CHAPTER XLIV 

 THE RIVER 



Now we resumed our daily life of tracking, eating, 

 tracking, camping, tracking, sleeping. The weather 

 had continued fine, with little change ever since we left 

 Resolution, and we were so hardened to the life that 

 it was pleasantly monotonous. 



How different now were my thoughts compared with 

 those of last Spring, as I first looked on this great river. 



When we had embarked on the leaping, boiling, 

 muddy Athabaska, in this frail canoe, it had seemed a 

 foolhardy enterprise. How could such a craft ride 

 such a stream for 2,000 miles? It was like a mouse 

 mounting a monstrous, untamed, plunging and rear- 

 ing horse. Now we set out each morning, familiar 

 with stream and our boat, having no thought of danger, 

 and viewing the water, the same turbid flood, as our 

 servant. Even as a skilful tamer will turn the wildest 

 horse into his willing slave, so have we conquered this 

 river and made it the bearer of our burdens. So I 

 thought and wrote at the time; but the wise tamer is 

 ever alert, never lulled into false security. He knows 

 that a heedless move may turn his steed into a deadly, 

 dangerous monster. We had our lesson to learn. 



That night (October 15) there was a dull yellow 

 sunset. The morning came with a strong north wind 

 and rain that turned to snow, and with it great flocks 



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