surface of a stream much easier walking than the 

 soft snow. All went well until I came to some 

 rapids, where, with no warning whatever, the thin 

 ice dropped me into the cold current among the 

 boulders. I scrambled to my feet, with the ice 

 flying like broken glass. The water came only a 

 little above my knees, but as I had gone under 

 the surface, and was completely drenched, I 

 made an enthusiastic move toward the bank. Now 

 snowshoes are not adapted for walking either in 

 swift water or among boulders. I realized this 

 thoroughly after they had several times tripped 

 me, sprawling, into the liquid cold. Finally I sat 

 down in the water, took them off, and came out 

 gracefully. 



I gained the bank with chattering teeth and an 

 icy armor. My pocket thermometer showed two 

 degrees above zero. Another storm was bearing 

 down upon me from the range, and the sun was 

 sinking. But the worst of it all was that there 

 were several miles of rough and strange country 

 between me and Grand Lake that would have to 

 be made in the dark. I did not care to take any 

 more chances on the ice, so I spent a hard hour 



21 



