It is the
snapping of these loose hoofs and ankle joints that makes the merry
clacking sound as caribou run.
Sometimes, however, they overestimate their abilities, and their
wandering disposition brings them into trouble. Once I found a herd of
seven up to their backs in soft snow, and tired out,--a strange
condition for a caribou to be in. They were taking the affair
philosophically, resting till they should gather strength to flounder
to some spruce tops where moss was plenty. When I approached gently on
snowshoes (I had been hunting them diligently the week before to kill
them; but this put a different face on the matter) they gave a bound
or two, then settled deep in the snow, and turned their heads and said
with their great soft eyes: "You have hunted us. Here we are, at your
mercy."
They were very much frightened at first; then I thought they grew a
bit curious, as I sat down peaceably in the snow to watch them. One--a
doe, more exhausted than the others, and famished--even nibbled a bit
of moss that I pushed near her with a stick.
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