t; but something can always be found that
will serve to keep it going until the return to a better-stocked region.
In the winter of 1910-11, when there was such scarcity in the Iditarod,
it cost the writer thirty-nine dollars and fifty cents to feed seven
dogs for a week, and he has more than once been at almost a similar
charge in the Koyukuk. But in all his travels he has never yet been
unable to procure some sort of food for his dogs. At times they have
been fed for days on rabbits straight; at times on ptarmigan straight.

[Sidenote: THE REINDEER'S USEFULNESS]

Speaking broadly, the reindeer is a stupid, unwieldy, and intractable
brute, not comparing for a moment with the dog in intelligence or
adaptability. The common notion that his name is derived from the use of
reins in driving him, thus putting him in the class with the horse, is a
mistake; the word comes from a Norse root which refers to his
moss-browsing habit. The "rein" with which he is driven is a rope tied
around one of his horns. He has no cognisance of "gee" and "haw," nor of
any other vocal direction, but must be yanked hither and thither with
the rope by main force; while to stop him in his mad career, once he is
started, it is often necessary to throw him with the rope. In Lapland
there are doubtless individual deer better trained; the Lap herders tell
of them with pride; but in the main this is a just description of
reindeer handling. All the chief herders in Alaska are Laps, brought
over for their knowledge of the animals, and the writer has repeatedly
ridden behind some of their best deer.

Wherein, then, lies the success of the reindeer experiment in Alaska?
Chiefly in the provision of a regular meat supply by which the natives
and whites in the vicinity of a herd are relieved from the
precariousness of the chase or the rapacity of the cold-storage butcher
company. The Esquimau, having served his allotted apprenticeship of five
years and entered upon possession of a herd, can at any time kill and
dress a "kid of the flock" for his family or for the market. The price
of butcher's meat has been kept down all over the Seward Peninsula by
the competition of the numerous reindeer herds, to the comfort of the
population and the exasperation of the butcher company, and many an
Esquimau has become passably rich. The skin of the animal also furnishes
a warm and much-needed material for clothing and finds a ready sale at a
good price.

This success is