THE RETURN.
We reached our permanent camp on our return from King William Land on
September 19th. It was about six miles south-east of Gladman Point, and
at the foot of a high hill, which Toolooah remarked would make a good
look-out tower for deer-hunting. All along this part of the coast,
where Simpson Strait is narrowest, would soon swarm with reindeer
waiting for the salt water to freeze, so they could continue their
navigation southward. It is for this reason that we selected it as our
permanent camp while we also awaited the freezing of the strait, so
that we could cross with our heavy sleds. When Henry and Frank went
down the coast they found reindeer everywhere else but at Gladman Point
and that neighborhood, and were there for three days without food. In
the meantime Toolooah crossed the strait in a kyack and found the
natives. On his return he killed a reindeer on the main-land and
relieved their distress. Long before we reached the spot the meadows
and ponds were frozen, so that we could cross them with perfect
impunity. In many places the ice was so clear that it required
considerable moral courage to step upon it, it looked so exactly like
still water.
[Illustration: SCHWATKA'S PERMANENT CAMP.]
Henry came up to see us the next day, his camp being about seven miles
below. The Inuits crossed to the King William Land side on the 17th. It
was a picturesque sight to see the whole of Joe's and Ishnark's
families, with Henry and a number of dogs, upon a raft made by lashing
together four kyacks. They had to choose a still day for the crossing,
and keep very quiet while upon the raft. Lieutenant Schwatka paid a
visit to the other camp on the 22d, and the day following Toolooah and
I moved our camp about two miles farther east, to a large lake, where
we at once set to work, the ice being already eight inches thick, to
build an ice igloo of large slabs three feet by six, which standing on
end and so placed as to support each other, formed the walls, which
afterward were covered with the tent, and made a much warmer house than
the tent alone, as it is a complete shelter against the wind.
[Illustration: HENRY KLUTSCHAK'S CAMP.]
Reindeer were now seen daily in immense herds. The day we moved camp we
ran upon a herd of about fifty, and Toolooah killed seven before they
could get away, following them up, running and dropping on his knee to
fire. So rapid and effective was his delivery with his Winchester
repeating carbine, that this unequalled achievement was accomplished in
less than ten minutes; and, well knowing that it was to his splendid
weapon that the credit largely belonged, this undemonstrative savage
held up his rifle and kissed it while he was talking to me about the
affair. On the 30th Toolooah killed twelve reindeer, Joe eight, and
Equeesik and I each three, making a grand total of twenty-six by our
party alone in one day.
We ate quantities of reindeer tallow with our meat, probably about half
our daily food. Breakfast is eaten raw and frozen, but we generally
have a warm meal in the evening. Fuel is hard to obtain, and consists
entirely of a vine-like moss called ik-shoot-ik. Reindeer tallow is
also used for a light. A small flat stone serves for a candlestick, on
which a lump of tallow is placed, close to a piece of fibrous moss
called mun-ne, which is used for a wick. The tallow melting runs down
upon the stone and is immediately absorbed by the moss. This makes a
very cheerful and pleasant light, but is most exasperating to a hungry
man, as it smells exactly like frying meat. Eating such quantities of
tallow is a great benefit in this climate, and we can easily see the
effect of it in the comfort with which we meet the cold. The mean
temperature for the month of September was 22.1 degrees Fahr., and the
lowest 5 degrees, and yet though we wore only our woollen clothes,
except a fur koo-li-tar, or overcoat, when away from home, the cold is
not annoying. During October the mean temperature was -0 degree, and
the lowest -38 degrees.
On the afternoon of the 27th of September a heavy snow-storm set in,
and the next morning the snow was knee-deep on the level ice. The storm
continued until during the night of the 29th. The snow was very deep,
but the winter winds soon blew it around and packed it down so as to be
almost solid. By the 14th of October the sledging was sufficiently good
for Toolooah to go to Cape Herschel and Terror Bay for the sled and
other articles that were left there during the summer for the want of
transportation. As his little boy would suffer with the cold, Toolooah
exchanged wives with Joe for the trip, a very usual and convenient
custom among the Esquimaux.
The ice was sufficiently strong for the reindeer to commence crossing
to the main-land about the 1st of October, and in a few days their
numbers had very perceptibly diminished. After the 14th we saw none at
all; they seemed to have entirely disappeared. The Inuits had been very
busy making up fur clothing for the winter trip, and we had fixed upon
the 1st of November as the day for starting, by which time everything
would be ready. Toolooah got back on the 23d. He killed three bears the
day he reached Terror Bay. All of them got into the water, and he had
to go to the edge of the new ice, using a pole to stand upon while
fishing them out. He killed one reindeer at Cape Herschel, which was
all he saw while away.
