MUTA AND MUSK-BULL.
481. For the following anecdote I am indebted to Sir G——e B——k, the intrepid and scientific navigator, whose name will be mentioned as long as British deeds of the present century are cited, descriptive of bold daring and perseverance in surmounting the greatest difficulties.
482. “On the 8th of September, 1834, after a laborious morning spent in ascending a part of the Thlew-ĕe-chōh-dezeth, or Back River, we were detained by the portage of the ‘Cascades.’ While the men were actively employed in carrying the things across, I was equally busy in the tent, working a series of observations which had just been obtained for longitude, &c.
483. “A little dog, a species of terrier, called ‘Muta’ from her silent, quiet habits, was my only companion. She had been the faithful follower of my party to the polar sea, and, independently of her value as a good watch, was not only a pet of mine, but had managed to become a great favourite with all the others.
484. “Muta had left the tent for upwards of an hour, but returned in great haste, bustled about inside, rubbed against me, and with eyes bright and eager stood looking in my face. Finding I paid no attention to her, she rushed out—came back, however, quickly; and standing over the gun, which was near me, again looked imploringly at me. Once more she sprung outside, and barked anxiously.
485. “Still I continued my calculations; and perhaps twenty minutes might have elapsed when Muta, warm and panting, leapt upon me—ran to the gun—then to the opening of the tent, and evinced such very unusual restlessness that I could not help fancying something must be wrong. Being alone, I thought it well to be prepared, and accordingly put a ball into my second barrel,—there always was one in the first,—and followed her out.
486. “Her joy was unbounded, and perfectly noiselessly she led me such a distance that I thought she was deceiving me, and I chidingly told her so; but she still persisted in going forward, pleased though excited. I walked on a little further, when conceiving I was but losing my time I turned back. She ran round to intercept me, and so earnestly resisted my attempts to retrace my steps, that I yielded to the appeal, and again consented to accompany her.
487. “She brought me to the edge of a gully, fully half-a-mile from the tent, partly sheltered by willows. Here she stopped. Thinking she had tricked me, I began to reproach her, on which she darted like lightning into the underwood, barking furiously, when, to my great surprise, out rushed a large musk bull, which unluckily I only wounded, to Muta’s manifest disappointment, and my own great annoyance.
488. “Poor Muta’s sad fate is recorded in the 462d page of my Narrative of the Arctic Land Expedition of 1833–4–5, and she may be seen in the mouth of the white wolf that killed her, safely housed in a glass case within the walls of the United Service Institution.”