94 THE LOG OF A TIMBER CRUISER 



a week's work away, was the Animas, of which we 

 had already heard so much. We anticipated, half in 

 relief, half in anxiety, an early encounter with this 

 dreaded canyon and its tributaries. 



But just at this time the rainy season rather unex- 

 pectedly set in. A mild drizzle began on the seven- 

 teenth of June and was followed by a steady down- 

 pour that lasted three days. We spent this time in 

 camp, jibing the contours of adjoining runs and 

 transferring maps and estimates from our field note- 

 books to permanent section plats. Then on the 

 twenty-first Frazer decided to cross to the west side 

 and work northward from where we had left off un- 

 til the constant rain should cease. 



"If we attempt the Animas now," he explained, 

 "we'll find ourselves up against it for fair. We 

 could never stand that and the rain at the same 

 time." 



Some of us who had never gone through a rainy 

 season in the mountains were inclined to believe the 

 move unnecessary, but later were prone to admit its 

 wisdom. For besides the usual difficulties the 

 cruiser had now the added discomfort of being wet 

 through at least once a day. 



Each morning we started out under a cloudless 

 sky. Almost invariably, as the forenoon wore along, 

 a storm would overtake us. It was usually heralded 

 by a first faint mutter of thunder, just audible. A 

 few moments later a small black cloud appeared 



