It sometimes happens on a long trail with a heavy sled that a blizzard, or some other untoward circumstance, may delay a traveller for a longer or shorter time; sometimes for days. His food supply gives out and the dogs come to an end of their rations. The team gets ever more weary and more weak. The hunter goes on ahead, breaking the trail for them on snowshoes; the dogs stagger along after him, often lying down and refusing to get up. But the trouble has not been unforeseen. The master has prepared for this sort of emergency by carefully bringing along some particularly bad bits of refuse seal meat. The stench of them would imbue a skunk with self-respect, in comparison. Taking one of these, he forges ahead, calling the dogs and leaving behind him a lure like poison gas. He drops the meat, and the Leader, picking up the scent, with a new cock in his dispirited ears, bustles round, spurring up the team with the information. “Come on!” he says. “Can’t you see he’s dropped that bit? My, can’t you smell it? Hurry up, and let’s get it!” They do get up, poor dupes; but the Leader, in virtue of his longer trace gets there first, and doesn’t wait to argue. Over and over again this manœuvre is repeated, both on the hunter’s part and on the Leader’s. The rest of the team make all the effort they can to get equal with such duplicity, and sometimes even succeed in snatching first at the bait. Anyway, it is a fine way of getting the sled along and taking their minds off their troubles. A trail of loathsome scraps, each one encouraging a spurt on the part of the dogs, helps over the distance. Often an exhausted team has been enabled to cover the last few miles by this method, when otherwise they must have dropped. In spite of the rigour of his life and the necessary hardness of his owner, the Eskimo dog is not without that glorious power of faithful canine devotion which is one of the most beautiful forms of love on earth. The writer knows of at least two instances where a dog has wasted away and died of grief in his master’s absence or after his death. But such a true canine trait is very rare. For the most part, these animals readily transfer their affections to the hand that feeds them.