CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.
THE AMERICAN DEER.
During our next day's journey we fell in with and killed a couple ofdeer--a young buck and doe. They were the first of these animals we hadyet seen, and that was considered strange, as we had passed through adeer country. They were of the species common to all parts of theUnited States' territory--the "red" or "fallow" deer (_CervusVirginianus_). It may be here remarked that the common deer of theUnited States, sometimes called "red deer," is the fallow deer ofEnglish parks, that the "elk" of America is the red deer of Europe, andthe "elk" of Europe is the "moose" of America. Many mistakes are madein relation to this family of animals on account of these misappliednames.
In North America there are six well-defined species of deer--the moose(_Cervus alces_); the elk (_Cervus Canadensis_); the caribou(_tarandus_); the black-tail or "mule" deer (_macrotis_); the long-tail(_leucurus_); and the Virginian, or fallow deer (_Virginianus_). Thedeer of Louisiana (_Cervus nemoralis_) is supposed by some to be adifferent species from any of the above; so also is the "mazama" ofMexico (_Cervus Mexicanus_). It is more probable that these two kindsare only varieties of the _Genus Virginianus_--the difference in colour,and other respects, resulting from a difference in food, climate, andsuch like causes.
It is probable, too, that a small species of deer exists in the Russianpossessions west of the Rocky Mountains, quite distinct from any of thesix mentioned above; but so little is yet known of the natural historyof these wild territories, that this can only be taken as conjecture.It may be remarked, also that of the caribou (_Cervus tarandus_) thereare two marked varieties, that may almost be regarded in the light ofspecies. One, the larger, is known as the "woodland caribou," becauseit inhabits the more southern and wooded districts of the Hudson's Bayterritory; the other, the "barren ground caribou," is the "reindeer" ofthe Arctic voyagers.
Of the six well-ascertained species, the last-mentioned (_CervusVirginianus_) has the largest geographical range, and is the mostgenerally known. Indeed, when the word "deer" is mentioned, it only ismeant. It is the deer of the United States.
The "black-tails" and "long-tails" are two species that may be callednew. Though long known to trappers and hunters, they have been butlately described by the scientific naturalist. Their _habitat_ is the"far west" in California, Oregon, the high prairies, and the valleys ofthe Rocky Mountains. Up to a late period naturalists have had butlittle to do with these countries. For this reason their _fauna_ has solong remained comparatively unknown.
The geographical disposition of the other four species is curious. Eachoccupies a latitudinal zone. That of the caribou, or rein deer, extendsfarthest north. It is not found within the limits of the United States.
The zone of the moose overlaps that of the caribou, but, on the otherside, goes farther south, as this species is met with along the extremenorthern parts of the United States.
The elk is next in order. His range "dovetails" into that of the moose,but the elk roves still farther into the temperate regions, being metwith almost as far south as Texas.
The fourth, the common deer, embraces in his range the temperate andtorrid zones of both North and South America, while he is not found inhigher latitudes than the southern frontier of Canada.
The common deer, therefore, inhabits a greater area than any of hiscongeners, and is altogether the best-known animal of his kind. Mostpersons know him by sight. He is the smallest of the American species,being generally about five feet in length by three in height, and alittle more than 100 pounds in weight. He is exceedingly well formedand graceful; his horns are not so large as those of the stag, but, likehis, they are annually caducous, falling off in the winter and returningin the spring. They are rounded below, but in the upper part slightlyflattened or palmated. The antlers do not rise upward, but protrudeforward over the brow in a threatening manner. There is no regularrule, however, for their shape and "set," and their number also variesin different individuals. The horns are also present only in the maleor buck; the doe is without them. They rise from a rough bonyprotuberance on the forehead, called the "burr." In the first year theygrow in the shape of two short straight spikes; hence the name"spike-bucks" given to the animals of that age. In the second season asmall antler appears on each horn, and the number increases until thefourth year, when they obtain a full head-dress of "branching honours."The antlers, or, as they are sometimes called, "points," often increasein number with the age of the animal, until as many as fifteen maketheir appearance. This, however, is rare. Indeed, the food of theanimal has much to do with the growth of his horns. In an ill-fedspecimen they do not grow to such size, nor branch so luxuriantly as ina well-fed fat buck.
We have said that the horns fall annually. This takes place in winter--in December and January. They are rarely found, however, as they aresoon eaten up by the small-gnawing animals.
