ld see the snow banners, all pointing
one way, all waving, all luminous and shimmering in the sun-rays. It was
a very noble sight, and I gazed a long while entranced, not knowing how
ominous it was. When we reached the valley and left the shelter of the
gulch we struck the full force of that fearful gale, and for two days
and nights of incessant blizzard we lay in a hole dug out of a sand-bank
(for we had no tent that year), the trail lost, the grub box nearly
empty, and no fire possible to cook anything with had the grub box been
full.

The valley before us--to resume the narrative--is a high, wind-swept
region of niggerhead and swamp, the catch-basin of the South Fork of the
Koyukuk River. The trail descends one of its southern draws, follows up
the main valley awhile, crosses it, and leaves by one of its northern
draws to pass over the mountains that separate its drainage from the
main fork of the Koyukuk. The cold had given place to wind, and though
the gale did not approach the fierceness of last year's storm, it gave
great trouble in following the track. These high headwater basins are
always windy; the timber is scrubby spruce with many open places, and in
such open places the trail is soon obliterated altogether.

When the light fails this casting about for blazes whenever a clump of
spruce is reached becomes increasingly slow and difficult and at last
becomes hopeless. The general direction determined, it might be thought
that the traveller could ignore the tracks of previous passage and
strike out for himself, but he knows that the trail, however rough, is
at least practicable, whereas an independent course may soon lead to
steep gullies or cut banks, or may entangle him in some thicket that he
must resort to the axe to pass through. Moreover, even two or three
passages through the snow in the winter will give some bottom to a
trail; a bottom that, when the wind-swept areas are passed and the
snow-shoes are resumed, both he and his dogs will be thankful for.

[Sidenote: CAMP MAKING]

So we made a camp as it darkened to night, not far from the spot where I
had "siwashed" with an Indian companion the previous winter, the wind
blowing half a gale at 20 deg. below zero.

Making camp under such circumstances is always a very disagreeable
proceeding. It takes time and care to make a comfortable camp, and time
and care in the wind and the cold involve suffering. Two suitable trees
must be selected between which