The Reindeer.—Structure of its Foot.—Clattering Noise when walking.—Antlers.—Extraordinary olfactory Powers.—The Icelandic Moss.—Present and Former Range of the Reindeer.—Its invaluable Qualities as an Arctic domestic Animal.—Revolts against Oppression.—Enemies of the Reindeer.—The Wolf.—The Glutton or Wolverine.—Gad-flies.—The Elk or Moose-deer.—The Musk-ox.—The Wild Sheep of the Rocky Mountains.—The Siberian Argali.—The Arctic Fox.—Its Burrows.—The Lemmings.—Their Migrations and Enemies.—Arctic AnatidÆ.—The Snow-bunting.—The Lapland Bunting.—The Sea-eagle.—Drowned by a Dolphin.

The reindeer may well be called the camel of the northern wastes, for it is a no less valuable companion to the Laplander or to the Samojede than the “ship of the desert” to the wandering Bedouin. It is the only member of the numerous deer family that has been domesticated by man; but though undoubtedly the most useful, it is by no means the most comely of its race. Its clear, dark eye has, indeed, a beautiful expression, but it has neither the noble proportions of the stag nor the grace of the roebuck, and its thick square-formed body is far from being a model of elegance. Its legs are short and thick, its feet broad, but extremely well adapted for walking over the snow or on a swampy ground. The front hoofs, which are capable of great lateral expansion, curve upward, while the two secondary ones behind (which are but slightly developed in the fallow deer and other members of the family) are considerably prolonged: a structure which, by giving the animal a broader base to stand upon, prevents it from sinking too deeply into the snow or the morass. Had the foot of the reindeer been formed like that of our stag, it would have been as unable to drag the Laplander’s sledge with such velocity over the yielding snow-fields as the camel would be to perform his long marches through the desert without the broad elastic sole-pad on which he firmly paces the unstable sands.

The short legs and broad feet of the reindeer likewise enable it to swim with greater ease—a power of no small importance in countries abounding in rivers and lakes, and where the scarcity of food renders perpetual migrations necessary. When the reindeer walks or merely moves, a remarkable clattering sound is heard to some distance, about the cause of which naturalists and travellers by no means agree. Most probably it results from the great length of the two digits of the cloven hoof, which when the animal sets its foot upon the ground separate widely, and when it again raises its hoof suddenly clap against each other.

A long mane of a dirty white color hangs from the neck of the reindeer. In summer the body is brown above and white beneath; in winter, long-haired and white. Its antlers are very different from those of the stag, having broad palmated summits, and branching back to the length of three or four feet. Their weight is frequently very considerable—twenty or twenty-five pounds; and it is remarkable that both sexes have horns, while in all other members of the deer race the males alone are in possession of this ornament or weapon.

The female brings forth in May a single calf, rarely two. This is small and weak, but after a few days it follows the mother, who suckles her young but a short time, as it is soon able to seek and to find its food. The reindeer gives very little milk—at the very utmost, after the young has been weaned, a bottleful daily; but the quality is excellent, for it is uncommonly thick and nutritious. It consists almost entirely of cream, so that a great deal of water can be added before it becomes inferior to the best cow-milk. Its taste is excellent, but the butter made from it is rancid, and hardly to be eaten, while the cheese is very good.

The only food of the reindeer during winter consists of moss, and the most surprising circumstance in his history is the instinct, or the extraordinary olfactory powers, whereby he is enabled to discover it when hidden beneath the snow. However deep the Lichen rangiferinus may be buried, the animal is aware of its presence the moment he comes to the spot, and this kind of food is never so agreeable to him as when he digs for it himself. In his manner of doing this he is remarkably adroit. Having first ascertained, by thrusting his muzzle into the snow, whether the moss lies below or not, he begins making a hole with his fore feet, and continues working until at length he uncovers the lichen. No instance has ever occurred of a reindeer making such a cavity without discovering the moss he seeks. In summer their food is of a different nature; they are then pastured upon green herbs or the leaves of trees. Judging from the lichen’s appearance in the hot months, when it is dry and brittle, one might easily wonder that so large a quadruped as the reindeer should make it his favorite food and fatten upon it; but toward the month of September the lichen becomes soft, tender, and damp, with a taste like wheat-bran. In this state its luxuriant and flowery ramifications somewhat resemble the leaves of endive, and are as white as snow.

