It may be remarked in passing that one of the insect terrors of the Athabaska region, the so-called “bulldog” (a species of Tabanidae), did not come to my attention as a pest at Nueltin Lake though I collected two species of Tabanus. Malloch (1919), in reporting on the Diptera of the Canadian Arctic Expedition of 1913-18, does not include a single species of Tabanidae. On the other hand, Twinn (1950: 18) states that 17 species have been found at Churchill; he refers to tabanids as “very abundant in forested regions of the North.” The “bulldog” may be presumed to contribute to the summer misery of the Woodland Caribou and the Moose as well as of man.
The season during which the adult warble flies and nostril flies harass the Caribou probably lasts only a few weeks in July and August. While the adults evidently cause no pain, they no doubt arouse an instinctive dread in the prospective hosts of their larvae. While I have no information as to whether they follow the hosts into the wooded country, it would appear quite likely that they do so if we are to credit statements by Franklin (1823: 242), Richardson (1829: 251), and B. R. Ross (1861: 438) that these pests infest the Woodland Caribou as well as the Barren Ground species. Furthermore, Cephenemyia has been reported in Pennsylvania as a parasite of the White-tailed Deer (Odocoileus) (Stewart, 1930?). The scarcity of available study material may be judged from the fact that the Canadian Arctic Expedition of 1913-18 secured only three adults of Oedemagena and none of Cephenemyia (Malloch, 1919: 55-56).
From the foregoing it may be seen that the wooded country represents a virtually fly-free haven for the Barren Ground Caribou during nearly ten months of the year. Is it any wonder, then, that they hasten throughout August toward or into the shelter of the woods, to gain freedom from the winged scourges of the Barrens? (See also Retrograde autumnal movement.)
In the spring migration of 1947 the last of the Caribou passed the Windy River area on July 1, just before the mosquitoes and black flies had become seriously troublesome. It might be surmised that the animals keep marching northward in advance of the appearance of these flies, as long as that is feasible; and that when fairly overwhelmed by the winged hordes, they desist from further progress in that direction. The fawns are born at such a time (in late May or June) as to pass their first few tender weeks before becoming subject to serious insect attacks.
(See also Retrograde autumnal movement; Relations to flies.)
References.—Richardson, “1825”: 328-329; Hoare, 1930: 33, 37-38; Jacobi, 1931: 193-195; Soper, 1936: 429; Hamilton, 1939: 247, 301; Clarke, 1940: 95-96; Porsild, 1943: 389; Banfield, 1951a: 27-29.
Effect of combined environmental factors on distribution
The sum total of environmental factors apparently makes the Barren Grounds a distinctly more favorable summer habitat for the present species than the wooded country, since the latter region is virtually entirely deserted at that season. In general, the wooded country must be a more favorable winter habitat, since the bulk of the animals evidently resort to it at that time; yet its advantages are by no means clear-cut or overwhelming, since a very considerable proportion of the Caribou elect to spend the winter on the Barrens (Hanbury, 1904: 93, 120, 139; Hoare, 1930: 22; Clarke, 1940: 8-9, 11, fig. 4; Anonymous, 1952: 267).
Relations to man
The Caribou dominates the thoughts, the speech, and the general human activities of the Barren Grounds. As the chief food resource of that region and the adjacent timbered country, it plays a highly important role in the economy of both primitive and civilized man. As long as those regions were occupied only by native Eskimos and Indians, employing such primitive weapons as bows and spears, the species was in no danger. Its vast numbers were maintained steadily from generation to generation, and were perhaps limited only by the grazing or browsing capacity of their range.
With the advent of civilized man and the placing of firearms in the hands of the natives, the situation has deteriorated at a rate that becomes accelerated with the passage of time. If it had not been for the encroachment of civilization and the introduction of its instruments of destruction, the natives would have been assured of a proper meat supply for an indefinite period. Here and there some of them would miss a caribou migration and starve to death; yet the animals have been so generally available that many of the natives even today lack the foresight to put up an adequate supply of fish as an alternative winter food.
Almost everywhere the annual slaughter is both excessive and wasteful. Few inhabitants of the North, whether native or white, stay their hands while Caribou are present and ammunition is available. There is undue reliance on a continuation of past abundance, and an indifference to the welfare or rights of posterity. The whole culture of the inland Eskimos and the northern Indians (the Caribou-eater Chipewyans in particular) is so thoroughly based upon Caribou that the decimation of these animals would mean a fundamental modification or virtual extermination of their culture.
The average trapper of the Barren Grounds apparently aims at killing annually at least 100 Caribou. Only a small portion is required to feed himself and his family. The rest is designed for use as fox bait and dog feed. In September he goes over his trap-line, perhaps 100 miles long, and endeavors to kill Caribou at convenient intervals throughout its length. (In October, 1944, a single trapper killed 90 during two days of a big movement.) The animals are left where they fall. Presently spells of warm weather may render the meat unsuitable for any one with more fastidious tastes than a hardy man of the Barrens. In any event, the beasts of the field evidently get the lion’s share, even when the trapper endeavors to cover the carcasses with rocks or spruces. Bears, Wolves, Foxes, Weasels, Wolverines, Lemmings, Rough-legged Hawks, Ravens, and Canada Jays help themselves to the free feast. Bears in particular are likely to consume the whole carcass; in the autumns of 1944 and 1947 they thus disposed of about 70 and 40 caribou bodies, respectively, within a few miles of the Windy River post. If the season turns out to be a particularly poor one for Arctic Foxes, the trapper may abandon his trap-line for that winter, and dozens or scores of Caribou will have been sacrificed in vain.
Fish, which are available in abundance nearly everywhere, would serve well enough for both fox bait and dog feed. But the average trapper prefers to secure Caribou—a less laborious matter than putting up a winter’s supply of fish; at the same time he may admit that fish are easier to handle in feeding and are preferable from that point of view. Charles Schweder has rarely found Caribou along his trap-line between the upper Kazan River and Dubawnt Lake. By using fish (out of the Little Dubawnt River) for fox bait, he avoids the necessity of making an early fall trip over that long distance to secure Caribou for his winter operations. A trapper from northern Manitoba informed me that the local Indians were complying with a recent government regulation that each owner must put up a certain number of fish for the consumption of his dogs—but, they were still feeding them with Caribou. The Split Lake band of Indians on the Nelson River, Manitoba, were reported to have killed 4,000 of the animals during the winter of 1946-47; the greater part of these were utilized ingloriously as dog feed.
The hunting of such an extraordinarily unwary animal as the Barren Ground Caribou calls for extremely little skill. Scarcely anything more is required of the hunter (at least in southwestern Keewatin) than to place himself on their line of march and to await their arrival. No concealment is necessary, but quick movements are to be avoided, and the direction of the wind should be such that it will not carry the dread human scent to the animals. Even in perfectly open terrain one may generally walk slowly up to within shooting distance of resting Caribou. But if they are on the march and have already gone past, the hunter may not succeed in getting close to them. Pursuing them on the run is likely to send them off in a panic. (There is some evidence that on the Arctic Coast and in the Barren Grounds of Mackenzie, where hunters are probably more numerous than in southwestern Keewatin, the Caribou are usually much more wary—cf. Amundsen, 1908, 1: 103; Stefánsson, 1913b: 278; Blanchet, 1925: 34; Ingstad, 1933: 88.) In the section on Disposition the destruction of about a quarter of a herd of 100 or more by a single hunter is described. On September 9 an Eskimo boy killed 13. On November 3 eight out of a herd of 50 were secured by another hunter in a few minutes’ time. During the autumn migration of 1947 one of the Eskimos on the upper Kazan had killed 85 before the end of September. This band of Eskimos is said to have once slaughtered 500 animals, half of them in the river, where they did not even bother to pull them out; they had killed for the sheer delight of killing rather than for utilization. It is customary for them to spear more animals than they shoot. A trader’s family in the Nueltin Lake region used to kill 500 Caribou per year for their own use and for their 23 dogs. In one instance a number of Caribou were shot from across a river; several hours elapsed before a canoe became available, and by that time the bodies were frozen so stiff that no attempt was made to use them. It was reported that tractor crews operating between Reindeer Lake and Flin Flon brought out many hind quarters to sell illegally at the latter point, leaving other parts of the bodies along the way. In the winter of 1944-45 Nueltin Lake was said to have been covered with the bodies of Caribou that the Chipewyans had shot for “fun” and had neglected to utilize. It was also reported that in May, 1947, there were many neglected bodies in the vicinity of Duck Lake, the local Chipewyans having killed the animals during the previous fall; meanwhile the spring migration had commenced and was furnishing all the fresh meat required.
