36 My Dogs in the Northland 



Our sleds were all repacked, with some 

 of the heaviest bundles placed on those of 

 these Indians who had met us. My tired 

 dogs were unfastened from my cariole, and 

 in their place, was attached the train of 

 four fierce Eskimos. 



My own faithful, cautious guide, as he 

 carefully tucked the warm fur robes around 

 me in the cariole, handed me a heavy dog 

 whip and said that in all probability I 

 would have to use it, if those dogs found 

 out that they were dragging a white man. 

 This whip had a heavy oak handle, less 

 than two feet long, while the heavy, 

 well-shotted lash was over fifteen feet in 

 length. 



The sick man, the owner of these dogs, 

 as he straightened them out in the trail on 

 the ice with their faces towards home, said 

 to me: 



" Now do not speak a word and there will 

 be no trouble. They will run you to my 

 home in less than three hours. They will 

 keep on the trail we have made in coming 

 on the ice even if there has been but little 

 snow in which to mark it. They do not like 

 white people, but if you do not speak to 



