THE SPRING AND SUMMER OE 1S94 481 



There is the same daily routine for the dogs as in the 

 winter. We let them loose in the morning about half- 

 past eight, and as the time for their release draws near 

 they begin to get very impatient. Every time any one 

 shows himself on deck a wild chorus of howls issues from 

 twenty-six throats, clamoring for food and freedom. 



After being let loose they get their breakfast, consist- 

 ing of half a dried fish or three biscuits apiece. The rest 

 of the forenoon is spent in rooting round among all the 

 refuse heaps they can find ; and they gnaw and lick all 

 the empty tin cases which they have ransacked hundreds 

 of times before. If the cook sends a fresh tin dancino- 

 along the ice a battle immediately rages around the prize. 

 It often happens that one or another of them, trying to 

 get at a tempting piece of fat at the bottom of a deep, 

 narrow tin, sticks his head so far down into it that the tin 

 sits fast, and he cannot release himself again ; so with this 

 extinguisher on his head he sprawls about blindly over 

 the ice, indulging in the most wonderful antics in the 

 effort to get rid of it, to the great amusement of us the 

 spectators. When tired of their work at the rubbish 

 heaps they stretch out their round, sausage-like bodies, 

 panting in the sun, if there is any, and if it is too warm 

 they get into the shade. They are tied up again before 

 dinner; but "Pan," and others like-minded, sneak away 

 a little before that time, and hide up behind a hummock, 

 so that one can only see a head or an ear sticking up 

 here and there. Should any one go to fetch him in he 

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