nd sailed gently forward; then, hovering for a moment over
the ground, hooked the grouse upon its claws, and was about to carry it
off, when a bullet from Lucien's rifle, just in the "nick of time," put
a stop to its further flight, and dropped the creature dead upon the
snow.

Lucien picked it up and brought it to the camp, where he passed some
time in making notes upon its size, colour, and other peculiarities.
The owl measured exactly two feet in length from the point of the bill
to the end of the tail; and its "alar spread," as naturalists term it,
was full five feet in extent. It was of a clove-brown colour,
beautifully mottled with white, and its bill and eyes were of a bright
gamboge yellow. Like all of its tribe that winter in the Arctic wilds,
it was feathered to the toes. Lucien reflected that this species lives
more in the woods than the "great snowy owl," and, as he had heard, is
never found far out on the Barren Grounds during winter. This fact,
therefore, was a pleasant one to reflect upon, for it confirmed the
testimony which the travellers had already obtained from several of the
other creatures they had killed--that is to say, that they must be in
the neighbourhood of some timbered country.

Lucien had hardly finished his examination of the owl when he was called
upon to witness another incident of a much more exciting nature. A
hill, as already mentioned, or rather a ridge, rose up from the opposite
shore of the lake by which the camp was pitched. The declivity of this
hill fronted the lake, and sloped gradually back from the edge of the
water. Its whole face was smooth and treeless, covered with a layer of
pure snow. The camp commanded a full view of it up to its very crest.

As Lucien was sitting quietly by the fire a singular sound, or rather
continuation of sounds, fell upon his ear. It somewhat resembled the
baying of hounds at a distance; and at first he was inclined to believe
that it was Marengo on a view-hunt after the deer. On listening more
attentively, however, he observed that the sounds came from more than
one animal; and also, that they bore more resemblance to the howling of
wolves than the deep-toned bay of a bloodhound. This, in fact, it was;
for the next moment a caribou shot up over the crest of the hill, and
was seen stretching at full gallop down the smooth declivity in the
direction of the lake. Not twenty paces in its rear followed a string
of howling animals, evid