Hunting Musk-Ox with the Dog Ribs 



On the last two days before reaching 

 the camps the heavy snow-shoes caused the 

 mal de raquette to reappear, which made 

 it simply torture to move ; yet we were 

 now in the woods, where the soft snow 

 required heavier work in the management 

 of the sleds. 



At two in the afternoon of the twenty- 

 ninth day we reached the vicinity of the 

 camping-place from which we had started, 

 and fired several rounds to announce our 

 arrival. A few minutes later we dashed 

 into — a deserted camp. The lodges were 

 gone, the snow had drifted over their sites. 

 Their skeleton poles offered a dreary wel- 

 come to us, as, tired, hungry, and disap- 

 pointed, we turned away in no pleasant 

 humor to follow the track along which a 

 line of slanting poles indicated the direc- 

 tion of departure. We were upon an old, 

 hard track from which the sled frequently 

 overturned into the soft snow on either 

 side, and my dogs were about giving up 

 altogether. A great deal more powder 

 was burned as we approached the camps 

 three hours later. As I passed one of the 

 first lodges, my sled swayed off the track, 

 and caught against a tree, much to the 

 amusement of a couple of young women, 

 who, after watching my attempts to right 



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