252 APPOINTED ASSISTANT DIRECTOR 



remained there for the night and, in the morning, retraced our 

 steps to the Little Qualicum River and went to Qualicum by water. 



A few days after, we decided to make a trip to Mt. Mark, the 

 southern end of the Beaufort Range. This mountain rose from 

 Home Lake and there was a good path from Qualicum to the 

 Lake. We crossed the Lake in Tom's canoe and slept at the base 

 of the mountain. During the night, a thunder-storm came up 

 and, when we awoke we were in a thick fog. Tom's son, Jim, had 

 been out hunting and killed a deer and brought it in on his shoul- 

 der and he looked more like a drowned rat than a human being. 

 After breakfast, we decided to climb the mountain under Tom's 

 guidance and climbed during the greater part of the forenoon in 

 a fog so dense that we could only see a short distance. About 

 noon, we reached what we believed to be a summit as, no matter 

 which way we went, we descended. We decided to have lunch on 

 the top and a fire was made which the boys decided to be a real 

 bonfire. I was away gathering plants when I saw the atmosphere 

 get lighter and the fog disappearing. I returned at once to the 

 boys and had them pile on more wood as I was certain our fire 

 was about to disperse the fog, or cloud, which it really did. 

 In a few moments, through openings in the cloud, we could look 

 down and behold, at our feet was Home Lake, three thousand 

 feet below us. Tom was so bewildered that he would not believe 

 his eyes, but Jim pointed out an island in the lake upon which 

 we had found a Loon's nest the day before. Tom exclaimed: 

 "My God, I thought we were miles away from that." He believed 

 that we were going north when in reality we were taking the short- 

 est road to the summit. After making collections in the vicinity, 

 I decided that it was wiser to return than go on and trust our- 

 selves on the mountain summit in another fog. 



Not satisfied with this trip, I now decided to go across to 

 Alberni, as the old trail, starting from Qualicum, and crossing 

 Home Lake, had been made by the Government some years 

 before. I suspected that Tom was the guide for any parties that 

 went across, as he seemed to know all about it and the Alberni 

 Canal, which I wanted to see. The distance across was said to 

 be only twelve miles and, early one morning, we started for Home 



