alty could save him.
Hunger such as ours considered itself very humane in stopping short
of the slaughter of the mother bird. The cock was easily
distinguished by reason of his party-colored plumage and his pink
eyes.

We spent the next forenoon in camp to let our horses feed up, and
incidentally to rest our own weary bones. All the forenoon great,
gray clouds crushed against the divide behind us, flinging themselves
in rage against the rocks like hungry vultures baffled in their
chase. We exulted over their impotence. "We are done with you, you
storms of the Skeena--we're out of your reach at last!"

We were confirmed in this belief as we rode down the trail, which was
fairly pleasant except for short periods, when the clouds leaped the
snowy walls behind and scattered drizzles of rain over us. Later the
clouds thickened, the sky became completely overcast, and my
exultation changed to dismay, and we camped at night as desolate as
ever, in the rain, and by the side of a little marsh on which the
horses could feed only by wading fetlock deep in the water. We were
wet to the skin, and muddy and tired.

I could no longer deceive myself. Our journey had become a grim race
with the wolf. Our food grew each day scantier, and we were forced to
move each day and every day, no matter what the sky or trail might
be. Going over our food carefully that night, we calculated that we
had enough to last us ten days, and if we were within one hundred and
fifty miles of the Skeena, and if no accident befell us, we would be
able to pull in without great suffering.

But accidents on the trail are common. It is so easy to lose a couple
of horses, we were liable to delay and to accident, and the chances
were against us rather than in our favor. It seemed as though the
trail would never mend. We were dropping rapidly down through dwarf
pines, down into endless forests of gloom again. We had splashed,
slipped, and tumbled down the trail to this point with three horses
weak and sick. The rain had increased, and all the brightness of the
morning on the high mountain had passed away. For hours we had walked
without a word except to our horses, and now night was falling in
thick, cold rain. As I plodded along I saw in vision and with great
longing the plains, whose heat and light seemed paradise by contrast.

The next day was the Fourth of July, and such a day! It rained all
the forenoon, cold, persistent, drizzling rain. We hung around the