonstrations below, andpassed round and round. It was no new thing for me to fling a lasso, and at the first pitch I had the satisfaction of seeing the noose passover the bison's head, and settle in a proper position behind his horns. I then gave it a twitch, so as to tighten it, and after that I ran therope over a branch, and thus getting `a purchase' upon it, I pulled itwith all my might. 

"As soon as the bull felt the strange cravat around his neck, he beganto plunge and `rout' with violence, and at length ran furiously out fromthe tree. But he soon came to the end of his tether; and the quickjerk, which caused the tree itself to crack, brought him to hishaunches, while the noose tightening on his throat was fast stranglinghim. But for the thick matted hair it would have done so, but thissaved him, and he continued to sprawl and struggle at the end of therope. The tree kept on cracking, and as I began to fear that it mightgive way and precipitate me to the ground, I thought it better to slipdown. I ran direct to where I had dropped the caps; and, having gothold of the box, I soon had one upon my gun. I then stole cautiouslyback, and while the bison was hanging himself as fast as he could, Ibrought his struggles to a period by sending a bullet through his ribs. 

"As it was quite night when I had finished the business, of course Icould not stay to butcher the bulls. I knew that you would be wonderingwhat kept me, so I cut out the tongues, and coming by the place where Ihad left the grouse, brought them along. I left a `scare-wolf' overboth the bulls, however, and I guess we'll find them all right in themorning. "

Basil having finished the narration of his day's adventures, fresh fuelwas heaped on the embers, and a huge fire was built--one that would lastuntil morning. This was necessary, as none of them had now eitherblankets or bedding. Basil himself and Norman were even in theirshirt-sleeves, and of course their only chance for keeping warmth intheir bodies would be to keep up a roaring fire all the night. Thisthey did, and all four laying themselves close together, slept soundlyenough. 

CHAPTER ELEVEN. 

THREE CURIOUS TREES. 

Next morning they were awake at an early hour. There was still enoughof the tongues and grouse left, along with some ribs of the antelope, tobreakfast the party; and then all four set out to bring the flesh ofBasil's buffaloes into camp. This they accomplished, after makingseveral journeys. It was their intention to dry the meat over the fire, so that it might keep for future use. For this purpose the flesh wasremoved from the bones, and after being cut into thin slices and strips, was hung up on poles at some distance from the blaze. Nothing morecould be done, but wait until it became sufficiently parched by theheat. 

While this process was going on our voyageurs collected around the fire, and entered into a consultation about what was best to be done. Atfirst they thought of going back to the Red River settlement, andobtaining another canoe, as well as a fresh stock of provisions andimplements. But they all believed that getting back would be a toilsomeand difficult matter. There was a large lake and several extensivemarshes on the route, and these would have to be got round, making thejourney a very long one indeed. It would take them days to perform iton foot, and nothing is more discouraging on a journey than to be forcedby some accident to what is called "taking the back-track. " All of themacknowledged this, but what else could they do? It is true there was apost of the Hudson's Bay Company at the northern end of Lake Winnipeg. This post was called Norway House. How were they to reach that afoot?To walk around the borders of the lake would be a distance of more thanfour hundred miles. There would be numerous rivers to cross, as well asswamps and pathless forests to be threaded. Such a journey would occupya month or more, and at Norway House they would still be as it were onlyat the beginning of the great journey on which they had set out. Moreover, Norway House lay entirely out of their way. CumberlandHouse--another trading post upon the River Saskatchewan--was the nextpoint where they had intended to rest themselves, after leaving the RedRiver settlements. To reach Cumberland House _afoot_ would be equallydifficult, as it, too, lay at the distance of hundreds of miles, withlakes, and rivers, and marshes, intervening. What, then, could they do?

"Let us _not_ go back, " cried Francois, ever ready with a bold advice;"let us make a boat, and keep on, say I. "

"Ha! Francois, " rejoined Basil, "it's easy to say `make a boat;' how isthat to be done, I pray?"

"Why, what's to hinder us to hew a log, and make a dugout? We havestill got the axe, and two hatchets left. "

Norman asked what Francois meant by a dugout. The phrase was new tohim. 

"A canoe, " replied Francois, "hollowed out of a tree. They aresometimes called `dugouts' on the Mississippi, especially when they areroughly made. One of them, I think, would carry all four of us wellenough. Don't you think so, Luce?"

"Why, yes, " answered the student; "a large one might: but I fear thereare no trees about here of sufficient size. We are not among the greattimber of the Mississippi bottom, you must remember. "

"How large a tree would it require?" asked Norman, who knew but littleof this kind of craft. 

"Three feet in diameter, at least, " replied Lucien; "and it should be ofthat thickness for a length of nearly twenty feet. A less one would notcarry four of us. "

"Then I am sure enough, " responded Norman, "that we won't find suchtimber here. I have seen no tree of that size either yesterday, orwhile we were out this morning. "

"Nor I, " added Basil. 

"I don't believe there's one, " said Lucien. 

"If we were in Louisiana, " rejoined Francois, "I could find fiftycanoe-trees by walking as many yards. Why, I never saw suchinsignificant timber as this here. "

"You'll see smaller timber than this, Cousin Frank, before we reach theend of our voyage. "

This remark was made by Norman, who knew that, as they proceedednorthward, the trees would be found decreasing in size until they wouldappear like garden shrubbery. 

"But come, " continued he, "if we can't build a craft to carry us from_one_ tree, perhaps we can do it out of _three_. "

"With three!" echoed Francois. "I should like to see a canoe made fromthree trees! Is it a raft you mean, Cousin Norman?"

"No, " responded the other; "a canoe, and one that will serve us for therest of our voyage. "

All three--Basil, Lucien, and Francois--looked to their cousin for anexplanation. 

"You would rather not go back up the river?" he inquired, glancing fromone to the other. 

"We wish to go on--all of us, " answered Basil, speaking for his brothersas well. 

"Very well, " assented the young fur-trader; "I think it is better as youwish it. Out of these trees I can build a boat that will carry us. Itwill take us some days to do it, and some time to find the timber, but Iam tolerably certain it is to be found in these woods. To do the jobproperly I want three kinds; two of them I can see from where I sit; thethird I expect will be got in the hills we saw this morning. "

As Norman spoke he pointed to two trees that grew among many others notfar from the spot. These trees were of very different kinds, as waseasily told by their leaves and bark. The nearer and more conspicuousof them at once excited the curiosity of the three Southerners. Lucienrecognised it from its botanical description. Even Basil and Francois, though they had never seen it, as it is not to be found in the hot climeof Louisiana, knew it from the accounts given of it by travellers. Thetree was the celebrated "canoe-birch, " or, as Lucien named it, "paper-birch" (_Betula papyracea_), celebrated as the tree out of whosebark those beautiful canoes are made that carry thousands of Indiansover the interior lakes and rivers of North America; out of whose barkwhole tribes of these people fashion their bowls, their pails, and theirbaskets; with which they cover their tents, and from which they evenmake their soup-kettles and boiling-pots! This, then, was thecanoe-birch-tree, so much talked of, and so valuable to the poor Indianswho inhabit the cold regions where it grows. 

Our young Southerners contemplated the tree with feelings of interestand curiosity. They saw that it was about sixty feet high, and somewhatmore than a foot in diameter. Its leaves were nearly cordate, orheart-shaped, and of a very dark-green colour; but that which renderedit most conspicuous among the other trees of the forest was the shiningwhite or silver-coloured bark that covered its trunk, and its numerousslender branches. This bark is only white externally. When you havecut through the epidermis you find it of a reddish tinge, very thick, and capable of being divided into several layers. The wood of the treemakes excellent fuel, and is also often used for articles of furniture. It has a close, shining grain, and is strong enough for ordinaryimplements; but if exposed to the weather will decay rapidly. 

The "canoe-birch" is not the only species of these trees found in NorthAmerica. The genus _Betula_ (so called from the Celtic word _batu_, which means birch) has at least half-a-dozen other known representativesin these parts. There is the "white birch" (_Betula populifolia_), aworthless tree of some twenty feet in height, and less than six inchesdiameter. The bark of this species is useless, and its wood, which issoft and white, is unfit even for fuel. It grows, however, in thepoorest soil. Next there is a species called the "cherry-birch"(_Betula lento_), so named from the resemblance of its bark to thecommon cherry-tree. It is also called "sweet birch, " because its youngtwigs, when crushed, give out a pleasant aromatic odour. Sometimes thename of "black birch" is given to this species. It is a tree of fiftyor sixty feet in height, and its wood is much used in cabinet-work, asit is close-grained, of a beautiful reddish colour, and susceptible of ahigh polish. 

The "yellow birch" is a tree of the same size, and is so called from thecolour of its epidermis. It is likewise used in cabinet-work, though itis not considered equal in quality to the cherry-birch. Its leaves andtwigs have also an aromatic smell when bruised, not so strong, however, as the last-mentioned. The wood makes excellent fuel, and is much usedfor that purpose in some of the large cities of America. The bark, too, is excellent for tanning--almost equal to that of the oak. 

The "red birch" is still another species, which takes its name from thereddish hue of its bark. This is equal in size to the canoe-birch, often growing seventy feet high, with a trunk of nearly three feetdiameter. Its branches are long, slender, and pendulous; and it is fromthe twigs of this species that most of the "birch-brooms" used inAmerica are made. 

Still another species of American birches is the "dwarf birch" (_Betulanana_), so called from its diminutive size, which is that of a shrub, only eighteen inches or two feet in height. It usually grows in verycold or mountainous regions, and is the smallest of these interestingtrees. 

This information regarding the birches of America was given by Lucien tohis brothers, not at that time, but shortly afterward, when the threewere engaged in felling one of these trees. Just then other mattersoccupied them, and they had only glanced, first at the canoe-birch andthen at the other tree which Norman had pointed out. The latter was ofa different genus. It belonged to the order _Coniferae_, orcone-bearing trees, as was evident from the cone-shaped fruits that hungupon its branches, as well as from its needle-like evergreen leaves. 

The cone-bearing trees of America are divided by botanists into threegreat sub-orders--the _Pines_, the _Cypresses_, and the _Yews_. Each ofthese includes several genera. By the "pine tribe" is meant all thosetrees known commonly by the names pine, spruce, fir, and larch; whilethe _Cupressinae_, or cypress tribe, are the cypress proper, the cedars, the arbour-vitae, and the junipers. The yew tribe has fewer genera orspecies; but the trees in America known as yews and hemlocks--of whichthere are several varieties--belong to it. 

Of the pine tribe a great number of species exist throughout the NorthAmerican Continent. The late explorations on the western slope of theRocky Mountains, and in the countries bordering on the Pacific, havebrought to light a score of species hitherto unknown to the botanist. Many of these are trees of a singular and valuable kind. Severalspecies found in the mountains of North Mexico, and throughout thosedesert regions where hardly any other vegetation exists, have edibleseeds upon which whole tribes of Indians subsist for many months in theyear. The Spanish Americans call them _pinon_ trees, but there areseveral species of them in different districts. The Indians parch theseeds, and sometimes pound them into a coarse meal, from which they bakea very palatable bread. This bread is often rendered more savoury bymixing the meal with dried "prairie crickets, " a species of coleopterousinsects--that is, insects with a crustaceous or shell-like covering overtheir wings--which are common in the desert wilds where these Indiansdwell. Some prairie travellers have pronounced this singular mixtureequal to the "best pound-cake. "

The "Lambert pine, " so called from the botanist of that name, is foundin Oregon and California, and may be justly considered one of thewonders of the world. Three hundred feet is not an uncommon height forthis vegetable giant; and its cones have been seen of eighteen inches inlength, hanging like sugar-loaves from its high branches! The wonderful"palo Colorado" of California is another giant of the pine tribe. Italso grows above three hundred feet high, with a diameter of sixteenfeet! Then there is the "red pine, " of eighty feet high, much used forthe decks and masts of ships; the "pitch-pine" (_Pinus rigida_), asmaller tree, esteemed for its fuel, and furnishing most of the firewoodused in some of the American cities. From this species the strongburning "knots" are obtained. There is the "white pine" (_Pinusstrobus_), valuable for its timber. This is one of the largest and bestknown of the pines. It often attains a height of an hundred and fiftyfeet, and a large proportion of those planks so well-known to thecarpenter are sawed from its trunk. In the State of New York alone noless than 700, 000, 000 feet of timber are annually obtained from trees ofthis species, which, by calculation, must exhaust every year theenormous amount of 70, 000 acres of forest! Of course, at this rate thepine-forests of New York State must soon be entirely destroyed. 

In addition, there is the "yellow pine, " a tree of sixty feet high, muchused in flooring houses; and the beautiful "balsam fir, " used as anornamental evergreen both in Europe and America, and from which isobtained the well-known medicine--the "Canada balsam. " This tree, infavourable situations, attains the height of sixty feet; while upon thecold summits of mountains it is often seen rising only a few inches fromthe surface. The "hemlock spruce" (_Pinus Canadensis_), is anotherspecies, the bark of which is used in tanning. It is inferior to theoak, though the leather made by it is of excellent quality. The "black"or "double spruce" (_Pinus nigra_), is that species from the twigs ofwhich is extracted the essence that gives its peculiar flavour to thewell-known "_spruce beer_. " Besides these, at least a dozen new specieshave lately been discovered on the interior mountains of Mexico--all ofthem more or less possessing valuable properties. 

The pines cannot be termed trees of the tropics, yet do they grow insouthern and warm countries. In the Carolinas, tar and turpentine, products of the pine, are two staple articles of exportation; and evenunder the equator itself, the high mountains are covered withpine-forests. But the pine is more especially the tree of a northern_sylva_. As you approach the Arctic circle, it becomes thecharacteristic tree. There it appears in extensive forests, lendingtheir picturesque shelter to the snowy desolation of the earth. Onespecies of pine is the very last tree that disappears as the traveller, in approaching the pole, takes his leave of the limits of vegetation. This species is the "white spruce" (_Pinus alba_), the very one which, along with the birch-tree, had been pointed out by Norman to hiscompanions. 

It was a tree not over thirty or forty feet high, with a trunk of lessthan a foot in thickness, and of a brownish colour. Its leaves or"needles" were about an inch in length, very slender and acute, and of abluish green tint. The cones upon it, which at that season were young, were of a pale green. When ripe, however, they become rusty-brown, andare nearly two inches in length. 

What use Norman would make of this tree in building his canoe, neitherBasil nor Francois knew. Lucien only guessed at it. Francois asked thequestion, by saying that he supposed the "timbers" were to come out ofit. 

"No, " said Norman, "for that I want still another sort. If I can't findthat sort, however, I can manage to do without it, but not so well. "

"What other sort?" demanded Francois. 

"I want some cedar-wood, " replied the other. 

"Ah! that's for the timbers, " said Francois; "I am sure of it. Thecedar-wood is lighter than any other, and, I dare say, would answeradmirably for ribs and other timbers. "

"You are right this time, Frank--it is considered the best for thatpurpose. "

"You think there are cedar-trees on the hills we saw this morning?" saidFrancois, addressing his Canadian cousin. 

"I think so. I noticed something like them. "

"And I, too, observed a dark foliage, " said Lucien, "which looked likethe cedar. If anywhere in this neighbourhood, we shall find them there. They usually grow upon rocky, sterile hills, such as those appear tobe--that is their proper situation. "

"The question, " remarked Basil, "ought to be settled at once. We havemade up our mind to the building of a canoe, and I think we should loseno time in getting ready the materials. Suppose we all set out for thehills. "

"Agreed--agreed!" shouted the others with one voice; and thenshouldering their guns, and taking the axe along, all four set out forthe hills. On reaching these, the object of their search was at oncediscovered. The tops of all the hills--dry, barren ridges they were--were covered with a thick grove of the red cedar (_Juniperusviginiana_). The trees were easily distinguished by the numerousbranches spreading horizontally, and thickly covered with shortdark-green needles, giving them that sombre, shady appearance, thatmakes them the favourite haunt of many species of owls. Their beautifulreddish wood was well-known to all the party, as it is to almost everyone in the civilised world. Everybody who has seen or used a black-leadpencil must know what the wood of the red cedar is like--for it is inthis the black-lead is usually incased. In all parts of America, wherethis tree grows in plenty, it is employed for posts and fence-rails, asit is one of the most durable woods in existence. It is a greatfavourite also for kindling fires, as it catches quickly, and blazes upin a few seconds, so as to ignite the heavier logs of other timbers, such as the oak and the pine. 

The red cedar usually attains a height of about thirty to forty feet, but in favourable situations it grows still larger. The soil which itloves best is of a stony, and often sterile character, and dry barrenhill-tops are frequently covered with cedars, while the more moist andfertile valleys between possess a _sylva_ of a far different character. There is a variety of the red cedar, which trails upon the ground like acreeping plant, its branches even taking root again. This is rather asmall bush than a tree, and is often seen hanging down the face ofinaccessible cliffs. It is known among botanists as the _Juniperusprostrata_. 

"Now, " said Norman, after examining a few of the cedar-trees, "we havehere all that's wanted to make our canoe. We need lose no more time, but go to work at once!"

"Very well, " replied the three brothers, "we are ready to assist you, --tell us what to do. "

"In the first place, " said the other, "I think we had better change ourcamp to this spot, as I see all the different kinds of trees here, andmuch better ones than those near the river. There, " continued he, pointing to a piece of moist ground in the valley, --"there are somejourneys if we go back and bring our meat to this place at once. "

To this they all of course agreed, and started back to their first camp. They soon returned with the meat and other things, and having chosen aclean spot under a large-spreading cedar-tree, they kindled a new fireand made their camp by it--that is, they strung up the provisions, hungtheir horns and pouches upon the branches around, and rested their gunsagainst the trees. They had no tent to pitch, but that is not necessaryto constitute a camp. In the phraseology of the American hunter, wherever you kindle your fire or spend the night is a "camp. "

CHAPTER TWELVE. 

HOW TO BUILD A BARK CANOE. 

Norman expected that they would be able to finish the canoe in about aweek. Of course, the sooner the better, and no time was lost in settingabout it. The ribs or "timbers" were the first thing to be fashioned, and a number of straight branches of cedar were cut, out of which theywere to be made. These branches were cleared of twigs, and rendered ofan equal thickness at both ends. They were then flattened with theknife; and, by means of a little sweating in the ashes, were bent so asto bear some resemblance in shape to the wooden ox-yokes commonly usedin America, or indeed to the letter U. The ribs when thus bent were notall of the same width. On the contrary, those which were intended to beplaced near the middle or gangway of the vessel, were about two feetacross from side to side, while the space between the sides of theothers was gradually less in each fresh pair, according as theirposition was to be near to the stem and stern. When the whole of themhad been forced into the proper shape, they were placed, one inside theother after the manner of dishes, and then all were firmly lashedtogether, and left to dry. When the lashing should be removed, theywould hold to the form thus given them, and would be ready for fasteningto the kelson. 

While Norman was occupied with the timbers the others were not idle. Basil had cut down several of the largest and straightest birches, andLucien employed himself in carefully removing the bark and cleansing itof nodules and other inequalities. The broad sheets were suspended by asmoke fire, so as completely to dry up the sap, and render it tough andelastic. Francois had his part to play, and that was to collect theresinous gum which was distilled, in plenty from the trunks of theepinette or spruce-trees. This gum is a species of pitch, and is one ofthe most necessary materials in the making of a bark canoe. It is usedfor "paying" the seams, as well as any cracks that may show themselvesin the bark itself; and without it, or some similar substance, it wouldbe difficult to make one of these little vessels watertight. But thatis not the only thing for which the epinette is valued incanoe-building; far from it. This tree produces another indispensablematerial; its long fibrous roots when split, form the twine-like threadsby which the pieces of bark are sewed to each other and fastened to thetimbers. These threads are as strong as the best cords of hemp, and areknown among the Indians by the name of "watap. " In a country, therefore, where hemp and flax cannot be readily procured, the "watap"is of great value. You may say that deer are plenty, and that thongs ofbuckskin would serve the same purpose. This, however, is not the case. The buckskin would never do for such a use. The moment it becomes wetit is liable to stretch, so that the seams would open and the canoe getfilled with water. The watap, wet or dry, does not yield, and hastherefore been found to be the best thing of all others for thispurpose. The only parts now wanted were the gunwale and the bottom. The former was easily obtained. Two long poles, each twenty feet inlength, were bent somewhat like a pair of bows, and then placed withtheir concave sides towards each other, and firmly lashed together atthe ends. This was the gunwale. The bottom was the most difficult partof all. For that a solid plank was required, and they had no saw. Theaxe and the hatchet, however, were called into requisition, and a logwas soon hewn and thinned down to the proper dimensions. It wassharpened off at the ends, so as to run to a very acute angle, both atthe stem and stern. When the bottom was considered sufficientlypolished, and modelled to the right shape, the most difficult part ofthe undertaking was supposed to be accomplished. A few long poles werecut and trimmed flat. These were to be laid longitudinally between theribs and the bark, somewhat after the fashion of laths in the roofing ofa house. Their use was to prevent the bark from splitting. Thematerials were now all obtained complete, and, with a few days' smokingand drying, would be ready for putting together. 

While waiting for the timbers to dry, paddles were made, and Norman, with the help of the others, prepared what he jokingly called his"dock, " and also his "ship-yard. " This was neither more nor less than along mound of earth--not unlike a new-made grave, only three times thelength of one, or even longer. It was flat upon the top, and gradedwith earth so as to be quite level and free from inequalities. 

At length all the materials were considered quite ready for use, andNorman went to work to put them together. 

His first operation was to untie the bundle of timbers, and separatethem. They were found to have taken the exact form into which they hadbeen bent, and the thongs being no longer necessary to keep them inplace, were removed. The timbers themselves were next placed upon thebottom or kelson, those with the widest bottoms being nearer to"midships, " while those with the narrower bend were set towards thenarrower ends of the plank. Thus placed, they were all firmly lashedwith strong cords of watap, by means of holes pierced in the bottomplank. Fortunately Lucien happened to have a pocket-knife, in whichthere was a good awl or piercer, that enabled them to make these holes--else the matter would have been a much more difficult one, as an awl isone of the most essential tools in the construction of a bark canoe. Ofcourse it took Norman a considerable time to set all the ribs in theirproper places, and fasten them securely; but he was ably assisted byFrancois, who waited upon him with much diligence, handing him now theawl, and then the watap, whenever he required them. 

Norman's next operation was the laying of his kelson "in dock. " Thetimbers being attached to it, it was lifted up on the earthen mound, where it reached quite from end to end. Half-a-dozen large heavy stoneswere then placed upon it, so that, pressed down by these upon the evensurface of the mould, it was rendered quite firm; and, moreover, was ofsuch a height from the ground that the young shipwright could work uponit without too much bending and kneeling. 

The gunwale, already prepared, was next placed so as to touch the endsof the ribs all round, and these ends were adjusted to it with greatnicety, and firmly joined. Strong cross-pieces were fixed, which weredesigned, not only to keep the gunwale from spreading or contracting, but afterwards to serve as seats. 

Of course the gunwale formed the complete mouth, or upper edge of thecanoe. It was several feet longer than the bottom plank, and, when inplace, projected beyond the ribs at both ends. From each end of thebottom plank, therefore, to the corresponding end of the gunwale, astraight piece of wood was stretched, and fastened. One of these pieceswould form the stem or cutwater, while the other would become the sternof the craft. The long poles were next laid longitudinally upon theribs outside, and lashed in their places; and this done, the skeletonwas completed, ready for the bark. 

The latter had been already cut to the proper dimensions and shape. Itconsisted of oblong pieces--each piece being a regular parallelogram, asit had been stripped from the tree. These were laid upon the ribslongitudinally, and then sewed to the edge of the bottom plank, and alsoto the gunwale. The bark itself was in such broad pieces that two ofthem were sufficient to cover half a side, so that but one seam wasrequired lengthwise, in addition to the fastenings at the top andbottom. Two lengths of the bark also reached cleverly from stem tostern, and thus required only one transverse seam on each side. Therewas an advantage in this arrangement, for where the birch-bark can onlybe obtained in small flakes, a great number of seams is a necessaryconsequence, and then it is extremely difficult to keep the canoe fromleaking. Thanks to the fine birch-trees, that grew in abundance around, our boat-builders had procured the very best bark. 

The canoe was now completed all but the "paying, " and that would nottake long to do. The gum of the epinette had to be boiled, and mixedwith a little grease, so as to form a species of wax. For this the fatalready obtained from the buffaloes was the very thing; and a small tincup which Basil had saved from the wreck (it had been strung to hisbullet-pouch), enabled them to melt the gum, and apply it hot. In lessthan an hour the thing was done. Every crack and awl-hole was payed, and the canoe was pronounced "watertight, " and, as Francois added, witha laugh, "seaworthy. "

A small pond was near, at the bottom of the hill: Francois espied it. 

"Come, boys, " cried he, "a launch! a launch!"

This was agreed to by all. The great stones were taken out. Basil andNorman, going one to the stem the other to the stern, lifted the canoefrom the "dock, " and, raising it upon their shoulders, carried it downto the pond. The next moment it was pushed into the water, where itfloated like a cork. A loud cheer was given, in which even Marengojoined; and a salute was then fired--a full broadside--from the fourguns. Francois, to complete the thing, seized one of the paddles, andleaping into the canoe, shot the little craft out upon the bosom of thepond, cheering all the while like one frantic. After amusing himselffor some minutes, he paddled back to the shore, when they all lookedeagerly into the canoe, and perceived to their gratification that not asmuch as a drop of water had leaked during the "trip. " Thanks andcongratulations now greeted Norman from every side; and, taking theirvessel from the water, the young voyageurs returned to their camp, toregale themselves with a grand dinner, which Lucien had cooked for theoccasion. 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN. 

THE CHAIN OF LAKES. 

Our young voyageurs now prepared to resume their journey. While Normanwas engaged in building his canoe, with his assistant, Francois, theothers had not been idle. Basil was, of course, the hunter of theparty; and, in addition to the small game, such as hares, geese, andgrouse, he had killed three caribou, of the large variety known as"woodland caribou. " These are a species of the reindeer (_Cervustarandus_), of which I have more to say hereafter. Lucien had attendedto the drying of their flesh; and there was enough of it still left, asour voyageurs believed, to supply their wants until they should reachCumberland House, where they would, of course, procure a fresh stock ofprovisions. The skins of the caribou had also been scraped and dressedby Lucien--who understood the process well--and these, with the skin ofthe antelope, were sufficient to make a pair of hunting-shirts for Basiland Norman, who, it will be remembered, had lost theirs by cutting themup. 

Next morning the canoe was launched upon the river--below the rapids--and the dried meat, with their other matters, snugly stowed in thestern. Then the young voyageurs got in, and, seating themselves intheir places, seized hold of the paddles. The next moment the canoeshot out into the stream; and a triumphant cheer from the crew announcedthat they had recommenced their journey. They found to their delightthat the little vessel behaved admirably, --shooting through the waterlike an arrow, and leaking not water enough, as Francois expressed it, "to drown a mosquito. " They had all taken their seats in the orderwhich had been agreed upon for the day. Norman was "bowsman, " and, ofcourse, sate in the bow. This, among the regular Canadian voyageurs, isesteemed the post of honour, and the bowsman is usually styled "Captain"by the rest of the crew. It is also the post that requires the greatestamount of skill on the part of its occupant, particularly where thereare rapids or shoals to be avoided. The post of "steersman" is also oneof honour and importance; and both steersman and bowsman receive higherwages than the other voyageurs, who pass under the name of "middlemen. "The steersman sits in the stern, and that place was now occupied byLucien, who had proved himself an excellent steersman. Basil andFrancois were, of course, the "middlemen, " and plied the paddles. Thiswas the arrangement made for the day; but although on other days theprogramme was to be changed, so as to relieve Basil and Francois, on alloccasions when there were rapids or other difficulties to be encounteredthey were to return to this order. Norman, of course, understood canoenavigation better than his Southern cousins; and therefore, by universalassent, he was acknowledged "the Captain, " and Francois always addressedhim as such. Lucien's claim to the post of second honour was admittedto be just, as he had proved himself capable of filling it to thesatisfaction of all. Marengo had no post, but lay quietly upon thebuffalo skin between Lucien's legs, and listened to the conversationwithout joining in it, or in any way interfering in the working of thevessel. 

In a few hours our voyageurs had passed through the low marshy countrythat lies around the mouth of the Red River, and the white expanse ofthe great Lake Winnipeg opened before them, stretching northward farbeyond the range of their vision. Norman knew the lake, having crossedit before, but its aspect somewhat disappointed the Southern travellers. Instead of a vast dark lake which they had expected to see, they lookedupon a whitish muddy sheet, that presented but few attractive points tothe eye, either in the hue of its water or the scenery of its shores. These, so far as they could see them, were low, and apparently marshy;and this is, in fact, the character of the southern shores of Winnipeg. On its east and north, however, the country is of a different character. There the geological formation is what is termed _primitive_. Therocks consist of granite, sienite, gneiss, etcetera; and, as is alwaysthe case where such rocks are found, the country is hilly and rugged. On the western shores a _secondary_ formation exists. This is_stratified limestone_, --the same as that which forms the bed of many ofthe great prairies of America; and, indeed, the Lake Winnipeg liesbetween this secondary formation and the primitive, which bounds it onthe east. Along its western shores extends the flat limestone country, partly wooded and partly prairie land, running from that point forhundreds of miles up to the very foot of the Rocky Mountains, where theprimitive rocks again make their appearance in the rugged peaks of thatstupendous chain. Lake Winnipeg is nearly three hundred miles inlength, but it is very narrow--being in its widest reach not over fiftymiles, and in many places only fifteen miles from shore to shore. Ittrends nearly due north and south, leaning a little north-west andsouth-east, and receives many large rivers, as the Red, theSaskatchewan, and the Winnipeg. The waters of these are again carriedout of it by other rivers that run from the lake, and empty into theHudson's Bay. There is a belief among the hunters and voyageurs thatthis lake has its tides like the ocean. Such, however, is not the case. There is at times a rise and overflow of its waters, but it is notperiodical, and is supposed to be occasioned by strong winds forcing thewaters towards a particular shore. 

Lake Winnipeg is remarkable, as being in the very centre of the NorthAmerican continent, and may be called the centre of the _canoenavigation_. From this point it is possible to travel _by water_ toHudson's Bay on the north-east, to the Atlantic Ocean on the east, tothe Gulf of Mexico on the south, to the Pacific on the west, and to thePolar Sea on the north and north-west. Considering that some of thesedistances are upwards of three thousand miles, it will be perceived thatLake Winnipeg holds a singular position upon the continent. All theroutes mentioned can be made without any great "portage, " and even achoice of route is often to be had upon those different lines ofcommunication. 

These were points of information communicated by Norman as the canoe waspaddled along the shore; for Norman, although troubling himself butlittle about the causes of things, possessed a good practical knowledgeof things as they actually were. He was tolerably well acquainted withthe routes, their portages, and distances. Some of them he hadtravelled over in company with his father, and of others he had heardthe accounts given by the voyageurs, traders, and trappers. Norman knewthat Lake Winnipeg was muddy, --he did not care to inquire the cause. Heknew that there was a hilly country on its eastern and a low level landon its western shores, but it never occurred to him to speculate on thisgeological difference. It was the naturalist Lucien who threw out somehints on this part of the subject, and further added his opinion, thatthe lake came to be there in consequence of the wearing away of therocks at the junction of the stratified with the primitive formation, thus creating an excavation in the surface, which in time became filledwith water and formed the lake. This cause he also assigned for theexistence of a remarkable "chain of lakes" that extends almost from theArctic Sea to the frontiers of Canada. The most noted of these areMartin, Great Slave, Athabasca, Wollaston, Deer, Lake Winnipeg, and theLake of the Woods. Lucien further informed his companions, that whereprimitive rocks form the surface of a country, that surface will befound to exhibit great diversity of aspect. There will be numerouslakes and swamps, rugged steep hills with deep valleys between, shortstreams with many falls and rapids. These are the characteristics of aprimitive surface. On the other hand, where secondary rocks prevail thesurface is usually a series of plains, often high, dry, and treeless, asis the case upon the great American prairies. 

Upon such topics did Lucien instruct his companions, as they paddledtheir canoe around the edge of the lake. They had turned the head oftheir little vessel westward--as it was their design to keep along thewestern border of the lake until they should reach the mouth of theSaskatchewan. They kept at a short distance from the shore, usuallysteering from point to point, and in this way making their route asdirect as possible. It would have been still more direct had theystruck out into the open lake, and kept up its middle; but this wouldhave been a dangerous course to pursue. There are often high winds uponLake Winnipeg, that spring up suddenly; and at such times the waves, ifnot mountains high, at least arrive at the height of houses. Among suchbillows the little craft would have been in danger of being swamped, andour voyageurs of going to the bottom. They, therefore, wisely resolvednot to risk such an accident, but to "hug the shore, " though it madetheir voyage longer. Each night they would land at some convenientplace, kindle their fire, cook their supper, and dry their canoe for thenext day's journey. 

According to this arrangement, a little before sunset of the first daythey came to land and made their camp. The canoe was unloaded, carefully lifted out of the water, and then set bottom upward to dripand dry. A fire was kindled, some of the dry meat cooked, and all foursat down and began to eat, as only hungry travellers can. 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN. 

WAPITI, WOLVES, AND WOLVERENE. 

The spot where our voyageurs had landed was at the bottom of a smallbay. The country back from the lake was level and clear of timber. Here and there, nearer the shore, however, its surface was prettilyinterspersed with small clumps of willows, that formed little copse-likethickets of deep green. Beside one of these thickets, within a hundredyards of the beach, the fire had been kindled, on a spot of ground thatcommanded a view of the plain for miles back. 

"Look yonder!" cried Francois, who had finished eating, and risen to hisfeet. "What are these, captain?" Francois pointed to some objects thatappeared at a great distance off upon the plain. 

The "captain" rose up, placed his hand so as to shade his eyes from thesun, and, after looking for a second or two in the direction indicated, replied to the other's question by simply saying--

"Wapiti. "

"I'm no wiser than before I asked the question, " said Francois. "Pray, enlighten me as to what a wapiti may be!"

"Why, red deer; or elk, if you like. "

"Oh! elk--now I understand you. I thought they were elk, but they're sofar off I wasn't sure. "

Lucien at this moment rose up, and looking through a small telescope, which he carried, confirmed the statement of the "captain, " andpronounced it to be a herd of elk. 

"Come, Luce, " demanded Francois, "tell us what you know of the elk. Itwill pass the time. Norman says it's no use going after them out therein the open ground, as they'd shy off before one could get within shot. You see there is not a bush within half-a-mile of them. "

"If we wait, " interrupted Norman, "I should not wonder but we may havethem among the bushes before long. They appear to be grazing this way. I warrant you, they'll come to the lake to drink before nightfall. "

"Very well then: the philosopher can tell us all about them beforethat. "

Lucien, thus appealed to, began:--

"There are few animals that have so many names as this. It is called indifferent districts, or by different authors, _elk, round-horned elk, American elk, stag, red deer, grey moose, le biche, wapiti_, and_wewaskish_. Naturalists have given not a _few of_ their designations, as _Cervus Canadensis, Cervus major, Cervus alces, Cervusstrongylocerus, etcetera_. 

"You may ask, Why so many names? I shall tell you. It is called `elk'because it was supposed by the early colonists to be the same as the elkof Europe. Its name of `grey moose' is a hunter appellation, todistinguish it from the real moose, which the same hunters know as the`black moose. ' `Round-horned elk' is also a hunter name. `Wewaskish, 'or `waskesse, ' is an Indian name for the animal. `Stag' comes from theEuropean deer so called, because this species somewhat resembles thestag; and `red deer' is a name used by the Hudson Bay traders. `Lebiche' is another synonyme of French authors. 

"Of all these names I think that of `wapiti, ' which our cousin hasgiven, the best. The names of `elk, ' `stag, ' and `red deer, ' lead toconfusion, as there are other species to which they properly belong, allof which are entirely different from the wapiti. I believe that thislast name is now used by the best-informed naturalists. 

"In my opinion, " continued Lucien, "the wapiti is the noblest of all thedeer kind. It possesses the fine form of the European stag, while it isnearly a third larger and stronger. It has all the grace of limb andmotion that belongs to the common deer, while its towering horns give ita most majestic and imposing appearance. Its colour during the summeris of a reddish brown, hence the name red deer; but, indeed, the reddishtint upon the wapiti is deeper and richer than that of its Europeancousin. The wapiti, like other deer, brings forth its fawns in thespring. They are usually a male and female, for two is the number itproduces. The males only have horns; and they must be several years oldbefore the antlers become full and branching. They fall every year, butnot until February or March, and then the new ones grow out in a monthor six weeks. During the summer the horns remain soft and tender to thetouch. They are covered at this time with a soft membrane that lookslike greyish velvet, and they are then said to be `in the velvet, ' Thereare nerves and blood-vessels running through this membrane, and a blowupon the horns at this season gives great pain to the animal. When theautumn arrives the velvet peels off, and they become as hard as bone. They would need to be, for this is the `rutting' season, and the bucksfight furious battles with each other, clashing their horns together, asif they would break them to pieces. Very often a pair of bucks, whilethus contending, `lock' their antlers, and being unable to draw themapart, remain head to head, until both die with hunger, or fall a preyto the prowling wolves. This is true not only of the elk, but also ofthe reindeer, the moose, and many other species of deer. Hundreds ofpairs of horns have been found thus `locked, ' and the solitary hunterhas often surprised the deer in this unpleasant predicament. 

"The wapiti utters a whistling sound, that can be heard far off, andoften guides the hunter to the right spot. In the rutting season thebucks make other noises, which somewhat resemble the braying of an ass, and are equally disagreeable to listen to. 

"The wapiti travel about in small herds, rarely exceeding fifty, butoften of only six or seven. Where they are not much hunted they areeasily approached, but otherwise they are shy enough. The bucks, whenwounded and brought to bay, become dangerous assailants; much more sothan those of the common deer. Hunters have sometimes escaped withdifficulty from their horns and hoofs, with the latter of which they caninflict very severe blows. They are hunted in the same way as otherdeer; but the Indians capture many of them in the water, when theydiscover them crossing lakes or rivers. They are excellent swimmers, and can make their way over the arm of a lake or across the widestriver. 

