The fair-haired god of light reposes beneath the Southern Cross. His pathway is no longer above the silent hills; but his golden locks stream over the mountains, and day lingers as a lover departing from the abode of his mistress. The cold-faced regent of the darkness treads her majestic circle through the solemn night; and the soft-eyed stars pale at her approach. Her silver tresses sweep the sea, and the wild waves are stilled like a laughing face touched by the hand of death.
Although winter and darkness are slowly settling over us, yet we have still nine hours of twilight daily, wherein to perform our out-door duties. I have completed my arrangements for the health and comfort of my little household, and have perfected my system of domestic discipline and economy, and I feel sure that the wheels of the little world which revolves around this ice-locked schooner will now move on smoothly. This done, I am at liberty to seek greater freedom of action than I have hitherto enjoyed. I have desired to make some short journeys of exploration while the scrap of twilight yet remains to me, and as soon as the men were free I set them to work preparing some conveniences for camping out. I have been ready for several days, but the weather has been unfavorable for any thing more than a few hours' absence; and so our life runs on smoothly into the night.
MY DOG-TEAMS.
I had to-day a most exhilarating ride, and a very satisfactory day's work. I drove up the Fiord in the morning, and have returned only a short time since. This Fiord lies directly north of the harbor, and it forms the termination of Hartstene Bay. It is about six miles deep by from two to four wide. Jensen was my driver, and I have a superb turn-out,—twelve dogs and a fine sledge. The animals are in most excellent condition,—every one of them strong and healthy; and they are very fleet. They whirl my Greenland sledge over the ice with a celerity not calculated for weak nerves. I have actually ridden behind them over six measured miles in twenty-eight minutes; and, without stopping to blow the team, have returned over the track in thirty-three. Sonntag and I had a race, and I beat him by four minutes. I should like to have some of my friends of Saratoga and Point Breeze up here, to show them a new style of speeding animals. Our racers do not require any blanketing after the heats, nor sponging either. We harness them each with a single trace, and these traces are of a length to suit the fancy of the driver—the longer the better, for they are then not so easily tangled, the draft of the outside dogs is more direct, and, if the team comes upon thin ice, and breaks through, your chances of escape from immersion are in proportion to their distance from you. The traces are all of the same length, and hence the dogs run side by side, and, when properly harnessed, their heads are in a line. My traces are so measured that the shoulders of the dogs are just twenty feet from the forward part of the runners.
The team is guided solely by the whip and voice. The strongest dogs are placed on the outside, and the whole team is swayed to right and left according as the whip falls on the snow to the one side or the other, or as it touches the leading dogs, as it is sure to do if they do not obey the gentle hint with sufficient alacrity. The voice aids the whip, but in all emergencies the whip is the only real reliance. Your control over the team is exactly in proportion to your skill in the use of it. The lash is about four feet longer than the traces, and is tipped with a "cracker" of hard sinew, with which a skilful driver can draw blood if so inclined; and he can touch either one of his animals on any particular spot that may suit his purpose. Jensen had to-day a young refractory dog in the team, and, having had his patience quite exhausted, he resolved upon extreme measures. "You see dat beast?" said he. "I takes a piece out of his ear;"—and sure enough, crack went the whip, the hard sinew wound round the tip of the ear and snipped it off as nicely as with a knife.
This long lash, which is but a thin tapering strip of raw seal-hide, is swung with a whip-stock only two and a half feet long. It is very light and is consequently hard to handle. The peculiar turn of the wrist necessary to get it rolled out to its destination is a most difficult undertaking. It requires long and patient practice. I have persevered, and my perseverance has been rewarded; and if I am obliged to turn driver on emergency, I feel equal to the task; but I fervently hope that the emergency may not arise which requires me to exhibit my skill.
It is the very hardest kind of hard work. That merciless lash must be going continually; and it must be merciless or it is of no avail. The dogs are quick to detect the least weakness of the driver, and measure him on the instant. If not thoroughly convinced that the soundness of their skins is quite at his mercy, they go where they please. If they see a fox crossing the ice, or come upon a bear track, or "wind" a seal, or sight a bird, away they dash over snow-drifts and hummocks, pricking up their short ears and curling up their long bushy tails for a wild, wolfish race after the game. If the whip-lash goes out with a fierce snap, the ears and the tails drop, and they go on about their proper business; but woe be unto you if they get the control. I have seen my own driver only to-day sorely put to his metal, and not until he had brought a yell of pain from almost every dog in the team did he conquer their obstinacy. They were running after a fox, and were taking us toward what appeared to be unsafe ice. The wind was blowing hard, and the lash was sometimes driven back into the driver's face,—hence the difficulty. The whip, however, finally brought them to reason, and in full view of the game, and within a few yards of the treacherous ice, they came first down into a limping trot and then stopped, most unwillingly. Of course this made them very cross, and a general fight—fierce and angry—now followed, which was not quieted until the driver had sailed in among them and knocked them to right and left with his hard hickory whip-stock. I have had an adventure with the same team, and know to my cost what an unruly set they are, and how hard it is to get the mastery of them; but once mastered, like a spirited horse, they are obedient enough; but also, like that noble animal, they require now and then to have a very positive reminder as to whom the obedience is owing.
AN ARCTIC TEAM.
(FROM A SKETCH BY DR. HAYES.)