In the Windy River area nearly all the Caribou were secured with rifles. A few, however, were speared by the Eskimo boy as they swam across Windy Bay. The spears used here are manufactured articles of iron, fitted to a wooden shaft.
Katello, a Kazan River Eskimo, informed Charles Schweder that his people used to construct snow-covered pits for the Caribou to fall into. The present generation is considered too lazy to undertake such a task. Although information is lacking in the present case, urine may have been employed to entice the Caribou into these pits, as reported by Hanbury (1904: 114-115, 123, fig.).
A general deterioration of antler size in the Barren Ground Caribou seems to constitute a case parallel with that of the European Red Deer (Cervus elaphus elaphus). The reason is evidently the same in each case—the long-continued selection by hunters of old males with the best “heads.” Only the motive differs decidedly in each case: the European hunter looks upon the antlers themselves as the main prize; the Eskimo and the Indian are indifferent to these ornaments, but realize that the bucks with great antlers provide the most meat and fat. The bucks are said to become much fatter than the does. The Eskimos are especially keen on getting the big bucks. According to Charles Schweder, the old antlers left at the river crossings from bygone days are superior in size to those of the present day. He himself has never secured a set of antlers equal to one (fig. 25) lying on the shore of Simons’ Lake; it may have been there for 20 or 30 years prior to 1947.
From about mid-September to nearly mid-October the flesh is counted upon as being in especially fine condition. In August, 1947, the animals had scarcely any fat, but by the middle of September the roasts were delicious. On October 8 the fresh strips of back fat from several bucks weighed about 5 to 10 lbs. each. A good many of these strips were put in a storehouse at Windy River for winter use. Charles Schweder remarked on having seen such a piece of fat 3 inches thick. At the rutting season, which commences about mid-October, the bucks become very poor and thin. They neglect their feeding and do not have full stomachs, as earlier in the season. Their fat becomes tinted with red, and the flesh becomes so musky that even the dogs and the Wolves disdain it. (See also the section on Fat.)
In some cases, when a local Caribou is being dressed, a part of the stomach is utilized as a receptacle into which the blood is dipped from the body cavity with the hands, in Eskimo style. The blood goes into the making of soup. The tripe also is relished. Once I found the children of our camp boiling up a section of the aorta as a delicacy. The ribs are commonly impaled on a stick thrust into the ground and roasted in front of an open fire. Leg bones may be cracked to render the raw marrow accessible; if they are cooked, the marrow may be blown out of the open ends with the mouth. The Padleimiut consume much of the meat in the raw state, and frequently wash it down with hot tea.
Much needless wounding and suffering of the Caribou, as well as waste of valuable resources, result from extensive use of such a small-calibred rifle as the .22. It may seem remarkable that such a large animal should succumb at all to such a slight weapon; but it does happen, usually after a number of shots. For example, an Eskimo boy secured 13 Caribou in a single day with a .22. On the other hand, many of the animals must get away from the hunter, only to die, after much suffering, at a considerable distance, where they are not likely to be recovered and utilized. The absolute outlawing of the use of the .22 on such large game would seem to be in order.
Once Charles Schweder shot a doe whose jaw had been broken by a bullet. A piece of the bone had “grown into the tongue” but the jaw was healed.
At the Windy River post, in the latter part of summer, portions of the caribou bodies are placed in the river not merely for refrigeration, but for protection from blowflies. Such meat is used mainly for the dogs. The Eskimos are said not to engage in this practice. Consequently, some of the caribou bodies lying about their camps become masses of maggots.
On the last day of September I observed how Charles Schweder prepared a fresh caribou body in the field and endeavored to protect it from beasts and birds. First he cut off the head with his hunting-knife; then the hind legs, which were severed very readily at the hip joint. Next he opened the body cavity and pulled out the viscera, setting aside a mass of fat (apparently the omentum). The hind legs were placed beneath the body, and the head was thrust into the opening of the abdominal cavity, as an obstacle to such scavengers as Herring Gulls, Rough-legged Hawks, Canada Jays, Ravens, and Foxes (cf. Downes, 1943: 227, 228). The skin was left on the body, and the whole was covered with small spruce tops.
An interesting device in the hunting of Caribou consists of “stone men”A (Harper, 1949: 231, fig.). They are made of rocks, piled one upon another in such a manner as to faintly suggest a human figure. “Moss” (either moss or lichens) is added to some of them to enhance the human appearance. A considerable number may be seen in the Windy River area, where they are generally placed along the summits of the ridges. Construction was probably begun many years ago by natives, and has been continued by the present residents. When Caribou, in fleeing from a hunter, catch sight of these “stone men,” they are likely to pause in suspicion of the figures, and to be deflected from their chosen course. This may give the hunter a chance to come within range of the animals. The Kazan River Eskimos are said to use converging lines of such rock piles to direct migrating Caribou to certain river-crossings, where the hunters lie in wait for them. Occasionally a single pile is erected merely to mark the spot where a caribou body is left until the hunter can return with a dogteam to fetch the meat.
A. Inuksuit (sing. inuksuk).
On first securing one of the animals, the hunter makes a practice of cutting out the tongue and carrying it to camp in a pocket or a game-bag. On a subsequent trip, if there is sufficient snow on the ground, the meat is generally transported by dog sleigh or toboggan (cf. Harper, 1949: 231, fig.). Occasionally a hunter will carry it on his shoulder (fig. 4) or in a pack.
In all the Canadian North, as far as I am aware, the Windy River post is virtually the only place where summer transportation is accomplished by dog-drawn travois (fig. 5). This device, consisting of two trailing poles, with a small platform midway, is recognizable immediately by readers of Parkman’s Oregon Trail (1849), where its use by Indians of our Western Plains is mentioned again and again. The travois was introduced into this region by the late Charles Planchek?, a Czech? trapper of somewhat sinister repute, whose headquarters were at Putahow Lake. He was the “Eskimo Charlie” of Downes (1943: 160-161, pl.). In years gone by he took a travois with him on a visit to the Windy River area, and it was thereupon copied and subsequently used regularly by the Schweder family. Their Eskimo friends of the upper Kazan will occasionally borrow one, but I am not aware that they have made any travois of their own. During the summer the two younger boys of the Windy River post made a practice of hauling in caribou meat from the surrounding Barrens by means of travois.
In the latter part of summer some small pieces of caribou meat were occasionally laid on a stone for drying, in front of the door at the post. Other pieces were said to have been hung up in the air for the same purpose, without fire or smoke, out in the field where the animals were killed. Apparently blowflies did not pay much attention to this meat. No considerable quantity seemed to be preserved locally in this way. Three Caribou-eater Chipewyans from the south end of Nueltin Lake, who visited our camp in late October, were carrying dried meat with them as travel rations and eating it without cooking.
The larvae of the warble fly (Oedemagena tarandi), found beneath the skin of the Caribou, are relished by the Eskimos, being eaten apparently while alive and raw. The Eskimo boy of our camp continued this practice after his little sister had given it up. Hearne (1795: 197) reported the Indians as eating the warbles in his day.
