From North Pole to Equator: Studies of Wild Life and Scenes in Many Lands

by Alfred Edmund Brehm

Fig. 21.—The Maral Stag.

As the Maral stag excels ours, so is it with the Siberian or large roe-deer, which differs from ours in its larger growth and by the high antlers with weakly developed burrs. Its specific independence, however, is still a subject of controversy among taxonomists. In Siberia it prefers the stretches of woodland which have begun to recover from the effects of a conflagration, and in which the pichta fir is abundant. It also frequents the fringes of the forest and small woods, and ascends the mountains to considerable heights, not unfrequently above the forest-line; it may likewise pass into the open steppes, associating on the heights with the steinbock and wild sheep, and on the plains with the antelope. According to the nature of the country, it undertakes more or less regular migrations, even without being forced to these by forest fires, and in its wanderings it will traverse wide stretches and cross broad rivers without hesitation. In certain circumstances it appears in regions in which it has not been seen for years, and from these centres it makes excursions round about. In its wanderings it usually keeps to definite roads, but is now and then forced to follow narrow paths. The rocky and precipitous river-banks of the larger streams compel it to make its way through a few cross-valleys and gorges, and this necessity is often the animal’s ruin, for the trapper rarely omits to stretch his leading-fence across these runs, and to lay his pitfalls fatally. Wolf and lynx press upon it at every season; Russians and native Siberians likewise. Like other game it is hunted unsparingly; every circumstance is utilized and every trick is tried to effect its capture. At the beginning of the thaw, when cold nights have frozen the top layer of snow into a thin crust of ice, the hunter sets off on horseback or on snow-shoes with a pack of nimble dogs; he rouses the stag with his shouts and runs it down, fatiguing it the sooner the harder the ice is, for, as the stag bounds, the crust breaks under its slender hoofs, and its ankles are cut. In spring, the hunters entice the doe by imitating the cry of the fawn, and the buck is similarly allured in the leafy season by a skilful echo of the doe’s call; in the intermediate season and later, both sexes are inveigled by special dainties; in autumn a drive is organized, or the migrating deer is pursued in boats as he swims across the streams, and is killed in the water; in early winter he is shot from the swift sledge. In fact the only method of capture which is not resorted to is that of snaring, so common a practice with knavish hunters at home; but in all probability the reason for this abstinence is simply that the spring-bow is more effective.

Fig. 22.—The Elk Hunter—A Successful Shot.

The elk[34] exists under decidedly more favourable conditions, and has a firmer footing in the struggle for existence. Its haunts and habits, its strength and power of self-defence, secure it from many, if not most pursuers. A forest animal in the full sense of the word, as much at home in swamp and bog as in thicket or wood, overcoming with equal ease all obstacles of forest and morass, assured by the nature of its diet from the scarcity of winter, it escapes more readily than any other beast of the chase from pursuit either by man or by other dangerous enemies. The latter include wolves, lynxes, bears, and gluttons; but it may be doubted whether all these beasts of prey together very seriously affect the elk. For it is as strong as it is courageous, it has in its sharp hoofs even more formidable weapons than its antlers, and it knows right well how to use both of them. It may fall victim to a bear who surprises and overcomes it; but it undoubtedly hurls a single wolf to the ground, and may even be victorious over a pack of these eternally hungry creatures. As to lynx and glutton, the old story that these are able to leap on the elk’s neck and sever the jugular vein does not seem to have been proved. Only against human weapons are the elk’s resources ineffective. But its pursuit in Siberian forests is a precarious undertaking, and is little practised except by the natives. During summer the water-loving beast is hardly to be got at; it spends the greater part of the season in the marsh, browsing by night and resting by day among the high marsh-plants in a place accessible only to itself. The juicy water-plants and their roots suit it better than the sharp sedges, and it therefore browses in the deeper parts of the bog, where it pulls the plants out of the water, dipping its uncouth head in the muddy moisture as far as the roots of its donkey-like ears. When it lifts its head it blows from its nose and mouth the mud and moisture which necessarily entered its nostrils as it grubbed, and this makes a loud snorting noise which can be heard from afar. Experienced hunters have based a peculiar trick of the chase on the elk’s method of feeding. They listen to the usually watchful animal for several nights in succession, and mark his whereabouts; thither in the daylight they quietly carry a light, shallow-water boat; by night, guided by the snorting, they row with muffled oars towards the browsing creature, whose scent and hearing are dulled by his grubbing; at close range they send a bullet through him. The clearness of the northern summer night facilitates operations, though it renders close approach more difficult; yet the sport is all the more exciting, and by eager lovers of the chase it is pursued passionately, and usually with success. On the advent of frost the elk leaves the swamps, for the brittle coat of ice hinders his movements, and hies to the drier parts of the forest until the thickly falling snow forces him to wander in search of specially favourable localities. At this season the chase of the elk, with well-trained and, above all, silent dogs, is preferred to all other sport. In its wanderings the elk does not avoid human settlements, and betraying itself by its unmistakable footprints, soon has the huntsman on its heels. Now is the time to send the dogs after it. Their duty is to keep the creature continually agog, but never to chase it. They must never attack it in the rear, nor ever come too near it, but must rather bark at it continually, and keep its attention unceasingly engrossed. When the elk sees itself thus threatened in front it stops after a short trot, looks angrily at the dogs, seems trying to make up its mind to attack them, but only in rare cases succeeds in carrying out the resolution so slowly arrived at, and thus gives the sportsmen time to get within easy range, and to take sure aim. If a small herd of elk is suddenly surprised by the dogs and driven into a narrow defile, they may be so nonplussed that several may fall before a well-handled rifle. But when old experienced elks are pursued for some time during a heavy snowfall they take the first trodden path which they come across, and trot along it whether it lead to the recesses of the forest or to the township; thus they are not unfrequently led quite close to inhabited houses, on seeing which they diverge into the woods. A hard crust of snow is not less dangerous to the elks than to the roe-deer; and then the spirited and experienced huntsmen pursue them even with boar-spears, speeding along on snow-shoes, outrunning and fatiguing the impeded animals till they can use the ancient weapons to good effect. The flesh is readily eaten both by immigrants and natives, but it has no great market value; the skin, on the other hand, finds ready sale at six to eight roubles[35] a hide, and affords the professional huntsman sufficient recompense for his trouble and exertions.

