In this country when you see a tree, you know perfectly well it is
not a tree; it's the horns of a Caribou. An unusually large affair
of branches appeared on an island in the channel to Aylmer. I landed,
camera in hand; the Caribou was lying down in the open, but there
was a tuft of herbage 30 yards from him, another at 20 yards.
I crawled to the first and made a snapshot, then, flat as a rug,
sneaked my way to the one estimated at 20 yards. The click of the
camera, alarmed the buck; he rose, tried the wind, then lay down
again, giving me another chance. Having used all the films, I now
stood up. The Caribou dashed away and by a slight limp showed that
he was in sanctuary. The 20-yard estimate proved too long; it was
only 16 yards, which put my picture a little out of focus.
There never was a day, and rarely an hour of each day, that we did
not see several Caribou. And yet I never failed to get a thrill
at each fresh one. "There's a Caribou," one says with perennial
intensity that is evidence of perennial pleasure in the sight.
There never was one sighted that did not give us a happy sense of
satisfaction - the thought "This is what we came for."
CHAPTER XXXIV
AYLMER LAKE
One of my objects was to complete the ambiguous shore line of Aylmer
Lake. The first task was to find the lake. So we left the narrows
and pushed on and on, studying the Back map, vainly trying to identify
points, etc. Once or twice we saw gaps ahead that seemed to open
into the great inland sea of Aylmer. But each in turn proved a
mere bay. - On August 12 we left the narrows; on the 13th and 14th
we journeyed westward seeking the open sea. On the morning of the
15th we ran into the final end of the farthest bay we could discover
and camped at the mouth of a large river entering in.
As usual, we landed - Preble, Billy, and I - to study topography,
Weeso to get firewood, and curiously enough, there was more firewood
here than we had seen since leaving Artillery Lake. The reason of
this appeared later.
I was utterly puzzled. We had not yet found Aylmer Lake, and had
discovered an important river that did not seem to be down on any
map.
We went a mile or two independently and studied the land from all
the high hills; evidently we had crossed the only great sheet of
water in the region. About noon, when all had assembled at camp,
I said: "Preble, why, isn't this Lockhart's River, at the western
extremity of Aylmer Lake?" The truth was dawning on me.
He also had been getting light and slowly replied: "I have forty-nine
reasons why it is, and none at all why it isn't."
There could be no doubt of it now. The great open sea of Aylmer was
a myth. Back never saw it; he passed in a fog, and put down with a
query the vague information given him by the Indians. This little
irregular lake, much like Clinton-Colden, was Aylmer. We had covered
its length and were now at its farthest western end, at the mouth
of Lockhart's River.
How I did wish that explorers would post up the names of the
streets; it is almost as bad as in New York City. What a lot of
time we might have saved had we known that Sandy Bay was in Back's
three-fingered peninsula! Resolving to set a good example I left a
monument at the mouth of the river. The kind of stone made it easy
to form a cross on top. This will protect it from wandering Indians;
I do not know of anything that will protect it from wandering white
men.
CHAPTER XXXV
THE MUSK-OX
In the afternoon, Preble, Billy, and I went northward on foot to
look for Musk-ox. A couple of miles from camp I left the others
and went more westerly.
After wandering on for an hour, disturbing Longspurs, Snowbirds,
Pipits, Groundsquirrel, and Caribou, I came on a creature that gave
me new thrills of pleasure. It was only a Polar Hare, the second we
had seen; but its very scarceness here, at least this year, gave
it unusual interest, and the Hare itself helped the feeling by
letting me get near it to study, sketch, and photograph.
It was exactly like a Prairie Hare in all its manners, even to the
method of holding its tail in running, and this is one of the most
marked and distinctive peculiarities of the different kinds.
On the 16th of August we left Lockhart's River, knowing now that
the north arm of the lake was our way. We passed a narrow bay out
of which there seemed to be a current, then, on the next high land,
noted a large brown spot that moved rather quickly along. It was
undoubtedly some animal with short legs, whether a Wolverine a
mile away, or a Musk-ox two miles away, was doubtful. Now did that
canoe put on its six-mile gait, and we soon knew for certain
that the brown thing was a Musk-ox. We were not yet in their country,
but here was one of them to meet us. Quickly we landed. Guns and
cameras were loaded.
"Don't fire till I get some pictures - unless he charges," were the
orders. And then we raced after the great creature grazing from
us.
We had no idea whether he would run away or charge, but knew that
our plan was to remain unseen as long as possible.
