Hunting Musk-Ox -with the Dog Ribs 



With the aid of the fort interpreter we dis- 

 cussed the matter until midnight. Johnnie 

 Cohoyla, a petty chief, was leader of the 

 party. He finally consented to "look after 

 me," which meant to look at me doing 

 my own work, and to cook for me if I 

 purchased meat for him and his family, 

 which became surprisingly large in a short 

 time. In return I agreed to pay two 

 " skins,'' or one dollar a day, and supply 

 tea for our party during the trip. 



We started late on the 5th for the Indian 

 camps at the edge of the timber. I was 

 not in a cheerful mood as I hitched in my 

 dogs for the long journey, which the Dog 

 Ribs emphatically declared would kill me, 

 as they, accustomed to such a life, "found 

 it hard." I would have to walk or run on 

 snow-shoes the entire distance, and not lie 

 in a portable bed or cariole, as do most 

 travellers in the interior of the Far North, 

 while some native driver attends to the 

 team. I would not hear an English word 

 for two months, and the antagonism of the 

 unwilling Indians must prove a source of 

 constant annoyance. 



My outfit consisted of a 45-90 Win- 

 chester and ammunition, fifteen pounds of 

 dried caribou meat, eighteen pounds of 

 frozen bread, several pounds of tea, and a 



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