Joe came up and built an igloo adjoining ours on the 3d of October. He
wanted to get away from the vicinity of Ogzeuckjeuwock, the Netchillik
Arn-ket-ko, or medicine-man, of whom he was apparently very much
afraid. He alleged that the medicine-man was constantly advising his
people to kill some of our party. Joe said that he had sak-ki-yon to
that effect--that is, during one of his inspirations exhorted them to
that end. There is no doubt but they would be very glad to kill us all,
and get our guns and knives, but they were thoroughly afraid to
undertake it. After Toolooah's return he and Joe gathered in the meat
we had cached in the vicinity, preparatory to starting on the 1st of
the next month.
Lieutenant Schwatka decided that he and I would take Toolooah's sled,
with Joe to assist, and go by the way of Smith and Grant Points, and
through the big inlet spoken of by the natives as putting in from
Wilmot Bay, and meet the other sleds which, in charge of Henry, would
go by the way of Richardson Point and Back's River, meeting at the bend
of the river above the Dangerous Rapids, where we would find the
Ooqueesiksillik natives and take on board a supply of fish to last us
until we reached the reindeer country once more. As the other sleds had
the shorter route, they would start a day or two later and wait for us
at the appointed rendezvous, unless they were getting short of food, in
which case they would push on into the reindeer country. Narleyow, the
Ooqueesiksillik guide, would accompany them. We started on the 1st, as
proposed, but did not succeed in getting farther than the shore of the
strait, about three miles from camp, owing to the heavy sleds and the
dogs being so fat that they were lazy. We took Ishnark's sled to help
us for the first day, as we had such a quantity of meat--one sled
loaded entirely with it and the other with about half a load. We had to
keep the extra sled the following day also, as we wanted to get well
over the salt-water ice.
We had fondly hoped to be at the Dangerous Rapids by the 10th or 15th
of November, but we only reached the native camp near the mouth of
Kigmuktoo (Sherman Inlet) on the 12th, owing to our heavily loaded sled
and the much bad weather, fogs, and wind that would blow the snow
around so that we could not see our course. There was quite a large
camp of Netchillik and Ookwolik Esquimaux on a big lake near the mouth
of Sherman Inlet, the largest camp we had yet seen. The sled was
pulling heavily and slowly across the lake, and I went ahead toward the
igloos. All the men were standing outside awaiting our arrival, and
among them were some Netchilliks we had met during the spring. As soon
as they recognized me they set up a great shout of "Many-tu-me!" which
is their salutation of welcome, and means smooth. They seemed very glad
that we were coming among them again, and hurried me into a big, warm
igloo, while most of the men ran out and helped the sled in. They built
our igloo in short order, and during the time we were with them did
everything in their power to contribute to our comfort. It seemed as if
some one was on the roof of our igloo all the time patching up holes,
and they changed the direction of the doorway every time the wind
changed, and that kept them busy nearly all the time.
We found but few interesting relics among them. Only a piece of the
boat found in Wilmot Bay after the big ship sunk, and part of the block
branded either "10" or "O R," with part of the R obliterated. If the
ship's blocks were branded with the name of the vessel to which they
were attached, this would be important as establishing the identity of
the ship that drifted down as the 'Terror'. As an instance of the
perversity of fate, I mention that we found among them a piece of wax
candle that they had preserved all these years, while every scrap of
paper had perished. We saw here a Netchillik, named Issebluet, who with
his family had nearly starved to death during the summer. He was
separated from the rest of his tribe, as it is customary for them to
scatter during the summer, and though not lacking in skill or energy,
had simply been unfortunate and unable to procure food. He was still
very thin and weak when we saw him, and when he went abroad had to take
a couple of dogs, whose traces, tied around his waist, helped him
along. Joe was very much frightened all the time we were here, for
Netchillik Toolooah was here also--the man who it was said wanted to
kill some of our party--and Joe said they intended to kill all our
party except the women, and obtain possession of the baggage and the
two women. He said their apparent kindness was only a blind, and the
day we left them he made me prance around with my pistol in my belt
while the sled was being loaded. Toolooah, though not so nervous as
Joe, had his rifle handy and kept his eye upon it closely. I noticed
that the men all stood around, but never offered to assist in loading
the sled. Toolooah said they could not very well without exposing a
fact that he had noticed--that they all had their knives in their
sleeves. But if they had, they took good care not to use them. Two of
them accompanied us a part of the way to show us the easiest route over
the heavy hill we had to cross before reaching the salt-water ice, and
kindly put their shoulders to the load whenever the sled pulled hard. I
saw nothing in the conduct of any of them to complain of, but
everything to praise. I noticed that most of the men in this camp had
their hair cut close to their heads, the style that at home is
profanely called "a Reilly cut." This I ascertained was not for
personal adornment, but for convenience in hunting, where fine-tooth
combs are unknown, but could be put to good use.
