rm,
a fortunate thing at such a place. There are no exposures of rock
at the foot of this rapid; but along its upper part runs a ledge
of asphalt-like rock as smooth as a street pavement, with an outer
edge as neatly rounded as if done with a chisel. This was the finest
bit of tracking path on the river, excepting, perhaps, the great
pavement beneath the cliff at the Long Rapids.

In this region the river scenery changes to a succession of
cut-banks, exposed in all directions, and in almost all situations.
Immense towering hills of sand, or clay, are cut down vertically,
some facing the river, others at right angles to it, and others
inland, and almost inclosed by projecting shoulders of the wooded
heights. These cut-banks carry layers of stone here and there, and
are specked with boulders, and in some places massed into projecting
crests, which threaten destruction to the passer-by. Otherwise the
scenery is desolate, mountainous always, and wooded, but with much
burnt timber, which gives a dreary look to the region. The cut-banks
are unique, however, and would make the fortune of an Eastern river,
though here little noticed on account of their number.

It was now the 18th, and the weather was intensely hot, foreboding
change and the August freshet. We had camped about eight miles below
the Burnt Rapid, and the men were very tired, having been in the
water pretty much since morning. Directly opposite our camp was a
colossal cliff of clay, around which, looking upward, the river bent
sharply to the south-west, very striking as seen beneath an almost
full moon breaking from a pile of snowy clouds, whilst dark and
threatening masses gathered to the north. The early, foggy morning
revealed the freshet. The river, which had risen during the night,
and had forced the trackers from their beds to higher ground, was
littered from bank to bank with floating trees, logs and stumps,
lifted from many a drift up stream, and borne down by the furious
current. At one of the short breathing spells the water rose two
inches in twenty minutes, and the tracking became exceedingly bad,
the men floundering to their waists in water, or footing it
insecurely on steep and slippery ledges along the water's marge.
About mid-day the anticipated change took place in the weather.
Thick clouds closed in with a driving rain and a high raw wind,
presaging the end of summer.

It was now, of course, very bad going, and camp was made, in the
heavy ra