Though domesticated since time immemorial, the reindeer has only partly been brought under the yoke of man, and wanders in large wild herds both in the North American wastes, where it has never yet been reduced to servitude, and in the forests and tundras of the Old World.

In America, where it is called “caribou,” it extends from Labrador to Melville Island and Washington Land; in Europe and Asia it is found from Lapland and Norway, and from the mountains of Mongolia and the banks of the Ufa, as far as Nova Zembla and Spitzbergen. Many centuries ago—probably during the glacial period—its range was still more extensive, as reindeer bones are frequently found in French and German caves, and bear testimony to the severity of the climate which at that time reigned in Central Europe; for the reindeer is a cold-loving animal, and will not thrive under a milder sky. All attempts to prolong its life in our zoological gardens have failed, and even in the royal park at Stockholm Hogguer saw some of these animals, which were quite languid and emaciated during the summer, although care had been taken to provide them with a cool grotto to which they could retire during the warmer hours of the day. In summer the reindeer can enjoy health only in the fresh mountain air or along the bracing sea-shore, and has as great a longing for a low temperature as man for the genial warmth of his fireside in winter.

The reindeer is easily tamed, and soon gets accustomed to its master, whose society it loves, attracted as it were by a kind of innate sympathy; for, unlike all other domestic animals, it is by no means dependent on man for its subsistence, but finds its nourishment alone, and wanders about freely in summer and in winter without ever being inclosed in a stable. These qualities are inestimable in countries where it would be utterly impossible to keep any domestic animal requiring shelter and stores of provisions during the long winter months, and make the reindeer the fit companion of the northern nomad, whose simple wants it almost wholly supplies. During his wanderings, it carries his tent and scanty household furniture, or drags his sledge over the snow. On account of the weakness of its back-bone, it is less fit for riding, and requires to be mounted with care, as a violent shock easily dislocates its vertebral column; the saddle is placed on the haunches. You would hardly suppose the reindeer to be the same animal when languidly creeping along under a rider’s weight, as when, unencumbered by a load, it vaults with the lightness of a bird over the obstacles in its way to obey the call of its master. The reindeer can be easily trained to drag a sledge, but great care must be taken not to beat or otherwise ill-treat it, as it then becomes obstinate, and quite unmanageable. When forced to drag too heavy a load, or taxed in any way above its strength, it not seldom turns round upon its tyrant, and attacks him with its horns and fore feet. To save himself from its fury, he is then obliged to overturn his sledge, and to seek a refuge under its bottom until the rage of the animal has abated.

After the death of the reindeer, it may truly be said that every part of its body is put to some use. The flesh is very good, and the tongue and marrow are considered a great delicacy. The blood, of which not a drop is allowed to be lost, is either drunk warm or made up into a kind of black pudding. The skin furnishes not only clothing impervious to the cold, but tents and bedding; and spoons, knife-handles, and other household utensils are made out of the bones and horns; the latter serve also, like the claws, for the preparation of an excellent glue, which the Chinese, who buy them for this purpose of the Russians, use as a nutritious jelly. In Tornea the skins of new-born reindeer are prepared and sent to St. Petersburg to be manufactured into gloves, which are extremely soft, but very dear.

Thus the cocoa-nut palm, the tree of a hundred uses, hardly renders a greater variety of services to the islanders of the Indian Ocean than the reindeer to the Laplander or the Samojede; and, to the honor of these barbarians be it mentioned, they treat their invaluable friend and companion with a grateful affection which might serve as an example to far more civilized nations.

The reindeer attains an age of from twenty to twenty-five years, but in its domesticated state it is generally killed when from six to ten years old. Its most dangerous enemies are the wolf, and the glutton or wolverine (Gulo borealis or arcticus), which belongs to the bloodthirsty marten and weasel family, and is said to be of uncommon fierceness and strength. It is about the size of a large badger, between which animal and the pole-cat it seems to be intermediate, nearly resembling the former in its general figure and aspect, and agreeing with the latter as to its dentition. No dog is capable of mastering a glutton, and even the wolf is hardly able to scare it from its prey. Its feet are very short, so that it can not run swiftly, but it climbs with great facility upon trees, or ascends even almost perpendicular rock-walls, where it also seeks a refuge when pursued.

