The Grayling at Caribou Crossing 41 



through endless chains of rock-bound lakes, each hidden in 

 its cleft of rocks. They knew nothing of boats, or rafts, 

 or the breaking up of the ice, nothing of gold, or men, or 

 Alaska. And the dogs were just as ignorant and had not 

 even seen a map of Alaska, and did not know beforehand 

 that they were going there. 



From Skagway, a wild Bedlam of incongruous elements, 

 with its hero mayor, chief of the Vigilantes — " men with 

 the hearts of Vikings and the simple faith of a child " — the 

 trail goes up the boisterous river. Through the fir woods, 

 past the mouths of glaciers, into a great amphitheater like 

 that at the foot of the Spliigen Pass, then in long zigzags 

 and windings, past reckless, splashing waterfalls and un- 

 bridged chasms to the foot of the moss-covered White Pass. 

 Then up the Pass to its gusty Summit Lake and the long 

 ravine-like chain of lakes at the head of the Yukon, which 

 may keep one guessing for miles as to the way past or 

 around them. 



In a sheltered depression on the summit is a place which 

 should be historic. Here every band of pilgrims has 

 camped for the night. Here it has cast away its lug- 

 gage, discarded its horses, abandoned its dogs. Into the 

 springy heather-grown basin, sheltered from the wind, we 

 may find, trodden into the mud, harnesses, sleds, bottles, 

 cups, plates, hats, trousers, neckties, bones of dogs, bones of 

 horses, ravens, newspapers, playing-cards, cigarette papers, 

 shirts, collars, every evidence of a failing civilization. The 

 dead ravens tell the tale of their premature attacks on dogs 

 and horses, for the men have pistols, and they are the last 

 to go. Near this place, some later humorist has built a 

 house of empty beer bottles, set together with mortar — a 

 house big enough to shelter you and me from the storm. 

 Bones of men are strewn along the way — you can trace 

 the trail by the soiled and dislocated heather — but all the 

 bones, so far as I know, have had a decent burial. Some 

 of them, to be sure, were buried under avalanches, but that 



