1 68 The National Geographic Magazine 



petual snow. The Indians in choosing 

 a trail had most skillfully availed them- 

 selves of every little patch of soil and 

 vegetation in a bare slope of limestone. 

 On the upper parts, however, even 

 these disappeared, and the trail was 

 lined with sharp stones. A great deal 

 of work had been done by throwing 

 down the larger stones and paving a 

 way with the smaller ones. 



I approached the crest of the ridge at 

 8,140 feet with not a little excitement 

 and interest. A short space of level 

 ground makes the top of the pass, and 

 then bends over into a valley of great 

 depth. A large extent of new country 

 was seen toward the east and south, 

 with a green valley below and several 

 ranges of mountains, all, however, of 

 less height than those on either side of 

 the pass, which were imposing precipices 

 three or four thousand feet above the 

 valley. How the Indians first got their 

 horses over this place surpasses compre- 

 hension. Part of the trail was covered 

 by snow even at this late date, and the 

 slope was so steep that the stones were 

 ready to slide. If a horse ever lost his 

 balance here, it would be all over with 

 him. After taking photographs, I made 

 a difficult scramble to a spur half a mile 

 distant to get a better view. Here I 

 .erected a cairn and took angles of all the 

 prominent points. This otherwise bar- 

 ren peak was covered by forget-me-nots 

 growing in the cracks of blue limestone, 

 their stems short and stunted by cold. 

 The beautiful clusters of bright flowers 

 covered every slope and enlivened the 

 bare rocks. 



That night we had an excellent dinner, 

 • consisting, among other good things, of 

 a grouse stew, the results of Tom's 

 good hunting. Around the camp-fire 

 we discussed the developments of the 

 (.day, cheered by hotscotch, and now 



felt certain that the newly found valley 

 would lead us into some tributary of 

 the Elk River. 



The next day, August 12, was warm 

 and fair, with high fleecy clouds. The 

 ascent and crossing of the pass by our 

 fourteen horses was one of the most pic- 

 turesque and interesting sights imagi- 

 nable. The intelligent animals hardly 

 knew what to make of the tremendous 

 climb, and the sharp rocks cut their feet 

 badly. We rolled down tons of stones, 

 and repaired the trail as well as possible 

 ahead of them. Both Bryant and I 

 were busy also in getting snap shots of 

 our pack-train from every point of view. 

 A short rest and a precautionary tight- 

 ening of cinches took place on the sum- 

 mit. Then ensued a still more difficult 

 descent of 2,000 feet into the new val- 

 ley. When we looked at the precipitous 

 and snowbound pass from below, it 

 seemed impossible that four-footed ani- 

 mals could traverse such a place. Nev- 

 ertheless, thanks to the extraordinary 

 care and skill of our packers, not one 

 of the entire outfit of pack animals had 

 a sore or chafed spot on his back, though 

 most of them had been carrying from 

 150 to 200 pounds, jumping logs, and 

 scrambling over steep passes every day 

 for the past two weeks. The weather 

 was very warm, and our tired animals 

 had to fight swarms of bulldog flies and 

 mosquitoes which appeared in this val- 

 ley. The last two valleys had been 

 almost free of them. Our men built 

 smudges, around which the horses stood 

 till late in the day, when a hard rain 

 cooled the air, drove away the flies, and 

 allowed our animals to feed in a meadow 

 not far distant. Bryant walked about 

 five miles down the valle3' in the after- 

 noon to explore the trail, and said much 

 less rain had fallen there 'than at our 

 camp. 



{To be concluded in the June number') 



