Boisé, the last outpost of civilization, and on the sixth day we were
travelling eastward under the granite mountain parapets.

On the evening of the sixth day out from Fort Boisé we went into camp
for the last time before entering the unknown land.

I could see it already through my field-glasses, and while William was
building the fire I climbed up among the rocks above and sat down,
glasses levelled, to study the prospect.

There was nothing either extraordinary or forbidding in the landscape
which stretched out beyond; to the right the solid palisade of granite
cut off the view; to the left the palisade continued, an endless
barrier of sheer cliffs crowned with pine and hemlock. But the
interesting section of the landscape lay almost directly in front of
me--a rent in the mountain-wall through which appeared to run a level,
arid plain, miles wide, and as smooth and even as a highroad.

There could be no doubt concerning the significance of that rent in
the solid mountain-wall; and, moreover, it was exactly as William
Spike had described it. However, I called to him and he came up from
the smoky camp-fire, axe on shoulder.

"Yep," he said, squatting beside me; "the Graham Glacier used to
meander through that there hole, but somethin' went wrong with the
earth's in'ards an' there was a bust-up."

"And you saw it, William?" I said, with a sigh of envy.

"Hey? Seen it? Sure I seen it! I was to Spoutin' Springs, twenty mile