Eskimo Dogs “All but forgotten and now near extinction”
Reprinted from Dogs in Canada – January 1976
By William J. Carpenter.

The Eskimo dog, having attained fame and recognition as part of the Thule-Inuit culture and in the exploratory and scientific expeditions into Canada’s North and other polar regions, is “today in 1975” on the brink of extinction. It is on this note that I will commence to discuss my personal involvement in a research project aimed at saving this noble breed from extinction. My work will include both the standardization of the breed through a scientific breeding program and the compilation of a complete breed history or monograph.

From recent experience I have discovered that before I commence a detailed review of my project, it is always necessary to provide some background on the Eskimo dog for many people will exclaim “Eskimo dog, I’ve never heard of the breed!”

The Eskimo dog (Canis familiaris borealis) or Kingmik as he was known to the Inuit of our northern regions, is one of three indigenous breeds of dogs found in Canada. The literature indicates that the Eskimo dog likely arrived in the polar regions of Canada same 1100 to 2000 years ago with the Thule migration of Inuit. The animal was therefore previously found across the Arctic coast to Greenland and from Baffin Island to Labrador. This noble dog should not be confused with the Alaskan Malamute nor the smaller and sometimes blue-eyed Siberian Husky, both being breeds very popular in the modern-day world. Many people, however, incorrectly refer to the three northern breeds as Huskies.

Allen in his classic paper of 1920 entitled “Dogs of the American Aborigines” viewed the Eskimo dog not only as one of 17 distinct types or breeds of dogs which belonged to inhabitants of the Americas at the time of white man’s contact, but classified the Eskimo dog in a distinct group by itself while only two other groups differentiated the 16 other breeds.

The Canadian Kennel Club some 85 years ago, at the time of the club’s inception, recognized the Eskimo dog as an aboriginal breed of dog. The breed standard for the Eskimo as found in the CKC standard for “Working Dogs” describes the dog in terms identical to those of both Allen (1920) or J. G. Children who in 1827wrote what is now recognized as the first scientific paper on the Eskimo dog.

The Eskimo dog is a sturdy and majestic-looking dog weighing from 65 to 85 pounds for males and slightly less for females. The average height at the shoulder extends from a low of 20 inches for females to as high as 28 inches for large males. The animal on the whole, has a powerful physique with a thick neck, broad chest and strong muscular legs. The feet are densely furred. The Eskimo dog has a thick pelage or coat with a shorter under fur and guard hair of three or four inches which may grow longer in a mane-like appearance over the neck and shoulders. The ears of the dog are thick erect and pointed while the eyes are small and deep-set. In a healthy and active state the dog holds this thick plume-like tail high and acutely curled. The colours and colour combinations of the Eskimo dog range through white; grey; black on white; red or buff; red on white; and red black or grey patch on head around ears with white body. Also typical are white eyebrow spots in the dark fur mask of dark-coloured dogs. The Inuit refer to these as Takoolik.

Viewing the dog as I do, one can observe an animal marvellously adapted to Arctic conditions. The Eskimo dog is not designed for speed but rather is likely the strongest dog and possesses the most stamina in relation to his weight. He can live on raw meat alone and because of his reserve strength, can go for several days without food while still drawing up to 120 pounds while in harness. With proper feed, teams of Eskimo dogs have been known to haul 110 pounds per dog on journeys lasting 40 days, covering 20 to 40 miles per day. Fuchs (1951) found that nine dog teams could pull up to 1450 pounds or 160-pounds per dog.

The noted northern explorer Peary stated ” The Eskimo dogs are sturdy, magnificent animals; there may be larger dogs than these, there may be handsomer dogs, other dogs may work as well or travel fast and far when fully fed, but there is no dog in the world that can work so long in the lowest temperatures on practically nothing to eat … ”

In spite of his strength, stamina and survival ability the breed as a whole is playful and sub missive and exhibits such familiar traits as tail wagging and leg rubbing. The Eskimo dog does have certain primitive characteristics, however, and his instinctive approach to ripping and tearing his food as well as his wolfish appetite could fit well into this description. A well-fed Eskimo dog will, for example., ferociously devour a four to five pound fish in about two minutes.

With an animal such as the Eskimo dog spread across the Canadian North and traditionally used by the Inuit, it is little wonder that early explorers and scientists utilized this animal during polar expeditions. Besides, the animal was an all-round worker, having played the role of not only a draft animal but as a pack dog, carrying up to 40 pounds, and as a hunting dog for the Inuit. The latter use found him sniffing out seal-breathing holes for his Inuit master or aggressively holding the polar beat at bay during hunts.

Expedition use of the Eskimo dog brought him not only into demand and respect but put him under the eyes of the scientific community. This latter group studied and researched this marvellous dog during the 1800s and until the 50s in the 1900s. In addition to expedition work in the Canadian North the Eskimo dog has seen service in the exploration of the Antarctic. The British, for example, used Eskimo dogs in their Falkland Islands Dependencies Survey and acquired dogs from both Canada and Greenland.

American and New Zealand Antarctic expeditions also used Eskimo dogs and found them far superior to other breeds.

The Canadian Defence Research Board, during their scientific studies’ in the Lake Hazen area of northern Ellesmere Island from 1957 to 1959, used Eskimo dogs both for sledging and packing. One pack trip in particular covered a distance of 200 miles from Hazen Camp to Alert and back.

With an active history going back some 2000 years it is hard to imagine that ”today in 1976″ the Eskimo dog’ is a breed very near extinction.

My interest in this breed is not new, for I recall first learning of the Eskimo dog back in 1956 and 1957 as a member of the Alberta Kennel Club and the Calgary Kennel and Obedience Club. Instructional classes were held and the history and status of various breeds were presented to those of us who were junior members. The majestic and dominant look of the Eskimo dog was something I did not forget. Fourteen years later, in 1971, I found myself living in the Northwest Territories working as a biologist for the Territorial Government.

Over those 14 years my interest in dogs in general continued and my hobby centered around raising and training Springer Spaniels for field trial competition. However, once in the Northwest Territories, I was exposed to the working sled dog.

My first observation was to note the distinct difference between the types of dogs used by the Indian people of the boreal forest region as compared to those dogs used by the Inuit of the coastal areas and barrenlands. The dogs of the Inuit, although showing some variation, in general appeared very similar. I also noted during my first two years, that a dramatic decline in numbers of sled dogs was occurring in many Inuit communities and settlements.

In 1972 I met John McGrath, then Economic Development Officer for the Government of the Northwest Territories in Spence Bay. John was not just an Economic Development Officer, for he had several hats to put on. I believe he was a Game Officer, a Coop Specialist, a Fisheries Officer and by special appointment, was viewed by some as the Art Director for the Central Arctic. I believe his business card stated “John McGrath, Pooh-bah of the Arctic”. You may wonder why all the reference to John, but it was he who started this entire project off. I believe our discussions on dogs began over a 40-ouncer of rum as most meetings with a Newfoundlander should be; but by midevening we both realized that the dog we were observing was in most cases, and for all intents and purposes, the Eskimo dog, and its numbers were crashing downwards by the day.

Within two months John acquired a few dogs and our search for more began. The cost of transportation in the North made it impossible to visit the communities, thus it was through friends and contacts in various locations that the project began. The search went ,as far west as Holman Island and Paulatuk and east to the east coast of Baffin Island. Sight unseen, I began purchasing dogs and by various means had them shipped to Yellowknife where by now I was living on the outskirts of town and built a kennel to

continue my hobby of raising spaniels. The results of my purchases were unfortunately disastrous, and Joho was not having any better luck. The influence of the Siberian Husky – Alaskan Malamute cross that the RCMP had introduced to the North was so significant that the dogs first obtained all displayed Siberian characteristics such as blue eyes or slender builds. The plan by the RCMP to introduce these exotic dogs for the purpose of replacing an aboriginal dog will later take up a chapter itself in the breed monograph. I can only state now that their plan was so much influenced by emotion, politics; and perhaps some wild desire to have matched teams, that it was mishandled from the beginning. To be overly critical would be rode, for likely those involved at the time thought they were doing the North a favour. They were not, however, as it simply added to the demise of the Eskimo dog.

While the search for Eskimo dogs continued in the North, I began to track down other sources. The breed was recognized by The Canadian Kennel Club and I was hopeful that in the south I could locate a few breeders who were raising pedigreed stock. This pedigreed stock would simply be several generations removed from Northern indigenous bloodlines and was from dogs accepted into the CKC stud book following export from the North during the early and mid-parts of this century.

“My contact at the Kennel Club, James W. Hueston, General Manager, was extremely interested in what I was setting out to do. In short order he conducted a review of their stud books to locate breeders and to provide background material for my research project.

My hope soon faded when I later learned from Mr. Hueston that the last Eskimo dogs to have been registered with the CKC were entered in 1965 and 1966. This put the youngest dogs at ten years of age if they were still alive. With the assistance of Mr. Hueston, I began to track down the people listed as former owners or breeders, again only to reach a dead-end as all reported they no longer had the Eskimo dog. Thus, technically, as far as the CKC records were concerned, the breed was gone. In the United States the breed was gone all together for it was back in the late 1950s that the American Kennel Club removed the Eskimo dog from its list of recognized working breeds.

By the Fall of 1974, things were beginning to show life in the Northwest Territories, as John McGrath had located some dogs among the Netsilik Inuit which appeared pheno-typically pure. Another individual in Yellowknife, Fred Negal, volunteered his assistance in selecting dogs while attending to some electrical contracts in remote Arctic coast settlements. Again success, as Fred returned with two magnificent specimens, a white male and a grey bitch. He also had pages of notes from discussions with elderly Inuit hunters who had used Eskimo dogs all their lives. We suddenly found that part of the key to success was locating outcamps or settlements that did not have the honour of receiving a Siberian-type team from the RCMP.

Time was against us, however, as with each passing week we heard of four or five more dogs being destroyed in settlements because they were no longer being used: Perhaps none of these were pure, but it would have been nice to select any that were.

Word about the project began to circulate in the North and one of the most remarkable finds came from Dave Turner, who has lived since 1939 in the Chantrey Inlet area, south of Spence Bay. Mr. Turner has always kept a few pure Eskimo dogs for breeding purposes to supply him with a team of dogs when required. Ten hours after running 50 miles behind a snowmobile to meet a plane in Spence Bay on charter to Poole Construction, his dogs were at my kennel. This was likely the turning point which made me realize the project could go ahead.

