(we may see a seal if we go on the ice), some wood (we shall want a fire for camping out, and I hope matches have not been forgotten), the coats of the men, a sleeping sack and a pair of sealskin trousers.  Those two oval frames like a large lawn tennis bat without handle, are a pair of snow-shoes.  All these traps are secured by a sealskin thong passing over the ends of the cross-boards, and pulled tight.  It would not do to lose anything on the way.

Now seat yourself there in front of the box.  But the dogs are not attached to the sledge. Seat yourself; they are all harnessed.  Each has a band of sealskin round his neck and another round his body, and to this simple harness is attached the separate trace or thong by which he does his share in pulling the sledge.  In one moment the sledge rope will be passed through the loops of all their traces, and they will be off almost before you can say “Hoo-eet,” for they, like the Eskimoes standing round, seem to enjoy the fun.  We are supposed to start southward for Okak, and to come home, by way of Ramah.  I seat myself and get a good hold, with my back against the box and my feet well off the ground.  “Hoo-eet!” The dogs are directed by the voice, and that is the word used to start them.  Shout “Owk, Owk,” and they will run to the right, or “Ra, Ra, Ra,” and you will soon find yourself going to the left.  Say, “Ah, Ah,” and your dogs will lie down.  Now you have all your directions so “Hoo-eet,” we are off, gliding easily over the grass, for snow and ice there is none this warm autumn day after a night when there were two or three degrees of frost.  So it is rather hard for the dogs, when we turn the corner of the mission enclosure and are going a bit up-hill through the long grass.  Thomas, one of the Eskimoes, is running in front of the dogs in his sealskin boots with the fur outside—­a handsome pair.  Enoch is minding the sledge, now running beside me, now throwing himself down on it in front of me, or lifting the front end of the runners from right to left, or vice versa to turn a corner or avoid a stone.  “Owk, Owk,” he shouts as we wish to turn the corner to the right.  A third Eskimo, who is running between us and the dogs with the whip, takes up the sound and the dogs obey.  But as it seems hard for them through the long grass, I get off and run after till we come to the corner by the church.  It will go easier along the path to the left.  I seat myself again and the driver cries “Ra, Ra, Ra.”  Away we go.  It is well I was wary of the stones, another inch and that rock just passed would have given me a sore foot or a sprained ankle.  “Owk, Owk.”  We leave the path on our left and turn away to the right over rocks and moss.  The ground is broken but the long runners of the sledge make it go fairly smoothly.  “Ah, Ah,” or as Thomas pronounces it long drawn, “Aw, Aw.”  At this sound the dogs stop and lie down, with their tails curled over their backs.  We are supposed