His men were experienced, knowing the country perfectly, including a knowledge of winter trails and methods of traveling such as all Eskimos possess, and though the weather was not just what the captain might have wished, he decided to make the start, and left St. Michael in good shape for the long trip. The strong sleds with high-back handle bar and railed sides were firmly packed with freight, which was securely lashed down. The dogs were driven in pairs, eleven to a sled, the eleventh being in each case a fine leader and called such, besides having his own Eskimo name, as did also the four men who were warmly dressed in furs from head to foot. These natives were familiar with little English, but as the captain had made himself acquainted with their language they had no difficulty in making each other understood. Early in the evening of that day they reached the Mission station of Unalaklik, on the mainland, about fifty miles northeast of the island, where they spent the night. In this settlement were white traders, as well as missionaries and numbers of Eskimos, it being an old port of considerable importance. In the cold grey morning light Punni Churah and the men called to the malemutes, patting their furry heads and talking kindly to them, for many a weary, long mile of snow trail stretched northward for them that day before they could rest and eat. Only at night, when their day's work was done, were these faithful creatures ever fed on seal, fish, whale, or walrus meat, for otherwise they would be drowsy, and not willing to travel; so they were called early from their snow beds in a drift or hollow, where they liked best to sleep, and made ready for the start. Dressed in their squirrel skin parkies, with wide-bordered hoods upon their heads, reindeer muckluks on their feet and mittens of skin upon their hands, stood Ah Chugor Ruk, Ung Kah Ah Ruk, Iamkiluk and Punni Churah, long lashed whips in hand, and waiting. On one of the sleds, dressed and enveloped in furs, sat the captain, before giving the order to start. At the word from him, the dogs sprang to their collars, the little bells jingled, and away they all dashed. Team after team, over the well-trodden trail they went, keeping up a continuous and sprightly trot for hours, while behind at the handle bars ran the natives, and rocks, hills and mountains were passed all unnoticed. That night another Eskimo village was reached, and sixty miles of snow trail were left behind. Shaktolik lay on the shore southeast of a portage which would have to be made over a small point of land jutting out into Norton Bay.