The Hungry Fox

We awoke to another crisp, sunny morning at Dymond Lake Lodge and another dazzling display of thick hoar frost on the bushes and trees. The morning's walk reflected the stillness of the air until, as we trudged a little dejectedly back to the lodge, someone spotted a tiny dot moving in the distance. We stopped to watch the Arctic Fox who, in turn, gave us a wide berth as it passed before disappearing around the headland. Although it had been a long way off, we were still excited about seeing the timid creature.



But when we rounded the headland, we saw the fox again. It had found the leg of a Caribou, probably killed by a bigger predator, and was have a good gnaw on the big bone. The pretty little fellow seemed oblivious of us, stood only five metres away, as he treated us to some fabulous photo opportunities, his pristine white fur gleaming in the winter sunshine. We stood and watched for over 30 minutes, the silence of the chilly air punctuated by the sound of clicking cameras. His tolerance was probably explained by hunger as the meat he was eating was pretty rancid. As Nolan, one of our group, found out when he picked up the bone after the fox had left - he couldn't get the rotten smell off of his gloves for days.

Coincidentally, our lunch that day was Caribou Goulash, and after our long hike in the cold, we were probably as hungry as the fox and would have eaten anything. Well, anything that wasn't rancid. But, like all the meals at Dymond Lake, it was absolutely delicious.