The new horns begin to grow as soon as the old ones have dropped off.During the spring and summer they are covered with a soft velvetymembrane, and they are then described as being "in the velvet." Theblood circulates freely through this membrane, and it is highlysensitive, so that a blow upon the horns at this season produces greatpain. By the time the "rutting" season commences (in October), thevelvet has peeled off, and the horns are then in order for battle--andthey need be, for the battles of the bucks during this period areterrible indeed.--Frequently their horns get "locked" in such conflicts,and, being unable to separate them, the combatants remain in thissituation until both perish by hunger, or fall a prey to their naturalenemy--the wolf. Many pairs of horns have been found in the forest thuslocked together, and there is not a museum in America without thissingular souvenir of mutual destruction!
The hair of the American deer is thickly set and smooth on the surface.In winter it grows longer and is of a greyish hue; the deer is then,according to hunter phraseology, "in the grey." In the summer a newcoat is obtained, which is reddish, or calf-coloured. The deer is then"in the red." Towards the end of August, or in autumn, the whole coathas a blue tinge. This is called "in the blue." At all times theanimal is of a whitish appearance on the throat and belly and insides ofthe legs. The skin is toughest when "in the red," thickest "in theblue," and thinnest "in the grey." In the blue it makes the bestbuckskin, and is, therefore, most valuable when obtained in autumn.
The fawns of this species are beautiful little creatures; they arefawn-coloured, and showered all over with white spots which disappeartowards the end of their first summer, when they gradually get into thewinter grey.
The American deer is a valuable animal. Much of the buckskin ofcommerce is the product of its hides, and the horns are put to manyuses. Its flesh, besides supplying the tables of the wealthy, has beenfor centuries almost the whole sustenance of whole nations of Indians.Its skins have furnished them with tents, beds, and clothing; itsintestines with bowstrings, ball "raquets," and snow-shoes; and in thechase of this creature they have found almost their sole occupation aswell as amusement.
With so many enemies, it is a matter of wonder that this species has notlong been extirpated; not only has man been its constant and perseveringdestroyer, but it has a host of enemies besides, in the cougar, thelynxes, the wolverine, and the wolves.
The last are its worst foes. Hunters state that for one deer killed bythemselves, five fall a prey to the wolves. These attack the young andfeeble, and soon run them down. The old deer can escape from a wolf bysuperior speed; but in remote districts, where the wolves are numerous,they unite in packs of eight or ten, and follow the deer as hounds do,and even with a somewhat similar howling. They run by the nose, andunless the deer can reach water, and thus escape them, they will tire itdown in the end.
Frequently the deer, when thus followed in winter, makes for the ice,upon which he is soon overtaken by his hungry pursuers.
Notwithstanding all this, the American deer is still common in most ofthe States, and in some of them even plentiful. Where the wolve
s havebeen thinned off by "bounty" laws, and the deer protected during thebreeding season by legislative enactments, as is the case in New York,their number is said to be on the increase. The markets of all thegreat cities in America are supplied with venison almost as cheap asbeef, which shows that the deer are yet far from being scarce.
The habits of this creature are well-known. It is gregarious in itsnatural _habitat_. The herd is usually led by an old buck, who watchesover the safety of the others while feeding. When an enemy approaches,this sentinel and leader strikes the ground sharply with his hoofs,snorts loudly, and emits a shrill whistle; all the while fronting thedanger with his horns set forward in a threatening manner. So long ashe does not attempt to run, the others continue to browse withconfidence; but the moment their leader starts to fly, all the restfollow, each trying to be foremost.
They are timid upon ordinary occasions, but the bucks in the ruttingseason are bold, and when wounded and brought "to bay," are not to beapproached with impunity. They can inflict terrible blows, both withtheir hoofs and antlers; and hunters who have come too near them on suchoccasions have with difficulty escaped being gored to death.
They are foes to the snake tribe, and kill the most venomous serpentswithout being bitten. The rattle-snake hides from their attack. Theirmode of destroying these creatures is similar to that employed by thepeccary (_dicotyles_): that is, by pouncing down upon them with the fourhoofs held close together, and thus crushing them to death. Thehostility of the peccary to snakes is easily understood, as no soonerhas it killed one than it makes a meal of it. With the deer, of course,such is not the case, as they are not carnivorous. Its enmity to thereptile race can be explained only by supposing that it possesses aknowledge of their dangerous qualities, and thinks they should thereforebe got rid of.
The food of the American deer consists of twigs, leaves of trees, andgrass. They are fonder of the tree-shoots than the grass; but theirfavourite morsels are the buds and flowers of _nymphae_, especiallythose of the common pond-lily. To get these, they wade into the lakesand rivers like the moose, and, like them, are good swimmers.