The next plateau was reached when I made contact with the Inummarit Cultural Society of the Baffin Region in the Northwest Territories. This group of Inuit were prepared to assist me in obtaining some Eskimo dogs from a remote corner of the North near the Melville Peninsula where the Eskimo dog was making his last stand. The only complication I saw was that of logistics. How would I ever manage to get into that part of the world, let alone bring the dogs out!

Several phone calls later, and after several delays, the problem was solved. Pacific Western Airlines, through the kind assistance of Harry Herbert, Public Relations Manager, agreed to freight the dogs from Resolute Bay to Yellowknife. Not only that, but I received two complimentary tickets for myself and Lynn Fowler, who agreed to assist me on the trip. Their contribution amounted to approximately $3000 and was certainly appreciated.

The Government of the Northwest Territories where I am employed, also was able to help by allowing me room on an existing charter with Kenting Aviation that was going from Resolute Bay as far as Igloolik on the Melville Peninsula.

The Inummarit Cultural Society continued to do their part and in particular, Joe Attagutaluk was most helpful with his ability to translate the details of my project into the Inuit dialect of the area. Michael Denker, of the Society, also gave a great deal of support to the project. The greatest contribution came from the Inuit men who owned some of the best Eskimo dogs in the world. I was given the opportunity to select, from their dogs, the best specimens which would form the foundation stock for the Eskimo dog project.

While in Resolute, I was able to locate other dogs as a grand Inuit gentleman by the name of “Idlout” was also aware of my project and offered to make available one of his best bitches. Idlout lives with his family group in an isolated corner of the world about 100 miles from Resolute Bay, and had travelled into Resolute by dog team.

It wasn’t long before others got in the picture. Polar Continental Shelf of Energy, Mines and Resources, agreed to look after some of the dogs as we shipped them into Resolute for transport to Yellowknife. In Resolute it was a grand moment as I stood in front of the PW A Boeing 727 with the co-pilot and 18 of the finest Eskimo dogs one could hope to find anywhere in Canada.

Hours later, I was in Yellowknife with the new dogs which, when added to the stock previously acquired, made a total of 41 Eskimo dogs. The project was to go ahead.

Dr. David Moont, a veterinarian from Calgary who is providing monthly veterinary service to Yellowknife through a clinic held at my kennel, was in Yellowknife a week later and we began vaccination an checking the dogs. David was amazed at the soundness of the dogs, and gave the opinion that we in deed had some excellent dogs to form the foundation stock.

Dr. Moont had become interested in the project following discussions with John McGrath and myself. Together we plotted out a breeding program aimed at bringing together the foundation or parent stock in such a manner that through the permutations and combinations available from the various matings, we would produce several different bloodlines. This, of course, would amount to a five year selective breeding program to which we were all committed.

The Canadian Kennel Club was advised of the breeding program and their support is currently being sought. Once the dogs have been bred through three generations with sufficient documentation on the dogs’ parentage, the breed of dogs known as the “Eskimo” will be re-registered with the Kennel Club, in part giving it the recognition it deserves.

In addition to registering the Eskimo dog, the final aim is to return some of the dogs to remote outcamps where the dog is needed. To reverse the picture, the Eskimo dog can then replace some of the cross-bred animals resulting from the previous RCMP program and from indiscriminate introduction of other outside breeds. At the end of the breeding project we hope to see about 250 to 300 animals which surely place the breed in a safer position than the imbalance that now exists.

It should be clarified that all dogs will be given away as the project terminates, and this is not to be seen as a commercial adventure. None of the dogs are, or will be, for sale.

With the advise of the CKC, selected numbers of Eskimo dogs will be placed in the hands of top Canadian dog breeders who can guarantee the continued breeding of pedigreed stock. The balance of the Eskimo dogs will remain in the North where they belongs.

All this sounds easy, but there are real problems. For example, the dogs devour about $70 worth of feed per week. They require general care and attention, all of which takes time. Large chain link holdings pens are desperately required and although for the summer I placed 2 0dogs on an island near Yellowknife, the pens will be required for new pups and to hold the adult dogs in the winter. Purchasing the dogs to date has cost me a total of $3500.

Ralston Purina of Canada Limited have recently given their support to the project and will be supplying a very much needed 10.000 pounds of hiprotein Purina Dog Meal.

A real break came when the City of Yellowknife provided a large piece of property at a price nominal lease of $25 per year. The property is ideally suited to our needs and will accommodate large pens. The City also gave their written support to the Eskimo dog project.

Recently, Connaught Laboraties advised Dr. Moont that they supply vaccines for the dogs, thus alleviating another added expense. We are also hoping to see research people from either Guelph Veterinary College or the University of Saskatchewan Veterinary College take advantage of the project, for it will provide the rare opportunity to study an aboriginal breed of dog free from many genetic defects such as hip dysplasia found in modern breeds.

Financial assistance for the project to date has come from private individuals across Canada. The amounts of money received, while greatly appreciated, have been small as compared to the expenses. My plans are to apply for research grants to enable me to complete the project and thus not only prevent the extinction of this noble breed of dog, but to document its complete history as it relates to the culture of the Inuit and in its role in polar exploration.

The Department of Indian and Northern Affairs can rest assured that they will receive an application from me for funds for the project, as can Canada Council. The latter agency has already contacted me regarding the project and I am looking forward to positive results in the near future.

As a final word on the Eskimo dog project, 1978 will be a year of true recognition. Approximately 36 dogs from the project will be flown on loan to Scott Base in the Antarctic where they, along with six men under the direction of Ivan McDonald of New Zealand, will attempt the first foot crossing of the Antarctic continent.

My final word to you, as Canadians, is that the project desperately needs your support. All I ask is that now, in the midst of major northern development, someone should stop and help out in a project that will not only recognize, but perhaps hold on to some of that cultural past that was so important only a few short years ago, to both the Inuit and white Northerners. The Eskimo dog (Canis familiaris borealis) deserves at least a place in modern Canada, and should not be forced into extinction. Please help me in my attempt to retain the Eskimo dog.

Got this from the website rom Matty McNair and het Northwinds company:

Past Film Work Supported by NorthWinds

BBC “Top Dogs”
Ran Fiennes introduces Robin Knox Johnson and John Simpson to his polar world
Eric McNair-Landry organizes support and features as local expert
10 days of filming

BBC “Top Gear”
Matty McNair and Richard Harmond race NorthWinds dog team against James to the Magnetic North Pole
7 days of training with Richard, 6 days of filming race

“Angry Plant” with George
Polar Training with host George Kourounis, Paul Hubner and 13 year old son Ryan, followed by dog sled adventure into Auyuittuq National Park
Matty McNair and Eric McNair Landry leading dog sled expedition
7 days of filming, March 2009

CBC “On The Road Again” Wayne Ronsdat – Canada Day Special
15 minute feature of Matty McNair & sled dogs in the Arctic
12 days of filming; 4 person crew; April

Lonely Planet “Arctic Canada ”
15 minute feature of NorthWinds’ dog sled expedition from Iqaluit to Kimmirut
5 days of filming; 5 person crew; March
with NorthWinds staff: Denise Martin

Turner Movies “Honour & Glory”
2 hour film featuring Robert Peary & Mathew Henson’s North Pole expeditions
provided & managed 5 dog teams
3 weeks of filming; 150 person crew; April/May

BBC “Wilderness Walks” – Triple Echo Production, UK
30 minute feature of Matty McNair & dog sled expedition from Iqaluit to Kimmirut
Host: Robert McNeish
5 days of filming; 8 person crew; March

Nugalak’s Light
30 minute children’s film featuring an Inuit boy’s use of a dog team
7 days of filming; 15 person crew; March
Matty managed dog team

Canadian Geographic “Dogs of the Midnight Sun”
30 minute documentary of the Canadian Inuit Dog
2 days of filming; 4 person crew; June
Matty interviewed

Arctic Winter Games “Opening & Closing Film”
Dog sled travel in the Arctic
3 days of filming; 5 person crew; February
Matty managed dog team

CBC “ Sesame Street ”
Dog sled feature
1 day of filming; 8 person crew; April
Kids with Matty

CBC “Popular Mechanics for Kids”
Dog sled feature
1 day of filming; 5 person crew; April
with Matty

BBC “Snow”
3 days of filming; 5 person crew; January
Logistical support

BBC “Serious Arctic ” 2004
3 weeks filming with the BBC
Matty dog sledding with kids
Oversaw 4 dogs teams, their drivers, and the safety of the program

Kardluk, Barttlet 2004
2 days of filming
Matty & Eric ran dog teams

published in Mushing Magazine (www.mushing.com)

March 1, 2010

Story by Genevieve Montcombroux

Entry in the author’s journal Resolute Bay, March 2, 2003

I’m moved by the untamed, stark simplicity of the North while I listen to its sounds: the ever-present sough of the wind, the continual swish of sled runners over packed snow, and the panting of the dogs, bent into their harnesses. Nothing brings such joy to my heart as my Canadian Inuit sled dogs. They belong to this arctic wilderness, as they have done for over four thousands years.

There was a time, not long ago, when this ancient breed of dog almost disappeared. Following the enforced settlement in the mid-twentieth century of the nomadic Inuit and the arrival of the snowmobile a couple of decades later, dog teams were no longer the vital form of transport they once were. Consequently, the dogs were abandoned. Yet, in scattered locations in the Canadian north, a few stubborn elders persisted in following the traditional way of life.

The decline in this once-proud breed cannot be blamed solely on their diminished usefulness. The establishment of government in the Northwest Territories (at that time encompassing all of Canada’s arctic region, apart from the Yukon Territory) saw an influx of dogs from southern Canada, which bred with the indigenous dogs. In the days when patrols of the fabled Royal Canadian Mounted Police crisscrossed the North by dogsled, the police deliberately crossbred the Inuit dog with Siberian Huskies to create a more manageable animal. By the early 1970s there were scarcely any pure bred Inuit dogs remaining in the Arctic.