"They feed upon grass, and sometimes on the young shoots of willows andpoplar-trees. They are especially fond of a species of wild rose (_Rosablanda_), which grows in the countries they frequent. 

"The wapiti at one time ranged over a large part of the continent ofNorth America. Its range is now restricted by the spread of thesettlements. It is still found in most of the Northern parts of theUnited States, but only in remote mountainous districts, and even thereit is a rare animal. In Canada it is more common; and it roams acrossthe continent to the shores of the Pacific. It is not an animal of thetropical countries, as it is not found in Mexico proper. On the otherhand, wapiti do not go farther north than about the fifty-seventhparallel of latitude, and then they are not in their favourite habitat, which is properly the temperate zone. "

Lucien was interrupted by an exclamation from Basil, who stood uplooking out upon the prairie. They all saw that he had been observingthe wapiti. 

"What is it?" cried they. 

"Look yonder!" replied Basil, pointing in the direction of the herd. "Something disturbs them. Give me your glass, Luce. "

Lucien handed the telescope to his brother, who, drawing it to theproper focus, pointed it towards the deer. The rest watched them withthe naked eye. They could see that there was some trouble among theanimals. There were only six in the herd, and even at the distance ourvoyageurs could tell that they were all bucks, for it was the seasonwhen the does secrete themselves in the woods and thickets to bringforth their young. They were running to and fro upon the prairie, anddoubling about as if playing, or rather as if some creature was chasingthem. With the naked eye, however, nothing could be seen upon theground but the bucks themselves, and all the others looked to Basil, whoheld the glass, for an explanation of their odd manoeuvres. 

"There are wolves at them, " said Basil, after regarding them for asecond or two. 

"That's odd, " rejoined Norman. "Wolves don't often attack full-grownwapiti, except when wounded or crippled somehow. They must be precioushungry. What sort of wolves are they?"

To you, boy reader, this question may seem strange. You, perhaps, thinkthat a wolf is a wolf, and there is but one kind. Such, however, is notthe exact truth. In America there are two distinct species of wolves, and of these two species there are many varieties, which differ so muchin colour and other respects, that some authors have classed them as somany distinct species instead of considering them mere varieties. Whether they may be species or not is still a question amongnaturalists; but certain it is that _two_ well-defined species do exist, which differ in size, form, colour, and habits. These are the _large_or _common wolf (Canis lupus_), and the barking or prairie wolf (_Canislatrans_). The first species is the American representative of thecommon wolf of Europe; and although an animal of similar nature andhabits, it differs very much from the latter in form and appearance. Itis, therefore, not the _same_, as hitherto supposed. This American wolfis found in greater or less numbers throughout the whole continent; butin the Northern regions it is very common, and is seen in at least fivedifferent varieties, known by the characteristic names of _black, pied, white, dusky_, and _grey_ wolves. Of these the grey is the mostnumerous kind; but as I shall have occasion to speak of the large wolveshereafter, I shall say no more of them at present, but direct yourattention to the second and very different species, the _prairiewolves_. 

These are a full third smaller than the common kind. They are swifter, and go in larger packs. They bring forth their young in burrows on theopen plain, and not among the woods, like the other species. They arethe most cunning of American animals, not excepting their kindred thefoxes. They cannot be trapped by any contrivance, but by singularmanoeuvres often themselves decoy the over-curious antelope to approachtoo near them. When a gun is fired upon the prairies they may be seenstarting up on all sides, and running for the spot in hopes of coming infor a share of the game. Should an animal--deer, antelope, or buffalo--be wounded, and escape the hunter, it is not likely to escape them also. They will set after it, and run it down if _the wound has been a mortalone_. On the other hand, if the wound has been only slight, and is notlikely in the end to cripple the animal, the wolves will not stir fromthe spot. This extraordinary sagacity often tells the hunter whether itis worth his while to follow the game he has shot at; but in any case heis likely to arrive late, if the wolves set out before him, as a dozenof them will devour the largest deer in a few minutes' time. Theprairie wolves as well as the others follow the herds of buffaloes, andattack the gravid cows and calves when separated from the rest. Frequently they sustain a contest with the bulls, when the latter areold or wounded, but on such occasions many of them get killed before theold bull becomes their prey. 

They resemble the common grey wolf in colour, but there are varieties inthis respect, though not so great as among the larger species. Theirvoice is entirely different, and consists of three distinct barks, ending in a prolonged howl. Hence the specific and usual name"barking-wolf" (_Canis latrans_). They are found only in the Western orprairie half of the continent, and thence west to the Pacific. TheirNorthern range is limited to the fifty-fifth parallel of latitude--butthey are met with southward throughout Mexico, where they are commonenough, and known by the name of "coyote. "

Their skins are an article of trade with the Hudson's Bay Company. Thefur is of about the same quality with that of other wolves, and consistsof long hairs, with a thick wool at the base. In commerce they aretermed "cased wolves, " because their skins, on being removed, are notsplit open as with the large wolf-skins, but are stript off after themanner of rabbits, and then turned inside out, or "cased, " as it istermed. 

So much for the _Canis latrans_. 

"Prairie wolves!" said Basil, in answer to the question put by hiscousin. 

"There must be something the matter with one of the bucks, then, "remarked Norman, "or else there's a good big pack of the wolves, andthey expect to tire one down. I believe they sometimes do try it thatway. "

"There appears to be a large pack, " answered Basil, still lookingthrough the glass; "fifty at least--See! they have separated one of thebucks from the herd--it's running this way!"

Basil's companions had noticed this as soon as himself, and all four nowleaped to their guns. The wapiti was plainly coming towards them, andthey could now distinguish the wolves following upon his heels, strungout over the prairie like a pack of hounds. When first started, thebuck was a full half-mile distant, but in less than a minute's time hecame breasting forward until the boys could see his sparkling eyes andthe play of his proud flanks. He was a noble animal to look at. Hishorns were full-grown, but still "in the velvet, " and as he ran with hissnout thrown forward, his antlers lay along both sides of his neck untiltheir tips touched his shoulders. He continued on in a direct lineuntil he was within less than an hundred paces of the camp; but, perceiving the smoke of the fire, and the figures crouching around it, he swerved suddenly from his course, and darted into the thicket ofwillows, where he was for the moment hidden from view. The wolves--fifty of them at least--had followed him up to this point; and as heentered the thicket several had been close upon his heels. The boysexpected to see the wolves rush in after him--as there appeared to be noimpediment to their doing so--but, to the astonishment of all, thelatter came to a sudden halt, and then went sneaking back--some of themeven running off as if terrified! At first the hunters attributed thisstrange conduct to their own presence, and the smoke of the camp; but amoment's reflection convinced them that this could not be the reason ofit, as they were all well acquainted with the nature of the prairiewolf, and had never witnessed a similar exhibition before. 

They had no time to think of the wolves just then. The buck was themain attraction, and, calling to each other to surround the thicket, allfour started in different directions. In a couple of minutes they hadplaced themselves at nearly equal distances around the copse, and stoodwatching eagerly for the reappearance of the wapiti. 

The willows covered about an acre of ground, but they were tolerablythick and full-leaved, and the buck could not be seen from any side. Wherever he was, he was evidently at a standstill, for not a rustlecould be heard among the leaves, nor were any of the tall stalks seen tomove. 

Marengo was now sent in. This would soon start him, and all four stoodwith guns cocked and ready. But before the dog had made three lengthsof himself into the thicket, a loud snort was heard, followed by astruggle and the stamping of hoofs, and the next moment the wapiti camecrashing through the bushes. A shot was fired--it was the crack ofLucien's small rifle--but it had missed, for the buck was seen passingonward and outward. All ran round to the side he had taken, and had afull view of the animal as he bounded off. Instead of running free asbefore, he now leaped heavily forward, and what was their astonishmenton seeing that he _carried another animal upon his back_!

The hunters could hardly believe their eyes, but there it was, sureenough, a brown shaggy mass, lying flat along the shoulders of thewapiti, and clutching it with large-spreading claws. Francois criedout, "A panther!" and Basil at first believed it to be a bear, but itwas hardly large enough for that. Norman, however, who had lived morein those parts where the animal is found, knew it at once to be thedreaded "wolverene. " Its head could not be seen, as that was hid behindthe shoulder of the wapiti, whose throat it was engaged in tearing. Butits short legs and broad paws, its busily tail and long shaggy hair, together with its round-arching back and dark-brown colour, were allfamiliar marks to the young fur-trader; and he at once pronounced it a"wolverene. "

When first seen, both it and the wapiti were beyond the reach of theirrifles; and the hunters, surprised by such an unexpected apparition, hadsuddenly halted. Francois and Basil were about to renew the pursuit, but were prevented by Norman who counselled them to remain where theywere. 

"They won't go far, " said he; "let us watch them a bit. See! the bucktakes the water!"

The wapiti, on leaving the willows, had run straight out in the firstdirection that offered, which happened to be in a line parallel with theedge of the lake. His eye, however, soon caught sight of the water, and, doubling suddenly round, he made directly towards it, evidentlywith the intention of plunging in. He had hopes, no doubt, that by thismeans he might rid himself of the terrible creature that was clinging tohis shoulders, and tearing his throat to pieces. 

A few bounds brought him to the shore. There was no beach at the spot. The bank--a limestone bluff--rose steeply from the water's edge to aheight of eight feet, and the lake under it was several fathoms indepth. The buck did not hesitate, but sprang outward and downwards. Aheavy plash followed, and for some seconds both wapiti and wolverenewere lost under the water. They rose to the surface, just as the boysreached the bank, but they came up _separately_. The dip had proved acooler to the fierce wolverene; and while the wapiti was seen to strikeboldly out into the lake and swim off, the latter--evidently out of hiselement--kept plunging about clumsily, and struggling to get back to theshore. Their position upon the cliff above gave the hunters anexcellent opportunity with their rifles, and both Basil and Norman senttheir bullets into the wolverene's back. Francois also emptied hisdouble-barrelled gun at the same object, and the shaggy brute sank deadto the bottom of the lake. Strange to say, not one of the party hadthought of firing at the buck. This persecution by so many enemies hadwon for him their sympathy, and they would now have suffered him to gofree, but the prospect of fresh venison for supper overcame theircommiseration, and the moment the wolverene was despatched all set aboutsecuring the deer. Their guns were reloaded, and, scattering along theshore, they prepared to await his return. But the buck, seeing therewas nothing but death in his rear, swam on, keeping almost in a directline out into the lake. It was evident to all that he could not swimacross the lake, as its farther shore was not even visible. He musteither return to where they were, or drown; and knowing this to be hisonly alternative, they stood still and watched his motions. When he hadgot about half-a-mile from the shore, to the surprise of all, he wasseen to rise higher and higher above the surface, and then all at oncestop, with half of his body clear out of the water! He had come upon ashoal, and, knowing the advantage of it, seemed determined to remainthere. 

Basil and Norman ran to the canoe, and in a few minutes the little craftwas launched, and shooting through the water. The buck now saw that itwas likely to be all up with him, and, instead of attempting to swimfarther, he faced round and set his antlers forward in a threateningattitude. But his pursuers did not give him the chance to make a rush. When within fifty yards or so, Norman, who used the paddles, stopped andsteadied the canoe, and the next moment the crack of Basil's rifleechoed over the lake, and the wapiti fell upon the water, where, afterstruggling a moment, he lay dead. 

The canoe was paddled up, and his antlers being made fast to the stern, he was towed back to the shore, and carried into camp. What nowsurprised our voyageurs was, their finding that the wapiti had beenwounded before encountering either the wolves, wolverene, or themselves. An arrow-head, with a short piece of the shaft, was sticking in one ofhis thighs. The Indians, then, had been after him, and very lately too, as the wound showed. It was not a mortal wound, had the arrow-head beenremoved; but of course, as it was, it would have proved his death in thelong run. This explained why the wolves had assailed an animal, thatotherwise, from his great size and strength, would have defied them. The wolverene, moreover, rarely attacks game so large as the wapiti; butthe latter had, no doubt, chanced upon the lair of his fierce enemy, whocould not resist such a tempting opportunity of getting a meal. Thewolves had seen the wolverene as they approached the thicket, and thataccounted for their strange behaviour in the pursuit. These creaturesare as great cowards as they are tyrants, and their dread of a wolvereneis equal to that with which they themselves often inspire the woundeddeer. 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN. 

A PAIR OF DEEP DIVERS. 

The wapiti was carefully skinned, and the skin spread out to dry. Sincetheir mishap our voyageurs had been very short of clothing. The threeskins of the woodland caribou had made only a pair of jackets, insteadof full hunting-shirts, and even these were pinched fits. For beds andbed-clothes they had nothing but the hides of buffaloes, and these, although good as far as they went, were only enough for two. Lucien, the most delicate of the party, appropriated one, as the others insistedupon his so doing. Francois had the other. As for Basil and Norman, they were forced each night to lie upon the naked earth, and but for thelarge fires which they kept blazing all the night, they would havesuffered severely from cold. Indeed, they did suffer quite enough; forsome of the nights were so cold, that it was impossible to sleep by thelargest fire without one-half of their bodies feeling chilled. Theusual practice with travellers in the Far West is to lie with their feetto the fire, while the head is at the greatest distance from it. Thisis considered the best mode, for so long as the feet are warm, the restof the body will not suffer badly; but, on the contrary, if the feet areallowed to get cold, no matter what state the other parts be in, it isimpossible to sleep with comfort. Of course our young voyageursfollowed the well-known practice of the country, and lay with their feetto the fire in such a manner that, when all were placed, their bodiesformed four radii of a circle, of which the fire was the centre. Marengo usually lay beside Basil, whom he looked upon as his propermaster. 

Notwithstanding a bed of grass and leaves which they each night spreadfor themselves, they were sadly in want of blankets, and therefore theskin of the wapiti, which was a very fine one, would be a welcomeaddition to their stock of bedding. They resolved, therefore, to remainone day where they had killed it, so that the skin might be dried andreceive a partial dressing. Moreover, they intended to "jerk" some ofthe meat--although elk-venison is not considered very palatable whereother meat can be had. It is without juice, and resembles dryshort-grained beef more than venison. For this reason it is looked uponby both Indians and white hunters as inferior to buffalo, moose, caribou, or even the common deer. One peculiarity of the flesh of thisanimal is, that the fat becomes hard the moment it is taken off thefire. It freezes upon the lips like suet, and clings around the teethof a person eating it, which is not the case with that of other speciesof deer. The skin of the wapiti, however, is held in high esteem amongthe Indians. It is thinner than that of the moose, but makes a muchbetter article of leather. When dressed in the Indian fashion--that isto say, soaked in a lather composed of the brains and fat of the animalitself, and then washed, dried, scraped, and smoked--it becomes as softand pliable as a kid-glove, and will wash and dry without stiffeninglike chamois leather. That is a great advantage which it has, in theeyes of the Indians, over the skins of other species of deer, as themoose and caribou--for the leather made from these, after a wetting, becomes harsh and rigid and requires a great deal of rubbing to renderit soft again. 

Lucien knew how to dress the elk-hide, and could make leather out of itas well as any Indian squaw in the country. But travelling as theywere, there was not a good opportunity for that; so they were content togive it such a dressing as the circumstances might allow. It was spreadout on a frame of willow-poles, and set up in front of the fire, to bescraped at intervals and cleared of the fatty matter, as well as thenumerous parasites that at this season adhere to the skins of thewapiti. 

While Lucien was framing the skin, Basil and Norman occupied themselvesin cutting the choice pieces of the meat into thin slices and hangingthem up before the fire. This job being finished, all sat down to watchLucien currying his hide. 

"Ho, boys!" cried Francois, starting up as if something had occurred tohim; "what about the wolverene? It's a splendid skin--why not get ittoo?"

"True enough, " replied Norman, "we had forgotten that. But the beastsgone to the bottom--how can we get at him?"

"Why, fish him up, to be sure, " said Francois. "Let's splice one ofthese willow-poles to my ramrod, and I'll screw it into him, and drawhim to the surface in a jiffy. Come!"

"We must get the canoe round, then, " said Norman. "The bank's too steepfor us to reach him without it. "

"Of course, " assented Francois, at the same time going towards thewillows; "get you the canoe into the water, while I cut the sapling. "

"Stay!" cried Basil, "I'll show you a shorter method. Marengo!"

As Basil said this, he rose to his feet, and walked down to the bluffwhere they had shot the wolverene. All of them followed him as well asMarengo, who bounded triumphantly from side to side, knowing he waswanted for some important enterprise. 

"Do you expect the dog to fetch him out?" inquired Norman. 

"No, " replied Basil; "only to help. "

"How?"

"Wait a moment--you shall see. "

Basil flung down his 'coon-skin cap, and stripped off his cariboujacket, then his striped cotton shirt, then his under-shirt of fawnskin, and, lastly, his trousers, leggings, and mocassins. He was now asnaked as Adam. 

"I'll show you, cousin, " said he, addressing himself to Norman, "how wetake the water down there on the Mississippi. "

So saying, he stepped forward to the edge of the bluff; and havingcarefully noted the spot where the wolverene had gone down, turned tothe dog, and simply said--

"Ho! Marengo! _Chez moi_!" The dog answered with a whimper, and alook of intelligence which showed that he understood his master's wish. 

Basil again pointed to the lake, raised his arms over his head, placinghis palms close together, launched himself out into the air, and shotdown head-foremost into the water. 

Marengo, uttering a loud bay, sprang after so quickly that the plungeswere almost simultaneous, and both master and dog were for some timehidden from view. The latter rose first, but it was a long time beforeBasil came to the surface--so long that Norman and the others werebeginning to feel uneasy, and to regard the water with some anxiety. Atlength, however, a spot was seen to bubble, several yards from where hehad gone down, and the black head of Basil appeared above the surface. It was seen that he held something in his teeth, and was pushing a heavybody before him, which they saw was the wolverene. 

Marengo, who swam near, now seized hold of the object, and pulled itaway from his master, who, calling to the dog to follow, struck outtowards a point where the bank was low and shelving. In a few minutesBasil reached a landing-place, and shortly after Marengo arrived towingthe wolverene, which was speedily pulled out upon the bank, and carried, or rather dragged, by Norman and Francois to the camp. Lucien broughtBasil's clothes, and all four once more assembled around the blazingfire. 

There is not a more hideous-looking animal in America than thewolverene. His thick body and short stout legs, his shaggy coat andbushy tail, but, above all, his long curving claws and doglike jaws, give him a formidable appearance. His gait is low and skulking, and hislook bold and vicious. He walks somewhat like a bear, and his tracksare often mistaken for those of that animal. Indians and hunters, however, know the difference well. His hind-feet are plantigrade, thatis, they rest upon the ground from heel to toe; and his back curves likethe segment of a circle. He is fierce and extremely voracious--quite asmuch so as the "glutton, " of which he is the American representative. No animal is more destructive to the small game, and he will also attackand devour the larger kinds when he can get hold of them; but as he issomewhat slow, he can only seize most of them by stratagem. It is acommon belief that he lies in wait upon trees and rocks to seize thedeer passing beneath. It has been also asserted that he places moss, such as these animals feed upon, under his perch, in order to enticethem within reach; and it has been still further asserted, that thearctic foxes assist him in his plans, by hunting the deer towards thespot where he lies in wait, thus acting as his jackals. Theseassertions have been made more particularly about his European cousin, the "glutton, " about whom other stories are told equally strange--one ofthem, that he eats until scarce able to walk, and then draws his bodythrough a narrow space between two trees, in order to relieve himselfand get ready for a fresh meal. Buffon and others have given credenceto these tales upon the authority of one "Olaus Magnus, " whose name, from the circumstance, might be translated "great fibber. " There is nodoubt, however, that the glutton is one of the most sagacious ofanimals, and so, too, is the wolverene. The latter gives proof of thisby many of his habits; one in particular fully illustrates his cunning. It is this. The marten-trappers of the Hudson Bay territory set theirtraps in the snow, often extending over a line of fifty miles. Thesetraps are constructed out of pieces of wood found near the spot, and arebaited with the heads of partridges, or pieces of venison, of which themarten (_Mustela martes_) is very fond. As soon as the marten seizesthe bait, a trigger is touched, and a heavy piece of wood falling uponthe animal, crushes or holds it fast. Now the wolverene _enters thetrap from behind_, tears the back out of it before touching the bait, and thus avoids the falling log! Moreover, he will follow the tracks ofthe trapper from one to another, until he has destroyed the whole line. Should a marten happen to have been before him, and got caught in thetrap, he rarely ever eats it, as he is not fond of its flesh. But he isnot satisfied to leave it as he finds it. He usually digs it from underthe log, tears it to pieces, and then buries it under the snow. Thefoxes, who are well aware of this habit, and who themselves greedily eatthe marten, are frequently seen following him upon such excursions. They are not strong enough to take the log from off the trapped animal, but from their keen scent can soon find it where the other has buried itin the snow. In this way, instead of their being providers for thewolverene, the reverse is the true story. Notwithstanding, thewolverene will eat _them_ too, whenever he can get his claws upon them;but as they are much swifter than he, this seldom happens. The foxes, however, are themselves taken in traps, or more commonly shot by gunsset for the purpose, with the bait attached by a string to the trigger. Often the wolverene, finding the foxes dead or wounded, makes a meal ofthem before the hunter comes along to examine his traps and guns. Thewolverene kills many of the foxes while young, and sometimes on findingtheir burrow, widens it with his strong claws, and eats the whole familyin their nests. Even young wolves sometimes become his prey. He lives, in fact, on very bad terms with both foxes and wolves, and often robsthe latter of a fat deer which they may have just killed, and arepreparing to dine upon. The beaver, however, is his favourite food, andbut that these creatures can escape him by taking to the water--in whichelement he is not at all at home--he would soon exterminate their wholerace. His great strength and acute scent enable him to overcome almostevery wild creature of the forest or prairie. He is even said to be afull match for either the panther or the black bear. 

The wolverene lives in clefts of rock, or in hollow trees, where suchare to be found; but he is equally an inhabitant of the forest and theprairie. He is found in fertile districts, as well as in the mostremote deserts. His range is extensive, but he is properly a denizen ofthe cold and snowy regions. In the southern parts of the United Stateshe is no longer known, though it is certain that he once lived therewhen those countries were inhabited by the beaver. North of latitude 40degrees he ranges perhaps to the pole itself, as traces of him have beenfound as far as man has yet penetrated. He is a solitary creature, and, like most predatory animals, a nocturnal prowler. The female bringsforth two, sometimes three and four, at a birth. The cubs are of acream colour, and only when full-grown acquire that dark-brown hue, which in the extreme of winter often passes into black. The fur is notunlike that of the bear, but is shorter-haired, and of less value than abear-skin. Notwithstanding, it is an article of trade with the Hudson'sBay Company, who procure many thousands of the skins annually. 

The Canadian voyageurs call the wolverene "carcajou;" while among theOrkney and Scotch servants of the Hudson's Bay Company he is oftenerknown as the "quickhatch. " It is supposed that both these names arecorruptions of the Cree word _okee-coo-haw-gew_ (the name of thewolverene among the Indians of that tribe). Many words from the samelanguage have been adopted by both voyageurs and traders. 

Those points in the natural history of the wolverene, that might becalled _scientific_, were imparted by Lucien, while Norman furnished theinformation about its habits. Norman knew the animal as one of the mostcommon in the "trade"; and in addition to what we have recorded, alsorelated many adventures and stories current among the voyageurs, inwhich this creature figures in quite as fanciful a manner, as he does inthe works either of Olaus Magnus, or Count de Buffon. 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN. 

A GRAND SUNDAY DINNER. 

After remaining a day at their first camp on the lake, our voyageurscontinued their journey. Their course lay a little to the west ofnorth, as the edge of the lake trended in that direction. Their usualplan, as already stated, was to keep out in the lake far enough to shunthe numerous indentations of the shore, yet not so far as to endangertheir little craft when the wind was high. At night they always landed, either upon some point or on an island. Sometimes the wind blew "deadahead, " and then their day's journey would be only a few miles. Whenthe wind was favourable they made good progress, using the skin of thewapiti for a sail. On one of these days they reckoned a distance ofover forty miles from camp to camp. It was their custom always to lieby on Sunday, for our young voyageurs were Christians. They had done soon their former expedition across the Southern prairies, and they hadfound the practice to their advantage in a physical as well as a moralsense. They required the rest thus obtained; besides, a generalcleaning up is necessary, at least, once every week. Sunday was also aday of feasting with them. They had more time to devote to culinaryoperations, and the _cuisine_ of that day was always the most varied ofthe week. Any extra delicacy obtained by the rifle on previous days, was usually reserved for the Sunday's dinner. On the first Sunday afterentering Lake Winnipeg the "camp" chanced to be upon an island. It wasa small island, of only a few acres in extent. It lay near the shore, and was well wooded over its whole surface with trees of many differentkinds. Indeed, islands in a large lake usually have a great variety oftrees, as the seeds of all those sorts that grow around the shores arecarried thither by the waves, or in the crops of the numerous birds thatflit over its waters. But as the island in question lay in a lake, whose shores exhibited such a varied geology, it was natural thevegetation of the island itself should be varied. And, in truth; it wasso. There were upon it, down by the water's edge, willows andcottonwoods (_Populus angulata_), the characteristic _sylva_ of theprairie land; there were birches and sugar-maples (_Acer saccharinum_);and upon some higher ground, near the centre, appeared several speciesthat belonged more to the primitive formations that bounded the lake onthe east. These were pines and spruces, the juniper, and tamarack orAmerican larch (_Laryx Americana_); and among others could bedistinguished the dark cone-shaped forms of the red cedar-trees. Amongthe low bushes and shrubs there were rose and wild raspberry; there wereapple and plum trees, and whole thickets of the "Pembina" (_Viburnumoxycoccos_). There is, in fact, no part of the world where a greatervariety of wild fruit has been found indigenous than upon the banks ofthe Red River of the North, and this variety extended to the littleisland where our voyageurs had encamped. 

The camp had been placed under a beautiful tree--the tacamahac, orbalsam poplar (_Populus balsamifera_). This is one of the finest treesof America, and one of those that extend farthest north into the coldcountries. In favourable situations it attains a height of one hundredand fifty feet, with a proportionate thickness of trunk; but it isoftener only fifty or eighty feet high. Its leaves are oval, and, whenyoung, of a rich yellowish colour, which changes to a bright green. Thebuds are very large, yellow, and covered with a varnish, which exhales adelightful fragrance, and gives to the tree its specific name. 

It was near sunset on the afternoon of Saturday; the travellers had justfinished their repast, and were reclining around a fire of red cedar, whose delicate smoke curled up among the pale-green leaves of thepoplars. The fragrant smell of the burning wood, mixed with thearomatic odour of the balsam-tree, filled the air with a sweet perfume, and, almost without knowing why, our voyageurs felt a sense of pleasurestealing over them. The woods of the little island were not withouttheir voices. The scream of the jay was heard, and his bright azurewing appeared now and then among the foliage. The scarlet plumage ofthe cardinal grosbeak flashed under the beams of the setting sun; andthe trumpet-note of the ivory-billed woodpecker was heard near thecentre of the island. An osprey was circling in the air, with his eyebent on the water below, watching for his finny prey; and a pair of baldeagles (_Haliaetus leucocephalus_) were winging their way towards theadjacent mainland. Half-a-dozen turkey vultures (_Cathartes atratus_)were wheeling above the beach, where some object, fish or carrion, hadbeen thrown up by the waves. 

For some time the party remained silent, each contemplating the scenewith feelings of pleasure. Francois, as usual, first broke the silence. 

"I say, cook, what's for dinner to-morrow?"

It was to Lucien this speech was addressed. He was regarded as the_maitre de cuisine_. 

"Roast or boiled--which would you prefer?" asked the cook, with asignificant smile. 

"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed Francois; "boiled, indeed! a pretty boil we couldhave in a tin cup, holding less than a pint. I wish we _could_ have aboiled joint and a bowl of soup. I'd give something for it. I'mprecious tired of this everlasting dry roast. "

"You shall have both, " rejoined Lucien, "for to-morrow's dinner. Ipromise you both the soup and the joint. "

Again Francois laughed incredulously. 

"Do you mean to make soup in your shoe, Luce?"

"No; but I shall make it in this. "

And Lucien held up a vessel somewhat like a water-pail, which the daybefore he had himself made out of birch-bark. 

"Well, " replied Francois, "I know you have got a vessel that holdswater, but cold water ain't soup; and if you can boil water in thatvessel, I'll believe you to be a conjuror. I know you can do somecurious things with your chemical mixtures; but that you can't do, I'msure. Why, man, the bottom would be burned out of your bucket beforethe water got blood-warm. Soup, indeed!"

"Never mind, Frank, you shall see. You're only like the rest ofmankind--incredulous about everything they can't comprehend. If you'lltake your hook and line, and catch some fish, I promise to give you adinner to-morrow, with all the regular courses--soup, fish, boiled, roast, and dessert, too! I'm satisfied I can do all that. "

"_Parbleu_! brother, you should have been cook to Lucullus. Well, I'llcatch the fish for you. "

So saying, Francois took a fish-hook and line out of his pouch, andfixing a large grasshopper upon the hook, stepped forward to the edge ofthe water, and cast it in. The float was soon seen to bob and thensink, and Francois jerked his hook ashore with a small and very prettyfish upon it of a silver hue, with which the lake and the waters runninginto it abound. Lucien told him it was a fish of the genus _Hyodon_. He also advised him to bait with a worm, and let his bait sink to thebottom, and he might catch a sturgeon, which would be a larger fish. 

"How do you know there are sturgeon in the lake?" inquired Francois. 

"I am pretty sure of that, " answered the naturalist; "the sturgeon(_Acipenser_) is found all round the world in the northern temperatezone--both in its seas and fresh waters; although, when you go farthersouth into the warmer climate, no sturgeons exist. I am sure there aresome here, perhaps more than one species. Sink your bait, for thesturgeon is a toothless fish, and feeds upon soft substances at thebottom. "

Francois followed the advice of his brother, and in a few minutes he hada "nibble, " and drew up and landed a very large fish, full three feet inlength. Lucien at once pronounced it a sturgeon, but of a species hehad not before seen. It was the _Acipenser carbonarius_, a curious sortof fish found in these waters. It did not look like a fish that wouldbe pleasant eating; therefore Francois again took to bobbing for thesilver fish (_Hyodons_), which, though small, he knew to be excellentwhen broiled. 

"Come, " said Basil, "I must furnish my quota to this famous dinner thatis to be. Let me see what there is on the island in the way of game;"and shouldering his rifle, he walked off among the trees. 

"And I, " said Norman, "am not going to eat the produce of other people'slabour without contributing my share. "

So the young trader took up his gun and went off in a differentdirection. 

"Good!" exclaimed Lucien, "we are likely to have plenty of meat for thedinner. I must see about the vegetables;" and taking with him hisnew-made vessel, Lucien sauntered off along the shore of the islet. Francois alone remained by the camp, and continued his fishing. Let usfollow the plant-hunter, and learn a lesson of practical botany. 

Lucien had not gone far, when he came to what appeared to be a meresedge growing in the water. The stalks or culms of this sedge were fulleight feet high, with smooth leaves, an inch broad, nearly a yard inlength, and of a light green colour. At the top of each stalk was alarge panicle of seeds, somewhat resembling a head of oats. The plantitself was the famous wild rice (_Zizania aquatica_), so much prized bythe Indians as an article of food, and also the favourite of many wildbirds, especially the reed-bird or rice-bunting. The grain of thezizania was not yet ripe, but the ears were tolerably well filled, andLucien saw that it would do for his purpose. He therefore waded in, andstripped off into his vessel as much as he wanted. 

"I am safe for rice-soup, at all events, " soliloquised he, "but I thinkI can do still better;" and he continued on around the shore, andshortly after struck into some heavy timber that grew in a damp, richsoil. He had walked about an hundred yards farther, when he was seen tostoop and examine some object on the ground. 

"It ought to be found here, " he muttered to himself; "this is the verysoil for it, --yes, here we have it!"

The object over which he was stooping was a plant, but its leavesappeared shrivelled, or rather quite withered away. The upper part of abulbous root, however, was just visible above the surface. It was abulb of the wild leek (_Allium tricoccum_. ) The leaves, when young, areabout six inches in length, of a flat shape and often three inchesbroad; but, strange to say, they shrivel or die off very early in theseason, --even before the plant flowers, and then it is difficult to findthe bulb. 

Lucien, however, had sharp eyes for such things; and in a short while hehad rooted out several bulbs as large as pigeons' eggs, and depositedthem in his birchen vessel. He now turned to go back to camp, satisfiedwith what he had obtained. He had the rice to give consistency to hissoup, and the leek-roots to flavour it with. That would be enough. 

As he was walking over a piece of boggy ground his eye was attracted toa singular plant, whose tall stem rose high above the grass. It wasfull eight feet in height, and at its top there was an umbel ofconspicuous white flowers. Its leaves were large, lobed, and toothed, and the stem itself was over an inch in diameter, with furrows runninglongitudinally. Lucien had never seen the plant before, although he hadoften heard accounts of it, and he at once recognised it from itsbotanical description. It was the celebrated "cow parsnip" (_Heracleumlanatum_). Its stem was jointed and hollow, and Lucien had heard thatthe Indians called it in their language "flute-stem, " as they often usedit to make their rude musical instruments from, and also a sort ofwhistle or "call, " by which they were enabled to imitate and decoyseveral kinds of deer. But there was another use to which the plant wasput, of which the naturalist was not aware. Norman, who had beenwandering about, came up at this moment, and seeing Lucien standing bythe plant, uttered a joyful "Hulloh!"

"Well, " inquired Lucien, "what pleases you, coz?"

"Why, the flute-stem, of course. You talked of making a soup. It willhelp you, I fancy. "

"How?" demanded Lucien. 

"Why, the young stems are good eating, and the roots, if you will; butthe young shoots are better. Both Indians and voyageurs eat them insoup, and are fond of them. It's a famous thing, I assure you. "

"Let us gather some, then, " said Lucien; and the cousins commencedcutting off such stems as were still young and tender. As soon as theyhad obtained enough, they took their way back to the camp. Basil hadalready arrived with a fine _prairie hen (Tetrao cupido_) which he hadshot, and Norman had brought back a squirrel; so that, with Francois'sfish, of which a sufficient number had been caught, Lucien was likely tobe able to keep his promise about the dinner. 

Francois, however, could not yet comprehend how the soup was to beboiled in a wooden pot; and, indeed, Basil was unable to guess. Norman, however, knew well enough, for he had travelled through the country ofthe Assinoboil Indians, who take their name from this very thing. Hehad also witnessed the operation performed by Crees, Chippewas, and evenvoyageurs, where metal or earthen pots could not be obtained. 

On the next day the mystery was cleared up to Basil and Francois. Lucien first collected a number of stones--about as large aspaving-stones. He chose such as were hard and smooth. These he flunginto the cinders, where they soon became red-hot. The water and meatwere now put into the bark pot, and then one stone after another, --eachbeing taken out as it got cooled, --until the water came to a fierceboil. The rice and other ingredients were added at the proper time, andin a short while an excellent soup was made. So much, then, for thesoup, and the boiled dishes with vegetables. The roast, of course, waseasily made ready upon green-wood spits, and the "game" was cooked in asimilar way. The fish were broiled upon the red cinders, and eaten, asis usual, after the soup. There were no puddings or pies, though, nodoubt, Lucien could have made such had they been wanted. In their placethere was an excellent service of fruit. There were strawberries andraspberries, one sort of which found wild in this region is of a mostdelicious flavour. There were gooseberries and currants; but the mostdelicious fruit, and that which Francois liked best, was a small berryof a dark blue colour, not unlike the huckleberry, but much sweeter andof higher flavour. It grows on a low bush or shrub with ovate leaves;and this bush when it blossoms is so covered with beautiful whiteflowers, that neither leaves nor branches can be seen. There are noless than four varieties of it known, two of which attain to the heightof twenty feet or more. The French Canadians call it "le poire, " but inmost parts of America it is known as the "service-berry, " althoughseveral other names are given to it in different districts. Lucieninformed his companions, while they were crushing its sweet purplishfruit between their teeth, that its botanical name is _Amelanchier_. 

"Now, " remarked Francois, "if we only had a cup of coffee and a glass ofwine, we might say that we had dined in fashionable style. "

"I think, " replied Lucien, "we are better without the wine, and as forthe other I cannot give you that, but I fancy I can provide you with acup of tea if you only allow me a little time. "

"Tea!" screamed Francois; "why, there's not a leaf of tea nearer thanChina; and for the sugar, not a grain within hundreds of miles!"

"Come, Frank, " said Lucien, "nature has not been so ungenerous here, --even in such luxuries as tea and sugar. Look yonder! You see thoselarge trees with the dark-coloured trunks. What are they?"

"Sugar-maples, " replied Francois. 

"Well, " said Lucien, "I think even at this late season we might contriveto extract sap enough from them to sweeten a cup of tea. You may try, while I go in search of the tea-plant. "

"Upon my word, Luce, you are equal to a wholesale grocery. Very well. Come, Basil, we'll tap the maples; let the captain go with Luce. "

The boys, separating into pairs, walked off in different directions. Lucien and his companion soon lighted upon the object of their search inthe same wet bottom where they had procured the _Heracleum_. It was abranching shrub, not over two feet in height, with small leaves of adeep green colour above, but whitish and woolly underneath. It is aplant well-known throughout most of the Hudson's Bay territory by thename of "Labrador tea-plant;" and is so called because the Canadianvoyageurs, and other travellers through these northern districts, oftendrink it as tea. It is one of the _Ericaceae_, or heath tribe, of thegenus _Ledum_--though it is not a true heath, as, strange to say, notrue heath is found upon the continent of America. 

There are two kinds of it known, --the "narrow-leafed" and"broad-leafed;" and the former makes the best tea. But the pretty whiteflowers of the plant are better for the purpose than the leaves ofeither variety; and these it was that were now gathered by Lucien andNorman. They require to be dried before the decoction is made; but thiscan be done in a short time over a fire; and so in a short time it wasdone, Norman having parched them upon heated stones. Meanwhile Basiland Francois had obtained the sugar-water, and Lucien having washed hissoup-kettle clean, and once more made his boiling stones red-hot, prepared the beverage; and then it was served out in the tin cup, andall partook of it. Norman had drunk the Labrador tea before, and wasrather fond of it, but his Southern cousins did not much relish it. Itspeculiar flavour, which somewhat resembles rhubarb, was not at all tothe liking of Francois. All, however, admitted that it produced acheering effect upon their spirits; and, after drinking it, they felt inthat peculiarly happy state of mind which one experiences after a cup ofthe real "Bohea. "

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN. 

