actly five hours of most exhausting toil to cross the
river and its flat. We worked like beavers, we sweated like hired
men, wading up to our knees in water, and covered with mud, brushing
in a road over the quicksand for the horses to walk. The Ewe-necked
bay was fairly crazy with fear of the mud, and it was necessary to
lead him over every foot of the way. We went into camp for the first
time too late to eat by daylight. It became necessary for us to use a
candle inside the tent at about eleven o'clock.

The horses were exhausted, and crazy for feed. It was a struggle to
get them unpacked, so eager were they to forage. Ladrone, always
faithful, touched my heart by his patience and gentleness, and his
reliance upon me. I again heard a gray wolf howl as I was sinking off
to sleep.

THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF

O a shadowy beast is the gaunt gray wolf!
And his feet fall soft on a carpet of spines;
Where the night shuts quick and the winds are cold
He haunts the deeps of the northern pines.

His eyes are eager, his teeth are keen,
As he slips at night through the bush like a snake,
Crouching and cringing, straight into the wind,
To leap with a grin on the fawn in the brake.

He falls like a cat on the mother grouse
Brooding her young in the wind-bent weeds,
Or listens to heed with a start of greed
The bittern booming from river reeds.

He's the symbol of hunger the whole earth through,
His spectre sits at the door or cave,
And the homeless hear with a thrill of fear
The sound of his wind-swept voice on the air.

ABANDONED ON THE TRAIL

A poor old horse with down-cast mien and sad wild eyes,
Stood by the lonely trail--and oh!
He was so piteous lean.
He seemed to look a mild surprise
At all mankind that we should treat him so.
How hardily he struggled up the trail
And through the streams
All men should know.
Yet now abandoned to the wolf, his waiting foe,
He stood in silence, as an old man dreams.
And as his master left him, this he seemed to say:
"You leave me helpless by the path;
I do not curse you, but I pray
Defend me from the wolves' wild wrath!"
And yet his master rode away!

CHAPTER X

DOWN THE BULKLEY VALLEY

As we rose to the top of the divide which lies between the two
crossings of the Bulkley, a magnificent view of the coast range again
lightened the