must even now have been frozen, but the river current was so big and
strong that it had as yet warded off the frost shackles. When the
real winter came, however, it would be upon us in a night, and then
even this mighty torrent must submit to its power.

At one point the valley suddenly widened and the hills receded, and
here the river broke up into many small streams--no less than five--
but some four or five miles farther on these various channels came
together again, and then the growing hills closed in until they
pinched the river banks more closely than ever.

On the morning of October sixth we swung around a big bend in the
river, ran a short but precipitous rapid and suddenly came upon
another large river flowing in from the west. This stream came
through a sandy valley, and below the junction of the rivers the sand
banks rose on the east side a hundred feet or so above the water. The
increase here in the size of the stream was marked--it was wide and
deep. A terrific gale was blowing and caught us directly in our faces
as we turned the bend and lost the cover of the lee share above the
curve, and paddling ahead was impossible. The waves were so strong,
in fact, that we barely escaped swamping before we effected a landing.

We here found ourselves in an exceedingly unpleasant position. We
were only fitted with summer clothing, which was now insufficient
protection. There was not enough loose wood to make an open fire to
keep us warm for more than an hour or so, and we could not go on to
look for a better camping place. In a notch between the sand ridges
we found a small cluster of trees, between two of which our tent was
stretched, but it was mighty uncomfortable with no means of warming.
"If we only had our stovepipe now we'd be able to break enough small