90 FOUR YEARS IN THE WHITE NORTH [May 



forth the same reply from E-took-a-shoo — "Impos- 

 sible!" Our food was nearly gone; our dogs had not 

 been fed for two days; if there was the slightest chance 

 of our making the dugout ten miles to the south, we 

 would try it. For hours and hours we lay listening to 

 that distant roar of wind and driving snow until I could 

 stand it no longer. 



"Let's try it," I suggested to E-took-a-shoo, who 

 grinned and replied: 



"Yes, let's try it." 



As we lashed down the clothes- and komatik-bags to 

 the sledge, the dogs, like white mounds in the drift, 

 arose, shook off their snowy covering, blinked through 

 eyes half filled with snow, as if to say, "Wliere do you 

 think you are going now?" 



Out of clefts, gullies, and valleys the wind dropped 

 down upon us with the force of an avalanche. The 

 flying snow eddied and whirled and wrapped us in a 

 white mantle, until dogs and men seemed as white 

 specters. Within five miles of our dugout the wind 

 suddenly changed; now it was at our backs, blowing 

 us along at a rattling pace around the point and down 

 the straight shore. As we stopped to untangle traces 

 a white wolf came bounding up to within twenty yards. 

 My king dog was nearly frantic with excitement. With 

 a leap he snapped the trace. I had read of these power- 

 ful wolves tearing Eskimo dogs to pieces, and for the 

 moment I had fears for the safety of my best dog. 

 They were groundless. The wolf was terrified and took 

 to his heels. Within a few minutes the dog had over- 

 taken him, took one smell, dropped his tail between 

 his legs, and came trotting slowly back, wearing a most 

 shamefaced expression. "To think that a dog of my 



