The Real Rudolph E-Book

Tilly Smith

• Herausgeber: The History Press
• Kategorie: Lebensstil
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2006

Beschreibung

Takes us on a factual journey into the life of the 'Real Rudolph'. This work reveals just what it is that makes the reindeer such a special member of the animal kingdom. It explains the facts and myths that surround the animals.

Leseprobe

The Real

RUDOLPH

A NATURAL HISTORY OF THE

REINDEER

TILLY SMITH

To My Dad

First published in 2006

The History Press The Mill, Brimscombe Port Stroud, Gloucestershire, GL5 2QGwww.thehistorypress.co.uk

This ebook edition first published in 2013

All rights reserved © Tilly Smith, 2006, 2013

The right of Tilly Smith to be identified as the Author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyrights, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

EPUB ISBN 978 0 7524 9592 7

Original typesetting by The History Press

Contents

Acknowledgements and Picture Credits

Preface: Love at First Sight

1

Who is Rudolph?

2

Rudolph’s Relations

3

The Reindeer Year

4

Hairy Bums, Flat Feet and Velvet Noses

5

Feast and Famine

6

The Early Taming of Reindeer

7

Farm Animal of the North

8

Reindeer Cultures

9

The World’s Tamest Reindeer

10

Exporting Reindeer to Other Lands

11

Scotland’s Reindeer Herd

12

Modern-day Lapland

13

From Lapland to Scotland

14

Scottish Reindeer Tales

15

The Story of Christmas

16

Rudolph’s Future

Appendix: Where to See Reindeer

Notes

Bibliography

Late summer in the Cairngorms, Scotland, and the reindeer calves are cooling off at a water hole.

Acknowledgements and Picture Credits

Writing The Real Rudolph would never have been possible if there were not people to help reduce the workload of my ‘day job’, reindeer herding and running the Reindeer Company. To this end, a heartfelt thank you to Alan and Catriona.

My first-hand experiences with reindeer have found me as far a field as Outer Mongolia and Arctic Sweden. Not being a seasoned traveller, visiting Outer Mongolia was always going to be a daunting affair. To this end Alex and Jess made fantastic travel companions and together we coped with everything Mongolian life threw at us. Our travels through Mongolia on horseback were made all the more enjoyable by our Mongolian guide Butsuuri, cook Merga and horseman Hunda.

On our various trips to Swedish Lapland Alan and I were guests of the Utsi brothers, Per Ola, Jussa and John Erling. Their hospitality was unsurpassed and our time there just made us want to return again and again.

The Real Rudolph has a feast of wonderful photos of reindeer and caribou from all over the world and to this end I am grateful to the following sources for permission to reproduce images from their collections: Mark Hicken, p. vi; Alex Smith, Sirkas Productions, pp. ix, 11, 14, 27, 36, 46, 69, 88, 90, 93, 94, 96, 125, 157, 159; Ruth Ives, p. 4; B. & C. Alexander, Arctic Photo, pp. 16–17, 18, 42, 47, 56–7, 62, 63, 72–3, 78, 80, 165; Laurie Campbell, p. 32; Niall Benvie, p. 35; Paul Hastings, p. 39; British Antarctic Survey, pp. 100–1; Alaska State Library, p. 106; Royal Navy Submarine Museum, p. 110; The Reindeer Company Ltd, pp. 114, 116–17, 118, 160; Heather Angel, p. 119; Richard Ansett, p. 144; Nigel Housden, p. 167.

All unattributed pictures are from the author’s collection. The author and publisher have made every effort to contact copyright owners, but in some cases this has not been possible; if such copyright holders contact the publisher we will be pleased to include a credit in future editions of the book.

Shekel, a Christmas reindeer from the Cairngorm reindeer herd, posing in the winter sun. ‘Rudolph’, the most famous reindeer of all, has been depicted in numerous ways but invariably nothing like the real thing.

Preface: Love at First Sight

My passion for natural history and in particular deer stems from my childhood as the daughter of the local doctor in a Hertfordshire village. My Dad was and still is a great enthusiast of the natural world and he passed his enthusiasm on to me while I was still very young. One of the ‘old school’, he was, however, most disappointed when I elected to read Zoology at university. His reaction to my decision was, to say the least, rather negative. I can remember his words to this day: ‘There are only three professions worth following, medicine, law and architecture.’ He did not regard zoology as a worthy topic to study.