THE MARMOTS OF AMERICA. 

From such a luxurious dinner you may suppose that our young voyageurslived in prime style. But it was not always so. They had their fastsas well as feasts. Sometimes for days they had nothing to eat but thejerked deer-meat. No bread--no beer--no coffee, nothing but water--dryvenison and water. Of course, this is food enough for a hungry man; butit can hardly be called luxurious living. Now and then a wild duck, ora goose, or perhaps a young swan, was shot; and this change in theirdiet was very agreeable. Fish were caught only upon occasions, foroften these capricious creatures refused Francois' bait, howevertemptingly offered. After three weeks' coasting the Lake, they reachedthe Saskatchewan, and turning up that stream, now travelled in a duewesterly direction. At the Grand Rapids, near the mouth of this river, they were obliged to make a portage of no less than three miles, but themagnificent view of these "Rapids" fully repaid them for the toil theyunderwent in passing them. 

The Saskatchewan is one of the largest rivers in America, being full1600 miles in length, from its source in the Rocky Mountains to its_debouchure_, under the name of the "Nelson River, " in Hudson's Bay. For some distance above Lake Winnipeg, the country upon its banks iswell wooded. Farther up, the river runs through dry sandy prairies thatextend westward to the foot-hills of the Rocky Mountains. Many of theseprairies may be properly called "deserts. " They contain lakes as saltas the ocean itself, and vast tracts--hundreds of square miles inextent--where not a drop of water is to be met with. But the route ofour voyageurs did not lie over these prairies. It was their intention, after reaching Cumberland House, to turn again in a northerly direction. 

One evening, when within two days' journey of the Fort, they hadencamped upon the bank of the Saskatchewan. They had chosen a beautifulspot for their camp, where the country, swelling into rounded hills, wasprettily interspersed with bushy copses of _Amelanchiers_, and _Rosablanda_, whose pale red flowers were conspicuous among the green leaves, and filled the air with a sweet fragrance, that was wafted to ourvoyageurs upon the sunny breeze. The ground was covered with a grassysward enamelled by the pink flowers of the _Cleome_, and the deeper redblossoms of the beautiful wind-flower (_Anemone_). Upon that day ourtravellers had not succeeded in killing any game, and their dinner waslikely to consist of nothing better than dry venison scorched over thecoals. As they had been travelling all the morning against a sharpcurrent, and, of course, had taken turn about at the paddles, they allfelt fatigued, and none of them was inclined to go in search of game. They had flung themselves down around the fire, and were waiting untilthe venison should be broiled for dinner. 

The camp had been placed at the foot of a tolerably steep hill, thatrose near the banks of the river. There was another and higher hillfacing it, the whole front of which could be seen by our travellers asthey sat around their fire. While glancing their eyes along itsdeclivity, they noticed a number of small protuberances or moundsstanding within a few feet of each other. Each of them was about a footin height, and of the form of a truncated cone--that is, a cone with itstop cut off, or beaten down. 

"What are they?" inquired Francois. 

"I fancy, " answered Lucien, "they are marmot-houses. "

"They are, " affirmed Norman; "there are plenty of them in this country. "

"Oh! marmots!" said Francois. "Prairie-dogs, you mean?--the same we metwith on the Southern prairies?"

"I think not, " replied Norman: "I think the prairie-dogs are a differentsort. Are they not, Cousin Luce?"

"Yes, yes, " answered the naturalist; "these must be a different species. There are too few of them to be the houses of prairie-dogs. The `dogs'live in large settlements, many hundreds of them in one place; besides, their domes are somewhat different in appearance from these. The moundsof the prairie-dogs have a hole in the top or on one side. These, yousee, have not. The hole is in the ground beside them, and the hill isin front, made by the earth taken out of the burrow, just as you haveseen it at the entrance of a rat's hole. They are marmots, I have nodoubt, but of a different species from the prairie-dog marmots. "

"Are there not many kinds of marmots in America? I have heard so, " saidFrancois. 

This question was of course addressed to Lucien. 

"Yes, " answered he. "The _fauna_ of North America is peculiarly rich inspecies of these singular animals. There are thirteen kinds of them, well-known to naturalists; and there are even some varieties in thesethirteen kinds that might almost be considered distinct species. I haveno doubt, moreover, there are yet other species which have not beendescribed. Perhaps, altogether, there are not less than twentydifferent kinds of marmots in North America. As only one or two speciesare found in the settled territories of the United States, it wassupposed, until lately, that there were no others. Latterly thenaturalists of North America have been very active in their researches, and no genus of animals has rewarded them so well as the marmots--unless, perhaps, it may be the squirrels. Almost every year a newspecies of one or the other of these has been found--mostly inhabitingthe vast wilderness territories that lie between the Mississippi and thePacific Ocean. 

"As regards the marmots, the _closet-naturalists_, as usual, haverendered their history as complicated and difficult to be understood aspossible. They have divided them into several genera, because one kindhappens to have a larger tubercle upon its tooth than another, or alittle more curving in its claws, or a shorter tail. It is true that inthe thirteen species some differ considerably from the others in size, colour, and other respects. Yet, for all that, there is such anidentity, if I may so express it, about the mode of life, the food, theappearance, and habits of all the thirteen, that I think it is bothabsurd and ill-judged to render the study of them more difficult, bythus dividing them into so many genera. They are all _marmots_, that iswhat they are; and why confound the study of them by calling themspermophiles and arctomys, and such-like hard names?"

"I quite agree with you, Luce, " said the hunter, Basil, who, althoughnot averse to the study of natural history (all hunters, I believe, loveit more or less), had no great opinion of the closet-naturalists and"babblers about teeth, " as he contemptuously called them. 

"When a family of animals, " continued Lucien, "contains a great manyspecies, and these species differ widely from each other, I admit thatit may then be convenient and useful to class them into genera, andsometimes even sub-genera; but, on the other hand, when there are only afew species, and these closely allied to each other, I think nothing canbe more ridiculous than this dividing and subdividing, and giving suchunpronounceable names to them. It is this that renders the studydifficult, because even the committing to memory such a string ofunmeaning phrases is of itself no easy task. Take, for example, such aphrase as `_Arctomys spermophilus Rickardsonii_, ' which, although nearlya yard long, means simply the `tawny marmot. ' Do not mistake me, "continued Lucien; "I do not object to the use of the Greek or Latinphraseology used in such cases. Some universal language must beadopted, so that the naturalists of different countries may understandeach other. But then this language should, when translated, describethe animal, by giving some of its characteristics, and thus have ameaning. On the contrary, it usually, when put into plain English, gives us only the name--often a clumsy and unpronounceable German one--of some obscure friend of the author, or, as is not unfrequently thecase, some lordly patron for whom your closet-naturalist entertains aflunkeyish regard, and avails himself of this means of making it knownto his Maecenas. In my opinion, " continued Lucien, warming with theenthusiasm of a true naturalist, "it is a most impertinent interferencewith the beautiful things of Nature--her birds and quadrupeds, herplants and flowers--to couple them with the names of kings, princes, lords, and lordlings, who chance to be the local gods of somecloset-naturalist. It is these catalogue-makers who generally multiplysynonymes so as to render science unintelligible. Sitting in theireasy-chairs they know little or nothing of the habits of the animalsabout which they write; and therefore, to write something original, theymultiply names, and give measurements _ad infinitum_, and this amongthem constitutes a science. I do not, of course, include among thesethe man whose name is given--Richardson. No; he was a true naturalist, who travelled and underwent hardships to earn the high name which hebears and so well deserves. "

"Brother Luce, " said Basil, "you grow excited upon this subject, andthat is something of a rarity to see. I agree with you, however, in allyou have said. Previous to our leaving home I read several booksupon natural history. They were the works of distinguishedcloset-naturalists. Well, I found that all the information theycontained about the animals of these Northern regions--at least, allthat could be called _information_--I had read somewhere before. Afterthinking for a while I recollected where. It was in the pages of thetraveller Hearne--a man who, among these scientific gentlemen, isconsidered only in the light of a rude traveller, and not deserving thename of naturalist. Hearne journeyed to the Arctic Sea so early as theyear 1771; and to him the world is indebted for their first knowledge ofthe fact that there was no strait across the Continent south of theseventieth parallel of latitude. "

"Yes, " said Lucien, "he was sent out by the Hudson's Bay Company, perhaps more scantily furnished than any explorer ever was before. Heunderwent the most dreadful hardships and perils, and has left behindhim an account of the inhabitants and natural history of these parts, sofull and so truthful, that it has not only stood the test of subsequentobservation, but the closet-naturalists have added but little to it eversince. Most of them have been satisfied with giving just what poorHearne had gathered--as, in fact, they knew nothing more, and could not, therefore, add anything. Some of them have quoted his own words, andgiven him the credit of his vast labour; while others have endeavouredto pass off Hearne's knowledge as their own, by giving a slightlyaltered paraphrase of his language. This sort of thing, " said Lucien, "makes me indignant. "

"It's downright mean, " interposed Norman. "All of us in this countryhave heard of Hearne. He was a right hardy traveller, and no mistakeabout it. "

"Well, then, " said Lucien, cooling down, and resuming the subject of themarmots, "these little animals seem to form a link between the squirrelsand rabbits. On the side of the squirrels they very naturally join on, if I may use the expression, to the ground-squirrel, and some of themdiffer but little in their habits from many of the latter. Otherspecies, again, are more allied to the rabbits, and less like thesquirrels; and there are two or three kinds that I should say--using aYankee expression--have a `sprinkling' of the rat in them. Some, as theground-hog, or wood-chuck of the United States, are as large as rabbits, while others, as the leopard-marmot, are not bigger than Norway rats. Some species have cheek-pouches, in which they can carry a largequantity of seeds, nuts, and roots, when they wish to hoard them up forfuture use. These are the spermophiles, and some species of these havemore capacious pouches than others. Their food differs somewhat, perhaps according to the circumstances in which they may be placed. Inall cases it is vegetable. Some, as the prairie-dogs, live upongrasses, while others subsist chiefly upon seeds, berries, and leaves. It was long supposed that the marmots, like the squirrels, laid upstores against the winter. I believe this is not the case with any ofthe different species. I know for certain that most of them pass thewinter in a state of torpidity, and of course require no provisions, asthey eat nothing during that season. In this we observe one of thosecases in which Nature so beautifully adapts a creature to itscircumstances. In the countries where many of the marmots are found, sosevere are the winters, and so barren the soil, that it would beimpossible for these creatures to get a morsel of food for many longmonths. During this period, therefore, Nature suspends her functions, by putting them into a deep, and, for aught we know to the contrary, apleasant sleep. It is only when the snow melts, under the vernal sun, and the green blades of grass and the spring flowers array themselves onthe surface of the earth, that the little marmots make their appearanceagain. Then the warm air, penetrating into their subterranean abodes, admonishes them to awake from their protracted slumber, and come forthto the enjoyment of their summer life. These animals may be said, therefore, to have no winter. Their life is altogether a season ofsummer and sunshine. 

"Some of the marmots, " continued Lucien, "live in large communities, asthe prairie-dogs; others, in smaller tribes, while still other specieslead a solitary life, going only in pairs, or at most in families. Nearly all of them are burrowing animals, though there are one or twospecies that are satisfied with a cleft in the rock, or a hole amongloose stones for their nests. Some of them are tree-climbers, but it issupposed they only ascend trees in search of food, as they do not maketheir dwellings there. Many of the species are very prolific, thefemales bringing forth eight, and even ten young at a birth. 

"The marmots are extremely shy and watchful creatures. Before going tofeed, they usually reconnoitre the ground from the tops of their littlemounds. Some species do not have such mounds, and for this purposeascend any little hillock that may be near. Nearly all have the curioushabit of placing sentries to watch while the rest are feeding. Thesesentries station themselves on some commanding point, and when they seean enemy approaching give warning to the others by a peculiar cry. Inseveral of the species this cry resembles the syllables `seek-seek'repeated with a hiss. Others bark like `toy-dogs, ' while still otherkinds utter a whistling noise, from which one species derives itstrivial name of `whistler' among the traders, and is the `siffleur' ofthe Canadian voyageurs. 

"The `whistler's' call of alarm can be heard at a great distance; andwhen uttered by the sentinel is repeated by all the others as far as thetroop extends. 

"The marmots are eaten both by Indians and white hunters. Sometimesthey are captured by pouring water into their burrows; but this methodonly succeeds in early spring, when the animals awake out of theirtorpid state, and the ground is still frozen hard enough to prevent thewater from filtering away. They are sometimes shot with guns; but, unless killed upon the spot, they will escape to their burrows, andtumble in before the hunter can lay his hands upon them. "

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN. 

THE BLAIREAU, THE "TAWNIES, " AND THE "LEOPARDS. "

Perhaps Lucien would have carried his account of the marmots stillfarther--for he had not told half what he knew of their habits--but hewas at that moment interrupted by the marmots themselves. Several ofthem appeared at the mouths of their holes; and, after looking out andreconnoitring for some moments, became bolder, and ran up to the tops oftheir mounds, and began to scatter along the little beaten paths thatled from one to the other. In a short while as many as a dozen could beseen moving about, jerking their tails, and at intervals uttering their"seek-seek. "

Our voyageurs saw that there were two kinds of them, entirely differentin colour, size, and other respects. The larger ones were of a greyishyellow above, with an orange tint upon the throat and belly. These werethe "tawny marmots, " called sometimes "ground-squirrels, " and by thevoyageurs, "siffleurs, " or "whistlers. " The other species seen were themost beautiful of all the marmots. They were very little smaller thanthe tawny marmots; but their tails were larger and more slender, whichrendered their appearance more graceful. Their chief beauty, however, lay in their colours and markings. They were striped from the nose tothe rump with bands of yellow and chocolate colour, which alternatedwith each other, while the chocolate bands were themselves variegated byrows of yellow spots regularly placed. These markings gave the animalsthat peculiar appearance so well-known as characterising the skin of theleopard, hence the name of these little creatures was "leopard-marmots. "

It was plain from their actions that both kinds were "at home" among themounds, and that both had their burrows there. This was the fact, andNorman told his companion that the two kinds are always found together, not living in the same houses, but only as neighbours in the same"settlement. " The burrows of the "leopard" have much smaller entrancesthan those of their "tawny kin, " and run down perpendicularly to agreater depth before branching off in a horizontal direction. Astraight stick may be thrust down one of these full five feet beforereaching an "elbow. " The holes of the tawny marmots, on the contrary, branch off near the surface, and are not so deep under ground. Thisguides us to the explanation of a singular fact--which is, that the"tawnies" make their appearance three weeks earlier in spring than the"leopards, " in consequence of the heat of the sun reaching them sooner, and waking them out of their torpid sleep. 

While these explanations were passing among the boys, the marmots hadcome out, to the number of a score, and were carrying on their gambolsalong the declivity of the hill. They were at too great a distance toheed the movements of the travellers by the camp-fire. Besides, aconsiderable valley lay between them and the camp, which, as theybelieved, rendered their position secure. They were not at such adistance but that many of their movements could be clearly made out bythe boys, who after a while noticed that several furious battles werebeing fought among them. It was not the "tawnies" against the others, but the males of each kind in single combats with one another. Theyfought like little cats, exhibiting the highest degree of boldness andfury; but it was noticed that in these conflicts the leopards were farmore active and spiteful than their kinsmen. In observing them throughhis glass Lucien noticed that they frequently seized each other by thetails, and he further noticed that several of them had their tails muchshorter than the rest. Norman said that these had been bitten off intheir battles; and, moreover, that it was a rare thing to find among themales, or "bucks, " as he called them, one that had a perfect tail!

While these observations were being made, the attention of our party wasattracted to a strange animal that was seen slowly crawling around thehill. It was a creature about as big as an ordinary setter dog, butmuch thicker in the body, shorter in the legs, and shaggier in the coat. Its head was flat, and its ears short and rounded. Its hair was long, rough, and of a mottled hoary grey colour, but dark-brown upon the legsand tail. The latter, though covered with long hair, was short, andcarried upright; and upon the broad feet of the animal could be seenlong and strong curving claws. Its snout was sharp as that of agreyhound--though not so prettily formed--and a white stripe, passingfrom its very tip over the crown, and bordered by two darker bands, gavea singular expression to the animal's countenance. It was altogether, both in form and feature, a strange and vicious-looking creature. Norman recognised it at once as the "blaireau, " or American badger. Theothers had never seen such a creature before--as it is not an inhabitantof the South, nor of any part of the settled portion of the UnitedStates, for the animal there sometimes called a badger is theground-hog, or Maryland marmot (_Arctomys monax_). Indeed, it was for along time believed that no true badger inhabited the Continent ofAmerica. Now, however, it is known that such exists, although it is ofa species distinct from the badger of Europe. It is less in size thanthe latter, and its fur is longer, finer, and lighter in colour; but itis also more voracious in its habits, preying constantly upon mice, marmots, and other small animals, and feeding upon carcasses, wheneverit chances to meet with such. It is an inhabitant of the sandy andbarren districts, where it burrows the earth in such a manner thathorses frequently sink and snap their legs in the hollow ground made byit. These are not always the holes scraped out for its own residence, but the burrows of the marmots, which the blaireau has enlarged, so thatit may enter and prey upon them. In this way the creature obtains mostof its food, but as the marmots lie torpid during the winter months, andthe ground above them is frozen as hard as a rock, it is then impossiblefor the blaireau to effect an entrance. At this season it wouldundoubtedly starve had not Nature provided against such a result, bygiving it the power of sleeping throughout the winter months as well asthe marmots themselves, which it does. As soon as it wakes up and comesabroad, it begins its campaign against these little creatures; and itprefers, above all others, the "tawnies, " and the beautiful "leopards, "both of which it persecutes incessantly. 

The badger when first seen was creeping along with its belly almostdragging the ground, and its long snout projected horizontally in thedirection of the marmot "village. " It was evidently meditating asurprise of the inhabitants. Now and then it would stop, like a pointerdog when close to a partridge, reconnoitre a moment, and then go onagain. Its design appeared to be to get between the marmots and theirburrows, intercept some of them, and get a hold of them without thetrouble of digging them up--although that would be no great affair toit, for so strong are its fore-arms and claws that in loose soil it canmake its way under the ground as fast as a mole. 

Slowly and cautiously it stole along, its hind-feet resting all theirlength upon the ground, its hideous snout thrown forward, and its eyesglaring with a voracious and hungry expression. It had got within fiftypaces of the marmots, and would, no doubt, have succeeded in cutting offthe retreat of some of them, but at that moment a burrowing owl (_Strixcunicularia_), that had been perched upon one of the mounds, rose up, and commenced hovering in circles above the intruder. This drew theattention of the marmot sentries to their well-known enemy, and theirwarning cry was followed by a general scamper of both tawnies andleopards towards their respective burrows. 

The blaireau, seeing that further concealment was no longer of any use, raised himself higher upon his limbs, and sprang forward in pursuit. Hewas too late, however, as the marmots had all got into their holes, andtheir angry "seek-seek, " was heard proceeding from various quarters outof the bowels of the earth. The blaireau only hesitated long enough toselect one of the burrows into which he was sure a marmot had entered;and then, setting himself to his work, he commenced throwing out themould like a terrier. In a few seconds he was half buried, and hishindquarters and tail alone remained above ground. He would soon havedisappeared entirely, but at that moment the boys, directed and headedby Norman, ran up the hill, and seizing him by the tail, endeavoured tojerk him back. That, however, was a task which they could notaccomplish, for first one and then another, and then Basil and Norman--who were both strong boys--pulled with all their might, and could notmove him. Norman cautioned them against letting him go, as in amoment's time he would burrow beyond their reach. So they held on untilFrancois had got his gun ready. This the latter soon did, and a load ofsmall shot was fired into the blaireau's hips, which, although it didnot quite kill him, caused him to back out of the hole, and brought himinto the clutches of Marengo. A desperate struggle ensued, which endedby the bloodhound doubling his vast black muzzle upon the throat of theblaireau, and choking him to death in less than a dozen seconds; andthen his hide--the only part which was deemed of any value--was takenoff and carried to the camp. The carcass was left upon the face of thehill, and the red shining object was soon espied by the buzzards andturkey vultures, so that in a few minutes' time several of these filthybirds were seen hovering around, and alighting upon the hill. 

But this was no new sight to our young voyageurs, and soon ceased to benoticed by them. Another bird, of a different kind, for a short timeengaged their attention. It was a large hawk, which Lucien, as soon ashe saw it, pronounced to be one of the kind known as buzzards (_Buteo_). Of these there are several species in North America, but it is not tobe supposed that there is any resemblance between them and the buzzardsjust mentioned as having alighted by the carcass of the blaireau. Thelatter, commonly called "turkey buzzards, " are true vultures, and feedmostly, though not exclusively, on carrion; while the "hawk buzzards"have all the appearance and general habits of the rest of the falcontribe. 

The one in question, Lucien said, was the "marsh-hawk, " sometimes alsocalled the "hen-harrier" (_Falco uliginosus_). Norman stated that itwas known among the Indians of these parts as the "snake-bird, " becauseit preys upon a species of small green snake that is common on theplains of the Saskatchewan, and of which it is fonder than of any otherfood. 

The voyageurs were not long in having evidence of the appropriateness ofthe Indian appellation; for these people, like other savages, have thegood habit of giving names that express some quality or characteristicof the thing itself. The bird in question was on the wing, and from itsmovements evidently searching for game. It sailed in easy circlingsnear the surface, _quartering_ the ground like a pointer dog. It flewso lightly that its wings were not seen to move, and throughout all itswheelings and turnings it appeared to be carried onwards or upwards bythe power of mere volition. Once or twice its course brought itdirectly over the camp, and Francois had got hold of his gun, with theintention of bringing it down, but on each occasion it perceived hismotions; and, soaring up like a paper-kite until out of reach, it passedover the camp, and then sank down again upon the other side, andcontinued its "quarterings" as before. For nearly half-an-hour it wenton manoeuvring in this way, when all at once it was seen to make asudden turning in the air as it fixed its eyes upon some object in thegrass. The next moment it glided diagonally towards the earth, andpoising itself for a moment above the surface, rose again with a smallgreen-coloured snake struggling in its talons. After ascending to someheight, it directed its flight towards a clump of trees, and was soonlost to the view of our travellers. 

Lucien now pointed out to his companions a characteristic of the hawkand buzzard tribe, by which these birds can always be distinguished fromthe true falcon. That peculiarity lay in the manner of seizing theirprey. The former skim forward upon it sideways--that is, in ahorizontal or diagonal direction, and pick it up in passing; while thetrue falcons--as the merlin, the peregrine, the gerfalcon, and the greateagle-falcons--shoot down upon their prey _perpendicularly_ like anarrow, or a piece of falling lead. 

He pointed out, moreover, how the structure of the different kinds ofpreying birds, such as the size and form of the wings and tail, as wellas other parts, were in each kind adapted to its peculiar mode ofpursuing its prey; and then there arose a discussion as to whether thisadaptation should be considered a _cause_ or an _effect_. Luciensucceeded in convincing his companions that the structure was the effectand not the cause of the habit, for the young naturalist was a firmbeliever in the changing and progressive system of nature. 

CHAPTER NINETEEN. 

AN ODD SORT OF DECOY-DUCK. 

Two days after the adventure with the blaireau, the young voyageursarrived at Cumberland House--one of the most celebrated posts of theHudson's Bay Company. The chief factor, who resided there, was a friendof Norman's father, and of course the youths were received with thewarmest hospitality, and entertained during their stay in the bestmanner the place afforded. They did not make a long stay, however, asthey wished to complete their journey before the winter should set in, when canoe-travelling would become impossible. During winter, not onlythe lakes, but the most rapid rivers of these Northern regions, becomefrozen up, and remain so for many months. Nearly the whole surface ofthe earth is buried under deep snow, and travelling can only be donewith snow-shoes, or with sledges drawn by dogs. These are the modespractised by the Indians, the Esquimaux, and the few white traders andtrappers who have occasion in winter to pass from one point to anotherof that icy and desolate region. 

Travelling under such circumstances is not only difficult and laborious, but is extremely perilous. Food cannot always be obtained--suppliesfall short, or become exhausted--game is scarce, or cannot be found atall, as at that season many of the quadrupeds and most of the birds haveforsaken the country, and migrated to the South--and whole parties oftravellers--even Indians, who can eat anything living or dead, roast orraw--often perish from hunger. 

Our travellers were well acquainted with these facts; and being anxious, therefore, to get to the end of their journey before the winter shouldcome down upon them, made all haste to proceed. Of course they obtaineda new "outfit" at the Fort; but they took with them only such articlesas were absolutely necessary, as they had many portages to make beforethey could reach the waters of the Mackenzie River. As it required twoof the party to carry the canoe, with a few little things besides, allthe baggage was comprised in such loads as the others could manage; andof course that was not a great deal, for Francois was but a lad, andLucien was far from being in robust health. A light axe, a few cookingutensils, with a small stock of provisions, and of course their guns, formed the bulk of their loads. 

After leaving the Fort they kept for several days' journey up theSaskatchewan. They then took leave of that river, and ascended a smallstream that emptied into it from the north. Making their first portageover a "divide, " they reached another small stream that ran in quite adifferent direction, emptying itself into one of the branches of theMississippi, or Churchill River. Following this in a north-westerlycourse, and making numerous other portages, they reached Lake La Crosse, and afterwards in succession, Lakes Clear, Buffalo, and Methy. A long"portage" from the last-mentioned lake brought them to the head of astream known as the "Clear Water;" and launching their canoe upon this, they floated down to its mouth, and entered the main stream of the Elk, or Athabasca, one of the most beautiful rivers of America. They werenow in reality upon the waters of the Mackenzie itself, for the Elk, after passing through the Athabasca Lake, takes from thence the name ofSlave River, and having traversed Great Slave Lake, becomes theMackenzie--under which name it continues on to the Arctic Ocean. Havinggot, therefore, upon the main head-water of the stream which theyintended to traverse, they floated along in their canoe with lighthearts and high hopes. It is true they had yet fifteen hundred miles totravel, but they believed that it was all down-hill work now; and asthey had still nearly two months of summer before them, they doubted notbeing able to accomplish the voyage in good time. 

On they floated down-stream, feasting their eyes as they went--for thescenery of the Elk valley is of a most picturesque and pleasingcharacter; and the broad bosom of the stream itself, studded with woodedislands, looked to our travellers more like a continuation of lakes thana running river. Now they glided along without using an oar, borneonward by the current; then they would take a spell at the paddles, while the beautiful Canadian boat-song could be heard as it came fromthe tiny craft, and the appropriate chorus "Row, brothers, row!" echoedfrom the adjacent shores. No part of their journey was more pleasantthan while descending the romantic Elk. 

They found plenty of fresh provisions, both in the stream itself and onits banks. They caught salmon in the water, and the silver-colouredhyodon, known among the voyageurs by the name of "Dore. " They shot bothducks and geese, and roast-duck or goose had become an everyday dinnerwith them. Of the geese there were several species. There were"snow-geese, " so called from their beautiful white plumage; and"laughing geese, " that derive their name from the circumstance thattheir call resembles the laugh of a man. The Indians decoy these bystriking their open hand repeatedly over the mouth while uttering thesyllable "wah. " They also saw the "Brent goose, " a well-known species, and the "Canada goose, " which is the _wild goose par excellence_. Another species resembling the latter, called the "barnacle goose, " wasseen by our travellers. Besides these, Lucien informed them that therewere several other smaller kinds that inhabit the northern countries ofAmerica. These valuable birds are objects of great interest to thepeople of the fur countries for months in the year. Whole tribes ofIndians look to them as a means of support. 

With regard to ducks, there was one species which our travellers had notyet met with, and for which they were every day upon the look-out. Thiswas the far-famed "canvass-back, " so justly celebrated among theepicures of America. None of them had ever eaten of it, as it is notknown in Louisiana, but only upon the Atlantic coast of the UnitedStates. Norman, however, had heard of its existence in the RockyMountains--where it is said to breed--as well as in other parts of thefur countries, and they were in hopes that they might fall in with itupon the waters of the Athabasca. Lucien was, of course, wellacquainted with its "biography, " and could have recognised one at sight;and as they glided along he volunteered to give his companions someinformation, not only about this particular species, but about the wholegenus of these interesting birds. 

"The canvass-back, " began he, "is perhaps the most celebrated andhighly-prized of all the ducks, on account of the exquisite flavour ofits flesh--which is thought by some epicures to be superior to that ofall other birds. It is not a large duck--rarely weighing over threepounds--and its plumage is far from equalling in beauty that of manyother species. It has a red or chestnut-coloured head, a shining blackbreast, while the greater part of its body is of a greyish colour; butupon close examination this grey is found to be produced by a whitishground minutely mottled with zig-zag black lines. I believe it is thismottling, combined with the colour, which somewhat resembles theappearance and texture of ship's canvass, that has given the bird itstrivial name; but there is some obscurity about the origin of this. Incolour, however, it so nearly resembles the `pochard, ' or `red-head' ofEurope, and its near congener the red-head (_Anas ferina_) of America, that at a distance it is difficult to distinguish them from each other. The last-mentioned species is always found associated with thecanvass-backs, and are even sold for the latter in the markets of NewYork and Philadelphia. A naturalist, however, can easily distinguishthem by their bills and eyes. The canvass-back has red eyes, with agreenish black bill, nearly straight; while the eyes of the red-head areof an orange yellow, its bill bluish and concave along the upper ridge. 

"The canvass-back is known in natural history as _Anas valisneria_, andthis specific name is given to it because it feeds upon the roots of anaquatic plant, a species of `tape-grass, ' or `eel-grass;' butbotanically called `_Valisneria_, ' after the Italian botanist, AntonioValisneri. This grass grows in slow-flowing streams, and also on shoalsby the seaside--where the water, from the influx of rivers, is onlybrackish. The water where it grows is usually three to five feet indepth, and the plant itself rises above the surface to the height of twofeet or more, with grass-like leaves of a deep green colour. Its rootsare white and succulent, and bear some resemblance to celery--hence theplant is known among the duck-hunters as `wild celery. ' It is uponthese roots the canvass-back almost exclusively feeds, and they give tothe flesh of these birds its peculiar and pleasant flavour. Whereverthe valisneria grows in quantity, as in the Chesapeake Bay and somerivers, like the Hudson, there the canvass-backs resort, and are rarelyseen elsewhere. They do not eat the leaves but only the white softroots, which they dive for and pluck up with great dexterity. Theleaves when stripped of the root are suffered to float off upon thesurface of the water; and where the ducks have been feeding, largequantities of them, under the name of `grass wrack, ' are thrown by thewind and tide upon the adjacent shores. 

"Shooting the canvass-backs is a source of profit to hundreds of gunnerswho live around the Chesapeake Bay, as these birds command a high pricein the markets of the American cities. Disputes have arisen between thefowlers of different States around the Bay about the right of shootingupon it; and vessels full of armed men--ready to make war upon oneanother--have gone out on this account. But the government of theseStates succeeded in settling the matter peacefully, and to thesatisfaction of all parties. "

The canoe at this moment shot round a bend, and a long smooth expanse ofthe river appeared before the eyes of our voyageurs. They could seethat upon one side another stream ran in, with a very sluggish current;and around the mouth of this, and for a good stretch below it, thereappeared a green sedge-like water-grass, or rushes. Near the border ofthis sedge, and in a part of it that was thin, a flock of wild fowl wasdiving and feeding. They were small, and evidently ducks; but thedistance was yet too great for the boys to make out to what species theybelonged. A single large swan--a trumpeter--was upon the water, betweenthe shore and the ducks, and was gradually making towards the latter. Francois immediately loaded one of his barrels with swan, or rather"buck" shot, and Basil looked to his rifle. The ducks were not thoughtof--the trumpeter was to be the game. Lucien took out his telescope, and commenced observing the flock. They had not intended to use anyprecaution in approaching the birds, as they were not extremely anxiousabout getting a shot, and were permitting the canoe to glide gentlytowards them. An exclamation from Lucien, however, caused them tochange their tactics. He directed them suddenly to "hold water" andstop the canoe, at the same time telling them that the birds ahead werethe very sort about which they had been conversing--the "canvass-backs. "He had no doubt of it, judging from their colour, size, and peculiarmovements. 

The announcement produced a new excitement. All four were desirous notonly of shooting, but of _eating_, a canvass-back; and arrangements wereset about to effect the former. It was known to all that thecanvass-backs are among the shyest of water-fowl, so much so that it isdifficult to approach them unless under cover. While feeding, it issaid, they keep sentinels on the look-out. Whether this be true or not, it is certain that they never all dive together, some always remainingabove water, and apparently watching while the others are under. A planto get near them was necessary, and one was suggested by Norman, whichwas to tie bushes around the sides of the canoe, so as to hide both thevessel and those in it. This plan was at once adopted--the canoe waspaddled up to the bank--thick bushes were cut, and tied along thegunwale; and then our voyageurs climbed in, and laying themselves as lowas possible, commenced paddling gently downward in the direction of theducks. The rifles were laid aside, as they could be of little servicewith such game. Francois' double-barrel was the arm upon whichdependence was now placed; and Francois himself leaned forward in thebow in order to be ready, while the others attended to the guidance ofthe vessel. The buck-shot had been drawn out, and a smaller kindsubstituted. The swan was no longer cared for or even thought of. 

In about a quarter of an hour's time, the canoe, gliding silently alongthe edge of the sedge--which was the wild celery (_Valisneriaspiralis_)--came near the place where the ducks were; and the boys, peeping through the leafy screen, could now see the birds plainly. Theysaw that they were not all canvass-backs, but that three distinct kindsof ducks were feeding together. One sort was the canvass-backsthemselves, and a second kind very much resembled them, except that theywere a size smaller. These were the "red-heads" or "pochards. " Thethird species was different from either. They had also heads of areddish colour, but of a brighter red, and marked by a white band thatran from the root of the bill over the crown. This mark enabled Lucienat once to tell the species. They were widgeons (_Anas Americana_); butthe most singular thing that was now observed by our voyageurs was theterms upon which these three kinds of birds lived with each other. Itappeared that the widgeon obtained its food by a regular system ofrobbery and plunder perpetrated upon the community of the canvass-backs. The latter, as Lucien had said, feeds upon the roots of the valisneria;but for these it is obliged to dive to the depth of four or five feet, and also to spend some time at the bottom while plucking them up. Nowthe widgeon is as fond of the "celery" as the canvass-back, but theformer is not a diver--in fact, never goes under water except whenwashing itself or in play, and it has therefore no means of procuringthe desired roots. Mark, then, the plan that it takes to effect thisend. Seated as near as is safe to the canvass-back, it waits until thelatter makes his _somersault_ and goes down. It (the widgeon) thendarts forward so as to be sufficiently close, and, pausing again, scansthe surface with eager eye. It can tell where the other is at work, asthe blades of the plant at which it is tugging are seen to move abovethe water. These at length disappear, pulled down as the plant isdragged from its root, and almost at the same instant the canvass-backcomes up holding the root between his mandibles. But the widgeon isready for him. He has calculated the exact spot where the other willrise; and, before the latter can open his eyes or get them clear of thewater, the widgeon darts forward, snatches the luscious morsel from hisbill, and makes off with it. Conflicts sometimes ensue; but thewidgeon, knowing himself to be the lesser and weaker bird, never standsto give battle, but secures his prize through his superior agility. Onthe other hand, the canvass-back rarely attempts to follow him, as heknows that the other is swifter upon the water than he. He only looksafter his lost root with an air of chagrin, and then, reflecting thatthere is "plenty more where it came from, " kicks up its heels, and oncemore plunges to the bottom. 

The red-head rarely interferes with either, as he is contented to feedupon the leaves and stalks, at all times floating in plenty upon thesurface. 

As the canoe glided near, those on board watched these curiousmanoeuvres of the birds with feelings of interest. They saw, moreover, that the "trumpeter" had arrived among them, and the ducks seemed totake no notice of him. Lucien was struck with something unusual in theappearance of the swan. Its plumage seemed ruffled and on end, and itglided along in a stiff and unnatural manner. It moved its neck neitherto one side nor the other, but held its head bent forward, until itsbill almost touched the water, in the attitude that these birds adoptwhen feeding upon something near the surface. Lucien said nothing tohis companions, as they were all silent, lest they might frighten theducks; but Basil and Norman had also remarked the strange look andconduct of the trumpeter. Francois' eyes were bent only upon the ducks, and he did not heed the other. 

As they came closer, first Lucien, and then Basil and Norman, sawsomething else that puzzled them. Whenever the swan approached any ofthe ducks, these were observed to disappear under the water. At first, the boys thought that they merely dived to get out of his way, but itwas not exactly in the same manner as the others were diving for theroots. Moreover, none of those that went down in the neighbourhood ofthe swan were seen to come up again!

There was something very odd in all this, and the three boys, thinkingso at the same time, were about to communicate their thoughts to oneanother, when the double crack of Francois' gun drove the thing, for amoment, out of their heads; and they all looked over the bushes to seehow many canvass-backs had been killed. Several were seen dead orfluttering along the surface; but no one counted them, for a strange, and even terrible, object now presented itself to the astonished sensesof all. If the conduct of the swan had been odd before, it was nowdoubly so. Instead of flying off after the shot, as all expected itwould do, it was now seen to dance and plunge about on the water, uttering loud screams, that resembled the human voice far more than anyother sounds! Then it rose as if pitched into the air, and fell on itsback some distance off; while in its place was seen a dark, round objectmoving through the water, as if making for the bank, and uttering, as itwent, the same hideous human-like screams!

