Typical mule deer (C. macrotis)

To my mind the best deer we have in North America for sport is the beast whose head is here represented, C. macrotis, the mule deer of British Columbia and the naturalists, and the Black-tail of Colorado and elsewhere in the States. More than any other of his kin in this country, C. macrotis haunts the open uplands, the largest bucks being found oftener than not right up by the little snow patches, in and on the edge of the sheep land, or if not there, then in the small patches of starved and moss-grown forest at the top of the timber range. Thanks to his predilection for high places and the open, it is often possible to stalk C. macrotis in ‘old country’ fashion, instead of crawling about after him in choking timber as a man must after C. columbianus or almost any other American deer; but to get mule deer a man should rise early in order to see them moving up to their beds for the day.

The mule deer ruts about the middle of October, his horns being clean as a rule about a fortnight earlier, although I have seen a big buck very high up (10,000 ft.) in Colorado who had not begun to rub in the third week of September.

One of the writers in a recent book on American big game speaks of the whistling of this deer during the rutting season; but though I have spent many seasons amongst mule deer, in British Columbia and elsewhere, I have never yet heard them whistle, nor heard any mention of this habit from the natives or white hunters. However, I am not prepared to say that they do not whistle.

Abnormal head of mule deer

More than any other American deer with which I am acquainted, C. macrotis migrates with the seasons, passing in large numbers from his summer feeding grounds on the uplands to the green timber districts of the lower country. This migration seems to begin with the first heavy snows, but it is not an invariable rule, for I have seen big bucks in the Chilcotin country, nearly as high up as they could climb, at the beginning of December, with snow a foot deep and the thermometer 10° below zero. There is no deer in the country, I fancy, whose antlers are subject to such great variation as those of C. macrotis. The pair figured on p. 419 is typical, although distinctly above the average in size (25½-in. span); another pair (obtained by Mr. H. A. James in Colorado) had 41-in. span, but the abnormal head figured on p. 420 is that of a mule deer, and it has no fewer than 59 points in place of the ordinary 10 points. This stag was killed in British Columbia. I have also seen another pair, old and thick and covered with well-marked pearls, with no tines at all except at the top. The average weight of a male mule deer is about 200 lbs., though they sometimes run much larger, individuals having been killed weighing as much as 250 and 300 lbs.

Some idea of the number of these deer in British Columbia may be gathered from the fact that in one district I have had a chance of killing seventeen separate stags in an hour’s still hunt, whilst one settler in the Similkameen country fed his hogs on deer-meat through a whole winter.

(6) The White-Tail (C. virginianus)

Of the White-tail or Virginian deer I have very little to say. Every quality which a deer ought not to possess from a sporting point of view this exasperating little beast possesses in the most highly developed form. He lives very often in close proximity to men, and seems to have caught some of their cunning. His habitat is from the Atlantic to the Pacific, his haunts are in river bottoms, in choking, blinding brush, and his habits are beastly. No one need ever expect to stalk a white-tail. If you want to get one, you must crawl about in places where the big boughs swing back and lash you across the eyes, where the rampikes catch in your clothes or rise up under your feet and trip you more cleverly than a professional wrestler, where hidden logs break your shins, and every other device of inanimate Nature is found to obstruct and annoy you with what seems almost live personal malice. After a long course of such sport as this, after having become dumb because you have no more ‘swear words’ left to say, after having grown sick of hearing that abominable ‘thump, thump,’ which means that you have jumped another buck without seeing him, you may catch a glimpse of a waving white tail going over the logs, and if you are a good wing-shot with a rifle you may get the beast which wears it, but the betting is you won’t; or you may some day be astounded by the sight of a creature, apparently about as big as a good-sized jack rabbit, close to you, sneaking along under the brush, with its head craned forward, intent on escaping observation. If you move to fire, that sneaking beast will at once convert itself into the white-tailed timber jumper you have seen once or twice before.

