Part 3

Arthur H. Lamont, in charge of the meteorological office at Fort Churchill, gave me information concerning Caribou that he had seen during a plane flight from that point to Edmonton on March 18, 1947. At midday he had sighted hundreds, in bands averaging 20 to 30 individuals, on some little lakes, averaging a quarter of a mile in diameter, near the southwestern end of Reindeer Lake. The animals were right in the middle of the frozen lakes (evidently for a noonday rest), and some of them were lying down. They paid no attention to the plane at a height of 6,000 feet, but were frightened when it came down to 200 feet. This was the only area where Caribou were sighted during the entire flight.

Duncan A. McLeod, of Winnipeg, informed me that he had seen thousands and thousands of Caribou on April 16, 1941, while he was flying from Isle à la Crosse to Beaverlodge on Lake Athabaska. They were nearer to Lake Athabaska than to the starting-point. They were congregated on frozen lakes about the middle of the day.

"Their nomadic migrations during the past 10 years have brought caribou herds during winter months to northwestern Ontario (Little Sachigo Lake); central Manitoba (Cormorant, Cross, and Island Lakes); northern Saskatchewan (Churchill River); northeastern Alberta (Clearwater and Athabaska Rivers and Lake Claire)" (Banfield, 1949: 478, fig. 1).

Spring migration in the Churchill region

The Hudson Bay Railway is perhaps the only one in North America from which Barren Ground Caribou of the present subspecies have been seen. On May 21, 1947, a passenger reported three or four of the animals near Mile 326, between Gillam and Amery. Farther north, between Herchmer and Chesnaye, the railway passes for perhaps 30-40 miles through the western edge of a tundra area, interspersed with small spruce timber; this is known as the "Little Barrens." It was a thrilling experience to see my first Caribou here, during a period of three-quarters of an hour on the afternoon of May 21, from Mile 453 to about Mile 475. There were eight bands, varying in number from 2 to 60 or 70 and averaging about 20 individuals. The first and largest band was loping away from the train, at a distance of perhaps 350 yards. A band of 9 or 10, at about 250 yards, exhibited both a trotting and a loping gait. Others, as far off as half a mile or a mile and therefore less alarmed, seemed to content themselves with trotting. They maintained a noticeably close formation while fleeing from the train. Yearlings, appearing only about half the size of the adults, were readily distinguishable. The animals were in the midst of their spring migration and were evidently moving in a general northerly direction over the snow-covered Barrens. The ice of the small lakes was still solid enough for the Caribou to trot over it.

Two weeks previously a large movement had passed through this area, as I learned from several sources. A member of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police detachment at Churchill, for example, had traveled through the Caribou for a distance of 15 miles without coming to the end of them; he estimated their numbers at more than 5,000. Joe Chambers, a trapper of Goose Creek, said the animals had been very plentiful in April, moving generally northward. He spoke of finding a good many Caribou that Wolves had killed, contenting themselves with eating only the tongue and the unborn fawn.

According to a railway conductor, only 12 Caribou were seen from the train as it passed through the Little Barrens on May 25, and none on May 28.

John Ingebrigtsen, of Churchill, reported passing a frozen lake somewhere east of the Duck Lake Post, that was "absolutely full" of Caribou. It was about a mile and a half long by half a mile wide, and he estimated the number of animals at not less than 20,000. This was in the early part of May, 1942 or 1943, when the spring migration was no doubt under way.

During a plane flight from Eskimo Point to Baker Lake on May 22, 1947, John M. Bourassa and Don Gallagher sighted numbers of Caribou, including one herd of about 500. On May 28 the former saw a Caribou between Churchill and Fort Churchill. From other sources I learned that small numbers occasionally pass along the outskirts of Churchill during the migrations.

Professor Hazel R. Ellis (in litt., April 13, 1953) reports seeing several bands of Caribou from the train as it approached Churchill on June 8, 1947; also a band between Churchill and Fort Churchill on June 13 and 21, 1949, and a single animal on June 28, 1949, on the west side of the river near Churchill. On July 5, 1949, she filmed a herd of over 40 Caribou at Bird Cove on Cape Churchill.

Preble writes (1902: 41): "Between York Factory and Fort Churchill a few small bands [of Woodland Caribou] are found throughout the year on the 'Barrens'." He includes reports to this effect from several sources, including J. W. Tyrrell (1898). The latter, however, does not specify which species of Caribou his party encountered. It might be expected that R. a. arcticus, rather than R. caribou sylvestris, would be the proper inhabitant of this tundra area. It is beyond question that the animals seen in recent years on the "Little Barrens" between the Churchill and the Nelson Rivers are the Barren Ground species. Furthermore, Mr. G. W. Malaher, of the Manitoba Game and Fisheries Branch, informed me that a considerable number of this species spend the summer and have their fawns on the Barrens in this area.