This dark object was no other than the poll of a human being; and theriver shallowing towards the bank, it rose higher and higher above thewater, until the boys could distinguish the glistening neck and nakedshoulders of a red and brawny Indian! All was now explained. TheIndian had been duck-hunting, and had used the stuffed skin of the swanas his disguise; and hence the puzzling motions of the bird. He had notnoticed the canoe--concealed as it was--until the loud crack ofFrancois' gun had startled him from his work. This, and the heads andwhite faces of the boys peeping over the bushes, had frightened him, even more than he had them. Perhaps they were the first white faces hehad ever seen. But, whether or not, sadly frightened he was; for, onreaching the bank, he did not stop, but ran off into the woods, howlingand yelling as if Old Nick had been after him: and no doubt he believedthat such was the case. 

The travellers picked up the swan-skin out of curiosity; and, inaddition to the ducks which Francois had killed, they found nearly ascore of these birds, which the Indian had dropped in his fright, andthat had afterwards risen to the surface. These were strung together, and all had their necks broken. 

After getting them aboard, the canoe was cleared of the bushes; and thepaddles being once more called into service, the little craft shotdown-stream like an arrow. 

CHAPTER TWENTY. 

THE DUCKS OF AMERICA. 

Lucien now continued his "monograph" of the American ducks. 

"There are, " said he, "more than two dozen species of ducks on thewaters of North America. These the systematists have divided into noless than _eighteen genera_! Why it would be more easy to learn allthat ever was known about all the ducks in creation, than to rememberthe eighteen generic names which these gentlemen have invented and putforward. Moreover, the habits of any two species of these ducks aremore similar than those of any two kinds of dogs. Why then, I shouldask--why this complication? It is true that the ducks do not resembleeach other in every thing. Some species are fonder of water thanothers. Some feed entirely upon vegetable substances; others upon smallfish, insects, crustacea, etcetera. Some live entirely in the sea;others make their home in the freshwater lakes and rivers, while manyspecies dwell indifferently, either in salt or fresh waters. Some lovethe open wave; others the sedgy marsh; while one or two species roostupon trees, and build their nests in the hollow trunks. Notwithstandingall this, there is such a similarity in the appearance and habits of thedifferent species, that I think the systematists have improved butlittle, if anything, upon the simple arrangement of the true naturalistWilson, who--poor Scotch _emigre_ as he was, with an empty purse and aloaded gun--has collected more original information about the birds ofAmerica than all that have followed him. He described the ducks ofAmerica under the single genus _Anas_; and, in my opinion, describedthem in a more intelligent and intelligible manner than any one has donesince his time--not even excepting another great and true naturalist, whose career has been longer, more successful, and happier; and whosefame, in consequence of his better fortune, has become, perhaps, higherand more extended. 

"The water-fowl of America, " continued Lucien--"I mean the swans, geese, and ducks, are of great importance in the fur countries where we are nowtravelling. At certain seasons of the year, in many parts, they furnishalmost the only article of food that can be procured. They are allmigratory--that is, when the lakes and rivers of these regions becomefrozen over in the winter they all migrate southward, but return againto breed and spend the summer. They do this, perhaps, because thesewild territories afford them a better security during the season ofincubation, and afterwards of moulting. It is not very certain, however, that this is the reason, and for my part I am inclined to thinknot, for there are also wild, uninhabited territories enough in southernlatitudes, and yet they forsake these and migrate north in the spring. `Their arrival in the fur countries, ' writes a distinguished naturalist, `marks the commencement of spring, and diffuses as much joy among thewandering hunters of the Arctic regions, as the harvest or vintageexcites in more genial climes. ' Both by the Indians and hunters in theemploy of the Hudson's Bay Company swans, geese, and ducks, areslaughtered by thousands, and are eaten not only when fresh killed, butthey are salted in large quantities, and so preserved for winter use, when fresh ones can no longer be procured. Of course, both Indian andwhite hunters use all their art in killing or capturing them; and toeffect this they employ many different methods, as decoying, snaring, netting, and shooting them: but Cousin Norman here could give a betterdescription of all these things than I. Perhaps he will favour us withsome account of them. "

"The Indians, " said the young trader, taking up the subject withouthesitation, "usually snare them. Their most common way is to make anumber of hedges or wattle fences projecting into the water at rightangles to the edge of the lake, or, it may be, river. These fences aretwo or three yards apart, and between each two there is, of course, anopening, into which the birds swim, as they make towards the shore fortheir food. In these openings, then, the snares are set and tied sofirmly to a post stuck in the bottom, that the birds, whether ducks, geese, or swans, when caught, may not be able to drag it away. To keepthe snare in its place, it is secured to the wattles of the fence withtender strands of grass, that of course give way the moment the fowlbecomes entangled. The snares are made out of deer sinews, twisted likepackthread, and sometimes of thongs cut from a `parchment' deerskin, which, as you know, is a deerskin simply dried, and not tanned ordressed. The making of the fences is the part that gives most trouble. Sometimes the timber for the stakes is not easily had; and even when itis plenty, it is no easy matter to drive the stakes into the bottom andwattle them, while seated in a vessel so crank as a birch canoe. Sometimes, in the rivers where the water-fowl most frequent, the currentis swift, and adds to this trouble. Where the lakes and rivers areshallow, the thing becomes easier; and I have seen small lakes andrivers fenced in this way from shore to shore. In large lakes thiswould not be necessary, as most of the water-birds--such as the swansand geese--and all the ducks that are not of the diving kinds, are sureto come to the shore to feed, and are more likely to be taken close into land than out in the open water. 

"The Indians often snare these birds upon the nest, and they always washtheir hands before setting the snare. They have a notion--I don't knowwhether true or not--that if their hands are not clean, the birds cansmell the snare, and will be shy of going into it. They say that allthese birds--and I believe it's true of all fowls that make their nestsupon the ground--go into the nest at one side, and out at the opposite. The Indians knowing this, always set their snares at the side where thebird enters, and by this they are more sure of catching them, and alsoof getting them some hours sooner. 

"Besides snaring the water-fowl, " continued Norman, "the Indianssometimes catch them in nets, and sometimes on hooks baited withwhatever the birds are known to eat. They also shoot them as the whitehunters do, and to get near enough use every sort of cunning that can bethought of. Sometimes they decoy them within shot, by putting woodenducks on the water near their cover, where they themselves arestationed. Sometimes they disguise their canoes under brushwood, andpaddle to the edge of the flock; and when the moulting season comesround, they pursue them through the water, and kill them with sticks. The swans, when followed in this way, often escape. With their strongwings and great webbed feet, they can flap faster over the surface thana canoe can follow them. I have heard of many other tricks which theIndians of different tribes make use of, but I have only seen these waysI have described, besides the one we have just witnessed. "

Norman was one of your practical philosophers, who did not choose totalk much of things with which he was not thoroughly acquainted. 

Lucien now took up the thread of the conversation, and gave some furtherinformation about the different species of American ducks. 

"One of the most celebrated, " said he, "is the `eider-duck' (_Anasmollissima_). This is prized for its down, which is exceedingly softand fine, and esteemed of great value for lining quilts and making bedsfor the over-luxurious. It is said that three pounds' weight of `eiderdown' can be compressed to the size of a man's fist, and yet isafterwards so dilatable as to fill a quilt of five feet square. Thedown is generally obtained without killing the bird, for that which isplucked from dead birds is far inferior, and has lost much of itselasticity. The mode of procuring it is to steal it from the nest, inthe absence of the birds. The female lines the nest with down pluckedfrom her own breast. When this is stolen from her, by those who gatherthe commodity, she plucks out a second crop of it, and arranges it asbefore. This being also removed, it is said that the male bird thenmakes a sacrifice of his downy waistcoat, and the nest is once more putin order; but should this too be taken, the birds forsake their nestnever to return to it again. The quantity of `eider down' found in asingle nest is sufficient to fill a man's hat, and yet it will weighonly about three ounces. 

"The eider-duck is about the size of the common mallard, or wild duckproper. Its colour is black below, and buff-white on the back, neck, and shoulders, while the forehead is bluish black. It is one of the`sea-ducks, ' or _fuligulae_, as the naturalists term them, and it israrely seen in fresh water. Its food is principally the soft molluscacommon in the Arctic seas, and its flesh is not esteemed except by theGreenlanders. It is at home only in the higher latitudes of bothContinents, and loves to dwell upon the rocky shores of the sea; but invery severe winters, it makes its appearance along the Atlantic coast ofthe United States, where it receives different names from the gunners--such as `black-and-white coot, ' `big sea-duck, ' `shoal-duck, ' and`squaw-duck;' and under these titles it is often sold in the markets ofAmerican cities. Some suppose that the eider-duck could be easilydomesticated. If so, it would, no doubt, prove a profitable as well asan interesting experiment; but I believe it has already been attemptedwithout success. It is in the countries of Northern Europe where thegathering of the eider down has been made an object of industry. On theAmerican Continent the pursuit is not followed, either by the native orwhite settler. 

"Another species common to the higher latitudes of both Continents isthe `king-duck, ' so called from its very showy appearance. Its habitsare very similar to the `eider, ' and its down is equally soft andvaluable, but it is a smaller bird. 

"A still smaller species, also noted for its brilliant plumage, inhabitsthe extreme north of both continents. This is the `harlequin-duck;' or, as the early colonists term it, the `lord. '

"But the `wood-duck' (_Anas sponsa_) is perhaps the most beautiful ofall the American species, or indeed of all ducks whatever--although ithas a rival in the _mandarin duck_ of China, which indeed it very muchresembles both in size and markings. The wood-duck is so called fromthe fact of its making its nest in hollow trees, and roostingoccasionally on the branches. It is a freshwater duck, and a Southernspecies--never being seen in very high latitudes; nor is it known inEurope in a wild state, but is peculiar to the Continent of America. Itis one of the easiest species to domesticate, and no zoological gardenis now without it; in all of which its small size--being about that of awidgeon--its active movements and innocent look, its musical_peet-peet_, and, above all, its beautiful plumage, make it a generalfavourite. 

"Besides these, there are many others of the American ducks, whosedescription would interest you, but you would grow tired were I to givea detailed account of them all; so I shall only mention a few that aredistinguished by well-known peculiarities. There is the `whistler'(_Anas clangula_), which takes its trivial name from the whistling soundof its wings while in flight; and the `shoveller, ' so called from theform of its bill; and the `conjuring, ' or `spirit' ducks of the Indians(_Anas vulgaris_ and _albeola_), because they dive so quickly anddexterously, that it is almost impossible to shoot them either with bowor gun. There is the `old wife, ' or `old squaw' (_Anas glacialis_), socalled from its incessant cackle, which the hunters liken to thescolding of an ill-tempered old wife. This species is the most noisy ofall the duck tribe, and is called by the voyageurs `caccawee, ' from itsfancied utterance of these syllables; and the sound, so often heard inthe long nights of the fur countries, has been woven into and forms theburden of many a voyageur's song. In some parts of the United Statesthe caccawee is called `south-southerly, ' as its voice is there thoughtto resemble this phrase, while at the time when most heard--the autumn--these ducks are observed flying in a southerly direction. 

"Besides these, " continued Lucien, "there are the teals--blue andgreen-winged--and the coots, and the widgeon--slightly differing fromthe widgeon of Europe--and there is the rare and beautiful little ruddyduck (_Anas rubida_), with its bright mahogany colour--its long uprighttail and short neck--that at a distance give it the appearance of a duckwith two heads. And there is the well-known `pintail, ' and the`pochard' or `red-head;' and the `mallard, ' from which comes the commondomestic variety, and the `scoter, ' and `surf, ' and `velvet, ' and`dusky, ' ducks--these last four being all, more or less, of a darkcolour. And there are the `shell-drakes, ' or `fishers, ' that swim lowin the water, dive and fly well, but walk badly, and feed altogether onfish. These, on account of their toothed bills, form a genus ofthemselves--the `mergansers, '--and four distinct species of them areknown in America. "

The approach of night, and the necessity of landing, to make their nightcamp, brought Lucien's lecture to a close. Indeed Francois was gladwhen it ended, for he was beginning to think it somewhat tedious. 

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE. 

THE SHRIKE AND THE HUMMING-BIRDS. 

The picturesque scenery of the Elk appeared to be a favourite resortwith the feathered creation. Here our voyageurs saw many kinds ofbirds; both those that migrate into the fur countries during summer, andthose that make their home there in the cold, dark days of winter. Among the former were observed, --the beautiful blue bird of Wilson(_Sialia Wilsoni_) which, on account of its gentle and innocent habits, is quite as much esteemed in America as the "robin" in England. Anotherfavourite of the farmer and the homestead, the purple martin, was seengracefully wheeling through the air; while, among the green leaves, fluttered many brilliant birds. The "cardinal grosbeak" (_Pityluscardinalis_) with his bright scarlet wings; the blue jay, noisy andchattering; the rarer "crossbill" (_Loxia_) with its deep crimsoncolour; and many others, equally bright and beautiful, enlivened thewoods, either with their voice or their gaudy plumage. There was onebird, however, that had neither "fine feathers" nor an agreeable voice, but that interested our travellers more than any of the others. Itsvoice was unpleasant to the ear, and sounded more like the grating of arusty hinge than anything else they could think of. The bird itself wasnot larger than a thrush, of a light grey colour above, whiteunderneath, and with blackish wings. Its bill resembled that of thehawks, but its legs were more like those of the woodpecker tribe; and itseemed, in fact, to be a cross between the two. It was neither thecolour of the bird, nor its form, nor yet its song, that interested ourtravellers, but its singular habits; and these they had a fineopportunity of observing at one of their "noon camps, " where they hadhalted to rest and refresh themselves during the hot midday hours. Theplace was on one of the little islets, which was covered with underwood, with here and there some larger trees. The underwood bushes were ofvarious sorts; but close to the spot where they had landed was a largethicket of honeysuckle, whose flowers were in full bloom, and filled theair with their sweet perfume. 

While seated near these, Francois' quick eye detected the presence ofsome very small birds moving among the blossoms. They were at oncepronounced to be humming-birds, and of that species known as the"ruby-throats" (_Trochilus rolubris_), so called, because a flake of abeautiful vinous colour under the throat of the males exhibits, in thesun, all the glancing glories of the ruby. The back, or upper parts, are of a gilded green colour; and the little creature is the smallestbird that migrates into the fur countries, with one exception, and thatis a bird of the same genus, --the "cinnamon humming-bird" (_Trochilusrufus_). The latter, however, has been seen in the Northern regions, only on the western side of the Rocky Mountains; but then it has beenobserved even as far north as the bleak and inhospitable shores ofNootka Sound. Mexico, and the tropical countries of America, are thefavourite home of the humming-birds; and it was, for a long time, supposed that the "ruby-throats" were the only ones that migratedfarther north than the territory of Mexico itself. It is now known, that besides the "cinnamon humming-bird, " two or three other speciesannually make an excursion into higher latitudes. 

The "ruby-throats" not only travel into the fur countries, but breed innumbers upon the Elk River, the very place where our travellers nowobserved them. 

As they sat watching these little creatures, for there were several ofthem skipping about and poising themselves opposite the flowers, theattention of all was attracted to the movements of a far different sortof bird. It was that one we have been speaking of. It was seated upona tree, not far from the honeysuckles; but every now and then it wouldspring from its perch, dash forward, and after whirring about for somemoments among the humming-birds, fly back to the same tree. 

At first the boys watched these manoeuvres without having theircuriosity excited. It was no new thing to see birds acting in thismanner. The jays, and many other birds of the fly-catching kind(_Muscicapae_), have this habit, and nothing was thought of it at themoment. Lucien, however, who had watched the bird more narrowly, presently declared to the rest that it was catching the humming-birds, and preying upon them--that each time it made a dash among thehoneysuckles, it carried off one in its claws, the smallness of thevictim having prevented them at first from noticing this fact. They allnow watched it more closely than before, and were soon satisfied of thetruth of Lucien's assertion, as they saw it seize one of theruby-throats in the very act of entering the corolla of a flower. Thisexcited the indignation of Francois, who immediately took up his"double-barrel, " and proceeded towards the tree where the bird, asbefore, had carried this last victim. The tree was a low one, of thelocust or _pseud-acacia_ family, and covered all over with great thornyspikes, like all trees of that tribe. Francois paid no attention tothis; but, keeping under shelter of the underwood, he crept forwarduntil within shot. Then raising his gun, he took aim, and pullingtrigger, brought the bird fluttering down through the branches. Hestepped forward and picked it up--not that he cared for such unworthygame, but Lucien had called to him to do so, as the naturalist wished tomake an examination of the creature. He was about turning to go back tocamp, when he chanced to glance his eye up into the locust-tree. Thereit was riveted by a sight which caused him to cry out with astonishment. His cry brought the rest running up to the spot, and they were not lessastonished than he, when they saw the cause of it. I have said that thebranches of the tree were covered with long thorny spikes that pointedin every direction; but one branch in particular occupied theirattention. Upon this there were about a dozen of these spines pointingupward, and upon each spike _was impaled a ruby-throat_! The littlecreatures were dead, of course, but they were neither torn nor even muchruffled in their plumage. They were all placed back upwards, and asneatly spitted upon the thorns as if they had been put there by humanhands. On looking more closely, it was discovered that other creatures, as well as the humming-birds, had been served in a similar manner. Several grasshoppers, spiders, and some coleopterous insects were found, and upon another branch two small meadow-mice (_Arvicolae_) had beentreated to the same terrible death!

To Basil, Norman, and Francois, the thing was quite inexplicable, butLucien understood well enough what it meant. All these creatures, heinformed them, were placed there by the bird which Francois had shot, and which was no other than the "shrike" (_Lanius_) or "butcher-bird"--aname by which it is more familiarly known, and which it receives fromthe very habit they had just observed. Why it follows such a practiceLucien could not tell, as naturalists are not agreed upon this point. Some have asserted that it spits the spiders and other insects for thepurpose of attracting nearer the small birds upon which it preys; butthis cannot be true, for it preys mostly upon birds that are notinsect-eaters, as the finches: besides, it is itself as fond of eatinggrasshoppers as anything else, and consumes large quantities of theseinsects. The most probable explanation of the singular and apparentlycruel habit of the butcher-bird is, that it merely places its victimsupon the thorns, in order to keep them safe from ground-ants, rats, mice, raccoons, foxes, and other preying creatures--just as a good cookwould hang up her meat or game in the larder to prevent the cats fromcarrying it off. The thorny tree thus becomes the storehouse of theshrike, where he hangs up his superfluous spoil for future use, just asthe crows, magpies, and jays, make their secret deposits in chinks ofwalls and the hollows of trees. It is no argument against this theory, that the shrike sometimes leaves these stores without returning to them. The fox, and dog, as well as many other preying creatures, have thesame habit. 

Wondering at what they had seen, the voyageurs returned to their camp, and once more embarked on their journey. 

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO. 

THE FISH-HAWK. 

A few days after, another incident occurred to our voyageurs, whichillustrated the habits of a very interesting bird, the "osprey, " orfish-hawk, as it is more familiarly known in America. 

The osprey (_Falco halicetus_) is a bird of the falcon tribe, and one ofthe largest of the genus--measuring two feet from bill to tail, with animmense spread of wing in proportion, being nearly six feet from tip totip. It is of a dark-brown colour above, that colour peculiar to mostof the hawk tribe, while its lower parts are ashy white. Its legs andbill are blue, and its eyes of a yellow orange. It is found in nearlyall parts of America, where there are waters containing fish, for onthese it exclusively feeds. It is more common on the sea-coast than inthe interior, although it also frequents the large lakes, and lives inthe central parts of the continent during summer, when these are nolonger frozen over. It is not often seen upon muddy rivers, as there itwould stand no chance of espying its victims in the water. It is amigratory bird, seeking the South in winter, and especially the shoresof the Great Mexican Gulf, where large numbers are often seen fishingtogether. In the spring season these birds move to the northward, andmake their appearance along the Atlantic coast of the continent, wherethey diffuse joy into the hearts of the fishermen--because the latterknow, on seeing them, that they may soon expect the large shoals ofherring, shad, and other fish, for which they have been anxiouslylooking out. So great favourites are they with the fishermen, that theywould not knowingly kill an osprey for a boat-load of fish, but regardthese bold fishing birds in the light of "professional brethren. " Inthis case the old adage that "two of a trade never agree" is clearlycontradicted. The farmer often takes up his gun to fire at the osprey--mistaking it for the red-tailed buzzard (_Buteo borealis_) or some otherhawk, several species of which at a distance it resembles--but, ondiscovering his mistake, brings down his piece without pulling trigger, and lets the osprey fly off unharmed. This singular conduct on the partof the farmer arises from his knowledge of the fact, that the ospreywill not only _not_ kill any of his ducks or hens, but that where hemakes a settlement he will drive off from the premises all the hawks, buzzards, and kites, that would otherwise prey upon the poultry. Withsuch protection, therefore, the osprey is one of the securest birds inAmerica. He may breed in a tree over the farmer's or fisherman's doorwithout the slightest danger of being disturbed in his incubation. Isay _his_ incubation; but the male takes no part in this domestic duty, further than to supply his loved mate with plenty of fish while she doesthe hatching business. Of course, thus protected, the osprey is not arare bird. On the contrary, fish-hawks are more numerous than perhapsany other species of the hawk tribe. Twenty or thirty nests may be seennear each other in the same piece of woods, and as many as three hundredhave been counted on one little island. The nests are built upon largetrees--not always at the tops, as those of rooks, but often in forkswithin twenty feet of the ground. They are composed of large sticks, with stalks of corn, weeds, pieces of wet turf, and then linedplentifully with dry sea-grass, or any other grass that may be mostconvenient. The whole nest is big enough to make a load for a cart, andwould be heavy enough to give any horse a good pull. It can be seen, when the woods are open, to an immense distance, and the more easily, asthe tree upon which it is built is always a "dead wood, " and thereforewithout leaves to conceal it. Some say that the birds select a dead ordecaying tree for their nest. It is more probable such is the effect, and not the cause, of their building upon a particular tree. It is morelikely that the tree is killed partly by the mass of rubbish thus piledupon it, and partly by the nature of the substances, such as sea-weed inthe nest, the oil of the fish, the excrement of the birds themselves, and the dead fish that have been dropped about the root, and suffered toremain there; for when the osprey lets fall his finny prey, which heoften does, he never condescends to pick it up again, but goes in searchof another. Boys "a-nesting" might easily discover the nest of theosprey; but were they inclined to despoil it of its three or four eggs(which are about the size of a duck's, and blotched with Spanish brown), they would find that a less easy task, for the owners would be verylikely to claw their eyes out, or else scratch the tender skin fromtheir beardless cheeks: so that boys do not often trouble the nest ofthe osprey. A very curious anecdote is related of a negro havingclimbed up to plunder a nest of these birds. The negro's head wascovered with a close nap of his own black wool, which is supposed by acertain stretch of fancy to have the peculiarity of "growing in at bothends. " The negro, having no other protection than that which his thickfur afforded him, was assailed by both the owners of the nest, one ofwhich, making a dash at the "darkie's" head, struck his talons so firmlyinto the wool, that he was unable to extricate them, and there stuckfast, until the astonished plunderer had reached the foot of the tree. We shall not answer for the truthfulness of this anecdote, althoughthere is nothing improbable about it; for certain it is that these birdsdefend their nests with courage and fury, and we know of more than oneinstance of persons being severely wounded who made the attempt to robthem. 

The ospreys, as already stated, feed exclusively on fish. They are notknown to prey upon birds or quadrupeds of any kind, even when deprivedof their customary food, as they sometimes are for days, on account ofthe lakes and rivers, in which they expected to find it, being frozenover to a later season than usual. Other birds, as the purple grakles, often build among the sticks of the osprey's nest, and rear their youngwithout being meddled with by this generous bird. This is an importantpoint of difference between the osprey and other kinds of hawks; andthere is a peculiarity of structure about the feet and legs of theosprey, that points to the nature of his food and his mode of procuringit. His legs are disproportionately long and strong. They are withoutfeathers nearly to the knees. The feet and toes are also very long, andthe soles are covered with thick, hard scales, like the teeth of a rasp, which enable the bird to hold securely his slippery prey. The claws, too, are long, and curved into semicircles, with points upon them almostas sharp as needles. 

I have stated that an incident occurred to our party that illustratedsome of the habits of this interesting bird. It was upon the afternoonof a Saturday, after they had fixed their camp to remain for thefollowing day. They had landed upon a point or promontory that ran outinto the river, and from which they commanded a view of a fine stretchof water. Near where they had placed their tent was the nest of anosprey, in the forks of a large poplar. The tree, as usual, was dead, and the young were plainly visible over the edge of the nest. Theyappeared to be full-grown and feathered; but it is a peculiarity of theyoung ospreys that they will remain in the nest, and be fed by theparent birds, until long after they might be considered able to shiftfor themselves. It is even asserted that the latter become impatient atlength, and drive the young ones out of the nest by beating them withtheir wings; but that for a considerable time afterwards they continueto feed them--most likely until the young birds learn to capture theirfinny prey for themselves. 

This Lucien gave as a popular statement, but did not vouch for itstruth. It was not long, however, before both he and his companionswitnessed its complete verification. 

The old birds, after the arrival of the voyageurs upon the promontory, had remained for some time around the nest, and at intervals had shotdown to where the party was, uttering loud screams, and making the airwhizz with the strokes of their wings. Seeing that there was nointention of disturbing them, they at length desisted from thesedemonstrations, and sat for a good while quietly upon the edge of theirnest. Then first one, and shortly after the other, flew out, andcommenced sailing in circles, at the height of an hundred feet or soabove the water. Nothing could be more graceful than their flight. Nowthey would poise themselves a moment in the air, then turn their bodiesas if on a pivot, and glide off in another direction. All these motionswere carried on with the most perfect ease, and as if without theslightest aid from the wings. Again they would come to a pause, holdingthemselves fixed in mid-air by a gentle flapping, and appearing toscrutinise some object below. Perhaps it was a fish; but it was eithertoo large a one, or not the species most relished, or maybe it had sunkto too great a depth to be easily taken. Again they sail around; one ofthem suddenly arrests its flight, and, like a stone projected from asling, shoots down to the water. Before reaching the surface, however, the fish, whose quick eye has detected the coming enemy, has gone to thedark bottom, and concealed himself; and the osprey, suddenly checkinghimself by his wings and the spread of his full tail, mounts again, andre-commences his curvilinear flight. 

After this had gone on for some time, one of the birds--the larger one, and therefore the female--was seen to leave off hunting, and return tothe nest. There she sat only for a few seconds, when, to theastonishment of the boys, she began to strike her wings against theyoung ones, as if she was endeavouring to force them from the nest. This was just what she designed doing. Perhaps her late unsuccessfulattempt to get them a fish had led her to a train of reflections, andsharpened her determination to make them shift for themselves. Howeverthat may be, in a few moments she succeeded in driving them up to theedge, and then, by half pushing, and half beating them with her wings, one after the other--two of them there were--was seen to take wing, andsoar away out over the lake. 

At this moment, the male shot down upon the water, and then rose againinto the air, bearing a fish, head-foremost, in his talons. He flewdirectly towards one of the young, and meeting it as it hovered in theair, turned suddenly over, and held out the fish to it. The latterclutched it with as much ease as if it had been accustomed to the thingfor years, and then turning away, carried the fish to a neighbouringtree, and commenced devouring it. The action had been perceived by theother youngster, who followed after, and alighted upon the same branch, with the intention of sharing in the meal. In a few minutes, the bestpart of the fish was eaten up, and both, rising from the branch, flewback to their nest. There they were met by the parents, and welcomedwith a loud squeaking, that was intended, no doubt, to congratulate themupon the success of their first "fly. "

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE. 

THE OSPREY AND HIS TYRANT. 

After remaining for some time on the nest along with the others, the oldmale again resolved to "go a-fishing, " and with this intent he shot outfrom the tree, and commenced wheeling above the water. The boys, havingnothing better to engage them, sat watching his motions, while theyfreely conversed about his habits and other points in his naturalhistory. Lucien informed them that the osprey is a bird common to bothContinents, and that it is often seen upon the shores of theMediterranean, pursuing the finny tribes there, just as it does inAmerica. In some parts of Italy it is called the "leaden eagle, "because its sudden heavy plunge upon the water is fancied to resemblethe falling of a piece of lead. 

While they were discoursing, the osprey was seen to dip once or twicetowards the surface of the water, and then suddenly check himself, andmount upward again. These manoeuvres were no doubt caused by the fishwhich he intended to "hook" having suddenly shifted their quarters. Most probably experience had taught them wisdom, and they knew theosprey as their most terrible enemy. But they were not to escape him atall times. As the boys watched the bird, he was seen to poise himselffor an instant in the air, then suddenly closing his wings, he shotvertically downward. So rapid was his descent, that the eye could onlytrace it like a bolt of lightning. There was a sharp whizzing sound inthe air--a plash was heard--then the smooth bosom of the water was seento break, and the white spray rose several feet above the surface. Foran instant the bird was no longer seen. He was underneath, and theplace of his descent was marked by a patch of foam. Only a singlemoment was he out of sight. The next he emerged, and a few strokes ofhis broad wing carried him into the air, while a large fish was seengriped in his claws. As the voyageurs had before noticed, the fish wascarried head-foremost, and this led them to the conclusion that instriking his prey beneath the water the osprey follows it and aims hisblow from behind. 

After mounting a short distance the bird paused for a moment in the air, and gave himself a shake, precisely as a dog would do after coming outof water. He then directed his flight, now somewhat slow and heavy, toward the nest. On reaching the tree, however, there appeared to besome mismanagement. The fish caught among the branches as he flewinward. Perhaps the presence of the camp had distracted his attention, and rendered him less careful. At all events, the prey was seen to dropfrom his talons; and bounding from branch to branch, went tumbling downto the bottom of the tree. 

Nothing could be more opportune than this, for Francois had not beenable to get a "nibble" during the whole day, and a fresh fish for dinnerwas very desirable to all. Francois and Basil had both started to theirfeet, in order to secure the fish before the osprey should pounce downand pick it up; but Lucien assured them that they, need be in no hurryabout that, as the bird would not touch it again after he had once letit fall. Hearing this, they took their time about it, and walkedleisurely up to the tree, where they found the fish lying. After takingit up they were fain to escape from the spot, for the effluvium arisingfrom a mass of other fish that lay in a decomposed state around the treewas more than any delicate pair of nostrils could endure. The one theyhad secured proved to be a very fine salmon of not less than six poundsweight, and therefore much heavier than the bird itself! The track ofthe osprey's talons was deeply marked; and by the direction in which thecreature was scored, it was evident the bird had seized it from behind. The old hawks made a considerable noise while the fish was being carriedaway; but they soon gave up their squealing, and, once more hovering outover the river, sailed about with their eyes bent upon the water below. 

"What a number of fish they must kill!" said Francois. "They don'tappear to have much difficulty about it. I should think they get asmuch as they can eat. See! there again! Another, I declare!"

As Francois spake the male osprey was seen to shoot down as before, andthis time, although he appeared scarcely to dip his foot in the water, rose up with a fish in his talons. 

"They have sometimes others to provide for besides themselves, " remarkedLucien. "For instance, the bald eagle--"

Lucien was interrupted by a cackling scream, which was at oncerecognised as that of the very bird whose name had just escaped hislips. All eyes were instantly turned in the direction whence it came--which was from the opposite side of the river--and there, just in theact of launching itself from the top of a tall tree, was the great enemyof the osprey--the white-headed eagle himself!

"Now a chase!" cried Francois, "yonder comes the big robber!"

With some excitement of feeling, the whole party watched the movementsof the birds. A few strokes of the eagle's wing brought him near; butthe osprey had already heard his scream, and knowing it was no usecarrying the fish to his nest, turned away from it, and rose spirallyupward, in the hope of escaping in that direction. The eagle followed, beating the air with his broad pinions, as he soared after. Closebehind him went the female osprey, uttering wild screams, flapping herwings against his very beak, and endeavouring to distract his attentionfrom the chase. It was to no purpose, however, as the eagle full wellknew her object, and disregarding her impotent attempts, kept on insteady flight after her mate. This continued until the birds hadreached a high elevation, and the ospreys, from their less bulk, werenearly out of sight. But the voyageurs could see that the eagle was onthe point of overtaking the one that carried the fish. Presently, aglittering object dropped down from the heavens, and fell with a plungeupon the water. It was the fish, and almost at the same instant washeard the "whish!" of the eagle, as the great bird shot after it. Before reaching the surface, however, his white tail and wings were seento spread suddenly, checking his downward course; and then, with ascream of disappointment, he flew off in a horizontal direction, andalit upon the same tree from which he had taken his departure. In aminute after the ospreys came shooting down, in a diagonal line, totheir nest; and, having arrived there, a loud and apparently angryconsultation was carried on for some time, in which the young birds boreas noisy a part as either of their parents. 

"It's a wonder, " said Lucien, "the eagle missed the fish--he rarelydoes. The impetus which he can give his body enables him to overtake afalling object before it can reach the earth. Perhaps the female ospreywas in his way, and hindered him. "

"But why did he not pick it up in the water?" demanded Francois. 

"Because it went to the bottom, and he could not reach it--that'sclear. "

It was Basil who made answer, and the reason he assigned was the trueone. 

"It's too bad, " said Francois, "that the osprey, not half so big a bird, must support this great robber-tyrant by his industry. "

"It's no worse than among our own kind, " interposed Basil. "See how thewhite man makes the black one work for him here in America. That, however, is the _few_ toiling for the _million_. In Europe the case isreversed. There, in every country, you see the million toiling for thefew--toiling to support an oligarchy in luxurious ease, or a monarch inbarbaric splendour. "

"But why do they do so? the fools!" asked Francois, somewhat angrily. 

"Because they know no better. That oligarchy, and those monarchs, havetaken precious care to educate and train them to the belief that such isthe _natural_ state of man. They furnish them with school-books, whichare filled with beautiful sophisms--all tending to inculcate principlesof endurance of wrong, and reverence for their wrongers. They filltheir rude throats with hurrah songs that paint false patriotism inglowing colours, making loyalty--no matter to whatsoever despot--thegreatest of virtues, and revolution the greatest of crimes; theystudiously divide their subjects into several creeds, and then, playingupon the worst of all passions--the passion of religious bigotry--easilyprevent their misguided helots from uniting upon any point which wouldgive them a real reform. Ah! it is a terrible game which the presentrulers of Europe are playing!"

It was Basil who gave utterance to these sentiments, for the youngrepublican of Louisiana had already begun to think strongly on politicalsubjects. No doubt Basil would one day be an M. C. 

"The bald eagles have been much blamed for their treatment of theospreys, but, " said Lucien, "perhaps they have more reason for levyingtheir tax than at first appears. It has been asked: Why they do notcapture the fish themselves? Now, I apprehend, that there is a_natural_ reason why they do not. As you have seen, the fish are notalways caught upon the surface. The osprey has often to plunge beneaththe water in the pursuit, and Nature has gifted him with power to do so, which, if I am not mistaken, she has denied to the eagles. The latterare therefore compelled, in some measure, to depend upon the former fora supply. But the eagles sometimes do catch the fish themselves, whenthe water is sufficiently shallow, or when their prey comes near enoughto the surface to enable them to seize it. "

"Do they ever kill the ospreys?" inquired Francois. 

"I think not, " replied Lucien; "that would be `killing the goose, 'etcetera. They know the value of their tax-payers too well to get ridof them in that way. A band of ospreys, in a place where there happensto be many of them together, have been known to unite and drive theeagles off. That, I suppose, must be looked upon in the light of asuccessful _revolution_. "

The conversation was here interrupted by another incident. The ospreyshad again gone out fishing, and, at this moment, one of them was seen topounce down and take a fish from the water. It was a large fish, and, as the bird flew heavily upward, the eagle again left its perch, andgave chase. This time the osprey was overtaken before it had got twohundred yards into the air, and seeing it was no use attempting to carryoff the prey, it opened its claws and let it drop. The eagle turnedsuddenly, poised himself a moment, and then shot after the falling fish. Before the latter had got near the ground, he overtook and secured itin his talons. Then, arresting his own flight by the sudden spread ofhis tail, he winged his way silently across the river, and disappearedamong the trees upon the opposite side. The osprey, taking the thing asa matter of course, again descended to the proper elevation, and betookhimself to his work. Perhaps he grinned a little like many anotherroyal tax-payer, but he knew the tax had to be paid all the same, and hesaid nothing. 

An incident soon after occurred that astonished and puzzled our partynot a little. The female osprey, that all this time seemed to have hadbut poor success in her fishing, was now seen to descend with a rush, and plunge deeply into the wave. The spray rose in a little cloud overthe spot, and all sat watching with eager eyes to witness the result. What was their astonishment when, after waiting many seconds, the birdstill remained under water! Minutes passed, and still she did not comeup. _She came up no more_! The foam she had made in her descentfloated away--the bosom of the water was smooth as glass--not a rippledisturbed its surface. They could have seen the smallest object for ahundred yards or more around the spot where she had disappeared. It wasimpossible she could have emerged without them seeing her. Where, then, had she gone? This, as I have said, puzzled the whole party; and formeda subject of conjecture and conversation for the rest of that day, andalso upon the next. Even Lucien was unable to solve the mystery. Itwas a point in the natural history of the osprey unknown to him. Couldshe have drowned herself? Had some great fish, the "gar pike, " or somesuch creature, got hold of and swallowed her? Had she dashed her headagainst a rock, or become entangled in weeds at the bottom of the river?

All these questions were put, and various solutions of the problem wereoffered. The true one was not thought of, until accident revealed it. It was Saturday when the incident occurred. The party, of course, remained all next day at the place. They heard almost continually thecry of the bereaved bird, who most likely knew no more than they whathad become of his mate. On Monday our travellers re-embarked andcontinued down-stream. About a mile below, as they were paddling along, their attention was drawn to a singular object floating upon the water. They brought the canoe alongside it. It was a large fish, a sturgeon, floating dead, with a bird beside it, also dead! On turning both over, what was their astonishment to see that the talons of the bird werefirmly fixed in the back of the fish! It was the _female osprey_! Thisexplained all. She had struck a fish too heavy for her strength, andbeing unable to clear her claws again, had been drawn under the waterand had perished along with her victim!

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR. 

THE VOYAGE INTERRUPTED. 

