A BEAR HUNT 103 



hundred and fifty miles traversed in search of bear. 

 The whole world seemed frozen and dead, save only 

 our own struggling selves, as we toiled southward 

 over the white wastes. 



Below Cape Scott, Kulutinguah joined us. His 

 hunt had been rewarded with one small bear and one 

 deer, and he was ready to go back. Here another 

 miserable camp was made, followed by another day 

 of suffering. As I walked my nose was again 

 frozen, and presently the tips of the fingers on both 

 hands turned white. Then my feet, painful and 

 aching with the cold, suddenly lost all feeling, and 

 I knew that they, too, had frozen. But there was 

 nothing to do but push on, and endeavor to reach 

 Annootok as quickly as possible. 



When we camped at the end of that day's march, 

 the Eskimos pulled off my boots to find the bottoms 

 and heels of both feet frozen, how badly they could 

 not tell. They thrust them under their shirts and 

 rubbed them briskly until the frost was removed. 

 Then I drew on my socks, and they instructed me to 

 pull on my boots without a moment's delay, for had 

 I left them off for even a little while my feet would 

 have swelled to such an extent that I could not have 

 got the boots on again. 



The hardest part of winter traveling in the Arctic 

 is the fact that no artificial heat can be had in camp 

 to overcome the intense and continuous cold. 



When the march was begun in the morning, my 

 feet were so sore that I could walk but little, and I 

 had to forego, therefore, the exercise of running, 



