THE ESQUIMAUX SLEDGE DOG. 79: 
to-night, say the tourist and his companion, pressing together, 
borne on the trail of the bewildered pack. 
Lord take pity on us, take pity on two noble creatures made in 
thine own image 1 Come then, cease trembling, feeble humans that 
you are, and do not invoke the divine intervention for so small an 
affair as your existence. This God whom you so piously invoke in 
your extreme peril, may be elsewhere occupied, and may not hear 
you ; and besides His infinite foresight having given you the dog, 
what more do you want ? You see well, indeed, that there is a 
dog that watches over your days. He is the chief of the pack, 
he is the biggest, the strongest, the most respected of the band. 
As soon as he has answered for you,- you may be easy, you shall 
rest this night under the sleeping hut. 
If the chief of the pack has not thrown himself from the first 
across the cursed scent ; if he has not threatened, as a man would 
have done, to strangle the first of his soldiers who should trans- 
gress his orders, it is because he knows perfectly well that threats 
or caresses, oaths or prayers would be lost at such a conjuncture, 
and that he must take the part of youthful fire, and respect the 
legitimacy of passion, even in its most disordered freaks. 
The wise dog understands that this passion must be directed to 
good purposes, and not compressed, and he acts consistently. In 
place of imposing silence on the pack, he howls louder than any of 
them. It rushes on the scent. He questions the air, he asserts in full 
voice that he has seen the animal bodily. We know the respect of 
dogs for the opinion of their superiors. Every one believes him 
on his word, and the pack straightens out like a single dog, open- 
ing furiously on the imaginary beast. They take the diagonal to 
cut the distance shorter. Five, ten minutes pass, during which 
the tumultuous pack has annihilated space, thinking they see, but 
seeing only with the eyes of their chief. They ask to breathe a 
few seconds before rising the hill to which the chase has led. (As 
a general rule these sights of the game always lead to the base 
of a rising ground.) Very lively opposition on the part of the 
chief, who objects that if the least time is lost the game will gain 
the start and clear itself of pursuit. Courage, friends, one last 
pull on the traces. And joining acts with words, he bears for- 