All through my childhood we were immersed in the deer world. As a local expert on the small muntjac deer, my Dad was regularly brought dead or half-dead specimens that had been knocked down on the road, caught up in farm machinery or found and wrongly assumed to have been ‘abandoned’ by their mothers. Any we could we nursed back to health, bottle fed fawns, ate the casualties for supper and took part in live catching exercises with nets around the woods of Hertfordshire to satisfy my Dad’s desire to study them.

Despite my father’s negative attitude towards zoology, I was enough of a rebel to persist with it for my degree, and so in October 1978 I began a three-year honours degree at Bristol University. But as the final year came to a close I wondered what on earth I was going to do next. It looked as if my father’s dire remarks about useful degrees were coming true.

However, in my dim and distant past I remembered a rather eccentric lady coming to my Dad’s local Natural History Society Christmas meeting to talk about reindeer. As was the normal protocol, the guest speaker was invited to our house for supper prior to the meeting. As always, my Mum had put on a great spread for supper in the dining room where we normally entertained guests. It was a wild night, in the days when snow was not uncommon in Hertfordshire. But despite the weather conditions, the speaker Dr Ethel John Lindgren arrived very promptly. Dr Lindgren was an expert on reindeer. In 1952 she and her husband Mikel Utsi, a Swedish Sami, had successfully reintroduced reindeer to Scotland, and they devoted the latter half of their lives to ensuring the project was a success. Always one to make the most of the occasion, Dr Lindgren arrived extremely well dressed from top to toe, the crowning glory being, as I remember, a diamond tiara on her head. In contrast, we were by comparison in decidedly casual wear. On greeting Dr Lindgren, my Dad commented on the deteriorating weather conditions and expressed his hope that there would be plenty of people for the meeting. Dr Lindgren replied, ‘I do hope so, Doctor Dansie.’

Dr Lindgren obviously made a lasting impression on me and, although I could not remember a thing she had said about reindeer on the night, I decided in my last few months at university to write to her and offer my services as a volunteer to work with her herd of reindeer in Scotland. The subsequent interview at her house in Cambridge turned out to be more of an interrogation and she made the instant decision to offer me the job of Reindeer Keeper, although I don’t recall the mention of any wages. My impression was that there was a keeper up there already looking after the herd, but that he was no good and so I would probably end up caring for the reindeer myself. Whatever that meant.

So it was that in June 1981 I drove north for the first time to meet my destiny. Eidart was the first reindeer I set eyes on. A 6-year-old female reindeer, she was in the paddocks beside Reindeer House with her calf. My instant impression was one of size – Eidart seemed so small, and not what I imagined at all.

People often ask me how I came to the reindeer initially and my usual reply is ‘fate’. That summer of 1981 was without a doubt ‘meant to be’. Very soon after my arrival I fell in love with the reindeer, the mountains and the reindeer keeper – not necessarily in that order, of course. Nearly a quarter of a century on and the love affair is as strong as ever.

A reindeer calf from a Tsataan camp in Outer Mongolia makes friends with the author – ‘I felt sure my life with reindeer was “meant to be”’.

My experiences with reindeer have almost all been ‘hands on’. Through their life cycle, being with them for nearly twenty-five years, I have learnt about dietary requirements, handling and individual characters. Over the years I have dipped into various books about reindeer, their biology, physiology and veterinary aspects, always in connection with improving the daily management of the herd, but it was not until recently that I have had the time to research deeper into the world of reindeer. Raising two children, jointly running the Cairngorm reindeer herd, helping on our farm and keeping up with the many projects that my husband Alan has simultaneously on the go have hampered any opportunity to take my love of reindeer further than the bounds of our own herd.

Much of their physiology I already know, indeed I suspect sometimes I know better than the so-called experts! But their prehistory, their interaction with man and the extent to which man to this day still relies on reindeer has only now come to my attention, vastly broadening my depth of reindeer knowledge. No doubt reindeer in some manner or form will occupy the rest of my life, whether it be the daily care of our herd, encountering reindeer elsewhere around the globe or simply as part of my dreams. Reindeer will always hold a very special place in my heart. I hope I can impart some of my enthusiasm for them to my readers.

ONE

Who is Rudolph?

It is Christmas Eve and a party of people have joined me on the mountainside to visit part of the Cairngorm reindeer herd. With the group gathered round I extol the virtues of reindeer, explaining how they can survive in temperatures similar to a deep freeze and how their placid nature stems from thousands of years of domestication by man. While the group of reindeer patiently wait to be fed, I ask the visitors if anyone has any questions. Encouraged by his mother, a young lad pipes up, ‘Which one is Rudolph?’ ‘Well actually,’ I reply, ‘Rudolph’s not here today. He’s higher up in the mountains resting in preparation for the busy night ahead, but I have got some of his friends here instead.’ ‘Oh,’ he replies, a little disappointed by Rudolph’s absence. He perseveres though and, looking quizzically at the reindeer, asks, ‘How do they fly?’ With a suitably serious expression on my face, I reply, ‘Only Santa Claus knows the real answer to your question but I think it is something to do with the magic stardust that he sprinkles on the reindeers’ favourite food, lichen.’ Then, with the flying abilities of reindeer satisfactorily explained, I proceed with the rest of the visit.