They love the shady forest better than the open ground, and they hauntthe neighbourhood of streams. These afford them protection, as well asa means of quenching thirst. When pursued, their first thought is tomake for water, in order to elude the pursuer, which they often succeedin doing, throwing both dogs and wolves off the scent. In summer, theyseek the water to cool themselves, and get free from flies andmosquitoes, that pester them sadly.
They are fond of salt, and repair in great numbers to the salines, orsalt springs, that abound in all parts of America. At these they lickup quantities of earth along with the salt efflorescence, until vasthollows are formed in the earth, termed, from this circumstance, salt"licks." The consequence of this "dirt-eating" is, that the excrementof the animal comes forth in hard pellets; and by seeing this, thehunters can always tell when they are in the neighbourhood of a "lick."
The does produce in spring--in May or June, according to the latitude.They bring forth one, two, and very rarely three fawns at a birth.Their attachment to their young is proverbial. The mothers treat themwith the greatest tenderness, and hide them while they go to feed. Thebleating of the fawn at once recalls the mother to its side. The hunteroften imitates this with success, using either his own voice, or a"call," made out of a cane-joint. An anecdote, told by Parry,illustrates this maternal fondness:--"The mother, finding her young onecould not swim as fast as herself, was observed to stop repeatedly, soas to allow, the fawn to come up with her; and, having landed first,stood watching it with trembling anxiety as the boat chased it to theshore. She was repeatedly fired at, but remained immovable, until heroffspring landed in safety, when they both cantered out of sight." Thedeer to which Parry refers is the small "caribou;" but a similaraffection exists between the mother and fawns of the common deer.
The American deer is hunted for its flesh, its hide, and "the sport."There are many modes of hunting it. The simplest and most common isthat which is termed "still" hunting. In this, the hunter is armed withhis rifle or deer-gun--a heavy fowling-piece--and steals forward uponthe deer, as he would upon any other game. "Cover" is not so necessaryas silence in such a hunt. This deer, like some antelopes, is of a"curious" disposition, and will sometimes allow the hunter to approachin full view without attempting to run off. But the slightest noise,such as the rustling of dry leaves, or the snapping of a stick, willalarm him. His sense of hearing is extremely acute. His nose, too, isa keen one, and he often scents the hunter, and makes off long beforethe latter has got within sight or range. It is necessary in "still"hunting to leave the dog at home; unless, indeed, he be an animaltrained to the purpose.
Another species of hunting is "trailing" the deer in snow. This is doneeither with dogs or without them. The snow must be frozen over, so asto cut the feet of the deer, which puts them in such a state of fear andpain, that the hunter can easily get within shot. I have assisted inkilling twenty in a single morning in this way; and that, too, in adistrict where deer were not accounted plentiful.
The "drive" is the most exciting mode of hunting deer; and the onepractised by those who hunt for "the sport." This is done with hounds,and the horsemen who follow them also carry guns. In fact, there ishardly a species of hunting in America in which fire-arms are not used.
Several individuals are required to make up a "deer drive." They aregenerally men who know the "lay" of the country, with all its ravinesand passes. One or two only accompany the hounds as "drivers," whilethe rest get between the place where the dogs are beating the cover andsome river towards which it is "calculated" the startled game will run.They deploy themselves into a long line, which sometimes extends formiles through the forest. Each, as he arrives at his station, or"stand," as it is called, dismounts, ties his horse in a thicket, andtakes his stand, "covering" himself behind a log or tree. The standsare selected with reference to the configuration of the ground, or bypaths which the deer are accustomed to take; and as soon as all have soarranged themselves, the dogs at a distant point are set loose, and the"drive" begins.
The "stand men" remain quiet, with their guns in readiness. The barkingof the dogs, afar off through the woods, usually admonishes them when adeer has been "put up;" and they watch with eager expectation, each onehoping that the game may come his way.
Hours are sometimes passed without the hunter either seeing or hearing aliving thing but himself and his horse; and many a day he returns homefrom such a "chase" without having had the slightest glimpse of eitherbuck, doe, or fawn.
This is discouraging; but at other times he is rewarded for his patientwatching. A buck comes bounding forward, the hounds after him in fullcry. At intervals he stops, and throws himself back on his hauncheslike a halted hare. His eyes are protruded, and watching backward. Hisbeautiful neck is swollen with fear and rage, and his branching antlerstower high in the air. Again he springs forward, and approaches thesilent hunter, who, with a beating heart, holds his piece in theattitude of "ready." He makes another of his pauses. The gun islevelled, the trigger pulled; the bullet speeds forth, and strikes intohis broad chest, causing him to leap upward in the spasmodic effort ofdeath.
