102 My Dogs in the Northland 



swered in that land where the bitter cold 

 demands so much internal fuel, by, " Let us 

 have something to eat." 



So we opened a pemmican bag, and in the 

 mouth of it we chopped into eatable pieces, 

 some of the hard and tasteless, but exceed- 

 ingly nutritious, food. We would have 

 much enjoyed a few good cups of tea, with 

 the hard dry stuff, but that was out of the 

 question in such a place. We ate our meal 

 as well as we could, liberally sharing the 

 tough, hard food with our dogs, that had 

 cuddled as close to us as their harness would 

 allow. Jack, as usual, had the place nearest 

 to me. This was his habit whenever it was 

 possible. Not that he always expected to 

 be fed, for as a general thing the dogs were 

 given only one meal a day, and that one was 

 at the night camp, when the day's work was 

 done. However, to-day was an exception. 

 The fact was it looked as if we had seen our 

 last winter camp, and the blizzard storm 

 would soon claim us as its victims. So we 

 said, " We will share our pemmican with 

 our splendid dogs, for poor indeed is the 

 prospect for either their or our having an- 

 other meal." 



As Jack and I took alternate bites at the 