The White-tail’s haunt

Let me be honest to the little beast. On nearly every occasion C. virginianus has got the best of me (I never hunted him with dogs or torches, or any other such abomination, and never mean to), but once on a red-letter day I caught a big buck of his kind dreaming on a hardwood hill. He was two hundred yards off, and though the bullet from my Express broke his foreleg, he jumped ‘at a stand’ a log by his side over which I could not look, though I stand nearly six feet in my boots, and gave me an hour’s excessively hard work before I killed him. I should think that about 150 lbs. would be the extreme weight of the largest bucks of this variety when cleaned, but there are stories of exceptionally large white-tail bucks in the Okanagau district of British Columbia, and the heads which come from that country are certainly very fine. Mr. Rowland Ward gives 27⅛ ins. as the length and 19 ins. as the span of the best head of this deer known to him.

(7) The Black-Tail (C. columbianus)

Although not quite so exasperating an animal as C. virginianus, this, the common deer of Vancouver Island, of the islands all along the Pacific coast from Victoria to Alaska, and of the Pacific slope generally, is desperately fond of thick timber and the deep jungles of noisy sal lal bush. In size C. columbianus is considerably smaller than the mule deer: a buck which would weigh 175 lbs. would be a big buck for Vancouver Island, and I am not aware that the deer of this island are smaller than those of the mainland. But if C. columbianus is small, he is at least abundant. A week from the date of writing this, a friend of mine and myself saw fourteen deer in two days’ still hunting within a drive of Victoria, and a grateful memory of my dinner reminds me that the venison of a yearling buck hung for one week is as good meat as any Esau ever brought home to Isaac. In 1892 a couple of half-breeds sold over eighty bucks in Victoria in two months, and in 1893 the same two (excellent shots and woodsmen) are reported to have killed twenty-two deer in one day. But to hunt deer or anything else upon Vancouver Island a man must be a born woodsman. Where the deer are thickest the woods fairly swallow a man up: every rolling hill is exactly like its neighbour, high peaks are scarce and landmarks very few.

Fortunately the island deer are not as wary as the white-tail, and will generally stand to gaze for a moment after having jumped from their lair amongst the sal lal. Early in the season the neighbourhood of swamps is the likeliest place to find deer, but during the rutting season (middle of October) the old bucks seem to keep to the higher grounds. Like other deer, the black-tail browses on all manner of shrubs and deciduous trees, and, unfortunately for farmers, has a decided weakness for growing crops.

The largest head I have seen was shot in 1892 near Cowitchan Lake, Vancouver Island. It measures along the beam from skull to extreme point 21 ins., and in span it is 19 ins. from tip to tip. A typical head appears in the illustration on the next page.

Mr. Rowland Ward records a head of this deer measuring 28⅝ ins. in length, with a span of 26 ins.

Guanaco

C. paludosus, C. columbianus

NOTE ON CENTRAL AND SOUTH AMERICAN BIG GAME

There is no lack of game either upon the Pampas or in the forests and along the river-beds of Central and South America, but as yet very few English sportsmen appear to have visited either the seas of grass or the luxuriant tropical forests of Patagonia, Paraguay and the Amazon. Admiral Kennedy, indeed, in his recent book, ‘Sporting Sketches in South America,’ is, I fancy, the first sportsman pure and simple who has visited these regions and described the sport to be found therein, and it is to be regretted that even he has not had the luck to secure specimens of all the principal beasts known in the country. Others have, of course, written of the Amazon and of the Pampas, but they have been naturalists, who cared more to secure a new mouse than mere trophies of the chase, however fine.

According to Admiral Kennedy, the game list of South America includes the guanaco, five kinds of deer, the ostrich or rhea, the jaguar, puma, tapir, wild cattle, and the wild pig. The last two species are, of course, representatives of domestic animals which have become wild, but, unless report belies them, there are wild cattle in the world (e.g. in the Galapagos Islands) which are as well worth hunting as the biggest buffaloes.

The jaguar, though a much larger beast than the puma (identical with the panther of the West), appears to be anything but a sporting beast, haunting river jungles and dense swamps, and being unable, according to Mr. Hudson (the ‘Naturalist on La Plata’) to hold his own even against his smaller cousin, the puma, who is described by the same authority as a ‘bold hunter,’ invariably preferring large to small game, which he kills as a tiger does, by dislocating the neck. The puma is, according to the same authority, a persistent persecutor of the jaguar. Both Mr. Hudson and Admiral Kennedy seem agreed that the puma is a very dangerous enemy to the guanaco, and a scourge to everything living upon the Pampas, except man and the gama (C. campestris), which protects itself as the skunk does, by its unpleasant smell. Mr. Hudson’s stories of the strange affection of the puma for man, although calculated to excite incredulity at first, coincide somewhat strangely with some of the Western stories of the panther (or puma) already narrated; but it must be borne in mind that the panther of the West does attack man in a few rare instances, according to the evidence of Mr. Perry.

