On the fifteenth of October the sun bade them farewell for four months, and they anticipated the coming darkness under circumstances certainly much better than had been often granted to arctic sojourners. As there was yet a long twilight, dog-trips were very exhilarating. Dr. Hayes once rode behind his dogs twelve measured miles in an hour and one minute, without a moment's halt. Sontag and the captain raced their teams, the captain beating, as was becoming, by four minutes. The dogs were made to know their masters--a knowledge quite necessary for the good of all. Jensen observed that one of his team was getting rebellious. "You see dat beast," he said. "I takes a piece out of his ear." The long lash unrolls, the sinewy snapper on its tip touches the tip of the dog's ear, and takes out a piece as neatly as a sharp knife would have done. The same day Jensen's skill at dog driving was put to a severe test. A fox crossed their path. Up went their tails, curling over their backs, their short ears pricked forward, and away they went in full chase. In such a case woe be to the driver who cannot take a piece of flesh out of any dog in the team at each snap of his merciless whip. Jensen was usually master of such a situation, but it so happened that a strong wind blew directly in the face of the team and carried the lash back before it reached its victim. Missing its terrible bite, the dogs became for a while unmanageable and raced after the fox at full speed. To make matters worse, treacherous ice lay just ahead. The dogs were already on the heels of the fox, and about to make a meal of him, when Jensen regained full control of his whip. It stung severely, now this one and then that. Their tails dropped, their ears drooped, and they paused and obeyed their master. But they were greatly provoked at the loss of the game, and at the harsh subjection, and, with characteristic amiability, they commenced to snap at and bite each other. Jensen jumped from the sledge and laid the whip-stock on them, knocking them to the right and left, until, it is presumed, made very loving by the process, they went about their assigned business. Parties of the explorers were out nearly every day, hunting, or pursuing the scientific inquiries. Knorr, the secretary of the commander, was off with Hans. He had his adventure to talk about on his return. He wounded in the valley a reindeer, which hobbled on three legs up a steep hill. The young hunter followed, and, getting within easy range, brought it down by a well-aimed shot. The deer being in a line with Knorr, came sliding down the hill, and, knocking against him, both went tumbling down together. Fortunately he carried no broken bones, but only bruises to the vessel as mementoes of his deer hunt.