The excitement of a scene like this rewards the hunter for his long andlonely vigil.
"Torch-hunting," or "fire-hunting," as it is sometimes termed, isanother method of capturing the fallow deer. It is done by carrying atorch in a very dark night through woods where deer are known tofrequent. The torch is made of pine-knots, well dried. They are nottied in bunches, as represented by some writers, but carried in a vesselof hard metal. A frying-pan with a long handle, as already stated, isbest for the purpose.
The "knots" are kindled within the pan, and, if good ones, yield a blazethat will light the woods for a hundred yards around. The deer seeingthis strange object, and impelled by curiosity, approaches within range;and the "glance" of his eyes, like two burning coals
, betrays him to thehunter, who with his deadly rifle "sights" between the shining orbs andfire.
While we were on the subject of torch-hunting the doctor took up thecue, and gave us an account of a torch-hunt he had made in Tennessee.
"I will tell you of a `torch-hunt,'" said he, "of which _pars magnafui_, and which ended with a `catastrophe.' It took place in Tennessee,where I was for a while sojourning. I am not much of a hunter, as youall know; but happening to reside in a `settlement,' where there weresome celebrated hunters, and in the neighbourhood of which was anabundance of game, I was getting very fond of it. I had heard, amongother things, of this `torch-hunting,'--in fact, had read manyinteresting descriptions of it, but I had never witnessed the sportmyself; and was therefore eager, above all things, to join in atorch-hunt.
"The opportunity at length offered. A party was made up to go hunting,of which I was one.
"There were six of us in all; but it was arranged that we shouldseparate into three pairs, each taking its own torch and a separatecourse through the woods. In each pair one was to carry the light,while the other managed the `shooting iron.' We were all to meet at anappointed rendezvous when the hunt was over.
"These preliminaries being arranged, and the torches made ready, weseparated. My partner and I soon plunged into the deep forest.
"The night was dark as pitch--dark nights are the best--and when weentered the woods we had to grope our way. Of course, we had not yetset fire to our torch, as we had not reached the place frequented by thedeer.
"My companion was an old hunter, and by right should have carried thegun; but it was arranged differently, out of compliment to me--thestranger, he held in one hand the huge frying-pan, while in a bag overhis shoulder was a bushel or more of dry pine-knots.
"On arriving at the place where it was expected deer would be found, weset fire to our torch, and in a few moments the blaze threw its glaringcircle around us, painting with vermilion tints the trunks of the greattrees.
"In this way we proceeded onward, advancing slowly, and with as littlenoise as possible. We talked only in whispers, keeping our eyes turnedupon all sides at once. But we walked and walked, up hill and downhill, for, I should say, ten miles at the least; and not a single pairof bright orbs answered to our luminary. Not a deer's eye reflected theblaze of our torch.
"We had kept the fire replenished and burning vividly to no purpose,until hardly a knot remained in the bag.
"I had grown quite tired in this fruitless search. So had my companion,and both of us felt chagrin and disappointment. We felt this the morekeenly as there had been a `supper-wager' laid between us and ourfriends, as to what party would kill the greatest number of deer, and wefancied once or twice that we heard shots far off in the direction theothers had gone. We were likely to come back empty-handed, while they,no doubt, would bring a deer each, perhaps more.
"We were returning towards the point from which we had started, both ofus in a most unamiable mood, when all at once an object right before usattracted my attention, and brought me to a sudden halt. I did not waitto ask any questions. A pair of small round circles glistened in thedarkness like two little discs of fire. Of course they were eyes. Ofcourse, they were the eyes of a deer.
"I could see no body, for the two luminous objects shone as if set in aground of ebony. But I did not stay to scan in what they were set. Mypiece was up. I glanced hastily along the barrel. I sighted betweenthe eyes. I pulled the trigger. I fired.
"As I did so, I fancied that I heard my companion shouting to me, butthe report hindered me from hearing what he said.
"When the echoes died away, however, his voice reached me, in a full,clear tone, pronouncing these words:--
"`Tarnation, doctor! You've shot Squire Robbins's bull!'
"At the same time the bellowing of the bull, mingling with his own loudlaugh, convinced me that the hunter had spoken the truth.
"He was a good old fellow, and promised to keep dark; but it wasnecessary to make all right with `Squire Robbins.' So the affair soongot wind, and my torch-hunt became, for a time, the standing joke of thesettlement."