We met a sled with a few natives coming from Kigmuktoo to join the rest
of the tribe on the lake, and with them was an aged crone named
Toolooah, who had seen white men in Boothia Isthmus, when a young
woman, and had also been with the party who found the boat and
skeletons in Starvation Cove, near Richardson Point. She confirmed the
testimony previously obtained in every essential particular. We gave
her a few needles and a spoon, for which she was very grateful,
especially to her namesake, our Toolooah, to whom she gave her
walking-stick and two locks of her hair, which he severed with a
snow-knife as she knelt beside the sled. This was a charm to protect
him from evil until he got home. Besides this old woman there were three
other women on the sled. One I noticed particularly, because she looked
so much like the Goddess of Liberty. Her hood was over her head and hung
with the same jaunty air as a liberty cap, and her artiger, cut loose in
the throat, looked not unlike the classic toga. Though not quite so
large as the statue on the dome of the Capitol at Washington, she was
immense, and had arms like a gymnast. Modesty, either natural or
assumed, and fear of the strange white men made her keep on the
opposite side of the sled from us, though, as Lieutenant Schwatka
remarked, she could have handled both of us if she wanted to.
We marched in a south-east direction in the inlet five days, during
which we travelled upon it about forty-five miles, and when we left it
could still see it running in a southerly direction for about ten or
fifteen miles farther. It is bottle-shaped, not more than a mile wide
at its mouth, and for a considerable distance, when it gradually widens
out to five or six miles, and is about twenty miles wide at its head.
Nearly every night we were able to find water in some lake on the land,
but had to carry it from two to four miles into camp. This duty
Lieutenant Schwatka and I took upon ourselves, while the Inuits were
building and preparing the igloo.
The sun was so low now that we had either sunrise or sunset during the
whole time it was above the horizon. At noon it was not more than four
degrees high. We were gradually moving southward, or we would have been
left with nothing but this light during the daytime. In fact, several
days before we left Back's River, the sun only showed his diameter
above the hills along the shore, where it lazily rolled for a few
minutes and left us the long twilight in which to build our igloos,
which were scarely ever finished before the utter darkness came upon
us. Short days, together with our heavy sleds, and dogs not more than
half fed, kept us back most provokingly. The snow on the land was soft,
not having got thoroughly packed as yet, while the intense cold covered
its surface with minute particles of ice that impeded the sled like so
much sand. In many places the river and lakes were entirely denuded of
snow, and the bare ice would take the ice from our runners as if we
were moving over rocks. As long as the river ice was bare this made no
difference; the sled would slip along merrily, the dogs on a run, but
this seldom lasted for more than half a mile, when we would again run
upon snow and have all the more laborious drag as a consequence. Our
usual marches at this time were from five to ten miles, instead of from
ten to twenty, as on our way north.
The most unpleasant feature of winter travelling is the waiting for an
igloo to be built. To those at work even this time can be made to pass
pleasantly, and there is plenty that even the white men of a party can
do that would keep them busy, and consequently comfortable. When
travelling overland the halt is made, if possible, on some lake where a
water hole may be dug. This, through average ice--that is, about six or
seven feet--will take about an hour and a half, though an expert native
will do it in perhaps half that time. It is a blessing to get water at
this time, and a great shout goes up from the well-digger, as the
delicious fluid comes bubbling up through the narrow well, that is
echoed by the igloo builders and spreads throughout the camp. Then the
women repair with tin dippers and cups cut from musk-ox horn, and after
refreshing themselves carry a drink to their husbands. One can drink
enormously at this time, especially after working; but it will be well
to keep up pretty violent exercise for some time afterward, as filling
the stomach with such a quantity of ice-cold water will soon produce a
shiver.
