PUNTING ON THE ICE 



the team, just as dogs do, snapping and yelping and 

 whining and tugging to be on the move every time 

 the driver calls a halt. 



Whatever game it be, you may be sure that 

 they are playing it thoroughly, even though it be 

 only the mischievous game of walking in the water 

 and getting their boots wet. Mothers and fathers j 

 only wink at these water-pranks ; the boys are 

 growing strong and hardy, and that is a great thing 

 for a hunter ; and, after all, their mischief is never 

 malicious. 



Springtime provides the most exciting game of j 

 the whole year, when the ice breaks, and the tides I 

 that come oozing up the beach bring great pans and 

 little flat pieces floating shorewards. 



A floating piece of ice makes a splendid raft, to j 

 Eskimo ways of thinking, and I have seen crowds of 

 our Okak boys standing in ones and twos on these 

 very unstable punts, and moving along by paddling 

 with their hands in the water or prodding at the 

 bottom with poles. The favourite idea is to put a 

 boy on a big ice-pan and shove him away into deep 

 water, and then, after leaving him helpless for a suit- 

 able time, to scramble and pole along to rescue him. 

 Sometimes a dog is pressed into service to play this 

 Robinson Crusoe sort of role ; but the dog generally 

 considers itself in real danger, and does not wait for a 

 formal rescue ; on the contrary, it takes matters into 

 its own hands (or paws), and after a time of terrified 

 whining slips miserably into the water and swims 

 ashore. 



. I watched one bold spirit among the boys who 

 had found a long and narrow piece of ice that struck 

 him as a suitable kajak. He tried hard to stand on 



96 