Only a small proportion of the hides of the locally killed Caribou are preserved. A hide that would fetch only a dollar at Reindeer Lake would not be worth transporting more than 250 miles from Nueltin Lake. Hearne long ago (1795: 84) remarked on the remoteness of the hunting grounds from the trading posts as a barrier to trade in the skins; and this condition prevails to a large extent to the present day. Thus only such hides as are required for domestic use are kept. Tanning, while done by the Eskimos of the upper Kazan, is not undertaken by the residents on Windy River. Here the task of drying the hides is left mainly to the children of the camp. Most of them are pegged out on the summit of a gravelly ridge, wooden pegs being driven with a rock through slits in the edges of the skin (fig. 6). Now and then one is nailed to the outer wall of a log cabin (fig. 18).
One of the main uses of the hides is for winter clothing. The Windy River residents have their garments made by Eskimo women of the upper Kazan, whose tanning process leaves the fur intact. Early autumn hides, with new, comparatively short fur, are the ones in demand. The season for securing such hides is said to extend to mid-September. At that season the larvae of the warble fly have not developed far enough to have injured the hide appreciably. The long winter fur is much less suitable for clothing. In moderately cold weather a single coat (attigi), with the fur inside (fig. 16), is worn by the Eskimos. This coat, when made for a man, extends very little farther downward at the rear than at the front; but a woman’s coat is considerably longer at the rear. The bottom is generally provided with a fringe consisting of small strips of caribou skin, perhaps 4 inches long and 1/16 inch wide. In mid-winter another coat, with the fur outside (fig. 15), is slipped on over the other. Both are provided with hoods. Trousers, with the fur outside, are cut rather short at the bottom; some such material as rope is passed around the waist, without belt loops, to hold the trousers up. Boots (komik) of tanned caribou skin (fig. 16), reaching nearly to the knees, with the fur inside, make exceptionally warm footgear in winter. An extra piece is sewed on the sole, with the fur outside, but the hairs soon wear off. The seams are sewed with sinew. Another sort of boot, for summer use, is made of untanned skin, without the fur, and is more or less waterproof. Mittens (pahloot) have the fur outside; the thumb piece, of a length suitable for a short Eskimo thumb, does not properly fit a white man.
In the autumn of 1947 the migrating Caribou did not reach the territory of the Chipewyans about the south end of Nueltin Lake till about November 1—by which time the fur had grown so long that it was not suitable for clothing. When I inquired of Charles Schweder how these natives managed under such circumstances, he replied that nowadays they use very little skin clothing—just manufactured clothing. Certainly the latter type was being worn by three men of this tribe that visited the Windy River post in late October. In this connection it is interesting to note that in November Charles brought to Windy River a bundle of fawn skins that he had secured from an Eskimo on the upper Kazan. Presently he traded them to a Cree halfbreed from the Putahow River, who was to have them made into a coat for himself. In years gone by the above-mentioned Chipewyans must have found some means of securing caribou skins for themselves in August or September; they could have accomplished this by moving to the northern part of Nueltin Lake, provided the animals had not reached the southern part at the proper season.
From Charles Schweder I learned that the Hudson’s Bay Company acquires caribou skins (apparently tanned) from the Duck Lake Chipewyans at about a dollar apiece, puts them up in bales of perhaps 10 to 20 skins, and ships them by steamer from Churchill to Baffin Island or thereabouts, for use by the Eskimos. He had seen about 25 or 30 such bales being loaded on a steamer in September, 1947. This trade evidently results from the present scarcity of Caribou on Baffin Island (cf. Manning, 1943a: 47-50; Soper, 1944: 247-250; Banfield, 1949: 481). Moccasins of caribou skin, made by the Duck Lake Chipewyans, were on sale at Churchill.
The three Caribou-eater Chipewyans from the south end of Nueltin Lake brought mittens, gloves, and moccasins of caribou skin to trade at Windy River. Similar gloves were brought by a Cree halfbreed from the Putahow River.
At the Windy River post furred caribou skins served in upholstering the seat, back, and arms of a couple of home-made chairs. They were used also as mattresses or blankets, in the making of sleeping bags, and even as insulating material on the outside of the cabin (Harper, 1949: 226, 228, figs.). The Schweder boys also maintain tents of caribou skin at various points on their long trap-lines; they are much warmer than canvas tents, and require no outlay of cash. The skins are nailed on poles arranged in tepee form; the height of such a tent is about 10 feet, and the diameter 9 or 10 feet. There is a home-made stove inside, with the smoke-pipe projecting outside about halfway to the top of the tent.
The Eskimos of the Kazan River have large summer tents of caribou skin, and smaller ones of canvas. The former are the ones in which the drum dances are held. These Eskimos never make their winter houses wholly of snow, according to Charles Schweder, but use caribou skins for the roof.
In illustration of the primary importance of the Caribou to both primitive and civilized man in the Arctic and the sub-Arctic, the numerous cases of partial or complete starvation in the absence of Caribou may be cited. The chronicles of northern explorers are replete with them. A notable case is that of John Hornby and his two companions on the Thelon River in the winter of 1926-27 (Hoare, 1930: 25; Christian, 1937). In the autumn of 1946 only a small fraction of the normal caribou migration passed by the Eskimo camps on the upper Kazan River. These happy-go-lucky, utterly improvident people did not take steps to secure an alternative winter’s supply of fish, and by the following spring eight out of the band of 27 persons had succumbed directly or indirectly to starvation. (It is suspected that several were accounted for by anthropophagy.) Women, children, and dogs were the victims; no adult male succumbed. The casualties would doubtless have been more numerous if Charles Schweder had not reported the plight of the band when he made a trip to Reindeer Lake in March. Thereupon the government shipped emergency rations by plane as far as Nueltin Lake, and Charles transported them from that point by sleigh to the Kazan. Meanwhile he rescued two of the orphan children, took them to the Windy River post, and in a few more months formally adopted them.
Ethnological material from caribou products
In addition to the utilization of caribou products for the primary purposes of food, clothing, and shelter, as discussed in preceding pages, certain other uses of an ethnological nature may be mentioned here.
Charles Schweder spoke of the former Eskimo use of splint bones from the legs of Caribou as needles, after a hole had been drilled or burned through the larger end. They are about the same length as a large darning needle. These people commonly use the back sinew as thread or as wrapping on tools, drums, and the like. I saw a piece of back sinew being dried for future use at the Windy River post.
Either lard or caribou fat serves as fuel for an “Eskimo candle”; the wick is a bit of rag or moss. The heat of the flame melts the fat where it is spread out in some small receptacle like a can cover. When our other means of illumination gave out at the Windy River post, I worked or wrote notes for many hours by the light of one of these candles. It gives approximately as much illumination as an ordinary tallow candle. One disadvantage of using caribou fat for this purpose is the considerable amount of smoke that it produces.
The Eskimos make odd use of an antler as a brake for a sleigh, to prevent the harnessed dogs from running after any Caribou they may sight; on other occasions it retards the sleigh in descending a hill. Such an antler, that I found at the Windy River post, is notched near the base; a rope or thong, 2 or 3 feet in length, is fastened at one end to this notch, and at the other to the side of the sleigh. To apply the brake, the driver simply presses down the points of the antler into the snow or ice.
The drums used in the ceremonial dances of the Kazan River Eskimos are made of a piece of caribou skin stretched tightly over a circular frame of spruce and fastened in place with caribou sinew. They are about 3 feet in diameter.
In an Eskimo fish spear from the upper Kazan River an iron barb on one of the prongs is supported by a small piece of caribou antler and fastened with back sinew. The two large lateral prongs, of metal, are tied to the wooden shaft of the spear with braided sinew.
Two snow-knives have handles of antler, about 10 and 11 inches in length. One of the handles has been planed down, and is wrapped with sinew.