Another task that the white men can interest themselves in is the
unloading of the sled and beating the snow and ice out of the fur
bed-clothing. The Esquimaux do not use sleeping bags for themselves,
but instead have a blanket which they spread over them, while under them
are several skins, not only to keep the body away from the snow, but
also to prevent the body from thawing the snow couch and thus making a
hole that would soon wet the skins. While on the march the skins for
the bed are usually spread over the top of the loaded sledge, and then
the whole is securely lashed down with seal-skin thongs. It is the
invariable custom to turn the fur-side of the skins up, because it is
easy enough to beat the snow from the hair, while it might thaw and
make the skin-side wet. You often, therefore, find that water has
fallen upon the skin that makes your bed, and formed a great patch of
ice, which has to be beaten off with a wooden club.
Until experience has taught you it makes you shudder to think that soon
your naked body is to rest upon the place where now you see that patch
of ice. But continued pounding will remove every vestige of it without
disturbing the fur, if the weather is sufficiently cold. Therefore
exposure is the best treatment for bedding, though it certainly gives
the skins a degree of cold that can scarcely be appreciated until
experienced. It is astonishing, however, how soon the bed becomes warm
from the heat of the body. For, perhaps, from five to ten minutes you
may lie there and shiver, when gradually a genial warmth begins to
pervade the whole body, the shiver subsides, and you are as
comfortable, as far as cold is concerned, in bed in an igloo in the
Arctic, as you would be in a civilized mansion in the temperate zone.
The Esquimaux are not acquainted with the qualities of the magnetic
needle, and, it is needless to say, do not travel by the compass. Like
all savage tribes they have, however, methods for keeping their
direction while making long voyages. These are usually made on the
salt-water ice, and they follow the land; but when travelling over
land, either in summer or winter, they can generally distinguish north
from south, at least approximately. In summer the running vines point
to the salt water, they say, which, in going around Hudson's Bay, would
indicate the south. And then there are certain species of moss that are
only found in the vicinity of salt water. In winter they notice the
ridges of snow along the ice, or the land spots on the highlands, and
can keep their course by them with surprising accuracy.
The Esquimaux, however, are not a people given to exploration. They are
not curious concerning unknown territory. What they are chiefly
interested in is, "what they shall eat and drink, and wherewithal they
shall be clothed." Certain districts within their knowledge furnish the
different kinds of game, and these they visit at the accustomed
seasons. Occasionally they will visit neighboring tribes, and sometimes
settle down in the new country, depending upon their skill in the chase
for the support of their families. But this country, new to them, is
well known to those whom they visit, and they have the benefit of
competent guides until such time as they are sufficiently acquainted
with the country themselves. Though they are constantly moving in
summer and winter, their journeys are seldom extended. They will
sometimes go from the mouth of Chesterfield Inlet to the Wager River or
Repulse Bay, and occasionally to the tribes at the north part of
Melville Peninsula, but generally spend one year at least at some
intermediate point. The tribes they pass through on these journeys are
so connected by marriage as to be almost like one large tribe, so that
they are all the time in the land of their friends.
Twice since leaving the Inuit camp in Wilmot Bay the dogs had an
interval of eight days between meals, and were in no condition for hard
work. That they could live and do any work at all seemed marvellous. I
am constrained to believe that the Esquimau dog will do more work, and
with less food, than any other draught animal existing. On the night of
the 20th Lieutenant Schwatka observed a meridian culmination of the
moon, which showed in latitude 67 deg. 32 min. 42 sec. north, only
three miles from our reckoning. It is a difficult task to make
astronomical observations with a sextant in a temperature thirty-eight
degrees below zero, or seventy below the freezing-point, as it was this
night. It is not pleasant to sit still for any length of time in such
weather. A thin skim of ice over the surface of the kerosene oil used
for an artificial horizon has to be constantly removed by the warm
breath of an assistant. The sextant glasses become obscure from the
freezing upon them of the breath of the observer, and can only be
cleaned with the warm fingers, which they blister in return for such
kindness. These are some of the obstacles to determining one's position
astronomically in an Arctic winter; while in summer, there being no
night, one is dependent upon the sun alone. The mean temperature for
November was -23.3 degrees and the lowest noted -49 degrees.
We ran upon a narrow strip of salt water, apparently an inlet from
Cockburn Bay, on the 28th. We had to halt the next day for Toolooah to
rest, as he was completely prostrated with the hard work of the last
four days. We moved, however, on the 30th, Joe driving and Toolooah
strolling along at his ease. We emerged upon Cockburn Bay soon after
starting, and crossed to the southern shore by noontime, a distance of
about nine miles, our rapid moving being entirely owing to the
superiority of the sledging on salt-water ice.
