CHAPTER XXX.
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," or, as it is better known, the "whiskey Jack." Thelatter name it receives from the voyageurs, on account of theresemblance of its Indian appellation, "whiskae-shaw-neesh" to the words"whiskey John." Although sometimes called the "cinereous crow," the birdis a true jay.
It is one of the most inelegant of the genus, being of a dull greycolour, and not particularly graceful in its form. Its plumage,moreover, does not consist of webbed feathers, but rather more resembleshair; nor does its voice make up for the plainness of its appearance, asis the case with some birds. On the contrary, the voice of "whiskeyJack" is plaintive and squeaking, though he is something of a mocker inhis way, and frequently imitates the notes of other birds. He is one ofthose creatures that frequent the habitations of man, and there is nota fur post, or fort, in all the Hudson's Bay territory, where "whiskeyJack" is not familiarly known.
He is far from being a favourite, however, as, like his near relativethe magpie, he is a great thief, and will follow the marten-trapper allday while baiting his traps, perching upon a tree until the bait is set,and then pouncing down, and carrying it off. He frequently pilfers smallarticles from the forts and encampments, and is so bold as to enter thetents, and seize food out of any vessel that may contain it.Notwithstanding all this, he is a favourite with the traveller throughthese inhospitable regions. No matter how barren the spot where thevoyageur may make his camp, his tent will hardly be pitched, before hereceives a visit from "whiskey Jack," who comes, of course, to pick upany crumbs that may fall. His company, therefore, in a region where allother wild creatures shun the society of man, endears him to the lonelytraveller.
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 the edgeof the pot, as it hung over the fire, and quietly looking into it,appeared to scrutinize 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 to getbehind him, he fired at the more distant one where it sat upon the tent,and took the other on the wing.
Both shots were successful. The two jays fell, and were soon divested oftheir soft, silky, hair-like plumage, and dropped into the boiling pot.They did not weigh together more than about six or seven ounces; buteven that was accounted something under present circumstances; and, withthe _tripe de roche_, a much better breakfast was made than they hadanticipated.
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, andpassing 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 starvingmen--could be met with. They encamped in a plain, where not a treestood--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 their propercourse. "Let us first reach yonder hill," proposed Lucien. "If nothingis 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. Thedog 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 scrutinized, 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-top wasa sort of table plain, of about three hundred yards in diameter. It wascovered with snow, nearly a foot in depth. A few heads of withered grasswere seen above the surface, but not enough to subdue the uniform whitethat 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 have goneanother mile, and all of them were tottering in their tracks. Marengohad arrived upon the summit, and stood a little to one side, with thesledge 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 the sametime, and stood as if looking down the hill. The countenances of allthree betokened extreme sorrow. There was a tear in Basil's eye that hewas 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 is, perhaps, the most beautiful, as it is one of the mostpowerful birds of its genus--of which there are more than a dozen inNorth America. It is a bird of the Polar regions--even the mostremote--and in the dead of winter it is found within the Arctic circle,on both Continents--although at the same season it also wanders farthersouth. It dwells upon the Barren Grounds as well as in wooded districts.In the former it squats upon the snow, where its peculiar colour oftenprevents it from being noticed by the passing hunter. Nature hasfurnished it with every protection from the cold. Its plumage is thick,closely matted, and downy, and it is feathered to the very eyes--so thatits legs appear as large as those of a good-sized dog. The bill, too, iscompletely hidden under a mass of feathers that cover its face, and noteven 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 exist inthe 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 the approachof winter; while several, as the snowy owl, remain to prey upon theptarmigan, the hares, and other small quadrupeds, who, like themselves,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 the summittable, and at first sight appeared to be only a lump of snow; but uponcloser inspection, two little round spots of a dark colour, and abovethese two elongated black marks, could be seen. Looking steadily, theeye at length traced the outlines of an animal, that sat in a crouchingattitude. The round spots were its eyes, and the black marks above themwere tips of a pair of very long ears. All the rest of its body wascovered with a soft white fur, hardly to be distinguished from the snowupon 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 ofyou--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. Keep thedog quiet. I'll manage puss, if the owl hasn't scared her too badly.That scream has started her out of her form. I'm certain she wasn't thatway before. Maybe she'll sit it out. Lucky the sun's high--don't move astep. Have the dog ready, but hold him tight, and keep a sharp look outif 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 going_from_ 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. Thesestood watching him with beating hearts, for they knew that the life ofMarengo, and perhaps their own as well, depended on the shot. Norman hadchosen his place, so that in case the hare bolted, she might run towardsthem, and give them the chance of a flying shot. His gun was already athis shoulder--his finger rested on the trigger, and the boys wereexpecting the report, when again the shadow of a bird flitted over thesnow, a loud human-like scream sounded in their ears, and the hare wasseen to spring up, and stretch her long legs in flight. At the sameinstant the great snowy owl was observed wheeling above, and threateningto 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 adoor-nail. 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 little god,stood enveloped in a halo of blue smoke. Francois was the hero of thehour.
Marengo rushed forward and seized the struggling owl, that snapped itsbill at him like a watchman's rattle. But Marengo did not care for that;and seizing its head in his teeth, gave it a crunch that at once put anend 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" and oneof the largest of its species--not less than fifteen pounds in weight.Its fur, soft and white like swan-down, was stained with red blood. Itwas not quite dead. Its little heart yet beat faintly, and the light oflife was still shining from its beautiful honey-coloured eyes. Both itand the owl were taken up and carried to the sledge, which was once moreattached to Marengo, as the party intended to go forward and halt underthe 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, and passing down thehill, the travellers soon stood in their midst. Presently was heard thechipping sound of an axe and crash of falling timber, and in a fewmoments after a column of smoke was seen soaring up out of the valley,and curling cheerfully towards the bright blue sky.