freezes between the toes, and if not 
removed will soon cause a sore and lameness. Then a dog moccasin 
must be put on and the foot continually nursed and doctored. When 
several dogs of a team are thus affected, it may be with several feet 
each, the labour and trouble of travel are greatly increased. 
So, whenever his dogs have been through water, the careful musher 
will stop and go all down the line, cleaning out the ice and snow from 
their feet with his fingers. Four interdigital spaces per foot make 
sixteen per dog, and with a team of six dogs that means ninety-six 
several operations with the bare hand (if it be done effectually) every 
time the team gets into an overflow. The dogs will do it for themselves 
if they are given time, tearing out the lumps of ice with their teeth; but, 
inasmuch as they usually feel conscientiously obliged to eat each lump 
as they pull it out, it takes much longer, and in a short daylight there is 
little time to spare if the day's march is to be made. 
[Sidenote: "OVERFLOW" ICE] 
We found overflow almost as soon as we reached the Chatanika River, 
and in one form or another we encountered it during all the two days 
and a half that we were pursuing the river's windings. At times it was 
covered with a sheet of new ice that would support the dogs but would 
not support the sled, so that the dogs were travelling on one level and 
the sled on another, and a man had to walk along in the water between 
the dogs and the sled for several hundred yards at a time, breaking 
down the overflow ice with his feet. 
At other times the thin sheets of overflow ice would sway and bend as 
the sled passed quickly over them in a way that gives to ice in such 
condition its Alaskan name of "rubber-ice," while for the fifteen or
twenty miles of McManus Creek, the headwaters of the Chatanika, we 
had continuous stretches of fine glare ice with enough frost crystals 
upon it from condensing moisture to give a "tooth" to the dogs' feet, 
just as varnish on a photographic negative gives tooth to the retouching 
pencil. Perfectly smooth ice is a very difficult surface for dogs to pass 
over; glare ice slightly roughened by frost deposit makes splendid, fast 
going. 
Eighty-five miles or so from Fairbanks, and just about half-way to 
Circle, the watercourse is left and the first summit is the 
"Twelve-Mile," as it is called. We tried hard to take our load up at one 
trip, but found it impossible to do so, and had to unlash the sled and 
take half the load at a time, caching it on the top while we returned for 
the other half. 
It took us half a day to get our load to the top of the Twelve-Mile 
summit, a rise of about one thousand three hundred feet from the creek 
bed as the aneroid gave it. In the steeper pitches we had to take the axe 
and cut steps, so hard and smooth does the incessant wind at these 
heights beat the snow, and on our second trip to the top we were just in 
time to rescue a roll of bedding that had been blown from the cache and 
was about to descend a gully from which we could hardly have 
recovered it. 
This summit descended, we were in Birch Creek water, and had we 
followed the watercourse would have reached the Yukon; but we would 
have travelled hundreds of miles and would have come out below Fort 
Yukon, while we were bound for Circle City. So there was another and 
a yet more difficult summit to cross before we could descend the 
Yukon slope. We were able to hire a man and two dogs to help us over 
the Eagle summit, so that the necessity of relaying was avoided. One 
man ahead continually calling to the dogs, eight dogs steadily pulling, 
and two men behind steadily pushing, foot by foot, with many 
stoppages as one bench after another was surmounted, we got the load 
to the top at last, a rise of one thousand four hundred feet in less than 
three miles. A driving snow-storm cut off all view and would have left 
us at a loss which way to proceed but for the stakes that indicated it.
The descent was as anxious and hazardous as the ascent had been 
laborious. The dogs were loosed and sent racing down the slope. With a 
rope rough-lock around the sled runners, one man took the gee pole and 
another the handle-bars and each spread-eagled himself through the 
loose deep snow to check the momentum of the sled, until sled    
    
		
	
	
	Continue reading on your phone by scaning this QR Code
 
	 	
	
	
	    Tip: The current page has been bookmarked automatically. If you wish to continue reading later, just open the 
Dertz Homepage, and click on the 'continue reading' link at the bottom of the page.
	    
	    