We crossed the narrow neck of land between Cockburn Bay and the
fresh-water portion of the river between the two great bends in three
days' travel, and emerged about eight miles above the Dangerous Rapids
on the 5th of December, where we had hoped to be by the 15th of
November. Our igloos were made on the southern bank, and we were greatly
surprised that we saw no sled tracks in crossing the river. We had
supposed that they, with the shorter route and smooth salt-water ice
nearly all the way, would have been ahead of us, and either waiting or
forced to move into the reindeer country for food. Our first object,
therefore, was to find the natives, who live here all the year round,
as Narleyow, one of the tribe, who was with Henry, constantly assured
us was the case. From these people we expected to get information
concerning the other sleds, and also to get a large quantity of fish for
food for man and beast. We found some fish caches near our camp, and
some sled tracks and footprints about one mile and a half farther down
the river, which Joe said led a long distance. The day after our arrival
we appropriated one large cache to feed our starving dogs, and then
started the next day for their camp to pay for the fish and buy more.
But shortly after all the men started, one of the women ran out and
called us back, saying that Inuits were coming to the igloo. We hastened
back and found three young men of the Ooqueesiksillik tribe, who had
found their cache robbed and traced the tracks to our igloo. Joe
explained the case to them, and said we had knives to pay for the fish
and to buy more, which they said would be gladly accepted, and they
would tell their people to bring us more fish that night. We were
astonished when they said they had neither seen nor heard of any others
of our party.
That night, after the igloo was closed and we were eating our evening
meal, we heard a sled drive up to the door and supposed our fish had
arrived; but what was our joy when we recognized Koumania's voice
driving the dogs, and then heard Henry at the door of our igloo. We
then learned that they had reached the Dangerous Rapids only that
afternoon, and while building the igloos the three young men we had
seen in the morning returned and reported having seen us up the river.
As soon as Henry heard this he had the load dumped from one of the
sleds, and took Koumania to drive and an Ooqueesiksillik native as
guide, and came at once to report. He said it had been very difficult
to get his party of natives away from the camps that they met daily,
and that they had moved by portages, which doubled the distance. He had
bought dog food of the natives all along the route, and his dogs were,
consequently, in good order. They would remain in camp where they were
a day or two to feed up the dogs and get what fish they wanted for his
two sleds, and then join us on the 10th.
About five miles inland from Starvation Cove the natives had found
during the summer the skeleton of a white man which no one had ever
seen before. On the way down, Henry visited the place and erected a
monument over the remains. The pieces of clothing found indicated that
deceased was a sailor, not an officer. The finding of this grave is
worthy of notice, as showing that the natives were thoroughly aroused
by our visit and its object. We had promised them liberal rewards for
everything of importance found, and for valuable information--that is,
anything new--and were always particular to keep our promises. The
consequence was that they had greatly aided us by searching everywhere
within reach of their camps or hunting grounds. In approaching the
Dangerous Rapids from Cockburn Bay, Henry had found an island where on
the Admiralty chart is marked a point of the mainland. In fact, there
is a delta at the mouth of the river. Narleyow led them to a place in
the branch of the river flowing to the westward of this island, where
he said a rocky ridge froze to the bottom, making a pocket which held
fish. They dug four holes within an area of ten feet, and in one day
caught fifty-seven of the immense salmon for which this river is
famous. He cooked one for us, which was the largest I ever saw. Joe
measured the cross-section of one he saw in the native igloos below our
camp that measured over one foot. I asked him how much over, but he
couldn't tell, he said, as his pocket measure was "only a foot long".
[Illustration: VIEW ON BACK'S RIVER.]
The largest number of fish caught here are what the natives call
"cow-e-sil-lik," and are peculiar to these waters. They are something
like very large herring, and the flesh much coarser than salmon or
trout. All the fish here are quite fat, the salmon especially. We bought
several bags of salmon oil from the natives, which we used, so long as
it lasted, as a substitute for reindeer tallow, which is all gone now.
