man was frozen; there was danger of cramp, for it would have been a great risk to carry a disabled man on horseback in such intense cold. We had with us three quarts of strong tea, with egg beaten up in it, invaluable on such an expedition. Ascending the Pass, we encountered deep drifts, through which we had to shove our way, often waist deep; half afraid we might have to leave the horses to their fate, the packhorse especially, till we relieved him of his load, making a cache in the snow of the mails, my lantern, and luggage. On the summit, looking down, no sign of the road which is cut in the hill-side was visible; all was one smooth sheet of snow for the first mile of descent.
"Now, lads," said McKay, "make long reins to lead the horses with; keep some distance from each other; slow's the word. If the snow starts slipping, over we go, and nothing can save us; follow me." It was the most dangerous part of our journey, for the hill-side slopes so abruptly that any displacement of the snow would have swept us off our feet into the ravine beneath, many hundred feet in depth. Halfway down, overhanging rocks sheltered us, and at last the welcome sight of the little hotel, where men were watching our descent. Some of them hung their heads as McKay sung out, "Got through, all hands safe!" In his young days he had been a whaler in the Arctic, and he added, turning round to us, "Come along, boys. I'm a teetotaller, as you know, but after this, we're all going to have a nip of something in our tea. Get your boots and socks off; don't go near the fire; rub your feet till they get warm." Boots, gaiters, and trousers were frozen stiff, and socks, except in my case, for I had thick woollen stockings drawn up
