rest I long for the rose of the plain,
In the dark of the firs I die.

IN THE GRASS

O to lie in long grasses!
O to dream of the plain!
Where the west wind sings as it passes
A weird and unceasing refrain;
Where the rank grass wallows and tosses,
And the plains' ring dazzles the eye;
Where hardly a silver cloud bosses
The flashing steel arch of the sky.

To watch the gay gulls as they flutter
Like snowflakes and fall down the sky,
To swoop in the deeps of the hollows,
Where the crow's-foot tosses awry;
And gnats in the lee of the thickets
Are swirling like waltzers in glee
To the harsh, shrill creak of the crickets
And the song of the lark and the bee.

O far-off plains of my west land!
O lands of winds and the free,
Swift deer--my mist-clad plain!
From my bed in the heart of the forest,
From the clasp and the girdle of pain
Your light through my darkness passes;
To your meadows in dreaming I fly
To plunge in the deeps of your grasses,
To bask in the light of your sky!

CHAPTER XIII

THE SILENT FORESTS OF THE DREAD SKEENA

We were awake early and our first thought was of our horses. They
were quite safe and cropping away on the dry stalks with patient
diligence. We saddled up and pushed on, for food was to be had only
in the valley, whose blue and white walls we could see far ahead of
us. After nearly six hours' travel we came out of the forest, out
into the valley of the middle fork of the Skeena, into sunlight and
grass in abundance, where we camped till the following morning,
giving the horses time to recuperate.

We were done with smiling valleys--that I now perceived. We were
coming nearer to the sub-arctic country, grim and desolate. The view
was magnificent, but the land seemed empty and silent except of
mosquitoes, of which there were uncounted millions. On our right just
across the river rose the white peaks of the Kisgagash Mountains.
Snow was still lying in the gullies only a few rods above us.

The horses fed right royally and soon forgot the dearth of the big
divide. As we were saddling up to move the following morning, several
outfits came trailing down into the valley, glad as we had been of
the splendid field of grass. They were led by a grizzled old
American, who cursed the country with fine fervor.

"I can stand any kind of a country," said he, "except one where