Day by day we had the satisfaction of seeing how the dogs found themselves more and more at home on board.  Perhaps, even among ourselves, there were one or two who had felt some doubt at first of what the solution of the dog question would be, but in any case all such doubts were soon swept away.  Even at an early stage of the voyage we had every reason to hope that we should land our animals safe and sound.  What we had to see to in the first place was to let them have as much and as good food as circumstances permitted.  As already mentioned, we had provided ourselves with dried fish for their consumption.  Eskimo dogs do not suffer very greatly from daintiness, but an exclusive diet of dried fish would seem rather monotonous in the long-run, even to their appetites, and a certain addition of fatty substances was necessary, otherwise we should have some trouble with them.  We had on board several great barrels of tallow or fat, but our store was not so large that we did not have to economize.  In order to make the supply of fat last, and at the same time to induce our boarders to take as much dried fish as possible, we invented a mixture which was called by a sailor’s term —­ daenge.  This must not be confused with “thrashing,"[4] which was also served out liberally from time to time, but the daenge was more in demand.  It consisted of a mixture of chopped-up fish, tallow, and maize-meal, all boiled together into a sort of porridge.  This dish was served three times a week, and the dogs were simply mad for it.  They very soon learned to keep count of the days when this mess was to be expected, and as soon as they heard the rattling of the tin dishes in which the separate portions were carried round, they set up such a noise that it was impossible to hear oneself speak.  Both the preparation and the serving out of this extra ration were at times rather troublesome, but it was well worth it.  It is quite certain that our complement of dogs would have made a poor show on arrival at the Bay of Whales if we had shrunk from the trouble.

The dried fish was not nearly so popular as the daenge, but to make up for that there was plenty of it.  Not that the dogs themselves ever thought they could have enough; indeed, they were always stealing from their neighbours, perhaps more for the sake of the sport than for anything else.  In any case, as a sport it was extremely popular, and it took many a good hiding to get the rascals to understand that it could not be allowed.  I am afraid, though, that they kept up their thieving even after they knew very well that it was wrong; the habit was too old to be corrected.  Another habit, and a very bad one, that these Eskimo dogs have fallen into in the course of ages, and of which we tried to break them, at all events during the sea voyage, is their tendency to hold howling concerts.  What the real meaning of these performances may be, whether they are a pastime, or an expression of gratification or the reverse,