From Taku River to "Taylor Bay 



gered. We were safe, and then, too, came limp weari- 

 ness such as no ordinary work ever produces, how- 

 ever hard it may be. Wearily we stumbled down 

 through the woods, over logs and brush and roots, 

 devil's-clubs pricking us at every faint blundering 

 tumble. At last we got out on the smooth mud slope 

 with only a mile of slow but sure dragging of weary 

 limbs to camp. The Indians had been firing guns to 

 guide me and had a fine supper and fire ready, though 

 fearing they would be compelled to seek us in the 

 morning, a care not often applied to me. Stickeen and 

 I were too tired to eat much, and, strange to say, too 

 tired to sleep. Both of us, springing up in the night 

 again and again, fancied we were still on that dreadful 

 ice bridge in the shadow of death. 



Nevertheless, we arose next morning in newness of 

 life. Never before had rocks and ice and trees seemed 

 so beautiful and wonderful, even the cold, biting rain- 

 storm that was blowing seemed full of loving-kind- 

 ness, wonderful compensation for all that we had 

 endured, and we sailed down the bay through the 

 gray, driving rain rejoicing. 



