So saying, setting spurs to his saddle-pony and pulling on the lariat
of old Betsy, Uncle Dick disappeared over the edge of the steep bank.
His hardy little animal clapped its feet close together and almost
slid down the long muddy incline. Old Betsy calmly followed, and by
the time the first horse was at the bottom of the deep and narrow
valley the boys with much shouting and urging had started others of
the band down the incline also. Uncle Dick boldly plunged into the
stream, which was not very wide or very deep at that time. By the time
he was struggling up the opposite bank the last of the train, followed
by the young trailers, was making its way down the first slope. One by
one, the horses splashed methodically across the little stream and
began the long and slow ascent up the farther side, a climb of more
than a hundred and fifty feet, which Uncle Dick made easier by two or
three zigzags, turning at points where little trees made it possible.
So at last they all found themselves on the farther side of the steep
Wolf Creek valley.

"Hurrah!" said John, pulling off his cap and waving it about his head
as he rode up. "That was fine, wasn't it? I was a good deal scared
about it, but we got through all right."

"And I call it mighty well done for you young men," said Uncle Dick,
approvingly. "We've got every pack with us, and now we'll see if any
of them need tightening up. We'll not have many crossings worse than
this, I'm thinking. For two or three days we'll be among these steep
valleys, where the rivers have cut regular troughs, mostly north and
south. But I don't think there will be any worse muskeg than we've had
already."

"Well," said Rob, "this wasn't nearly as bad as the Pembina crossing
back yonder."

"No, that was three hundred feet down and a hundred yards of water.
Lucky the water was low, or we'd be there yet. And, you may believe
me, the engineers will have a considerable bridge to build before they
get over that river and a lot of these others. If we were two months
later we'd have to swim a lot of these streams, and that's something I
don't want with a pack-train."

"Well," said John, "when are we going to eat lunch?"

They all laughed at John, who was always anxious about times and
places for eating.

"We don't eat lunch, young man, until we get our breakfast settled,
anyhow," said Uncle Dick.

"And where is the next bad crossing?" inquired Jesse.

"Ten or twelve miles ahead, I suppose,