32 THE LOG OF A TIMBER CEUISER 



ter. I was simply in a funk, that was all there was 

 to it. 



"Is there much of it like this?" I inquired feebly. 



"Well," replied Frazer, with chilling cheerful- 

 ness, "the Black Eange, as a whole, is considered 

 about the roughest country in the District. I've 

 been over a good deal of it in a preliminary survey 

 and, while some places are better than this, some 

 are worse. The Animas Canyon region, for in- 

 stance, is a fright. But just forget about the fu- 

 ture! It's not here yet. Take each day and each 

 run and each chain that you pace as it comes, and 

 you'll find it will all work out. You'll have to get 

 on to pacing and sketching contours first. That will 

 keep your mind busy for the time being. To-morrow 

 we'll try a run. Bob and Wetherby have cruised 

 before, so they can work alone, and I'll take you out 

 with me. It will be the easiest way for you to get 

 on to what you need. You won't have any trouble 

 learning. Take my word for it, in a few weeks 

 you'll look back at to-night and laugh at yourself!" 



"I hope so," I answered, and tried to speak con- 

 vincingly, though the strength that conviction gives 

 to words was, I fear, wholly lacking. 



