, in company with Doctor G. (a fellow prospector), started on my
return to the coast over the far-famed Chilcoot Pass.

At 9 A.M. we took the little ferry for the head of Lindernan Lake.
The doctor paid my fare. The boat, a wabbly craft, was crowded with
returning Klondikers, many of whom were full of importance and talk
of their wealth; while others, sick and worn, with a wistful gleam in
their eyes, seemed eager to get back to civilization and medical
care. There were some women, also, who had made a fortune in
dance-houses and were now bound for New York and Paris, where dresses
could be had in the latest styles and in any quantities.

My travelling mate, the doctor, was a tall and vigorous man from
Winnipeg, accustomed to a plainsman's life, hardy and resolute. He
said, "We ought to make Dyea to-day." I said in reply, "Very well, we
can try."

It was ten o'clock when we left the little boat and hit the trail,
which was thirty miles long, and passed over the summit three
thousand six hundred feet above the sea. The doctor's pace was
tremendous, and we soon left every one else behind.

I carried my big coat and camera, which hindered me not a little. For
the first part of the journey the doctor preceded me, his broad
shoulders keeping off the powerful wind and driving mist, which grew
thicker as we rose among the ragged cliffs beside a roaring stream.

That walk was a grim experience. Until two o'clock we climbed
resolutely along a rough, rocky, and wooded trail, with the heavy
mist driving into our faces. The road led up a rugged canyon and over
a fairly good wagon road until somewhere about twelve o'clock. Then
the foot trail deflected to the left, and climbed sharply over
slippery ledges, along banks of ancient snows in which carcasses of
horses lay embedded, and across many rushing little streams. The way
grew grimmer each step. At last we came to Crater Lake, and from that
point on it was a singular and sinister land of grassless crags
swathed in mist. Nothing could be seen at this point but a desolate,
flat expanse of barren sands over which gray-green streams wandered
in confusion, coming from darkness and vanishing in obscurity.
Strange shapes showed in the gray dusk of the Crater. It was like a
landscape in hell. It seemed to be the end of the earth, where no
life had ever been or could long exist.

Across this flat to its farther wall we took our way, facing the
roaring wind now heavy with clouds of r