Winter and Summer Travelling with Dogs

Idlers—Free Fights—Packing Dogs—The 'Travaille' preferable—How to make and use a Travaille—The 
Sleigh and Tobogan—Bone Rings and Toggles—The Way to Harness your Team^—A long Whip 
desirable—Precautions against Rheumatism—Sure Bind Sure Find—Feeding Dogs—Sore Feet—
Merry-Bells

In summer, dogs carry their loads on their backs packed on small pads; in winter they are harnessed to light sleighs;
then the wanderer must protect his feet as already pointed out, tie on his snow-shoes, and tramp over the frozen 
rivers and snow-covered plains, either ahead of or beside his team of dogs. 

It is a pretty and a cheery sight in summer-time, when the hills are hidden beneath the leafy trees, and the valleys
are decked with wild flowers, to watch a team of dogs trotting briskly along, each with its little load. Now and then 
one presumes to stop, in order to regale itself with a good sniff at some attractive perfume, or to lap, perchance, 
from out a tempting pool. Idlers such as these frequently get in the rear of their comrades; the sharp crack of the 
whip quickly recalls them; frightened, they scamper along to regain the train. If, however, the loads are not securely 
fastened on, the galloping usually results in scattering them along the trail. If you are angry, perhaps the 
misbehaving dog gets a taste of the thong before you repack it. 

A row is of constant recurrence when you are travelling with dogs; what they quarrel about no one can tell, but all at 
once, reckless of loads, two begin to fight; then the remainder, seeming to have each one an individual interest in 
the riot, join, until the whole team roll, snarl, and snap — a very heap of dogs. The whip must be used freely in 
order to restore peace and order. This sort of thing happens just as frequently when one is driving a team of dogs 
in a sleigh. If any two begin to fight the rest are certain to take part in it.

There are two systems of employing dogs for purposes of transport during the summer—the one I have just 
referred to, that of 'packing' the loads upon the animals' backs; the other plan is called 'the travaille.'

To 'pack' dogs is not by any means a good plan; they cannot carry heavy weights, neither are they able to bear 
tight girthing. The 'pack pads' are consequently continually slipping back over the dog's rump, and much time is
wasted in readjusting the pad and the load tied to it. The pad is simply a kind of leather cushion stuffed with horse 
or deer hair; no rule can be laid down as a guide to its right size, because that must entirely depend upon the build 
and character of the dog which is to wear it. The load must be fastened on precisely in the same way as loads are 
fastened to aparejos.

For summer work with dogs I prefer the 'travaille,' which is made in this way: two light sticks about an inch and a 
quarter in circumference must be procured, the straighter the better; measure from the dog's shoulder, and cut the 
sticks so that about four feet shall trail upon the ground behind the dog, or less than this if the dogs are small or 
weak; the ends at the shoulders must be fastened to a leather strap which should fit round the animal's neck like a 
collar. The portion of the sticks intended to trail upon the ground must be spread open by tying in cross-pieces. 

These pieces should vary in length, the shorter stick nearest the dog, the longer at the ends of the side poles; 
when completed, of course the 'travaille' is triangular in shape. The load is first fastened on with hide straps to the 
'travaille;' the dog is then brought up, its head slipped through the collar, and, with a stick on either side like the 
shafts of a cart, it tugs along the load with far greater ease than it could have carried it.

This 'travaille' will be found very useful applied to horses when no pack-saddles are obtainable. I need hardly say 
that dogs should never be employed in the summer if horses are procurable. For winter transport dogs are 
absolutely essential; they trot over the snow without breaking the crust (the frozen top of the snow), that a heavier 
animal with hoofs would go through at every step. 

First, of the sleigh two patterns are usually employed; one of these is made with two 'runners,' the other is simply a
flat piece of wood turned up at each end. With a good firm 'crust' on the snow I prefer to use the sleigh with runners;
if, however, the snow is soft, then I like the flat sleigh, usually styled a 'tobogan,' the better of the two. 

The size of a dog-sleigh must, of course, be entirely regulated by the quantity of goods, or other things the 
wanderer has to put on it, and the number of dogs he has to haul it; the lighter it can be built, consistent with a due 
amount of strength, the better. To give detailed directions as to the way to make a sleigh would be only a waste of 
time; a little ingenuity is what the wanderer needs, having which, an axe, a knife, and some strips of hide are the 
only things he will require (if sticks are to be got) to build a sleigh of any size and pattern. 

