THE PELLY MOUNTAINS 197 



toes a most singular fact, which can only be accounted 

 for by the extreme dryness of the season. I cannot for- 

 get the last tramp up the branch between lofty slopes 

 topped by cliffs and jagged crest-lines, the magnificent 

 mountains close by on both sides fairly hanging over us, 

 as we climbed around canons through which the creek 

 dashed in cascades over precipices and roared through 

 deep gorges, until we reached the limit of the timber. 

 There, where two forks join, each flowing from moun- 

 tain-girdled basins, we made camp in the big spruces 

 near the bank of the chattering stream. 



Among all the spots in which I have ever camped, 

 that was one of the most enchanting. The hard, dry 

 ground was cushioned with spruce needles. Some of the 

 spruces with big, gnarled trunks spread their dark-green 

 foliage in canopy-tops, ornamented with thick clusters 

 of hanging cones. Most of them shot up spires, their 

 pointed tops giving the country that wild desolation so 

 characteristic of the northern wilderness. Many inclined 

 at sharp angles over the creek in graceful contrast, pleas- 

 antly breaking the austere straight lines of the forest, and 

 producing a bowery effect above the splashing current 

 as it raced in serpentine course down the valley. 



Directly in front was the rolling basin of the South 

 Fork, surrounded by a jumble of high peaks reared above 

 snow-striped slopes, all the blending colors of their 

 rocky surfaces in sharp contrast with the bright green of 

 the upper reaches of the basin below, while numerous 

 water-falls, pierced by the sun's rays, as they dashed down 

 the slopes, gleamed in different tints. 



