142 BY ESKIMO DOG-SLED 



sea was frozen, and the seal hunt was over 

 for the season. The seals were away to their 

 winter haunts at the edge of the ocean ice ; 

 winter had begun and the nets were frozen 

 in. It happens the same way every year : the 

 people want to make the most of their oppor- 

 tunity, and they cannot tell exactly when the 

 sea will freeze, so they leave the nets in the 

 water a day too long rather than have them 

 up a day too soon ; and every year they have 

 the awkward job of hacking them out. They 

 waste no time in getting their axes to work, 

 for every minute the ice is getting thicker. 

 As soon as ever they see that the ice has 

 covered their bay, they trot down to the beach 

 and begin one of the coldest pieces of work 

 that it is possible to imagine. They only need 

 to free the ropes where they dip below the 

 surface, for the net is at the sea bottom, and 

 once freed with the axes there is nothing to 

 do but haul. But the hauling ! In my eager- 

 ness I lent a hand at the rope, but my fingers 

 stiffened round it, and I suffered all the agony 

 of gripping a red-hot poker. My poor hands 

 ached for hours. And the Eskimos tugged at 

 the rope, and gathered up the meshes all 

 stiffening in the wind and dripping with 

 icicles, and piled the net on the rocks above 

 high-water mark, and rubbed their hands 

 indifferently, and ambled off to get their sleds. 



