ate. Everybody
stiff. Took the left-hand creek that comes in here, and had
a hard pull over a little cataract. This should be called
Summit Creek. It doesn't seem to have any name. It runs
narrow, and fringed with alders. Very crooked. Saw some
jack-snipe and a robin to-day, up here on the summit of the
Rockies, almost at the Arctic Sea and above the Arctic
Circle!

"We had to drop the line in the brush here and use paddle
and pole. Went for an hour and a half and then could see
lake on the right. Small creek coming in. Another lake
ahead. Everything was blank. It looked like a big country
and we had no map. John set down everything as we found it
out for ourselves. We climbed the foot-hills to look about.
Of course we wanted to find the headwaters of the Bell
River, or rather the Little Bell, which runs into the Big
Bell, and then into the Porcupine, which runs into the
Yukon, but we did not know which gap held the headwaters of
the Bell. On the left we saw a chain of little lakes, four
or five of them. Supposed there might be channels, so bore
to left toward these lakes. We're now on a flat country
high up, with rock walls far away on either side and
mountains on ahead. We are on the tundra now. It is broken
up into humps. The French call them '_tetes des femmes_,' or
'woman heads,' because of the long grass that hangs down
from the top. Mighty hard to walk over. There is a land
portage from Fort McPherson to the summit. A Catholic priest
has made it, and he used snow-shoes on these 'woman heads,'
although there was no snow. A man could hardly walk in any
other way.

"We left two lakes to the right, followed the creek, and
came to an old landing. Camped at 6 P.M. to eat. Instead of
two lakes up here there are five! We don't know where we are
going, but are hanging to our creek. Signs of a portage
other side of the lake, so guess we are on the right trail.
This is a blind pass. Some danger, I suppose. We are not
scared. We all hang together, because any one left here
would be helpless.

"_Saturday, July 26th._--Flies not so bad. Tried out our
creek farther and came into third small lake. Cut a portage
into next lake. The creek is very blind--wanders around
through the willows and grass. Jesse and John got away