When we proceeded to search for the trail, we discovered, to our dismay, that we were upon a small island, instead of the west bank of the river, as we supposed. The north-west branch entered the main river by two mouths, and we were upon the spit of land between the fork of these channels. There were numerous traces of the emigrants’ visit, but what line they had taken we could not make out, although we searched diligently till night came on. Next morning The Assiniboine was up betimes, and crossing the west channel by a natural bridge, formed by the accumulation of driftwood against a sand-bar, soon discovered the trail leading up the north-west branch in the direction of Cariboo. He followed this for about a mile, when it came suddenly to an end. The ravine was narrow, the sides steep and heavily timbered, and lofty, limestone mountains loomed up ahead.

The emigrants had evidently found the work of cutting a road to Cariboo so arduous that they had abandoned the task, and turned their faces southward to seek Kamloops; and agreeably to this surmise The Assiniboine discovered another trail leading down the river in that direction. The time had now come when we must make our final decision whether to try and reach Cariboo or follow the trail towards Kamloops.

We held a council, and after much discussion at last agreed that it would be impossible, with our weakened forces, worn-out horses, short supplies, and little axe, to cut our way through the almost impenetrable country to the west. It was with a feeling of bitter disappointment that we gave up our cherished idea of finding a road direct to the gold-fields, but the attempt would have been madness, and we very sulkily commenced transferring the packs to the mainland on the west. The driftwood bridge saved us from the labour of making another raft, but carrying the baggage on our backs proved no light work. The footing on the trunks, piled together so irregularly, was slippery and uncertain, and the flood poured fiercely through the weir, making our heads giddy with the rush of waters and their deafening roar. When we had crossed this, which was at least forty yards in width, we were obliged to scramble with our loads as we could up a perpendicular hill-side, through piles of fallen timber, in order to reach the track. Mr. O’B. stole across quietly, without troubling himself with even his own baggage, and then sat down and took out his Paley—his pipe, alas! was useless now—declaring he was sorry he had omitted to bring his property, but that he would not cross such a dangerous place again for the world: his head would not stand it. He was afraid he should become giddy and fall over, and therefore begged that we would let him rest in peace. We left him there, ourselves re-crossing for other loads; but as we returned with them we were astonished to meet Mr. O’B. scrambling over the logs with the most astounding agility. The Assiniboine having discovered him sitting idle, advanced towards him with so menacing an air that he fled across the bridge with great celerity, and took his share of work without complaint. Mr. O’B. firmly believed that The Assiniboine intended to murder him on the first convenient opportunity, and viewed any offensive demonstration on his part with unqualified terror. When we had taken the baggage across, we proceeded to drive the horses into the stream below the dam. They swam to a shallow in the middle, and there remained. The day was exceedingly sultry, and they enjoyed the coolness of the water, and the comparative freedom from gad-flies and mosquitoes. For above an hour they refused to move, in spite of all we could do. We shied showers of sticks and stones at them, shouted and stormed at Bucephalus, the “Grand Rouge,” the “Petit Rouge”—then tried the “Gris,” the “Sauvage,” the “Petit Noir;”—all were of one mind. They had found a cool and pleasant place, where were neither packs nor hurtful rocks and trees. Blows they were tolerably safe from, and angry words they regarded not. At last the boy, by some well-directed missiles from the driftwood bridge, rendered the place too hot for them, and they abandoned the position, swimming across as we desired.

[(Larger)]

THE TRAIL AT AN END.

(See [page 281].)

The rest of the day was fruitful in difficulties and mishaps. The trail had been made by the Canadians when the river was low, and was now frequently lost in deep water. At these points we were obliged to cut a new line for ourselves, along steep, timber-strewn hill-sides. The forest was as dense as ever, and the trees of the largest. “Muskegs” occupied the hollows between the pine-clad hills, which ran up at short intervals with steep front towards the river. The horses mired and were dragged out—walked into the river, and were hauled back—entangled themselves in fallen timber, and were chopped out—or hid themselves in the thick wood, and had to be sought. At night The Assiniboine was fairly done, and all of us thoroughly tired out.

We met with similar country and the same difficulties until the afternoon of the second day after leaving the island, when we came upon two camps, where were strewn pack-saddles and harness, and great cedars cut down on every side, with heaps of chips and splinters, showing that they had been used to make rafts and canoes. An inscription in pencil on a tree told us this was the emigrants’ “Slaughter Camp.” We searched in every direction, but no trail forward could be discovered.

The truth, serious enough, now plainly forced itself upon our minds, that the whole band of emigrants had given up in despair the idea of cutting their way through forests so dense and encumbered, abandoned their horses, killed their oxen for provisions, and made large rafts in order to drop down the river to Kamloops.