Marengo rushed forward and seized the struggling owl, that snapped its bill at him like a watchman's rattle. But Marengo did not care for that; and seizing its head in his teeth, gave it a crunch that at once put an end to its flapping.
Marengo was reprieved, and he seemed to know it, as he bounded over the snow, waving his tail, and barking like a young fool.
They all ran up to the hare, which proved to be the “Polar hare” and one of the largest of its species—not less than fifteen pounds in weight. Its fur, soft and white like swan-down, was stained with red blood. It was not quite dead. Its little heart yet beat faintly, and the light of life was still shining from its beautiful honey-coloured eyes. Both it and the owl were taken up and carried to the sledge, which was once more attached to Marengo, as the party intended to go forward and halt under the shelter of the hill.
“There must be some wood in this quarter,” remarked Norman; “I never knew this sort of hare far from timber.”
“True,” said Lucien, “the Polar hare feeds upon willows, arbutus, and the Labrador tea-plant. Some of these kinds must be near.”
While they were speaking, they had reached the brow of the hill, on the opposite side from where they had ascended. On looking into the valley below, to their great joy they beheld some clumps of willows, and good-sized trees of poplar, birch, and spruce-pine, and passing down the hill, the travellers soon stood in their midst. Presently was heard the chipping sound of an axe and crash of falling timber, and in a few moments after a column of smoke was seen soaring up out of the valley, and curling cheerfully towards the bright blue sky.
CHAPTER XXXI.
THE JUMPING MOUSE AND THE ERMINE.