f that
desolate country that stretches from the ice-bound Arctic to where the
gray and sullen waters of Bering Sea break on a bleak and wind-swept
shore. They figure but little in the forest-crowned Alaska of the
South, with its enchanted isles, emerald green, in the sunlit, silver
waves; but they are an indispensable factor in the very struggle for
mere existence up beyond the chain of rugged Aleutians whose towering
volcanoes are ever enveloped in a sinister shroud of smoke. Up in the
eternal snows of the Alaska of the North, the unknown Alaska--the Alaska
of Men and Dogs.

[Illustration: THE ALASKA OF MEN AND DOGS June 1--The
steamer Corwin at the edge of the ice, five miles from shore]

And so it is not strange that in such a land where the dog has ever
played well his role of support to those who have faced its dangers and
conquered its terrors, that his importance should be at last freely
acknowledged, and the fact admitted that only the best possible dogs
should be used for all arduous tasks.

Toward this end the Nome Kennel Club was organized. The object was not
alone the improvement of the breeds used so extensively, but also, since
the first President was a Kentuckian, of equal importance was the
furnishing of a wholesome and characteristic sport for the community.

And Nome, once famed for her eager, reckless treasure-seekers in that
great rush of 1900; famed once for being the "widest open" camp in all
Alaska, now in her days of peace and quiet still claims recognition. Not
only because of the millions taken out annually by her huge dredgers and
hydraulics; not only because she is an important trading station that
supplies whalers and explorers with all necessary equipment for their
voyages in the Arctic; not only because of her picturesque history; but
because she possesses the best sled dogs to be found, and originated and
maintains the most thrilling and most difficult sport the world has ever
known--Long Distance Dog Racing.

Previous to the advent of these races any dog that could stand on four
legs, and had strength enough to pull, was apt to be pressed into
service; but since they have become a recognized feature of the life
there, a certain pride has manifested itself in the dog-drivers, and
dog-owners, who aim now to use only the dogs really fitted for the work.
Even the Eskimos, who were notorious for their indifferent handling of
their ill-fed, overburdened beasts, have joined in the "better