328 CAMP-FIRES IN THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 



physical condition to perform, Huddleston, our cook, 

 pluckily volunteered to change work with Smith; and 

 he flew at the chopping of tough jack pines as if he 

 liked it. 



On the following day, Mr. Phillips and I packed 

 up all our skins and heads, and made them ready for the 

 trail. The last photographs of the camp were taken. 

 When the Norboes and Huddleston dragged wearily into 

 camp, at night, they sadly confessed that the trail-cutting 

 was far from being finished. At least two days' work 

 remained, possibly three. Being already behind my 

 schedule time, and urgently anxious to get in touch with 

 a telegraph wire, I proposed to Mr. Phillips that we 

 break through on foot, and walk to Michel by the end 

 of the following day. It was only twenty-five miles, or 

 thereabouts, but getting down and out of Avalanche 

 Valley made it equal to forty on a fair trail. 



At daylight on the morning of September 29, John 

 and I took our rifles and one camera, and set out. The 

 only incident of the promenade worth mentioning is the 

 down-timber feature. 



Thus far I have said little about "log-running" in 

 getting over bad down timber. What we did pre- 

 viously in that line was like child's play in comparison 

 with that forenoon's record. To be appreciated, down 

 timber must be experienced; for seeing is not all of 

 believing. 



Fallen jack pines are the curse of British Columbia. 

 They hinder all enterprises, and help none. They never 

 decay, and the longer they lie the tougher they are. 



