Hebron is beyond the
northern limit of trees, but our missionaries at Hopedale have often
great trouble in passing through forests of stunted fir-trees. The
front dogs also have got their traces foul of the two other posts in
our forest of three trees without any branches. So we are brought to a
standstill until, all the harness being cleared, we are ready for a
fresh start down that slope to the right. "Owk, Owk," is the word, but
at the brook our wild career is brought to a sudden stop. Our specimen
sledge trip would not be complete without an accident. The bed of the
little stream proves just too wide for the sledge to clear it, and the
points of the runners have bored into the further bank. The thong of
the sledge has broken in two places with the jerk, and the dogs who
were pulling with might and main are suddenly released. Four or five
have been caught by our nimble Eskimoes, but the majority are off
home. Were the station three hours or three days distant and we were
left in the snow it would be a bit different to the present situation.
The station is about three minutes distant, and we have time for a
good laugh before our dogs are caught and brought back.
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