that wide wilderness. The scene was impressive beyond description.
It gave me a peculiar feeling of solemnity and awe that I shall
never forget.

We found on our hill a few dead twigs of sub-Arctic shrubbery with
which to make a fire to broil our caribou ribs, and gathered some
mildly acid berries of a variety neither of us had ever seen
before, which we ate as a dessert. After luncheon George said he
thought we had better go to the westward to look for the river.

"But how can it come through those mountains?" I asked.

"I don't know as it can," he replied. "But," pointing to one of
the range, "I want to take a look at the country beyond from that
high mountain."

So we returned to our canoe, and paddled to the westward a few
miles through two lake expansions, which brought us to the foot of
the mountains. We landed at a place where a small creek tumbled
down through a rocky pass. George went up his mountain alone.
During his absence, with my emergency kit, I caught ten six-inch
trout to be divided between us for supper, as only two of our
caribou ribs remained. Near dark George came back. After climbing
half way to the summit of his mountain, he had encountered
perpendicular walls of rock that blocked his further progress.

We made a fire of old wigwam poles, and roasted our fish before it
on a flat stone. A quart of hot tea between us washed down our
meagre supper, and then we made a bed of boughs. But when we tried
to sleep the icy wind that blew through the pass caused us to draw