At the 25 mile post the trail forks rather unexpect- 

 edly. For the first and only time in all those weary 

 miles some one has had the temerity to break away from 

 the original trail as laid down by red Jim Geseek, and 

 trace out an independent course through the wilderness. 

 Originality this idea certainly had, but the packer who 

 has tried this new venture is not so sure of its wisdom. 

 The old trail, stony though it is, is carpeted with ori- 

 ental luxury compared with this new, rock-ribbed ven- 

 ture. We rested at the forks and pondered over the pos- 

 sible lure that might have led men on over that 15 miles 

 of rock pile to the far west end of Gunflint, but it is 

 not until several days later that we actually found that 

 lure. 



For the present we gave it up and followed on after 

 Jim Geseek as many a wiser man had done before us, 

 Around a few small lakes it led the way, through bea- 

 ver ponds and over hills of rock. And there, on quite a 

 respectable hill, twenty-eight miles out, was a portage 

 the first indication that there were real lakes in the 

 country. "Hungry Jack Lake" the portage sign said, 

 "55 paces." It was a temptation to have a look, but 

 we were bound eleswhere and the shadows were getting 

 long. We should have yielded, for the sheer rock 

 cliffs of Hungry Jack are worth a longer walk than 

 that any time. 



At the foot of the hill the trail runs plump on to^the 

 East end of West Bearskin and we had our first view 

 of some of those wonderful northern lakes that we had 

 come so far to see. There lay our course for the mor- 

 row, for the present the trail led on three-fourths of a 

 mile to the ranger cabin on Clearwater. A gloomy 



11 



