p could be overheard by any one who listened. Altercations went
on with clangorous fury. Almost every party was in division. Some
enthusiastic individual had made a find, or had seen some one else
who had. His cackle reached other groups, and out of the dark hulking
figures loomed to listen or to throw in hot missiles of profanity.
Phrases multiplied, mingling inextricably.

"Morgan claims thirty cents to the pan ... good creek claim ... his
sluice is about ready ... a clean-up last night ... I don't believe
it.... No, Sir, I wouldn't give a hundred dollars for the whole damn
moose pasture.... Well, it's good enough for me.... I tell you it's
rotten, the whole damn cheese.... You've got to stand in with the
police or you can't get...." and so on and on unendingly, without
coherence. I went to sleep only when the sound of the wordy warfare
died away.

I permitted myself a day of rest. Borrowing a boat next day, we went
out upon the water and up to the mouth of Pine Creek, where we panned
some dirt to amuse ourselves. The lake was like liquid glass, the
bottom visible at an enormous depth. It made me think of the
marvellous water of McDonald Lake in the Kalispels. I steered the
boat (with a long-handled spade) and so was able to look about me and
absorb at ease the wonderful beauty of this unbroken and unhewn
wilderness. The clouds were resplendent, and in every direction the
lake vistas were ideally beautiful and constantly changing.

Toward night the sky grew thick and heavy with clouds. The water of
the lake was like molten jewels, ruby and amethyst. The boat seemed
floating in some strange, ethereal substance hitherto unknown to
man--translucent and iridescent. The mountains loomed like dim purple
pillars at the western gate of the world, and the rays of the
half-hidden sun plunging athwart these sentinels sank deep into the
shining flood. Later the sky cleared, and the inverted mountains in
the lake were scarcely less vivid than those which rose into the sky.

The next day I spent with gold pan and camera, working my way up
Spruce Creek, a branch of Pine. I found men cheerily at work getting
out sluice boxes and digging ditches. I panned everywhere, but did
not get much in the way of colors, but the creek seemed to grow
better as I went up, and promised very rich returns. I came back
rushing, making five miles just inside an hour, hungry and tired.

The crowded camp thinned out. The faint-hearted ones who had no