ve any mishap, Tim," said Frank, "you must remember to
hold fast to a piece of wood to help you float--a small bit is enough."

"I have a bitter plan than that."

"What is it?"

"Niver have anything to do wid the water."

"That would be certain safety if you could carry it out; but you can't
help it all times--such, for instance, as the present."

"And I'm thinking we shall have plinty of the same before we raich
Dawson."

"After we get to the foot of this lake, what comes next, Tim?"

"Caribou Crossing, which we pass through to Lake Tagish, which isn't
quite as big as is this one. I'm thinking," he added thoughtfully,
watching the rising anger of the waves, "that bime-by, whin we come
near land, we'll be going that fast that we'll skim over the snow like
a sled to the nixt lake."

Roswell pointed to the shore on their right, indicating a stake which
rose upright from the ground and stood close to the water.

"What is the meaning of that?" he asked.

"That," replied Tim, "marks the grave of some poor chap that died on
his way to the Klondike. Do ye obsarve that cairn of stones a bit
beyont?"

Each saw it.

"That marks anither grave; and ye may call to mind that we obsarved
more of the same along Lake Lindeman."

Such was the fact, though this was the first reference to them.

"And we shall hardly be out of sight of some of the same all the way to
the Klondike; and I'm thinking," was his truthful remark, "that
hundreds more will lay their bones down in these parts and niver see
their loved ones again."

It was a sad thought. In a few years improved routes, railway-tracks,
and houses for food and lodging will rob the Klondike region of its
terrors, but until then death must exact a heavy toll from the
gold-seekers crowding northward, without regard to season or the
simplest laws of prudence.

Roswell was standing on the upper deck, near a corner, when he
exclaimed excitedly:

"Oh, look there! Isn't it dreadful?"

[Illustration: "OH, LOOK THERE! ISN'T IT DREADFUL?"]

He was pointing out on the lake, and, following the direction of his
hand, all saw the answer to his question.

CHAPTER IX.

INTO BRITISH TERRITORY.

All hurried to the side of Roswell, who was pointing to a place a short
distance from the raft.

It was the body of a man that they saw, floating face upward. His
clothing was good, and the white features, partly hidden by a black
beard, must have been pleasing in life. The