Enter biologist Bill Carpenter and government official John McGrath. These two men witnessed the decline of the Canadian Inuit dog first hand and set out to re-establish the breed. Bill Carpenter gave a name to the project: Canadian Eskimo Dog Foundation & Research. Financial help came from many sources: government, airlines, the city of Yellowknife, businesses, and private individuals. Carpenter and McGrath contacted the Inuit still possessing pure teams. Fortunately, these traditional Inuit understood the need to preserve the breed and were willing to part with some of their best dogs. Carpenter and McGrath turned to the Canadian Kennel Club (CKC) in the belief that they needed the backing of this organization in order to validate the Canadian Inuit dog as a recognized breed. The hope that the CKC would help “save the breed” proved illusory. It should have been obvious to the well-meaning Carpenter-McGrath team that the free-spirited Canadian Inuit dog, with its varied coat ranging from pure white to pure black, through gray, red, roan, could never fit CKC requirements.

If we accept the claim that the domestic dog is descended from the wolf, then the Inuit dog is the wolf’s direct cousin. Like the wolf, the Inuit dog is pack oriented, with a boss dog at the head. Just as in the wolf pack, Inuit dogs have an alpha male and an alpha female. Below them, each dog takes his or her place, the ranking achieved by fighting. The Inuit dog fights with little provocation until the pack hierarchy is established. Usually, the boss dog is the strongest male, unless he lacks intelligence to match, in which case he may be outranked by a smaller but smarter pack member.

This wolf-like pack mentality makes it difficult to integrate a new adult male into an existing team. The author personally doesn’t attempt it, having seen a new, young dog being torn apart by the boss, aided and abetted by the rest of the pack. Whilst females often make the best lead dogs, instances occur where females become both boss and leader. The author had such female and, currently, that female’s great-granddaughter exhibits the same energetic no-nonsense approach to pack life and won’t let another dog lead, though she will tolerate her mother running next to her.

A boss dog is made not born. A casual observer might think that the pup who pushes aside its siblings to suckle first is going to be the boss, but that’s not always the case. By the end of their first year, the pups begin to jostle for pack position. What was play becomes a serious struggle for dominance. The mother will intervene only when play changes to real fight. In the author’s experience, the boss merely looks on from a distance. Later, he will begin to growl at the unruly pups and when he does, they roll on their backs in submission, uttering plaintive cries. At about this time, one pup will get to his feet to lick the boss’ muzzle. Other pups might follow suit but only because they are copying. Soon, that pup will follow the boss around, growling when he growls, sitting when he sits, and so on. This pup is learning the ropes to be the next boss dog. He’ll frequently try to assert an authority he doesn’t yet have over his brothers and sisters or any pup who has joined the pack. That’s when they accept him as number one and the jostling continues until position number two is determined, and so on.

By the time the young upstart is two years of age, the boss dog puts him squarely in his place, as well as the other young members of the pack. Life will go on amicably, fights being quickly put down by the boss. This system of pack governance continues until the boss dog isn’t as fast as he once was. More than likely, it’s the dog who, as a pup, learned from him who will jump the boss. In the ensuing scrap youth most likely prevails. The now deposed boss dog may be injured, sometimes seriously, and has to be removed from the pack for his safety. The position of boss dog is filled by the dominant younger dog.

By the mid1980s, Bill Carpenter gave up the breed recovery work he had undertaken. During the life of the program, he oversaw the breeding of several hundred Canadian Inuit dogs of pure heritage. Some of these were sent back to the high Arctic to revitalize the stocks. Others went to mushers and kennel owners in southern Canada and the northern United States. All these ‘southerners’ shared a common goal: the preservation of the Inuit dog its original, unadulterated form. Not all these efforts were successful, due primarily to a lack of knowledge and a misunderstanding of the specific requirements of the breed.

Up to this phase of its history, this uniquely Canadian breed had been labeled the ‘Canadian Eskimo dog,’ because the Inuit people themselves were called Eskimos. This was true until the 1977 Circumpolar Conference, held in Barrow, Alaska, when the name ‘Inuit’ was adopted in favor of the pejorative term Eskimo. This change, however, only applied to the people of the Arctic. Their dogs were still referred to as ‘Eskimo’ dogs, particularly by the CKC, who even to this days has not changed the name of the breed. The author campaigned to call the breed the ‘Canadian Inuit Sled dog.’ The move was not without some resistance, but gradually, the new name became widely accepted. It was also necessary to make a definite distinction from wolf-hybrids groups that adopted the name Inuit to disguise their cross-bred animals, which are banned in several countries, including some American states. Later, the name of the dog was shortened to Inuit Sled Dog (ISD) to include the Greenland dog, who shares the same roots as the Canadian dog.

In 1999, Canada created a new territory, named Nunavut, out of the eastern part of the Northwest Territories. The government of the new territory adopted the Inuit dog as its mammal emblem, using the official name ‘Canadian Inuit Dog’ out of recognition of the role the dog played in the traditional life of the Arctic’s indigenous people.

The Inuit dog was born to work and loves nothing better than to be in harness and pull, and pull. He also loves food and pays scant heed to any human fingers holding the morsel. The Inuit learned that fact long ago and usually fed their dogs by throwing them the meat. Yet, with correct handling, the dogs – females, particularly – are capable of surprising gentleness. In spite of their propensity to fight with other dogs, the Inuit Sled dog is affectionate toward humans. His size (90 lbs for a grown male, 60 lbs for a grown female) as well as his exuberance render him unsuitable as a pet. Even mushers experienced in managing other husky breeds, often fail in their attempt to keep Inuit dogs.

Racing enthusiasts prefer the faster Alaskan huskies over Inuit dogs. The latter is the quintessential freighting dog, capable of pulling loads over considerable distances under the harshest of conditions. Speedy he is not, with a cruising speed of some 8 km/ph (5 mph). Alaskan and Siberian huskies run at twice or three times that.

The Inuit sled dog has a majestic if somewhat disdainful air about him. He’s bigger than the Siberian Husky and slightly smaller than the present day Malamute. One striking feature of the Inuit dog is his broad, wedge-shaped head and rounded muzzle. His ears stand erect as early as three hours after birth, and are set well to the side of the head, leaving a wide forehead. His slanted eyes are small compared to the Siberian and Malamute, and are almond shaped. Eye color is always brown of one shade or another – a light amber in the red or white dogs, dark brown in dogs with predominantly black coats. They are never blue or any shade of blue-green.

This color indicates breed contamination. Other Inuit dog characteristics are the large muscular chest and powerful shoulders, which contribute to his prowess as a puller of heavy loads. The paws are solid, heavily furred, and spread wide on the snow to ensure a firm grip. His magnificent bushy tail curls low on the rump and is used to keep the nose warm when the dog curls up in the snow. He has a thick coat with guard hair, varying in length from 8 cm (3¼ in) to 15 cm (6 in), and a dense undercoat. The Inuit didn’t breed their dogs for coat color. As a result the color hasn’t been fixed. The only color characteristic is a white belly and tail tip.

In keeping with other husky breeds, the Inuit dog howls. His howl is very close to that of a wolf. A pack of wolves on the author’s property will howl in unison for a few minutes in the night and is answered by a corresponnding howl from the dogs. It’s sometimes difficult to know who’s responding to whom.

When the Inuit people followed a nomadic life, their dogs were free to roam the encampment. Once the hierarchy was established in the pack, there was only minor fighting as long as the boss dog was strong enough to maintain order. Once permanent settlements were established and it was made compulsory to picket dogs teams, their temperament altered. The inability to sort out their differences by a fight made the dogs more belligerent. The moment they were hitched to the qamutik (komatik) they would engage in the fight they’d been spoiling for but deprived of. Lack of freedom created boredom. This could explain why humans, particularly children, who accidently blunder into a dog yard are mauled, sometimes with disastrous consequences. Skilled mushers socialize their dogs from birth and continue that socialization every day, even when the dogs are much older. This doesn’t mean the dogs will become as tame as pet spaniels, but they will become more responsive to commands.

The Inuit dog learns easily, but because of his stubborn temperament, will decide whether to obey or not. This can be infuriating to an impatient owner. To his credit, the moment the dog is in harness and hitched to the sled, he’ll usually obey willingly, unless of course they know something that the musher does not. The author recalls times when her lead dog refused to follow a trail across a lake and made a lengthy detour around it. The lake had patches of thin ice on it.

All dogs, whether a pampered Chihuahua or an Inuit sled dog, have to learn to behave toward humans and other dogs. This is even more important in the case of the naturally pugnacious Inuit dog. Most of the common breeds are breeds achieved through targeted genetic selection (including inbreeding) over long periods of time. In contrast to the Alaskan husky or the German Shepherd, both man-made breeds, the Inuit dog has been bred randomly for as long as the Inuit peoples have inhabited the Arctic.

During the short arctic summers, the Inuit frequently let their dog teams run free on small islands and still do in certain locations. This gave the dogs an opportunity to refine their hierarchical structure. They hunted small game if there was any on the island to supplement the rations their owner brought at intervals by boat. If pups happened to be born on the island and were already eight weeks or so by the time the owner came to retrieve his team, the Inuit was likely to destroy them, because the pups hadn’t been socialized by humans and wouldn’t be sufficiently responsive to be used on the sled.

The author doesn’t wish to anthropomorphize the Inuit dog, but there is one trait common to both humans and dogs: jealousy. The Inuit dog can become extremely jealous when attention is paid to another dog. Members of the British Antarctic Survey, who used Inuit dogs for many years before switching to motorized transport, soon discovered this characteristic. Hence the motto at the bases, “Pet one, pet them all.” In the author’s kennel, packs are kept loose in large enclosures to partially recreate the conditions of the pre-picketed era. Even so, if one dog is overlooked, he will chase the last dog petted and jump him. If one dog is petted too long, another will wait a few steps back and challenge him the minute he moves away.

Because of his primitive digestive system, the Inuit dog requires a different diet from other dogs. He doesn’t assimilate cereal-based foods (i.e. composed of wheat, oats or barley). If fed such a diet, the dog encounters problems and fails to grow into the magnificent adult he should be. In northern climates, the dogs need fat (pork, beef or seal) in the diet to a level of thirty to forty percent of the total nutritional intake. When fed the correct food, the Inuit dog will enjoy robust good health. Minor injuries heal quickly and the dogs develop their trademark thick double coat to protect them from the cold. There are no known genetic diseases in this breed.

