THE WAPITI. 197 



point it runs like a mill-race, in its narrow 

 winding bed, between immense walls of 

 queerly carved and colored rock which tower 

 aloft in almost perpendicular cliffs. Late one 

 afternoon in the fall of '90 Ferguson and I 

 clambe'red down into the canyon, with a couple 

 of rods, and in an hour caught all the fish we 

 could carry. It then lacked much less than 

 an hour o: nightfall, and we had a hard climb 

 to get out of the canyon before darkness over- 

 took us ; as there was not a vestige of a path, 

 and as the climbing was exceedingly laborious 

 and at one or two points not entirely without 

 danger, the rocks being practicable in very 

 few places, we could hardly have made much 

 progress after it became too dark to see. 

 Each of us carried the bag of trout in turn, 

 and I personally was nearly done out when 

 we reached the top ; and then had to trot 

 three miles to the horses. 



