e or six outfits camped on a
beautiful grassy bank overlooking the river, and forming a most
satisfying picture. The bells on the grazing horses were tinkling,
and from sparkling fires, thin columns of smoke arose. Some of the
young men were bathing, while others were washing their shirts in the
sunny stream. There was a cheerful sound of whistling and rattling of
tinware mingled with the sound of axes. Nothing could be more jocund,
more typical, of the young men and the trail. It was one of the few
pleasant camps of the long journey.

It was raining when we awoke, but before noon it cleared sufficiently
to allow us to pack. We started at one, though the bushes were loaded
with water, and had we not been well clothed in waterproof, we should
have been drenched to the bone. We rode for four hours over a good
trail, dodging wet branches in the pouring rain. It lightened at
five, and we went into camp quite dry and comfortable.

We unpacked near an Indian ranch belonging to an old man and his
wife, who came up at once to see us. They were good-looking, rugged
old souls, like powerful Japanese. They could not speak Chinook, and
we could not get much out of them. The old wife toted a monstrous big
salmon up the hill to sell to us, but we had more fish than we could
eat, and were forced to decline. There was a beautiful spring just
back of the cabin, and the old man seemed to take pleasure in having
us get our water from it. Neither did he object to our horses feeding
about his house, where there was very excellent grass. It was a
charming camping-place, wild flowers made the trail radiant even in
the midst of rain. The wild roses grew in clumps of sprays as high
as a horse's head.

Just before we determined to camp we had passed three or four outfits
grouped together on the sward on the left bank of the river. As we
rode by, one of the men had called to me saying: "You had better
camp. It is thirty miles from here to feed." To this I had merely
nodded, giving it little attention; but now as we sat around our
campfire, Burton brought the matter up again: "If it is thirty miles
to feed, we will have to get off early to-morrow morning and make as
big a drive as we can, while the horses are fresh, and then make the
latter part of the run on empty stomachs."

"Oh, I think they were just talking for our special benefit," I
replied.

"No, they were in earnest. One of them came out to see me. He said he
got his pointer from t