A tall, dead, white spruce at the camp was 30 feet high and 11
inches in diameter at 4 feet from the ground. Its 190 rings were
hard to count, they were so thin. The central ones were thickest,
there being 16 to the inmost inch of radius; on the outside to the
north 50 rings made only 1/2 an inch and 86 made one inch.
Numbers 42 and 43, counting from the outside, were two or three
times as thick as those outside of them and much thicker than the
next within; they must have represented years of unusual summers.
No. 99 also was of great size. What years these corresponded with
one could not guess, as the tree was a long time dead.
Another, a dwarf but 8 feet high, was 12 inches through. It had
205 rings plus a 5-inch hollow which we reckoned at about 100 rings
of growth; 64 rings made only 1 3/8 inches; the outmost of the 64
was 2 inches in from the outside of the wood. Those on the outer
two inches were even smaller, so as to be exceedingly difficult to
count. This tree was at least 300 years old; our estimates varied,
according to the data, from 300 to 325 years.
These, then, are the facts for extremes. In Idaho or Connecticut
it took about 10 years to produce the same amount of timber as took
300 years on the edge of the Arctic Zone.
CHAPTER XXXII
THE TREELESS PLAINS
On August 7 we left Camp Last Woods. Our various specimens, with a
stock of food, were secured, as usual, in a cache high in two trees,
in this case those already used by Tyrrell seven years before, and
guarded by the magic necklace of cod hooks.
By noon (in 3 hours) we made fifteen miles, camping far beyond
Twin Buttes. All day long the boat shot through water crowded with
drowned gnats. These were about 10 to the square inch near shore
and for about twenty yards out, after that 10 to the square foot
for two hundred or three hundred yards still farther from shore,
and for a quarter mile wide they were 10 to the square yard.
This morning the wind turned and blew from the south. At 2 P. M.
we saw a band of some 60 Caribou travelling southward; these were
the first seen for two or three days. After this we saw many odd
ones, and about 3 o'clock a band of 400 or 500. At night we camped
on Casba River, having covered 36 miles in 7 hours and 45 minutes.
The place, we had selected for camp proved to be a Caribou crossing.
As we drew near a dozen of them came from the east and swam across.
A second band of 8 now appeared. We gave chase. They spurted; so
did we. Our canoe was going over 6 miles an hour, and yet was but
slowly overtaking them. They made the water foam around them. Their
heads, necks, shoulders, backs, rumps, and tails were out. I never
before saw land animals move so fast in the water. A fawn in danger
of being left behind reared up on its mother's back and hung on
with forefeet. The leader was a doe or a young buck, I could not
be sure which; the last was a big buck. They soon struck bottom
and bounded along on the shore. It was too dark for a picture.
As we were turning in for the night 30 Caribou came trotting and
snorting through the camp. Half of them crossed the water, but the
rest turned back when Billy shouted.
Later a band of two hundred passed through and around our tents.
In the morning Billy complained that he could not sleep all night
for Caribou travelling by his tent and stumbling over the guy ropes.
From this time on we were nearly always in sight of Caribou, small
bands or scattering groups; one had the feeling that the whole land
was like this, on and on and on, unlimited space with unlimited
wild herds.
A year afterward as I travelled in the fair State of Illinois,
famous for its cattle, I was struck by the idea that one sees far
more Caribou in the north than cattle, in Illinois. This State has
about 56,000 square miles, of land and 3,000,000 cattle; the Arctic
Plains have over 1,000,000 square miles of prairie, which, allowing
for the fact that I saw the best of the range, would set, the Caribou
number at over 30,000,000. There is a, good deal of evidence that
this is not far from the truth.
The reader may recollect the original postulate of my plan. Other
travellers have gone, relying on the abundant Caribou, yet saw none,
so starved. I relied on no Caribou, I took plenty of groceries,
and because I was independent, the Caribou walked into camp nearly
every day, and we lived largely on their meat, saving our groceries
for an emergency, which came in an unexpected form. One morning
when we were grown accustomed to this condition I said to Billy:
"How is the meat?"
"Nearly gone. We'll need another Caribou about Thursday."
"You better get one now to be ready Thursday. I do not like it so
steaming fresh. See, there's a nice little buck on that hillside."
"No, not him; why he is nearly half a mile off. I'd have to pack
him in. Let's wait till one comes in camp."
Which we did, and usually got our meat delivered near the door.'
Caribou meat fresh, and well prepared, has no superior, and the
ideal way of cooking it is of course by roasting.
Fried meat is dried meat,
Boiled meat is spoiled meat,
Roast meat is best meat.