Explorers were prompt to recognize the value of such a strong and hard-working dog. Roald Amundsen’s expedition reached the South Pole in December 1911, pulled by teams of Inuit dogs, whereas Captain Scott’s expedition ended tragically because he had no faith in the reliability of sled dogs. In 1921 Knud Rasmussen travelled east-west along the Arctic coast with Inuit dogs. Modern explorers and adventurers, using teams of Inuit dogs, blaze new trails or retrace the classic routes of earlier expeditions. Renee Wissink’s 1987 expedition retraced the epic journey of Qitdlarssuaq from Iglulik, Canada, to Thule, Greenland. Paul Schurke of Minnesota, along with Dmitry Shparo of the former U.S.S.R, led the 1989 Bering Bridge Expedition from Anadyr in Siberia to Kotzebue, Alaska. His aim was to get the Soviet and the United States governments to agree on allowing the Upik and Inupiak peoples from both countries to travel across the Bering Straits, something they had always done until 1938, when the Soviet regime imposed travel restrictions. To Paul Shurke’s credit and that of his Inuit dogs, both governments ratified the agreement. Schurke was also co-leader of the 1986 Steger unsupported dog team expedition to the North Pole.

As a breed, the Canadian Inuit dog has made a hestitant recovery. Projects like Utirtut Qimmiq in the Nunavik region of arctic Quebec have helped integrate hands-on learning about the Inuit dog into the northern school curriculum. Under the watchful eye of the project managers, the best dogs are bred and teams maintained. Using the dogs in the traditional manner has become a community activity. The Inuit and their dogs have adapted to a modified, modern lifestyle. Races, such as the Nunavut Quest and the Ivvakak have fired the enthusiasm of Inuit mushers, as well as that of a few non-Inuit, and created a renewed interest in the Inuit dog.

Utirtut Qimmiq and other projects have been helped by the Inuit Sled Dog International (ISDI), the not-for-profit organization that has its roots in the ‘Friends of the Inuit Dog’, a loosely-knit association that the author established in 1988 to disseminate information on the Inuit dog and to rescue Inuit sled dogs in need. In 1997, the author met Sue Hamilton. Both shared a passion for the Inuit dog and possessed the same vision for the breed’s future. Thus the ISDI was founded. Sue Hamilton took over the newsletter, which rapidly expanded to become The Fan Hitch, the official journal of the ISDI.

Since its inception, the ISDI has participated in several scientific studies, has been a specialist resource for such movies as the Dogs of the Midnight Sun by the Discovery Channel. The ISDI aids scholars and researchers, and students, engaged in projects dealing with a variety of polar topics. It also mentors new owners of Inuit dogs. In addition to starring in movies, like the 1995 National Geographic movie entitled Arctic Disaster: Stalin, in which the author’s Inuit dogs recreated a dramatic rescue, and television appearances, the Inuit dog has been featured on postage stamps and the dog itself has been the subject of countless magazine articles, most recently the 2009-10 Winter issue of Modern Dog.

The mission statement of the ISDI is to preserve this ancient arctic breed in its purest form as a working dog. Not everyone needs to be a musher, but a solitary Inuit dog doesn’t do as well as two or more together, no matter how much attention he receives. An Inuit dog can be trained successfully to skijor and bikejor with his owner, so long as there is not too much chance of meeting other dogs on the trail. The Inuit has a pronounced disdain for dogs of other breeds. When confronted, the Inuit dog will adopt a dominant stance to express his sense of superiority and give a low growl. If the stranger dog immediately submits, the Inuit dog may simply walk away without another glance. If the other dog has no intention of submitting, a fight may ensue.

The Inuit dog is the sled dog of choice among many tour operators, valued for his dependability and his uncanny ability to get himself and his team (and the paying clients!) back to the lodge no matter how much the weather conditions worsen.

As mentioned above, the dog has a sixth sense for detecting thin ice and avoiding it. This particular talent was perhaps developed over centuries in their natural arctic environment, where hunters would rely on their dogs to find the aglu – the seals’ breathing holes in the ice, often from as far away a mile. Inuit polar bear hunters use the dogs’ enthusiasm and pack intelligence to surround the bear until the hunter is close enough to make the kill. Although the author’s dogs live on the Canadian prairies, they have lost nothing of their ancestral instinct. Two of them, a father-son team, once rounded up a deer and held it captive at the edge of the house yard until the author could grab the dogs by the scruff of the neck and put them back into their pen. It was nonetheless impressive to see the dogs’ precision teamwork (the deer escaped unharmed back into the surrounding bush). In the Arctic, Inuit dogs are still used to warn of polar bears, who sometimes wander into the settlement or camp. The author’s semi-wilderness property is home to many black bears and she relies on her Inuit dogs to keep them at a distance. On several occasions, her dogs chased bears away or treed them.

The Canadian Inuit Dog has been brought back from the cusp of extinction as a pure breed, thanks to dedicated owners in southerly regions and the effort of the Inuit people of the North. But his status is fragile and much work remains to ensure the future of the Canadian Inuit dog.

Further information is available on the ISDI website – www.inuitsleddoginternational.com, and The Canadian Inuit Dog: Canada’s Heritage, second edition, ISBN 0968167527 by Genevieve Montcombroux – the only book dedicated exclusively to the breed and its history.

July 1, 2007

By Miriam Körner

“Don’t go too close to these dogs. These are no pets,” warns Brian Ladoon, founder of the Canadian Eskimo Dog Foundation, as he leads me around his dog yard, home to 120 Canadian Eskimo Dogs – one third of the world’s population of registered purebreds. There is something different about this ancient, powerfully built dog, that demands respect. They appear as confident, magnificent animals; their posture revealing pride, their gate a brisk trot with the slow, majestic movements of their wild soul mates.

Although wolf-like in appearance, the Canadian Eskimo Dog is within the spitz family of dogs, species canis familiaris borealis, and the similarities between wolf and dog are more of a superficial nature related to the ability of both species to survive in a harsh Arctic climate. During the winter the dog wears a thick outer coat of straight, often erect hair with a dense underfur below. This protects them against the rigors of life in high latitudes. Males often carry mane-like longer hair over the neck and shoulders. Canadian Eskimo Dogs are very pack-oriented. The hierarchy of dominant and subordinate roles will be fought out under the leadership of the dominant dog, often called the boss dog, similar to the alpha male in wolf packs. But there is no more wolf in a Canadian Eskimo Dog than there is in a poodle, believes the Nunavut organization ISDI (Inuit Sled Dog International). In general, the Canadian Eskimo Dog is gentle and affectionate with the average human and enjoys attention, though they seem to have an almost over response to any stimulus whether it be food, work, fight or play. For this reason, the dogs are recommended to be companions for adults and not as a child’s pet.

The term ‘Canadian Eskimo Dog’ is the official name that the Canadian Kennel Club uses. In the past the Club has referred to the dog as the ‘Eskimo,’ ‘Esquimaux Husky,’ ‘Esquimaux Dog,’ or simply ‘Husky.’ The Inuit of Arctic Canada called their dog ‘qimmiq’ in the Inuktitut language, meaning ‘dog.’ The breed is known to have migrated with the Thule Civilization across the Bering Street, between 900 and 1100 AD, to the coastal and archipelago area – now Arctic Canada – and Greenland. Archeologists have found sled runners and harness parts from that era, but these artifacts only indicate the first usage of the qimmiq as a sled dog. The roots of the dog itself date back to the paleoinuit culture of 4,000 BC, possibly even earlier, where dogs where used as hunting partners. The exact origin of the dog is lost in pre-history, but it is widely accepted that the ancestors of today’s Inuit would not have survived without the qimmiq.

In the 1920s an estimated 20,000 purebred dogs lived in the Canadian North. In the 1960s Inuit families still traveled back and forth between Canada and Greenland by dog team, however, in the 1970s the snow mobile had taken over and the qimmiq was on the verge of extinction with less than 200 of the breed left. The Canadian Eskimo Dog Research Foundation Club in Yellowknife initiated a project, with the help from the Canadian Kennel Club and the Canadian Government, to save the breed in 1972. Four years later Brian Ladoon in Churchill, Manitoba responded to the concerns that the Canadian Eskimo Dog would be soon extinct by setting out on a mission to the North: He acquired his first 19 Canadian Eskimo Dogs from the Inuit communities of Whale Cove, Eskimo Point (Arviat), Hall Beach and Igloolik. Ladoon began the establishment of what has become the largest Canadian Eskimo Dog breeding kennel in the world: The Canadian Eskimo Dog Foundation (CEDF). After 30 years of breeding, Ladoon still believes the future for the Canadian Eskimo Dog looks bleak as dogs in the Arctic are mostly used for racing, and the faster southern dogs are crossbred with the traditional dogs. The CEDF maintains and provides a pure genetic stock to facilitate restoration programs to the Inuit communities of the Canadian Arctic. The dogs are bred for withstanding the Arctic climate, power and endurance, and maintaining the line of the tough working animal.

In 2001, the Canadian Eskimo Dog became the official territorial mammal of Nunavut and the government adopted the term “Canadian Inuit Dog” to designate the ‘qimmiq’ in the English language. The Canadian Kennel Club continues to use the name Canadian Eskimo Dog, referring exclusively to Canadian breeds, while the “Canadian Inuit Dog” is one of the three “Inuit Sled Dog International (ISDI)” amongst the Greenland Inuit Dog and Russian Inuit Dog. Ladoon feels there is much confusion over the name for this dog and he by no means wants to be derogatory by continuing the use of the name Canadian Eskimo Dog, however his argument –is that the word “eskimo” is widely accepted to mean “eater of raw meat,” and after all that’s what Ladoons dogs do as did their ancestors – eat raw meat.

No matter what the dog is called – qimmiq, Canadian Eskimo Dog, Canadian Inuit Dog or Inuit Sled Dog International – the canis familiaris borealis is one of Canada’s four indigenous breeds, rich in history and of great value to its people. One of the only four indigenous breeds – the Tahltan Bear Dog – has already vanished from the face of the earth; the Canadian Eskimo Dog came close to extinction in the 70s and their numbers have barely recovered to a viable size. So no matter what the name or the location of the organization is, that breed of rare descendants of the ancient qimmiq, they have one thing in common: The dedication to save this historic dog from the fate of extinction.

