24 THE WILDERNESS OF THE UPPER YUKON 



pastures, more than a mile wide and two miles long. On 

 the south it was bordered by a high mountain chain, with 

 a continuous jagged crest swelling up into high peaks, 

 from which numerous spurs projected at right angles, en- 

 closing deep and narrow basins, the bottoms of which 

 consisted of rolling meadows of green grass. On the north 

 was a range of mountains, more broken by peaks, crags, 

 and canons, all sloping down to Tatonduk River waters, 

 finally forming a long, smooth, rolling ridge. Heavy 

 banks of snow lined every crest and peak; the canons and 

 ravines were filled with it and the mountain-sides appeared 

 streaked with white. White limestone, dark, almost black, 

 chert, and iron-stained rock, glowing red, all in sharp con- 

 trast, characterize these northern ranges. The summit 

 pastures sloped gently toward the west, where another 

 creek, formed between the ridges, flowed on to the Taton- 

 duk River. A mile down, looking through an opening in 

 the timber, I could see the creek, filled with snow and ice, 

 glistening under the sunlight like a bright lake, while 

 beyond it flowed through vast meadows toward the 

 north and again curved west at the foot of the ranges, not 

 far distant, which separated the waters of the Peel River 

 from those of the Yukon. Dwarf birch and willow were 

 scattered about the smooth, green sward, whose surface 

 was soft and broken by tiny rivulets flowing to the creek 

 below. 



I seated myself and turned my field-glasses toward the 

 south range. Suddenly within the field, two miles dis- 

 tant, appeared four sheep feeding on the saddle below 

 the peak of a spur connecting with the range. More care- 