The handle of another implement, used in cleaning out grains of wood from a hole being drilled in wood, is also a piece of antler.
A woman’s knife, or ooloo, has a section of antler for a handle.
Strands of beads, used either for an ear pendant or for ornaments at the peak of a hood, have a caribou incisor fastened at the tip. The opposite end of the pendant is provided with a thin strip of caribou hide for fastening to a perforated ear lobe.
The willow stems of pipes are wrapped with back sinew.
Antler and sinew went into the making (by Anoteelik) of a “ring and pin” game.
References on relations to Eskimos and Indians.—Isham, 1949 (1743): 152-154; Dobbs, 1744: 19; Hearne, 1795: 35, 78, 80-84, 96, 119, 195-197, 297, 316-319, 321-325; Franklin, 1823: 243-244; Lyon, 1824: 119, 123, 130, 144, 198, 229, 238, 241, 282, 311-317, 324, 327, 336; Parry, 1824: 289, 380, 403, 494-497, 505, 508, 512, 537; Richardson, “1825”: 330, 331; Franklin and Richardson, 1828: 200, 275; Richardson, 1829: 242-244, 245-249; John Ross, 1835a: 243-244, 252, 352, 512, 537; J. C. Ross, in John Ross, 1835b: xvii; Richardson, in Back, 1836: 499; Simpson, 1843: 76, 208, 312, 347, 355; J. McLean, 1932 (1849): 195, 359; Richardson, 1852: 290; J. Anderson, 1856: 24, and 1857: 321; Armstrong, 1857: 149, 154, 155, 166, 194; M’Clintock, 1860?: 212; Richardson, 1861: 274; B. R. Ross, 1861: 439-440; Kennicott, in Anonymous, 1869: 170; Kumlien, 1879: 19, 23-25, 36-37, 54; Caton, 1881: 366-371; Gilder, 1881: 11, 23, 25, 26, 28, 43, 50, 59, 61, 64, 67, 71, 137-146, 154, 245-255; Nourse, 1884: 220, 232; Schwatka, 1885: 59-86; Boas, 1888: 419, 429, 461-462, 501-503, 508-509, 522, 555-560; Bompas, 1888: 61, 100; Collinson, 1889: 277; MacFarlane, 1890: 32-34, 38; Pike, 1917 (1892): 51-56, 59-60, 82, 209; J. B. Tyrrell, 1892: 128-130; Dowling, 1893: 107; J. B. Tyrrell, 1894: 445, 1895: 440-444, and 1897: 122, 126-127, 131-132, 151, 166-167; Russell, 1895: 49-51, and 1898: 91, 134, 168-172, 176, 178, 187-189, 227-229; Whitney, 1896: 161, 175, 176, 213, 237, 240, 242, 262; J. W. Tyrrell, 1908 (1898): 80-81, 123-141, 241; Jones, 1899: 342, 429; Hanbury, 1900: 64, 65; J. M. Bell, 1901a: 16, and 1901b: 252, 255, 258; Boas, 1901: 52, 54, 81, 102, 107, and 1907: 465, 493, 501; W. J. McLean, 1901: 5; Elliot, 1902: 276-279; J. W. Tyrrell, 1924 (1902): 28, 37; Hanbury, 1904: 41, 43, 67, 70, 72, 75, 82, 114-115, 120, 121, 123, 137, 143; MacFarlane, 1905: 680-683; Amundsen, 1908, 1: 120, 201, 237, 326-329, and 2: 110; Preble, 1908: 137; Seton, 1911: 259-262; Cameron, 1912: 127, 309; Wheeler, 1912: 199-200; R. M. Anderson, 1913a: 5, 6, 8, and 1913b: 502-505; Stefánsson, 1913a: 105, and 1913b: 203, 215, 221, 281, 337-338, and 1914: 48, 56-59, 97, 137, 139-141, 147-148, 150, 296, 353; Hornaday, 1914, 2: 97, 100; Wheeler, 1914: 52, 56, 58; Nelson, 1916: 460-461; Thompson, 1916: 19, 99; J. B. Tyrrell, in Thompson, 1916: 16; Buchanan, 1920: 113-151; R. M. Anderson, in Stefánsson, 1921: 743, 750; Hewitt, 1921: 58, 59, 64-66; Stefánsson, 1921: 401-402; Jenness, 1922: 47, 48, 61, 78-81, 97, 100-103, 124, 127-142, 148-151, 182-189, 244, 248, 249; Blanchet, 1925: 34, 1926a: 98, and 1926b: 47; Preble, 1926: 121; Craig, 1927: 22; Henderson, 1927: 40; Rasmussen, 1927: 5, 23, 59-60, 65, 67, 68, 73-76, 103-106, 145, 166-167, 245, 246; Anthony, 1928: 532; Kindle, 1928: 72-73; Birket-Smith, 1929 (1): 9, 47, 52-53, 56, 57, 86, 89, 90, 94, 96, 98, 101, 102, 104, 106-112, 133-144, 171, 186, 191, 196, 199-223, 232, 239-251, 262, 263, 268-271; Seton, 1929, 3: 111-122, 133-134; Blanchet, 1930: 50-51, 53; Critchell-Bullock, 1930: 193, and 1931: 32-33; Kitto, 1930: 87-88, 90; Mallet, 1930: 13, 32, 85, 87, 89, 90, 92, 95, 102, 116, 131-140; Jacobi, 1931: 156, 157, 159; Harper, 1932: 30, 31; Jenness, 1932: 47, 48, 51, 58, 59, 75, 406-408, 411, 412, 414, 415; Munn, 1932: 191-192, 210, 214, 255, 271, 278; Sutton and Hamilton, 1932: 80-83, 86-87; Weyer, 1932: 38, 39; Birket-Smith, 1933: 100; Ingstad, 1933: 118, 122, 135, 139, 162-163, 167, 186-187, 247, 253-254, 257-259; R. M. Anderson, 1934a: 81, and 1937: 103; Godsell, 1934: 273-276, and 1937: 288; Hornby, 1934: 105; Birket-Smith, 1936: 90, 91, 110, 111, 115-116; Hamilton, 1939: 246, 352, 359; Clarke, 1940: 5-9, 84, 110, 112; G. M. Allen, 1942: 297; Manning, 1942: 29, 1943a: 47, 50, and 1943b: 103; Downes, 1943: 215, 227-228, 261-262; Soper, 1944: 248-250; Wright, 1944: 185, 187, 188, 193; Rand, 1948b: 149; Yule, 1948: 288; Banfield, 1949: 477, 478, 481, and 1951a: 1, 11, 14-15, 42-50; Harper, 1949: 226, 230, 231; Hoffman, 1949: 12; Polunin, 1949: 230; Scott, 1951: 127; Anonymous, 1952: 264.
References on relations to civilized man.—Kennicott, in Anonymous, 1869: 166; Schwatka, 1885: 59-86; A. J. Stone, 1900: 57; Grant, 1903: 186; Cameron, 1912: 309; R. M. Anderson, 1913a: 5, 6; 1913b: 504, and 1938: 400; Stefánsson, 1913b: 27; Hornaday, 1914, 2: 100; Wheeler, 1914: 56; Hewitt, 1921: 11-12, 59; Critchell-Bullock, 1931: 33; Godsell, 1937: 288; G. M. Allen, 1942: 298-299; Manning, 1942: 28; [U.S.] War Department, 1944: 77; Harper, 1949: 239; Banfield, 1951a: 1, 14-15.
