Sledge equipment.
When fitting up your sledge equipment procure some large-sized marrow bones, and saw them up into a number of tolerably stout rings; then, from other bones of solid texture, make toggles to accompany the rings. These contrivances, shown in the above illustration, are invaluable for attaching leather straps to each other. A simple slit in the end of each strap admits of the toggle being passed through them, when its notched form prevents it from coming out again. Knots in dog harness tend to endless hitches and entanglements; and buckles, from being composed of metal, would be stolen to a certainty. Three modes of attaching strips of hide to each other are shown above. Figs. 1 and 2 illustrate how the bone rings before described can be made use of. Fig. 3 shows two loops twisted over each other. A good-sized bladder, or skin bag, forms a convenient receptacle for both rings and toggles, of which make plenty.
Camping.
The habits of sledge dogs.
Food for the dogs.
When about to pitch camp, or whilst resting, drive the spears into the ice to secure the dogs to by short neck ropes. Most sledge dogs are trained to lie down when the whip handle is passed lightly along their backs. Never heedlessly quit your sledge whilst on the march, unless you have fast hold of the upstanders, or without first bringing it to an anchor. This can be done by thrusting a seal spear or lance down into the snow between the first two transverse bars of the sledge bottom. Should you neglect these precautions, you stand a good chance of seeing your runaway team go rattling off in the far distance, leaving you to follow as you best may. To check the speed of your sledge when you are on it, plant your heels on the snow and sit fast. The habits of sledge dogs. It will be generally found that in every team there will be one master dog, who, by the use of a sharp set of teeth and a strong will, contrives to keep all the rest in subjection, and not unfrequently quells disorders among the quarrelsome pack by dashing in among them at the height of their constant skirmishes, and sending them head over heels to the right and left, thereby aiding his master in maintaining due discipline. Food for the dogs. Frozen or dried fish, and the offal of such animals as may be captured in the chase, are used as dog food. The Esquimaux usually feed their dogs but once in two days; it is better, however, to feed every day, but not until the work is finished, the journey ended, and the camp pitched. No dog works well on a full stomach. Great care should be exercised in the feeding of your dogs in order that all may share alike, as some are so desperately artful and cunning, that they do all in their power to delude their master into a belief that, instead of having had their full allowance, it is yet to come.
No northern traveller ever willingly allows his dogs to eat any portion of the liver of the polar bear, as it is pronounced by all the Esquimaux to be most unwholesome and injurious to dogs; they, therefore, either bury the bear’s liver under the ice, or, if practicable, cast it into the sea. No sledge or portion of the sledge equipment in the construction or repair of which, thongs or tendons have been used should be left in reach of the dogs during the night, or they will be pretty sure to reduce the whole to a wreck before morning. With such makeshift sledges as have their runners made from rolls of frozen hide this precaution is especially necessary.
Hints on sledges.
The following hints on the subject of sledges, given by Dr. Kane, are most valuable, being the result of no ordinary experience. To encounter broken ice in the midst of darkness, and at a temperature destructive to life, everything depends upon your sledge; should it break down, you might as well break your own leg—there is no hope for you. Our sledge, then, is made of well-tired oak, dovetailed into a runner shod with iron; no metal is used besides except the screws and rivets which confine the sledge to its runners. In this intense cold, iron snaps like glass, and no immovable or rigidly fastened wood-work would stand for a moment the fierce concussions of a drive. Everything is put together with lashings of sealskin, and the whole fabric is the skeleton framework of a sledge as flexible as a lady’s work-basket, and weighing only 40lb. On this we fasten a sacking bottom of canvas, tightly stretched, like its namesake of the four-post bedstead, around the margin. We call this ticking the apron and cover; the apron being a flap of 16in. high surrounding the cover, and either hanging loose at its sides, like a valance, or laced up down the middle. Into this apron and cover you pack your cargo—the less the better—and then lace and lash the whole securely together.