But the whip was the most remarkable part of the equipage. The handle
was only sixteen inches in length, but the lash was twenty _feet_ long,
made of the toughest seal-skin, and as thick as a man's wrist near the
handle, whence it tapered off to a fine point. The labour of using such
a formidable weapon is so great that Esquimaux usually, when
practicable, travel in couples, one sledge behind the other. The dogs of
the last sledge follow mechanically and require no whip, and the riders
change about so as to relieve each other. When travelling, the whip
trails behind, and can be brought with a tremendous crack that makes the
hair fly from the wretch that is struck; and Esquimaux are splendid
_shots_, so to speak. They can hit any part of a dog with certainty, but
usually rest satisfied with simply cracking the whip--a sound that
produces an answering yell of terror, whether the lash takes effect or
not.

Our hunters were clothed in their Esquimau garments, and cut the oddest
imaginable figures. They had a soft, rotund, cuddled-up appearance, that
was powerfully suggestive of comfort. The sledge carried one day's
provisions, a couple of walrus harpoons with a sufficient quantity of
rope, four muskets with the requisite ammunition, an Esquimau
cooking-lamp, two stout spears, two tarpaulins to spread on the snow,
and four blanket sleeping-bags. These last were six feet long, and just
wide enough for a man to crawl into at night, feet first.

"What a jolly style of travelling, isn't it?" cried Fred, as the dogs
sprang wildly forward, tearing the sledge behind them, Dumps and Poker
leading and looking as lively as crickets.

"Well now, isn't it true that wits jump?--that's jist what I was sayin'
to meself," remarked O'Riley, grinning from ear to ear as he pulled the