CAMP FIRES IN THE YUKON 189 



chickens, and at dark with the snow falling heavily 

 on the valley we came to a wayside cabin belonging 

 to Chambers, where we cooked supper and spent 

 the night. 



September 25. The weather cleared, but the 

 wind blew cold as we circled about the hills along 

 the Dawson stage trail, steadily putting mile after 

 mile behind us until at nightfall we reached the 

 automatic, current-driven ferry at the Tahkini 

 River, where we decided to remain for the night as 

 one of the horses had gone lame and we wished not 

 to drive him farther without a rest. 



September 26. Five o'clock found us rolling 

 along on the last stage of our journey and the morn- 

 ing broke into joyous radiance as the sun came over 

 the snow crests of the mountains along the Yukon 

 River, twenty-two miles away; yet there was nothing 

 of cheerfulness as we drove ahead along the sunlit 

 wagon road with the oppressive realization that be- 

 hind us lay the God-given mighty wilderness of maj- 

 esty, freedom and peace, while each succeeding mile 

 brought us nearer to the man-made, rattle, constric- 

 tions, and pettiness of a complex civilization. In 

 sullen silence we topped the last pine-clad hill and 

 rolled down the slope to the affronting railway and 

 telegraph station; our long trail in the Yukon had 

 come to an end. 



