182 HUNTING WITH THE ESKIMOS 



The moon had gone, and it was very dark. As I 

 made tea I recall that I drew some comfort from the 

 fact that very soon the good old daylight would 

 come again to cheer our hearts, for already we were 

 favored with nearly three hours of dim twilight. 



In a little while the Eskimos returned to report that 

 from the little they could see, there appeared to be 

 good ice to the southward. Some biscuits were 

 washed down with hot tea, and we resumed our 

 march. 



Two miles on the rough ice foot, and we descended 

 again to the Sound to find the ice smooth and fine, 

 covered with hard-packed drift. Presently two of 

 Oxpuddyshou's dogs lay down, utterly exhausted. 

 He beat them nearly to death with the handle of his 

 whip, but it was no use. They howled lustily, but 

 would not walk another step. Then the komatiks 

 were unloaded, and to my great joy I learned that an 

 igloo was to be built and we should rest. 



I set my watch by guess, for I had lost all record 

 of days and time and everything, and when the igloo 

 was ready crawled into my sleeping-bag for twelve 

 and a half hours of dreamless slumber. 



A strong northerly wind was blowing when we 

 arose, and the weather was intensely cold. The 

 Eskimos breakfasted on frozen walrus meat, chipped 

 off with hatchets, while I heated a can of baked beans 

 for myself. This over, the loads were again lashed 

 into place, and just as dawn was breaking we were 

 moving again. 



One of Oxpuddyshou's dogs, too weak to stand, 