To harness dogs well, you will require practice. Let us suppose a sleigh to be packed, and awaiting the team. A 
piece of hide is fastened exactly midway betwixt the forepart of the runners; to this loop the harness is attached. Six 
dogs make up a fair average team, and before I go farther with my directions for harnessing, let me advise all who 
use dogs for sleighing to saw off forty or more rings from marrowbones (the shin-bones of either moose or wapiti 
deer answer best) during the summer; (if you have no saw, notch a knife,) also, during your leisure, cut out a good
quantity of 'toggles,' from either rib or leg-bones; by 'toggles' I mean round pieces of bone, made small enough to 
slip through the bone ring; the length of each toggle should exceed the diameter of the ring; a notch should be cut 
round the centre of the 'toggle,' to prevent the hide strap, when fastened to it, from slipping off; carry these rings 
and 'toggles' with you always during the winter travelling; you will find them invaluable for fastening the harness. 

Sleigh-gear put together with this simple contrivance can be taken to pieces, lengthened or shortened, without the
slightest trouble; knots are apt to slip when the hide gets wet, and when dry it is impossible to untie them. To 
harness seven dogs abreast in Esquimaux fashion, one strap, say eight feet in length, should extend from the 
sleigh-runners; to the end of this strap a second loop of hide is affixed — (in cutting hide strips for harness adopt 
the plan already explained for making lassoos) — to which each dog is separately made fast; a single trace suffices
for each dog; the centre dog should have its trace rather longer than the others. It is always best to give dogs 
plenty of trace length, as it enables them to spread when pulling. A collar of hide, which should be bound round
with soft bark or cloth, fits round each dog's neck; a trace comes from either side of the collar, two other straps,
known respectively as the back and belly band, keep these lateral traces from slipping up or falling down. 

Immediately behind the dog the two traces are joined and one strap only is used. When ready to start, all the 
traveller has to do is to fasten, in the first place, the long strap to the sleigh, next the six traces to the loop at the 
end of it, taking care that the longest trace is in the centre. 

Spread out all the collars, and as the dogs, one by one, are led up, slip a collar over the head of each and fasten 
the belly strap (it does not take six minutes to harness seven dogs); the largest and strongest animals must work in 
the centre, the smallest and weakest on the flanks. Some travellers prefer to use their dogs, side by side, in pairs, 
but I do not think they work nearly so well as they do abreast: the leading dogs get crafty and skulk their work, and it
is not easy to see, when dogs are pulling in pairs, if each is doing its fair share of the work. When abreast all the 
traces are visible; a slack one at once detected and the skulker gets a touch of the whip for being an idler.

A very long whip is handy, because down hill or on slippery ice the traveller may feel disposed to rest his legs by 
sitting on the sleigh. To reach the dogs a thong of hide will be required not less than twenty-five feet long, a handle 
about two feet in length is all-sufficient; a little practice will enable you to strike either of the dogs with unerring 
certainty. 

Be very careful when you camp to tether your dogs securely with a short hair-rope; fasten them to trees if you can, 
if there are no trees drive in pickets; a hide rope would be chewed in two directly. Never give a dog more rope at 
night than will enable it to lie down, and do not forget to have a square piece of buffalo or deer hide for each dog to 
sleep on; this helps to prevent rheumatism, a malady that too frequently disables sleigh-dogs; these hide mats add 
nothing of any consequence to the weight of the load, and very much to the comfort of the dogs.

However quiet and faithful my dogs may be, I never trust them at night; they are often induced to follow lady wolves 
or coyotes, and you may have either to wait days for the prodigal's return or lose him altogether. 'Sure bind sure 
find' applies most pertinently to sleigh dogs. 

Feeding your dogs must in great measure be regulated by chance; if game is plentiful there is no difficulty, or if fish 
of any kind is obtainable. They do their work well upon a ration per day, and soon learn to devour it greedily; but if 
the traveller has any idea when he starts upon a journey that game will be scarce, he must take a supply of either 
dried flesh or frozen fish. My rule, and I am sure from long practice it is a good one, is only to feed my dogs at night 
when I camp; then if I have enough I let them eat as much as they please, but it is fatal to good travelling to allow 
them any food in the morning — they work lazily, and often lie down.

Dogs travelling on snow which has been frozen after a thaw frequently become very sore-footed; the best plan in 
this dilemma is to put leather moccasins upon their feet; these are easily kept on by tying them round the leg above 
the false or 'dew claw.' I always put on the dog's moccasins (merely bags made of leather or stout hide) if I 
anticipate rough travelling, on the principle that prevention is far better than a cure. A string of bells to go round 
each dog's neck is a great addition, although of no particular use; the jingling music of the bells is always a welcome
sound, a merry peal that seems to cheer alike the faithful dogs and their solitary master. 