When it perceives a herd of reindeer browsing near a wood or a precipice, it generally lies in wait upon a branch or some high cliff, and springs down upon the first animal that comes within its reach. Sometimes also it steals unawares upon its prey, and suddenly bounding upon its back, kills it by a single bite in the neck. Many fables worthy of MÜnchausen have been told about its voracity; for instance, that it is able to devour two reindeer at one meal, and that, when its stomach is exorbitantly distended with food, it will press itself between two trees or stones to make room for a new repast. It will, indeed, kill in one night six or eight reindeer, but it contents itself with sucking their blood, as the weasel does with fowls, and eats no more at one meal than any other carnivorous animal of its own size.

Besides the attacks of its mightier enemies, the reindeer is subject to the persecutions of two species of gad-fly, which torment it exceedingly. The one (Œstrus tarandi), called Hurbma by the Laplanders, deposits its glutinous eggs upon the animal’s back. The larvÆ, on creeping out, immediately bore themselves into the skin, where by their motion and suction they cause so many small swellings or boils, which gradually grow to the size of an inch or more in diameter, with an opening at the top of each, through which the larvÆ may be seen imbedded in a purulent fluid. Frequently the whole back of the animal is covered with these boils, which, by draining its fluids, produce emaciation and disease. As if aware of this danger, the reindeer runs wild and furious as soon as it hears the buzzing of the ’fly, and seeks a refuge in the nearest water. The other species of gad-fly (Œstrus nasalis) lays its eggs in the nostrils of the reindeer; and the larvÆ, boring themselves into the fauces and beneath the tongue of the poor animal, are a great source of annoyance, as is shown by its frequent sniffling and shaking of the head.

A pestilential disorder like the rinderpest will sometimes sweep away whole herds. Thus in a few weeks a rich Laplander or Samojede may be reduced to poverty, and the proud possessor of several thousands of reindeer be compelled to seek the precarious livelihood of the northern fisherman.

The elk or moose-deer (Cervus alces) is another member of the cervine race peculiar to the forests of the north. In size it is far superior to the stag, but it can not boast of an elegant shape, the head being disproportionately large, the neck short and thick, and its immense horns, which sometimes weigh near fifty pounds, each dilating almost immediately from the base into a broad palmated form; while its long legs, high shoulders, and heavy upper lip hanging very much over the lower, give it an uncouth appearance. The color of the elk is a dark grayish-brown, but much paler on the legs and beneath the tail.

We owe the first description of this gigantic deer to Julius CÆsar, in whose time it was still a common inhabitant of the German forests. But the conqueror of Gaul can hardly have seen it himself, or he would not have ascribed to it a single horn, placed in the middle of the forehead, or said that both sexes are perfectly alike, for the female is smaller and has no antlers. At present the elk is still found in the swampy forests of East Prussia, Lithuania, and Poland, but it chiefly resides in the more northern woods of Russia, Siberia, and America. It is a mild and harmless animal, principally supporting itself by browsing the boughs of willows, asps, service-trees, and other soft species of wood. It does not, like the reindeer, seek a refuge against the attacks of the gad-flies, by wandering to the coasts of the sea, or retreating to the bare mountains, where it would soon perish for the want of adequate food, but plunges up to the nose into the next river, where it finds, moreover, a species of water-grass (Festuca fluitans) which it likes to feed upon. Though naturally mild and harmless, it displays a high degree of courage, and even ferocity when suddenly attacked; defending itself with great vigor, not only with its horns, but also by striking violently with its fore feet, in the use of which it is particularly dexterous. It is generally caught in traps, as it is extremely shy and watchful, and finds an easy retreat in the swamp or the forest. The only time of the year when it can be easily chased is in the spring, when the softened snow gets covered during the night with a thin crust of ice which is too weak to bear the animal’s weight.

Though not ranging so far north as the reindeer or the elk, we find in the Old World the red-deer (Cervus elaphus), in the vicinity of Drontheim, in Norway, and along with the roebuck beyond Lake Baikal, in Siberia, while in America the large-eared deer (Cervus macrotis), and the Wapiti, or Canada stag (Cervus strongylo-ceras), extend their excursions beyond 55° of northern latitude. The latter is much larger and of a stronger make than the European red-deer, frequently growing to the height of our tallest oxen, and possessing great activity as well as strength. The flesh is little prized, but the hide, when made into leather after the Indian fashion, is said not to turn hard in drying after being wet—a quality which justly entitles it to a preference over almost every other kind of leather.

