head Creek. We packed our two ponies 
with a good supply of provisions and 
bedding and bade the Rapeljes good 
by. How often, while roaming these 
same trails, I had fancied of having 
my “dream girl” with me, and here at 
last my dreams had come true. We 
were at peace with the world—free to 
go as far as we liked and stop when 
we liked. Truly we were masters of 
all we surveyed. 
After climbing a long hill we came 
on top of the spruce-clad divide be¬ 
tween the Athabasca and Baptiste 
Rivers and from there journeyed an¬ 
other mile on comparatively level land. 
At this stage we came in view of the 
winding Baptiste with its high sand¬ 
stone banks and long meadow-like flats. 
At the old Crossing we made a tem¬ 
porary halt on the south side of the 
river and discussed plans for getting 
across. The wife finally hit on the 
most feasible plan. The larger horse 
was quite capable of carrying her, in 
addition to his pack, for a short dis¬ 
tance, so she crawled on his back and 
rode him across the ford, while the 
other pack pony followed behind. 
Once across she unpacked both horses 
and came back for me. 
The old buildings at the Crossing 
were deserted and rotting with damp¬ 
ness. It seemed hard for me to real¬ 
ize that the good old days were gone 
forever. Old John Anderson had gone 
back to the States and I had never 
heard from him since. My partner of 
the second year, Clifton Knowles, had 
died of the ’Flu while in the service 
at Fort Warden, Washington. And 
Cousin “Cy” had gone back to Mis¬ 
souri, so there was nothing left of the 
old place but memories. 
In an old trapping cabin at the back 
of the swamp I showed the wife a 
piece of gold-bearing quartz which 
Knowles and I had discovered there 
ATHABASCA TROUT!! 
Page 301 
several years previous. The jagged 
stone was exactly where I had last 
seen it, proving that no one had ever 
been there since I had. There was 
always a sort of a mystery about this 
piece of quartz, for in all my wander¬ 
ings throughout that country I have 
never seen anything like it. Fine 
“flour” or “flake” gold I have found 
in numerous places along the Atha¬ 
basca and Baptiste, but the regular 
quartz I have never seen. Perhaps 
some wandering breed picked up that 
piece of stone hundreds of miles away 
and carried it about with him for 
months. For a number of years a 
certain Indian was wont to come into 
Edmonton each fall with a small for¬ 
tune in gold nuggets and whenever 
questioned as to where he got them 
he merely grunted “muskeg.” Now 
there are thousands of sections of 
muskeg or “swamps” in this country, 
so it can readily be seen that the old 
a he-man’s dog 
native’s answer was enigmatic in the 
extreme. Some have advanced the idea 
that he was speaking of the “Muskeg 
River,” a tributary of the Big Smoky, 
but at best it is only a matter of con¬ 
jecture. 
The frost was getting pretty severe 
at nights and we always set up our 
shelter tent and made a good fire in 
front. We lived largely on partridges 
and trout, though many times I could 
have killed a deer or moose. Rabbits 
seemed to be very scarce and I was 
somewhat dubious as to the number of 
furbearers in that part of the country. 
Here and there I saw the sign of brush 
wolves and foxes, but on the whole 
this evidence was far from plentiful. 
Rats were fairly plentiful and we 
killed quite a number with the .22 
Remington. On Marshead Creek the 
beavers were still fairly plentiful. 
We stopped in an old building at 
Mile 70 one night when it was rain- 
A BIG CAT 
ing pitchforks and hammer handles, 
and in order to keep out of the wet 
as much as possible, I built a roaring 
fire right in the middle of the build¬ 
ing and tore a hole in one corner of 
the earthen roof so as to allow the 
smoke to escape. Pretty soon the roof 
got soaked and started to leak, so we 
stretched our canvas shelter tent in¬ 
side and warded off the downpour. It 
rained all night and when morning 
came it made me shiver to think of the 
contrast between our warm nest and 
the outside world. By this time the 
roof was leaking like a sieve and we 
came to the conclusion that it was our 
move next, so we packed up and hit 
for Kimberly Lake, another three miles 
north. We got well soaked on the way, 
but when we did get there we were 
well repaid, for it was nice and dry 
there. We set up the old stove and 
soon had things warm and comfy. 
It is marvelous to see what a change 
a woman can make in these out of the 
way places and it seemed like wher¬ 
ever my wife went with me, things were 
more homelike. Here we were, nearly 
a hundred miles from civilization, in a 
little “ten by twelve” cabin and far 
more content than if we were in a 
marble palace. There is something 
about Nature that sooths the troubled 
spirit and it is hard to find fault with 
the world when in the wilderness. It 
seems that Nature, in her all-wise plan, 
has provided a mate for every living 
creature in her domain, and were we 
not her very own children! There was 
no room for discord in our hearts that 
beat as one and we laughed over our 
“trail troubles” as though they had 
been merely imaginary. 
Time and again my wife was sub¬ 
ject to hardships that would have been 
enough to kill some women, and though 
she was often tired and weary, she 
abounded in good health and spirits 
(Continued on page 339) 
