198 THE WILDERNESS OF THE UPPER YUKON 



The mountains around the basins of the East Fork, 

 perhaps smoother in outline, were equally high, and even 

 richer in color. 



Behind, almost overhanging the camp, reared up a 

 long, high, savage range of limestone and granite; its 

 slopes carved into canons and precipices; its crests ser- 

 rated in rising and falling outlines, trimmed with radiating 

 buttresses, spired peaks, and bands of snow, richer in con- 

 trasting colors than any of the other ranges observed in 

 the Pelly Mountains. 



But these inspiring views were near. Beyond, stretched 

 a bewildering sea of summits, the more distant ones fading 

 to the sight and suggesting the mysterious unknown. 



The evening light glowed in the sky as we threw the 

 load off the tired horse and made a fire. Luminous banks 

 of burning crimson clouds hung over the summits of the 

 South Fork; the sky in the east was cold and gray, while 

 the light rays of the sun, then sunken below the nearer 

 mountains, failed to reach the valley, then overspread 

 with a deep purple hue, in sombre contrast to the brill- 

 iantly lighted mountains beyond. We did not attempt to 

 erect the shelter that night, but slept beneath the spruces. 



July 27. Early in the morning I started off to obtain, 

 if possible, a supply of meat for camp. 



No description of the Pelly Mountains has ever been 

 written. When Dr. Dawson spoke of them as dome- 

 shaped granitic masses, smoother to the west, more ser- 

 rated to the east, covered with a small herbaceous growth, 

 slopes and peaks extremely uniform, shaped by normal 

 processes of denudation, he was necessarily judging from 



