then came on a park surrounded by barren contorted hills, overtopped by
snow mountains. There, in some brushwood, we crossed a deepish stream
on the ice, which gave way, and the fearful cold of the water stiffened
my limbs for the rest of the ride. All these streams become bigger as
you draw nearer to their source, and shortly the trail disappeared in a
broad rapid river, which we forded twice. The trail was very difficult
to recover. It ascended ever in frost and snow, amidst scanty timber
dwarfed by cold and twisted by storms, amidst solitudes such as one
reads of in the High Alps; there were no sounds to be heard but the
crackle of ice and snow, the pitiful howling of wolves, and the hoot of
owls. The sun to me had long set; the peaks which had blushed were
pale and sad; the twilight deepened into green; but still "Excelsior!"
There were no happy homes with light of household fires; above, the
spectral mountains lifted their cold summits. As darkness came on I
began to fear that I had confused the cabin to which I had been
directed with the rocks. To confess the truth, I was cold, for my
boots and stockings had frozen on my feet, and I was hungry too, having
eaten nothing but raisins for fourteen hours. After riding thirty
miles I saw a light a little way from the track, and found it to be the
cabin of the daughter of the pleasant people with whom I had spent the
previous night. Her husband had gone to the Plains, yet she, with two
infant children, was living there in perfect security. Two pedlars,
who were peddling their way down from the mines, came in for a night's
shelter soon after I arrived--ill-looking fellows enough. They admired
Birdie in a suspicious fashion, and offered to "swop" their pack horse
for her. I went out the last thing at night and the first thing in the
morning to see that "the powny" was safe, for they were very
importunate on the subject of the "swop." I had before been offered
150 dollars for her. I was obliged to sleep with the mother and
children, and the pedlars occupied a room within ours. It was hot and
airless. The cabin was papered with the Phrenological Journal, and in
the morning I opened my eyes on the very best portrait of Dr. Candlish
I ever saw, and grieved truly that I should never see that massive brow
and fantastic face again.

Mrs. Link was an educated and very intelligent young woman. The
pedlars were Irish Yankees, and the way in which they "traded" was as