102 HUNTING WITH THE ESKIMOS 



might be attacked by the bear, as they slept, placed 

 their rifles alongside their sleeping-bags with elabo- 

 rate preparation for defense. 



As for myself, the night's prospect was miserable, 

 my feet and hands were already numb with cold, and 

 my sleeping-bag, at best too small, now frozen hard 

 with moisture from my body, refused to admit me. 

 My tent, completely covered with a crust of frost, 

 was hardly more comfortable than the open. 



Under these conditions, I slept but little, and was 

 indeed thankful when morning came, and the Eski- 

 mos were astir. My thermometer was gauged to 

 register only -to fifty degrees below zero, and there 

 the marker stood. How much colder it was, I can- 

 not say. My nose and cheeks were frozen and my 

 feet so numb, Oxpuddyshou removed my boots and 

 thrust both feet under his birdskin shirt to warm 

 them with the heat of his body. 



We had crossed nearly the whole face of Humboldt 

 Glacier, and not far away lay Cape Webster. Dog 

 food was nearly exhausted, the ice beyond was piled 

 in a rough impassable mass, and it was decided to 

 turn back to Annootok. 



On our back trail the traveling was hard and slow. 

 The dogs were tired. I walked the greater part of 

 the time in a vain endeavor to keep my feet warm. 

 A light north wind cut through and through, and no 

 amount of physical exertion could overcome its effect. 



Near Cape Scott, two white foxes were startled 

 and darted away. A few ravens had been seen, but 

 not another living thing was encountered in the one 