For further information or to contribute with donations, visit the following websites:

http://www.polarbearworld.com: The site of the Canadian Eskimo Dog Foundation (CEDF) can be found on this web page. The CEDF offers a healthy breeding stock of purebred Canadian Eskimo Dogs.

http://www.inuitsleddoginternational.com : The Inuit Sled Dog International (ISDI) site has his own breed registry and publishes the quarterly journal “Fan Hitch.”

http://www.ckc.cawww.ckc.ca The Canadian Kennel Club describes the purebred criteria of Canadian Eskimo Dog and owners of these dog can register their purebreds here.

Miriam Körner is a freelance writer and photographer. She lives with her sled dogs at Potato Lake, Saskatchewan and guides dog sledding and canoeing adventures for “Paws’n’Paddles Wilderness Tours.” She enjoys winter camping by dog team and wilderness racing.

published in Mushing Magazine (www.mushing.com)

March 1, 2006

By Sandy Moore

Freight history

Some breeds of freight dogs (such as the Siberian Husky, Samoyed, and Inuit sled dog) were developed over centuries. Human and dog depended on each other in the harsh arctic environment. Dogs had to come when called, accept the harness, identify seal blow holes for the hunter, corral polar bears until the hunter(s) arrived, and be dependably friendly to their humans.

Both human and dog life was not easy. The average lifespan of an Inuit sled dog, for example, was five years and the dogs commonly died of injury and illness. Some of the not-so-old stories I’ve read tell of a lead dog being whipped repeatedly for a disobedient act; a female giving birth while working in harness, dropping her pups in the snow as they were born only to be immediately eaten by the following dog team; and a puppy being placed with a baby to keep the baby warm while the family traveled.

While some of these tales may seem horrific, I believe they offer a glimpse into the immense challenge of Arctic life. How close to the edge Arctic people and their dogs lived! Dogs that would not come were shot or starved to death. There was no room for a dog that could not pull its weight. The end result of this survival-based breeding program is the toughest dog in the world.

Freight dogs became widely used for running traplines and hauling white man supplies in the 1800’s. Again, their ability to run in open country, pull heavy loads, camp out, stop on command, and common sense about trail dangers proved invaluable.

Freight dogs were an integral part of Arctic life until the 1950’s or so when snowmobiles became available, and the Canadian government conducted a fairly complete extermination of sled dogs in an attempt to control canine disease.

Freight characteristics

The more I read and talk with other mushers, the clearer the picture of “freight dog” becomes. Freight dogs need to be strong to pull heavy loads over long distance in harsh arctic weather. The freight dogs I have known had excellent feet, thick, “double” coats, and were solidly built. In addition, freight dogs need to be mentally tough, able to pull heavy loads for hours without losing focus or melting down. It takes a stubborn dog to handle going 6-8 mph (maximum speed for many freight dogs) all day in a howling white-out, and then spend the night curled up in the snow.

Freight breeds

There are a number of dog breeds that would be classified as freight dogs. According to www.samoyed.org, the Samoyed breed from east of the Ural Mountains in eastern Russia was bred to help their humans herd reindeer and pull sleds. While Samoyeds we see today are all white, the original Samoyed could be black or brown and white. This breed is not a fast dog, compared to today’s racing dogs, and is not often seen in a race setting. Samoyeds are credited with accompanying various late 1800/early 1900 polar explorers and adventurers such as Fridtjof Nansen, the Duc d’Abruzzi, Roald Amundsen, and Ernest Shackleton.

The Siberian Husky was developed to efficiently pull moderate loads over long distances in low temperatures throughout eastern Siberia. As a result the Siberian Husky is smaller than many freight dogs and has successfully transitioned into a racing dog. Leonhard Seppala is perhaps the most well-known Siberian breeder and musher, and his lead dog, Balto (who made the original “Iditarod Run” in 1925), lives on as a statue in New York’s Central Park.

I have read of evidence as old as 900 years that shows the use of sled dogs in North America. The Inuit sled dog (also known as the Canadian InuitEskimo dog or Greenland Husky) has links back to the Thule and Dorset Inuit people and the original migration of people from Asia across the Bering Sea to North America. The Inuit sled dog of today remains a primitive dog, generally not suited as a house pet, but a shining star when it comes to pulling heavy loads (often twice its weight), in the world’s worst weather. These dogs are often referred to as the “Sherman tank” of the sled dog world. A wonderful source of information and photos about these exceptional dogs is Toadhall Kennels www.mts.net/~toadhall/index(a).htm.

The Polar Husky was developed by Arctic explorer Will Steger for his polar expeditions. According to the polarhusky.com website, Polar Huskies are a mix of Malamute, Greenland Husky, Siberian, Alaskan, Mackenzie River, Canadian Eskimo, and Antarctic dog. I have seen several polar huskies weighing in at over 100 pounds, although a wide range of sizes is possible.

A modern and rare breed of freight dog is the Chinook, which began when a Greenland Husky/Mastiff cross named “Chinook” was born in 1917, in New Hampshire, USA. Chinook and some of his offspring accompanied his breeder and musher, Arthur Walden, hauling freight for the 1927 Byrd Antarctic Expedition. Chinooks are known for their tawny color, gentle nature, determination, and strength. Males typically weight about 70 pounds with females tipping the scales at about 55 pounds. A more complete history of this interesting dog can be found at www.chinook.org along with photos.

Alaskan Malamutes were developed as bigger dogs to haul heavy loads long distances. According to the Alaskan Malamute Club of America (www.alaskanmalamute.org) the Alaskan Malamute typically weighs in at 65-85 pounds. One history I read (www.angelfire.com/on3/happyhuskies/main.html) says the Alaskan Malamute originated with Mahlemut Inuit people near Kotzebue Sound, Alaska who used the dogs for hunting. In the 1800’s the Alaskan Malamute found additional work hauling supplies for gold miners during the Alaskan gold rush.

A year ago, a freight musher friend, Linda Fredericksen, introduced me to her new puppy, a Hedlund Husky. From Linda, I learned that the Hedlund Husky is an Alaskan Husky line developed from Siberian, Alaskan interior village dog and old wolf. Native Alaskans, Nels and Rose Hedlund, homesteaded in Illiamna in the mid-1900’s and bred racing dogs, which, at that time, meant dogs that could handle difficult trail conditions and heavy loads. Both Nels and Rose have died, and Kim Fitzgerald of Wasilla, Alaska, continues to develop and maintain this rare line.

According to Donna Dowling, Fairbanks Alaska, the “Mackenzie River Husky” is a breed of mystery and misconception. In an informative piece she wrote for Sled Dog Central (www.sleddogcentral.com), she comments that the name “Mackenzie River Husky” probably originally referred to a strain of husky from a village in Mackenzie River area (a large area by any means). However, unknowing tourists took to calling all huskies by that name, thus muddling historical information about the breed. Again, these dogs were used for hauling freight. Dowling writes that the dogs weigh 70 to 125 pounds.

The Alaskan Husky is not considered a “pure” breed because the very nature of the breed is for the breeder to breed in any dog containing characteristics that are desirable. Modern Alaskan Huskies may contain such diverse breeds as Greyhound and Border Collie, in addition to the more traditional northern breeds. It depends on the breeder’s goals for his or her kennel.

Theoretically, any dog can be a freight dog if it exhibits the appropriate characteristics of thick coat, good feet, wariness of trail danger (open water, uneven snow surfaces), ability to pull heavy loads for long distances often at slow speeds.

There is also some variation in how a dog is trained to freight as opposed to racing. For example, a freight dog needs to be trained to stop on command in case the musher has to snowshoe ahead to break trail or pause at a trap to remove the trapped wildlife. This sort of training would be counter-productive to the racer.

In comparison, a race dog needs to be strongly motivated to go at all times and trust that the trail will be safe. The racing dog trusts that the musher will not drive the dog into danger. A freight musher trusts her freight dogs to alert her to danger.

As another example, last winter I was visiting some mushing friends up in the Boundary Waters of Minnesota. One of the group was a racing musher with her racing team. The rest of us were freight mushers. We’d had some heavy snows and were keen to get out a break trails. Our racing friend elected to stay in camp for fear her dogs would injure themselves trying to run through the deep, treacherous snows. This was not a problem for our freight dogs that were slower moving, took shorter steps, and were alert for trail danger.

There are other breeds of dog that are excellent at pulling heavy weight, but not as well-suited for pulling sleds long distances as the northern breeds. For space reasons, I will not address those breeds in this article.

Freight dogs today

Today the life of the average freight dog has changed. Snowmobiles have replaced dog teams, and the ever-evolving world of racing has favored the smaller, faster dog. The big, strong freight dog of the early 1900’s is rarely required nowadays.

Most freight dog mushers are recreational, using the dogs for camping trips, for example. However, there are still some mushers using freight dogs for running traplines in the bush or polar expeditions. Many freight breeds have become house pets, although the number of web sites dedicated to “Secrets to Solving Siberian Husky Problems” leads me to think that the transition to house pet has not been easy for these high energy, hard working, independent-thinking dogs.

Recently the Points Unknown Kennel, Watertown, Minnesota, donated three Inuit sled dog puppies to a village on Hudson Bay to help reestablish the breed among its native people. I received a copy of an email that told of the older couple who received the puppies, and how the woman recalled these puppies were indeed the same as the dogs she remembered as a girl before the government extermination program in the 1950’s.

Anecdotally, many recreational mushers do not appreciate the wild nature of some freight dogs, preferring to breed for quieter, calmer, less volatile dogs, more amenable to the increasingly suburban environment in which many mushers live. I believe that the hope for survival of the freight breeds in their original form depends on the use of the dogs as they were intended: for heavy loads over long distances in severe weather. These spectacular dogs represent a delicate communion between man and wild nature.

The author wishes to thank Linda Fredericksen, Ted Heistman, Helen Newman, and Tim Socha for their insights into the freight dog. Freight mushers will find a non-racing community on-line with the oldschooldogs chat group on Yahoo.com.

