94 BY ESKIMO DOG-SLED 



weight of the sled drew it tight and dragged 

 him backwards. Poor dog ! he planted his 

 feet as firmly as he could on the frozen snow, 

 and did his best to withstand the strain ; 

 but the sled went calmly on, and Kollek 

 slithered frantically backwards. In a twinkling 

 he was plump up against the rock, and then 

 he could go no further. 



There was a twang as of a giant fiddle- 

 string when the trace broke, and Kollek 

 was free. The trace trailed limply behind, 

 while the dog scurried away to his place in the 

 team. 



There he trotted, with shoulders forward 

 and nose down, looking as if he were pulling 

 as hard as the best dog in the country, but, 

 sly old rascal, looking back every now and 

 again to see if Johannes was after him with 

 the whip. 



There seems always to be wind in the 

 mountains, and on one of those mornings, 

 after a cold night in a snow house, the wind 

 was much too strong for comfort, though the 

 men assured me that it was quite safe to travel. 

 But the mountain stream, which is the winter 

 road, was clear of snow, and the dogs could 

 not keep their feet upon it. Each puff of wind 

 sent them skidding about, howling with terror, 

 and the sure-footed little Johannes was kept 



