THE DOGS OF FORT RESOLUTION 163 



I threw the prize, but, famished though they were, 

 they turned away as a man might turn from a roasted 

 human hand. One miserable creature, a mere skele- 

 ton, sneaked forward when the stronger ones were 

 gone, pulled out the entrails at last, and devoured them 

 as though he hated them. 



I can offer no explanation. But the Hudson's Bay 

 men tell me it is always so, and I am afraid the re- 

 membrance of the reception accorded my bounty that 

 day hardened my heart somewhat in the days that fol- 

 lowed. 



On the Nyarling we were too far from mankind to 

 be bothered with dogs, but at Fort Resolution we re- 

 entered their country. The following from my journal 

 records the impression after our enforced three days' 

 stay: 



"Tuesday, July 16, 1907. Fine day for the first time 

 since July 3. At last we pulled out of Fort Resolution 

 (9.40 A. M.). I never was so thankful to leave a place 

 where every one was kind. I think the maddest 

 cynophile would find a cure here. It is the worst 

 dog-cursed spot I ever saw; not a square yard but is 

 polluted by them; no article can be left on the ground 

 but will be carried off, torn up, or defiled; the four 

 corners of our tent have become regular stopping 

 places for the countless canines, and are disfigured 

 and made abominable, so that after our escape there 

 will be needed many days of kindly rain for their 

 purification. 



"There certainly are several hundred dogs in the vil- 

 lage; there are about 50 teepees and houses with 5 to 15 