Spring migration in the Nueltin Lake region

The general pattern of this migration, as manifested particularly about the northwestern portion of the lake, was explained by Charles Schweder. As a rule, practically all the local Caribou spend the winter in the wooded country to the southward. When the northward movement starts in the spring, the does precede the bucks; they migrate through this area mostly in May (and apparently more commonly in the latter half of the month), but to some extent in April or even earlier. During June the majority of the animals passing by are bucks. According to Fred Schweder, Jr., the spring migration here is more regular, less erratic, than the fall migration.

When I arrived at Nueltin Lake on May 31, the spring migration was in full swing; it continued through June in gradually lessening force, and the last northbound band was seen on July 1. In the meantime many interesting details of caribou behavior came to light.

While flying from Churchill to Duck Lake Post on May 31, at a height of about 500 feet, we detected three bands on the frozen surface of Seal River, where they were evidently taking a noonday rest. They numbered approximately 40, 20, and 6 individuals. Within 20 minutes after resuming our journey, from Duck Lake Post to Nueltin Lake, we saw four more bands, numbering from two to a dozen individuals. Finally, just before landing on Windy Bay, we noticed a band of perhaps 20 crossing the bay a mile from its head.

Observations during the following 10 days showed that this was a very definite crossing-place for the Caribou, as if some invisible barrier on each side kept them to a certain line of march. Moreover, Charles Schweder informed me that they followed this identical route year after year. An examination of the local topography (map 1) soon revealed the reason. The rugged south side of Windy Bay rises steeply for some 500 feet to the summit of the Windy Hills, and over a considerable distance there are precipices and talus slopes barring the passage of such animals as Caribou. But the mile-long South Bay, meeting Windy Bay at right angles, affords a convenient break in the hills; and the slopes thereabouts are gradual enough to be negotiated readily by the Caribou. So here they converge from the neighboring heights, making long, slanting trails through the snow that are visible for miles; they pass out of the narrow mouth of South Bay as through a funnel, then follow the beaten path of their predecessors across the ice of Windy Bay toward the farther shore, until they are lost to view among a cluster of islands. It may be further remarked that their course northeastward from the mouth of South Bay is less obstructed by islands than almost any near-by portion of Windy Bay.

From our camp, a mile or so distant, Caribou in bands of approximately the following numbers were observed using this crossing-place during the early part of June: June 1--7, 10, 18, 20, and several other bands of unrecorded size; June 2--10, 3, 7; June 3--4, 4, 10, 30, 70, and others; June 4--3, 40?; June 5--40, 50, 75; June 6--25; June 10--8. Of course many others must have passed while our attention was elsewhere engaged. In most cases my records indicate the time of day when the bands were crossing Windy Bay. The periods were mainly from 10 to 11 a.m., from 2:30 to 5 p.m., and in the evening. Perhaps the infrequency of midday passages was due to the habit of the Caribou of resting at this period. One of the last bands to pass during the evening of June 1 consisted of about 20 individuals. Two big bucks were in the lead, and apparently a few others were scattered along the line. At the very rear was a big, extra-dark buck, immediately preceded by a yearling barely half its size.

In crossing the bay ice, the animals traveled habitually in long files, one after the other, and yet not altogether in single file. In watching the endlessly interesting spectacle from camp, we could not always count the individuals exactly, for here and there a few would get abreast of others and be partly concealed. The general formation of each band was that of a much strung-out procession. For the most part the animals progressed at a moderate walking gait; there were no flies to spur them on at this season. On one occasion the forward element of a large band was actually running, but those in the rear were going calmly, and there was no visible cause of alarm. At mid-morning of June 6 most of a band of 25 were lying down to rest on the bay ice, while a few remained standing.

Meanwhile Caribou in some numbers were advancing northward by crossing Windy River, the ice on which did not break up generally till June 14. On June 3, for example, as I peeped out of my tent at 4 a.m., there was a band of about 15 making a crossing a quarter of a mile above camp. Late in the afternoon several dozen did likewise close to the same place. At this period I did not get farther upstream to note how many might be passing there. On June 14, while the river ice was breaking up but while the bay ice was holding firm, two bucks moved about on the latter, just off the river's mouth. They appeared to be seeking a safe crossing. The smaller of the two almost invariably preceded, just as if it were aware that it would be less likely to break through than its companion. For the most part they walked rather sedately, but now and then took up a very leisurely trot. On the following day a dozen crossed Windy Bay at about the same place. These were the last ones seen on the ice in June. Though the ice remained on the bay for some days longer, it had evidently become unsafe.

