-- TO CARIBOO AND BACK }--

But the nights were cold and, as their way led
higher and higher, frosty; though they were
only half way through August.

The heavy, disheartening rains that had
fallen for weeks, were now ended. Gloriously
fine weather set in and the air was bracing and
pure. But the daily march was still strenuous
enough. They had not to force their way
through such dense forest, but instead granite
walls and foaming torrents constantly barred
their way. Back and forth they forded the
waters or bridged them. Even here a few tried
to ride their ponies, but were compelled to give
it up. It was easier to walk and no slower.

They reached the divide, and passed it.
When they found the waters flowing west in-
stead of east another shout went up, like the
one that had greeted the Rocky Mountains, for
another stage of their journey was passed.

But it was now the end of August; and
winter, in the mountains, begins in September.
Any time now the first snow might fall, and
there was felt to be a desperate need of haste.

They were at the head waters of the Fraser
River, though as they saw the stream flowing
due north, instead of west, they could hardly

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