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Sierra Club Bulletin 



thickets of alders or young conifers, treacherous marshy bot- 

 toms, hillside bogs, where floundering animals wallowed help- 

 lessly in the mire, and insecure footing along loose edges of 

 hastily cut hillside trails — all these had to be contended with. 

 Sometimes it was but a blazed way that we followed over rough 

 ground with hardly a sign of clearing underfoot. Sometimes 

 we followed in the beaten track of elk, who apparently strike 

 straight for their goal, regardless of contours. Their ups and 

 downs through the rolling forest gave rapid walkers some- 

 what the sensation of riding the crests of a raging sea. Pas- 

 turage was at times a grave problem. Our pioneer pack ani- 

 mals suffered so much, indeed, both from lack of food and 

 from the terrible trails, that for days we voluntarily burdened 

 ourselves with many pounds of our belongings to relieve them. 

 As travel increases clearings should be made and planted with 

 forage. With improved trails and better feed this route across 

 the Olympic Peninsula would soon become one of the great 

 scenic features of the Northwest. 



After another rainy camp at Promise Creek came a day of 

 many vicissitudes, beginning with five log crossings of the 

 Queniult River, where twice a dismal splash announced the 

 fall of a mountaineer. A pretty incident occurred as we waited 

 upon the bank for a tree to be felled for us. A water ouzel, 

 feeding in the stream, repeatedly flew back and forth within 

 a few feet of us to investigate gay sweaters or bandannas. All 

 through this region both birds and Douglas squirrels were 

 remarkably tame. The squirrels, indeed, showed embarrassing 

 partiality for us as bed-fellows. At noon we reached a side 

 canon about two hundred and fifty feet deep where jutting 

 rock, impossible to dislodge without dynamite, made it nec- 

 essary to unpack the animals and carry the loads across by 

 hand. The women, the cooks, and a group of men detailed for 

 camp making pushed forward, while the majority of the men 

 waited to help with the pack-train. 



Camp was in a lovely spot, a bench above a stream over- 

 arched by two great moss-hung maples (Acer macro phyllum) , 

 and surrounded by fir forests where twilight gathered early. 

 Hours of hungry waiting were rewarded by the arrival of 

 thirty dunnage bags. Commissary was reported at least two 



