from Edmonton. I cannot now do better than turn to the diary kept, day by day, by my dear friend, the late Principal Grant, who acted as secretary to the expedition.
September 10th. We had come to the bases of the Rocky mountains and the sight of them was sufficient reward for all the toil of the preceeding fortnight. Curiously enough, as if to mark the occasion, we came into possession of "treasure trove" soon after we decided to camp for the night. A tent pole refusing to pentrate the ground more than about four inches, some blows from the axe were called for, to cut the supposed root of a sapling, but without effect other than blunting badly the edge of the axe. The hand of the axeman then felt for the obstruction, and with some effort drew out of the soil an ancient sword bayonet, the brazen hilt and steel blade in excellent preservation, but the leather scabbard partly eaten as if by some animal. It seemed strange in this vast and silent wilderness thus to come upon a European relic. How long had it lain where we found it? Are there many or any more bayonets embedded in this region? Its past history remains a mystery. It became part of our travelling impedimenta for the rest of the journey, and for nearly thirty-five years, which have since passed away, this "treasure trove" has found another resting place in my Ottawa home.
The Athabaska fell six inches during the night. Got away from camp at 7.30 a.m., and for two hours had a delightful ride to Prairie river. The trail ran along a terrace of shingle or alluvial flats, and was free from fallen timber and muskegs. Most of the flowers were out of blossom. Few, however, thought of plants to-day or of anything but the mountains that stood in massive grandeur, thirty miles ahead, but on account of the morning light, in which every point came out clear, seemingly just on the other side of each new