One of the most remarkable quadrupeds of the high northern regions is the musk-ox (Ovibos moschatus), which by some naturalists has been considered as intermediate between the sheep and the ox. It is about the height of a deer, but of much stouter proportions. The horns are very broad at the base, almost meeting on the forehead, and curving downward between the eye and ears until about the level of the mouth, when they turn upward. Its long thick brown or black hair hanging down below the middle of the leg, and covering on all parts of the animal a fine kind of soft ash-colored wool, which is of the finest description, and capable of forming the most beautiful fabrics manufactured, enables it to remain even during the winter beyond 70° of northern latitude. In spring it wanders over the ice as far as Melville Island, or even Smith’s Sound, where a number of its bones were found by Dr. Kane. In September it withdraws more to the south, and spends the coldest months on the verge of the forest region. Like the reindeer, it subsists chiefly on lichens and grasses. It runs nimbly, and climbs hills and rocks with great ease. Its fossil remains, or those of a very analogous species, have been discovered in Siberia: at present it is exclusively confined to the New World.

In the Rocky Mountains, from the Mexican Cordillera plateaux as far as 68° N. lat., dwells the wild sheep (Ovis montana), distinguished by the almost circular bend of its large, triangular, transversely striped horns, from its relative the Siberian argali (Ovis argali), which is supposed to be the parent of our domestic sheep, and far surpasses it in size and delicacy of flesh. Both the American and the Asiatic wild sheep are in the highest degree active and vigorous, ascending abrupt precipices with great agility, and, like the wild goat, going over the narrowest and most dangerous passes with perfect safety.

Among the carnivorous quadrupeds of the northern regions, many, like the lynx, the wolf, the bear, the glutton, and other members of the weasel tribe, have their head-quarters in the forests, and only occasionally roam over the tundras; but the Arctic fox (Canis lagopus) almost exclusively inhabits the treeless wastes that fringe the Polar Ocean, and is found on almost all the islands that lie buried in its bosom. This pretty little creature, which in winter grows perfectly white, knows how to protect itself against the most intense cold, either by seeking a refuge in the clefts of rocks, or by burrowing to a considerable depth in a sandy soil. It principally preys upon lemmings, stoats, polar hares, as well as upon all kinds of water-fowl and their eggs; but when pinched by hunger, it does not disdain the carcasses of fish, or the molluscs and crustaceans it may chance to pick up on the shore. Its enemies are the glutton, the snowy owl, and man, who, from the Equator to the poles, leaves no creature unmolested that can in any way satisfy his wants.

The lemmings, of which there are many species, are small rodents, peculiar to the Arctic regions, both in the New and in the Old World, where they are found as far to the north as vegetation extends. They live on grass, roots, the shoots of the willow, and the dwarf birch, but chiefly on lichens. They do not gather hoards of provisions for the winter, but live upon what they find beneath the snow. They seldom prove injurious to man, as the regions they inhabit are generally situated beyond the limits of agriculture. From the voles, to whom they are closely allied, they are distinguished by having the foot-sole covered with stiff hairs, and by the strong crooked claws with which their fore feet are armed. The best known species is the Norwegian lemming (Lemmus norwegicus), which is found on the high mountains of the Dovrefjeld, and farther to the north on the dry parts of the tundra, where it inhabits small burrows under stones or in the moss. Its long and thick hair is of a tawny color, and prettily marked with black spots. The migrations of the lemming have been grossly exaggerated by Olaus Magnus and Pontoppidan, to whom the natural history of the North owes so many fables. As they breed several times in the year, producing five or six at a birth, they of course multiply very fast under favorable circumstances, and are then forced to leave the district which is no longer able to afford them food. But this takes place very seldom, for when Mr. Brehm visited Scandinavia, the people on the Dovrefjeld knew nothing about the migrations of the lemming, and his inquiries on the subject proved equally fruitless in Lapland and in Finland. At all events, it is a fortunate circumstance that the lemmings have so many enemies, as their rapid multiplication might else endanger the balance of existence in the northern regions. The inclemencies of the climate are a chief means for keeping them in check. A wet summer, an early cold and snowless autumn destroy them by millions, and then of course years are necessary to recruit their numbers. With the exception of the bear and the hedgehog, they are pursued by all the northern carnivora. The wolf, the fox, the glutton, the marten, the ermine devour them with avidity, and a good lemming season is a time of unusual plenty for the hungry Laplander’s dog. The snowy owl, whose dense plumage enables it to be a constant resident on the tundra, almost exclusively frequents those places where lemmings, its favorite food, are to be found; the buzzards are constantly active in their destruction; the crow feeds its young with lemmings; and even the poor Lap, when pressed by hunger, seizes a stick, and, for want of better game, goes out lemming-hunting, and rejoices when he can kill a sufficient number for his dinner.

