takes up the sound and the dogs obey. But as it seems hard for them through the long grass, I get off and run after till we come to the corner by the church. It will go easier along the path to the _left_. I seat myself again and the driver cries "Ra, Ra, Ra." Away we go. It is well I was wary of the stones, another inch and that rock just passed would have given me a sore foot or a sprained ankle. "Owk, Owk." We leave the path on our left and turn away to the _right_ over rocks and moss. The ground is broken but the long runners of the sledge make it go fairly smoothly. "Ah, Ah," or as Thomas pronounces it long drawn, "Aw, Aw." At this sound the dogs stop and lie down, with their tails curled over their backs. We are supposed to have arrived at a halting place where we shall camp out for the night. The wood is unloaded; to make the fire would be the first thing and then perhaps a snow-house for a shelter. The sleeping sack is ready to be my night's couch on the floor. Meanwhile, the dogs lie quite contentedly, and we use the first opportunity to count them. There are fourteen in harness and two are running beside them of their own accord, entering into the spirit of the thing in spite of their fear of that formidable whip. Nine of these useful animals belong to the mission. Their names are Yauerfritze, Purtzelmutter, Purtzel, Caro, Pius, Fanny (an exceptionally friendly Eskimo dog), Ammi, Kakkortak and Takkolik. The others belong to different natives. [Illustration: TRAVELLING IN LABRADOR.]