National Geographic : 1978 Sep
hacking a way through the ice and helping the dogs haul the sled. But how can I com plain? I have chosen to go alone of my own free will. That is the challenge, and I must meet it. During times of monotony the dogs are a diversion. No two have the same nature. There is the dog that always pulls to the right side, another that pulls dead center, and still another that pulls to the left. There is the dog that cries "Yap!" even when the whip does not touch it, and another that never cries, no matter how much it is whipped. Then there is the dog that begins pulling with all its might if I so much as raise my whip hand. And finally there is the dog that casts a side long glance at me while running, as if to say, "Can't you see I'm doing my best?" Now at last Shiro decides to have her pups. On the night of April 9 she begins to deliver, one pair outside the tent. These are eaten by the other dogs before I am able to reach them. Then, inside the tent, comes another batch, four this time, one dead, and the re maining three make their first cry of "Mew!