Of all the beasts in South America Admiral Kennedy writes most enthusiastically of the guanaco, an animal nearly allied to the camel, weighing about 180 lbs., abundant from the Rio Colorado to the Straits of Magellan, and affording good sport to the stalker.

But a beast which carries no ‘head,’ which, according even to its admirers, ‘neighs like a horse’ when giving warning of danger, and ‘quacks like a duck’ when alarmed, seems to one who knows neither guanaco nor ciervo a very unattractive creature compared with the really fine deer, C. paludosus, which is found upon the Chaco of Paraguay and in the Argentine Republic. This deer somewhat resembles the red deer of Scotland, but grows to large dimensions. The horns figured are from some in the British Museum.

Besides the ciervo, South America boasts, according to Admiral Kennedy, of four other species of deer, the gama (C. campestris), a beast rather larger than the Scotch roe deer, common all over the Pampas, the ghazu vira or swamp deer, the ghazu colorado, and the venadillo. It is a pity that some enterprising sportsman does not devote a year or so to sport in South America. Jaguar and ciervo (to say nothing of the possibility of bagging deer almost unknown to his brother sportsmen in England) should be bait enough to tempt some one to more thoroughly investigate the sporting possibilities of South America.

For a fuller knowledge of South American game beasts, the reader is referred to Admiral Kennedy’s book, and to Mr. Hudson’s ‘Naturalist on La Plata.’

Musk ox

CHAPTER XIX
MUSK OX

By Warburton Pike

In a work dealing with the sport of the present day there is no necessity to inquire into the past history of the Musk Ox (Ovibos moschatus), or to speak of its extensive distribution during the early ages of the world. It is enough to pay a visit to the South Kensington Museum and wonder at the specimens of musk-ox heads dug out of the brick earth at Maidenhead and Ilford, differing but slightly from the bleached heads that may be picked up any day in the Barren Ground, and leave to scientists the task of describing the methods by which prehistoric man hunted the musk ox in what is now the pleasant valley of the Thames. I shall only attempt to describe the musk ox of to-day, and give a short account of the manner in which many of them are annually killed by the Northern Indians.

Whoever invented the word ovibos to classify the musk ox hit the nail squarely on the head, and this single word describes so exactly the strange mixture of sheep and bull that there is little left to be said upon the subject. I am indebted to Messrs. Rowland Ward & Co. for the following dimensions, which were taken from an adult bull, not a particularly large one, but a fair average specimen:—

ft.ins.
Length from nose to tip of tail60
Height from ground to shoulder42
Height from ground to top of rump310
Height from ground to belly110
Round body over hair59½
Depth of base of horn11¼
Length of hair under neck110
Length of hair under belly10

The long hair is never shed, but underneath it lies a thick fleece, which comes off every year and hangs in sheets from the rocks and small bushes against which the animals have been rubbing; and herein lies the distinction between a prime musk-ox robe and one killed out of season. The hair varies from brown to black in different parts of the body, but a saddle of light yellow shows up very conspicuously in the middle of the back. The cows are smaller than the bulls, and their horns never grow together into the solid boss that is to be seen in the case of a bull at the age of six years. In the young, the horns grow straight out from the head after the manner of a barn-yard calf, and do not show the downward curve till the second year.

The present range of the musk ox is limited to the North American continent and the outlying islands in the Arctic Ocean; it is perhaps best defined as lying to the north and east of a line drawn from the mouth of the Mackenzie river to Fort Churchill on Hudson Bay. Latitude 60° is generally accepted as its southern boundary, whilst the musk ox seems capable of existing very far north, as some are recorded to have been killed on Grinnell Land, latitude 82° 27´, within a mile of the winter quarters of H.M.S. ‘Alert,’ in July 1876, but I can find no record of any having been seen in Greenland.

