It was a stiff climb which confronted them now, on the eastern slope of the big Athabasca divide; but as they rose the terrors of the trail were in some part compensated by the splendid views of the country which now were disclosed as they passed into this or that opening along the jack-pine ridge. A wide panorama lay off to the east, the country from which they had come; and at last, when finally they had arrived at the top of the divide, they could see the barren slopes of the Rockies, now apparently so close as to be within a half-day’s travel. It was a savage and desolate scene which lay about them, the more gloomy because of the wide areas of dead and half-burned timber which stretched for miles beyond. Weary and travel-stained as the young travelers were, a feeling of depression came upon them, seeing which Uncle Dick did his best to cheer them up.
“Never mind,” said he; “that much is behind us at least. We’re nearly a thousand feet above the McLeod River here, and it’s over thirteen hundred feet down to the Athabasca yonder. There’s bad going between here and there, although the valley itself isn’t so bad. So I tell you what I think we’ll do—we’ll make an early camp, and Moise and I will go off to the south of the main trail and see if we can’t work over the heads of some of the creeks. It may be rougher country, but it ought not to be quite so soft.”
They were glad enough to follow this counsel, and when at last they came to a little open glade with running water they pulled up and began the unpleasant work of removing the muddy packs.
“I’ve got mud in my hair and my eyes and my mouth yet,” said Rob, laughing.
“And my stirrups are full, and my rifle scabbard and everything else,” added Jesse.
“Well, I don’t call this any fun,” said John; “I don’t like to be dirty.”
“Nonsense!” said Rob. “It’ll all wash off. And once we are clean and have a cup of tea, we’ll be just as good as new.”