ader attends
with admirable precision, especially if his own name be repeated at the
same time, looking behind over his shoulder with great earnestness, as
if listening to the directions of the driver. On a beaten track, or
even where a single foot or sledge mark is occasionally discernible,
there is not the slightest trouble in guiding the dogs; for even in the
darkest night and in the heaviest snowdrift, there is little or no
danger of their losing the road, the leader keeping his nose near the
ground, and directing the rest with wonderful sagacity. Where, however,
there is no beaten track, the best driver among them makes a terribly
circuitous course, as all the Esquimaux roads plainly show; these
generally occupying an extent of six miles, when with a horse and sledge
the journey would scarcely have amounted to five. On rough ground, as
among hummocks of ice, the sledge would be frequently overturned or
altogether stopped if the driver did not repeatedly get off, and, by
lifting or drawing it to one side, steer it clear of those accidents. At
all times, indeed, except on a smooth and well-made road, he is pretty
constantly employed thus with his feet, which, together with his
never-ceasing vociferations and frequent use of the whip, renders the
driving of one of these vehicles by no means a pleasant or easy task.
When the driver wishes to stop the sledge, he calls out "Wo, woa,"
exactly as our carters do; but the attention paid to his command depends
altogether on his ability to enforce it. If the weight is small and the
journey homeward, the dogs are not to be thus delayed; the driver is
therefore obliged to dig his heels into the snow to obstruct their
progress; and, having thus succeeded in stopping them, he stands up with
one leg before the foremost crosspiece of the sledge, till, by means of
laying the whip gently over each dog's head, he has made them all lie
down. He then takes care not to quit his position; so that, should the
dogs set off, he is thrown upon the sledge, instead of being left behind
by them.

With heavy loads the dogs draw best with one of their own people,
especially a woman, walking a little way ahead; and in this case they
are sometimes enticed to mend their pace by holding a mitten to the
mouth, and then making the motion of cutting it with a knife, and
throwing it on the snow, when the dogs, mistaking it for meat, hasten
forward to pick it up. The women also entice them from the huts in