Thereafter the Caribou obviously preferred the short passage of Windy River (no more than 50 or 60 yards wide in places) to a swim of half a mile or so across Windy Bay. So they appeared in considerable numbers on the south bank of the river, reconnoitering for a suitable place to cross. Many were deterred by movements or sounds in our camp on the north bank, including the yelping invariably set up by the tethered Husky dogs whenever they would catch sight of Caribou; the latter would then be likely either to retreat behind the ridges or to pass upstream along the south bank. Along the half-mile extent of this bank visible from our camp, I noted the following making the passage of the river by swimming: June 18, a band of half a dozen; June 20, a band of three landing practically in our dooryard and about 14 crossing at the mouth; June 21, six crossing at the mouth; June 24, about 10 (mostly big bucks) landing just above the camp. On the morning of July 1 a buck swam across the bay just off the river's mouth, and a little later a band of about 11--the last seen on the spring migration--were trotting upstream along the south bank.

Various groups observed during June, principally on the south side of the bay and the river, furnished memorable spectacles. Besides resorting to open areas on the frozen lakes and rivers for their resting periods, the Caribou will also select some commanding hilltop for the same purpose. On June 3 a band of 75 appeared in midday on the summit of a rocky hill ("Caribou Knoll," map 1) rising to a height of some 150 feet on the far side of Windy River. While some kept on feeding, many of them lay down on snowbanks, apparently preferring these to the plentiful patches of bare ground, and doubtless passing the time by chewing their cuds. The velvet of the bucks' new antlers was plainly visible through field-glasses. In the variety of their attitudes on this rocky height the animals were disposed perhaps more like alpine Chamois than like the generally conceived masses of Caribou on the low Barrens. What a subject for a Millais!

It appears likely that the higher elevations may serve for the nocturnal rest as well as for a noonday siesta. During the evening of June 1, for instance, some 75 Caribou in a loose aggregation were feeding over the summit of Josie's Hill, beyond the junction of Windy and South bays. On June 20 I was enjoying a wonderfully clear and golden light that was cast on the imposing mass of this hill as the sun was setting at my back about 9 o'clock. The glory of that scene was enhanced by picking out with the naked eye, at a distance of a couple of miles, two separate bands of 12 to 15 Caribou making their way upward toward the broad, plateaulike summit. Meanwhile a lone Caribou was outlined against the sky on one of the rocky ridges to the south. Might not these various movements have indicated a common urge to spend the semi-darkness of the Arctic summer night on some high, open area where a good lookout for Wolves could be kept?

About 2 p.m. on June 15, a herd, perhaps half a hundred strong, appeared on a ridge directly across the river from camp. The animals made a lovely spectacle as they stood for a time, despite certain human movements in camp. Then they moved off upstream. A couple of hours later about 15 Caribou were feeding quietly on the south bank. On the following morning a band of 20 were doing likewise in nearly the same place. Among them were a patriarchal buck (apparently the leader), several other bucks, various does (one with hard horns), and a large proportion of yearlings. The bucks in general were lighter in color--more buffy; the does and yearlings, a sort of smoke gray. They seemed to be feeding to some extent on the patches of crowberry and dwarf birch. Presently they trotted off upstream, almost but not quite in single file, for a couple marched out of line with the others.

On June 17 a band of about 20 appeared at a distance of 125 yards on the brow of a low hill near Stump Lake. Nearly all were big bucks, with velvety antlers up to about 20 inches in length. Perhaps three in the band were hornless--if not does, then young bucks that had very recently shed their antlers. Two of the bigger bucks were in the lead. At first the band came toward me, then went off at a tangent at a good pace, splashed across a little stream in a spirited action, and disappeared over the next ridge.

Out of several bands appearing on June 20 on the opposite side of the river, one of about 14 individuals came down the slope near the mouth, took to the water at once, and made for the north shore. A strong buck landed first, and farthest upstream; others did nearly as well, but some of the smaller animals were swept by the strong current down into the bay and probably landed beyond the point. On reaching the shore, and even some minutes afterward, several of the Caribou could be seen shaking the water from their fur in doglike fashion.

On the morning of June 21 a dozen came to the ridge across the river, briefly inspected the camp, and retreated. In a short time they returned, four antlered bucks in the lead, and some hornless individuals in the rear (almost in a separate band). Three of the bucks stood side by side, looking long and earnestly at the camp, while the others grazed. Finally dissatisfied with the prospect, they made off upstream.

A little before 7 p.m. on the same day six Caribou appeared on the same ridge. For once the dogs were inattentive and silent. After promenading back and forth along the brow, the Caribou disappeared on the far side of the ridge; but in a few moments they were in the water at the river's mouth, in very close formation, three of them swimming abreast. There were three good bucks and three smaller, hornless animals. After they got ashore at the opposite point, there was wagging of tails and shaking of ears, heads, and bodies, while the water flew off in a spray. Then they leisurely proceeded along the shore and around the point.

About 7 p.m. on June 24 some 10 Caribou (mostly big bucks) swam the river and landed immediately above our camp. The last two, I noted, were heading almost upstream in the current that was running 6-8 miles per hour. They swam high, with the whole line of the back 2 or 3 inches out of the water and with the antlers tilted back to keep the snout above the surface. On landing, the animals hastened to the top of the Camp Ridge and ran off along it, while the chained and frustrated dogs expressed their feelings in the usual manner.