rubbed off on tree
trunks, fallen antlers, and countless heart-shaped tracks barely
puncturing the snow but for the sharp outer edge. The caribou were on
their yearly traverse east to west for the shelter of the inland woods.
The Indians at once pitched camp. Scouts went scouring to find which
way the caribou herds were coming. Pounds of snares were constructed
of shrubs and saplings stuck up in palisades with scarecrows on the
pickets round a V-shaped enclosure. The best hunters took their
station at the angle of the V, armed with loaded muskets and long,
lank, and iron-pointed arrows. Women and children lined the palisades
to scare back high jumpers or strays of the caribou herd. Then scouts
and dogs beat up the rear of the fleeing herd, driving the caribou
straight for the pound. By a curious provision of nature, the male
caribou sheds its antlers just as he leaves the Barren Lands for the
wooded interior, where the horns would impede flight through brush, and
he only leaves the woods for the bare open when the horns are grown
enough to fight the annual battle to protect the herd from the wolf
pack ravenous with spring hunger. For one caribou caught in the pound
by Hearne's Indians, a hundred of the herd escaped; for the caribou
crossed the Barrens in tens of thousands, and Matonabbee's braves
obtained enough venison for the trip to the "Far-Off-Metal River."

The farther north they travelled the scanter became the growth of pine
and poplar and willow. Snow still lay heavy in April; but Matonabbee
ordered a halt while there was still large enough wood to construct
dugouts to carry provisions down the river. The boats were built large
and heavy in front, light behind. This was to resist the ice jam of
Northern currents. The caribou hunt had brought other Indians to the
Barren Lands. Matonabbee was joined by two hundred warriors. Though
the tribes puffed the calumet of peace together, they drew their war
hatchets when they saw the smoke of an alien tribe's fire rise against
the northern sky. A suspicion that he hardly dared to acknowledge
flashed through Hearne's mind. Eleven thousand beaver pelts were
yearly brought down to the fort from the unknown river. How did the
Chipewyans obtain these pelts from the Eskimo? What was the real
reason of the Indian eagerness to conduct the white man to the
"Far-Off-Metal River"? The white man was not taken into the confidence
of the Indian council; but he could