Now, all these places are necessarily hard of access, and to make a successful musk-ox hunt means spending many months in northern latitudes, and undergoing the hardships and risks which Arctic explorers have found only too plentiful in crossing the Barren Ground. A mistaken theory exists among the officers of the Hudson Bay Company, that the musk ox come into the woods in the winter; but as a matter of fact the Indians have to push out far beyond the timber, hauling wood for fuel on their dog-sleighs, and as the robes are not prime till the snow has fallen and the cold is intense, it will be easily understood that the difficulty of getting out to the musk-ox country, finding a band, and hauling in the robes, is a thing to be well considered before starting. In addition to this, it must be remembered that if a party of men and dogs fail to find their game when they are far from timber, the chances are ten to one that nobody will reach the woods alive, as the caribou which roam the Barren Ground in vast herds during the summer seek the better shelter of the thick forest directly the winter sets in, and it is perfectly impossible to haul sufficient provisions for men and dogs in addition to fuel.

My personal experience of the musk ox is derived from two expeditions, one in the autumn and early winter and the other in summer, which I made with some half-breeds from Fort Resolution, a Hudson Bay trading post on the south shore of the Great Slave Lake. We left with canoes in the middle of August, and after travelling 150 miles towards the north-east end of the lake, portaged over a range of mountains on the north shore, and passing through a chain of small lakes reached the end of the dwarf timber by the middle of September. At this point, roughly three hundred miles from Resolution, we established a permanent camp, and, reduced to four in number, set out on foot into the Barren Ground, expecting to find musk ox at any time. We travelled hard towards the north, but only fell in with two solitary bulls, both of which were killed; the rutting season was just coming on, and the bulls were apparently seeking the cows. Winter was approaching, the small lakes were frozen up and the ground covered with snow; we were unprovided with dogs and all the outfit necessary for winter travel, and were forced to abandon the hunt, reaching our camp after three weeks’ absence early in October. On this journey we found the caribou plentiful, and had little trouble from short rations.

The next five weeks were passed at the edge of the woods, and it was well on in November when we started on another expedition; this time I went with a band of Yellow Knife Indians, as most of the half-breeds had deserted. Six sleighs hauled by twenty-four dogs carried a supply of firewood sufficient for three weeks with the strictest economy, and a little dried meat which was to last us till we reached the musk ox. Luckily, we had left a few meat caches on our first trip, or I think we could hardly have made a successful hunt, as men and dogs require more than the usual rations in the excessive cold which prevails in the Barren Ground during the early winter. After ten days’ fair travelling, with some delays from wind storms and the trouble of cutting the meat caches out of the ice in which we had stored them, just as we had come to the end of our provisions two bands of musk ox were discovered. By rough guessing, one band contained a hundred and the other sixty animals, bulls and cows of all ages. The usual methods of winter hunting were employed, and a wholesale slaughter began; the dogs let loose from the sleighs rounded up as many of the animals as they could hold, and, going close up, we killed them as easily as cattle at the shambles.

The musk ox took no notice of the men, and seemed to suppose that the dogs were their only danger; and it is to be presumed that by herding together in this manner they resist the attacks of wolves, which follow the caribou, and probably make an attempt on the musk ox when the more timid caribou are scarce. The animals we killed were all in good condition, and an examination of their stomachs showed that they had been feeding on the different mosses that grow in profusion in the Barren Ground. The snow had drifted away from the ridges, leaving the ground bare in many places, so that the moss was easily obtainable without pawing away the snow.

We killed over forty, as the Indians were, of course, anxious to get as many robes as they could haul, to trade for ammunition and blankets at the Fort, and after we had loaded the sleighs with skins and meat we made the best of our way back to the woods, which we reached on December 2, after various mishaps through getting lost and the dogs playing out in the soft snow. Shortly afterwards we fell in with the caribou again, and reached Fort Resolution a few days before Christmas.

The short Arctic summer was at its height when I saw the musk ox again, at the head waters of the Great Fish river, after a long and tedious journey with dog sleighs, and as we spent six weeks in the heart of the Barren Ground I had every opportunity to notice the habits of these strange animals. Between the hunting grounds of the Yellow Knives and those of the Esquimaux, farther down stream, lies a debatable land of perhaps sixty miles in width, which affords the musk ox a sanctuary, and here there were scattered bands in every direction. At this season the big bulls were usually found alone, the cows and calves keeping together in small bands of ten to twenty. Their natural increase seems to be small, and calves were scarce in proportion to the number of cows. The Indians told me that a cow only calves once in two years, and this is probably true, as among the animals that we killed for food we found none that had lost a calf.

