Mr. Peary laid our course down the center of the gulf, and we were beginning to calculate the time when we should reach Redcliffe, when suddenly we encountered deep, soft snow, through which the dogs could not pull the loaded sledge with any of us seated upon it. There was nothing left for us but to get off and walk, or rather wade through the snow. After a few hours of this tiring work the dogs refused to go farther, and it was only with special coaxing and driving that any progress was made. When at last we reached Herbert Island we were almost as glad as the dogs to be able to rest. Redcliffe was still fifteen miles distant.
Mr. Peary and I spread our sleeping-bags down on the snow out in the brilliant sunshine, and lay down on them for a nap. We had not been asleep long when I awoke and found that Mr. Peary had arisen and was walking rapidly in the direction of the ice-foot. He was following an Eskimo who had shouldered a rifle, and my first impression was that the native had taken one of our own rifles from the sledge and was making off with it.
AN APRIL JOURNEY.
At Kyo’s call the retreating figure stopped short and turned back. He came directly to us, and we recognized him as Tahtara, the man at whose snow-igloo I had spent such a memorable night. He had been at Redcliffe, and was now out on a seal-hunt, with a companion, named Kulutingwah, who presently came dashing round with two fine-looking dogs and one of our sledges.
These dogs were the most affectionate Eskimo dogs we had yet seen, and by far the prettiest. They were large, powerful-looking animals, that dragged the sledge with three natives upon it through the soft snow as easily as if they had no load at all. They were the first dogs we had seen who were trained to obey their master’s words without the aid of the whip. When Kulutingwah left his sledge-team he did not have to turn the sledge over and stick the upstanders into the snow to keep the dogs from running away, but simply told them to stay there, and with a low, deep growl they would stretch themselves upon the snow and remain perfectly quiet until his return, in spite of the tempting pieces of seal meat which might be lying around in their vicinity.
After restowing our sledges we started homeward. Our dogs, like horses at home, seemed to smell the stable, and broke into a brisk trot, which they kept up until we reached Redcliffe, at nine in the evening, Sunday, April 24.
Dr. Cook, who had been left in charge, had done good work during our absence of a week. Quite a number of natives from Netchiolumy, Keati, and the snow village had arrived, and among them an unusual number of lady visitors, all willing to sew for the “Americans” for the small consideration of a couple of needles. The doctor had set them to work on kamiks, fur mittens, fur stockings, and fur trousers, and they had worked like beavers all the week, while the men had put in their time hunting, and a goodly number of seals were added to the store of dog-meat.
Musical Dogs.