To protect the eyes against the blinding effects of the sun-rays, which are reflected from the snow when travelling 
over it, is a difficulty no plan with which I am familiar will entirely surmount. I have twice suffered terribly from snow 
blindness, and to this hour my left eye has never recovered its damaging effects. The Esquimaux use large 
goggles, and there are snow spectacles made, of various kinds and patterns, for arctic travellers; but I prefer, to all 
other expedients, (and I have tried a great many), wearing a green gauze veil, (which can be twisted round the hat 
when not required), and thoroughly blackening the forehead and all round the eyes with charcoal or soot before 
starting.

The black seems to absorb, or in some way temper, the glare of light, that no person can endure very long without 
growing temporarily blind, or suffering from intense inflammation of the eyes. Goggles and spectacles of all 
descriptions rapidly become frosted over, from the condensing of the vapour exhaled in respiring, and in this state, 
of course, are opaque, and require cleaning before further progress can be attempted. 

Though to a casual observer a team of dogs appear to be huddled together without any regard to order or 
regularity, nevertheless a skilled traveller pays very marked attention to the disposal of his dogs. The leading dog is
the one by which all the others are guided and directed; sometimes they diverge, spread out and quarrel; but a 
gentle touch or two of the whip soon brings them all together again. Many untrained dogs are constantly getting 
entangled by darting under the traces of the others, in order to avoid the whip. 

With a good leading dog there is not the slightest difficulty in keeping a track; if there is the faintest mark of a 
sleighrunner or snow-shoe visible, the dog keeps his nose down to the snow, and goes as true as a hound upon
scent; if there is no track, and you are riding on the sleigh, some caution is requisite to drive the dogs in the
direction you intend travelling. When you desire to halt you call out, 'Ah! woa; ah! woa;' but if homeward bound, the 
dogs often exhibit a disagreeable spirit of rebellion, and obstinately refuse to stop. Then both your heels must be 
employed as breaks; forced into the snow, they soon bring the team to a standstill; but remember one thing; never 
get out of the sleigh unless you keep one or both legs firmly planted against the front bar or rail of the sleigh. 

Sleigh dogs are the most crafty animals imaginable, and are ever on the watch for a chance to escape. If once they 
get clear with the sleigh, you will have to be pretty light of heel if you catch them until they reach camp. When your 
leg or legs are before the front bar, if they should make a sudden and unanticipated bolt, you have simply to fall 
upon the sleigh, and then you can soon bring the refractory team to their senses. If dogs are properly trained they 
ought to lie down at the word of command, and when you halt lay the whip lightly upon the head of each dog as you 
order it by name to lie down. A very little training is sufficient to make the dogs understand what you require them to 
do. 

With good sleighing, when the 'crust' is hard and smooth, seven good dogs will easily draw eight hundred weight, at 
the rate of seven miles an hour, and this for five hours at a stretch; with a very light load, good dogs will accomplish 
ten miles an hour.

In Canada, the system of working dogs in sleighs, or tobogans, is invariably to harness them in pairs side by side, 
although for very light loads single dogs are often employed. By this simple mode of conveyance, all the mails,
parcels, and dispatches are transported over the ice in Canada, during the winter, from Montreal to the head of
Lake Superior. Some person who understands the work, makes a contract with the Government for the transmission
of the mails, during the winter, throughout all the Lake districts. On Lakes Huron and Superior the actual transport is
sub-let to Indians and half-breeds, who travel on snow shoes and pack the mail bags upon light sleighs, which 
sleighs are usually tugged along by six dogs, worked in pairs side by side, providing relays, and, at the same time, 
being perfect masters in the art of travel, these mail carriers manage to transport the letters at the average rate of 
about sixty miles a day.

I once passed a bitterly cold winter at the Bruce mines — copper mines situated on the north shore of Lake Huron, 
nearly opposite to San Joseph's Island. Winter begins in this icy region about the beginning of October, and after 
the ice is fairly 'set' on the lakes, all communication with the rest of the world is entirely cut off (excepting dog sleighs
and snow shoes are used by the traveller) until May in the year following. All the carcasses of sheep, pigs, and 
bullocks, killed and stored for the support of the miners and their families during the winter, are exposed to the air 
until frozen as hard as marble, then they are hung up in large sheds, built for the purpose, to be consumed as 
required; the freezing is a perfect preservative; meat, so prepared, if prevented from thawing, will keep sound and 
sweet for years. To be eaten, a joint is chopped off with an axe, soaked in tepid water until thawed, and then cooked
in any manner best suited to the tastes of those who intend to consume it.

