_September 22nd, 1888._--My good friends are determined that I shall see a real sledge and team of dogs start and travel. So after dinner the sledge is brought to the gate of the mission premises. It consists of a couple of iron-bound wooden runners about fifteen feet long and eight inches high, across which many cross-pieces of wood are secured with thongs. Nails would soon be pulled out or broken off on a journey over hummocky ice or uneven ground. First the sledge is laden with everything necessary for a winter journey. A great white bear skin is folded and laid along the front, making a comfortable seat. That bruin must have been an enormous creature. The box comes about the middle; it contains the traveller's traps. Behind it some coats, a gun, a harpoon (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,