198 CAMP-FIRES IN THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 



" It was then so late that we started at once for camp 

 in order to get off the crags before dark. It grew dark 

 before we reached camp, but at last we were guided in by 

 the camp-fire, thoroughly exhausted, and half famished' 

 for water. I never knew Kaiser to drink so long as then, 

 and his feet were so raw and sore that he scarcely could 

 bear to have them doctored." 



Mr. Phillips's narrative, as he records it, does not half 

 adequately portray the frightful risks that he ran on that 

 memorable afternoon. That night, I think he was awake 

 all night, save once. Then he threshed around in his 

 sleeping-bag, and clutched wildly at the silk tent- roof 

 over his head. 



"Hey, John!" I called out sharply, to waken him. 

 " What's the matter? Are you having a nightmare? " 



"Oh!" he groaned. "I thought I was falling off 

 those rocks, clear down to the tents ! " 



Just before breakfast the next morning Mr. Phillips 

 said to Mack in a quiet aside, " How did you sleep, 

 Mack? " 



"I didn't sleep none!" said Mack, solemnly. 

 " Whenever I dozed off I dreamt that old Oramus was 

 buttin' us off them rocks. Every time I lit I shore 

 made it lively for Charlie." 



They were not the first men whose sleep had been 

 destroyed by the recrudescence of the horrors of the 

 rocks. 



The next day men and dog rested quietly in camp, too 

 tired and sore to move out. 



