Now we were a hundred miles south of the Hudson's Bay post, and two
weeks north of any other settlement. Saving a horse, a dog would be
about the last thing to occur to one in guessing at the identity of any
strange animal. This looked like a little black blotch, without form.
Yet Peter knew it. It was a dog, lost from some Indian hunting-party,
and mightily glad to see us.
The sense of smell, too, is developed to an extent positively uncanny
to us who have needed it so little. Your Woods Indian is always
sniffing, always testing the impressions of other senses by his
olfactories. Instances numerous and varied might be cited, but probably
one will do as well as a dozen. It once became desirable to kill a
caribou in country where the animals are not at all abundant.
Tawabinisay volunteered to take Jim within shot of one. Jim describes
their hunt as the most wonderful bit of stalking he had ever seen. The
Indian followed the animal's tracks as easily as you or I could have
followed them over snow. He did this rapidly and certainly. Every once
in a while he would get down on all fours to sniff inquiringly at the
crushed herbage. Always on rising to his feet he would give the result
of his investigations. "Ah-teek [caribou] one hour."
And later, "Ah-teek half hour."
Or again, "Ah-teek quarter hour."
And finally, "Ah-teek over nex' hill."
And it was so.
In like manner, but most remarkable to us because the test of direct
comparison with our own sense was permitted us, was their acuteness of
hearing.
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