THE LEAF RIVER CARIBOU HERD
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Northern Quebec is home to two of the most
prolific caribou herds in the world. Although the
massive herds of western North America seem to
get all of the attention, the George River Herd
and the Leaf River Herd of northern Quebec both
number over 700,000 individuals. The dynamics
of these large ungulates has mystified natives
who have depended on them as a food source
for thousands of years. More recently, scientists
have been baffled by the size and health of the
herds.
Although the exact migration trails each year, our
route was selected to maximize the chance of
encountering caribou as they began their
southerly migration. At the start of the expedition
we came across thousand of trails and carcasses
left behind from when the herd migrated north to
the calving ground in the spring. Around Lake
Minto we encountered the most antlers. This was
an indication that the herds passed through this
area in the fall when they would be loosing their
antlers. As we worked our way towards the
Payne River watershed we entered the caribou’s
summer range. Trails became more numerous,
fresh prints and feces were found, and clumps of
fur were frequently found on the tundra.
On the morning of the 19th I woke up, left the tent, and was greeted
by several caribou walking by. For the next two hours we watched
hundreds of the deer wander within ten to one hundred yards of
our camp. At times individuals and small groups could be seen all
over the horizon. We were lucky enough to be downwind of the
caribou and it was possible to hide and get very close to some of
the animals. After this day we saw at least some caribou each day.
The next large group we encountered was swimming across the
lower Payne River.
A caribou has hollow hairs that provide excellent insulation in the
winter and buoyancy for swimming. Caribou are quite comfortable
in the water and we encountered many of them swimming lakes and
streams. The animals seem very driven to continually move to
some destination and they often do not stop because you happen
to be canoeing in the area. It was not uncommon to have large
bulls or mothers with their young enter the water and swim very
close to our boat.
During the early nineteen hundreds the caribou herds were
dwindling and had been reduced to small isolated groups of several
thousand animals. Native’s prayed to the Caribou spirit as they
starved and the future of these long distance travelers looked
grim. The cause of the decline remains a mystery, but surprisingly,
over hunting was not a major contributing factor. The native
populations of northern Quebec had largely avoided contact with
the outside world at this time and there are no reports of them
abusing this vital resource that was at the center of many of their
beliefs and ceremonies.
The caribou population continued to shrink until in the early
1950s as few as 15,000 individuals inhabited an area in
northeaster Quebec that the Inuit traditionally knew as the “home
of the caribou”. What had once been the world’s largest caribou
herd had crashed to disastrously low levels with no reasonable
explanation at hand. Luckily fortunes changed.
By the late fifties the herd was increasing in size and a period of
exponential growth began. The herd rapidly expanded and
reached out to reinhabit all of its previous range and beyond. It
was at this time that the Leaf River Herd became separate from
the George River herd. Prior to the nineteen sixties the majority
of caribou in Quebec migrated to the windy and bug free foothills
of Quebec and Labrador’s Torngat Mountains to calve.
However, during this time of expansion, a large group of caribou
began to migrate directly north from the wintering grounds to a
new calving area in the center of the Ungava Peninsula. This
separate group has become known as the Leaf River Herd.
The Leaf River Herd itself grew to an estimated 1,000,000 head,
with its population peaking in the mid nineteen nineties. At the
same time the George River herd began to decline again. The
past hundred years have shown that the population
characteristics of these herds is quite dynamic and follows a
cycle as mysterious as the changing migration routes that the
animals use from one year to the next.
As more studies are conducted it becomes apparent that caribou populations, more than those of any other type of deer, experience dramatic
swings in size. Past observations have shown these cycles to have somewhat predictable periods of about 60 to 120 years. Reasons for the
sharp declines include overgrazing and the trampling of the delicate lichens that grow in the calving grounds, increased energy expenditure in
due to expansion of the herd’s range, and even particularly harsh weather events. Although scientific studies have sought to seek a technical
explanation for lives of these animals, perhaps the ancient Inuit saying “No one knows the way of the wind and the caribou” still holds true. The
mysterious nature of the caribou with their shifting migration routes and uncanny ability to travel thousands of miles each year adds to the allure
and excitement of seeing these humble beasts.
Two young caribou being very surprised as I pop up from a hiding spot to take a picture.
A few individuals running away from us when they picked up our scent on the morning
of July 19th.
With the wind working to out advantage it was possible to have some close encounters.
Seeing caribou on the ridges lining the lakes and rivers of
Ungava is a common site when the animals are in the area.
Part of a large herd that swam across the lower Payne River directly in front of our canoe.
This group seemed to appear out of thin air.
A large bull walks through our camp.
The bulls tended to be a little more wary of our presence, but for the most part the herd
ignored us.
A solitary bull swims in front of our canoe. The deer was able to swim as fast as
we could paddle.
A young female and her calf swam surprisingly close to our canoe. We were
constantly surprised by the willingness of the caribou to enter the water with us
around.