The wild reindeer belongs strictly to the tundra, but it also occurs throughout the whole extent of the forest-zone. Along the eastern slopes of the Urals it is frequent both in the depths of the forest and on the mountain heights, and the huntsmen of these parts accordingly speak with a certain emphasis of forest-reindeer and mountain-reindeer, and seem inclined to attribute different characteristics to the two kinds, though they cannot define their distinctive marks. The reindeer is less shy of populated districts than any other deer, which perhaps best explains the fact that every year among those living in freedom individuals are captured with slit ears and brand-marks. These have probably escaped from the herds of the Samoyedes and Ostiaks during the breeding season, and have wandered southwards till they met a wild stock to which they attached themselves. Once free from bondage, they very rapidly assume all the habits of wild life. But neither these escaped truants nor the wild forms are regarded by the forest-folk as of much moment among the beasts of the chase. Reindeer are indeed captured wherever, whenever, or however that may be possible; but apart from a few specially keen hunters of Russian origin only the natives pursue them with persistence and eagerness.

Excepting the Semites and the Russians, all sensible people include hares among edible game. In consequence of this exception, the variable hare of Western Siberia is hunted only by educated and unprejudiced Siberians of Russian origin, and by the natives of the North, who are uninfluenced by any laws of diet. Even the skin of the snowy hare, since it loses its fur very readily, has little value in the eyes of the huntsman, and perhaps for this reason is presented by the heathen peoples as an offering to the gods. Yet in spite of the indifference with which the forest-folk regard this rodent so highly prized by us, the hare is nowhere plentiful. Many perish in the traps; the majority are caught by wolves, foxes, and lynxes; and the severe winter, which often impels them to long migrations, thins them sadly. The hare is certainly not important among the beasts of the chase.

Among the non-edible furred beasts of the forest the first place may be given to the wolf, since it is most bitterly hated and most generally hunted. For although it is said that the direct injury which it does to man is not very considerable, or at any rate not insufferable, he misses no opportunity of destroying it. It is certain that in West Siberia wolves only exceptionally appear in large packs, and that they even more rarely venture to attack man, but it is equally certain that they do much damage to domestic animals. This is very considerable when we take into account the destruction caused by wolves among the herds of the nomads on the steppes and the tundra. There is no possibility of computing the numbers of wolves in the forest-zone. They are found everywhere and yet nowhere; to-day they fall upon the herds of a village, where there has been no trace of them for years, and to-morrow they ravage the sheepfolds somewhere else; they leave certain districts suddenly, and establish themselves in them again just as unexpectedly; here they defy their persecutors, and there precautions against them are almost superfluous.

Broad, much-used highways and settlements rich in meadows attract them, for on the former they find the carcasses of horses, and by the latter they find an easy booty in the herds which wander unhindered by any herdsman, and often stray far into the woods. But they are not absent from those parts of the forest which lie beyond the limits of traffic. Sometimes in broad daylight they are seen singly or in small packs prowling near the settlements; by night they not unfrequently pass through villages or even towns. In a single night they destroy dozens of sheep, attack horses and cattle also, and more rarely dogs (for which in other countries they show a preference). The only animals which they avoid are the courageous swine, for here and elsewhere these at once show fight, and invariably get the best of it.