A Visit from St Nicholas

Rudolph was not the first flying reindeer; indeed, he was not created until 1939. In fact the first reference to flying reindeer in modern times comes from a poem written by Clement C. Moore, a classical scholar and poet, who in 1822 wrote a poem about the night before Christmas for his children. An expert on folklore, in particular of the Dutch, German and Scandinavian immigrants who had settled in the United States, Moore blended aspects of St Nicholas, the patron saint of travel, children and sailors with the Dutch equivalent Sinterklaas, the pagan mid-winter festival concerned with appeasing the gods with feasts and festivities, and Norse mythology. From this concoction he wrote the following poem:

’Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse; The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, In hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds, While visions of sugarplums danced in their heads; And Mama in her kerchief and I in my cap, Had just settled down for a long winter’s nap,

When out on the lawn there rose such a clatter, I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter. Away to the window I flew like a flash, Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow, Gave a lustre of midday to objects below; When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer,

With a little old driver so lively and quick, I knew in a moment it must be St Nick. More rapid than eagles his coursers they came, And he whistled and shouted and called them by name –

‘Now, Dasher! Now, Dancer! Now, Prancer and Vixen! On, Comet! On, Cupid! On Donner and Blitzen! To the top of the porch, to the top of the wall! Now, dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!’

As dry leaves before the wild hurricanes fly, When they meet with an obstacle mount to the sky,So up to the housetop the coursers they flew, With a sleigh full of toys – and St Nicholas too;

And then in a twinkling, I heard on the roof The prancing and pawing of each little hoof. As I drew in my head and was turning around, Down the chimney St Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur from his head to his foot, And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot. A bundle of toys he had flung on his back, And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.

His eyes how they twinkled! His dimples how merry! His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry! His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow, And his beard on his chin was as white as the snow!

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth, And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath. He had a broad face and a little round belly That shook when he laughed like a bowl full of jelly.

He was chubby and plump – a right jolly old elf, And I laughed when I saw him in spite of myself. A wink of his eye and a twist of his head, Soon gave me the know I had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk, And laying his finger aside of his nose, And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, And away they flew like the down of a thistle. But I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight, ‘Merry Christmas to all and to all a Good Night!’

Clement C. Moore, 1822

So where did Clement Moore get the idea that St Nick may arrive on a sleigh pulled by ‘eight tiny reindeer’? In Norse mythology Odin, the warrior god of wisdom and war, rode a horse called Sleipner, a fine young stallion with eight legs born to Loki, the god of Hokey Pokey and one of the world’s major trickster gods. Perhaps the combination of this eight-legged beast, a large amount of magic and the ancient Finnish legend of ‘Old Man Winter’, who drove the reindeer down from the mountains into the lowlands with the coming of cold weather, had inspired Moore. Certainly Odin was a god who presided over those who deserved reward or punishment. Riding his fine beast and clad in a large cloak and wide-brimmed hat, he visited the Norse people dispensing punishments and rewards as appropriate.

Wherever Clement C. Moore gathered his ideas for the poem, it became an instant success across America and remains a popular children’s Christmas poem to this day, republished and recited in various forms. But in recent times the original eight reindeer – Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner and Blitzen – have been joined by another, perhaps the best known of all.

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer

Rudolph was created by the Montgomery Ward group of department stores in the United States. They commissioned author Robert L. May to come up with a Christmas story as a promotional gimmick for their customers in 1939. The story goes that May based his story ‘Rudolph the Red-Nosed Rein-deer’ on the Hans Christian Andersen fairy tale ‘The Ugly Duckling’. It was about a young reindeer who was very different to the rest of the herd because of his red nose. Indeed, in the original story Rudolph was not one of Santa’s reindeer and he lived in a reindeer village that was not necessarily at the North Pole. The story was created around the time of alcohol prohibition, when the subject of alcoholism and drunkards was taboo. A red nose was often a sign of drunkenness and the department-store managers were nervous that a reindeer with a red nose would be unsuitable for a Christmas tale. But their concerns were unfounded and in the very first year of publication Montgomery Ward handed out 2.5 million copies. During the Second World War printing was suspended for several years, but even so some 6 million copies had been distributed by 1946.

