The journey to Gypsum Point was far from pleasant. The ice was bad, thin and treacherous but its most unpleasant aspect lay in the fact that it was badly “candled” that is, partially thawed and composed of nothing but thin needle like splinters which cut the dogs feet to pieces. We made shoes for them out of canvas, but I had to let them ride in the skiff, in turns, to ease their feet. It was terrible, forcing them to work when they were suffering. Leaving Gypsum Point at daybreak, we travelled as fast as we could, intending to cross the Lake, 66 miles, with only one night’s
