N THE PLAIN

The horned toad creeping along the sand,
The rattlesnake asleep beneath the sage,
Have now a subtle fatal charm.
In their sultry calm, their love of heat,
I read once more the burning page
Of nature under cloudless skies.
O pitiless and splendid land!
Mine eyelids close, my lips are dry
By force of thy hot floods of light.
Soundless as oil the wind flows by,
Mine aching brain cries out for night!

CHAPTER VI

THE BEGINNING OF THE LONG TRAIL

As we left the bank of the Fraser River we put all wheel tracks
behind. The trail turned to the west and began to climb, following an
old swath which had been cut into the black pines by an adventurous
telegraph company in 1865. Immense sums of money were put into this
venture by men who believed the ocean cable could not be laid. The
work was stopped midway by the success of Field's wonderful plan, and
all along the roadway the rusted and twisted wire lay in testimony of
the seriousness of the original design.

The trail was a white man's road. It lacked grace and charm. It cut
uselessly over hills and plunged senselessly into ravines. It was an
irritation to all of us who knew the easy swing, the circumspection,
and the labor-saving devices of an Indian trail. The telegraph line
was laid by compass, not by the stars and the peaks; it evaded
nothing; it saved distance, not labor.

My feeling of respect deepened into awe as we began to climb the
great wooded divide which lies between the Fraser and the Blackwater.
The wild forest settled around us, grim, stern, and forbidding. We
were done with civilization. Everything that was required for a home
in the cold and in the heat was bound upon our five horses. We must
carry bed, board, roof, food, and medical stores, over three hundred
and sixty miles of trail, through all that might intervene of flood
and forest.

This feeling of awe was emphasized by the coming on of the storm in
which we camped that night. We were forced to keep going until late
in order to obtain feed, and to hustle in order to get everything
under cover before the rain began to fall. We were only twelve miles
on our way, but being wet and cold and hungry, we enjoyed the full
sense of being in the wilderness. However, the robins sang from the
damp woods and the loons laughed from hidden lakes.

It rained all night, and in the morning we were forced to get out in
a cold, wet dawn. It