I have often been asked whether the flesh of the musk ox is good to eat, but people do not reflect that in the north, where the supply of provisions is uncertain, any kind of food is good. A fat cow killed in the fall hardly smells or tastes of musk, and I think its flesh would be palatable anywhere; but an old bull, especially in the rutting season, is a thing to be palmed off on your neighbour if there is any choice in the matter. The flesh of the calves we found insipid, and, eaten as it was without bread or vegetables, it failed to satisfy the appetite or to keep up the strength.

In the summer the musk ox live almost entirely on the green leaves of the small willows that grow in patches in the Barren Ground, and do not in this part of the country confine themselves entirely to moss all the year round, as I have seen stated. They fatten up in a wonderful manner during the short time they have for feasting, and begin the winter in splendid condition, though, according to the Indians, they are poor enough at the time of the spring hunt in April.

In summer hunting no dogs are used, but the still more destructive method of driving the musk ox into the water is often put into practice. When a band is discovered, a convenient place is chosen for the slaughter, and piles of rocks adorned with coats and gun-covers are set up a short distance apart, at right angles to the small lake that has been selected. Men are stationed at intervals to head the animals off, while others, making a détour, start the band in the right direction. On coming to the barricade the animals are afraid to pass the line of rocks, and, seeing themselves surrounded, take to the water as their best chance. Then the little canoes are launched and the whole band is quickly exterminated. The musk ox is a poor swimmer. He seems to have some difficulty in keeping his head above water, and never leaves the land except under compulsion.

If the animals are at a long distance from water, or only one or two are required for meat, they are easily approached under cover of the rolling ground, and, being naturally of an unwary disposition, are a sure prey for the Indian if he can persuade his long muzzle-loader to go off at the right moment. It might naturally be supposed that the musk ox is being rapidly exterminated, but I doubt if this is really the case. The head of the Great Fish River has always been the summer hunting ground of the Yellow Knives; and yet their chief told me that he had never known these animals more numerous than at the present day, and certainly a great many were killed while we were waiting for the ice in the river to break up. But this is only the edge of the musk-ox country: the rocky wilderness stretches far towards the north and east to the Arctic Ocean, uninhabited except by a few wandering Esquimaux close to the coast. Into this desert the winter hunters can never penetrate, as it lies too far beyond the tree-line to admit of wood being hauled on dog-sleighs. It is true that the number of hides exported by the Hudson Bay Company is greater than it used to be, but this is easily accounted for by the fact that the robes have increased in value, and the price now paid to the Indians in the north is sufficient to encourage them to haul the skins to the Fort, instead of using them for moccasins, as was formerly the case.

In spite of the many stories that the Indians told me, and the evident dread in which they hold the musk ox, I could not see anything to justify the belief that it is a dangerous animal to attack. I never saw anything resembling a charge, although I have often been close up to a badly wounded bull on purpose to see if there was any truth in these reports. But the Indians are given to superstition, and attribute miraculous powers to the musk ox, and probably the ferocious appearance of an old bull has worked upon their timid imaginations till they are ready to believe thoroughly in these traditions.

On expeditions of this kind there is really no sport in the ordinary acceptance of the term, and under any circumstances the musk ox is so easily approached that one soon tires of the slaughter; the same thing applies to the caribou, which are sometimes found in almost incredible numbers in the Barren Ground in summer or the woods in winter. But it is never a certainty that the game will be forthcoming when most required for meat, and the knowledge that starvation, even to the last extremes, may come upon you at any time, goes far to counterbalance the tameness of the sport when once you have reached the land of plenty. Sufficient excitement and danger will always be found in penetrating the little known desert of the north to satisfy the most enthusiastic sportsman explorer.

FOOTNOTES

[1] Another seems to have been evolved recently, if I may draw that inference from a highly-coloured print I see in the shop-windows intituled: ‘An African rhinoceros hunt.’ A gentleman, on a fiery rearing steed, is engaging the enemy at very close quarters, and, unless he is a left-handed gunner, on the impossible side, as he is riding in the same direction as his quarry, and at its near shoulder. He may not be answerable for this position of affairs; it looks awkward, but he appears content, and holds his gun firmly by the middle, muzzle in air. The rhinoceros is the interesting figure in the picture, for he is mailed, like the Asiatic variety, and is either a late discovery, or an escaped specimen from the travelling show of some African Wombwell.

