12 
PROJECTED JOURNEY. 
aspired to, and cooked her a dead-puppy soup. She is 
now slowly gaining strength, but can barely stand. 
“I want all my scanty dog-force for another attempt 
to communicate with the bay settlements. I am con¬ 
fident we will find Esquimaux there alive, and they 
shall help us. I am not satisfied with Petersen, the 
companion of my last journey: he is too cautious for 
the emergency. The occasion is one that calls for 
every risk short of the final one that man can encoun¬ 
ter. My mind is made up, should wind and ice at all 
point to its successful accomplishment, to try the thing 
with Hans. Hans is completely subject to my will, 
careful and attached to me, and by temperament daring 
and adventurous. 
“ Counting my greatest possible number of dogs, we 
have but five at all to be depended on, and these far 
from being in condition for the journey. Toodla, 
Jenny,—at this moment officiating as wet-nurse,—and 
Rliina, are the relics of my South Greenland teams; 
little Whitey is the solitary Newfoundlander; one big 
yellow and one feeble little black, all that are left of 
the powerful recruits we obtained from our Esquimaux 
brethren. 
“ It is a fearful thing to attempt a dog-trot of near 
one hundred miles, where your dogs may drop at any 
moment, and leave you without protection from fifty 
degrees below zero. As to riding, I do not look to it: 
we must run alongside of the sledge, as we do on shorter 
journeys. Our dogs cannot carry more than our scanty 
provisions, our sleeping-bags and guns. 
