I never was more astray in
my preconcept of any animal, for I had expected to see something
like a large brown sheep.
My, first film was fired. Then, for some unknown reason, that
Musk-ox took it into his head to travel fast away from us, not
even stopping to graze; he would soon have been over a rocky ridge.
I nodded to Preble. His rifle rang; the bull wheeled sharp about
with an angry snort and came toward us. His head was up, his eye
blazing, and he looked like a South African Buffalo and a Prairie
Bison combined, and seemed to get bigger at every moment. We were
safely hidden behind rocks, some fifty yards from him now, when I
got my second snap.
Realising the occasion, and knowing my men, I said: "Now, Preble, I
am going to walk up to that bull and get a close picture. He will
certainly charge me, as I shall be nearest and in full view. There
is only one combination that can save my life: that is you and that
rifle."
Then with characteristic loquacity did Preble reply: "Go ahead."
I fixed my camera for twenty yards and quit the sheltering rock.
The bull snorted, shook his head, took aim, and just before the
precious moment was to arrive a heavy shot behind me, rang out, the
bull staggered and fell, shot through the heart, and Weeso cackled
aloud in triumph.
How I cursed the meddling old fool. He had not understood. He
saw, as he supposed, "the Okimow in peril of his life," and acted
according to the dictates of his accursedly poor discretion. Never
again shall he carry a rifle with me.
So the last scene came not, but we had the trophy of a Musk-ox
that weighed nine hundred pounds in life and stood five feet high
at the shoulders - a world's record in point of size.
Now we must camp perforce to save the specimen. Measurements, photos,
sketches, and weights were needed, then the skinning and preparing
would be a heavy task for all. In the many portages afterwards the
skull was part of my burden; its weight was actually forty pounds,
its heaviness was far over a hundred.
What extraordinary luck we were having. It was impossible in our
time limit to reach the summer haunt of the Caribou on the Arctic
Coast, therefore the Caribou came to us in their winter haunt on
the Artillery Lake. We did not expect to reach the real Musk-ox
country on the Lower Back River, so the Musk-ox sought us out on
Aylmer Lake. And yet one more piece of luck is to be recorded. That
night something came in our tent and stole meat. The next night
Billy set a trap and secured the thief - an Arctic Fox in summer
coat. We could not expect to go to him in his summer home, so he
came to us.
While the boys were finishing the dressing of the bull's hide, I,
remembering the current from the last bay, set out on foot over the
land to learn the reason. A couple of miles brought me to a ridge
from which I made the most important geographical discovery of the
journey. Stretching away before me to the far dim north-west was
a great, splendid river - broad, two hundred yards wide in places,
but averaging seventy or eighty yards across - broken by white
rapids and waterfalls, but blue deep in the smoother stretches and
emptying into the bay we had noticed. So far as the record showed,
I surely was the first white man to behold it. I went to the margin;
it was stocked with large trout. I followed it up a couple of miles
and was filled with the delight of discovery. "Earl Grey River"',
I have been privileged to name it after the distinguished statesman,
now Governor-general of Canada.
Then and there I built a cairn, with a record of my visit, and
sitting on a hill with the new river below me, I felt that there
was no longer any question of the expedition's success. The entire
programme was carried out. I had proved the existence of abundance
of Caribou, had explored Aylmer Lake, had discovered two great
rivers, and, finally, had reached the land of the Musk-ox and secured
a record-breaker to bring away. This I felt was the supreme moment
of the journey.
Realizing the farness of my camp, from human abode - it could scarcely
have been farther on the continent - my thoughts flew back to the
dear ones at home, and my comrades, the men of the Camp-fire Club.
I wondered if their thoughts were with me at the time. How they must
envy me the chance of launching into the truly unknown wilderness,
a land still marked on the maps as "unexplored!" How I enjoyed the
thoughts of their sympathy over our probable perils and hardships,
and imagined them crowding around me with hearty greetings on my
safe return! Alas! for the rush of a great city's life and crowds,
I found out later that these, my companions, did not even know that
I had been away from New York.
CHAPTER XXXVI
THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES AND MY FARTHEST NORTH
Camp Musk-Ox provided many other items of interest besides the Great
River, the big Musk-ox, and the Arctic Fox. Here Preble secured a
Groundsquirrel with its cheek-pouches full of mushrooms and shot
a cock Ptarmigan whose crop was crammed with leaves of willow and
birch, though the ground was bright with berries of many kinds. The
last evening we were there a White Wolf followed Billy into camp,
keeping just beyond reach of his shotgun; and, of course, we saw
Caribou every hour or two.