It is hardly possible to picture a more weird scene of desolation than a wide expanse of frozen lake, covered with 
snow, presents to the eye, more especially when, journeying during the night, a course usually followed, if there 
happens to be a sufficiency of light to discover the track; because it is much less trying to the eyes by night than it is
during the day, and the risk of snow blindness is very considerably diminished. Nothing seems to retain any sign of
reality as one tramps along over the snowy waste, the dogs trotting after jingling their bells. The silvery moon pours 
her streams of pale light upon the snow, and the rays, instead of being absorbed or reflected, seem in a mysterious 
manner to accumulate, until one is tempted to fancy himself splashing through a shallow lake of light. Every visible 
object appears transformed into something intangible and unreal; the tracks upon the snow grow into huge 
proportions; trees along the lake shore line resemble giants in children's fairy tales; a hillock of drift takes on the 
form of a mountain; now one fancies rippling water is just ahead, which turns out on a nearer approach to be snow, 
ridged by the breeze, reflecting light from off the polished facets of its myriad crystals; now you feel positive a deep 
ravine is in the way, the gloomy depths of which will have to be traversed; but the heart beats all the more lightly,
when the imaginary cleft resolves itself into the heavy shadow of a passing cloud. Silence, like a guardian spirit, 
hovers with muffled pinions over all, and the ear fails to catch the faintest sounds, save the steady rhythm of the 
panting dogs, the cheery tinkle of their tiny belfry, and the steady crunch, crunch, as the snowshoes splinter the icy 
crust.

Many and many a night have I travelled through scenes like these on the frozen surface of Lake Huron.

It was always a kind of holiday with everybody when the 'mail' was descried, a mere speck at first, coming over the 
snow towards the mine. The men left their work, the women and children their warm stoves, to group together upon 
the landing-place where the sleigh tracks led off across the lake, there to await the advent of good or evil news from
home, as it might be.

To harness dogs to work in pairs it is advisable to provide each dog with a trace of its own; the collar, back and belly
straps, the harness, in other words, is the same as that used for driving dogs abreast; a single trace should extend 
from each dog to the loop or tug strap affixed to the runner. It is a bad plan to fasten the traces of the two leading 
dogs to the harness of the next pair, and so on to the hindermost. Dogs pulling directly from the sleigh can draw a 
greater weight than if attached to one another; they also work more good temperedly, and are less disposed to 
quarrel.

To tramp well on snow shoes is by no means a very easy art to acquire; it is one thing to tell a novice the proper 
way to walk with snow shoes on his feet, and another to enable him to do it when the right way is learned. The snow
-shoe I usually employ is about three feet ten inches in length, and eleven inches in width, but the size must be 
governed in a great degree by the hardness or softness of the snow; the softer the snow, of course the larger must 
be the surface of the snow-shoe to prevent sinking. The outer frame is made of bent hardwood; the centre part that 
rests on the snow, and upon which the foot is placed, is a lattice work made of thongs or strips of raw hide.

A skilled performer never stoops to strap on his snow shoes with his hands, but simply twists his feet into the loops 
of the shoes, and trudges away. An inspection of the illustration will show a small hole nearer to the toe than the 
heel of the snow-shoe; in this hole the toes of the traveller play a very important part in the performance of snow-
shoe walking. When the foot is advanced the snow-shoe is carried on resting upon the front of the foot just where 
the toes are articulated, when the advanced foot is planted on the ground in order to bring up the other; the shoe is
slipped from off the toes, and the foot stands firmly upon the lattice work. In order thus to catch up and drop the 
shoes quickly, great practice is needed. The shoe is never carried entirely clear of the ground; the heel trails, and 
leaves a mark like a line upon the snow. One can tell at a glance the snow-shoe track of a novice from that of a 
skilled performer; the prints upon the snow made by the former are irregular, and not equidistant; the heel trace is
wavy, sometimes cut deeply into the snow, at others barely touching it, whilst every here and there a jumble of 
tracks clearly evidence a scramble, perhaps a fall.

A favourite pattern of snow-shoe with the Indians east of the Rocky Mountains is what is termed the 'bear's foot' 
pattern, a small snow-shoe nearly circular in form, but made precisely on the same plan as the longer ones; they
answer very well, if the crust is hard, for short journeys, and they are quickly and easily made. A snow-shoe walker 
can cover a great many miles of ground in a day when he once acquires the habit or art, whichever it be, of 
swinging one foot well clear of the other, and taking long striding steps. Beware of dogs following you if walking on 
snow shoes; if they step on the heel of your shoe the chances are you go head first upon the snow; and let me tell 
you it is by no means an easy feat to regain your perpendicular when you have large snow shoes fastened to your 
feet.

I have previously given the requisite instructions for protecting the feet against frost-bite, which, by the way, is best 
cured by briskly rubbing the frosted part with snow. Four times in my experience of cold regions I have seen men 
lose both their feet from the effects of frost, and I saw a man lose his nose, and several times I have known fingers 
and thumbs, from the same cause, require amputating, to save the life of the individual.

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