LEARNING TO BUILD A SNOWHOUSE 151 



In general I think Ovayuak believed most of the things 

 I told him, but when I explained that the cold of Dakota, 

 where I was brought up, was about as intense as that of 

 the Mackenzie district, he could not reconcile it with 

 what he had always heard from the other white men of 

 how warm "San Francisco" was. I tried to explain that 

 the white man's country is large, with all sorts of climate, 

 and that if the whalers were not used to cold, this did 

 not apply to me. Eventually I argued him into allowing 

 me to go along, but I know he looked forward to a rather 

 worrisome time. 



He estimated the journey would take about ten or 

 twelve days. When I pointed out that it would not have 

 taken Roxy and me that long last fall but for our get- 

 ting lost, Ovayuak answered that the weather was now 

 much colder and that, while a sled slides over the snow 

 easily at such temperatures as we had in the fall, the 

 runners would now grate on the sharp snow crystals 

 almost as if we were dragging them over sand, and that 

 we could not expect in midwinter to make much more 

 than half the speed one could in the fall or spring. He 

 expected that both he and his wife would have to pull 

 in harness with the dogs and, while he did not expect 

 me to do that unless I felt like it, I must understand 

 that he could not allow me to ride. 



Although I was a little worried about the journey in 

 advance, partly from Ovayuak's talk and partly from the 

 dreadful stories I had read in books of arctic exploration 

 about the hardships of winter travel, I was still amused 

 at the idea that I might have to ride when we were 

 traveling at a speed no more than half of what we had 

 made in the fall. Ovayuak admitted having had a rather 

 favorable account of me as a traveler from Roxy, but he 