Relations to Black Bears
It is hardly to be expected that Black Bears (Ursus americanus subsp.) commit any depredations on adult, able-bodied Caribou unless under very exceptional circumstances. Since they do not normally venture to an appreciable distance into the Barren Grounds, their contacts with Caribou are mainly in the forested zone. For an untold period in the past there has been a very interesting tripartite relationship between Bears, Caribou, and Caribou-eater Chipewyans about the south end of Nueltin Lake. For information concerning it I am indebted to Charles Schweder. The Indians of that area have been in the habit of killing large numbers of Caribou, especially on the spring and fall migrations, and leaving many of the bodies, or parts of the bodies, out in the “bush.” The Bears have become accustomed to taking advantage of the situation, especially, perhaps, in the matter of fattening up for hibernation. This probably resulted in a certain concentration of the animals thereabouts. But of late years the local native population has seriously declined by reason of fatal illness and removal to other parts. Consequently, as Charles Schweder expressed it, there are no longer enough people there to feed the Bears! Three of the Chipewyans reported in late October, 1947, that they had lost a good many of their Caribou to the Bears during that season.
This recent change in the food situation about the south end of Nueltin Lake has apparently resulted in, or at least coincided with, an influx of Bears in the Windy River area, where they were unknown until 1944. During the next four years seven Bears were killed locally. The animals are said to have consumed about 70 Caribou bodies in the fall of 1944, and about 40 in the fall of 1947 within a few miles of the Windy River post; thus they became a somewhat serious factor in the human economy of the area. The Caribou is evidently the chief loser in this curious relationship, but even the Bear, which may be regarded as the chief beneficiary, suffers from man’s retaliatory efforts.
Relations to foxes
The demand for Arctic Fox furs on the part of the fashionable women of the world sends the trapper on his winter rounds over the bleak and bitter Barren Grounds, where he depends upon his autumn kill of Caribou for sustenance for himself and his dogs as well as for fox bait. It is thus quite obvious where a large share of the responsibility for the dwindling numbers of the Caribou lies.
Both Arctic and Red Foxes (Alopex lagopus innuitus and Vulpes fulva subsp.) are among the scavengers that help to consume caribou bodies that are left unguarded in the wilds. According to Charles Schweder, foxes of both species seem to follow the Wolves, presumably in the hope of securing the leavings of their kills.
Charles also gave me an account of a remarkable sort of play between a Red Fox and a small buck Caribou. He had witnessed it in September, 1943, about 18 miles north of Windy River, from a distance of half a mile. The Fox would approach the Caribou closely; the latter would then walk up to the Fox, which would retreat, not allowing the Caribou to come close enough to touch it. Neither animal was afraid of the other. They kept up this performance for about 5 minutes. The Fox then went among some bushes, where the Caribou tried to follow it. The larger animal was still there, feeding, when Charles passed on out of sight. He regarded the whole performance as a matter of playfulness. His recital put me in mind at once of a slightly similar play between a Newfoundland Caribou and a Red Fox, as recorded by Millais (1907: 302-303). Stefánsson (1921: 623-624) describes a game of tag between an Arctic Fox and several yearlings of Rangifer pearyi on Melville Island.
References.—Blanchet, 1925: 34; Birket-Smith, 1929(1): 101; Critchell-Bullock, 1930: 143; Munn, 1932: 278; Ingstad, 1933: 90, 157-159; Freuchen, 1935: 128; Banfield, 1951a: 36.
Relations to Wolves
Aside from man, the principal predatory enemy of the Barren Ground Caribou is undoubtedly the Wolf. A comparison of a distributional map of Caribou by Banfield (1949: 479, fig. 1) with a distributional map of Wolves by Goldman (1944: 414, fig. 14) indicates that the latter species is a considerably more plastic animal. No less than six subspecies of Wolves seem to occur in parts of the currently recognized range of a single subspecies of Caribou (Rangifer arcticus arcticus), as follows: Canis lupus arctos, Prince of Wales and Somerset islands; Canis lupus manningi, Baffin Island; Canis lupus bernardi, Victoria Island; Canis lupus hudsonicus, Keewatin, eastern Mackenzie, northern Manitoba, and northeastern Saskatchewan; Canis lupus mackenzii, northern Mackenzie; Canis lupus occidentalis, southern Mackenzie and northern Alberta and Saskatchewan.
The Keewatin Tundra Wolf (C. l. hudsonicus) is presumably the only one that concerns us here. However, its extension into the forested zone of northern Manitoba and northeastern Saskatchewan, as indicated on Goldman’s map, is still problematical. Goldman’s text (1944: 428-429) is quite indefinite on this point. There are such distinct differences between the general fauna of the Arctic Zone and that of the Hudsonian Zone that the Wolf of the latter zone may well prove to be differentiable from hudsonicus, whose type locality is at Schultz Lake in west central Keewatin. It is an interesting question whether any Wolves of the Barren Grounds follow the Caribou southward into the timbered country in the fall; likewise, whether any individual Wolves of the latter region accompany the Caribou on their spring migration out into the Barrens. Little light on the subject seems available at present. There is no doubt, however, that a good many Wolves remain during the winter on parts of the Barren Grounds that have been deserted by the Caribou at that season. Furthermore, at the time of the spring migration, mature Wolves of the forest zone would be restricted to their home territory by the necessity of caring for their young ones.
A Wolf is by no means able to capture a Caribou at will. During the season of open water the latter may effect a ready escape by plunging into the nearest river or lake and crossing to the other side. There is reason to believe that islands provide a good sanctuary during the summer (Seton, 1929, 3: 108-109; Gavin, 1945: 228). In the winter the Caribou must depend primarily on its fleetness of foot. Even the fawns are reputed to be able to outdistance Wolves in a chase that is not too prolonged. An adult, if brought to bay after a long chase, is probably able to stand off a single Wolf indefinitely. Its powerful hoofs are its principal means of defense. Even if the antlers are brought into play, they are effective only during the limited period when they are fullgrown, hard, and free of velvet. When two or more Wolves manage to bring a Caribou to bay, the outcome is probably almost invariably in their favor. Charles Schweder has never known a Caribou to kill one of these predators in defending itself. In several cases reported by Fred Schweder, Jr., the last stand was made on the ice of lakes. The Caribou itself may choose such a place, as if aware that it may be more sure-footed on the ice than its enemy.
After listening to wolf tales by residents of the frontier settlements rather than by real men of the “bush,” one might almost expect to see a couple of these bloodthirsty animals harrying the rear of every band of Caribou and keeping up a relentless pursuit. However, during a sojourn of six months on one of the best Caribou ranges in Keewatin, where trapping has very little effect on Wolves, I saw just one of these animals alive, heard the howling on several occasions, and noted a single Caribou that had probably been killed by them. It is far from a common experience for the resident trappers to witness actual pursuit by Wolves or even to find their kills. The following instances, related by Fred Schweder, Jr., comprised his only direct observations on Wolves in pursuit of Caribou up to and including 1947, when he was eighteen years old.
During the northward migration in May, 1945, a silent black Wolf pursued a band of 100 Caribou over the ice of Windy Bay. At one time it came within 100 feet, but thereafter they forged ahead. After half a mile the band split up, and the Wolf desisted. In October, 1946, Fred noticed a Caribou fighting off two Wolves on the ice of Nueltin Lake near its outlet. It used both horns and hoofs against its attackers. While one Wolf was in front, the other would try to get in the rear of the Caribou and hamstring it. This went on for two hours until darkness hid the scene. The next morning the Caribou was dead and half eaten. On October 16, 1947, a white Wolf was seen in pursuit of four fast-moving Caribou near Simons’ Lake. It was about half a mile in their rear, and presently halted, probably by reason of catching sight of Fred.
November 7, 1947, was a blizzardy day; the air was full of drifting snow. Under these conditions a gray Wolf chased a buck and a doe right into the dooryard of one of Fred’s trapping camps 10 miles north of Windy River. It was only about 30 feet behind them. When the buck broke through the ice of a little creek, the Wolf went right past it in pursuit of the doe. The latter nearly ran into Fred’s toboggan, and he shot it at a distance of 20 feet. The Wolf came within 40 feet, but by the time it was recognized as not just another Caribou, it was 100 feet away. Fred then shot but merely wounded it, the sight being off his rifle. Meanwhile the buck escaped, but 3 miles away Fred met with it again and secured it. He recognized it as the same animal because at both encounters it was limping from a previous wound and was hornless as well.
