The Antelope-Goat of the Pacific Slope. 95 



trees thrown pell-mell over, under, and astraddle of each other by 

 gales or avalanches. There are few more temper-trying moments 

 than when you find yourself " stalled " in one of these traps. After 

 an hour's hard and incessant work with two axes, you have managed 

 to penetrate one or two hundred yards into the labyrinth of fallen 

 trunks ; now creeping under an uprooted tree slanting against a 

 frail support, a slight push liable to send it crashing down on you ; 

 then " stomaching " a prostrate log three or four feet in height, and 

 by angry tugs and strong language coaxing your horse to follow 

 you, which he does by a grotesque buck-like leap, putting to a sore 

 test the " give " of the lash-ropes that fasten his pack ; here clearing 

 away with your hands a tangle of "snags," which protrude like daggers 

 from the fallen giant trees ; then cautiously testing the miry ground 

 in spots which are liable to engulf man and horse. After perhaps 

 an hour's work, you have reached the centre of the " windfall," 

 when suddenly you find yourself brought up by a formidable barrier 

 of trunks higher than your head, and garnished with a nasty chevaux 

 de frise of snags of more than ordinary density. It is impossible 

 to penetrate it, and you turn to your right, and then to your left, 

 vainly seeking an outlet, but there is none visible. Nothing remains 

 but to turn back and retrace your steps ; but, lo ! a similarly 

 desperate state of things faces you, for, as you happen to be on 

 ground sloping downward, the side of the barrier which you now 

 face is much higher, and therefore more impassable than the one 

 you breasted on your way into the snare. You are " corralled," and 

 without the aid of the axe, wielded by sturdy arms, you cannot 

 possibly escape. In burnt timber the difficulties are much the same, 

 if ^ot greater; for many of the burnt trees are still standing, 

 requiring apparently but a push to send them to the ground. Here 

 the pack-horses, with their unwieldy packs, become a source of 

 imminent danger. You cannot lead them, for there are not enough 

 men ; they refuse to be driven, and so you have to let them pick 

 their way at their own sweet will, bumping against fragilely poised 

 trees, which come down with a force that is liable to stampede or 

 to kill the beasts. 



