44 BY ESKIMO DOG-SLED 



coating of ice that crackled and boomed as 

 the tides lifted it and left it. The sea had a 

 queer haze hanging over it ; it looked exactly 

 as if the water were getting ready to boil, 

 and the vapour was gently drifting with the 

 wind. &quot; Ah,&quot; said the people, &quot; the sea will 

 soon freeze ; it is smoking already. That is 

 always a sign that the ice will soon cover it.&quot; 



At last, one morning towards the end of 

 November, the sea was frozen : still grey ice 

 took the place of the tossing waves and the 

 rustling tides, and the silence of that grey sea 

 was painful. It was a relief to hear a dog 

 yelp, the whole world seemed so still. 



All the morning the new ice was deserted ; 

 there were children playing near the edge, but 

 they seemed afraid to venture far, and nobody 

 took any notice of them. It was not until 

 midday that the grown-ups began to take an 

 interest in things, and then I saw an old man 

 go hobbling over the beach with a stick. 

 With proper Eskimo dignity and deliberation 

 he inspected the ice and prodded it ; then 

 he walked upon it, at first feeling his way 

 cautiously, but soon more boldly, and came 

 back to say &quot; Piovok &quot; (it is good). He had 

 done his duty, which was to test the new ice, 

 for the people have great faith in their old 

 men as judges of ice and weather. As soon 



