inary surgeons in the world could have saved the
dog, but there was none to try; and there was only one thing to do, hate
it as we might. Arthur and I were grateful that neither of us had to do
it, for the driver of the mail stage, who had some compunctions of
conscience, I think, volunteered to save us the painful duty. "I know
how you feel," he said slowly and kindly; "I've got a dog I think a heap
of myself, but that dog ain't nothin' to me an' I'll do it for you."

Nanook knew perfectly well that it was all over with him. Head and tail
down, the picture of resigned dejection, he stood like a petrified dog.
And when I put my face down to his and said "Good-bye," he licked me for
the first time in his life. In the six years I had owned him and driven
him I had never felt his tongue before, though I had always loved him
best of the bunch. He was not the licking kind.

We hitched up our diminished team and pulled out, for we had thirty
miles to make in the short daylight and we had lost time already; and as
we crossed the bridge over the steaming slough we saw the man going
slowly down to the river with the dog, the chain in one hand, a gun in
the other. My eyes filled with tears; I could not look at Arthur nor he
at me as I passed forward to run ahead of the team, and I was glad when
I realised that we had drawn out of ear-shot.

All day as I trudged or trotted now on snow-shoes and now off, as the
trail varied in badness, that dog was in my mind and his loss upon my
heart, the feel of his tongue upon my cheek. It takes the close
companionship between a man and his dogs in this country, travelling all
the winter long, winter after winter, through the bitter cold and the
storm and darkness, through the long, pleasant days of the warm sunshine
of approaching spring, sharing labour and sharing ease, sharing
privation and sharing plenty; it takes this close companionship to make
a man appreciate a dog. As I reckoned it up, Nanook had fallen just
short of pulling my sled ten thousand miles. If he had finished this
season with me he would have done fully that, and I had intended to
pension him after this winter, to provide that so long as he lived he
should have his fish and rice every day. Some doubt I had had of old
Lingo lasting through the winter, but none of Nanook, and they were the
only survivors of my original team.

[Sidenote: THE TALKING DOG]

Nanook was in as good spirits as ever I knew him that last night, co