ver. Past Richardson
where the next night is spent, a decayed mining and trading town that
dates back to the stampedes of 1905-6 when it was thought the upper
Tanana would prove rich in gold, past Tenderfoot Creek on which the
discoveries were made, past the mouth of the Big Delta with the great
bluff on the opposite shore and the rushing black water at its foot that
never entirely closes all the winter, and on the other hand the wide
barrens of the Big Delta itself giving the whole fine sweep of the
Alaskan range, we came at length to McCarthy's, the last telegraph
station on the river,--for the line strikes across country thence to
Valdez following the government trail,--and there spent another night,
and here we leave the government-made trail and take to the river
surface and the wilderness.

[Illustration: A PLEASANT WOODLAND TRAIL.]

[Illustration: AN ALASKAN CHIEF AND HIS HENCHMAN.]

Twelve miles through the woods along the left bank of the river brought
us to the aptly named Clearwater Creek, a tributary that comes only from
the foot-hills and carries no glacial water. This stream by reason of
hot springs runs wide open all the winter and must be crossed by a
ferry--a raft on a heavy wire. The man who owned the ferry and the house
adjacent was gone from home, so we proceeded to cross as best we could.
The raft was so small that first we took the dogs across then unloaded
the sled and took part of the load, and returned for the remainder
and the sled itself. Finally a canoe was loaded on the raft and, when it
had been moored on the side we found it, Arthur paddled himself back. It
was a strange scene, rafting and paddling a canoe in interior Alaska on
the 2d of March, with the thermometer at -15 deg.. Some eight miles farther
along the portage trail we came to a little cabin about dusk, but
disdaining its dirt and darkness we pitched our tent.

Another eighteen miles the next day is noted in my diary for pleasant
woodland travel and for the particular interest of the numerous animal
tracks we passed. Here a moose had crossed the trail, ploughing through
the snow like a great cart-horse; here for two or three miles a lynx had
urgent business in the direction of the Healy River. A lynx will always
follow a trail if there be one, and will pick out the best going on the
ice or snow in the absence of trail. I once followed a lynx track from
the head of the Dall River to its mouth, and, save for turning aside
occas