k we've made mighty good time this far, for I believe we
must be considerably over a hundred miles from Fort McPherson to this
place where we stand."

"It's a fine morning for a little rest," suggested Rob. "Maybe it
wouldn't be wrong to make a few photographs. I'd like to make a
picture of that high peak across from here, which we ought to call
Castle Mountain. That's the mountain we've been hunting for the last
three or four days."

"Agreed!" said Uncle Dick. "I think it would be an excellent plan to
rest here for a time to-day, and then it would be no harm to start on.
Will you let me see the notes of your diary, Rob? We've been relying
on you to keep a record of our journey across the mountains, because
I've been too busy and, to tell the truth, too worried, to have much
time for making notes of the trip."

Rob produced his diary, and Uncle Dick read it page by page. "Fine!"
said he. "Fine! This doesn't go into many details, but it will cover
the story of our trip as well as I could have done it myself. Now,
after we get started down the Bell and the Porcupine, I want you to
keep up the same thing, so that we will have some sort of a record of
our journey in this wild part of the world.

"I'll have to admit to you boys, now that we are alone, that I don't
think we ought to waste any time in here. The two Indian boys who have
left us have cut down our supplies considerably, but as they can't
possibly get back to McPherson in less than four days, it seemed only
fair to share with them what little we had, though it means less for
us. We'll have to hurry."

"I'm so sick and tired of rabbits by this time," grumbled John, "that
I don't ever want to see one again. I don't like to clean them any
more, and I don't like to smell them when they are cooking in the
kettle."

"You're not the first man in the North to get tired of rabbits," said
Uncle Dick. "For a day or two they are all right, but there is really
very little strength in the meat. They are, however, the main prop of
the fur trade in the North, and the mainstay of the savage population
as well. Except for rabbits, all these natives would starve to death
in the winter-time. They have almost nothing to eat from one season to
the next after the caribou have gone by."

"Where is the caribou migration in here?" asked John.

"It won't pass here at all," replied their leader. "They tell me that
the caribou are north of the Porcupine, toward the Arctic, and that