ip is thirty or thirty-five feet in length, though I
have seen them nearly fifty feet long. Eskimo drivers are exceedingly
expert in handling the long whip, and in the hands of a cruel driver
it is an instrument of torture. In southeastern and southern Labrador
and in Newfoundland the dog whip is used much less freely than in the
north, and the people are less expert in its manipulation than are the
Eskimos. The different species of dogs renders the use of the whip
less necessary.

Dog travel is seldom over smooth unobstructed ice fields. Sometimes it
is over frozen bays where the tide has thrown up rough hummocks and
ridges. I have been, under such conditions, nearly half a day crossing
the mouth of a river one mile wide. Often the trail leads over high
hills, with long hard steep climbs to be made and sometimes dangerous
descents. In traveling over sea ice, especially in the late winter and
spring, and always when an off shore wind prevails, there is danger of
encountering bad ice, and breaking through, or having the ice "go
abroad," and cutting you off from shore. When the tide has smashed the
ice, it is often necessary to drive the team on the "ballicaders," or
ice barricade, a narrow strip of ice clinging to the rocky shore. This
is sometimes scarce wide enough for the komatik, and the greatest
skill is necessary on the part of the driver to keep the komatik from
slipping off the ballicader and falling and pulling the dogs into the
sea.

When the snow is soft some one on snowshoes must go in advance of the
dogs and pack the trail for them. Where traveling is rough, and in
up-hill work, it is more than often necessary to pull with the dogs,
and lift the komatik over obstructions.

In descending steep slopes the driver has a thick hoop of woven walrus
hide, which he throws over the nose of one of the runners to serve as
a drag. Even then, the descent may be rapid and exciting, and not a
little dangerous for dogs and men. The driver throws himself on his
side on the komatik clinging to it with both hands. His legs extend
forward at the side of the sledge, he sticks his heels into the snow
ahead to retard the progress, in imminent danger of a broken leg.

Winter settles early in Labrador and northern Newfoundland. Snow
comes, the sea smokes, and then one morning men wake up to find a
field of ice where waves were lapping the day before and where boats
have sailed all summer.

Then it is that Doctor Grenfell sets