About ten days' rapid travelling down the Elk River brought our partyinto the Athabasca Lake--sometimes called the "Lake of the Hills. " Thisis another of those great bodies of fresh water that lie between theprimitive rocks of the "Barren Grounds, " and the more fertile limestonedeposit upon the west. It is nearly two hundred miles long from west toeast, and is only fifteen miles in breadth, but in some places it is sonarrow and full of islands that it looks more like a broad river than alake. Its shores and many of its islands are thickly wooded, particularly upon the southern and western edges; and the eye of thetraveller is delighted with many a beautiful vista as he passes along. But our voyageurs took little heed of these things. A gloom had comeover their spirits, for one of their party had taken ill, and wassuffering from a painful and dangerous disease--an intermittent fever. It was Lucien--he that was beloved by all of them. He had beencomplaining for several days--even while admiring the fair scenery ofthe romantic Elk--but every day he had been getting worse, until, ontheir arrival at the lake, he declared himself no longer able to travel. It became necessary, therefore, to suspend their journey; and choosinga place for their camp, they made arrangements to remain until Lucienshould recover. They built a small log-hut for the invalid, and dideverything to make him as comfortable as possible. The best skins werespread for his couch; and cooling drinks were brewed for him from roots, fruits, and berries, in the way he had already taught his companions toprepare them. Every day Francois went forth with his gun, and returnedwith a pair of young pigeons, or a wood-partridge, or a brace of thebeautiful ruffed grouse; and out of these he would make delicate soups, which he was the better able to do as they had procured salt, pepper, and other ingredients, at the Fort. They had also brought with them astock of tea--the real China tea--and sugar; and as the quantity of bothwas but small, this luxurious beverage was made exclusively for Lucien, and was found by him exceedingly beneficial during his illness. 

To the great joy of all the invalid was at length restored to health, and the canoe being once more launched and freighted, they continuedtheir journey. 

They coasted along the shores of the lake, and entered the Great SlaveRiver, which runs from the Athabasca into the Great Slave Lake. Theysoon came to the mouth of another large river, called the Peace. Thisruns into the Great Slave a short distance below Lake Athabasca, and, strange to say, the sources of the Peace River lie upon the _western_side of the Rocky Mountains, so that this stream actually runs acrossthe mountain-chain! It passes through the mountains in a succession ofdeep gorges, which are terrible to behold. On both sides dizzy cliffsand snow-capped peaks rise thousands of feet above its rocky bed, andthe scenery is cold and desolate. Its head-waters interlock with thoseof several streams that run into the Pacific; so that, had our voyageurswished to travel to the shores of that ocean, they might have done so intheir birch-bark canoe nearly the whole of the way. But this was nottheir design at present, so they passed the _debouchure_ of the Peace, and kept on for the Great Slave Lake. They were still upon the samewater as the Elk, for the Great Slave is only another name for that partof the river lying between the two lakes--Athabasca and Great Slave. Ofcourse the river had now become much larger by the influx of the Peace, and they were travelling upon the bosom of a magnificent stream, withvaried scenery upon its banks. They were not so happy, however, as whendescending the Elk--not but that they were all in good health, forLucien had grown quite strong again. No, it was not any want of healththat rendered them less cheerful. It was the prospect before them--theprospect of coming winter, which they now felt certain would arrivebefore they had got to the end of their journey. The delay of nearly amonth, occasioned by Lucien's illness, had deranged all theircalculations; and they had no longer any hope of being able to finishtheir voyage in what remained of the short summer. The ice would soonmake its appearance; the lakes and rivers would be frozen up; they couldno longer navigate them in their canoe. To travel afoot would be a mostlaborious undertaking, as well as perilous in an extreme degree. Inthis way it is only possible to carry a very small quantity ofprovisions--for the traveller is compelled to load himself withskin-clothing in order to keep out the cold. The chances of procuringgame by the way in that season are precarious, and not to be dependedupon. Most of the birds and many of the quadrupeds migrate to moresouthern regions; and those that remain are shy and rare. Besides, great snow-storms are to be encountered, in which the traveller is indanger of getting "smoored. " The earth is buried under a deep coveringof snow, and to pass over this while soft is difficult, and at timesquite impossible. All these circumstances were known to our youngvoyageurs--to Norman better than any of them--and of course the prospectwas a cheerless one--much more so than those unacquainted with thewinter of these dreary regions would be willing to believe. 

It was the month of August, near its end, when they reached the GreatSlave Lake, in the latitude of 62 degrees. The days had now become veryshort, and their journeys grew short in proportion. They alreadyexperienced weather as cold as an English winter. There were slightfrosts at night--though not yet enough to cover the water with ice--andthe midday hours were hot, sometimes too hot to be comfortable. Butthis only caused them to feel the cold the more sensibly when eveningset in; and all their robes and skins were necessary to keep them warmduring the night. 

The Great Slave Lake, like the Athabasca, is very long and very narrow. It extends full 260 miles from east to west, but at its widest part isnot over thirty, and in some places much less. Along its northernshores lies the edge of the "Barren Grounds, " and there nothing meetsthe eye but bleak and naked hills of primitive rock. On its southernside the geology is entirely of a different character. There thelimestone prevails, and scarcely anything that deserves the name of hillis to be seen. There are fine forests too, in which poplars, pines, andbirches, are the principal trees. The lake is filled with islands, manyof which are wholly or partially covered with timber of these kinds, andwillows also are abundant. There are fish of several species in itswaters, which are in many places of great depth--sixty fathoms deep--andin some of the islands, and around the wooded shores, game exists inabundance in the summer season. Even in winter it is not scarce, butthen it is difficult to follow it on account of the deep snow. Many ofthe animals, too, at this season become torpid, and are of course hiddenin caves and hollow trees, and even in the snow itself, where no one canfind them. Notwithstanding all this, our voyageurs knew that it wouldbe the best place for them to make their winter camp. They saw that tocomplete their journey during that season would be impossible. Even hadit been a month earlier it would have been a difficult undertaking. Ina few days winter would be upon them. They would have to stopsomewhere. There was no place where they could so safely stay as by thelake. One thing they would have there, which might not be found soplenty elsewhere, that was wood for their fire; and this was aninducement to remain by the lake. Having made up their minds, therefore, to encamp on some part of it, they looked from day to day fora place that would be most suitable, still continuing their journeytowards its western end. As yet no place appeared to their liking, andas the lake near its western point trends away towards the south, Normanproposed that they should follow the shore no longer, but strike acrossto a promontory on the northern shore of the lake, known as "SlavePoint. " This promontory is of the limestone formation, and as Normanhad heard, is well wooded, and stocked with game. Even buffaloes arefound there. It is, in fact, the farthest point to the north-east thatthese animals range, and this presents us with a curious fact. It isthe farthest point that the limestone deposit extends in that direction. Beyond that, to the east and north, lie the primitive rocks of theBarren Grounds, into which the buffaloes never stray. Thus we observethe connexion that exists between the _fauna_ of a country and itsgeological character. 

Of course they all agreed to Norman's proposal. The canoe was, therefore, headed for the open waters; and, after a hard day'spaddling--for there was a head-wind--the voyageurs landed upon a smallwooded island, about halfway over the lake, where they encamped for thenight, intending next day to cross the remaining part. 

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE. 

FISHING UNDER THE ICE. 

On awaking next morning, to their great surprise, they saw that the_lake was frozen over_! They had almost anticipated as much, for thenight was one of the coldest they had yet experienced--so cold that oneand all of them had slept but badly. As yet the ice was thin, but somuch the worse. It was thick enough to prevent them from using thecanoe, but too thin to bear their weight, and they now saw that theywere _prisoners upon the island_!

It was not without some feelings of alarm that they made this discovery;but their fears were allayed by reflecting, that they could remain uponthe island until the ice either thawed away or became strong enough tobear them, and then they could cross upon it to the northern shore. 

With this consolation, therefore, they set about making their temporaryquarters upon the island as snug as circumstances would permit. Theirapprehensions, however, began to return again, when several days hadpassed over, and the ice neither grew any thinner nor any thicker, butseemed to remain at a standstill. In the early part of the morning itwas almost strong enough to bear them; but during the day the sun meltedit, until it was little better than a scum over the surface of thewater. The alarm of our voyageurs increased. Their provisions werenearly out. There was no game on the islet--not so much as a bird--forthey had beaten every bush, and found nothing. Once or twice theythought of launching their canoe and breaking a way for it through theice. But they knew that this proceeding would be one of much labour aswell as danger. The islet was full ten miles from the shore, and theywould therefore have to break the ice for ten miles. Moreover, to standup in a bark canoe, so as to get at the work, would be a difficult task. It could not be accomplished without endangering the equilibrium of thevessel, and indeed without upsetting it altogether. Even to leanforward in the bow would be a perilous experiment; and under theseconsiderations the idea of breaking a way was abandoned. But theirprovisions were at length entirely exhausted, and what was to be done?The ice was still too weak to carry them. Near the shore it might havebeen strong enough, but farther out lay the danger. There they knew itwas thinner, for it had not frozen over until a later period. It wouldhave been madness to have risked it yet. On the other hand, they werestarving, or likely to starve from hunger, by staying where they were. There was nothing eatable on the island. What was to be done? In thewater were fish--they doubted not that--but how were they to catch them?They had tried them with hook and line, letting the hook through a holein the ice; but at that late season the fish would not take a bait, andalthough they kept several continually set, and "looked" them mostregularly and assiduously, not a "tail" was taken. 

They were about to adopt the desperate expedient, now more difficultthan ever, of breaking their way through the ice, when, all at once, itoccurred to Norman, that, if they could not coax the fish to take abait, they might succeed better with a net, and capture them againsttheir will. This idea would have been plausible enough, had there beena net; but there was no net on that islet, nor perhaps within an hundredmiles of it. The absence of a net might have been an obstacle to thosewho are ever ready to despair; but such an obstacle never occurred toour courageous boys. They had two _parchment_ skins of the caribouwhich they had lately killed, and out of these Norman proposed to make anet. He would soon do it, he said, if the others would set to work andcut the deerskins into thongs fine enough for the purpose. Two of them, therefore, Basil and Lucien, took out their knives, and went briskly towork; while Francois assisted Norman in twining the thongs, andafterwards held them, while the latter wove and knotted them intomeshes. In a few hours both the skins were cut into fine strips, andworked up; and a net was produced nearly six yards in length by at leasttwo in width. It was rude enough, to be sure, but perhaps it would doits work as well as if it had been twined out of silk. At all events, it was soon to have a trial--for the moment it was finished the sinkerswere attached to it, and it was carried down to the edge of the water. 

The three "Southerners" had never seen a net set under ice--for in theircountry ice is an uncommon thing, and indeed never freezes of sufficientthickness to carry the weight of a man. They were therefore verycurious to know how the thing was to be done. They could not conceivehow the net was to be stretched under the ice, in such a manner as tocatch the fish. Norman, however, knew all about it. He had seen theIndians, and had set many a one himself. It was no new thing for him, and he set about it at once. 

He first crept out upon the ice to the distance of about twenty orthirty yards from the shore. He proceeded cautiously, as the icecreaked under him. Having arrived at the place where he intended to setthe net, he knelt down, and with his knife cut several holes in the ice, at the distance of about six feet from each other, and all in one line. He had already provided himself with a straight sapling of more than sixfeet in length, to one end of which he had attached a cord. The otherend of this cord was tied to the net, at one of its corners. He nowthrust the sapling through the first hole he had made, and then guidedit so as to pass directly under the second. At this hole he took afresh hold of the stick, and passed it along to the next, and so on tothe last, where he pulled it out again, and of course along with it thestring. The net was now drawn into the first hole, and by means of thecord already received through, was pulled out to its full length. Thesinkers, of course, fell down in the water, and drew it into a verticalposition. At both its upper corners the net was made fast above theice, and was now "set. " Nothing more could be done until the fish cameinto it of their own accord, when it could be drawn out upon the ice bymeans of the cord attached; and, of course, by the same means couldeasily be returned to its place, and set again. 

All of them now went back to the fire, and with hungry looks sat aroundit, waiting the result. They had made up their minds, should no fish becaught, to get once more into the canoe and attempt breaking their wayto the shore. Summoning all their patience, therefore, they waited fornearly two hours, without examining the net. Then Norman and Basilcrawled back upon the ice, to see what fortune had done for them. Theyapproached the spot, and, with their hearts thumping against their ribs, untied the knot, and commenced hauling out. 

"It certainly feels heavy, " said Basil, as he net was being drawn. "Hurrah!" he shouted, "Something kicks, hurrah!" and with the second"hurrah!" a beautiful fish was pulled up through the hole, and landedupon the ice. A loud "hurrah" was uttered in response by Lucien andFrancois--who, fearing the ice might not bear so many, had remained uponthe shore. A yard or two more of the net was cleared, and a second fishstill larger than the former was greeted with a general "hurrah!" Thetwo fish were now taken out--as these were all that had been caught--andthe net was once more carefully set. Basil and Norman came back to theshore--Norman to receive quite a shower of compliments from hiscompanions. The fish--the largest of which weighed nearly five pounds--proved to be trout; and it was not long before their quality was put tothe proof. All declared they had never eaten so fine trout in theirlives; but when the condition of their appetites is taken into account, we may infer that there was, perhaps, a little exaggeration in thisstatement. If hunger really makes good sauce, our voyageurs had thebest of sauce with their fish, as each of them was as hungry as ahalf-famished wolf. 

They felt quite relieved, as far as present appetite went, but they werestill uneasy for the future. Should they not succeed in taking morefish--and it was by no means certain they should succeed--they would beno better off than ever. Their anxiety, however, was soon removed. Their second "haul" proved even more successful than the first--as fivefish, weighing together not less than twenty pounds, were pulled up. 

This supply would enable them to hold out for a long time, but they hadnot much longer to remain on the islet. Upon that very night there wasone of those severe frosts known only in high latitudes, and the iceupon the lake became nearly a foot in thickness. They had no longer anyfear of its breaking under their weight; and taking their canoe with alltheir "traps, " they set out to cross over upon the ice. In a few hoursthey reached the shore of the lake, near the end of the promontory, where they chose a spot, and encamped. 

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX. 

AN ODD ALARM. 

The first thing our voyageurs did after choosing a suitable situation, was to build a log-hut. Being young backwoodsmen this was but a trifleto them. All four of them knew how to handle an axe with dexterity. The logs were soon cut and notched, and a small cabin was put up, androofed with split clap-boards. With the stones that lay near the shoreof the lake they built a chimney. It was but a rude structure, but itdrew admirably. Clay was wanted to "chink" the cabin, but that couldnot be had, as the ground was hard frozen, and it was quite impossibleto make either clay or mud. Even hot water poured out would freeze intoice in a few minutes. This was a serious want--for in such a coldclimate even the smallest hole in the walls will keep a houseuncomfortable, and to fill the interstices between the logs, so as tomake them air-tight, some soft substance was necessary. Grass wassuggested, and Lucien went off in search of it. After a while hereturned with an armful of half-withered grass, which all agreed wouldbe the very thing; and a large quantity was soon collected, as it grewplentifully at a short distance from the cabin. 

They now set to work to stuff it into the chinks; when, to theirastonishment, they found that this grass had a beautiful smell, quite aspowerful and as pleasant as that of mint or thyme! When a smallquantity of it was flung into the fire it filled the cabin with afragrance as agreeable as the costliest perfumes. It was the "scentedgrass, " which grows in great profusion in many parts of the Hudson's Bayterritory, and out of which the Indians often make their beds, burningit also upon the fire to enjoy its aromatic perfume. 

For the first day or two, at their new abode, the travellers had livedaltogether on fish. They had, of course, brought their net with themfrom the island, and had set it near the shore in the same way asbefore. They had captured as many as they wanted, and, strange to say, at one haul they found no less than five different species in the net!One kind, a white fish, the _Coregonus albus_ of naturalists, but whichis named "tittameg" by the fur-traders, they caught in great plenty. This fish is found in nearly all the lakes and rivers of the Hudson'sBay territory, and is much prized both by whites and Indians for itsdelicate flavour. At some of the trading posts it often forms, forweeks together, the only food which the residents can obtain; and theyare quite satisfied when they can get enough of it. The tittameg is nota large fish; the largest attain to the weight of about eight pounds. 

There was another and still smaller species, which, from its colour, thevoyageurs call the "poisson bleu, " or blue fish. It is the _Coregonussignifer_ of ichthyologists. It is a species of grayling, and frequentssharp-running water, where it will leap at the fly like a trout. Several kinds of trout also inhabit the Great Slave Lake, and some ofthese attain to the enormous weight of eighty pounds! A few werecaught, but none of so gigantic proportions as this. Pike were alsotaken in the net, and a species of burbot (_Gadus lota_). This last isone of the most voracious of the finny tribe, and preys upon all othersthat it is able to swallow. It devours whole quantities of cray-fish, until its stomach becomes crammed to such a degree as to distort theshape of its whole body. When this kind was drawn out, it was treatedvery rudely by the boys--because its flesh was known to be extremelyunsavoury, and none of them cared to eat it. Marengo, however, had nosuch scruples, and he was wont to make several hearty meals each dayupon the rejected burbot. 

A fish diet exclusively was not the thing; and as our party soon grewtired of it, the hunter Basil shouldered his rifle, and strode off intothe woods in search of game. The others remained working upon thecabin, which was still far from being finished. 

Basil kept along the edge of the lake in an easterly direction. He hadnot gone more than a quarter of a mile, when he came upon a dry gravellyridge, which was thickly covered with a species of pine-trees thatresembled the Scotch fir (_Pinus sylvestris_). These trees were notover forty feet in height, with very thick trunks and long flexiblebranches. No other trees grew among them, for it is the nature of thispine--which was the "scrub" or grey pine (_Pinus Banksiana)_ tomonopolise the ground wherever it grows. As Basil passed on, he noticedthat many of the trees were completely "barked, " particularly on thebranches; and small pieces of the bark lay scattered over the ground, asthough it had been peeled off and gnawed by some animal. He was walkingquietly on and thinking what creature could have made such a wreck, whenhe came to a place where the ground was covered with fine sand or dust. In this, to his astonishment, he observed what he supposed to be thetracks of human feet! They were not those of a man, but small tracks, resembling the footsteps of a child of three or four years of age. Hewas about stooping down to examine them more closely, when a voicesounded in his ears exactly like the cry of a child! This brought himsuddenly to an erect attitude again, and he looked all round to discoverwho or what had uttered that strange cry. He could see no one--child orman--and strange, too, for he had a clear view through the tree-trunksfor several hundred yards around. He was filled with curiosity, notunmixed with alarm; and, stepping forward a few paces, he was about tobend down and examine the tracks a second time, when the singular cryagain startled him. This time it was louder than before, as if he wascloser to whatever had uttered it, but Basil now perceived that itproceeded from above him. The creature from which it came was certainlynot upon the ground, but high up among the tops of the trees. He lookedup, and there, in the fork of one of the pines, he perceived a singularand hideous-looking animal--such as he had never before seen. It was ofa brown colour, about the size of a terrier-dog, with thick shaggy hair, and clumped up in the fork of the tree--so that its head and feet werescarcely distinguishable. Its odd appearance, as well as the peculiarcry which it had uttered, would have alarmed many a one of less couragethan our young hunter, and Basil was at first, as he afterwardsconfessed, "slightly flurried;" but a moment's reflection told him whatthe animal was--one of the most innocent and inoffensive of God'screatures--the Canada porcupine. It was this, then, that had barked thescrub-pines--for they are its favourite food; and it was its track--which in reality very much resembles that of a child--that Basil hadseen in the sand. 

The first thought of the young hunter was to throw up his rifle, andsend a bullet through the ungainly animal; which, instead of making anyeffort to escape, remained almost motionless, uttering, at intervals, its child-like screams. Basil, however, reflected that the report ofhis rifle would frighten any large game that might chance to be near;and as the porcupine was hardly worth a shot, he concluded, uponreflection, it would be better to leave it alone. He knew--for he hadheard Lucien say so--that he would find the porcupine at any time, wereit a week, or even a month after--for these creatures remain sometimes awhole winter in the same grove. He resolved, therefore, should no othergame turn up, to return for it; and, shouldering his rifle again, hecontinued his course through the woods. 

As he proceeded, the timber became thinner. The scrub-pines gave placeto poplar-trees, with here and there an undergrowth of willows. Thetrees stood far apart, and the willows grew only in clumps or "islands, "so that the view was nearly open for many hundred yards around. Basilwalked on with all the silence and watchfulness of a true "still"hunter--for, among backwoodsmen, this species of hunting is so called. He ascended a low hill, and keeping a tree in front of him, lookedcautiously over its crest. Before him, and stretching from the bottomof the hill, was a level tract of considerable extent. It was boundedon one side by the edge of the lake, and on all the others by thinwoods, similar to those through which the hunter had been for some timetravelling. Here and there, over the plain, there stood trees, farapart from each other, and in nowise intercepting the view for a mile ormore. The ground was clear of underwood, except along the immediateedge of the lake, which was fringed by a thicket of willows. 

As Basil looked over the hill, he espied a small group of animals nearthe interior border of the willows. He had never seen animals of thesame species before, but the genus was easily told. The tall antleredhorns, that rose upon the head of one of them, showed that they weredeer of some kind; and the immense size of the creature that bore them, together with his ungainly form, his long legs, and ass-like ears, hishuge head with its overhanging lip, his short neck with its standingmane, and, above all, the broad palmation of the horns themselves, leftBasil without any doubt upon his mind that the animals before him weremoose-deer--the largest, and perhaps the most awkward, of all the deerkind. The one with the antlers was the male or bull-moose. The otherswere the female and her two calves of the preceding year. The latterwere still but half-grown, and, like the female, were without the"branching horns" that adorned the head of the old bull. They were allof a dark-brown colour--looking blackish in the distance--but the largeone was darker than any of the others. 

Basil's heart beat high, for he had often heard of the great moose, butnow saw it for the first time. In his own country it is not found, asit is peculiarly a creature of the cold regions, and ranges no fartherto the south than the northern edge of the United States territory. Tothe north it is met with as far as timber grows--even to the shores ofthe Polar Sea! Naturalists are not certain, whether or not it be thesame animal with the elk (_Cervus alces_) of Europe. Certainly the twoare but little, if anything, different; but the name "elk" has beengiven in America to quite another and smaller species of deer--thewapiti (_Cervus Canadensis_). The moose takes its name from its Indianappellation, "moosoa, " or "wood-eater;" and this name is veryappropriate, as the animal lives mostly upon the leaves and twigs oftrees. In fact, its structure--like that of the camelopard--is suchthat it finds great difficulty in reaching grass, or any other herbage, except where the latter chances to be very tall, or grows upon thedeclivity of a very steep hill. When it wishes to feed upon grass, themoose usually seeks it in such situations; and it may often be seenbrowsing up the side of a hill, with its legs spread widely on bothsides of its neck. But its favourite food is found at a more convenientheight, and consists of the young shoots of many species of trees. Itprefers those of the poplar, the birch-tree, and willows, and one kindof these last, the red willow, is its particular favourite. The"striped" maple (_Acer striatum_) is also much relished by the moose--hence the name "moose-wood, " by which this tree is known among thehunters. It loves also the common water-lilies (_Nympha_); and insummer it may be seen wading out into lakes, and plucking up theirsucculent leaves. It takes to the water also for other purposes--tocool its body, and rid itself of several species of gnats and mosquitoesthat at this season torment it exceedingly. At such times it is moreeasily approached; and the Indians hunt it in their canoes, and kill itin the water, both with spears and arrows. They never find the moose, however, in large numbers--for it is a solitary animal, and onlyassociates in pairs during one part of the year, and in families atanother season--as Basil now found it. In winter the Indians track itthrough the snow, following it upon snow-shoes. These give them theadvantage of skimming along the surface, while the moose plunges throughthe deep drift, and is therefore impeded in its flight. Notwithstanding, it will frequently escape from the hunter, after a_chase of several days' duration_! Sometimes, in deep snow, a dozen ormore of these animals will be found in one place, where they have gotaccidentally together. The snow will be trodden down until the placeappears as if enclosed by a wall. This the hunters term a"moose-pound, " and when found in such situations the moose are easilyapproached and surrounded--when a general _battue_ takes place, in whichfew or none of the animals are allowed to escape. 

I have said that Basil's heart beat high at the sight of the moose. Hewas very desirous of killing one--partly on account of the novelty ofthe thing, and partly because he and his companions at the camp wereanxious for a change of diet. Moose-meat was the very thing; and heknew that if he could return to camp with a few pieces of this strungover his gun, he would receive a double welcome. He was well aware thatthe flesh of the moose was of the most savoury and delicate kind, andthat the long pendulous upper lip is one of the "tit-bits" of the furcountries. Moreover, the fine hide would be an acceptable addition totheir stock, as it is the best of all deerskins for mocassins, as wellas snow-shoes--articles which Basil knew would soon be needed. Forthese reasons he was unusually desirous of killing one of the moose. 

He knew it would be difficult to approach them. He had heard that theywere shyest at that very season--the beginning of winter--and indeedsuch is the case. No deer is so difficult to get a shot at as a moosein early winter. In summer it is not so--as then the mosquitoes tormentthese animals to such a degree that they pay less heed to other enemies, and the hunter can more easily approach them. In winter they are alwayson the alert. Their sense of smell--as well as of sight and hearing--isacute to an extreme degree, and they are cunning besides. They canscent an enemy a long distance off--if the wind be in their favour--andthe snapping of a twig, or the slightest rustle of the leaves, issufficient to start them off. In their journeyings through the snow, when they wish to rest themselves, they make a sort of _detour_, and, coming back, lie down near the track which they have already passedover. This gives them an opportunity of hearing any enemy that may befollowing upon their trail, and also of making off in a side-direction, while the latter will be looking steadfastly ahead for them. 

Basil had heard of all these tricks of the moose--for many an oldmoose-hunter had poured his tale into Basil's ear. He proceeded, therefore, with all due caution. He first buried his hand in hisgame-bag, and after a little groping brought out a downy feather whichhad chanced to be there. This he placed lightly upon the muzzle of hisrifle, and having gently elevated the piece above his head, watched thefeather. After a moment, the breeze carried it off, and Basil noted thedirection it took. This is called, in hunter phrase, "tossing thefeather, " and gave Basil the exact direction of the wind--an importantknowledge in the present case. To Basil's gratification he saw that itwas blowing down the lake, and nearly towards himself. He was notexactly to leeward of the moose; but, what was better still, the willowsthat fringed the lake were, for he could see them bending from the deer, as the breeze blew freshly. He knew he could easily get among thewillows; and as they were not yet quite leafless, and, moreover, wereinterspersed with tall reed-grass, they formed a tolerable cover underwhich he might make his approach. 

Without losing time, then, he made for the willows, and placing thembetween himself and the game, commenced "approaching" along the shore ofthe lake. 

He had a full half-hour's creeping--at one time upon his hands andknees--at another, crawling flat upon his breast like a gigantic lizard, and now and then, at favourable spots, walking in a bent attitude. Afull half-hour was he, and much pain and patience did it cost him, before getting within shot. But Basil was a hunter, and knew both howto endure the pain and practise the patience--virtues that, in huntingas well as in many other occupations, usually meet with their reward. And Basil was likely to meet with his, for on parting the leaves, andlooking cautiously through, he saw that he had arrived at the rightspot. Within fifty yards of him he saw the high shoulders of thebull-moose and his great flat antlers towering over the tops of thewillows, among the leaves of which the snout of the animal was buried. He also caught a glimpse of parts of the other three beyond; but hethought only of the bull, and it was upon him that he kept his eyesfixed. Basil did not think of the quality of the meat, else he wouldhave selected either the cow or one of the calves. Had it beenbuffaloes he would certainly have done so; but as he had never killed amoose, he was determined to slay the leader of the herd. 

Indeed, had he wished to shoot one of the others, it might not have beenso easy, as they were farther off, and he could only see the tops oftheir shoulders over the willows. Neither did the bull offer a fairmark. He stood face to face with the hunter, and Basil fancied that ashot on the frontal bone might not kill him. He knew it would not killa buffalo. There was only one other part at which he could aim--thefore-shoulder; and after waiting some moments for the animal to give hima fairer chance, he took aim at this and fired. He heard a loudcracking of hoofs, as the cow and calves shambled off over the plain, but he saw that the bull was not with them. He was down behind thewillows. No doubt he was dead. 

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN. 

ENCOUNTER WITH A MOOSE. 

What was a rare thing for Basil to do, he rushed forward withoutreloading his gun. A few springs brought him into the open ground, andin presence of the game. To his astonishment, the bull was not dead, nor down neither, but only upon his knees--of course wounded. Basil sawthe "crease" of the bullet along the neck of the animal as he drew near. It was only by a quick glance that he saw this, for as soon as the bullsaw him he rose to his full height--his eyes flashing like a tiger's--and setting his antlers in a forward position, sprang upon the hunter!Basil leaped aside to avoid the encounter; and in the first rush wassuccessful, but the animal turned suddenly, and, coming up a secondtime, raised his fore-feet high in the air, and struck forward with hislong-pointed hoofs. Basil attempted to defend himself with his rifle, but the piece was struck out of his hand in an instant. Once moreavoiding the forward rush of the infuriated beast, the young hunterlooked around for some object to save him. A tree fell under his eye, and he ran towards it with all his speed. The moose followed close uponhis heels, and he had just time to reach the tree and get around itstrunk, when the animal brushed past, tearing the bark with his sharpantlers. Basil now slipped round the trunk, and when the moose againturned himself the two were on opposite sides of the tree! The beast, however, rushed up, and struck the tree furiously first with his browantlers, and then with his hoofs, uttering loud snorts, and at intervalsa shrill whistling sound that was terrible to hear. The disappointmentwhich the enraged animal felt, at seeing his enemy thus escape him, seemed to have added to his rage; and he now vented his spite upon thetree, until the trunk, to the height of six feet, was completelystripped of its bark. While this was going on, Basil remained behindthe tree, "dodging" round as the moose manoeuvred, and taking carealways to have the animal on the opposite side. To have got into asafer situation he would have climbed the tree; but it happened to be apoplar, without a branch for many feet from the ground, and of too greata girth to be "embraced. " He could do nothing, therefore, but remainupon the ground, and keep the tree-trunk between himself and the bull. 

For nearly an hour this lasted, the moose now remaining at rest for afew minutes, and then making fresh onsets that seemed to abate nothingin their fury. His rage appeared to be implacable, and his vengeance astenacious as that of a tiger or any other beast of prey. The woundwhich the hunter had given him was no doubt painful, and kept hisresentment from cooling. Unfortunately, it was not a mortal wound, asBasil had every opportunity of seeing. The bullet had hit thefore-shoulder; but, after tearing along the skin, had glanced offwithout injuring the bone. It had only enraged the bull, withoutcrippling him in the least degree. Basil began to dread the result. Hewas becoming faint with fatigue as well as hunger. When would he berelieved? When would the fierce brute feel inclined to leave him?These were questions which the hunter put to himself repeatedly, withoutbeing able to divine an answer. He had heard of hunters being killed bywounded moose. He had heard that these creatures will remain for dayswatching a person whom they may have "treed. " He could not stand it fordays. He would drop down with fatigue, and then the bull would gore andtrample him at pleasure. Would they be able to trace him from the camp?They would not think of that before nightfall. They would not think ofhim as "lost" before that time; and then they could not follow his trailin the darkness, nor even in the light--for the ground was hard as arock, and he had made no footmarks. Marengo might trace him. The doghad been left at the camp, as Basil preferred "still-hunting" withouthim. But in his present situation the hunter's apprehensions werestronger than his hopes. Even Marengo might be baffled in lifting thescent. The trail was an exceedingly devious one, for Basil hadmeandered round the sides of the hill in search of game. Deer or otheranimals might have since crossed it, which might mislead the hound. Itwould be cold at night, and much colder next morning. There were manychances that no relief might reach him from the camp. Impressed withthis conviction, Basil began to feel serious alarm. Not despair, however--he was not the boy to despair. His mind only grew more aliveto the necessity for action. He looked around to discover some means ofescape. His gun lay not a hundred yards off. Could he only get hold ofthe piece, and return safely to the tree again, he could there load itand put at end to the scene at once. But to reach the gun wasimpossible. The moose would bound after and overtake him to acertainty. The idea of getting the gun was abandoned. 

In the opposite direction to that in which the gun lay, Basil perceivedthat there were other trees. The nearest was but a dozen yards fromhim; and others, again, grew at about the same distance from that one, and from each other. Basil now conceived the idea of escaping to thenearest, and from that to the next, and by this means getting back intothe thick forest. Once there, he believed that he would be the betterable to effect his escape, and perhaps reach the camp by dodging fromtree to tree. He could beat the moose for a dozen yards--getting alittle the start of him--and this he hoped to be able to do. Should hefail in his short race, however--should his foot slip--the alternativewas fearful. _It was no other than death_!

He knew that, but it did not change his resolution to make the attempt. He only waited for the animal to work round between him and the treetowards which he intended to run. You will wonder that he did notprefer to have the moose on the other side. But he did not, for thisreason--had the bull been there, he could have sprung after him at thefirst start; whereas, when heading the other way, Basil believed hecould brush close past, and gain an advantage, as the unwieldy brute, taken by surprise, would require some time in turning himself to givechase. 

The opportunity at length arrived; and nerving himself for the race, thehunter sprang past the moose, brushing the very tips of its antlers. Heran without either stopping or even looking back, until he had reachedthe tree, and sheltered himself behind its trunk. The moose hadfollowed, and arrived but the moment after, snorting and whistlingfuriously. Enraged at the _ruse_, it attacked this tree, as it had theother, with hoof and horns; and Basil nimbly evaded both by keeping onthe opposite side, as before. 

In a few minutes he prepared himself for a second rush, and once morestarted. A third tree was reached in safety--and then a fourth, and afifth, and many others, in a similar manner--the moose all the whilefollowing in hot pursuit. Basil had begun to hope that in this way hewould get off, when, to his chagrin, he saw that an open space stillintervened between him and the thick woods, upon which there were only afew trees, and those so small that not one of them would have shelteredhim. This tract was full two hundred yards in width, and extended allalong the edge of the thick forest. He dared not cross it. The moosewould overtake him before he could get half the way; and he was obligedto give up the idea of making the attempt. 

As he stood behind the last tree he had reached, he saw that itbranched, and the lowest branches grew but a little above his head. Hecould easily climb it, and at once resolved to do so. He would there besafe for the time, and could at least rest himself, for he was now weakwith fatigue. He, therefore, stretched up his hands, and, laying holdof a branch, swung himself up into the tree. Then climbing up a littlehigher, he sat down on one of the forks. 

The moose appeared as furious as ever; and ran round the tree, nowstriking it with his horns, and then rearing upon his hind-legs, andpouncing against the trunk with his hoofs. At times his snout was soclose to Basil, that the latter could almost touch it; and he had evendrawn his hunting-knife, and reached down with the intent of giving thecreature a stab. 

This last action led to a train of thought, and Basil seemed suddenly toadopt some new resolution. Leaving the fork where he had perchedhimself, he climbed higher up the tree; and, selecting one of thelongest and straightest branches, commenced cutting it off close to thetrunk. This was soon effected; and then, drawing it along his knee, hetrimmed off all the twigs and tops until the branch became a straightpole, like a spear-handle. Along one end of this he laid the handle ofhis knife; and with thongs, which he had already cut out of the strap ofhis bullet-pouch, he spliced the knife and pole together. This gave hima formidable weapon--for the knife was a "bowie, " and had a long blade, with a point like a rapier. He was not slow in using it. Descendingagain to the lowermost limbs, he commenced making demonstrations, inorder to bring the moose within reach. This he very soon succeeded indoing; and the animal ran forward and reared up against the tree. Before it could get upon its four legs again, Basil had thrust it in theneck, giving full force to the blow. The blood rushed forth in a thickstream, as the jugular vein had been cut by the keen blade; and the hugebrute was seen to totter in its steps, and then fall with a dull heavysound to the earth. In a few moments the hunter had the satisfaction ofperceiving that it was quite dead. 

Basil now dropped out of the tree, and walking back to where his riflelay, took up the piece and carefully reloaded it. He then returned tothe moose, and opening the great jaws of the animal, gagged them with astick. He next unspliced his knife, took off the gristly lips, and cutout the tongue. These he placed in his game-bag, and shouldering hisrifle, was about to depart; when some new idea caused him to halt, putdown his gun, and again unsheath his knife. Once more approaching thecarcass, he made an incision near the kidneys; and having inserted hishand, drew forth what appeared to be a part of the intestines. It wasthe bladder. He then looked around as if in search of something. Presently his eye rested upon some tall reed-grass that was growingnear. This was just what he wanted, and, pulling up one of the stems, he cut and fashioned it into a pipe. With this the moose-bladder wasblown out to its full dimensions, and tied at the neck by a piece ofthong. The other end of the thong was fastened to one of the branchesof the tree above, so that the bladder dangled within a few feet of thecarcass of the moose, dancing about with the lightest breath of wind. All these precautions Basil had taken to keep the wolves from devouringthe moose--for it was his intention to return and butcher it, as soon ashe could get help. When he had hung the bladder to his liking, he putup his knife again; and, once more shouldering his rifle, walked off. 

On reaching the camp--which he did shortly after--the tongue of themoose was broiled without delay, and, after making a delicious meal ofit, the whole party went off for the remainder of the meat. They foundit all quite safe; although, had it not been for the bladder, not muchof it would have been there--as no less than a dozen great gaunt wolveswere seen lurking about, and these would have eaten it up in theshortest possible time. The bladder, however, had kept them off; for, strange to say, these creatures, who are as cunning as foxes, and canhardly be trapped, can yet be deceived and frightened by such a simplething as a bladder dangling from a branch. 

The moose proved to be one of the largest of his kind. His height wasquite equal to that of a horse; and his horns, flattened out to thebreadth of shovels, weighed over sixty pounds. His carcass was not lessthan fifteen hundred pounds weight; and our voyageurs had to make twojourneys to convey the meat to their camp. On the last journey, Francois brought the porcupine as well--having found it on the very sametree where Basil had left it!

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT. 

LIFE IN A LOG-HUT. 

