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 hour to eat his lunch and the dogs that time to rest, but they were not unharnessed. In the middle of the afternoon the pace would slow down and some of the dogs would perhaps lag a little, but at Gene's cheery call to mush and at the crack of the whip they would spring into the harnesses again and go forward at a steady pace. But when the empty stomachs between their gaunt sides told them that the day's run was nearly over old Wolf would occasionally look over his shoulder at Gene to see if there were any signs of stopping. Then Gordet would begin looking for a likely place to camp. It must be sheltered if possible. That was about all they could expect. Finally he would select the place and the team would lie down in the snow to rest, their tongues often lolling out. Finally when the man had made up his mind he would drive the sled under the lee of the boulder or ledge, or perhaps into a deep thicket, and the dogs experienced the great luxury of having their harnesses taken off.