In late November Fred found two fullgrown bucks and a doe on the ice of Windy Lake, where they had been killed by Wolves. The bucks were antlered and had probably met their end several weeks previously. Yet their flesh was so musky and unpalatable, in consequence of the rutting season, that it had not been devoured. A long trail of blood and hair led to the spot where the doe had fallen, apparently a couple of weeks previously; it was still only half eaten.
In Fred’s opinion, Caribou are apprehensive of sandy eskers as the haunt of Wolves, and do not linger there.
On October 15 Charles Schweder pointed out the body of a Caribou in a little pond in the delta area at the head of Simons’ Lake. He considered it killed by Wolves some weeks previously; its antlers were in the velvet, and it had been eaten only about the head and hind quarters as it lay in the water.
Joe Chambers, a trapper of Goose Creek (south of Churchill), stated that Wolves select the fattest Caribou, and that during the winter of 1946-47 they had been devouring only such choice parts as the tongue and the unborn young.
Caribou bodies are the primary bait for Wolves and Foxes on the Barren Grounds. Two traps are commonly placed at each carcass.
Up to a couple of centuries ago, when the baneful effect of civilized man began to be felt, the Caribou throve and multiplied to a point where they probably strained the grazing capacity of the Barren Grounds. Neither primitive man nor the Wolf had any serious effect on the size or condition of the herds. The Caribou were numbered by millions, and they doubtless owed their vigor and their success as a species in no small measure to their friendly enemy, the Wolf. Through long ages the latter had tended to eliminate the weaklings, the sickly, and the less alert individuals, leaving the fitter animals to propagate their kind. Here was a fine example of natural selection operating to the advantage of the Caribou. Thus the Wolf may be safely considered a benefactor of the species as a whole—a regulator and protector of its vitality.
There are only two regions of the world where Caribou (or Reindeer) have not long shared their territory with the Wolf—Spitsbergen and the Queen Charlotte Islands. And what sort of situation do we find there? Instead of thriving in the absence of such a natural predator, the animals of both regions are the runts of the whole Caribou-Reindeer tribe, and those of the Queen Charlottes have become virtually or wholly extinct (cf. Banfield, 1949: 481-482). Furthermore, the Newfoundland Caribou suffered a very serious decline after the Newfoundland Wolf became extinct at about the beginning of the present century. The lesson is obvious: it is folly for man to imagine that he can benefit the Caribou by eliminating the Wolves.
It is virtually axiomatic that no predatory species (other than modern man) exterminates its own food supply. Long ago nature must have established a fairly definite ratio between the populations of the Wolf and the Caribou. Although a certain fluctuation of that ratio could be expected from time to time, each fluctuation would be followed by a return to more or less normal conditions. The trend of evolution has doubtless been toward perfecting the Wolf in its ability to capture the Caribou, but at the same time toward perfecting the Caribou in its ability to escape the Wolf. Unequal progress of this sort on the part of the two species would presumably have been rather disastrous to the one or the other. But it is nature’s way to have preserved a proper balance between the abilities of the two species, and thus between their populations. This balance (a rather delicate one) has probably been upset to some extent by the advent of civilized man with his devices to the Barren Grounds.
The Caribou “exemplify the survival of the fittest; none but the perfect are allowed to live and breed, hence their perfection. We believe that the wolf is in no small degree responsible for this high standard, and that were he killed off the species as a whole would suffer.” (Critchell-Bullock, 1930: 161.)
“It is doubtful if the efforts of white or native hunters are of any importance whatever in the control of wolves in the caribou country, or could, under present circumstances ever be of any importance.” (Clarke, 1940: 109).
References.—Franklin, 1823: 242, 327, 344, 486, 487; John Ross, 1835a: 402, 530, 534, 564; Back, 1836: 128-129; Simpson, 1843: 232; Armstrong, 1857: 395, 480-481, 488, 525; Osborn, 1865: 227-228, 231, 232; Kumlien, 1879: 53, 54; Gilder, 1881: 61; Bompas, 1888: 60; Collinson, 1889: 244; Pike, 1917 (1892): 56-58; Whitney, 1896: 239; Jones, 1899: 374-375; Preble, 1902: 41, and 1908: 214; Hanbury, 1904: 89; MacFarlane, 1905: 692-693; Amundsen, 1908, 1: 102; Seton, 1911: 225-226; R. M. Anderson, 1913b: 516; Stefánsson, 1913a: 93, and 1921: 248-249, 475-476; Blanchet, 1925: 34; Mallet, 1926: 79; Birket-Smith, 1929 (1): 51; Seton, 1929, 1: 344-346, and 3: 108-109; Blanchet, 1930: 54-55; Critchell-Bullock, 1930: 159-162; Hoare, 1930: 22; Kitto, 1930: 89; Jacobi, 1931: 240-241; Harper, 1932: 31; Sutton and Hamilton, 1932: 33, 35, 36, 81, 82, 84, 85; Ingstad, 1933: 157-159, 165-166, 207, 302-304, 306-307; Hornby, 1934: 106, 108; Freuchen, 1935: 93, 120-122; Murie, 1939: 245; Clarke, 1940: 107-109; Manning, 1942: 29, and 1943a: 55; Downes, 1943: 262; Young, 1944: 236-238, 243; Yule, 1948: 288; Harper, 1949: 230-231, 239; Banfield, 1951a: 37-41; Anonymous, 1952: 263-265.
Relations to birds of prey
These relations are not so much of the living Caribou as of their bodies after death. The principal avian scavengers in the Windy River area seem to be the Rough-legged Hawk (Buteo lagopus sancti-johannis), the Herring Gull (Larus argentatus smithsonianus), the Canada Jay (Perisoreus canadensis canadensis), and the Raven (Corvus corax principalis). These birds are evidently attracted to the vicinity of camps and trap-lines by reason of the numbers of caribou bodies lying about. On their first arrival in late May or early June, before the lakes have opened up and while food in general is scarce, Herring Gulls seem particularly prone to assemble where Caribou have been recently killed. For example, up to June 3 only a handful of these birds had been seen about Windy River. On that day several Caribou were killed, and on June 4 about 100 Herring Gulls had gathered at the scene. Their scavenger activities make it especially necessary to protect the caribou bodies in the way described in the section on Relations to man. In a few days one of the bodies (apparently not so protected) had been almost entirely consumed. The Herring Gulls operate locally only from May to September, being absent during the rest of the year. A few Ring-billed Gulls (Larus delawarensis) appeared meanwhile and attacked a caribou carcass.
The Rough-legged Hawk is far less numerous than the Herring Gull and so is a much less serious scavenger. Now and then, however, it may be noted feeding on a caribou carcass. Even the Long-tailed Jaeger (Stercorarius longicaudus) is reported in such a role. The Canada Jay and the Raven are permanent residents and are undoubtedly helped through the inhospitable winter by man-killed Caribou. On the other hand, a good many Ravens fall victims to the fox traps placed about the bodies. Charles Schweder has frequently seen Ravens following Wolves, as if in expectation of a kill. Buchanan remarks (1920: 248) concerning the Reindeer Lake region, that the Ravens “appear to remain in the vicinity of the Caribou herds all th[r]ough winter.” In the Windy River area the Canada Jay became noticeably more numerous in August, after the Caribou had returned from the north. The Ravens and the Rough-legs exhibited a similar increase in September and October.
The depredations of these carnivorous birds result to the detriment of the living Caribou in that they virtually force the hunters and trappers to kill a larger number of the animals than would otherwise be necessary.
