With a piece of bark,
rolled up in the form of a short-ear trumpet, they mimicked the
hideous voice of the moose, and the not less disagreeable lowing of
the cariboo. The martin started in surprise at his affrighted
neighbour on the water, and the fox no doubt crept from his hole to
listen to the voice that called him to plunder, at this dangerous
hour. All these sounds are signals among the Indians, and are carried
to a perfection that deceives the ear of nature itself. I had read of
their great power in this species of ventriloquism, but never had
heard it practised before, with the exception of the imitation of the
deer tribe, which is well-known to white "still-hunters."
They are, in their own country, not very communicative to strangers;
and above all, never disclose practices so peculiarly reserved for
their own service or defence. I was amazed at their skill in this
branch of Indian accomplishment.
But the notes of the dear little chick-a-dee-dee charmed me the most.
The stillness of this wild, sequestered place was most agreeably
diversified by all these fictitious birds and beasts, that seemed
inviting, each his own kind, to come and look at this lovely scene.
From the wonderful control they appeared to have over their voices, I
knew that one or both of them must sing. I therefore asked them if
they knew the Canadian-boat song; and they answered, with great
delight, that they did.
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