Dog Sledging in the North 



that all the meat that we did not use of the 

 moose that we killed in this country was dis- 

 tributed among some Indians whom we met 

 on our return, and who, hearing of our luck, 

 followed our dog trail to the hunting grounds 

 after our departure. 



Having had enough moose hunting, and 

 anxious to kill caribou, we concluded to cross 

 Lake Winnipeg, which by this time — early 

 in December — was frozen hard with nearly six 

 feet of ice, the cracking of which, especially at 

 night, produces a very curious and never-to-be- 

 forgotten sound, which can be heard for miles. 

 We soon reached the lake, but were detained 

 a day or two waiting for a favorable day to 

 cross — that is to say, one when the wind did 

 not blow, as when it does the exposure in 

 crossing on the ice is terrific. After finally 

 venturing upon the ice, we made some forty or 

 fifty miles the first day, and reached the edge 

 of an island, in the middle of which there were 

 a few houses occupied principally by Icelandic 

 immigrants. These earn a precarious liveli- 

 hood by fishing for whitefish and jackfish prin- 

 cipally in the summer. They keep up this 

 fishing all through the winter, however, to 

 supply their own needs, by setting their nets 



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