into a
deep canyon running still to the northwest. After descending for some
hours we took a trail which branched sharply to the northeast, and
climbed heavily to a most beautiful camping-spot between the peaks,
with good grass, and water, and wood all around us.

We were still uncertain of our whereabouts, but all the boys were
fairly jubilant. "This would be a splendid camp for a few weeks,"
said partner.

That night as the sun set in incommunicable splendor over the snowy
peaks to the west the empty land seemed left behind. We went to sleep
with the sound of a near-by mountain stream in our ears, and the
voice of an eagle sounding somewhere on the high cliffs.

The next day we crossed another divide and entered another valley
running north. Being confident that this _was_ the Stikeen, we camped
early and put our little house up. It was raining a little. We had
descended again to the aspens and clumps of wild roses. It was good
to see their lovely faces once more after our long stay in the wild,
cold valleys of the upper lands. The whole country seemed drier, and
the vegetation quite different. Indeed, it resembled some of the
Colorado valleys, but was less barren on the bottoms. There were
still no insects, no crickets, no bugs, and very few birds of any
kind.

All along the way on the white surface of the blazed trees were
messages left by those who had gone before us. Some of them were
profane assaults upon the road-gang. Others were pathetic inquiries:
"Where in hell are we?"--"How is this for a prairie route?"--"What
river is this, anyhow?" To these pencillings others had added
facetious replies. There were also warnings and signs to help us keep
out of the mud.

We followed the same stream all day. Whether the Iskoot or not we did
not know. The signs of lower altitude thickened. Wild roses met us
again, and strawberry blossoms starred the sunny slopes. The grass
was dry and ripe, and the horses did not relish it after their long
stay in the juicy meadows above. We had been wet every day for nearly
three weeks, and did not mind moisture now, but my shoes were rapidly
going to pieces, and my last pair of trousers was frazzled to the
knees.

Nearly every outfit had lame horses like our old bay, hobbling along
bravely. Our grub was getting very light, which was a good thing for
the horses; but we had an occasional grouse to fry, and so as long as
our flour held out we were well fed.

It became warmer eac