The Ninth Flying Reindeer

In 1949 a song about Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer was recorded by Gene Autry. It sold 2 million copies and has gone on to be one of the best-selling Christmas songs of all time. The lyrics were written by Johnny Marks and there were substantial differences from May’s original story. In the song Marks brought together the original eight reindeer from Clement Moore’s poem with Rudolph as their leader; his nose lit up the sky and guided them through the foggy night. Everyone in the Western world knows who Rudolph is on Christmas Eve when he helps Santa deliver the presents to all the children. But who is he, or she, for the rest of the year?

A Family of Deer

There are at least forty different species of deer spread across the world, occupying a vast range of ecological niches. The smallest member of the family is the Pudu, which frequents the forested slopes of the Andes, while the largest is the moose, which inhabits the forests and marsh lands of northern Europe, Siberia, Canada, Alaska and the state of Wyoming in the United States. Rudolph is to be found living to the south of Santa’s home at the North Pole, in the tundra, mountains and woodlands of the arctic and sub-arctic areas of the northern hemisphere. His scientific name is Rangifer tarandus and he is the only arctic species of deer. Famous for long migrations, large herd size, a predilection for lichen and as a food source for wolves and man, Rudolph is a deer whose range covers one-fifth of the earth’s surface and whose total world population is approximately 6 million. He goes by the name of reindeer in north Scandinavia and Russia, after the Lappish word ‘reino’, meaning reindeer calf, while in the North American arctic he is called caribou, a name derived from the Micmac Indian word meaning ‘digger of snow’. Across Russia and north Scandinavia the vast majority of reindeer are domesticated and underpin the lifestyle of the indigenous people of these areas. However, the caribou remain completely wild.

As a general rule, male and female reindeer and caribou are referred to as bulls and cows respectively and the young are called calves. This contrasts with other species of deer, for example fallow deer, which are normally called bucks, does and fawns, and red deer, which are generally called stags, hinds and calves.

Habits and Habitat

As a member of the deer family Cervidae, Rudolph shares many features common to other species within the family. They all belong to the sub-order Ruminantia and so all deer digest their food by a process of rumination or ‘chewing the cud’. This complicated process involves a combination of four separate stomach chambers between the oesophagus and the intestine and requires the services of millions of bacteria and hundreds of millions of protozoa.

During a feeding session a deer will crop as much vegetation as it needs, using its front incisors, and stores it partially chewed in the first and most capacious of the stomach chambers, the rumen. Once satisfied, he will then generally lie down to digest the food he has gathered. This part of the process involves small balls of food, or cud, being regurgitated, chewed properly using the molars and swallowed again. It then proceeds through the next three chambers, the reticulum, omasum and abomasum, and finally reaches the intestine. Throughout these phases bacteria break down the plant cellulose and starch by means of enzymes into soluble fatty acids. These bacteria are then consumed by the protozoa, which, besides digesting starch, convert plant protein into animal protein. In their turn the protozoa become available to the ruminant when they themselves are destroyed and digested further down the intestine. The whole process involves copious quantities of saliva, reproducing bacteria and protozoa and an extremely complicated stomach lining of mucous-secreting glands. During the process large quantities of methane and carbon dioxide are produced. Such activity occupies a substantial percentage of the body mass of a deer, and indeed the rumen and associated organs constitute 50 per cent of the live weight of the animal.

This type of digestion governs the daily behavioural pattern of deer. Throughout the daylight hours deer will alternate feeding with periods of resting and digesting. This can be an important survival strategy for a primary consumer that is vulnerable to predation while out feeding, but can hide itself away or gather as a group during the process of digestion. Rumination is also an extremely efficient way to digest food and extract all the goodness from a huge variety of vegetation. This has led to different members of the deer family being able to occupy a vast array of habitats, from the tundra of the frozen north to the profuse tropical rain-forests of the south.

According to the habitat they live in, different deer species vary in their habits from being basically solitary to highly gregarious. The smaller, more primitive deer, like the Pudu, tend to be solitary, only forming small family groups at certain times of year. Quite often there is bonding for life between male and female. At the other end of the evolutionary spectrum, deer species like reindeer or caribou tend to form large herds with the males claiming a harem of females during the breeding season. This polygamous reproductive strategy means there is no lasting contact between males and females after the rutting season. The reproductive success of a bull reindeer holding a harem of cows is enhanced by the attainment of a large body size, hence there is a marked size dichotomy between bulls and cows with breeding bulls being considerably bigger.