CAMP FIRES IN THE YUKON 83 



peak which was absolutely isolated from the ridge 

 and which we could not climb in the few hours of 

 daylight remaining. Baker and the writer climbed 

 across the face of the rock slope to firmer footing 

 and then went carefully down the ridge, but Hoyt 

 started down the rock slide, coasting along on the 

 moving stream of rocks, and reached the bottom 

 almost before Baker and the writer had started our 

 slower but safer mode of descent. 



On the way down, with the glasses we picked up a 

 large bull caribou on the bench across the creek three 

 miles distant, and the writer decided to try to reach 

 the animal before darkness set in. Count Creek was 

 too high for fording without going up-stream, so 

 we went up to the glacier where the creek rushes 

 out from its tunneled course through the ice, but the 

 water was too deep and the crevasses prevented 

 crossing on the ice. We finally succeeded in fording 

 lower down and in the dusk climbed the canyon walls 

 to the bench above, only to find the caribou had left 

 his tundra couch and was rambling away from us 

 three miles ahead. There was nothing left but to 

 come back to the creek and take a second ice water 

 plunge at the ford and start down the canyon for 

 camp. 



Three miles down the gorge we met this same 

 caribou coming up, so we sat down on the rocks to 

 wait for him and he came as close as seventy-five 

 yards, impelled by curiosity. His guard horns were 



