106 Sir ALEXANDER MACKENZIE

swamps, and climbed over high passes. Its
windings made its length more than three
hundred miles. Guides were essential, and
their fickle friend from the Fraser River soon
would go no further. Fortunately now the
natives were numerous and not unfriendly,
and, except for one short gap, they were able
to secure temporary guides from each party
of Indians to lead them to the next band. The
section of Mackenzie’s journal in which he
describes the fourteen days of this overland
march, toilsome as it was, is the most vivid
and interesting part of the book. The mode
of travel, the natives, the scenery, all were
new to him, and he was certain that every
step was taking him nearer to the attainment
of his supreme desire.

Before leaving their canoe they had to
conceal everything which they could not carry
with them. They made two secret caches of
their most valuable supplies—gunpowder,
pemmican, corn, and wild rice—and put the
rest in a strong log enclosure; the canoe they
placed on a stage, well shielded from the sun.
They were heavily laden: each of the voya-