Sandy Moore lives in the Rocky Mountains near the town of Nederland, Colorado. When she’s not running the dogs, she works as a chimney sweep and Pilates instructor. She worked in arctic and alpine research for many years and can relate to how the sled dogs love wild weather as much as she does.

published in Mushing Magazine (www.mushing.com)

September 1, 2009

By Ried Holien

Robert Edwin Peary stood shakily as his steamer pushed farther north than any ship ever had under its own power. His discomfort resulted in part from “an enormous squadron of floating icebergs,” but also from his incomplete feet. He lost eight toes to frostbite years before, and although doctors said his exploring days were over Peary refused to stop until he’d accomplished his life’s goal of reaching the North Pole.

He persevered through repeated failures. Indeed, days before one Eskimo hunter greeted Peary with the warm words: “You are like the sun. You always come back.” Only, Peary knew this time he would not be returning. He intended to reach the North Pole or perhaps die trying. 

The 1908-09 North Pole expedition marked Peary’s seventh trip above the Arctic Circle within the preceding 22 years. He’d lived in that frigid climate for nearly half that time, exploring thousands of miles of ice-covered land and water, and becoming the most experienced Arctic traveler who had ever lived. He paid a heavy price, however. Though only 52-years-old, his face appeared much older, bearing deep lines and a weathered look. His red hair had started turning gray. He walked by shuffling his feet—the result of his lost toes.

Still, in trying to become the first person to reach the North Pole, Peary would not have traded his hard-earned experience for anything. It allowed him the knowledge to handpick the 49 best Inuit natives, and 246 of their hardiest dogs. They, along with the 19 Americans he brought with him, would serve as Peary’s most important asset in an undertaking that was bold in conception and staggering in logistics. Listing just some of the supplies: 300 tons of coal, 70 tons of whale meat, 50 walrus carcasses, 5 tons of sugar, 8 tons of flour and 15 tons of pemmican (a high-energy food made of fat, spices, and dried-meat).

All this was necessary for what Peary called his “last and supreme effort,” his final attempt to gain, “the last great geographical prize, the North Pole.”

Born in Cresson, Pennsylvania, in 1856, Robert Edwin Peary grew up in Maine, where his family moved while he was a young boy. He graduated from Bowdoin College. In 1881, he accepted an officer’s commission in the Navy’s Civil Engineer Corps. Along with steady employment he’d keep until retirement, the job came with one enormous perk: long stretches of paid leave during which he could go exploring. Peary arranged these “vacations” through great determination and lucky timing. In the last decades of the 1800s, America was overflowing with energy, eager to prove itself on the world stage. Peary presented his discoveries as great American accomplishments, adroitly using patriotism to convince his superiors for time off.

The Arctic became Peary’s passion. He first explored Greenland, where he became only the second man to go overland across that country’s barren, inland ice cap. He mapped much of Greenland’s northern coast and proved it to be an island.

Beginning on this first trip, Robert Peary revolutionized Arctic travel by adopting Eskimo practices. Previous white explorers refused to consider that any native, anywhere in the world, could offer anything useful. They dismissed native knowledge, if not native culture altogether. (Peary himself suffered from this mindset somewhat, referring to all natives as “my Eskimos” and often not bothering to learn specific tribe names.)

Peary, however, accepted the superiority of some native customs. He learned the importance of living off the land whenever possible, hunting polar bears, walruses, musk-oxen and hares to supplement his food supply. He adopted Eskimo clothes. No western material matched the warmth provided by deerskin parkas, bearskin pants and sealskin boots. He abandoned tents, and their bulky weight that slowed down travel, in favor of igloos, which were warmer and more wind resistant.

Finally, Peary embraced dog power. Previous explorers used their own men to pull sledges. This exhausted the men, which contributed to several fatalities in earlier polar expeditions. Peary selected Canadian Inuit dogs from tribes along Greenland’s west coast. As he gained knowledge, he specifically targeted dogs from the Smith Sound area—widely considered the best of any in the region.

Not that Peary understood dogs immediately. On his first sledding expedition, Peary received a serious bite on his hand when tackling a recalcitrant dog. Nonetheless, he gained an immediate and lasting respect. “They are sturdy, magnificent animals,” Peary wrote. Indeed, Canadian Inuit dogs weighed about 70 pounds, and could pull 100 pounds over twenty miles with little difficulty. “There may be larger dogs than these, there may be handsomer dogs; but I doubt it,” Peary continued. “Other dogs may work as well or travel as fast and far when fully fed; but there is no dog in the world that can work so long in the lowest temperatures on practically nothing to eat.”

The explorer learned his way with dogs and sleds though he never became particularly skilled with either. In fact, Peary rarely drove a team. He preferred to walk in front of his expedition, selecting its path. Peary harnessed his dogs around the chest and shoulders, using traces made of walrus hide stitched together by Eskimo women. He drove his teams in a fan-shaped pattern, rather than in pairs. On later trips, when his feet became crippled with pain, he sometimes rode prostrate in a sled. Peary tried to prevent anyone from knowing this, however, because it was considered effete.

Peary lost eight toes during his 1898-99 Greenland expedition. After traveling through temperatures as low as 69-degrees below zero, Peary took off his boots and several frostbitten toes snapped off instantly. The party doctor amputated what remained of the deadened toes. With only the pinkie-toe remaining on each foot, Peary later underwent surgery to even things out and soften the stumps.

Another persistent problem Peary contracted around this time was a polar form of scurvy similar to anemia. Eskimos avoided this by eating raw meat from fresh kills. Peary disdained this practice, considering it repulsive.

In at least one case, Peary improved upon Eskimo wisdom by building a bigger, heavier sled. Peary eschewed the 9-foot long Eskimo models in favor of ones 12 or 13-feet in length. Made of willow, each sledge could carry 500-pounds. Because of their increased size, this load could be spread out more evenly, which lowered the center of gravity and resulted in fewer overturns. They also proved sturdier than native models.

While his instinct with sleds proved correct, it resulted as much from personal bias as from keen intellect. Peary never quite shook his culture’s dominant attitude of white superiority. He borrowed whatever seemed useful, but disregarded much of Eskimo life. For instance, he never bothered to perfect their language, halting his education after acquiring only a rudimentary vocabulary.

This prejudice did not; however, prevent Peary from reportedly fathering two children with a native Greenlander named Allakasingwah. These children arrived near the same time of the two he sired with his American wife, Josephine. Josephine accompanied Peary on several polar expeditions, becoming the first white woman to winter in the Arctic. Josephine resented her rival, but Robert never apologized.

Perhaps Peary was just following an idea he concocted in 1885, after his first trip to Greenland. He wrote: “If colonization is to succeed in the polar region let white men take with them native wives, then from this union may spring a race combining the hardiness of the mothers with the intelligence of the fathers. Such a race would surely reach the Pole if their fathers did not succeed in doing it.”

Peary suffered from several such personality flaws. He treated all other white explorers as interlopers in his own personal polar playground. He controlled his Eskimo helpers with a style described as: “the iron hand ungloved.” Also, he hungered for acclaim. In an 1887 letter to his mother, Peary wrote: “My last trip brought my name to the world; my next will give me standing in the world. Remember, mother, I must have fame.”

No wonder Arctic historian Fergus Fleming described Peary as: “undoubtedly the most driven, possibly the most successful and probably the most unpleasant man in the annals of polar exploration.”

After several excursions northward onto the polar ice cap, Peary formulated a brilliant strategy for his 1905-06 North Pole expedition. First, he designed a boat, the Roosevelt, to carry him to a winter base on the northern tip of Ellesmere Island. The Roosevelt—named after President Teddy who helped Peary secure more paid leave—worked as essentially the world’s first icebreaker. It also had a specialized hull, 30-inches thick reinforced with a steel casing, that escaped freezing ice by squeezing out above it. Resting atop the ice, the ship provided a safe winter base until spring temperatures thawed it free again.

Thanks to the Roosevelt, Peary started his 1906 North Pole expedition 300 miles farther north than previous trips. This started him only 450 miles from his target.

Peary bet on his second great invention to cover those remaining miles. Disagreeing with the long-held belief that only a small party with less need for supplies and a faster speed could reach the Pole, Peary developed a strategy that involved over 30 men, a similar number of sleds, and over 100 dogs. Dividing this force into six groups, five units worked solely to make travel easier for the sixth. These supporting divisions took turns blazing a trail, building igloos, and setting up supply depots. Expending all their energy in this effort, these five groups would drop out one-by-one and the sixth, rested and ready, would slingshot past them to the pole.

Humbly enough, the explorer named this: “the Peary system.”

Unfortunately, this 1906 expedition encountered all possible pitfalls and perils associated with Arctic exploration. Temperatures regularly dropped to 50-below. Constant high winds heightened the cold, and impeded progress. The ice proved uneven and unwelcoming.

The Arctic Ocean icecap is not static, but rather moves constantly in great upheaval. Tides, currents, and winds press and pull the ice in different directions. As Peary explained, it is far from being “a gigantic skating pond with a level floor over which the dogs drag us merrily.”

Pressure ridges and leads presented the two greatest troubles. Pressure ridges formed when two sheets of ice slammed into one another. This formed crests sometimes over 50-feet high. Men overcame ridges by lifting sleds and supplies up and over. Learning quickly, dogs used this time to nap.

Leads were, as Peary wrote, the Arctic explorer’s “ever-present nightmare.” Leads resulted when the icecap ripped open, creating an expanse of open water. They opened anywhere, anytime, without warning. One night, a lead cut Peary’s camp into two different parties. Another lead swallowed up an entire team of dogs (they were rescued though). Humans could do nothing about leads except wait for the water to freeze, or for wind and currents to return both sides together.

Early in this 1906 expedition, a gigantic lead stopped all progress. Peary and his men waited an entire week before it closed. They went only a short distance before a gale roared up and again made travel impossible. Another week passed before tolerable conditions returned.

After taking a positional reading, Peary found to his astonishment that shifting ice had moved him 70 miles to the east. Cut off from supply caches and support teams both in front and behind, Peary knew the Pole was lost. His party survived by eating their dogs. While no person died during the 1906 debacle, only 41 of the original 121 dogs returned.

Feeling old and decrepit, Peary feared that he’d forever lost his opportunity. Peary said: “It seemed to me then that the story of my life was told and that the word failure was stamped across it.”

This melancholy lasted only a short while, however. When Peary heard others were trying for the North Pole, he gathered money for a new attempt. Peary required help from wealthy patrons because each trip cost several million dollars in today’s money. A new Peary expedition left New York on July 6, 1908.