References.—Hanbury, 1904: 135; Stefánsson, 1913a: 93; Seton, 1929, 3: 108; Ingstad, 1933: 157-159; Downes, 1943: 228; Banfield, 1951a: 36, 42; Harper, 1953: 28, 60, 62-64, 72, 74, 76.
Relations to miscellaneous animals
The Schweder boys spoke of Arctic Hares (Lepus arcticus andersoni) being in the habit of eating the stomach contents of Caribou after the animals have been dressed in the field. This represents merely harmless utilization of a normally waste product, although it serves some of the natives as nerrooks or “Eskimo salad” (cf. Richardson, 1829: 245). Wolverines, Mink, Weasels, and Lemmings help to consume unprotected caribou bodies. (In the Old World the Wolverine is regarded as a serious enemy of live Reindeer [Jacobi, 1931: 243; Harper, 1945: 473].)
References.—Pike, 1917 (1892): 56-58; Seton, 1911: 252, 1929, 2: 413, 424, 443, and 1929, 3: 108; Harper, 1932: 23; Ingstad, 1933: 157-159; Freuchen, 1935: 93, 99; Hoffman, 1949: 12; Banfield, 1951a: 36, 41; Harper, 1953: 40, 41.
Relations to flies
Flies of various kinds perhaps cause more wide-spread, year-round misery to the Caribou than all other pests and enemies combined. It is safe to say that not a single individual in the whole population escapes their attacks, and some even succumb to mosquitoes (Gavin, 1945: 228). The various biting and parasitic flies have already been discussed to some extent in the section on Influence of insects on distribution. Harassment by these pests is believed to be the leading cause of the haste with which the Caribou are frequently seen passing over the Barrens in summer. Downes (1943: 204) has commented on the habit of Chipewyan hunters in the Nueltin Lake region of examining the legs of Caribou for swellings caused by mosquito bites. In a buck secured on August 17 the legs exhibited numerous little bumps of this sort; furthermore, black flies covered the buck’s body, while scarcely troubling those of us who were preparing the specimen. Fortunately the suffering from mosquitoes and black flies on the Barrens is largely limited to the months of July and August.
Even at this season the Caribou are granted occasional relief from the blood-sucking flies. The characteristic strong winds of that region help greatly in keeping the insects in abeyance. Furthermore, both mosquitoes and black flies become more or less inactive whenever the temperature drops to the neighborhood of 45° (cf. Weber, 1950: 196), and this happens fairly frequently even in mid-summer. Finally, the black flies retire during the hours of darkness; and short as these hours are, the relief they bring is very noteworthy. These conditions offer something of a contrast to those surrounding the Woodland Caribou. It is difficult to see how that animal can secure a moment’s respite from mosquito attacks, by day or night, through most of the summer. In its forested habitat there is not sufficient lowering of the temperature nor sufficient penetration of strong winds. Hard as the life of the Barren Ground Caribou may be, it seems to have a few advantages not available to the Woodland Caribou; and possibly it is these that have enabled it to attain a vastly greater population than the other species.
Of 52 mosquito specimens brought back from the Windy River area, 39 were Aedes nearcticus Dyar, 2 were probably Aedes fitchii (F. and Y.), and the remaining 11 were of the same genus but not in condition for specific determination (cf. Dyar, 1919; Weber, 1950: 196). Ae. nearcticus is holarctic in distribution; in North America it occurs chiefly on the Barren Grounds, but is known from as far south as Montana. Ae. fitchii ranges through the northern United States and Canada, north to the limit of trees. Of 26 black flies, all were Simulium venustum Say, which occurs in northern Europe, Alaska, and Labrador, south to the Adirondacks, Illinois, Iowa, Georgia, and Alabama. (Names and ranges supplied by Dr. Alan Stone, of the United States Bureau of Entomology and Plant Quarantine.) These mosquitoes and black flies were presumably the species attacking the Caribou in the Nueltin Lake region.
The effects of the two parasitic flies are felt nearly throughout the year. The adult warble fly (Oedemagena tarandi) is seen in the Windy River area in August, when the Caribou are on their southward march. On August 22 Fred Schweder, Jr., secured three of them on freshly killed Caribou and another that alighted on himself—all on an island in Windy Bay. His name for them is “deer fly.” He reported seeing about 50 of them on this day (more than ever before), although he sighted only 10 Caribou. As he remarked, these fuzzy flies look much like bumblebees. Three days later, along Little River, something buzzed past me while a band of Caribou were near. It was probably this species, although it suggested a hummingbird almost as much as a bumblebee. On several subsequent August days, while numbers of Caribou were passing very close to me, I detected no more of the warble flies. In general, they might well have escaped my notice owing to my preoccupation with photography; but on August 30, when I looked for them on one of the nearest animals, I saw none. Evidently they are not sufficiently numerous (like horse-flies on cattle) to be constantly in attendance on each Caribou. In fact, a comparative scarcity (or at least difficulty of capture) may be surmised from the fact that the Canadian Arctic Expedition 1913-18 brought back only three adult females—one from Teller, Alaska, and two from Bernard Harbour, Dolphin and Union Strait (Malloch, 1919: 55). Weber (1950) collected no Oestridae in Arctic Alaska.
Apparently there has been scarcely any published study of the egg-laying or other habits of the adult Oedemagena in relation to Rangifer arcticus arcticus, other than a few recent notes by Banfield (1951a: 31-32, fig. 17); but its behavior in relation to the Lapland Reindeer seems to be fairly well known, and it is summarized by Jacobi (1931: 245-246). In the case of the Reindeer, the fly’s eggs are laid (during the summer) generally on the legs, belly, and tail region of the victim; the larvae, on hatching, bore through the skin, travel widely through the body, and finally (in the autumn) reach the place for further development—beneath the skin of the back on both sides of the vertebral column. Each one makes a breathing-hole through the skin, and uses this as an exit when leaving the host in the following June. Only the younger animals, from one to about four or five years old, are heavily infested; those still older are spared, possibly having learned to guard themselves better against the fly. Curiously enough, the fawns are said to escape this parasitism entirely.
My own observations on the larvae were restricted to a few Caribou specimens in June and in the autumn. As with the Reindeer, the Caribou fawns in their first autumn showed no visible infestation, as I noted in looking over some fresh hides on September 10, and as was noted again in a fawn of September 26. Fred Schweder, Jr., made the remark that larvae would be evident in the fawns by the following spring; this may indicate that the larvae have not, in the autumn, completed their journey to their final position on the Caribou’s back. I learned of no immunity on the part of old adults.
Fullgrown larvae still remained in bucks secured on June 3 (fig. 17) and 18. According to Charles Schweder, they drop out in June. In the buck of June 3 there were perhaps several dozen warbles, each surrounded by a mass of repulsive tissue; in another buck of June 18, there were apparently more than 75. “It may be assumed,” says Johansen (1921: 24), “that the pupae lie on the ground for about a month before the flies appear.” He found (1921: 29) the adult flies abroad at Dolphin and Union Strait by July 14.
In a buck of August 17 the new warbles (or perhaps merely warble scars from the previous June—cf. Banfield, 1951a: 32) on the inside of the skin were not very numerous. Some were medium-sized, but most were so small that it was not deemed necessary to scrape them off; they had comparatively little fatty tissue about them and were merely allowed to dry up. The number of warbles (or warble scars) found in autumn specimens varied considerably, up to a maximum of roughly 200. They were situated mostly along the mid-dorsum, and more on the lower back or rump than farther forward. The number appeared to be approximately 130 in the skin of an adult doe that was nailed to the log wall of a cabin for drying on September 15 (fig. 18). A doe of September 21 seemed to have less than the usual number of warbles.
The nostril fly (Cephenemyia) is another serious dipterous parasite of the Caribou. The life history of the European C. nasalis (L.) (or C. trompe [L.]) and its effect on Reindeer are discussed by Bergman (1917), Natvig (1918), and Jacobi (1931: 245) as follows.