The log-hut was finished on the 1st of September, and not a day toosoon; for on that very day the winter set in with full severity. Aheavy fall of snow came down in the night; and next morning, when ourvoyageurs looked abroad, the ground was covered to the depth of a foot, or more; and the ice upon the lake was also white. Walking through thegreat wreaths now became very difficult; and the next thing to be donewas the making of "snow-shoes. "

Snow-shoes are an invention of the Indians; and, in the winter of theArctic regions of America, are an article almost as indispensable asclothing itself. Without them, travelling afoot would be impossible. In these countries, as already stated, the snow often covers the groundto the depth of many feet; and remains without any considerablediminution for six, and, in some years, eight or nine months. At times, it is frozen hard enough on the surface to bear a man without thesnow-shoes; but oftener on account of thaws and fresh falls, it becomesquite soft, and at such times travelling over it is both difficult anddangerous. To avoid both the difficulty and the danger, the Indiansmake use of this _very_ singular sort of foot-wear--called "snow-shoes"by the English, and "raquets" by the Canadian voyageurs. They are usedby all the Indian tribes of the Hudson's Bay territory; and were it notfor them these people would be confined to one place for monthstogether, and could not follow the deer or other game. As almost allsavages are improvident, and none more so than the North AmericanIndians, were they prevented for a season from going out to hunt, wholetribes would starve. Indeed, many individuals of them perish withhunger as it is; and the life of all these Indians is nothing more thanone continued struggle for food enough to sustain them. In summer theyare often in the midst of plenty; slaughtering deer and buffalo byhundreds, taking out only the tongues, and recklessly leaving the fleshto the wolves! In winter the very same Indians may be seen without apound of meat in their encampment--the lives of themselves and theirfamilies depending upon the success of a single day's hunt!

But let us return to the snow-shoes. Let us see what they are, andlearn how they are made. 

Any boy who has snared sparrows in snow-time, has, no doubt, done so bytying his snares upon a hoop netted across with twine or other smallcord. Now, if he will conceive his hoop bent into an oblong shape--something like what the figure of a boat turned on its mouth would makein snow--and if he will also fancy the netting to consist of thongs oftwisted deer-hide woven somewhat closely together, he will get a verygood idea of an Indian snow-shoe. It is usually from three to four feetlong, by about a foot wide at the middle part, from which it tapersgently to a point, both at the heel and toe. The frame, as I have said, is like the hoop of a boy's bird-snare. It is made of light, toughwood, and, of course, carefully bent and polished with the knife. Theslender branches of the "scrub-pine" (_Pinus Banksiana_) are esteemedexcellent for this purpose, as their wood is light, flexible and toughin its fibres. This is also a favourite tree, where it grows, to maketent-poles, canoe-timbers, and other implements required by the Indians;and these people use so much of it for their arrows, that it hasreceived from the Canadian voyageurs the name of _bois de fleche_(arrow-wood). 

Well, then, the frame of the snow-shoes being bent to its proper shape, two transverse bars are placed across near the middle, and severalinches from each other. They are for the foot to rest upon, as well asto give strength to the whole structure. These being made fast, thenetting is woven on, and extends over the whole frame, with theexception of a little space in front of the bars where the ball of thefoot is to rest. This space is left free of netting, in order to allowplay to the toes while walking. The mesh-work is made of thongs usuallycut from the parchment-skin of a deer, and twisted. Sometimes twistedintestines are used, and the netting exactly resembles that seen in"racquets" for ball play. 

The snow-shoe, when finished, is simply fastened upon the foot by meansof straps or thongs; and a pair of them thus placed, will present asurface to the snow of nearly six square feet--more, if required, bymaking them larger. But this is enough to sustain the heaviest man uponthe softest snow, and an Indian thus "shod" will skim over the surfacelike a skater. 

The shoes used by all tribes of Indians are not alike in shape. Thereare fashions and fancies in this respect. Some are made--as among theChippewa Indians--with one side of the frame nearly straight; and these, of course, will not do for either foot, but are "rights and lefts. "Generally, however, the shape is such that the snow-shoe will fit eitherfoot. 

The snow-shoes having now become a necessary thing, our young voyageursset about making a complete set for the whole party--that is, no lessthan four pairs. Norman was the "shoemaker, " and Norman knew how. Hecould splice the frames, and work in the netting, equal to an Indiansquaw. Of course all the others assisted him. Lucien cut themoose-skin into fine regular strips; Basil waded off through the snow, and procured the frames from the wood of the scrub-pine-trees where hehad encountered the porcupine; and then he and Francois trimmed themwith their knives, and sweated them in the hot ashes until they becamedry, and ready for the hands of the "shoemaker. "

This work occupied them several days, and then each had a pair of shoesfitted to his size and weight. 

The next consideration was, to lay in a stock of meat. The moose hadfurnished them with enough for present use, but that would not lastlong, as there was no bread nor anything else to eat with it. Personsin their situation require a great deal of meat to sustain them, muchmore than those who live in great cities, who eat a variety ofsubstances, and drink many kinds of drinks. The healthy voyageur israrely without a keen appetite; and meat by itself is a food thatspeedily digests, and makes way for a fresh meal; so that the rationusually allowed to the _employes_ of the fur companies would appearlarge enough to supply the table of several families. For instance, insome parts of the Hudson's Bay territory, the voyageur is allowed eightpounds of buffalo-meat _per diem_! And yet it is all eaten by him, andsometimes deemed barely sufficient. A single deer, therefore, or even abuffalo, lasts a party of voyageurs for a very short time, since theyhave no other substance, such as bread or vegetables, to help it out. It was necessary, then, that our travellers should use all theirdiligence in laying up a stock of dried meat, before the winter becametoo cold for them to hunt. There was another consideration--theirclothing. They all had clothing sufficient for such weather as they hadyet experienced; but that would never do for the winter of the GreatSlave Lake, and they knew it. Many deer must be killed, and many hidesdressed, before they could make a full set of clothing for all, as wellas a set of deerskin blankets, which would be much needed. 

As soon as the snow-shoes were finished, therefore, Basil and Normanwent out each day upon long hunting expeditions, from which they rarelyreturned before nightfall. Sometimes they brought with them a deer, ofthe caribou or reindeer species, and the "woodland" variety, which wereplenty at this place. They only carried to camp the best parts with theskin, as the flesh of the woodland caribou is not much esteemed. It islarger than the other kind--the "Barren Ground caribou, " weighing aboutone hundred and fifty pounds; but both its venison and hide are ofinferior quality to those of the latter species. Sometimes our hunterskilled smaller game; and on several occasions they returned withouthaving emptied their guns at all. But there was one day that made upfor several--one grand day when they were extremely successful, and onwhich they killed a whole herd of moose, consisting of fiveindividuals--the old bull, a spike buck--that is, a young buck, whosehorns had not yet got antlers upon them--the cow, and two calves. Thesethey had tracked and followed for a long distance, and had succeeded, atlength, in running into a valley where the snow was exceedingly deep, and where the moose became entangled. There had been a shower of rainthe day before that had melted the surface of the snow; and this hadagain frozen into an icy crust, upon which the deer lacerated theirankles at every plunge, leaving a track of blood behind them as theyran. Under these circumstances they were easily trailed, and Basil andNorman, skimming along upon their snow-shoes, soon came up with them, and shot first one and then another, until the whole herd were stretchedin the valley. They then butchered them, and hung the hides andquarters upon high branches, so as to secure them from wolves andwolverenes. When the job was finished, the whole place looked like agreat slaughter-yard! Next day a rude sledge was constructed; and thevoyageurs, returning in full force, transported the meat to camp. Hugefires were kindled outside the hut, and several days were spent incutting up and drying the flesh. Had our travellers been certain thatthe frost would have continued all winter, this would not have beennecessary--since the meat was already frozen as hard as a brick. Butthey knew that a sudden thaw would spoil it; and, as there was plenty ofgood firewood on the spot, they were not going to run the risk of losingit in that way. 

They had now enough provision to last them for months; and huntingbecame no longer necessary, except to obtain fresh meat--which was, ofcourse, preferable to the dry stock. Hunting, also, gave them exerciseand amusement--both of which were necessary to their health; for toremain idle and inactive in a situation such as that in which they wereplaced is the worst possible plan, and is sure to engender both sicknessand _ennui_. Indeed, the last grew upon them, notwithstanding all thepains they took to prevent it. There were days on which the cold was soextreme, that they could not put their noses out of the door without thedanger of having them frost-bitten--although each had now a completesuit of deerskin clothing, made by Lucien, the "tailor" of the party. Upon such days they were fain to remain shut up in their hut; and, seated around their huge log-fire, they passed the time in cleaningtheir guns, mending their nets, stitching their clothes, and such-likeemployments. These days were far from being their dullest; for, whatwith the varied and scientific knowledge of Lucien, which he tookpleasure in imparting to his companions--what with the practicalexperience of Norman amid scenes of Arctic life, and the many "voyageurtales" he could tell--what with Francois' merry jokes and _bon mots_--and what with Basil's _talent for listening_--not the least importantelement in a good _conversazione_, --our _quartette_ of young voyageursfound their indoor days anything but dull. 

This was all well enough for a while. For a month or two they boretheir odd kind of life cheerfully enough; but the prospect of nearly sixmonths more of it began to appal them, when they reflected upon it; andthey soon found themselves longing for a change. Hunting adventures, that at other times would have interested them, now occurred withoutcreating any excitement; and the whole routine of their employmentsseemed monotonous. Nearly all of them were boys of an active characterof mind; and most of them were old enough to reason about the value oftime. Their idea of such a long isolation from civilised life, and, above all, the being debarred from following any useful pursuit, beganto impress some of them forcibly. Others, as Francois, could not becontented for a very great stretch of time with any sort of life; sothat all of them began to sigh for a change. 

One day, while conversing upon this theme, a bold proposal was made byBasil. It was, that they should "strike camp, " and continue theirjourney. This proposal took the others by surprise, but they were alljust in the frame of mind to entertain and discuss it; and a longconsultation was held upon the point. Francois chimed in with theproposal at once; while Lucien, more cautious, did not exactly oppose, but rather offered the reasons that were against it, and pointed out theperils of the undertaking. Norman, of course, was appealed to--all ofthem looking to him as one whose advice, upon that question at least, was more valuable than their own. 

Norman admitted the dangers pointed out by Lucien, but believed thatthey might overcome them by a proper caution. On the whole, Normanapproved of the plan, and it was at length adopted. Perhaps Norman'shabitual prudence was to some extent influenced on this occasion by thevery natural desire he had of returning to what he considered his home. He had now been absent nearly two years, and was desirous of once moreseeing his father and his old companions at the Fort. There was anotherfeeling that influenced nearly all of them: that was _ambition_. Theyknew that to make such a journey would be something of a feat, and theywished to have the credit of performing it. To minds like that ofBasil, even the danger had something attractive in it. It was resolvedthen to break up the encampment, and continue their journey. 

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE. 

TRAVELLING ON SNOW-SHOES. 

Once their resolution was taken, they lost but little time in makingpreparations to carry it out. Most of the articles required for such ajourney were already in their hands. They had the proper dresses--snow-shoes, skin-blankets, and gloves. They had prepared for themselvessets of "snow spectacles. " These were made out of red cedar-wood. Eachpair consisted of two small thin pieces, that covered the eyes, joinedtogether and fastened on by thongs of buckskin. In each piece an oblongslit served for the eye-hole, through which the eye looked without beingdazzled by the snow. Without this, or some like contrivance, travellingin the Arctic regions is painful to the eyes, and the traveller oftenloses his sight. Indeed, one of the most common infirmities of both theIndians and Esquimaux of these parts is blindness or soreness of theeyes, caused by the reflexion of the sunbeams from the crystals of thefrozen snow. Norman was aware of this, and had made the spectacles toguard against this peril. Out of their spare skins they had made asmall tent. This was to be carried along by Marengo in a light sledge, which they had long since constructed, and taught the dog to draw. Nothing else remained but to pack their provisions in the smallest bulkpossible, and this was done, according to the custom of the country, bymaking "pemmican. " The dry meat was first pounded until it became apowder; it was then put into small skin bags, made for the purpose, andthe hot melted fat was poured in and well mixed with it. This soonfroze hard, and the mixture--that resembled "potted meat, "--was nowready for use, and would keep for an indefinite time without the leastdanger of spoiling. Buffalo-beef, moose-meat, or venison of any sort, thus prepared, is called "_pemmican_, " and is more portable in thisshape than any other. Besides no further cooking is required--animportant consideration upon those vast prairie deserts, where firewoodis seldom to be procured without the trouble of carrying it a greatdistance. 

Norman, who was the maker of the pemmican, had produced a superiorarticle upon this occasion. Besides the pounded meat and fat, he hadmixed another ingredient with it, which rendered it a most deliciousfood. This third ingredient was a small purple-coloured berry--of whichwe have already spoken--not unlike the whortleberry, but sweeter and ofa higher flavour. It grows through most of the Northern regions ofAmerica; and in some places, as upon the Red River and the Elk, thebushes that produce it are seen in great plenty. When in flower, theyappear almost white, so thickly are they covered with blossoms. Theleaves are small, and generally of an oval shape; but there are severalvarieties of the bush, some of them having the dimensions and form oftrees, of twenty-five feet in height. The berries have receiveddifferent names in different parts of America. They are known as"shadberries", "June-berries", "service-berries, " and by the Canadianvoyageurs they are called "le poire. " Even the botanists have giventhem a great variety of names, as _pyrus, mespilus, aronia, crataegus_, and _amelanchier_. No matter which may be the best name, it is enoughto know that these little berries are delicious to eat when fresh, andwhen dried, after the manner of currants, are excellent to mix inpuddings, as well as in pemmican. 

Previous to the setting in of winter, our voyageurs had collected alarge bagful upon the banks of the Elk, which they had dried and storedaway--expecting to stand in need of them for this very purpose. Theynow came into use, and enabled Norman to make his pemmican of the verychoicest quality. Five bags of it were put up, each weighing overthirty pounds. One of these was to be drawn upon the sledge, along withthe tent, the axe, and a few other articles. The rest were to becarried by the voyageurs themselves--each shouldering one, which, alongwith their guns and accoutrements, would be load enough. 

These arrangements being at length complete, the party bid adieu totheir log-hut--gave a parting look to their little canoe, which stillrested by the door--and then, shouldering their guns and bags ofpemmican, set out over the frozen surface of the snow. 

Of course before starting they had decided upon the route they were totake. This decision, however, had not been arrived at until after muchdiscussion. Lucien advised that they should follow the shore of thelake until they should reach the Mackenzie River--which of course wasnow frozen up. Its channel, he argued, would then guide them; and, incase their provisions should run short, they would be more likely tofind game upon its banks than elsewhere, as these were wooded almost tothe sea--in consequence of its head-waters rising in southern latitudes, and carrying with them a warmer climate. 

There was plausibility in Lucien's argument, combined with muchprudence. Norman, however, advised a contrary course. He said thatthey would have to make a considerable journey westward before reachingthe place where the Mackenzie River flows out of the lake; and, moreover, he knew that the river itself was very crooked--in some placeswinding about in great curves, whose ends come near meeting each other. Should they keep the course of the river, Norman believed it wouldalmost double their journey. A much shorter route, he said, would beobtained by striking across the country in a north-westerly direction, so as to reach the Mackenzie near where another great stream--the Riverof the Mountains--empties into it from the west. This would certainlybe a more direct route, and they would avoid the windings of the riverchannel. 

Norman's reasoning prevailed. Basil and Francois readily agreed to hisplan, and Lucien at length also gave his assent, but with somereluctance. Norman knew nothing whatever of the route he was advisingthem to take. His former journeys up and down the Mackenzie had beenmade in summer, and of course he had travelled by canoe, in company withthe traders and voyageurs. He only knew that to strike across thecountry would be the shorter way. But "the shortest way is not alwaysthe nearest, " says the proverb; and although Lucien remembered thisprudent maxim, the others did not give it a thought. Before the end oftheir journey they received a practical lesson of its wisdom--a lessonthey were not likely to forget. But they knew not what was before them, and they started off in high spirits. 

Their first three or four days' journeys were without any event worthbeing chronicled. They travelled full twenty miles each day. TheSoutherners had become quite skilful in the management of theirsnow-shoes, and they skimmed along upon the icy crust at the rate ofthree or four miles an hour. Marengo and his sledge gave them verylittle trouble. There was full sixty pounds weight upon it; but to thehuge dog this was a mere bagatelle, and he pulled it after him withoutany great strain. His harness was neatly made of moose-skin, andconsisted of a collar with a back strap and traces--the traces meetingbehind, where they were attached to the head of the sledge. Nohead-gear was necessary, as Marengo needed not to be either led ordriven. The sledge consisted of two or three light planks of smoothwood, laid alongside each other, and held together by transverse bands. In front it turned up with a circular sweep, so as not to "plough" thesnow; and at the top of this curved part the traces were adjusted. Theload was, of course, carefully packed and tied, so that the overturningof the vehicle did no damage whatever, and it could be easily rightedagain. Marengo required no one to guide him, but followed quietly inthe tracks of the snow-shoes, and thus avoided the trees, rocks, andother inequalities. If a rabbit or other creature started up, Marengoknew better than to go galloping after it; he felt that he had a moreimportant duty to perform than to throw away his time uponrabbit-hunting. Each night a spot was chosen for the camp by the sideof some lake or stream, where wood could be obtained for their fire. Water was got by breaking a hole in the ice, and the little tent wasalways set up in a sheltered situation. 

Upon the fifth day after leaving the log-hut the woods began to growthinner and more straggling; and towards night of the same day theyfound themselves travelling through a country, where the timber onlygrew here and there in small clumps, and the individual trees were smalland stunted. Next day still less timber was seen upon their route; andwhen camping-time came, they were obliged to halt at a spot wherenothing but willows could be procured for their fire. They had, infact, arrived upon the edge of that vast wilderness, the Barren Grounds, which stretches in all its wild desolation along the Northern half ofthe American continent, (from the Great Slave Lake even to the shores ofthe Arctic Sea on the north, and to those of Hudson's Bay on the east). This territory bears an appropriate name, for, perhaps, upon the wholesurface of the earth there is no tract more barren or desolate--not eventhe Sahara of Africa. Both are deserts of immense extent, equallydifficult to cross, and equally dangerous to the traveller. On both thetraveller often perishes, but from different causes. On the Sahara itis _thirst_ that kills; upon the Barren Grounds _hunger_ is morefrequently the destroyer. In the latter there is but little to befeared on the score of water. That exists in great plenty; or where itis not found, snow supplies its place. But there is water everywhere. Hill succeeds hill, bleak, rocky, and bare. Everywhere granite, gneiss, or other primitive rocks, show themselves. No vegetation covers thesteep declivities of the hills, except the moss and lichen upon therocks, a few willows upon the banks of streams, the dwarf birch-tree(_Betula nana_), or the scrub-pines, rising only to the height of a fewinches, and often straggling over the earth like vines. Every hill hasits valley, and every valley its lake--dark, and deep, and silent--inwinter scarce to be distinguished under the snow-covered ice. Theprospect in every direction exhibits a surface of rocks, or bleak hills, half covered with snow. The traveller looks around and sees no life. He listens and hears no sound. The world appears dead and wrapped inits cold winding-sheet!

Amidst just such scenes did our voyageurs find themselves on the seventhday after parting from the lake. They had heard of the BarrenGrounds, --had heard many fearful stories of the sufferings of travellerswho had attempted to cross them; but the description had fallen farshort of the actual reality. None of them could believe in thedifficulties to be encountered, and the desolateness of the scene theywere to witness, until now that they found themselves in its midst; and, as they proceeded on their journey, getting farther and farther from thewooded region, their apprehensions, already aroused by the wild aspectof the country, grew stronger and stronger. They began to entertainserious fears, for they knew not how far the barren tract extended alongtheir route. On calculation they found they had provisions enough tolast them for a month. That in some measure restored their confidence;but even then, they could not help giving way to serious reflections. Should they get lost or retarded in their course by mountains, or otherobstacles, it might take them longer than a month to reach some placewhere game was to be met with. Each day, as they advanced, they foundthe country more hilly and difficult. Precipices often bounded thevalleys, lying directly across their track; and as these could not bescaled, it was necessary to make long _detours_ to pass them, so thatsome days they actually advanced less than five miles upon theirjourney. 

Notwithstanding these impediments, they might still have got over theBarren Grounds without further suffering than the fatigue and necessaryexposure to cold; but at this time an incident occurred, that not onlyfrustrated all their calculations, but placed them in imminent danger ofperishing. 

CHAPTER THIRTY. 

THE BARREN GROUNDS. 

The Barren Grounds are not entirely destitute of animal life. Even inwinter--when they are almost covered with snow, and you would supposethat no living creature could procure subsistence upon them--even thenthey have their denizens; and, strange to say, there are many animalsthat choose them for their home. There is no part of the earth'ssurface so sterile but that some animated being can find a living uponit, and such a being Nature adapts to its peculiar situation. Forinstance, there are animals that prefer the very desert itself, andwould not thrive were you to place them in a country of mild climate andfertile soil. In our own species this peculiarity is also found--as theEsquimaux would not be happy were you to transplant him from his icy hutamidst the snows of the Arctic regions, and give him a palace under thegenial skies of Italy. 

Among other creatures that remain all winter upon the Barren Grounds, are the wolves. How they exist there is almost a question of thenaturalists. It is true they prey upon other animals found at times inthe same district; but wolves have been met with where not the slightesttraces of other living creatures could be seen!

There is no animal more generally distributed over the earth's surfacethan the wolf. He exists in nearly every country, and most likely hasat one time existed in all. In America there are wolves in its threezones. They are met with from Cape Horn to the farthest point northwardthat man has reached. They are common in the tropical forests of Mexicoand South America. They range over the great prairies of the temperatezones of both divisions of the continent, and in the colder regions ofthe Hudson's Bay territory they are among the best known of wildanimals. They frequent the mountains, they gallop over the plains, theyskulk through the valleys, they dwell everywhere--everywhere the wolfseems equally at home. In North America two very different kinds areknown. One is the "prairie" or "barking" wolf, which we have alreadymet with and described. The other species is the "common" or "large"wolf; but it is not decided among naturalists that there are not severaldistinct species of the latter. At all events, there are severalvarieties of it--distinguished from each other in size, colour, and evento some extent in form. The habits of all, however, appear to besimilar, and it is a question, whether any of these varieties be_permanent_ or only _accidental_. Some of them, it is well-known, areaccidental--as wolves differing in colour have been found in the samelitter--but late explorers, of the countries around and beyond the RockyMountains, have discovered one or two kinds that appear to bespecifically distinct from the common wolf of America--one of them, the"dusky wolf, " being much larger. 

This last is said to resemble the wolf of Europe (the Pyrenean wolf, _Canis lupus_) more than the other American wolves do--for there is aconsiderable difference between the wolves of the two continents. Thoseof the Northern regions of America have shorter ears, a broader snoutand forehead, and are of a stouter make, than the European wolves. Their fur, too, is finer, denser, and longer; their tails more bushy andfox-like; and their feet broader. The European wolf, on the contrary, is characterised by a gaunt appearance, a pointed snout, long jaws, highears, long legs, and feet very narrow. It is possible, notwithstandingthese points of difference, that both may be of the same species, thedifference arising from a want of similitude in the circumstances bywhich they are surrounded. For instance, the dense wool of the Hudson'sBay wolf may be accounted for by the fact of its colder habitat, and itsbroader feet may be the result of its having to run much upon thesurface of the snow. The writer of this little book believes that thispeculiar adaptation of Nature--which may be observed in all herkingdoms--may explain the difference that exists between the wolves ofthe Northern parts of America and those of the South of Europe. Hebelieves, moreover, that those of the Southern parts of the Americancontinent approximate more nearly to the Pyrenean wolves, as he has seenin the tropical forests of Mexico some that possessed all that "gaunt"form and "sneaking" aspect that characterise the latter. It would beinteresting to inquire whether the wolves of Siberia and Lapland, inhabiting a similar climate to that of the Northern parts of America, do not possess the same peculiarities as the North American kind--apoint which naturalists have not yet considered, and which you, my boyreader, may some day find both amusement and instruction in determiningfor yourself. 

With regard to colour the wolves of both continents exhibit manyvarieties. In North America there are more than half-a-dozen colours ofthem, all receiving different names. There is the "grey wolf, " the"white, " the "brown, " the "dusky, " the "pied, " and the "black. " Thesetrivial names will give a good enough idea of the colours of each kind, but there are even varieties in their markings. "Yellow" wolves, too, have been seen, and "red" ones, and some of a "cream colour. " Of allthese the grey wolf is the most common, and is _par excellence thewolf_; but there are districts in which individuals of other colourspredominate. Wolves purely black are plenty in many parts, and whitewolves are often seen in large packs. 

Even those of the same colour differ in size, and that to a considerableextent. And, what is also strange, large wolves will be found in onedistrict of country, while much smaller ones _of the same colour andspecies_ inhabit another. The largest in size of American wolves areabout six feet in length, the tail included; and about three feet inheight, measuring to the tips of the standing fur. The tail is usuallyabout one-third of the whole length. 

The habits of the American wolf are pretty much like those of hisEuropean cousin. He is a beast of prey, devouring all the smalleranimals he can lay hold of. He pursues and overtakes the deer, andoften runs down the fox and makes a meal of it. He will kill and eatIndian dogs, although these are so near his own species that the one isoften taken for the other. But this is not all, for he will even eathis own kind, on a pinch. He is as cunning as the fox himself, and ascowardly; but at times, when impelled by hunger, he becomes bolder, andhas been known to attack man. Instances of this kind, however, arerare. 

The American wolves burrow, and, like the fox, have several entrances totheir holes. A litter of young wolves numbers five puppies, but as manyas eight are often produced at one birth. 

During their journey through the Barren Grounds our voyageurs hadfrequently observed wolves. They were mostly grey ones, and of greatsize, for they were travelling through a district where the very largestkind is found. At times they saw a party of five or six together; andthese appeared to be following upon their trail--as each night, whenthey came barking about the camp, our travellers recognised some of themas having been seen before. They had made no attempt to shoot any ofthem--partly because they did not want either their skins or flesh, andpartly because their ammunition had been reduced to a small quantity, and they did not wish to spend it unnecessarily. The wolves, therefore, were allowed to approach very near the camp, and howl as much as theyliked--which they usually did throughout the livelong night. What theyfound to allure them after our travellers, the latter could not makeout; as they had not shot an animal of any kind since leaving the lake, and scarcely a scrap of anything was ever left behind them. Perhaps thewolves were _living upon hope_. 

One evening our travellers had made their camp on the side of a ridge--which they had just crossed--and under the shelter of some rough rocks. There was no wood in the neighbourhood wherewith to make a fire; butthey had scraped the snow from the place over which their tent waspitched, and under it their skins were spread upon the ground. As thetent was a very small one, Marengo's sledge, with the utensils andpemmican bags, was always left outside close by the opening. Marengohimself slept there, and that was considered sufficient to secure allthese things from wolves, or any other creatures that might be prowlingabout. 

On the evening in question, the sledge was in its usual place--the doghaving been taken from it--and as our voyageurs had not yet had theirsupper, the pemmican bags were lying loosely about, one or two of thembeing open. There was a small rivulet at the foot of the ridge--sometwo hundred paces distant--and Basil and Francois had gone down to it toget water. One of them took the axe to break the ice with, while theother carried a vessel. On arriving near the bank of the rivulet, theattention of the boys was attracted to a singular appearance upon thesnow. A fresh shower had fallen that morning, and the surface was stillsoft, and very smooth. Upon this they observed double lines of littledots, running in different directions, which, upon close inspection, appeared to be the tracks of some animal. At first, Basil and Francoiscould hardly believe them to be such, the tracks were so very small. They had never seen so small ones before--those of a mouse being quitedouble the size. But when they looked more closely at them, the boyscould distinguish the marks of five little toes with claws upon them, which left no doubt upon their minds that some living creature, and thata very diminutive one, must have passed over the spot. Indeed, had thesnow not been both fine-grained and soft, the feet of such a creaturecould not have made any impression upon it. 

The boys stopped and looked around, thinking they might see the animalitself. There was a wide circle of snow around them, and its surfacewas smooth and level; but not a speck upon it betrayed the presence ofany creature. 

"Perhaps it was a bird, " said Francois, "and has taken flight. "

"I think not, " rejoined Basil. "They are not the tracks of a bird. Itis some animal that has gone under the snow, I fancy. "

"But I see no hole, " said Francois, "where even a beetle could have gonedown. Let us look for one. "

At Francois' suggestion, they walked on following one of the dottedlines. Presently they came to a place, where a stalk of long grassstood up through the snow--its seedless panicle just appearing above thesurface. Round this stalk a little hole had been formed--partly by themelting of the snow, and partly by the action of the wind upon thepanicle--and into this hole the tracks led. It was evident that theanimal, whatever it was, must have gone down the culm of the grass inmaking its descent from the surface of the snow! They now observedanother track going from the hole in an opposite direction, which showedthat the creature had climbed up in the same way. Curious to know whatit might have been, the boys hailed Lucien and Norman, telling them tocome down. These, followed by Marengo, soon arrived upon the spot. When Lucien saw the tracks, he pronounced them at once to be those ofthe little shrew-mouse (_Sorex parvus_), the smallest of all thequadrupeds of America. Several of them had evidently been out upon thesnow--as there were other dotted lines--and the tops of many stalks ofgrass were seen above the surface, each of which had formed a littlehole around it, by which the mice were enabled to get up and down. 

Norman, who had seen these little animals before, cautioned hiscompanions to remain quiet awhile, and perhaps some of them might cometo the surface. They all stopped therefore, and stood some time withoutmoving, or speaking to one another. Presently, a little head not muchbigger than a pea was seen peeping up, and then a body followed, whichin size did not exceed that of a large gooseberry! To this a tail wassuspended, just one inch in length, of a square shape, and tapering fromroot to point, like that of any other mouse. The little creature wascovered with a close smooth fur, of a clove-brown colour above, but moreyellowish upon the belly and sides; and was certainly, as it sat uponthe even surface of the snow, the most diminutive and oddest-lookingquadruped that any of the party had ever beheld. 

They were just whispering to one another what means they should use tocapture it, when Marengo, whom Basil had been holding quiet, all at onceuttered a loud bay; and, springing out of the hands of his master, galloped off towards the camp. All of them looked after, wondering whathad started the dog; but his strange behaviour was at once explained, and to their consternation. Around the tent, and close to its entrance, several large wolves were seen. They were leaping about hurriedly, andworrying some objects that lay upon the ground. What these objects werewas too plain. They were _the bags of pemmican_! Part of theircontents was seen strewed over the snow, and part was already in thestomachs of the wolves. 

The boys uttered a simultaneous shout, and ran forward. Marengo was bythis time among the wolves, and had set fiercely upon one of them. Hadhis masters not been at hand, the fierce brutes would soon have settledthe account with Marengo. But the former were now close by, and thewolves, seeing them, ran off; but, to the consternation of the boys, each of them carried off a bag of the pemmican in his mouth with as muchlightness and speed as if nothing encumbered them!

"We are lost!" cried Norman, in a voice of terror. "Our provisions aregone!--all gone!"

It was true. The next moment the wolves disappeared over the summit ofthe ridge; and although each of the boys had seized his gun, and ranafter, the pursuit proved an idle one. Not a wolf was overtaken. 

Scarce a scrap of the pemmican had been left--only some fragments thathad been gnawed by the ravenous brutes, and scattered over the snow. That night our travellers went to bed supperless; and, what with hunger, and the depression of spirits caused by this incident, one and all ofthem kept awake nearly the whole of the night. 

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE. 

THE ROCK-TRIPE. 

They left their skin-couch at an early hour, close after daybreak. Hunger and anxiety drove them out of their tent. Not a morsel ofanything for breakfast! They looked abroad over the country, in order, if possible, to descry some living creature. None could be seen--nothing but the wilderness waste of snow, with here and there the sideof a steep hill, or a rock showing cold and bleak. Even the wolves thathad robbed them were no longer to be seen, as if these creatures knewthat they had got all that was worth having, and had now takenthemselves off to hunt for plunder elsewhere. 

The situation of our travellers was really one of extreme peril, although it may be difficult for you, young reader, to conceive why itshould be so. They, however, knew it well. They knew that they mighttravel for days through that inhospitable region, without falling inwith anything that would make a single meal for them. But less timethan that would suffice to starve them all. Already they felt the pangsof hunger--for they had not eaten since their breakfast of the precedingday, the wolves having interrupted their preparations for dinner. 

It was of no use remaining where they were; so, striking their tent oncemore, they travelled forward. It was but poor consolation to them thatthey travelled much lighter than before. They had nothing to carry buttheir guns, and these they had got ready for work--so that their journeypartook somewhat of the character of a hunting excursion. They did noteven follow a direct course, but occasionally turned to one side or theother, wherever a clump of willows, or any other roughness on theground, looked like it might be the shelter of game. But during thatwhole day--although they travelled from near sunrise to sunset--not aliving thing was seen; and for the second night they went supperless tobed. 

A man will bear hunger for many days--some more, some less--withoutactually dying of it; but at no period will his sufferings be greaterthan during the third or fourth day. He will grow more feebleafterwards, but the pain which he endures will not be greater. 

On the third day the sufferings of our party were extreme. They beganto chew pieces of their skin-tent and blankets; but although this tookthe sharp edge off their appetites, it added nothing to their strength;and they still craved for food, and grew feebler. 

To use a poetical phrase, Marengo now became the "cynosure of everyeye. " Marengo was not very fat. The sledge and short rations hadthinned him down, and his ribs could be easily traced. Although theboys, and Basil in particular, would have suffered much beforesacrificing him, yet starvation will reconcile a man to part with hisbest friend. In spite of their friendship for Marengo, his masterscould not help scanning him from time to time with hungry looks. Marengo was an old dog, and, no doubt, as tough as a piece oftan-leather; but their appetites were made up for anything. 

It was near midday. They had started early, as on the day before. Theywere trudging wearily along, and making but little progress. Marengowas struggling with his sledge, feeble as any of the party. Basil sawthat the eyes of his companions were from time to time bent upon thedog; and though none of them said anything, he understood the thoughtsthat were passing within them. He knew that none of them wished topropose it--as Basil was the real master of Marengo--but their glanceswere sufficiently intelligible to him. He looked at the downcastcountenance of the once merry Francois, --at the serious air of Norman--at the wan cheek and sunken eye of Lucien, whom Basil dearly loved. Hehesitated no longer. His duty to his companions at once overcame hisaffection for his faithful dog. 

"We must kill him!" said he, suddenly stopping, and pointing to Marengo. 

The rest halted. 

"I fear there's no help for it, " said Norman, turning his face in everydirection, and sweeping the surface of the snow with hopeless glances. 

Francois also assented to the proposal. 

"Let us make a condition, " suggested Lucien; "I for one could walk fivemiles farther. " And as Lucien said this, he made an effort to standerect, and look strong and brave; but Basil knew it was an effort of_generosity_. 

"No, " said he, --"no, dear Luce. You are done up. We must kill thedog!"

"Nonsense, Basil, you mistake, " replied the other; "I assure you I amfar from being done up. I could go much farther yet. Stay!" continuedhe, pointing ahead; "you see yonder rocks? They are about three milesoff, I should think. They lie directly in our course. Well, now, letus agree to this condition. Let us give poor Marengo a chance for hislife. If we find nothing before reaching those rocks, why then--"

And Lucien, seeing Marengo gazing up in his face, left the sentenceunfinished. The poor brute looked up at all of them as though heunderstood every word that they were saying; and his mute appeal, had itbeen necessary, would not have been thrown away. But it did not requirethat to get him the proposed respite. All agreed willingly withLucien's proposition; and, shouldering their pieces, the party moved on. 

Lucien had purposely understated the distance to the rocks. It wasfive, instead of three miles; and some of them made it full ten, as theywere determined Marengo should have the benefit of every chance. Theydeployed like skirmishers; and not a brake or brush that lay to theright or left of the path but was visited and beaten by one or other ofthem. Their diligence was to no purpose. After two hours' weary work, they arrived among the rocks, having seen not a trace of eitherquadruped or bird. 

"Come!" cried Lucien in his now feeble voice, still trying to lookcheerful, "we must pass through them. There is a chance yet. Let himhave fair play. The rocks were to be the limit, but it was not statedwhat part of them. Let us pass through to the other side--they do notextend far. "

Encouraged by the words of Lucien, the party entered among the rocks, moving on separate paths. They had gone only a few paces, when a shoutfrom Norman caused the rest to look to him for an explanation. Noanimal was in sight. Had he seen any? No; but something that gratifiedhim certainly, for his voice and manner expressed it. 

"What is it?" inquired the others, all speaking at the same time. 

"_Tripe de roche_!" answered he. 

"_Tripe de roche_?"

"Yes, " replied Norman, "look there!" and he pointed to one of the rocksdirectly ahead of them, at the same time moving forward to it. Theothers hastened up after. On reaching the rock, they saw what Normanhad meant by the words _tripe de roche_ (rock-tripe). It was a black, hard, crumply substance, that nearly covered the surface of the rock, and was evidently of a vegetable nature. Lucien knew what it was aswell as Norman, and joy had expressed itself upon his pale cheeks at thesight. As for Basil and Francois they only stood waiting anexplanation, and wondering what value a quantity of "rock moss, " as theydeemed it, could be to persons in their condition. Lucien soon informedthem that it was not a "moss, " but a "lichen, " and of that celebratedspecies which will sustain human life. It was the _Gyrophora_. Normanconfirmed Lucien's statement, and furthermore affirmed, that not onlythe Indians and Esquimaux, but also parties of voyageurs, had oftensubsisted upon it for days, when they would otherwise have starved. There are many species, --not less than five or six. All of them possessnutritive properties, but only one is a palatable food--the _Gyrophoravellea_ of botanists. Unfortunately, this was not the sort which ourvoyageurs had happened upon, as it grows only upon rocks shaded bywoods, and is rarely met with in the open barrens. The one, however, which Norman had discovered was the "next best, " and they were all gladat finding even that. 

The first thing to be thought of was to collect it, and all four set topeeling and scraping it from the rocks. The next thought was to make itready for eating. Here a new difficulty stared them in the face. The_tripe de roche_ had to be boiled, --it could not be eaten else, --andwhere was the fire? where was the wood to make one? Not a stick was tobe seen. They had not met with a tree during all that day's journey!

They were now as badly off as ever. The _tripe de roche_ would be of nomore use to them than so much dry grass. What could they do with it?