Peary followed the same strategy as before, organizing 24 men, 19 sleds and 133 dogs into six divisions. Each dog received a daily ration of one pound of pemmican. Men enjoyed that, plus biscuits, condensed milk, and tea. Staying true to the “Peary system,” the lead group left Ellesmere on February 28, 1909, and the last group departed on March 1st.

The first day got off to an inauspicious start when Matthew Henson, Peary’s closest companion, stopped because his sled broke. Henson described the repair: “Undo the lashings, unload the load, get out the brace and bit and bore new holes, taking plenty of time, for, in such cold, there is danger of the steel bit breaking. Then, with ungloved hands, thread the sealskin thongs through the hole. The fingers freeze. Stop work, hand under your armpit, and when you feel it burning you know it has thawed out. Then start to work again.”

More bad luck hit the second day when Peary noticed “a dark ominous cloud” ahead. Such clouds formed over leads because evaporating water quickly condensed in frigid air creating, “a fog so dense that at times it looks as black as the smoke of a prairie fire.”

Luckily, that lead shifted closer together overnight. Peary guided his team across using ice chunks as stepping-stones. “Imagine crossing a river on a succession of giant shingles, all afloat and moving,” Peary wrote, and then you could, “form an idea of the uncertain surface over which we crossed.”

Days later, a monstrous lead blocked their progress. A quarter of a mile wide, stretching beyond sight in either direction, this “Big Lead,” as the men called it, stymied them for seven days. Peary said of this “intolerable inaction” that: “Altogether, I think that more of mental wear and tear was crowded into those days than into all the rest of the fifteen months we were absent from civilization.”

Finally, on March 11, a thin layer of ice covered the lead and Peary guided a risky crossing. The young ice held, but leads continued to be a problem throughout. Henson almost drowned in one, and Peary himself took some unwelcome swims, as did most of the dogs.

On April 1, when 133 miles from the North Pole, the last support group turned back leaving Peary to make one final dash. He handpicked five men to accompany him. His faithful companion, Matthew Henson, came, as did the four best Eskimo sled drivers: Ootah, Egingwah, Seegloo, and Ooqueah. Peary also selected the five sturdiest sleds and the 40 healthiest dogs.

This exceptional crew began averaging over 20 miles a day. Having the end in sight helped. Peary wrote that even the dogs “caught the high spirits of the party. Some of them even tossed their heads and barked and yelped as they traveled.”

Finally, on April 6, 1909, Peary reached his target. He wrote in his journal: “The Pole at last! The prize of three centuries. My dream and goal for twenty years. Mine at last!” He then planted the Stars and Stripes into the ice and claimed the North Pole for the United States.

The men did not stay long to savor their discovery. Needing to return over hundreds of miles of ice made more dangerous by the springtime thaw, they left on April 7. They made excellent time. With a trail already blazed, igloos waiting for them along the way, and compliant weather, they reached base camp on April 23.

Peary returned to America a hero. He retired in 1911 after Congress awarded him a Rear Admiral’s pension in gratitude of his discoveries. He spent most of his remaining years on Eagle Island, off the coast of Maine. He died on February 20, 1920, from the lasting effects of anemia, that polar blood disease he’d contracted years before.

Sidebars

Matthew Henson

It’s possible that Robert Peary would never have reached the North Pole without the help of his African-American assistant Matthew Henson. The two met at a Washington D.C. hat shop when Henson was 21-years-old and Peary ten years his senior. Peary hired him then and there, and the two became inseparable.

Eskimos liked Henson, considering him a brother because of their similar skin colors. They called him “Mahri-Pahluk,” which meant “Matthew the Kind One.” He nurtured this relationship by speaking their language fluently. Because of this, Peary (who never became skilled in the native tongue) relied upon Henson to handle many of his Eskimo affairs, including hiring, firing and negotiating. Beside this task, Henson oversaw the building of the expedition’s igloos. He also, in the words of Peary, could handle a sledge better than “any other man living, except some of the best of the Eskimo hunters themselves.”

Henson died in 1955 at 89-years-old, but supporters believed it wrong that he should be separated in death from his friend and mentor. So, in 1988, Henson was reinterred near Admiral Peary in Arlington National Cemetary.

Did Peary Reach the North Pole First—If At All?

Before the discovery of the North Pole, adventurers followed a creed of gentlemanly behavior based upon a Victorian sensibility. Nearly any discovery was taken upon the word of the man claiming it. Scientific proof was, of course, preferred, but not absolutely necessary. This all changed after Peary returned in 1909. Ever since, explorers have been required to show verifiable proof.

This change resulted because just five days before Peary announced he had discovered the North Pole another American claimed the same thing. Dr. Frederick Cook, a former friend and employee of Peary’s, stated he discovered it a year earlier, on April 21, 1908. He took so long sending a telegraph because he, and his two Eskimo companions, had not made it back to civilization during their return and were forced to endure another winter isolated from outside contact.

Understanding the threat this posed to his legacy and earning potential, Peary immediately started to attack. He found Cook’s two companions and procured statements from them testifying the doctor had not gone anywhere near the North Pole.

Despite these affidavits, public sentiment initially favored Cook. He certainly possessed the correct pedigree. He had explored the Arctic with Peary and the Antarctic with Roald Amundson. He achieved worldwide fame for being the first man to climb Mount McKinley in 1906. Of course, it helped that the New York Herald championed his cause in daily headlines. (Having paid Cook $25,000 for his story, they had a stake in his vindication. The New York Times, however, backed Peary for similar reasons. The bitter fight between Cook and Peary, the Herald and Times, commanded worldwide attention.)

Both men drew serious questions from skeptics. Cook failed to provide any scientific proof of his journey. Inexplicably, he’d left his scientific instruments and journal back in Greenland, and they were never found. Cook refused to supply any documentation to any American review board. He did allow access to the University of Copenhagen, but they decided that Cook’s claim was unproven at best.

This crippling verdict came at the same time that Edward Barrill, Cook’s companion on the McKinley ascent, revealed that Cook lied about reaching the summit.

Peary, meanwhile, gave his journals, readings, instruments and supporting affidavits to the National Geographic Society (containing several pro-Peary members but still highly respected), which subsequently affirmed his accomplishment.

Public opinion has favored Peary ever since, albeit with lingering questions. Nobody with Peary possessed the skills to independently verify the North Pole readings, so the proof still depends upon Peary’s honesty. Also, Peary’s claims to have traveled more than 20 miles a day on the final leg of his journey, and at least that fast throughout the return, drew serious doubts.

The debate rages still today. The Frederick A. Cook Society—funded by a large bequest from his granddaughter—promotes pro-Cook articles and books. Despite this, very few today believe he reached the North Pole. His photographs atop Mount McKinley, for instance, have been completely discredited. His reputation suffered even more when he was convicted for stock fraud in 1923 and spent five years in federal prison.

Conversely, nearly all of Peary’s detractors still admit he got close to the Pole. Many people have retraced Peary’s path on dogsleds and matched or beat his time, proving his record speed to be possible. Also, modern photographic analysis leads many to think that Peary’s pictures show sun positions and shadows only possible at the North Pole.

Certainly, Peary’s irascible personality prevented many from wanting to honor him, but that perhaps provides the best summary of this controversy. One contemporary, a supporter of the doctor who later changed his opinion in favor of the Admiral, said: “Cook was a liar and a gentleman. Peary was neither.”

Published in Mushing Magazine (www.mushing.com)

March 1, 2010

By Miriam Korner

At first sight a modern qamutiik looks simple in design: Two wooden runners, cut out of a 2×8, maybe 12 feet long, pack board as runner plastic underneath and a bunch of 1×4 crosspieces tied on top and ready is the Arctic dog sled. 

This, you might think, is definitely the freighter under the dog sleds. But to my surprise it pulled easily, in fact, once gliding I could barely feel the weight. With a little tug left or right the sled responded quickly to the change of direction. I realized at once that I was looking at a well crafted and balanced design. The runners had a slight rocker and the plastic was tapered, explaining the easy tracking and steerability. I absolutely fell in love with the qamutiik. When I had the chance to try one out. Not only did it ride so smoothly, with the long runner spanning across rough ice and hummocks, but I was also a lot warmer sitting down snugly on my sleeping bag instead of standing up against the ever tearing wind. The advantages are definitely numerous, here are some:

# 1: You can not only pour yourself a cup of tea while traveling, you can also cook some fresh tea – all on the move.

# 2: You might actually stay on your sled when you fall asleep.

# 3: You have a good excuse to leave your ski poles behind.

The qamutiik belongs to the Arctic land, as the kayak to the open water. Yet, traveling through the barren lands, I could not stop thinking, how on earth did the Inuit used to make their sleds in the past? There’s not a tree in sight for miles on end. Never mind iron or plastic for runners. “We used to coat them runners with mud, you know,” an Inuk elder tells me. “Mud and ice. Sometimes we used fish for runners. I remember staring at him in disbelief, waiting for a smile, that would release he is pulling my leg. He looked back in all earnest and of course, it was true. The more I learn, the more respect I have for the resourcefulness of the Arctic peoples, their ability to make do with what the land provided.

What the land provided had an unmistakable influence on the qamutiik design. Wood has always been the material of first choice. Inland tribes would travel hundreds of miles into the tree line to obtain wood for runners, coastal tribes would often use drift wood. If no wood was avaible, the coastal Arctic peoples made sleds out of pieces of whale or walrus bone, driftwood and sometimes antler. Pieces were jointed and lashed together, giving a patchwork appearance. I have not been able to find a photograph of an early qamutiik. Most likely because with the European traders wood and iron quickly replaced the traditional materials before modern photography made its way into the Arctic. However, in 1819 Arctic explorer John Ross brought a qamutiik back from his polar expedition and presented this sled to the Admiralty. Today, it can be found in the British Museum and is definitely worth looking at. On this sled of the Polar Inuit, walrus ivory is attached to the bottom of the bone runners for easier gliding. Different snow conditions often required alternate shoeing.

