“There wasn’t much ‘adventure’ in my day’s sport,” said he, “though I might call it a ‘bird-adventure’ too, for if it hadn’t been for a bird I shouldn’t have had it. I shot a deer—that’s all. But maybe it would be curious for you to know how I came to find the animal, so I’ll tell you.

“The first thing I did after leaving here was to climb the hill yonder,”—here Norman pointed to a long hill that sloped up from the opposite shore of the lake, and which was the direction he had taken, as Basil and François had gone right and left.

“I saw neither bird, beast, nor track, until I had reached the top of the hill. There I got a good view of the country ahead. I saw it was very rocky, without a stick of timber, and did not look very promising for game. ‘It’s no use going that way,’ I says to myself; ‘I’ll keep along the ridge, above where Frank’s gone. He may drive some varmint out of the hollow, and I’ll get a crack at it, as it comes over the hill.’

“I was about to turn to the left when I heard the skreek of a bird away ahead of me. I looked in that direction; and, sure enough, saw one wheeling about in the air, right above the rocky jumble with which the country was covered.

“Now it’s a mighty curious bird that I saw. It’s a sort of an owl, but, I should say myself, there’s a sprinkling of the hawk in it—for it’s as much like the one as the other.”

“No doubt,” interrupted Lucien, “it was one of the day owls of these Northern regions, some of which approach very near to the hawks, both in shape and habits. This peculiarity arises from the fact of the long summer day—of weeks in duration—within the Arctic circle, requiring them to hunt for their prey, just as hawks do; and therefore Nature has gifted them with certain peculiarities that make them resemble these birds. They want the very broad faces and large tufted heads of the true owls; besides the ears, which in the latter are remarkable for their size, and also for being operculated, or with lids, in the former are not much larger than in other birds of prey. The small hawk-owl (Strix funerea), which is altogether a Northern bird, is one of this kind.”

“Very well,” continued Norman, “what you say may be very true, cousin Luce; I only know that the bird I am speaking about is a mighty curious little creature. It ain’t bigger than a pigeon, and is of a mottled-brown colour; but what I call it curious for is this:—Whenever it sees any creature passing from place to place, it mounts up into the air, and hovers above them, keeping up a constant screeching, like the squalling of a child—and that’s anything but agreeable. It does so, not only in the neighbourhood of its nest—like the plover and some other birds—but it will sometimes follow a travelling party for hours together, and for miles across the country. From this circumstance the Indians of these parts call it the ‘alarm bird,’ or ‘bird of warning,’ because it often makes them aware of the approach either of their enemies or of strangers. Sometimes it alarms and startles the game, while the hunter is crawling up to it; and I have known it to bother myself for a while of a day, when I was after grouse. It’s a great favourite with the Indians though—as it often guides them to deer, or musk-oxen, by its flying and screaming above where these animals are feeding.

“Just in the same way it guided me. I knew, from the movements of the bird, that there must be something among the rocks. I couldn’t tell what, but I hoped it would turn out to be some creature that was eatable; so I changed my intention, and struck out for the place where it was.

“It was a good half-mile from the hill, and it cost me considerable clambering over the rocks, before I reached the ground. I thought to get near enough to see what it was, without drawing the bird upon myself, and I crouched from hummock to hummock; but the sharp-eyed creature caught sight of me, and came screeching over my head. I kept on without noticing it; but as I was obliged to go round some large rocks, I lost the direction, and soon found myself wandering back into my own trail. I could do nothing, therefore, until the bird should leave me, and fly back to whatever had first set it a-going. In order that it might do so, I crept in under a big stone that jutted out, and lay quiet a bit, watching it. It soon flew off, and commenced wheeling about in the air, not more than three hundred yards from where I lay. This time I took good bearings, and then went on. I did not care for the bird to guide me any longer, for I observed there was an open spot ahead, and I was sure that there I would see something. And sure enough I did. On peeping round the end of a rock, I spied a herd of about fifty deer. They were reindeer, of course, as there are no others upon the ‘Barren Grounds,’ and I saw they were all does—for at this season the bucks keep altogether in the woods. Some of them were pawing the snow to get at the moss, while others were standing by the rocks, and tearing off the lichens with their teeth. It so happened that I had the wind of them, else they would have scented me and made off, for I was within a hundred yards of the nearest. I was not afraid of their taking fright, so long as they could only see part of my body—for these deer are so stupid, or rather so curious, that almost anything will draw them within shot. Knowing this, I practised a trick that had often helped me before; and that was to move the barrel of my gun, up and down, with the same sort of motion as the deer make with their horns, when rubbing their necks against a rock or tree. If I’d had a set of antlers, it would have been all the better; but the other answered well enough. It happened the animals were not very wild, as, likely, they hadn’t been hunted for a good while. I bellowed at the same time,—for I know how to imitate their call—and, in less than a minute’s time, I got several of them within range. Then I took aim, and knocked one over, and the rest ran off. That,” said Norman, “ended my adventure—unless you call the carrying a good hundred pounds weight of deer-meat all the way back to camp part of it. If so, I can assure you that it was by far the most unpleasant part.”

Here Norman finished his narration, and a conversation was carried on upon the subject of reindeer, or, as these animals are termed, in America, “caribou.”

Lucien said that the reindeer (Cervus tarandus) is found in the Northern regions of Europe and Asia as well as in America, but that ............