Thus, as regards its stores of food, and its provision against the severity of the Arctic winter, the reindeer would seem to be suitably and amply endowed; and its greatest trial is the incessant rapacity of the wolves that follow its track throughout the winter season. As that season advances, the unfortunate animal apparently resigns itself to an evil which it cannot avoid or avert; and the calm composure with which a small troop of these creatures will graze with an entourage of half a dozen wolves is not less curious to the observer than philosophical on the part of the reindeer!
“A herd of deer,” says an eye-witness, “thus surrounded by the wolves, who were too great cowards to rush in upon their prey, would be startled every now and then by the long-drawn unearthly howl of the hungry brutes; sometimes a frightened deer, horror-stricken at the abominable chant, dashes madly away from the herd,—away all, or a portion, of the wolfish fraternity go after it. In many cases the scene may be briefly summed up with the old three-volume denouement of—a rush, a shriek, a crunching of bones, and snarling of beasts of prey, and all is over! for the wonderful powers of swallow and horrid voracity of an Arctic wolf must be seen to be understood; no writer would peril his reputation for veracity by repeating what has been seen on that head. But sometimes the frightened deer gains the open country, and goes wonderful distances dogged by the persevering wolf, who assuredly has it, unless another herd is met which admits the hunted deer into its ranks.
“Occasionally, whilst a herd of deer are grazing, one of them may happen to hit upon a spot where the food is plentiful; it naturally lingers there, while the herd is moving slowly on against the wind. The wolves immediately mark the straggler, and stealthily crawl on, their object being to cut him off from the herd; that effected, there is a howl and a rush, which if the deer does not evade by extraordinary exertions, his fate is instantly sealed.”
These scenes are enacted throughout the long Arctic winter. When sight is rendered useless, scent comes to the aid of the rapacious destroyer; and we can well believe that many an explorer, in the December darkness of the frozen wastes, has often wished his olfactory nerves were as sensitively organized as those of the wolf. For although he can then hear the reindeer, it is impossible to see them, except when they hurry across the dark but snowy landscape; and many a bad shot has been made by a hungry seaman at a large pair of melancholy eyes which peered out of the enveloping mist, because he could not tell, for the life of him, whether the animal was distant two or twenty yards.
In the dreadful winter of 1852–53, the deer approached close to the exploring-ship Investigator, having quitted the land and traversed the belt of ice. It is difficult to say whether this was done with a view of seeking the warmth which instinct, if not scent, told them radiated from the vessels,—the vessels, compared with the temperature everywhere prevailing (namely, 9·5° below freezing-point), being complete volcanoes of heat; or whether it was for security against their wolfish enemies. Probably, it was for the first-named reason; inasmuch as it is recorded that the foxes of Leopold Harbour, in 1848, soon became aware of the warmer atmosphere produced by the presence of Sir James Ross’s squadron, and sagaciously burrowed and bred in the embankments thrown up around the ships.
But, at length, winter and its sorrows pass away, and early in the new year a happier life dawns on the much-tried reindeer. In February and March the seals begin to breed, and as the attention of the wolves and other beasts of prey is then drawn to the helpless young, which are truly “delicious morsels,” the holidays of the reindeer may be said to commence. We may remind the reader also that the Arctic hare and the lemming winter in the icy north, and yield occasional meals to wolf and fox.
The spring returns, and as the sun rises above the horizon, the great herds gradually break up and scatter abroad; and the deer may then be seen in wandering groups of three or four, until once more the autumn-twilight deepens, and they reassemble in numerous companies.
As the reindeer is the camel of the Polar World, so the Arctic wolf may be said to occupy the place of the tiger; so daring is its courage, and so fierce its lust of blood. Assembling in large packs, they are not afraid to haunt the immediate neighbourhood of man. In Captain M’Clintock’s expedition, they gathered round the Investigator at such close quarters, that it was unsafe for the crew to leave the ship, unless in companies, and well-armed; and with their melancholy howls they made night hideous. Five of them attempted to pounce on an Eskimo dog which had long been the pet of the Investigator. One of these brutes is described as a “perfect giant,” standing nearly four feet high at the shoulder, and having a footmark as big as a reindeer’s.
Our English seamen planned many a clever scheme to entrap these wary creatures, but all failed, while some of the encounters with them were unpleasantly close, and the risk very considerable. One day, the boatswain, while out shooting, broke by a shot two of the legs of a fine buck reindeer. Evening coming on, and he knowing the animal could not drag itself far, returned to the ship. Next morning, he started at an early hour to secure his prize. What was his disgust, when he arrived at the place, to find his booty in the possession of five large wolves and several foxes! Determined to have, at all events, a share, the boatswain advanced, shouting with all his might, and hurling at the thieves every opprobrious phrase he could invent, yet afraid to fire his single-barrelled gun at any one of them, for fear the rest should serve him as they were serving the buck; more particularly as they appeared inclined to show fight, and made no sign of retreat until he was within four yards. Even then only four had the grace to move away, sitting down a pistol-shot off, and howling most lamentably.
The boatswain picked up a leg of the deer, which had been dismembered, and then grasped one end of the half-devoured carcass, while a large she wolf tugged against him at the other.