In cold, dry conditions the snow sticks to the runners. The sled feels draggy, the runners scrunch and screech over the snow as if running over sand and the dogs have to work hard even when the load is light. A coating of ice would be the way to go for easy gliding and that’s exactly what the Arctic peoples of long ago did. Except, it’s easier said than done. Ice would not stick to the runner, and that’s where the mud comes in: The runners were first coated with a mix of peat and water and then a thin layer of ice applied on top of that. The process is lengthy as peat has to be found first – usually it is collected in summertime and stored in bags—then thawed and crumbled, mixed with water and kneaded to a thick paste. Peat creates its own heat and even in severe cold it takes a day to freeze on throughly. Only then water is spread over the mud runner. The water should be lukewarm as the sudden freezing makes a more durable form of ice. As the ice coating had to be renewed over the course of long travels, water was carried on the body to spare the time of melting snow or ice. Cold water was pre-warmed in the mouth and spit on the runner. With a good ice-coating even a heavy loaded sled would travel easily, when the terrain was reasonable smooth. In rough terrain, there was always the risk of hitting rocks or sharp jumble ice which would crack the ice shoeing, prolonging the journey through the necessity of re-icing. On hunting trips or when moving camp with the whole family, a young son would often jump off the sled mid-run and help maneuver the sled by pushing the front around obstacles. In spring time, the heat of the sun would melt the mud and ice shoeing and skins were often hung from the sled to offer shade for the disintegrating shoeing. At rest times a hole would be dug into the shady side of a hill, where the snow was still frozen. The qamutiik was covered with skins and buried to keep the runners from thawing.

Hunting sleds in the past would have been substantial shorter as dog teams were small. A family would have three to five dogs in the coastal regions, where food was easier obtainable and less dogs in the inland regions, where the main food source relied on the caribou migration. To move camp, families would often combine their dog teams and use larger sleds. The adults, often women, walked ahead of the dogs, pulling in harness themselves while the men walked next to the sleds urging the dogs on.

In spring time, the heavy sleds would be abandoned and retrieved later in fall. A toboggan like sled (uniuit) made out of polar bear or caribou skins as used by the inland tribes or walrus for the coastal tribes would be used as a temporary sled to haul the families belongings back to their last season’s qamutiit. Sometimes even the qamutiik runners were made of skins. And that’s where the fish comes in: First the skins were soaked in water and wrapped around fish to provide stability. Once shaped as a runner and frozen into place this type of runner could be extremely slippery causing the qamutiit to slide sideways.

With iron avaible from European traders, iron runners became the material of choice. Yet, mudding and ice shoeing over the iron was still the way to go in the early to mid 20th century. In 1921 explorer Knud Rasmussen set out on his 5th Thule expedition, a three year dog sledding excursion across Arctic America, with iron runners under his qamutiik. He soon noticed the colder it got the sticker became his runners. Not being able to find mud in the midst of winter, Rasmussen acquired flour at a trading post, using the paste as an adhesive over the iron, so that the ice shoeing would stick.

Today plastic has replaced the laborious care for traditional shoeing. However, even today great care is taken to make the sled glide as easy as possible: Screw holes in the runner plastic (pack board) are filled with melted plastic from a five gallon pale handle just before a mid distance race start. And at every stop a quick planing is applied to the runners for easier glide. If you encounter bad luck in a race and your sled needs to be repaired, you know now that all you need is out there, where ever you are. With that we come to advantage number four:

# 4: If your sled breaks, it’s easily fixed with what you can find on the land an in the sea: caribou antler, whale bone, or fish…;o)

Bibliography:

Books:

• Bennet, John & Rowley Susan (Editors). Uqalurait. An Oral History of Nunavut. Montreal & Kingston: McGill-Queen’s University Press, 2004

• Brandson, Lorraine E. Carved from the Land. The Eskimo Museum Collection. Diocese of Churchill Hudson Bay, 1994

• Malaurie, Jean. Ultima Thule. Explorers and Natives in the Polar North. New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 2003

• Rasmussen, Knud. Across Arctic America. New York: Greenwood Press, 1969 (Originally published in 1927 by G.P. Putnam’s Sons)

DVD:

• Zacharias Kunuk. Quimuksik (Dog Team). Isuma Productions, 1995

 Web page:

• www.britishmuseum.org (Sled of Bone, Ivory and Wood)

By JAMES BROOKE

Published: January 31, 2001

With howling and yipping rising from behind chain-link fences, a noisy dog kennel in an industrial suburb here is an unexpected place to find a species bouncing back exuberantly from the brink of extinction. Ears erect, bushy tails curled over their backs, powerfully built Canadian Inuit dogs happily greet visitors here. Only a few years ago their breed was not expected to see the 21st century dawn in the Arctic.

Perhaps 4,000 years ago, their ancestors trotted into the Arctic with part of a human migration from Asia that may have begun much earlier. Known to the Inuit simply as qimmiq, or dog, they were working partners, pulling sledges in the winter, carrying packs in the summer, sniffing out seal breathing holes in the spring, and fearlessly protecting camps from polar bears year round. On command, these intelligent hunters would track and corral caribou and musk oxen. In the Arctic, people said, ”A hunter without dogs is half a hunter.”

Loyal to their masters, they would provide warmth through frigid nights, or lead the way home through blinding blizzards. After they died, their luxuriant fur trimmed parkas. Through the ruthless selection of the pack, the Inuit dogs that entered the 20th century were some of the world’s toughest and strongest animals. After wolfing down chunks of raw seal meat with scissor bites, these dogs could haul twice their weight for days without being fed again. Sleeping curled in fur balls, they routinely woke on winter mornings buried under snow drifts.

The sole domestic or working animal of the Arctic, the Inuit dog probably peaked in the 1920’s with a population around 20,000, roughly equal to the human population of the far north. Around that time, scientists concluded that the Canadian Inuit dog was the only survivor of 17 indigenous domesticated breeds in the Americas at the time of the first European contact.

Then, in the 1960’s, the snowmobile roared into Inuit society, breaking the age-old bond between man and dog. After the Hudson Bay Company traders gave Inuit hunters snowmobiles in return for pelts, many owners saw their sled dog teams as useless expenses. William Carpenter, owner of the breeding kennel here, remembers hearing reports from native communities in the 1970’s that dogs were being shot at the rate of four to five a week.

”The sight of an unused dog team tied up on the edge of a community reflected the quandary of the Inuit: they were no longer nomadic, not yet urban,” reflected Mr. Carpenter, who moved to Yellowknife three decades ago to work as a biologist for the territorial government.

At the same time, this breed that had helped the Inuit master one of the world’s harshest environments was being undermined by crossbreeding with southern dogs brought by well-meaning outsiders. Breaking the region’s biological isolation, missionaries, Mounties and traders introduced German shepherds, Newfoundlands and Labradors, as well as their diseases, like distemper and rabies.

The Canadian Inuit dog is part of the spitz family of Arctic dogs, which include the Samoyed, Alaskan malamute, Siberian husky and Norwegian elkhound.The other American dogs in this group are newer types that result from crossbreeding. Crossbreeding became so generalized that in 1959 the American Kennel Club dropped what they then called the Eskimo from their list of registered breeds. By the mid-1970’s, the Canadian Kennel Club registered list of these dogs had dwindled to one sterile male.

Sounding the alarm, Mr. Carpenter cobbled together a species rescue plan, traveling to some of the Canadian Arctic’s most isolated communities. Of perhaps 200 purebred dogs surviving across an area three times the size of Texas, Mr. Carpenter bought 41 and flew them here, the capital of the Northwest Territories. Because of his effort, the Canadian Inuit dog has survived. With about a dozen kennels now breeding the dogs in Canada, the registered population now surpasses 500, with hundreds more in northern native communities.

”If this were a wild population, the whole world would be in a panic if there were only 500 left,” said Mr. Carpenter, who is now Northwest Territories director for World Wildlife Fund Canada. What is more important for the future, the Inuit are renewing their partnership with their dogs, albeit on a modernized basis.

Almost two years ago, historically Inuit lands broke away from the Northwest Territories to form a new territory, Nunavut. After celebratory fireworks died down, the Inuit woke up to the reality that Ottawa pays for about 90 percent of their territorial budget and that private sector jobs are rare.

As cultural tourism starts to supplant fur trapping as the major source of income in Nunavut, dog sled team owners in the territory’s 28 Inuit communities are increasingly phasing out crossbreed dogs. With an eye to authenticity, Inuit are restoring their traditional dogs to the teams that for centuries have bounded across the Arctic snow and ice.

”The communities clearly want to keep improving their teams, they want to keep a clear line,” said Mr. Carpenter, now 58, after walking through his kennel, patting dogs that frolicked around him in fur blurs of cinnamon, silver, sable and gray. ”Every year I send between 10 and 35 pups north.”

Modern appreciation of the Inuit dog actually spread southward first. Ottawa passed a federal law stipulating that non-Inuit people could only hunt polar bears by dog sled. The laughing, tongue-lolling visage of an Inuit dog appeared first on a Canadian stamp in 1988, then on the 50 cent coin in 1997. A decade ago, the Canadian Kennel Club reopened its registry for the dogs. The Canadian Eskimo Dog Association of Canada, an Ontario-based group, created a Web site, www.canadianeskimodog.com, and a quarterly magazine, Qimmiq.

For tourists, there is an enormous appeal to traveling with these friendly, if sometimes rambunctious, dogs. ”Learn to handle, harness and drive our teams of working dogs,” says a brochure for Mr. Carpenter’s wilderness lodge on Great Slave Lake, about 75 miles south of here. It is illustrated with photographs of Inuit dog teams trotting single file down a forest trail or hauling a wooden komatik, or Inuit sledge, over buckled lake ice.

”The future of this dog is not with southern dog shows, not with pet owners on leashes,” Mr. Carpenter said, dismissing the soft southern world of dog chow and doghouses. ”The future of this dog lies in its cultural setting. The future of the dog is in the hands of the northerners.”

Increasingly, he says, Inuit who hunt full time are returning to keeping purebred teams, realizing that their dogs do not need imported spare parts and that their fuel — fish and seals — is available locally.

Reflecting a people’s turnaround in values, the Legislative Assembly of Nunavut voted last May to declare the Canadian Inuit dog the official animal of their new territory. Mr. Carpenter, seen in his youth as an Arctic Don Quijote, is now affectionately greeted by Inuit elders as ”Qimmiliriji,” or ”Dog Man.”