The first thing necessary was to get dogs enough for our teams. To that
end I made a visit to the land of the Kinnepatoos, which is about
seventy miles west and north from Marble Island. I found them in
igloos, upon a large lake on the western shore of Hudson Bay, and was
the first white man who had been there. Many of this tribe had never
seen a white man before, but all were exceedingly friendly. I found
that they had but few available dogs, but succeeded in securing from
them several fine animals by the exchange of ammunition, tobacco, and
matches, which are the staples of trade with these people. I found
their igloos to be much larger and better built than those of
the northern natives. The entrance would usually be by a narrow
passage-way, excavated from a snow-drift, six to eight feet below the
surface, and perhaps twenty-five or thirty feet long. They had no
fires for heating the igloos, and, consequently, there was a clammy,
vault-like atmosphere indoors that was anything but pleasant. They use
oil only for light, and, even in the depth of winter, cook what little
food they do not eat raw with moss. As I approached the village I was
walking ahead of my guides, who were with the sled. It was getting
late, and we were endeavoring to trace the direction by following the
tracks on the snow which covered the lake; but a high wind, which was
blowing from the north, had nearly obliterated all signs and rendered
the task a difficult one. Presently, however, I heard the barking of
dogs and the voices of a number of children, who soon appeared
approaching over a hill on the right bank of the lake, beyond which the
village was built. I hastened toward them, and was shortly conducted
into an igloo where all the men were seated, tailor fashion, around
bones which showed that justice had been done to a hearty repast of
frozen deer meat. They extended a rude but cordial welcome, and
hospitably inquired if I was hungry; but as I had recently eaten a