i 7 8 HUNTERS OF THE GREAT NORTH 



that, as I had provided none for my dog, naturally they 

 had stopped feeding him before they stopped feeding 

 their own. 



This meeting took place at an Eskimo camp. I un- 

 hitched The Owl from the widow's sled and took off his 

 harness, which was made of braided hemp. I then went 

 into the Eskimo house to ask for a fish to give to the dog. 

 I was handed the fish at once, but when I got out with 

 it I saw the last of the hempen harness disappearing 

 down the dog's throat. He had been ravenously hungry, 

 and some grease at some time or other had been spilled 

 on the harness. This made it smell to him like food and 

 he had eaten it. I knew his death was bound to follow 

 unless I could make him throw it up. We poured a pint 

 or more of seal oil down his throat, hoping to induce him 

 to vomit. He threw up the oil sure enough, but the har- 

 ness stuck in his stomach. Two days later he was suf- 

 fering such agony that he had to be shot. 



This was to me a tragic experience both because I had 

 been fond of the dog and because I was getting fond of 

 the Eskimos as a people and did not like to find such 

 disagreeable characteristics cropping out. I must say 

 before leaving this subject that, although both the woman 

 and Roxy were justified by a theory which the Eskimos 

 well understood, in starving my dogs when they fed their 

 own, the rest of the people disapproved of them for doing 

 such things and both of them were thought less of by their 

 countrymen after than before. 



After The Owl's death I had one fairly good dog left 

 and Cape York owned a willing enough dog, but tiny. 

 It was the intention that Cape York should return to 

 Herschel Island after delivering me at Flaxman, and so 

 we tried to borrow several other dogs for the trip. I 



