2i8 ON SNOW-SHOES TO THE BARREN GROUNDS 



came from the fort and had buckles, which in the bitter 

 cold were unyielding, and by the time I had got all my 

 dogs loose, put on my lighter capote for I saw we were 

 in for a long run and strapped on my cartridge-belt, all 

 the Indians and all the dogs had several hundred yards' 

 start, and were going along at a rattling pace. I saw at 

 once that it was every man for himself on this expedition, 

 and if I got a musk-ox I should have to work for him. 

 And then I settled grimly to the business of running. 

 Within about two miles I had caught up with the Indians, 

 who had stretched out into a long column, with Seco and 

 Echeena leading by half a mile. In another mile I had 

 worked my way through the stragglers, and was hard on 

 the heels of Echeena, but Seco was still about two hun- 

 dred yards ahead, and going as though he could keep it 

 up indefinitely. On my attempt to pass him Echeena let 

 out a link, and I had all I could do to keep at his heels, 

 but in our race for second place we cut down Seco's lead 

 by a hundred yards. 



All this time we had been running over a succession of 

 sharp ridges, completely covered with all shapes and sizes 

 of rocks, and set in snow that was soft and about a foot 

 and a half deep. With tripping shoes we of course sank 

 in the snow at every step to within six inches of our 

 knees, while our shoes jammed in the rocks that lay close 

 together, or caught on those we attempted to clear in our 

 stride. It was a species of hurdle-racing, with the softest 

 of take-off and landing sides, and obstacles that were not 

 to be knocked over. It was going that would test the 

 bottom of the well-fed, best-conditioned athlete ; how it 

 wore on a half-starved man may be imagined. 



It seemed as though we should never view the musk- 

 oxen. Ridge after ridge we toiled over, and still that 

 little cloud of vapor appeared as far off as when first 



