TRAILING OVER ICE AND SNOW 165 



Nov. 11, 1880 — Ten above zero, north wind. 



Nov. 13, 1880 — Ten below zero, waiting news of Caribou. 



Nov. 14, 1880 — Strong gale from west, and thawing all day, few 

 drops of rain — a wonderful occurrence. Next day four below zero. 



Nov. 19, 1880 — First real bitter weather this Fall. Twenty-nine 

 below zero. 



Visiting nets every second or third day. 



Dec. 13 — All nets lifted — no more fishing. Total catch, 12,181 fish. 



Trailing over Ice and Snow 



It was a starlit morning, about an hour from 

 daybreak, and cold as the very devil. I had got 

 my five dogs into their harness in the awkward, 

 persevering fashion of a man with numbed, half- 

 frozen hands working amongst frozen collars and 

 traces in the biting cold, while circulation is yet 

 asleep. And now my team whimpered to be 

 off on the trail, while they shivered and looked 

 miserably cowed with cold. 



But there was a hitch this morning, one sled 

 was not ready to start. Mistewgoso was groping 

 about the tree-bottoms and bushes of the forest, 

 trying to uncover a lost dog that was buried and 

 hidden in the snow and not inclined to turn out, 

 being, no doubt, overtired with the hard travelling 

 of the past few days and comfortable where he 

 was. The Indian had circled closely around camp 

 without success, then set out upon a wider circle, 

 and that unavailing he tried still another, calling 

 Natcheleaze — the dog's name — ingreatimpatience, 



