We camped not far from the ruined fort, and next night drew near our destination. It was full time. The ice was rapidly going, and already in places dark, treacherous holes showed grimly through to the rushing water beneath.
The dogs were all lame, and Cerf-vola had to be regularly put in boots previous to starting. Still, lame or sound, he always travelled just the same. When his feet were very sore, he would look around now and again for assistance; but if none was forthcoming he bent himself resolutely to the task, and with down-bent head toiled at his collar. Others might tire, others might give out, but he might truly say,—
“Dogs may come, and dogs may go,
But I go on for ever,
Ever, ever, I go on for ever.”
Before daybreak on the 8th we stopped for the usual cup of tea and bite of pemmican. The night was dark and overcast. Beside us a huge pile of driftwood lay heaped above the ice. We fired it in many places before starting, and then set out for our last dog-march. The flames rose high through the dry timber, and a long line of light glowed and quivered upon the ice. We were soon far away from it. Day broke; a thick rain began to fall; dogs and men sunk deep in the slushy snow. “Go on, good old Cerf-vola! A little more, and your weary journey will be over; a little more, and the last mile of this 1400 will have been run; a little more, and the collar will be taken from your worn shoulders for the last long time!”
At the bend of the Peace River, where a lofty ridge runs out from the southern side, and the hills along the northern shore rise to nearly 1000 feet above the water, stands the little fort of St. John. It is a remote spot, in a land which is itself remote. From out the plain to the west, forty or fifty miles away, great snowy peaks rise up against the sky. To the north and south and east all is endless wilderness—wilderness of pine and prairie, of lake and stream—of all the vast inanity of that moaning waste which sleeps between the Bay of Hudson and the Rocky Mountains.
So far have we journeyed through that land; here we shall rest awhile. The time of winter travel has drawn to its close; the ice-road has done its work; the dogs may lie down and rest; for those great snowy peaks are the Rocky Mountains.