The weather is intensely cold -62 degrees Fahrenheit on the 10th, the
day the remainder of our party rejoined us at this camp. There was
scarcely any wind, and it did not seem so cold as at -10 degrees or -20
degrees, with the wind blowing in one's face, as it was the last few
days of our travelling, with the thermometer at -46 degrees and -48
degrees. Yet we were so well fortified against the cold by the
quantities of fat we had eaten that we did not mind it. The prospect
was that now we were out of fat we would suffer a great deal with the
intense cold that we might expect in going across land from Back's
River to Hudson's Bay.
The rapids on Back's River are all marked by open water, and are
recognizable at a long distance by the column of black smoke arising
from them like steam from a boiling caldron. The ice in the vicinity is
dangerous to travel upon, there often being thin places, where the
moving water has nearly, but not quite, cut through, and not
distinguishable from the surrounding ice, which may be four or five
feet thick. The natives test it, before going upon it, with a knife or
stick, and know from the sound whether or not it is safe to travel
upon. In some of the many open water places that we found in our
journey up the river we could walk boldly up to the very edge and lie
down and quench our thirst from the rushing torrent, while in other
places it was not safe to go within several hundred yards of the open
water. On the 20th we passed open rapids about half a mile long, where
we had to take the land. From the top of the hill it was a grand
spectacle to look down upon the seething torrent and see the great
cakes of ice broken off above and crushed to atoms as they passed
through and under the ice below.
[Illustration: THE DANGEROUS RAPIDS, BACK'S RIVER.]
We had hoped to have Narleyow go with us to Depot Island, as he had
previously been up Back's River and knew a route overland by which in
three days we could reach a river where some Kinnepatoos were encamped
all the year round. Here we could refit with meat and clothing and
follow the river, which flows into Chesterfield Inlet, and then keep
upon the salt-water ice to Depot Island. But with true Inuit
perverseness he decided at the last minute not to go. He, however, gave
Toolooah minute directions for finding the place where to leave Back's
River, which is nearly as far west as Lake McDougal, and the route
overland, where we would find sledge tracks and footprints to guide us
to the camp.
We found the travelling on Back's River much more tedious than we had
anticipated, owing to the bare ice in the vicinity of the open-water
rapids and the intense cold which kept the air filled with minute
particles of ice from the freezing of the steam of the open water.
These little particles of ice would fall upon the hard snow, which
otherwise would have been good sledging, and remain separated from each
other so that you could brush them up like sand, and were, in fact,
nearly as hard as sand, so that it was almost impossible to drag the
sledges along. The thermometer would frequently register -50 degrees
and -60 degrees when we were moving with a strong wind blowing directly
in our faces. Such travelling as this is simply terrible, and it is
astonishing that we were able to do it without encountering any severe
frost-bites. Indeed, we travelled one day with the thermometer -69
degrees, and, a gale blowing at this time, both white men and Inuits
were more or less frost-bitten, but merely the little nippings of nose,
cheeks, and wrists that one soon gets accustomed to in this country. As
Lieutenant Schwatka says, it is like almost all other dangers that you
hear and read about, they seem to dwindle when you meet them boldly
face to face. A battle always seems more terrible to those in the rear
than to those in the front lines.
It was a noticeable fact that our course up the river was considerably
east of south, instead of west, as mapped upon the Admiralty chart.
There could be no mistake in regard to this when we could daily see the
sun rise and set on the right of our general line of travel. It was
near the end of December before we reached the vicinity of Mount
Meadowbank, though we had hoped to be far beyond it by that time.
Storms had kept us in camp several days during the journey up the
river, and our provisions were nearly all exhausted, so that we had to
lie over to hunt for game. The hunters could find nothing near the
river, and were obliged to go with a sled one day's march to the east,
build an igloo, and hunt from there. It was terribly cold for them,
sleeping in an igloo, without fire or blankets, merely a shelter from
the wind, and forced, as they were, to sleep in their clothes. I have
had such experience and know what it is. In such cases one suffers more
from cold feet than anything else. They would be intensely cold with
dry stockings, but one's stockings are always wet from perspiration
after walking, and when compelled to wear them at night cause great
suffering.
Equeesik killed four reindeer, and we had to wait for them to be
brought in. At this time this was all the food we had, and before more
was obtained we were upon short rations. The dogs were beginning to
feel the effect of hard work, cold weather, and low diet, and already
we had lost two fine young dogs that died in consequence of privation.
Before we had reached Depot Island we lost twenty-seven dogs, all but
four of which died from the hardships incident to the journey. All
hands were in harness whenever we marched, and the work was too hard to
admit of feeling the cold as the greatest discomfort we had to
encounter.