“How big a team do you want?” inquired the colonel, turning to the boys.
“What do you advise?” replied Tom.
The Indian thought for a moment. “Well, nine dogs are enough even for the heaviest loads. But I’ll give you two more dogs for spares. Then, if you like, you can split them into two smaller teams for light hauling.”
Opening a gate, he went into one of the runs and brought out a small, wiry husky with a mask of
118 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ATOMIC BLASTER
silver-white fur around the eyes and muzzle, outlined by blackish fur on the head and ears.
“This is Klootch,” he announced. “She’ll be your lead dog.”
“I thought lead dogs were supposed to be big and powerful,” Bud said.
“It’s more important to have one that’s smart and fast. And Klootch is all of that. She’s a Siberian husky.”
So that the boys might accustom themselves to handling a dog team, Colonel Eagle Friend hitched up two outfits-one for Tom and one for Bud.
As the boys mounted the sled runners and grasped the handle bars, he called, “All set?”
“Sure.” Bud grinned. “But how do you start these rigs?”
“Like this,” replied the Indian. With a crack of his long rawhide whip, he shouted, “Mush!” Instantly the dogs strained against the harness and the sleds glided away.
“Hey, this is almost as much fun as riding a jet!” yelled Bud. “Let’s make it a race, chum!”
“You’re on, driver!”
Picking up the whips from their sleds, the boys cracked them in the air and shouted words of encouragement to their teams.
The dogs put on speed, stretching their legs farther and faster with every stride. Soon the sleds
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