This fly attacks the host from June to September, depositing its viviparous larvae in the nostrils. The Reindeer attempts to fend off the fly, striking at it with its hoofs and keeping its nostrils closed as far as possible. Once deposited, the lively larvae crawl into the inner nasal passages and as far as the larynx, where they fasten themselves and live on the mucus. A Reindeer may harbor as many as 130 of these parasites. They range from 6 to 26 mm. in length. Their particular growth begins at the end of March, and they are ready for pupation up to May. The host assists their exit by continual sneezing and snuffling. In the last stages they are a great affliction for the host, and they sometimes cause its death. Pupation takes place in or on the ground, under some sort of cover, and it lasts for 15-19 days. The flies have been found emerging from July 12 to 31.
The corresponding parasite of the Barren Ground Caribou is a similar or perhaps identical species, with a parallel life history. Its chief activity as an adult doubtless occurs in July and August. A number of the mature larvae were found in the throat of the buck of June 3; two of them that were preserved measure approximately 7 mm. in diameter and 27 and 30 mm. in length. A large mass of such sizable parasites in the throat might easily become a serious obstacle to comfortable living or even to survival on the part of the host. Presumably the larvae drop to the ground at about the same period as those of Oedemagena. Fred Schweder, Jr., remarked concerning the buck of August 17 that these larvae are never found at that season, and Charles Schweder made the same remark concerning a doe specimen of September 21. It would appear either that they remain so small as to escape detection at this time or that they do not reach the throat on their short journey from the nostrils until some later period of the year. Johansen (1921: 24) records larvae only 2-3 mm. long in the nasal passage at the end of May.
Since the bulk of the Caribou population has passed well to the northward of the Nueltin Lake region by the time the larvae of Oedemagena and Cephenemyia drop out of the bodies of their hosts to pupate briefly on or in the ground (say in the latter part of June), one is tempted to speculate on the possibility that the adult flies found here in August may have followed their prospective victims for many miles in their southward migration. However, Porsild remarks (1943: 386) that they “apparently do not travel very far.”
Certain kinds of behavior exhibited by the Caribou in attempting to fend off the parasitic flies are discussed in the section on Shaking off moisture and insects.
The adults of Oedemagena tarandi (L.) were determined by Mr. C. W. Sabrosky, of the Bureau of Entomology and Plant Quarantine; and the larvae of Oedemagena and Cephenemyia by Dr. W. W. Wirth, of the same bureau. The larvae of the latter genus are regarded as probably C. trompe (L.); they were new to the collection of the United States National Museum.
References.—Hearne, 1795: 197; Franklin, 1823: 241; Richardson, “1825”: 328-330, and 1829: 242; Godman, 1831, 2: 284; Murray, 1858: 210; B. R. Ross, 1861: 438; Pike, 1917 (1892): 58-59; J. B. Tyrrell, 1892: 128, and 1894: 442; Whitney, 1896: 239; Russell, 1898: 228-229; Jones, 1899: 411; Hanbury, 1900: 67, and 1904: 32, 137, 194; Preble, 1902: 41; R. M. Anderson, 1913b: 504; Stefánsson, 1913b: 204, 212-213, 333; Douglas, 1914: 191-192; Malloch, 1919: 55-56; Hewitt, 1921: 67; Johansen, 1921: 22-24, 29, 35, 37; Stefánsson, 1921: 247; Blanchet, 1925: 32, and 1926b: 47; Birket-Smith, 1929 (1): 56, 133; Seton, 1929, 3: 109-111; Critchell-Bullock, 1930: 193; Hoare, 1930: 33, 37-38; Kitto, 1930: 89; Jacobi, 1931: 244-245; Munn, 1932: 58; Sutton and Hamilton, 1932: 84-86; Birket-Smith, 1933: 90, 92; Ingstad, 1933: 48, 135; Hornby, 1934: 105; Soper, 1936: 429; Henriksen, 1937: 25, 26; Hamilton, 1939: 247, 301; Murie, 1939: 245; Clarke, 1940: 70, 95; Downes, 1943: 226, 255; Manning, 1943a: 53; Porsild, 1943: 386; Gavin, 1945: 228; Harper, 1949: 228; Banfield, 1951a: 31-33; Barnett, 1954: 104.
Ectoparasites
It was in vain that I searched a number of fresh specimens for lice, mites, fleas, or ticks. The Schweder boys spoke of never having noticed any such parasites. Seton (1929) mentions none, and Jacobi (1931: 243) records only a louse (Linognathus tarandi) from the Reindeer. “Lice are not known from caribou according to Ferris (in conversation)” (Weber, 1950: 154).
Relations to Reindeer
Recent discussions of the possibility or advisability of introducing domesticated Reindeer to replace, or to augment the diminishing supply of, native American Caribou in various new localities prompt a brief review of the subject.
It may be remarked at the outset that acclimatization attempts in the Old World have generally been abortive. Wild Reindeer introduced from Finmark into Iceland in the eighteenth century flourished for a time, but by 1917 they were almost exterminated. A number of different introductions into Great Britain, Denmark, Germany, Austria, Switzerland, and Italy came to naught. On the other hand, the introduction of Lapland Reindeer on the subantarctic island of South Georgia in 1908 seems to have turned out successfully. (Jacobi, 1931: 158-165; Harper, 1945: 473-474.) A saving feature in each of the above-mentioned cases was the absence of any native Reindeer whose racial purity might have been destroyed by the newcomers.
Decrease of local American stocks of Caribou, and consequent suffering of native populations who had in past generations depended upon these animals for a major portion of their food supply, have led to introduction of foreign Reindeer in several regions of North America, from Newfoundland and Labrador in the east to Alaska in the west. The persons responsible were doubtless inspired by high humanitarian motives; but it is doubtful if they could have thoroughly considered or foreseen the serious biological consequences of their efforts.
In Alaska, importation of domesticated Siberian Reindeer began in 1892. By the 1930’s the herds had increased to an estimated total of 600,000. For various reasons, however, the industry has so far declined that by 1949 the total number of Alaskan Reindeer had become reduced to about 28,000 head. Disinclination of Eskimos for reindeer-herding and mixture of their stock with wild Caribou were important reasons for this decline. (Lantis, 1950.) From the biologist’s point of view, the most unfortunate result was the large-scale interbreeding with the native Grant’s Caribou (Rangifer arcticus granti) and the progressive extermination of that fine animal in a pure form by dilution with inferior alien blood. Among Alaskan Reindeer, “constant inbreeding has led to a noticeable reduction in the prolificness of the females, and degeneration is to be observed in many herds” (Hewitt, 1921: 323).
In 1908 Dr. Wilfred T. Grenfell brought 300 Lapland Reindeer to Newfoundland. After some years they were transferred to the north shore of the Gulf of St. Lawrence and finally to the island of Anticosti. (Hewitt, 1921: 324-328; Seton, 1929, 3: 92.) In 1911, 50 of these Reindeer were shipped from Newfoundland to the Slave River region. Most of them escaped (probably to contaminate the local stock of Caribou), and by 1916 the last survivor of this band in captivity had succumbed (Hewitt, 1921: 329-330).
“A large part of the reindeer in Alaska are south of the Arctic Circle on the comparatively mild shores of Bering Sea, where there are several months of open tidewater navigation; vegetation is more luxuriant [than in Arctic Canada] and conditions easier in general. There the reindeer were introduced into a country where the wild caribou had been virtually exterminated, and a large native population were anxious to take up a new mode of support. The percentage of profits has appeared unduly large in Alaska because statisticians have been unable to take into account the value of the services of a large body of devoted missionaries, government teachers, and other unselfish persons who put their best efforts into years of unpaid extra work to make the reindeer successful and beneficial to their charges.