Rhinoceroses are puzzles to others besides artists. An old yeoman farmer, many years ago, lay dying near my house; to amuse him I sent some sketches and odds and ends, and received a message thanking me, but putting me straight as to those two-horned creatures being rhinoceroses; the rhinoceros had but one horn, he had seen it in a book, and it was no use my saying it had two, for it hadn’t. I suggested to him that we wanderers, who went far afield for hunting and shooting, had a hand in making the books, but he wouldn’t have it, and died a firm believer in one horn.

[2] To my face the Kafirs always called me ‘Tlaga,’ which, I believe, means ‘on the look-out,’ wary, like game; behind my back, I have been told, I was called ‘Bones,’ from my leanness.

[3] I know in the representations on the medals of Faustina and of Septimius Severus the ears are African, though the bodies and heads are Indian; but these were struck nearly 400 years after Carthaginian times, when the whole known world had been ransacked by the Romans for beasts for their public shows; and I still think it possible that the Carthaginians—the great traders and colonisers of old—may have obtained elephants through some of their colonies, from India.

[4] Sir S. Baker tells me these prices are altered now, and that in 1892 elephant ivory fetches from 12s. to 18s. a pound, and hippo’s only from 5s. to 10s., as the dentists have given up using it.

[5] Mr. Wolf’s sketch does not quite bear out this statement; when he was drawing it I forgot to mention the peculiarity. I am, however, able to indicate it in the illustration, thanks to the courtesy of Mr. Caterson Smith, who altered the plate in accordance with my suggestion.

[6] I have said but little of our dogs, but they deserve mention. I never shot with them; but besides guarding the camp from surprise, they were invaluable, as in this instance, in helping us to pick up a wounded lion, or in telling us the whereabouts of a hard-hit ambushed buffalo—in this illustration the dog in the lion’s mouth was the Kafir’s, and the other two were the best I ever had (the likenesses are admirable). I have known them hold a lion at bay for nearly an hour, the larger one heading him continually, and the little rough Skye-looking fellow running in at intervals, nipping him in the rear, and then scuttling off at full speed.

[7] We heard of a third antelope which was said to burrow, but we never saw it. Has any later traveller anything to say about it? or is it a myth? The Kafirs were precise enough in their description.

[8] Here, again, my description must have been defective, and Mr. Wolf had not then been introduced to Jumbo, or the forelegs of the elephants would have been longer, the backs more sloping, the ears larger, and the facial angle less; but it is a beautiful piece of drawing and reproduces the surroundings and heated atmosphere most wonderfully.

[9] Since writing the above I find this subject has been discussed by the learned, and a decision arrived at unfavourable to the oryx; but I let my remarks stand, for I do not know that anything has been said on the glyphs in profile theory: the idea was first started in my mind by a conversation with the son of a late Bishop of Jerusalem.

[10] Zereba.

[11] This was one of many disappointments from the same cause, as at the time I was using a consignment of cartridges lately received from England, out of which 45 per cent. missed fire; and after I had had rather a disagreeable encounter with an old bull-buffalo, and had twice failed to stop a charging rhinoceros, my nerve was so shaken that I gave up using the 8-bore until I had sent to the coast for and received another lot (Messrs. Eley’s) which I had left behind, and which never once failed me, although they had been in the country, and in a moist atmosphere, over two years.

[12] Since this was written the roan antelope has been killed near the coast by Mr. Jenner. It is evidently very local.

[13] The small Celalolophus from Uganda has lately been described as a new species of C. equatorialis.

[14] It has now been verified from specimens obtained by Captain W. H. Williams, R.A.

[15] Tradition puts this bear at 1,900 lbs., but Mr. John Coles writes me that he saw the bear exhibited by a man named Adams in San Francisco; it was then said to weigh 1,500 lbs., and Mr. Coles adds, ‘I never heard any doubt expressed as to its weight.’—C. P.-W.

[16] Cf. W. Pike’s Barren Grounds of Northern Canada.

INDEX TO THE FIRST VOLUME