rapidity of actual descent, crossing a series of avalanche slides with a growth of tall alder bushes, the roots interlaced in all directions. We soon find ourselves five hundred feet below the summit. Our course had been westerly through a valley flanked on both sides by high mountains. We have difficulty in finding a place to pitch our tent, but finally secure a nook with area enough on the low gravelly bank of a brook of crystal, eighteen inches wide, but so small is the space available that the camp fire must be placed on the opposite side of the rivulet; the murmur of its waters at my feet was the sound by which I fell asleep.
The following morning, we continue through the valley walled in by mountains, the height of which must be counted by thousands of feet. We trudge slowly along the newly cut trail high up among the rocks, to descend again to the flats with its alders and devil's club, until at last we reach a surveyors' camp, twenty-four miles from the summit. Our horses have now to leave us, it being impossible for them to proceed further. The men must carry on their shoulders what we require, through an untrodden forest without path or trail of any kind. We are turning our backs on civilized life and its auxiliaries, again to meet them, we trust, at Kamloops, still many miles away.
We knew nothing of the country before us and had no assistance to look for from the world behind. We were following a tributary of the Columbia to the waters of that river, and this was the one guide for our direction. The walking was dreadful, climbing over and creeping under fallen trees of great size; wading through tall ferns reaching to the shoulder, and millions of devil's club viciously stabbing as we passed. We camp for the night on a high bank overlooking the Illecillewaet. Three days' march carry us scarcely more than ten miles. Rain falls incessantly. We reach the lower canyon of the Illecillewaet, and