In the midst of their suspense, one of them thought of the sledge--Marengo's sledge. That would make a fire, but a very small one. Itmight do to cook a single meal. Even that was better than none. Marengo was not going to object to the arrangement. He looked quitewilling to part with the sledge. But a few hours before, it came nearbeing used to cook Marengo himself. He was not aware of that, perhaps, but no matter. All agreed that the sledge must be broken up, andconverted into firewood. 

They were about taking it to pieces, and had already "unhitched" Marengofrom it, when Basil, who had walked to the other side of the rockyjumble, cried back to them to desist. He had espied some willows at nogreat distance. Out of these a fire could be made. The sledge, therefore, was let alone for the present. Basil and Francoisimmediately started for the willows, while Norman and Lucien remainedupon the spot to prepare the "tripe" for the pot. 

In a short time the former parties returned with two large bundles ofwillows, and the fire was kindled. The _tripe de roche_, with somesnow--for there was no water near--was put into the pot, and the latterhung over the blaze. 

After boiling for nearly an hour, the lichen became reduced to a softgummy pulp, and Norman thickened the mess to his taste by putting inmore snow, or more of the "tripe, " as it seemed to require it. The potwas then taken from the fire, and all four greedily ate of its contents. It was far from being palatable, and had a clammy "feel" in the mouth, something like sago; but none of the party was in any way either daintyor fastidious just at that time, and they soon consumed all that hadbeen cooked. It did not satisfy the appetite, though it filled thestomach, and made their situation less painful to bear. 

Norman informed them that it was much better when cooked with a littlemeat, so as to make broth. This Norman's companions could easilycredit, but where was the meat to come from? The Indians prefer the_tripe de roche_ when prepared along with the roe of fish, or whenboiled in fish liquor. 

Our weary voyageurs resolved to remain among the rocks for that night atleast; and with this intent they put up their little tent. They did notkindle any fire, as the willows were scarce, and there would be barelyenough to make one or two more boilings of the rock-tripe. They spreadtheir skins within the tent, and creeping in, kept one another as warmas they could until morning. 

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO. 

THE POLAR HARE AND GREAT SNOWY OWL. 

Of course hunger kept them from sleeping late. They were up and out ofthe tent by an early hour. Their fire was re-kindled, and they weremaking preparations for a fresh pot of rock-tripe, when they werestartled by the note of a well-known bird. On looking up, they beheldseated upon the point of a rock the creature itself, which was the"cinereous crow" (_Garrulus Canadensis_), or, as it is better known, the"whiskey Jack. " The latter name it receives from the voyageurs, on account of the resemblance of its Indian appellation, "whiskae-shaw-neesh, " to the words "whiskey John. " Although sometimescalled the "cinereous crow, " the bird is a true jay. It is one of themost inelegant of the genus, being of a dull grey colour, and notparticularly graceful in its form. Its plumage, moreover, does notconsist of webbed feathers, but rather more resembles hair; nor does itsvoice make up for the plainness of its appearance, as is the case withsome birds. On the contrary, the voice of "whiskey Jack" is plaintiveand squeaking, though he is something of a mocker in his way, andfrequently imitates the notes of other birds. He is one of thosecreatures that frequent the habitations of man, and there is not a furpost, or fort, in all the Hudson's Bay territory, where "whiskey Jack"is not familiarly known. He is far from being a favourite, however, as, like his near relative the magpie, he is a great thief, and will followthe marten-trapper all day while baiting his traps, perching upon a treeuntil the bait is set, and then pouncing down, and carrying it off. Hefrequently pilfers small articles from the forts and encampments, and isso bold as to enter the tents, and seize food out of any vessel that maycontain it. Notwithstanding all this, he is a favourite with thetraveller through these inhospitable regions. No matter how barren thespot where the voyageur may make his camp, his tent will hardly bepitched, before he receives a visit from "whiskey Jack, " who comes, ofcourse, to pick up any crumbs that may fall. His company, therefore, ina region where all other wild creatures shun the society of man, endearshim to the lonely traveller. 

At many of their camps our voyageurs had met with this singular bird, and were always glad to receive him as a friend. They were now doublydelighted to see him, but this delight arose from no friendly feelings. Their guest was at once doomed to die. Francois had taken up his gun, and in the next moment would have brought him down, had he not beenchecked by Norman. Not that Norman intended to plead for his life, butNorman's eye had caught sight of another "whiskey Jack, "--which washopping among the rocks at some distance--and fearing that Francois'shot might frighten it away, had hindered him from firing. It wasNorman's design to get both. 

The second "whiskey Jack, " or, perhaps, it was the whiskey "Jill, " soondrew near; and both were now seen to hop from rock to rock, and thenupon the top of the tent, and _one of them actually settled_ upon theedge of the pot, as it hung over the fire, and quietly looking into it, appeared to scrutinise its contents!

The boys could not think of any way of getting the birds, except byFrancois' gun; and it was at length agreed that Francois should do hisbest. He was sure of one of them, at least; so telling the others toget behind him, he fired at the more distant one where it sat upon thetent, and took the other on the wing. 

Both shots were successful. The two jays fell, and were soon divestedof their soft, silky, hair-like plumage, and dropped into the boilingpot. They did not weigh together more than about six or seven ounces;but even that was accounted something under present circumstances; and, with the _tripe de roche_, a much better breakfast was made than theyhad anticipated. 

No more of the lichen could be found. The rocks were all searched, butonly a few patches--not enough for another full meal--could be obtained. The travellers had no other resource, therefore, but to continue on, and passing through the rocky ground, they once more embarked upon thewilderness of snow. 

During that whole day not a living creature gladdened their eyes. Theysaw nothing that was eatable--fish, flesh, fowl, or vegetable. Not evena bit of rock-tripe--in these parts the last resource of starving men--could be met with. They encamped in a plain, where not a tree stood--not even a rock to shelter them. 

Next morning a consultation was held. Marengo was again the subject oftheir thoughts and conversation. Should they kill him on the spot or goa little farther? That was the question. Lucien, as before, interposedin his favour. There was a high hill many miles off, and in theirproper course. "Let us first reach yonder hill, " proposed Lucien. "Ifnothing is found before that, then we must part with Marengo. "

The proposal was agreed to, and, striking their tent, they again setout. 

It was a toilsome long way to that hill--feeble and weary as they allwere--but they reached it without having observed the slightest trace ofanimal life. 

"Up the hill!" cried Lucien, beckoning to the others, and cheering themwith his weak voice, "Up the hill!"

On they went, up the steep declivity--Marengo toiling on after them. The dog looked downcast and despairing. He really appeared to know theconditions that had been made for his life. His masters, as they creptupward, looked sharply before them. Every tuft that appeared above thesnow was scrutinised, and every inch of the ground, as it came intoview, was examined. 

At length they crossed the escarpment of the hill, and stood upon thesummit. They gazed forward with disappointed feelings. The hill-topwas a sort of table plain, of about three hundred yards in diameter. Itwas covered with snow, nearly a foot in depth. A few heads of witheredgrass were seen above the surface, but not enough to subdue the uniformwhite that prevailed all over. There was no creature upon it; that wasevident. A bird as big as a sparrow, or a quadruped as large as ashrew-mouse, could have been seen upon any part of it. A single glancesatisfied all of them that no living thing was there. 

They halted without proceeding farther. Some of them could not havegone another mile, and all of them were tottering in their tracks. Marengo had arrived upon the summit, and stood a little to one side, with the sledge behind him. 

"_You_ must do it!" said Basil, speaking to Norman in a hoarse voice, and turning his head away. Lucien and Francois stepped aside at thesame time, and stood as if looking down the hill. The countenances ofall three betokened extreme sorrow. There was a tear in Basil's eyethat he was trying to wipe away with his sleeve. 

The sharp click of Norman's gun was heard behind them, and they were allwaiting for the report, when, at that moment, a dark shadow passing overthe white declivity arrested their attention! It was the shadow of abird upon the wing. The simultaneous exclamation of all three stayedNorman's finger--already pressing upon the trigger--and the latter, turning round, saw that they were regarding some object in the air. Itwas a bird of great size--almost as large as an eagle, but with theplumage of a swan. It was white all over--both body and wings--white asthe snow over which it was sailing. Norman knew the bird at a glance. Its thick short neck and large head--its broad-spreading wings, of milkywhiteness, were not to be mistaken. It was the "great snowy owl" of theArctic regions. 

Its appearance suddenly changed the aspect of affairs. Norman let thebutt of his rifle fall to the ground, and stood, like the rest, watchingthe bird in its flight. 

The snowy owl (_Strix nyctea_) is, perhaps, the most beautiful, as it isone of the most powerful birds of its genus--of which there are morethan a dozen in North America. It is a bird of the Polar regions--eventhe most remote--and in the dead of winter it is found within the Arcticcircle, on both Continents--although at the same season it also wandersfarther south. It dwells upon the Barren Grounds as well as in woodeddistricts. In the former it squats upon the snow, where its peculiarcolour often prevents it from being noticed by the passing hunter. Nature has furnished it with every protection from the cold. Itsplumage is thick, closely matted, and downy, and it is feathered to thevery eyes--so that its legs appear as large as those of a good-sizeddog. The bill, too, is completely hidden under a mass of feathers thatcover its face, and not even a point of its whole body is exposed. 

The owl is usually looked upon as a night-bird, and in Southernlatitudes it is rarely seen by day; but the owls of the Northern regionsdiffer from their congeners in this respect. They hunt by day, evenduring the bright hours of noon. Were it not so, how could they existin the midst of an Arctic summer, when the days are months in duration?Here we have another example of the manner in which Nature trains herwild creatures to adapt themselves to their situation. 

At least a dozen species of owls frequent the territory of the Hudson'sBay Company--the largest of which is the cinereous owl, whose wings havea spread of nearly five feet. Some species migrate south on theapproach of winter; while several, as the snowy owl, remain to prey uponthe ptarmigan, the hares, and other small quadrupeds, who, likethemselves, choose that dreary region for their winter home. 

Our travellers, as I have said, stood watching the owl as it soaredsilently through the heavens. Francois had thrown his gun across hisleft arm, in hopes he might get a shot at it; but the bird--a shy one atall times--kept away out of range; and, after circling once or twiceover the hill, uttered a loud cry and flew off. 

Its cry resembled the moan of a human being in distress; and its effectupon the minds of our travellers, in the state they then were, was farfrom being pleasant. They watched the bird with despairing looks, untilit was lost against the white background of a snow-covered hill. 

They had noticed that the owl appeared to be just taking flight whenthey first saw it. It must have risen up from the hill upon which theywere; and they once more ran their eyes along the level summit, curiousto know where it had been perched that they had not seen it. No doubt, reflected they, it had been near enough, but its colour had rendered itundistinguishable from the snow. 

"What a pity!" exclaimed Francois. 

While making these reflections, and sweeping their glances around, anobject caught their eyes that caused some of them to ejaculate andsuddenly raise their guns. This object was near the centre of thesummit table, and at first sight appeared to be only a lump of snow; butupon closer inspection, two little round spots of a dark colour, andabove these two elongated black marks, could be seen. Looking steadily, the eye at length traced the outlines of an animal, that sat in acrouching attitude. The round spots were its eyes, and the black marksabove them were tips of a pair of very long ears. All the rest of itsbody was covered with a soft white fur, hardly to be distinguished fromthe snow upon which it rested. 

The form and colour of the animal, but more especially its long erectears, made it easy for them to tell what it was. All of them saw it wasa hare. 

"Hush!" continued Norman, as soon as he saw it, "keep still all of you--leave it to me. "

"What shall we do?" demanded Basil. "Can we not assist you?"

"No, " was the reply, uttered in a whisper, "stay where you are. Keepthe dog quiet. I'll manage puss, if the owl hasn't scared her toobadly. That scream has started her out of her form. I'm certain shewasn't that way before. Maybe she'll sit it out. Lucky the sun'shigh--don't move a step. Have the dog ready, but hold him tight, andkeep a sharp look out if she bolts. "

After giving these instructions, that were all uttered quickly and in anunder tone, Norman moved off, with his gun carried across his arm. Hedid not move in the direction of the hare, but rather as if he was goingfrom her. His course, however, bent gradually into a circle of whichthe hare was the centre--the diameter being the full breadth of thesummit level, which was about three hundred yards. In this circle hewalked round and round, keeping his eye fixed upon the crouching animal. When he had nearly completed one circumference, he began to shorten thediameter--so that the curve which he was now following was a spiral one, and gradually drawing nearer to the hare. The latter kept watching himas he moved--curiosity evidently mingling with her fears. Fortunately, as Norman had said, the sun was nearly in the vertex of the heavens, andhis own body cast very little shadow upon the snow. Had it beenotherwise, the hare would have been frightened at the moving shadow, andwould have sprung out of her form, before he could have got withinrange. 

When he had made some four or five circuits, Norman moved slower andslower, and then stopped nearly opposite to where the others were. These stood watching him with beating hearts, for they knew that thelife of Marengo, and perhaps their own as well, depended on the shot. Norman had chosen his place, so that in case the hare bolted, she mightrun towards them, and give them the chance of a flying shot. His gunwas already at his shoulder--his finger rested on the trigger, and theboys were expecting the report, when again the shadow of a bird flittedover the snow, a loud human-like scream sounded in their ears, and thehare was seen to spring up, and stretch her long legs in flight. At thesame instant the great snowy owl was observed wheeling above, andthreatening to pounce upon the fleeing animal!

The hare ran in a side-direction, but it brought her as she passedwithin range of the party by the sledge. The owl kept above her as sheran. A dozen leaps was all the hare ever made. A loud crack was heard, and she was seen to spring up and fall back upon the snow, dead as adoornail. Like an echo another crack followed--a wild scream rangthrough the air, and the great white owl fell fluttering to the earth. The reports were not of a rifle. They were the louder detonations of ashot-gun. All eyes were turned towards Francois, who, like a littlegod, stood enveloped in a halo of blue smoke. Francois was the hero ofthe hour. 

Marengo rushed forward and seized the struggling owl, that snapped itsbill at him like a watch-man's rattle. But Marengo did not care forthat; and seizing its head in his teeth, gave it a crunch that at onceput an end to its flapping. 

Marengo was reprieved, and he seemed to know it, as he bounded over thesnow, waving his tail, and barking like a young fool. 

They all ran up to the hare, which proved to be the "Polar hare" (_Lepusglacialis_), and one of the largest of its species--not less thanfifteen pounds in weight. Its fur, soft and white like swan-down, wasstained with red blood. It was not quite dead. Its little heart yetbeat faintly, and the light of life was still shining from its beautifulhoney-coloured eyes. Both it and the owl were taken up and carried tothe sledge, which was once more attached to Marengo, as the partyintended to go forward and halt under the shelter of the hill. 

"There must be some wood in this quarter, " remarked Norman: "I neverknew this sort of hare far from timber. "

"True, " said Lucien, "the Polar hare feeds upon willows, arbutus, andthe Labrador tea-plant. Some of these kinds must be near. "

While they were speaking, they had reached the brow of the hill, on theopposite side from where they had ascended. On looking into the valleybelow, to their great joy they beheld some clumps of willows, andgood-sized trees of poplar, birch, and spruce-pine (_Pinus alba_), andpassing down the hill, the travellers soon stood in their midst. Presently was heard the chipping sound of an axe and crash of fallingtimber, and in a few moments after a column of smoke was seen soaring upout of the valley, and curling cheerfully towards the bright blue sky. 

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE. 

THE JUMPING MOUSE AND THE ERMINE. 

Large as the hare was, she would have made but a meal for our fourhungry voyageurs, had they eaten at will. By Lucien's advice, however, they restrained themselves, and half of her was left for supper, whenthe "cook" promised to make them hare-soup. The head, feet, and otherspare bits, fell to Marengo's share. The owl, whose flesh was almost aswhite as its plumage, and, as Norman well knew, most delicate eating, was reserved for to-morrow's breakfast. 

They had pitched their tent with the intention of remaining at thatplace all night, and continuing their journey next day; but, as it stillwanted several hours of sunset, and the strength of all was considerablyrecruited, they resolved to hunt about the neighbourhood as long as theyhad light. It was of great importance that they should procure moregame. The owl would make but a spare breakfast, and after that wherewas the next meal to come from? They had had a temporary relief, andwhile their strength lasted, they must use every effort to procure afurther supply. The valley in which their new camp was placed lookedwell for game. It was a sort of oasis in the Barren Grounds. There wasa lake and a considerable skirting of timber around it--consisting, aswe have said, of willows, poplars, spruce-pine, and dwarf birch-trees(_Betula nana_). The Alpine arbutus, whose berries are the food of manyspecies of animals, also grew upon the side of the hills; and theLabrador tea-plant (_Ledum palustre_) was found upon the low groundaround the lake. The leaves of this last is a favourite food of thePolar hare, and our voyageurs had no doubt but that there were many ofthese animals in the neighbourhood. Indeed, they had better evidencethan conjecture, for they saw numerous hare-tracks in the snow. Therewere tracks of other animals too, for it is a well-known fact that whereone kind exists, at least two or three others will be found in the samehabitat--all being connected together by a "chain of destruction. "

A singular illustration of this was afforded to Lucien, who remained atthe camp while the rest went out hunting. He had gathered some of theleaves of the Labrador tea, and was drying them over the coals, intending to cheer his comrades with a cup of this beverage aftersupper. The hare-soup was boiling, and the "cook" sat listening to thecheerful sounds that issued from the pot--now and then taking off thelid to examine its savoury contents, and give them a stir. He wouldthen direct his attention to the tea-leaves that were parching in thefrying-pan; and, having shifted them a little, felt himself at libertyto look about for a minute or two. 

On one of these occasions, while glancing up, his attention wasattracted to an object which appeared upon the snow at a short distancefrom where he sat. A wreath of snow, that had formed under the shelterof the hill, extended all around its base, presenting a steep front inevery direction. This front was only two or three feet in height; butthe top surface of the wreath was many yards wide--in fact, it extendedback until it became blended with the slope of the hill. It was smoothand nearly level, but the hill above was steep, and somewhat rough androcky. The steep front of the wreath came down within half-a-dozenpaces of the fire where Lucien was seated; and it was upon the top orscarpment of it that the object appeared that had drawn his attention. It was a small creature, but it was in motion, and thus had caught hiseye. 

A single glance showed him that the little animal was a mouse, but of asomewhat singular species. It was about the size of the common mouse, but quite different in colour. The upper half of its body was of alight mahogany tint, while the lower half, including the legs and feet, were of a milky whiteness. It was, in fact, the "white-footed mouse"(_Mus leucopus_), one of the most beautiful of its kind. 

Here and there above the surface of the snow protruded the tops ofarbutus-trees; and the little creature was passing from one of these tothe other, in search, no doubt, of the berries that remain upon thesetrees all the winter. Sometimes it ran from point to point like anyother mouse, but now and then it would rear itself on its hind-legs, andleap several feet at a single bound! In this it evidently assisteditself by pressing its tail--in which it possesses muscular power--against the snow. This peculiar mode of progression has obtained for itthe name of the "jumping mouse, " and among the Indians "deer"-mouse, because its leap reminds them of the bounding spring of the deer. Butthere are still other species of "jumping mice" in America that possessthis power to a greater degree even than the _Mus leucopus_. 

Lucien watched its motions without attempting to interfere with it, until it had got nearly out of sight. He did not desire to do injury tothe little creature, nor was he curious to obtain it, as he had alreadymet with many specimens, and examined them to his satisfaction. He hadceased to think of it, and would, perhaps, never have thought of itagain, but, upon turning his eyes in the opposite direction, he observedanother animal upon the snow. This creature had a far different aspectfrom the mouse. Its body was nearly a foot in length, although not muchthicker than that of the other! Its legs were short, but strong, andits forehead broad and arched convexly. It had a tail more than halfthe length of the body, hairy, and tapering like that of a cat. Itsform was the well-known form of the weasel, and it was, in fact, aspecies of weasel. It was the celebrated _ermine (Mustela erminea_), celebrated for its soft and beautiful fur, so long prized as an ornamentfor the robes of the rich. It was white all over, with the exception ofits tail; and that, for about an inch or so at the tip, was covered withblack silky hair. On some parts of the body, too, the white was tingedwith a primrose yellow; but this tinge is not found in all animals ofthis species, as some individuals are pure white. Of course it was nowin its winter "robes;" but in the summer it changes to a colour thatdoes not differ much from that of the common weasel. 

When Lucien first saw it, it was running along the top of the wreath, and coming from the same direction from which the mouse had come. Nowand then it paused awhile, and then ran on again. Lucien observed thatit kept its nose to the ground, and as it drew nearer he saw that it wasfollowing on the same path which the other had taken. To hisastonishment he perceived that it was _trailing the mouse_! Whereverthe latter had doubled or made a _detour_, the ermine followed thetrack; and where the mouse had given one of its long leaps, there theermine would stop, and, after beating about until it struck the trailagain, would resume its onward course at a gallop. Its manoeuvres wereexactly like those of a hound upon the fresh trail of a fox!

Lucien now looked abroad to discover the mouse. It was still in sightfar off upon the snow, and, as Lucien could see, busily gnawing at thearbutus, quite unconscious that its _greatest_ enemy was so near. I saygreatest enemy, for the _Mus leucopus_ is the _natural_ prey of the_Mustela erminea_. 

The mouse was soon made aware of the dangerous proximity, but not untilthe ermine had got within a few feet of it. When it perceived thelatter it shrunk, at first, among the leaves of the arbutus; but seeingthere would be no protection there--as the other was still springingforward to seize it--it leaped up, and endeavoured to escape by flight. Its flight appeared to be in alternate jumps and runs, but the chase wasnot a long one. The ermine was as active as a cat, and, after a fewskips, its claws were struck into the mouse. There was a short, slendersqueak, and then a "crunch, " like the cracking of a hazel-nut. Thislast sound was produced by the teeth of the ermine breaking through theskull of its victim. 

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR. 

THE ARCTIC FOX AND WHITE WOLF. 

Lucien turned round to get hold of his rifle, intending to punish theermine, although the little creature, in doing what it did, had onlyobeyed a law of nature. But the boy had also another design in killingit: he wished to compare it with some ermines he had seen whiletravelling upon Lake Winnipeg, which, as he thought, were much larger--one that he had caught having measured more than a foot in length, without including the tail. He wished, also, to make some comparisonbetween it and the common weasel; for in its _winter dress_, in thesnowy regions, the latter very much resembles the ermine; and, indeed, the trappers make no distinction between them. 

With these ideas Lucien had grasped his gun, and was raising himself tocreep a little nearer, when his eye was arrested by the motions ofanother creature coming along the top of the wreath. This last was asnow-white animal, with long, shaggy fur, sharp-pointed snout, erectears, and bushy tail. Its aspect was fox-like, and its movements andattitudes had all that semblance of cunning and caution socharacteristic of these animals. Well might it, for it _was_ a fox--thebeautiful white fox of the Arctic regions. 

It is commonly supposed that there are but two or three kinds of foxesin America; and that these are only varieties of the European species. 

This is an erroneous idea, as there are nearly a dozen varietiesexisting in North America, although they may be referred to a lessnumber of species. There is the Arctic fox, which is confined to thecold Northern regions, and which in winter is white. 

The "sooty fox" is a variety of the "Arctic, " distinguished from it onlyby its colour, which is of a uniform blackish brown. 

The "American fox" (_Vulpes fulvus_), or, as it is commonly called, the"red fox, " has been long supposed to be the same as the European redfox. This is erroneous. They differ in many points; and, what issomewhat curious, these points of difference are similar to those thatexist between the European and American wolves, as already given. 

The "cross fox" is supposed by the Indians and some naturalists to beonly a variety of the last. It derives its name from its having twodark stripes crossing each other upon the shoulders. Its fur from thiscircumstance, and perhaps because the animal is scarce, is more prizedthan that of the red variety. When a single skin of the latter is worthonly fifteen shillings, one of the cross fox will bring as much as fiveguineas. 

Another variety of the red fox, and a much more rare one, is the"black, " or "silver" fox. The skins of these command six times theprice of any other furs found in America, with the exception of thesea-otter. The animal itself is so rare that only a few fall into thehands of the Hudson's Bay Company in a season; and Mr Nicholay, thecelebrated London furrier, asserts that a single skin will fetch fromten to forty guineas, according to quality. A remarkable cloak, orpelisse, belonging to the Emperor of Russia, and made out of the skinsof silver-foxes, was exhibited in the Great London Exposition of 1851. It was made entirely from the neck-part of the skins--the only part ofthe silver-fox which is pure black. This cloak was valued at 3400pounds; though Mr Nicholay considers this an exaggerated estimate, andstates its true value to be not over 1000 pounds. George the Fourth hada lining of black fox-skins worth 1000 pounds. 

The "grey fox" is a more southern species than any already described. Its proper home is the temperate zone covered by the United States;although it extends its range into the southern parts of Canada. In theUnited States it is the most common kind, although in that districtthere is also a "red fox, " different from the _Vulpes fulvus_ alreadynoticed; and which, no doubt, is the red fox of Europe, introduced bythe early colonists of America. 

Still another species, the smallest and perhaps the most interesting ofany, is the "kit fox. " This little creature is an inhabitant of theprairies, where it makes its burrows far from any wood. It is extremelyshy, and the swiftest animal in the prairie country--outrunning even theantelope!

When Lucien saw the fox he thought no more of the ermine, but drew backand crouched down, in hopes he might get a shot at the larger animal. He knew well that the flesh of the Arctic fox is highly esteemed asfood, particularly by persons situated as he and his companions were, and he hoped to be able to add it to their larder. 

When first seen it was coming towards him, though not in a direct line. It was engaged in hunting, and, with its nose to the snow, was runningin zig-zag lines, "quartering" the ground like a pointer dog. Presentlyit struck the trail of the ermine, and with a yelp of satisfactionfollowed it. This of course brought it close past where Lucien was;but, notwithstanding his eagerness to fire, it moved so rapidly alongthe trail that he was unable to take sight upon it. It did not halt fora moment; and, as Lucien's gun was a rifle, he knew that a flying shotwould be an uncertain one. In the belief, therefore, that the fox wouldstop soon--at all events when it came up with the ermine--he restrainedhimself from firing, and waited. 

It ran on, still keeping the track of the ermine. The latter, hithertobusy with his own prey, did not see the fox until it was itself seen, when, dropping the half-eaten mouse, it reared up on its hindquarterslike a squirrel or a monkey, at the same time spitting as spitefully asany other weasel could have done. In a moment, however, it changed itstactics--for the open jaws of the fox were within a few paces of it--andafter making a short quick run along the surface, it threw up itshindquarters, and plunged head-foremost into the snow! The fox sprangforward, and flinging his brush high in air, shot after like an arrow!

Both had now disappeared from Lucien's sight. For a moment the surfaceof the snow was disturbed above the spot where they had gone down, butthe next moment all was still, and no evidence existed that a livingcreature had been there, except the tracks, and the break the twocreatures had made in going down. Lucien ran forward until he waswithin a few yards of the place, and stood watching the hole, with hisrifle ready--thinking that the fox, at least, would soon come up again. 

He had waited for nearly five minutes, looking steadily at this point, when his eye was attracted by a movement under the snow, at aconsiderable distance, quite fifty paces, from where he stood. Thefrozen crust was seen to upheave; and, the next moment, the head of thefox, and afterwards his whole body, appeared above the surface. Luciensaw that the ermine lay transversely between his jaws, and was quitedead! He was about to fire, but the fox, suddenly perceiving him, shotoff like an arrow, carrying his prey along with him. He was soon out ofreach, and Lucien, seeing that he had lost his chance, was about toreturn to the fire, when, all at once, the fox was observed to stop, turn suddenly in his tracks, and run off in a new direction! Lucienlooked beyond to ascertain the cause of this strange manoeuvre. Thatwas soon ascertained. Coming down from among the rocks was a largeanimal--five times the fox's size--but in other respects not unlike him. It was also of a snow-white colour, with long hair, bushy tail, andshort erect ears, but its aspect was not to be mistaken. It was thegreat _white wolf_. 

When Lucien first saw this new-comer, the latter had just espied thefox, and was about stretching out into a gallop towards him. The fox, _watching backwards_ as he ran, had not seen the wolf, until the latterwas within a few springs of him; and now when he had turned, and bothwere in full chase, there was not over twenty yards between them. Thedirection in which they ran would bring them near to Lucien; and so theycame, and passed him--neither of them seeming to heed his presence. They had not got many yards farther, before Lucien perceived that thewolf was fast closing on the fox, and would soon capture him. Believinghe would then stop, so as to offer him a fairer chance for a shot, Lucien followed. The wolf, however, had noticed him coming after, andalthough the next moment he closed his great jaws upon the fox, he didnot pause for a single instant, but, lifting the latter clear up fromthe ground, ran on without the slightest apparent diminution of speed!

Reynard was seen to struggle and kick, while he squeaked like a shotpuppy; but his cries each moment grew feebler, and his struggles sooncame to an end. The wolf held him transversely in his jaws--just as hehimself but the moment before had carried the ermine. 

Lucien saw there was no use in following them, as the wolf ran on withhis prey. With some disappointment, therefore, he was about to returnto the fire, where, to add to his mortification, he knew he would findhis tea-leaves parched to a cinder. He lingered a moment, however, withhis eyes still fixed upon the departing wolf that was just about todisappear over the crest of a ridge. The fox was still in his jaws, butno longer struggling. Reynard looked limber and dead, as his legs swungloosely on both sides of the wolf's head. Lucien at that moment saw thelatter suddenly stop in his career, and then drop down upon the surfaceof the snow as if dead! He fell with his victim in his jaws, and layhalf doubled up, and quite still. 

This strange action would have been a difficult thing for Lucien toexplain, but, almost at the same instant in which he observed it, a puffof blue smoke shot up over the ridge, and quickly following was heardthe sharp crack of a rifle. Then a head with its cap of raccoon skinappeared above the snow, and Lucien, recognising the face of Basil, ranforward to meet him. 

Both soon stood over the body of the dead wolf, wondering at what theysaw; but Basil, far more than Lucien--for the latter already knew thecircumstances of that strange scene of death. First there was the greatgaunt body of the wolf stretched along the snow, and quite dead. Crossways in his mouth was the fox, just as he had been carried off; andacross the jaws of the latter, lay the long worm-like body of theermine, still retaining between its teeth the half-devoured remains ofthe white-footed mouse! A very chain of destroyers! These creaturesdied as they had lived, preying one upon the other! Of all four thelittle mouse alone was an innocent victim. The other three, thoughmorally guilty by the laws of man, yet were only acting in obedience tothe laws of Nature and necessity. Man himself obeys a similar law, asBasil had just shown. Philosophise as we will, we cannot comprehend whyit is so--why Nature requires the sacrifice of one of her creatures forthe sustenance of another. But although we cannot understand the cause, we must not condemn the fact as it exists; nor must we suppose, as somedo, that the destruction of God's creatures for our necessitiesconstitutes a crime. They who think so, and who, in consistency withtheir doctrines, confine themselves to what they term "vegetable" food, are at best but shallow reasoners. They have not studied Nature veryclosely, else would they know that every time they pluck up a parsnip, or draw their blade across the leaf of a lettuce, they cause pain anddeath! How much pain we cannot tell; but that the plant feels, as wellas the animal, we can clearly _prove_. Probably it feels less, and itmay be each kind of plant differs from others in the amount, accordingto its higher or lower organism. Probably its amount of pleasure--itscapability of enjoyment--is in a direct proportion to the pain which itendures; and it is highly probable that this double line of ratios runsin an ascending scale throughout the vegetable kingdom, graduallyjoining on to what is more strictly termed the "animal. " But thesemysteries of life, my young friend, will be interesting studies for youwhen your mind becomes matured. Perhaps it may be your fortune tounravel some of them, for the benefit of your fellow-men. I feelsatisfied that you will not only be a student of Nature, but one of hergreat teachers; you will far surpass the author of this little book inyour knowledge of Nature's laws; but it will always be a happiness tohim to reflect, that, when far advanced upon the highway of science, youwill look back to him as one you had passed upon the road, and who_pointed you to the path_. 

Though Basil had shot the wolf, it was plain that it was not the firstnor yet the second time he had discharged his rifle since leaving thecamp. From his game-bag protruded the curving claws and wing-tips of agreat bird. In one hand he carried a white hare--not the Polar hare--but a much smaller kind, also an inhabitant of these snowy regions; andover his shoulders was slung a fierce-looking creature, the greatwild-cat or lynx of America (_Lynx Canadensis_). The bird in his bagwas the golden eagle (_Aquila chrysaetos_), one of the few featheredcreatures that brave the fierce winter of a northern climate, and doesnot migrate, like its congeners the "white-head" and the osprey, to moresouthern regions. 

Basil had returned alone--for the three, Basil, Norman, and Francois, had taken different directions at setting cut. This they had done, inorder to have as great a number of chances as possible of finding thegame. Norman came in a few minutes after, bearing a whole deer upon hisshoulders--a glad sight that was--and, a short interval having passed, Francois's "hurrah" sounded upon their ears, and Francois himself wasseen coming up the valley loaded like a little donkey with two bunchesof large snow-white birds. 

The camp now exhibited a cheering sight. Such a variety was never seeneven in the larder of a palace kitchen. The ground was strewed withanimals like a dead menagerie. There were no less than a dozen kindsupon it!

The hare-soup was now quite ready, and was accordingly served up byLucien in the best style. Lucien had dried a fresh "grist" of thetea-leaves, and a cheering cup followed; and then the party all sataround their log-fire, while each of them detailed the history of hisexperience since parting with the others. 

Francois was the first to relate what had befallen him. 

CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE. 

THE JERFALCON AND THE WHITE GROUSE. 

"Mine, " began Francois, "was a bird-adventure, as you all see--thoughwhat kind of birds I've shot I can't tell. One of them's a hawk, I'msure; but it's a _white_ hawk, and that I never saw before. The rest, Isuppose, are _white_ partridges. Everything appears to be white here. What are they, Luce?"

"You are right about this first, " answered Lucien, taking up one of thebirds which Francois had brought back with him, and which was white allbut a few spots of clove-brown upon its back. "This is a hawk, as youmay tell, by its appearance, or rather I should say a `falcon, ' for youmust know there is a difference. "

"What difference?" demanded Francois, with some eagerness of manner. 

"Why the principal difference is the formation of their beaks or bills. The bills of the true falcons are stronger, and have a notch in thelower mandible answering to a tooth in the upper one. Their nostrils, too, are differently formed. But another point of distinction is foundin their habits. Both feed on warm-blooded animals, and neither willeat carrion. In this respect the hawks and falcons are alike. Bothtake their prey upon the wing; but herein lies the difference. Thehawks capture it by skimming along horizontally or obliquely, andpicking it up as they pass; whereas the true falcons `pounce' down uponit from above, and in a line nearly vertical. "

"Then this must be a true falcon, " interrupted Francois, "for I saw thegentleman do that very thing; and beautifully he did it, too. "

"It is a falcon, " continued Lucien; "and of the many species of hawkswhich inhabit North America--over twenty in all--it is one of theboldest and handsomest. I don't wonder you never saw it before; for itis truly a bird of the Northern regions, and does not come so far southas the territory of the United States, much less into Louisiana. It isfound in North Europe, Greenland, and Iceland, and has been seen as farnorth on both continents as human beings have travelled. It is known bythe name of `jerfalcon, ' or `gyrfalcon, ' but its zoological name is_Falco Islandicus_. "

"The Indians here, " interposed Norman, "call it by a name that means`winter bird, ' or `winterer'--I suppose, because it is one of the fewthat stay in these parts all the year round, and is therefore oftennoticed by them in winter time. The traders sometimes call it the`speckled partridge-hawk, ' for there are some of them more spotted thanthis one is. "

"True, " said Lucien; "the young ones are nearly of a brown colour, andthey first become spotted or mottled after a year or two. They areseveral years old before they get the white plumage, and very fewindividuals are seen of a pure white all over, though there are somewithout a spot. 

"Yes, " continued the naturalist, "it is the jerfalcon; and those otherbirds which you call `white partridges, ' are the _very_ creatures uponwhich it preys. So _you_ have killed both the tyrant and his victims. They are not partridges though, but grouse--that species known as`willow-grouse' (_Tetrao saliceti_). "

And as Lucien said this, he began to handle the birds, which were of abeautiful white all over, with the exception of the tail-feathers. These last were pitch-black. 

"Ho!" exclaimed Lucien, in some surprise, "you have two kinds here!Were they all together when you shot them?"

"No, " answered Francois; "one I shot along with the hawk out in the openground. All the others I killed upon a tree in a piece of woods that Ifell in with. There's no difference between them that I can see. "

"But I can, " said Lucien, "although I acknowledge they all look verymuch alike. Both are feathered to the toes--both have the blackfeathers in the tail--and the bills of both are black; but if youobserve closely, this kind--the willow-grouse--has the bill muchstronger and less flattened. Besides, it is a larger bird than theother, which is the `rock-grouse' (_Tetrao rupestris_). Both aresometimes, though erroneously, called `ptarmigan;' but they are not thetrue ptarmigan (_Tetrao mutus_)--such as exist in North Europe--thoughthese last are also to be met with in the Northern parts of America. The ptarmigan are somewhat larger than either of these kinds, but inother respects differ but little from them. 

"The habits of the `rock' and `willow' grouse are very similar. Theyare both birds of the snowy regions, and are found as far north as hasbeen explored. The willow-grouse in winter keep more among the trees, and are oftener met with in wooded countries; whereas the others likebest to live in the open ground, and, from your statement, it appearsyou found each kind in its favourite haunt. "

"Just so, " said Francois. "After leaving here, I kept down the valley, and was just crossing an open piece of high ground, when I espied thewhite hawk, or falcon as you call it, hovering in the air as I'd oftenseen hawks do. Well, I stopped and hid behind a rock, thinking I mighthave a chance to put a few drops into him. All at once he appeared tostand still in the air, and, then closing his wings, shot down like anarrow. Just then I heard a loud `_whur-r-r_, ' and up started a wholecovey of white partridges--grouse, I should say--the same as this youcall the `rock-grouse. ' I saw that the hawk had missed the whole ofthem, and I marked them as they flew off. They pitched about a hundredyards or so, and then went plunge under the snow--every one of themmaking a hole for itself just like where one had poked their foot in! Iguess, boys, this looked funny enough. I thought I would be sure to geta shot at some of these grouse as they came out again; so I walkedstraight up to the holes they had made, and stood waiting. I still sawthe hawk hovering in the air, about an hundred yards ahead of me. 

