THE DOGS OF FORT RESOLUTION 167 



we were met by four dogs that trotted along the shore 

 to where we landed. They did not seem very gaunt; 

 one, an old yellow female, carried something in her 

 mouth; this she never laid down, and growled savagely 

 when any of the others came near. It proved to be 

 the blood-stained leg of a new-killed dog, yellow like 

 herself. 



As we pulled out a big black-and-white fellow looked 

 at us wistfully from a rocky ledge; memories of Bingo, 

 whom he resembled not a little, touched me. I threw 

 him a large piece of dried meat. He ate it, but not 

 ravenously. He seemed in need, not of food, but of 

 company. 



A few miles farther on we again landed to study the 

 lake; as we came near we saw the dogs, not four but 

 six, now racing to meet us. I said to Preble : "It seems 

 to me it would be the part of mercy to shoot them all." 

 He answered: "They are worth nothing now, but you 

 shoot one and its value would at once jump up to one 

 hundred dollars. Every one knows everything that is 

 done in this country. You would have six hundred 

 dollars' damages to pay when you got back to Fort 

 Resolution." 



I got out our stock of fresh fish. The Indians, seeing 

 my purpose, said: "Throw it in the water and see them 

 dive." I did so and found that they would dive into 

 several feet of water and bring up the fish without fail. 

 The yellow female was not here, so I suppose she had 

 stayed to finish her bone. 



When we came away, heading for the open lake, the 

 dogs followed us as far as they could, then gathering 



