THE SPRING FLITTING 



sign of a journey, so I asked him to look out for me 

 in the morning. At three o'clock I was out on the 

 ice, and got a picture of Jakobus and his party start- 

 ing in the charming rose-pink light of the rising sun. 

 The fifteen-foot sledge was packed like a furniture 

 van, with wife and children to say nothing of 

 puppies on the top of the load ; great sides of dried 

 reindeer meat were tucked among the boxes and bags, 

 and the naked ribs of the new kajak topped the pile. 

 There was a suggestion of work ahead in that naked 

 framework, for it takes a deal of seal-hunting, and 

 much planning and sewing, to cover a kajak. Jako- 

 bus was in a great good -humour, and the weather 

 was the cause of it. " Ananaudlarme-e-ek " (splen- 

 did indeed), he said referring, I suppose, to the 

 "going," for the night air had frozen the sloppy 

 surface of yesterday into glassy hardness, and the 

 sledge would slip along with hardly a touch. " Get 

 there plenty quick," said Jakobus, with a gleeful 

 chuckle for his own sake ; and then " Nakomek 

 (how thankful); get there before the going is too 

 soft " and instinctively I thought of the dogs. It 

 was a happy day for them, poor brutes, to have an 

 easy run ; and I could not help contrasting it with 

 some of the spring journeys that I have had to make, 

 when the air was heavy and still, and the ice under 

 foot was soft and slushy, with a couple of feet of 

 melting snow upon it, and I have had to sit still 

 because it was impossible to walk or run, and when 

 the patient animals have plodded listlessly on, hour 

 after hour, lolling their tongues and panting and 

 perspiring under the warmth of the May sun 

 and the burden of their winter fur. I like to 

 remember that there are only a few Eskimos who 



