166 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES 



One day, as we voyaged eastward (July 23) in the 

 Tal-thel-lay narrows of Great Slave Lake, we met 5 

 canoes and 2 York boats of Indians going west. A 

 few hours afterward as we were nooning on an island 

 (we were driven to the islands now) there came a long 

 howling from the rugged main shore, a mile away to 

 the east of us; then it increased to a chorus of wailing, 

 and we knew that the Indians had that morning aban- 

 doned their dogs there. The wailing continued, then 

 we saw a tiny black speck coming from the far shore. 

 When it was half-way across the ice-cold bay we could 

 hear the gasps of a tired swimmer. He got along fairly, 

 dodging the cakes of ice, until within about 200 yards, 

 when his course was barred by a long, thin, drifting 

 floe. He tried to climb on it, but was too weak, then 

 he raised his voice in melancholy howls of despair. 

 I could not get to him, but he plucked up heart at 

 length, and feebly paddling went around till he found 

 an opening, swam through and came on, the slow- 

 est dog swimmer I ever saw. At last he struck bot- 

 tom and crawled out. But he was too weak and 

 ill to eat the meat that I had ready prepared for 

 him. We left him with food for many days and sailed 

 away. 



Another of the dogs that tried to follow him across 

 was lost in the ice; we heard his miserable wailing 

 moans as he was carried away, but could not help him. 

 My Indians thought nothing of it and were amused at 

 my solicitude. 



A couple of hours later we landed on the rugged east 

 coast to study our course through the ice. At once 



