350 FOUR YEARS IN THE WHITE NORTH 



though, and it was six o'clock when finally we stopped 

 our sledges to start up the hill after the game; I was 

 so tired, and my legs ached so, that I promised myself 

 most fervently that if I ever got back to the land of 

 carriages, automobiles, and street-cars, I should never 

 again walk one step more than absolutely necessary. 



I did not believe that I should ever be able to get to 

 the top of the mountain where the musk-oxen were, for 

 they were at least two miles from our sledges, and the 

 mountain was about 2,000 feet high. To make matters 

 worse, the snow lay deep everywhere. We walked up 

 Indian file, E-took-a-shoo in the lead, Esayoo next, and 

 I last. We made a broad, deep trail. Even with the 

 trail broken, I found it hard to keep up with my men. 

 Just before coming up to the musk-oxen, I thought half 

 seriously, half humorously, "Lord, Thou hast done 

 well, but for the sake of my weary legs. Thou couldst 

 have done better." I had hardly given form to the 

 thought when Esayoo suggested that we go beyond the 

 herd before shooting, in the hope that the musk-oxen 

 might try to escape in the direction we had come and thus 

 get nearer our dogs. If we made our kill we should have to 

 go back after our dogs, lead them up the hill, and, after 

 feeding them, take them back again, an almost impossible 

 walk for my weary legs. 



We acted upon Esayoo's suggestion and stalked around 

 the herd before we began shooting. At the first volley 

 the musk-oxen broke their square and fled. To our 

 great joy, the whole herd started down our well-beaten 

 path. We could see only part of the way, because a 

 rise in the slope cut off our view, but as we followed after 

 them as fast as we could our elation increased as we went, 

 for they had gone right back on our track. Finally 