"I was considering whether I ought to go farther on, and tramp the birdsout of the snow; for I believed, of course, they were still under theplace where the holes were. All at once I noticed a movement on thecrust of the snow right under where the hawk was flying, and then thatindividual shot down to the spot, and disappeared under the snow! Atthe same instant, the crust broke in several places, and up came thegrouse one after another, and whirred off out of sight, without givingme any sort of a chance. The hawk, however, had not come up yet; and Iran forward, determined to take him as soon as he should make hisappearance. When I had got within shooting distance, up he fluttered tothe surface, and--what do you think?--he had one of the grousestruggling in his claws! I let him have the right barrel, and both heand grousy were knocked dead as a couple of door-nails!

"I thought I might fall in with the others again; and kept on in thedirection they had taken, which brought me at last to a piece ofwoodland consisting of birches and willow-trees. As I was walking alongthe edge of this, I noticed one of the willows, at some distance off, covered with great white things, that at first I took for flakes ofsnow; but then I thought it curious that none of the other trees had thesame upon them. As I came a little nearer, I noticed one of the thingsmoving, and then I saw they were birds, and very like the same I hadjust seen, and was then in search of. So I crept in among the trees;and, after some dodging, got within beautiful shooting distance, andgave them both barrels. There, you see the result!"

Here Francois triumphantly pointed to the pile of birds, which in all, with the jerfalcon, counted four brace and a half. 

One was the rock-grouse, which the falcon had itself killed, and theothers were willow-grouse, as Lucien had stated. Francois now remainedsilent, while Basil related his day's adventure. 

CHAPTER THIRTY SIX. 

THE HARE, THE LYNX, AND THE GOLDEN EAGLE. 

"Frank, " began he, "has called his a `bird-adventure. ' I might givemine somewhat of the same title, for there was a bird mixed up with it--the noblest of all birds--the eagle. But you shall hear it. 

"On leaving the camp, I went, as you all know, up the valley. Aftertravelling for a quarter of a mile or so, I came upon a wide openbottom, where there were some scattered willows and clumps of dwarfbirch-trees. As Luce had told me that such are the favourite food ofthe American hare, or, as we call it in Louisiana, `rabbit, ' I lookedout for the sign of one, and, sure enough, I soon came upon a track, which I knew to be that of `puss. ' It was fresh enough, and I followedit. It kept me meandering about for a long while, till at last I sawthat it took a straight course for some thick brushwood, with two orthree low birches growing out of it. As I made sure of finding the gamethere, I crept forward _very_ quietly, holding Marengo in the leash. But the hare was not in the brush; and, after tramping all through it, Iagain noticed the track where she had gone out on the opposite side. Iwas about starting forth to follow it, when all at once an odd-lookingcreature made its appearance right before me. It was that fellowthere!" And Basil pointed to the lynx. "I thought at first sight, "continued he, "it was our Louisiana wild-cat or bay lynx, as Luce callsit, for it is very like our cat; but I saw it was nearly twice as big, and more greyish in the fur. Well, when I first sighted the creature, it was about an hundred yards off. It hadn't seen me, though, for itwas not running away, but skulking along slowly--nearly crosswise to thecourse of the hare's track--and looking in a different direction to thatin which I was. I was well screened behind the bushes, and that, nodoubt, prevented it from noticing me. At first I thought of runningforward, and setting Marengo after it. Then I determined on stayingwhere I was, and watching it a while. Perhaps it may come to a stop, reflected I, and let me creep within shot. I remained, therefore, crouching among the bushes, and kept the dog at my feet. 

"As I continued to watch the cat, I saw that, instead of following astraight line, it was moving in a circle!

"The diameter of this circle was not over an hundred yards; and in avery short while the animal had got once round the circumference, andcame back to where I had first seen it. It did not stop there, butcontinued on, though not in its old tracks. It still walked in acircle, but a much smaller one than before. Both, however, had a commoncentre; and, as I noticed that the animal kept its eyes constantlyturned towards the centre, I felt satisfied that in that place would befound the cause of its strange manoeuvring. I looked to the centre. Atfirst I could see nothing--at least nothing that might be supposed toattract the cat. There was a very small bush of willows, but they werethin. I could see distinctly through them, and there was no creaturethere, either in the bush or around it. The snow lay white up to theroots of the willows, and I thought that a mouse could hardly have foundshelter among them, without my seeing it from where I stood. Still Icould not explain the odd actions of the lynx, upon any other principlethan that it was in the pursuit of game; and I looked again, andcarefully examined every inch of the ground as my eyes passed over it. This time I discovered what the animal was after. Close in to thewillows appeared two little parallel streaks of a dark colour, justrising above the surface of the snow. I should not have noticed themhad there not been two of them, and these slanting in the samedirection. They had caught my eyes before, but I had taken them for thepoints of broken willows. I now saw that they were the ears of someanimal, and I thought that once or twice they moved slightly while I wasregarding them. After looking at them steadily for a time, I made outthe shape of a little head underneath. It was white, but there was around dark spot in the middle, which I knew to be an eye. There was nobody to be seen. That was under the snow, but it was plain enough thatwhat I saw was the head of a hare. At first I supposed it to be a Polarhare--such as we had just killed--but the tracks I had followed were notthose of the Polar hare. Then I remembered that the `rabbit' of theUnited States also turns white in the winter of the Northern regions. This, then, must be the American rabbit, thought I. 

"Of course my reflections did not occupy all the time I have taken indescribing them. Only a moment or so. All the while the lynx wasmoving round and round the circle, but still getting nearer to the harethat appeared eagerly to watch it. I remembered how Norman hadmanoeuvred to get within shot of the Polar hare; and I now saw the verysame _ruse_ being practised by a dumb creature, that is supposed to haveno other guide than instinct. But I had seen the `bay lynx' ofLouisiana do some `dodges' as cunning as that, --such as claying his feetto make the hounds lose the scent, and, after running backwards andforwards upon a fallen log, leap into the tops of trees, and get off inthat way. Believing that his Northern cousin was just as artful ashimself, " (here Basil looked significantly at the "Captain, ") "I did notso much wonder at the performance I now witnessed. Nevertheless, I felta great curiosity to see it out. But for this curiosity I could haveshot the lynx every time he passed me on the nearer edge of the circle. Round and round he went, then, until he was not twenty feet from thehare, that, strange to say, seemed to regard this the worst of herenemies more with wonder than fear. The lynx at length stoppedsuddenly, brought his four feet close together, arched his back like anangry cat, and then with one immense bound, sprang forward upon hisvictim. The hare had only time to leap out of her form, and the secondspring of the lynx brought him right upon the top of her. I could hearthe child-like scream which the American rabbit always utters when thusseized; but the cloud of snow-spray raised above the spot prevented mefor a while from seeing either lynx or hare. The scream was stifled ina moment, and when the snow-spray cleared off, I saw that the lynx heldthe hare under his paws, and that `puss' was quite dead. 

"I was considering how I might best steal up within shooting distance, when, all at once, I heard another scream of a very different sort. Atthe same time a dark shadow passed over the snow. I looked up, andthere, within fifty yards of the ground, a great big bird was wheelingabout. I knew it to be an eagle from its shape; and at first I fanciedit was a young one of the white-headed kind--for, as you are aware, these do not have either the white head or tail until they are severalyears old. Its immense size, however, showed that it could not be oneof these. It must be the great `_golden' eagle_ of the Rocky Mountains, thought I. 

"When I first noticed it, I fancied that it had been after the rabbit;and, seeing the latter pounced upon by another preying creature, haduttered its scream at being thus disappointed of its prey. I expected, therefore, to see it fly off. To my astonishment it broke suddenly outof the circles in which it had been so gracefully wheeling, and, withanother scream wilder than before, darted down towards the lynx!

"The latter, on hearing the first cry of the eagle, had started, droppedhis prey, and looked up. In the eagle he evidently recognised anantagonist, for his back suddenly became arched, his fur bristled up, his short tail moved quickly from side to side, and he stood withglaring eyes, and claws ready to receive the attack. 

"As the eagle came down, its legs and claws were thrown forward, and Icould then tell it was not a bald eagle, nor the great `Washingtoneagle, ' nor yet a fishing eagle of any sort, which both of these are. The fishing eagles, as Lucien had told me, _have always naked legs_, while those of the true eagles are more feathered. So were his, butbeyond the feathers I could see his great curved talons, as he struckforward at the lynx. He evidently touched and wounded the animal, butthe wound only served to make it more angry; and I could hear it purringand spitting like a tom-cat, only far louder. The eagle again mountedback into the air, but soon wheeled round and shot down a second time. This time the lynx sprang forward to meet it, and I could hear theconcussion of their bodies as they came together. I think the eaglemust have been crippled, so that it could not fly up again, for thefight from that time was carried on upon the ground. The lynx seemedanxious to grasp some part of his antagonist's body--and at times Ithought he had succeeded--but then he was beaten off again by the bird, that fought furiously with wings, beak, and talons. The lynx nowappeared to be the attacking party, as I saw him repeatedly springforward at the eagle, while the latter always received him upon itsclaws, lying with its back upon the snow. Both fur and feathers flew inevery direction, and sometimes the combatants were so covered with thesnow-spray that I could see neither of them. 

"I watched the conflict for several minutes, until it occurred to me, that my best time to get near enough for a shot was just while they werein the thick of it, and not likely to heed me. I therefore movedsilently out of the bushes; and, keeping Marengo in the string, creptforward. I had but the one bullet to give them, and with that I couldnot shoot both; but I knew that the quadruped was eatable, and, as I wasnot sure about the bird, I very easily made choice, and shot the lynx. To my surprise the eagle did not fly _off_, and I now saw that one ofits wings was disabled! He was still strong enough, however, to scratchMarengo severely before the latter could master him. As to the lynx, hehad been roughly handled. His skin was torn in several places, and oneof his eyes, as you see, regularly `gouged out. '"

Here Basil ended his narration; and after an interval, during which somefresh wood was chopped and thrown upon the fire, Norman, in turn, commenced relating what had befallen him. 

CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN. 

THE "ALARM BIRD" AND THE CARIBOU. 

"There wasn't much `adventure' in my day's sport, " said he, "though Imight call it a `bird-adventure' too, for if it hadn't been for a bird Ishouldn't have had it. I shot a deer--that's all. But maybe it wouldbe curious for you to know how I came to find the animal, so I'll tellyou. 

"The first thing I did after leaving here was to climb the hillyonder, "--here Norman pointed to a long hill that sloped up from theopposite shore of the lake, and which was the direction he had taken, asBasil and Francois had gone right and left. 

"I saw neither bird, beast, nor track, until I had reached the top ofthe hill. There I got a good view of the country ahead. I saw it wasvery rocky, without a stick of timber, and did not look very promisingfor game. `It's no use going that way, ' I says to myself; `I'll keepalong the ridge, above where Frank's gone. He may drive some varmintout of the hollow, and I'll get a crack at it, as it comes over thehill. '

"I was about to turn to the left when I heard the skreek of a bird awayahead of me. I looked in that direction; and, sure enough, saw onewheeling about in the air, right above the rocky jumble with which thecountry was covered. 

"Now it's a mighty curious bird that I saw. It's a sort of an owl, but, I should say myself, there's a sprinkling of the hawk in it--for it's asmuch like the one as the other. "

"No doubt, " interrupted Lucien, "it was one of the day owls of theseNorthern regions, some of which approach very near to the hawks, both inshape and habits. This peculiarity arises from the fact of the longsummer day--of weeks in duration--within the Arctic circle, requiringthem to hunt for their prey, just as hawks do; and therefore Nature hasgifted them with certain peculiarities that make them resemble thesebirds. They want the very broad faces and large tufted heads of thetrue owls; besides the ears, which in the latter are remarkable fortheir size, and also for being operculated, or with lids, in the formerare not much larger than in other birds of prey. The small hawk-owl(_Strix funerea_), which is altogether a Northern bird, is one of thiskind. "

"Very well, " continued Norman, "what you say may be very true, cousinLuce; I only know that the bird I am speaking about is a mighty curiouslittle creature. It ain't bigger than a pigeon, and is of amottled-brown colour; but what I call it curious for is this:--Wheneverit sees any creature passing from place to place, it mounts up into theair, and hovers above them, keeping up a constant screeching, like thesqualling of a child--and that's anything but agreeable. It does so, not only in the neighbourhood of its nest--like the plover and someother birds--but it will sometimes follow a travelling party for hourstogether, and for miles across the country. From this circumstance theIndians of these parts call it the `alarm bird, ' or `bird of warning, 'because it often makes them aware of the approach either of theirenemies or of strangers. Sometimes it alarms and startles the game, while the hunter is crawling up to it; and I have known it to bothermyself for a while of a day, when I was after grouse. It's a greatfavourite with the Indians though--as it often guides them to deer, ormusk-oxen, by its flying and screaming above where these animals arefeeding. 

"Just in the same way it guided me. I knew, from the movements of thebird, that there must be something among the rocks. I couldn't tellwhat, but I hoped it would turn out to be some creature that waseatable; so I changed my intention, and struck out for the place whereit was. 

"It was a good half-mile from the hill, and it cost me considerableclambering over the rocks, before I reached the ground. I thought toget near enough to see what it was, without drawing the bird uponmyself, and I crouched from hummock to hummock; but the sharp-eyedcreature caught sight of me, and came screeching over my head. I kepton without noticing it; but as I was obliged to go round some largerocks, I lost the direction, and soon found myself wandering back intomy own trail. I could do nothing, therefore, until the bird shouldleave me, and fly back to whatever had first set it a-going. In orderthat it might do so, I crept in under a big stone that jutted out, andlay quiet a bit, watching it. It soon flew off, and commenced wheelingabout in the air, not more than three hundred yards from where I lay. This time I took good bearings, and then went on. I did not care forthe bird to guide me any longer, for I observed there was an open spotahead, and I was sure that there I would see something. And sure enoughI did. On peeping round the end of a rock, I spied a herd of aboutfifty deer. They were reindeer, of course, as there are no others uponthe `Barren Grounds, ' and I saw they were all does--for at this seasonthe bucks keep altogether in the woods. Some of them were pawing thesnow to get at the moss, while others were standing by the rocks, andtearing off the lichens with their teeth. It so happened that I had thewind of them, else they would have scented me and made off, for I waswithin a hundred yards of the nearest. I was not afraid of their takingfright, so long as they could only see part of my body--for these deerare so stupid, or rather so curious, that almost anything will draw themwithin shot. Knowing this, I practised a trick that had often helped mebefore; and that was to move the barrel of my gun, up and down, with thesame sort of motion as the deer make with their horns, when rubbingtheir necks against a rock or tree. If I'd had a set of antlers, itwould have been all the better; but the other answered well enough. Ithappened the animals were not very wild, as, likely, they hadn't beenhunted for a good while. I bellowed at the same time, --for I know howto imitate their call--and, in less than a minute's time, I got severalof them within range. Then I took aim, and knocked one over, and therest ran off. That, " said Norman, "ended my adventure--unless you callthe carrying a good hundred pounds weight of deer-meat all the way backto camp part of it. If so, I can assure you that it was by far the mostunpleasant part. "

Here Norman finished his narration, and a conversation was carried onupon the subject of reindeer, or, as these animals are termed, inAmerica, "caribou. "

Lucien said that the reindeer (_Cervus tarandus_) is found in theNorthern regions of Europe and Asia as well as in America, but thatthere were several varieties of them, and perhaps there were differentspecies. Those of Lapland are most celebrated, because they not onlydraw sledges, but also furnish food, clothing, and many othercommodities for their owners. In the north of Asia, the Tungusians havea much larger sort, which they ride upon; and the Koreki, who dwell uponthe borders of Kamschatka, possess vast herds of reindeer--some richindividuals owning as many as ten or twenty thousand!

It is not certain that the reindeer of America is exactly the same aseither of the kinds mentioned; and indeed in America itself there aretwo very distinct kinds--perhaps a third. Two kinds are well-known, that differ from each other in size, and also in habits. One is the"Barren Ground caribou, " and the other, the "Woodland caribou. " Theformer is one of the smallest of the deer kind--the bucks weighinglittle over one hundred pounds. As its name implies, it frequents theBarren Grounds, although in winter it also seeks the shelter of woodedtracts. Upon the Barren Grounds, and the desolate shores and islands ofthe Arctic Sea, it is the only kind of deer found, except at one or twopoints, as the mouth of the Mackenzie River--which happens to be awooded country, and there the moose also is met with. Nature seems tohave gifted the Barren Ground caribou with such tastes and habits, thata fertile country and a genial clime would not be a pleasant home forit. It seems adapted to the bleak, sterile countries in which itdwells, and where its favourite food--the mosses and lichens--is found. In the short summer of the Arctic regions, it ranges still farthernorth; and its traces have been found wherever the Northern navigatorshave gone. It must remain among the icy islands of the Arctic Sea untilwinter be considerably advanced, or until the sea is so frozen as toallow it to get back to the shores of the continent. 

The "Woodland caribou" is a larger variety--a Woodland doe being aboutas big as a Barren Ground buck--although the horns of the latter speciesare larger and more branching than those of the former. The Woodlandkind are found around the shores of Hudson's Bay, and in other woodedtracts that lie in the southern parts of the fur countries--into whichthe Barren Ground caribou never penetrates. They also migrate annually, but, strange to say, their spring migrations are southward, while, atthe same season, their cousins of the Barren Grounds are making theirway northward to the shores of the Arctic Sea. This is a very singulardifference in their habits, and along with their difference in bulk, form, etcetera, entitles them to be ranked as separate species of deer. The flesh of the Woodland caribou is not esteemed so good an article offood as that of the other; and, as it inhabits a district where manylarge animals are found, it is not considered of so much importance inthe economy of human life. The "Barren Ground caribou, " on the otherhand, is an indispensable animal to various tribes of Indians, as wellas to the Esquimaux. Without it, these people would be unable to dwellwhere they do; and although they have not domesticated it, and trainedit to draught, like the Laplanders, it forms their main source ofsubsistence, and there is no part of its body which they do not turn tosome useful purpose. Of its horns they form their fish-spears andhooks, and, previous to the introduction of iron by the Europeans, theirice-chisels and various other utensils. Their scraping or curryingknives are made from the split shin-bones. The skins make theirclothing, tent-covers, beds, and blankets. The raw-hide, cleared of thehair and cut into thongs, serves for snares, bow-strings, net-lines, andevery other sort of ropes. The finer thongs make netting forsnow-shoes--an indispensable article to these people--and of thesethongs fish-nets are also woven; while the tendons of the muscles, whensplit, serve for fine sewing-thread. Besides these uses, the flesh ofthe caribou is the food of many tribes, Indians and Esquimaux, for mostof the year; and, indeed, it may be looked upon as their staple articleof subsistence. There is hardly any part of it (even the horns, whensoft) that is not eaten and relished by them. Were it not for theimmense herds of these creatures that roam over the country, they wouldsoon be exterminated--for they are easily approached, and the Indianshave very little difficulty, during the summer season, in killing asmany as they please. 

Norman next gave a description of the various modes of hunting thecaribou practised by the Indians and Esquimaux; such as driving theminto a pound, snaring them, decoying and shooting them with arrows, andalso a singular way which the Esquimaux have of taking them in apit-trap built in the snow. 

"The sides of the trap, " said he, "are built of slabs of snow, cut as ifto make a snow-house. An inclined plane of snow leads to the entranceof the pit, which is about five feet deep, and large enough within tohold several deer. The exterior of the trap is banked up on all sideswith snow; but so steep are these sides left, that the deer can only getup by the inclined plane which leads to the entrance. A great slab ofsnow is then placed over the mouth of the pit, and revolves on two axlesof wood. This slab will carry the deer until it has passed the line ofthe axles, when its weight overbalances one side, and the animal isprecipitated into the pit. The slab then comes back into a horizontalposition as before, and is ready to receive another deer. The animalsare attracted by moss and lichens placed for them on the opposite sideof the trap--in such a way that they cannot be reached without crossingthe slab. In this sort of trap several deer are frequently caughtduring a single day. "

Norman knew another mode of hunting practised by the Esquimaux, andproposed that the party should proceed in search of the herd upon thefollowing day; when, should they succeed in finding the deer, he wouldshow them how the thing was done: and he had no doubt of their beingable to make a good hunt of it. All agreed to this proposal, as itwould be of great importance to them to kill a large number of theseanimals. It is true they had now provision enough to serve for severaldays--but there were perhaps months, not days, to be provided for. Theybelieved that they could not be far from the wooded countries near thebanks of the Mackenzie, as some kinds of the animal they had met withwere only to be found near timber during the winter season. But what ofthat? Even on the banks of the great river itself they might notsucceed in procuring game. They resolved, therefore, to track the herdof deer which Norman had seen; and for this purpose they agreed to makea stay of some days at their present camp. 

CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT. 

A BATTLE WITH WOLVES. 

Next morning they were up by early daybreak. The days were now only afew hours in length, for it was mid-winter, and they were but three orfour degrees south of the Arctic circle. Of course they would requireall the day for the intended hunt of the caribou, as they might have tofollow the track of the herd for many miles before coming up with theanimals. Lucien was to remain by the camp, as it would never do toleave the animals they had already lulled without some guard. To havehung them on the trees, would have put them out of the reach of bothwolves and foxes; but the lynx and wolverene are both tree-climbers, andcould easily have got at them there. They had reason to believe therewere wolverenes about; for these fierce and destructive beasts are foundin every part of the fur countries--wherever there exist other animalsupon which they can prey. Eagles, hawks, and owls, moreover, would havepicked the partridges from the branches of the trees without difficulty. One proposed burying them in the snow; but Norman assured them that theArctic foxes could scent them out, and dig them up in a few minutes. Then it was suggested to cover them under a pile of stones, as therewere plenty of these lying about. To this Norman also objected, sayingthat the wolverene could pull off any stones they were able to pile uponthem--as this creature in its fore-legs possesses more than the strengthof a man. Besides, it was not unlikely that one of the great brownbears, --a species entirely different from either the black or grizzlybears, and which is only met with on the Barren Grounds--might comeranging that way; and he could soon toss over any stone-heap they mightbuild. On the whole it was better that one of the four should remain bythe camp; and Lucien, who cared less about hunting than any of them, willingly agreed to be the one. 

Their arrangements were soon completed, and the three hunters set out. They did not go straight towards the place where Norman had found thedeer upon the preceding day, but took a cross-cut over the hills. Thiswas by Norman's advice, who guided himself by the wind--which had notchanged since the previous day. He knew that the caribou in feedingalways travel _against_ the wind; and he expected therefore to find themsomewhere in the direction from which it was blowing. Following acourse, which angled with that of the wind, they kept on, expecting soonto strike the trail of the herd. 

Meanwhile Lucien, left to himself, was not idle. He had to prepare theflesh of the different animals, so as to render it fit to be carriedalong. Nothing was required farther than to skin and cut them up. Neither salting nor drying was necessary, for the flesh of one and allhad got frozen as stiff as a stone, and in this way it would keep duringthe whole winter. The wolf was skinned with the others, but this wasbecause his fine skin was wanted. His flesh was not intended to beeaten--although only a day or two before any one of the party would havebeen glad of such a meal. Not only the Indians, but the voyageurs andfur-traders, while journeying through these inhospitable wilds, areoften but too delighted to get a dinner of wolf-meat. The ermine andthe little mouse were the only other creatures of the collection thatwere deemed uneatable. As to the Arctic fox and the lynx, the flesh ofboth these creatures is highly esteemed, and is white and tender, almostas much so as the hares upon which they feed. The snowy owl too, thejerfalcon, and the eagle, were looked upon as part of the larder--theflesh of all being almost as good as that of the grouse. Had it been afishing eagle--such as the bald-head--the case would have beendifferent, for these last, on account of their peculiar food, taste rankand disagreeable. But there was no danger of their falling in with afishing eagle at that place. These can only exist where there is _open_water. Hence the cause of their annual migrations to the southward, when the lakes and rivers of the fur countries become covered with theirwinter ice. 

Though Lucien remained quietly at the camp he was not without adventuresto keep him from wearying. While he was singeing his grouse his eyehappened to fall upon the shadow of a bird passing over the snow. Onlooking up he saw a very large bird, nearly as big as an eagle, flyingsoftly about in wide circles. It was of a mottled-brown colour; but itsshort neck and great round head told the naturalist at a glance that itwas a bird of the owl genus. It was the largest of the kind that Lucienhad ever seen, and was, in fact, the largest known in America--the"great cinereous owl" (_Strix cinerea_). Now and then it would alightupon a rock or tree, at the distance of an hundred yards or so from thecamp; where it would watch the operations of Lucien, evidently inclinedto help him in dissecting some of the animals. Whenever he took up hisgun and tried to approach within shot, it would rise into the air again, always keeping out of range. Lucien was provoked at this--for hewished, as a naturalist, to examine the bird, and for this purpose tokill it, of course; but the owl seemed determined that he should do nosuch thing. 

At length, however, Lucien resolved upon a plan to decoy the creaturewithin shot. Taking up one of the grouse, he flung it out upon the snowsome thirty yards from the fire. No sooner had he done so, than theowl, at sight of the tempting morsel, left aside both its shyness andprudence, and sailed gently forward; then, hovering for a moment overthe ground, hooked the grouse upon its claws, and was about to carry itoff, when a bullet from Lucien's rifle, just in the "nick of time, " puta stop to its further flight, and dropped the creature dead upon thesnow. 

Lucien picked it up and brought it to the camp, where he passed sometime in making notes upon its size, colour, and other peculiarities. The owl measured exactly two feet in length from the point of the billto the end of the tail; and its "alar spread, " as naturalists term it, was full five feet in extent. It was of a clove-brown colour, beautifully mottled with white, and its bill and eyes were of a brightgamboge yellow. Like all of its tribe that winter in the Arctic wilds, it was feathered to the toes. Lucien reflected that this species livesmore in the woods than the "great snowy owl, " and, as he had heard, isnever found far out on the Barren Grounds during winter. This fact, therefore, was a pleasant one to reflect upon, for it confirmed thetestimony which the travellers had already obtained from several of theother creatures they had killed--that is to say, that they must be inthe neighbourhood of some timbered country. 

Lucien had hardly finished his examination of the owl when he was calledupon to witness another incident of a much more exciting nature. Ahill, as already mentioned, or rather a ridge, rose up from the oppositeshore of the lake by which the camp was pitched. The declivity of thishill fronted the lake, and sloped gradually back from the edge of thewater. Its whole face was smooth and treeless, covered with a layer ofpure snow. The camp commanded a full view of it up to its very crest. 

As Lucien was sitting quietly by the fire a singular sound, or rathercontinuation of sounds, fell upon his ear. It somewhat resembled thebaying of hounds at a distance; and at first he was inclined to believethat it was Marengo on a view-hunt after the deer. On listening moreattentively, however, he observed that the sounds came from more thanone animal; and also, that they bore more resemblance to the howling ofwolves than the deep-toned bay of a bloodhound. This, in fact, it was;for the next moment a caribou shot up over the crest of the hill, andwas seen stretching at full gallop down the smooth declivity in thedirection of the lake. Not twenty paces in its rear followed a stringof howling animals, evidently in pursuit of it. There were a dozen ofthem in all, and they were running exactly like hounds upon the "viewholloa. " Lucien saw at a glance they were wolves. Most of them weredappled-grey and white, while some were of a pure white colour. Any oneof them was nearly as large as the caribou itself; for in these parts--around Great Slave Lake--the wolf grows to his largest size. 

The caribou gained upon them as it bounded down the slope of the hill. It was evidently making for the lake, believing, no doubt, that theblack ice upon its surface was water, and that in that element it wouldhave the advantage of its pursuers, for the caribou is a splendidswimmer. Nearly all deer when hunted take to the water--to throw offthe dogs, or escape from men--and to this habit the reindeer makes noexception. 

Down the hill swept the chase, Lucien having a full view both ofpursuers and pursued. The deer ran boldly. It seemed to have gatheredfresh confidence at sight of the lake, while the same object caused itspursuers a feeling of disappointment. They knew they were no match fora caribou in the water, as no doubt many a one had escaped them in thatelement. It is not likely, however, that they made reflections of thissort. There was but little time. From the moment of their appearanceupon the crest of the hill till the chase arrived at the edge of thelake, was but a few seconds. On reaching the shore the caribou made nostop; but bounded forward in the same way as if it had been springingupon water. Most likely it expected to hear a plunge; but, instead ofthat, its hoofs came down upon the hard ice; and, by the impulse thusgiven, the animal shot out with the velocity of a skater. Strange tosay, it still kept its feet; but, now seemingly overcome by surprise, and knowing the advantage its pursuers would have over it upon theslippery ice, it began to plunge and flounder, and once or twice came toits knees. The hungry pursuers appeared to recognise their advantage atonce, for their howling opened with a fresh burst, and they quickenedtheir pace. Their sharp claws enabled them to gallop over the ice attop speed; and one large brute that led the pack soon came up with thedeer, sprang upon it, and bit it in the flank. This brought the deerupon its haunches, and at once put an end to the chase. The animal washardly down upon the ice, when the foremost wolves coming upprecipitated themselves upon its body, and began to devour it. 

It was about the middle of the lake where the caribou had beenovertaken. At the time it first reached the ice, Lucien had laid holdof his rifle and run forward in order to meet the animal halfway, and, if possible, get a shot at it. Now that the creature was killed, hecontinued on with the design of driving off the wolves, and securing thecarcass of the deer for himself. He kept along the ice until he waswithin less than twenty yards of the pack, when, seeing that the fiercebrutes had torn the deer to pieces, and perceiving, moreover, that theyexhibited no fear of himself, he began to think he might be in danger byadvancing any nearer. Perhaps a shot from his rifle would scatter them, and without further reflection he raised the piece, and fired. One ofthe wolves kicked over upon the ice, and lay quite dead; but the others, to Lucien's great surprise, instead of being frightened off, immediatelysprang upon their dead companion, and commenced tearing and devouringit, just as they had done the deer!

The sight filled Lucien with alarm; which was increased at seeingseveral of the wolves--that had been beaten by the others from thequarry--commence making demonstrations towards himself! Lucien nowtrembled for his safety, and no wonder. He was near the middle of thelake upon slippery ice. To attempt running back to the camp would behazardous; the wolves could overtake him before he had got halfway, andhe felt certain that any signs of fear on his part would be the signalfor the fierce brutes to assail him. 

For some moments he was irresolute how to act. He had commenced loadinghis gun, but his fingers were numbed with the cold, and it was a goodwhile before he could get the piece ready for a second fire. Hesucceeded at length. He did not fire then, but resolved to keep thecharge for a more desperate crisis. Could he but reach the camp therewere trees near it, and one of these he might climb. This was his onlyhope, in case the wolves attacked him, and he knew it was. Instead ofturning and running for this point, he began to back for it stealthilyand with caution, keeping his front all the while towards the wolves, and his eyes fixed upon them. He had not got many yards, when heperceived to his horror, that the whole pack were in motion, and _comingafter him_! It was a terrible sight, and Lucien, seeing that byretreating he only drew them on, stopped and held his rifle in athreatening attitude. The wolves were now within twenty yards of him;but, instead of moving any longer directly towards him, they broke intotwo lines, swept past on opposite sides of him, and then circling round, met each other in his rear. _His retreat was cut off_!

He now stood upon the ice with the fierce wolves forming a ring aroundhim, whose diameter was not the six lengths of his gun, and _every_moment growing shorter and shorter. The prospect was appalling. Itwould have caused the stoutest heart to quail, and Lucien's wasterrified. He shouted at the top of his voice. He fired his rifle atthe nearest. The brute fell, but the others showed no symptoms of fear;they only grew more furious. Lucien clubbed his gun--the last resort insuch cases--and laid around him with all his might; but he was in dangerof slipping upon the ice, and his efforts were feeble. Once down henever would have risen again, for his fierce assailants would havesprung upon him like tigers. As it was, he felt but little hope. Hebelieved himself lost. The teeth of the ferocious monsters gleamedunder his eyes. He was growing weaker and weaker, yet still he battledon, and swept his gun around him with the energy of despair. Such astruggle could not have continued much longer. Lucien's fate would havebeen sealed in a very few minutes more, had not relief arrived in someshape or other. But it did come. A loud shout was heard upon the hill;and Lucien, glancing suddenly towards it, saw several forms rushingdownward to the lake! It was the hunting party returned, and in amoment more they were crossing the ice to his rescue. Lucien gainingconfidence fought with fresh vigour. The wolves busy in their attackhad either not heard or were regardless of the new-comers; but the"crack, crack" of the guns--repeated no less than four times--and thenthe nearer reports of pistols, made a speedy impression upon the brutes, and in a short while half their number were seen tumbling and kickingupon the ice. The rest, uttering their hideous howls, took to flight, and soon disappeared from the valley; and Lucien, half dead withfatigue, staggered into the arms of his deliverers. 

No less than seven of the wolves were killed in the affray--two of whichLucien had shot himself. One or two were only wounded, but so badly, that they could not get away; and these were handed over to the tendermercies of Marengo, who amused himself for some time after by worryingthem to death. 

The hunting party had made a good day of it. They had fallen in withthe caribou, and had killed three of them. These they were bringing tocamp, but had dropped them upon the hill, on perceiving the perilousposition of Lucien. They now went back, and having carried the deer totheir camping-place, were soon engaged in the pleasant occupation ofeating a savoury dinner. Lucien soon recovered from his fright andfatigue, and amused his companions by giving an account of theadventures that had befallen him in their absence. 

CHAPTER THIRTY NINE. 

END OF THE "VOYAGE. "

Our party remained several days at this place, until they had made afresh stock of "pemmican" from the flesh of the caribou, several more ofwhich they succeeded in killing; and then, arranging everything anew, and taking with them such skins as they wanted, they continued theirjourney. 

They had two days' hard travelling through a rocky mountainous country, where they could not find a stick of wood to cook their meals with, andwere exposed to cold more than at any other place. Both Francois andLucien had their faces frost-bitten; but they were cured by Norman, whoprevented them from going near a fire until he had well rubbed the partswith soft snow. 

The rocks through which they passed were in many places covered with the_tripe de roche (Gyrophora_) of several species; but our voyageurs carednothing about it so long as their pemmican lasted, and of that each ofthem had nearly as much as he could carry. 

In the most dreary part of the mountains they chanced upon a herd ofthose curious animals, the musk-oxen, and shot one of them; but the meattasted so rank, and smelt so strongly of musk, that the whole of it wasleft to the wolves, foxes, and other preying creatures of these parts. 

On the third day, after leaving their camp by the lake, a pleasantprospect opened before them. It was the valley of the Mackenzie, stretching to the west, and extending north and south as far as the eyecould reach, covered with forests of pine and poplar, and other largetrees. Of course the landscape was a winter one, as the river was boundup in ice, and the trees themselves were half-white with frozen snow;but after the dreary scenery of the Barren Grounds, even this appearedwarm and summer-like. There was no longer any danger they should bewithout a good fire to cook their dinners, or warm themselves at, and awooded country offers a better prospect of game. The sight, therefore, of a great forest was cheering; and our travellers, in high spirits, planted their tent upon the banks of the great Northern river. They hadstill many hundred miles to go before arriving at their destination; butthey determined to continue their journey without much delay, followingthe river as a guide. No more "near cuts" were to be taken in future. They had learned, from their recent experience, that "the shortest wayacross is sometimes the longest way round, " and they resolved to profitby the lesson. I hope, boy reader, you too will remember it. 

After reaching the Mackenzie the voyageurs halted one day, and upon thenext commenced their journey down-stream. Sometimes they kept upon thebank, but at times, for a change, they travelled upon the ice of theriver. There was no danger of its giving way under them, for it wasmore than a foot in thickness, and would have supported a loaded waggonand horses, without even cracking. 

They were now drawing near the Arctic circle, and the days grew shorterand shorter as they advanced. But this did not much interfere withtheir travelling. The long nights of the Polar regions are not likethose of more Southern latitudes. They are sometimes so clear, that onemay read the smallest print. What with the coruscations of the auroraborealis, and the cheerful gleaming of the Northern constellations, onemay travel without difficulty throughout the livelong night. I am sure, my young friend, you have made good use of your globes, and need not betold that the length of both nights and days, as you approach the pole, depends upon two things--the latitude of the place, and the season ofthe year; and were you to spend a whole year _leaning against the poleitself_, (!) you would _live but one day and one night_--each of themsix months in length. 

But no doubt you know all these things without my telling you of them, and you are impatient to hear not about that, but whether the youngvoyageurs safely reached the end of their journey. That question Ianswer briefly at once--they did. 

Some distance below the point where they had struck the Mackenzie, theyfell in with a winter encampment of Dog-rib Indians. Some of thesepeople had been to the Fort to trade; and Norman being known to them, heand his Southern cousins were received with much hospitality. All theirwants were provided for, as far as it lay in the power of these poorpeople to do; but the most valuable thing obtained from the Indians wasa full set of dogs and dog-sledges for the whole party. These werefurnished by the chief, upon the understanding that he should be paidfor them on his next visit to the Fort. Although the reindeer of NorthAmerica are not trained to the sledge by the Esquimaux and Indians, several kinds of dogs are; and a single pair of these faithful creatureswill draw a full-grown man at a rate that exceeds almost every othermode of travelling--steam excepted. When our voyageurs, therefore, flung away their snow-shoes, and, wrapped in their skin cloaks, seatedthemselves snugly in their dog-sledges, the five hundred miles thatseparated them from the Fort were soon reduced to nothing; and oneafternoon, four small sledges, each carrying a "young voyageur, " with alarge bloodhound galloping in the rear, were seen driving up to thestockade fence surrounding the Fort. Before they had quite reached thegate, there was a general rush of trappers, traders, voyageurs, _coureurs-des-bois_, and other _employes_, to reach them; and the nextmoment they were lost in the midst of the people who crowded out of theFort to welcome them. This was their hour of happiness and joy. 

To me there is an hour of regret, and I hope, boy reader, to you aswell--the hour of our parting with the "Young _Voyageurs_. "

THE END.