Several birds, such as the snowy owl and the ptarmigan (Lagopus albus), which can easily procure its food under the snow, winter in the highest latitudes; but by far the greater number are merely summer visitants of the Arctic regions. After the little bunting, the first arrivals in spring are the snow-geese, who likewise are the first to leave the dreary regions of the north on their southerly migration. The common and king eider-duck, the Brent geese, the great northern black and red throated divers, are the next to make their appearance, followed by the pintail and longtail ducks (Anas caudacuta and glacialis), the latest visitors of the season. These birds generally take their departure in the same order as they arrive. The period of their stay is but short, but their presence imparts a wonderfully cheerful aspect to regions at other times so deserted and dreary. As soon as the young are sufficiently fledged, they again betake themselves to the southward; the character of the season much influencing the period of their departure.

As far as man has penetrated, on the most northern islets of Spitzbergen, or on the ice-blocked shores of Kennedy Channel, the eider-duck and others of the Arctic anatidÆ build their nests; and there is no reason to doubt that if the pole has breeding-places for them, it re-echoes with their cries. Nor need they fear to plunge into the very heart of the Arctic zone, for the flight of a goose being forty or fifty miles an hour, these birds may breed in the remotest northern solitude, and in a few hours, on a fall of deep autumn snow, convey themselves by their swiftness of wing to better feeding-grounds.

One of the most interesting of the Arctic birds is the snow-bunting (Plectrophanes nivalis), which may properly be called the polar singing-bird, as it breeds in the most northern isles, such as Spitzbergen and Novaja Zemlya, or on the highest mountains of the Dovrefjeld, in Scandinavia, where it enlivens the fugitive summer with its short but agreeable notes, sounding doubly sweet from the treeless wastes in which they are heard. It invariably builds its nest, which it lines with feathers and down, in the fissures of mountain rocks or under large stones, and the entrance is generally so narrow as merely to allow the parent birds to pass. The remarkably dense winter plumage of the snow-bunting especially qualifies it for a northern residence, and when in captivity it will rather bear the severest cold than even a moderate degree of warmth. In its breeding-places it lives almost exclusively on insects, particularly gnats: during the winter it feeds on all sorts of seeds, and then famine frequently compels it to wander to a less rigorous climate.

The Lapland bunting (Centrophanes lapponicus), whose white and black plumage is agreeably diversified with red, is likewise an inhabitant of the higher latitudes, where it is frequently seen in the barren grounds and tundras. Both these birds are distinguished by the very long claw of their hind toe, a structure which enables them to run about with ease upon the snow.

Among the raptorial birds of the Arctic regions, the sea-eagle (Haliatus albicilla) holds a conspicuous rank. At his approach the gull and the auk conceal themselves in the fissures of the rocks, but are frequently dragged forth by their relentless enemy. The divers are, according to Wahlengren, more imperilled from his attacks than those sea-birds which do not plunge, for the latter rise into the air as soon as their piercing eye espies the universally dreaded tyrant, and thus escape; while the former, blindly trusting to the element in which they are capable of finding a temporary refuge, allow him to approach, and then suddenly diving, fancy themselves in safety, while the eagle is only waiting for the moment of their re-appearance to repeat his attack. Twice or thrice they may possibly escape his claws by a rapid plunge, but when for the fourth time they dive out of the water, and remain but one instant above the surface, that instant seals their doom. The sea-eagle is equally formidable to the denizens of the ocean, but sometimes too great a confidence in his strength leads to his destruction, for Kittlitz was informed by the inhabitants of Kamschatka that, pouncing upon a dolphin, he is not seldom dragged down into the water by the diving cetacean in whose skin his talons remain fixed.