1916] TO KING CHRISTIAN ISLAND 231 



man back to his winter quarters discouraged, has turned 

 prospective victory into utter failure. How a dog suf- 

 fers! Restlessness is succeeded by whining, yelping, 

 bloodshot eyes, drooping lower jaw, stupidity. Every 

 dog within reach is attacked, and nearly every attack 

 is fatal within fifty days. Strange to say, the dog 

 craves the companionship of man, is very affectionate, 

 wants to be fondled, and seems more at ease when re- 

 ceiving attention. I have often seated myself beside a 

 dog fairly frightful to look upon. He is trembling with 

 the pain of a dozen wounds inflicted by his team-mates, 

 his eyes are wild and red, his lips frothy and bloody. 

 A gentle stroking of the head and the whining ceases, 

 the eyes close, the dog sleeps. Is there no help.'^ The 

 Eskimo points to See-oog-ly (Arcturus), sweeps his 

 arm half-way about the heavens, and declares, "He will 

 die when the star reaches that point." The white man 

 adds, "He will die now with the bullet, rather than 

 suffer for that length of time." 



The Flagler Pass was now before us, with its uncer- 

 tain conditions from year to year. In 1899 Sverdrup 

 found the valley bare of snow and rough with rocks, 

 which smashed and wore the sledges, necessitating un- 

 loading and packing everything to his farthest west. 

 This year we had had an unusual amount of snow, which 

 was encouraging for the crossing of Ellesmere Land. 

 In nine hours we reached the summit of the divide. 

 Nothing escaped the sharp eyes of my Eskimo boys — 

 there at the base of that boulder Doctor Cook left a 

 cache; here Whitney killed a musk-ox; around the 

 next turn thirty hare were seen feeding four years 

 ago — such were the comments as our sledges wound 

 their way steadily up and on through that magnificent 



