As the Bradfords were able to travel more rapidly than Mrs. Shirley and her companions, the two parties separated on the following day. The trail turned to the west, ascending the gradual incline of the Klaheena River valley—a valley similar in character to that of the Chilkat—to a point called Pleasant Camp.

Although the distance from Klukwan to Pleasant Camp was about the same as that from Pyramid Harbor to Klukwan, they were five days in covering it, since for much of the way the snow was soft, and progress correspondingly difficult. There was no more ice to travel upon, and the snow-crust would not bear them during the warmer part of the day. In fact, they could seldom walk upon it at all without their snow-shoes, the use of which the boys learned after a few hours' practice,—not, however, without some of those gymnastic performances predicted by the genial Mr. Kingsley.

They crossed one wide but shallow stream by throwing brush into the water, which raised the sleds enough to keep the loads dry. At another point a considerable[78] delay was caused by a steep hill which the trail mounted at one side of the valley in order to avoid a difficult ford. Uncle Will pointed out a tree at the top of this hill, the bark of which was worn off in a circle a few feet above the ground, remarking that the Mysterious Thirty-six had evidently rigged a block and tackle there, and drawn up their sleds by a long rope. After following a rough, wooded ridge for perhaps a quarter of a mile, the trail led down again to the river flats.

Each day brought them nearer the great range of snowy mountains, at the foot of which lay Pleasant Camp. There they would turn to the right and cross the mountains, which were in British territory, by the Chilkat Pass. The boys thought they had never seen a more beautiful valley than that of the Klaheena. In every direction were glistening peaks, their bases clothed with green spruce forests, which here and there spread out over the levels near the river, where they showed a sprinkling of bare-boughed poplars, willows, and alders.

At one of their camps, where a small stream known as Boulder Creek flowed into the Klaheena from the north, the weather turned suddenly cold, with a bitter wind which the huge camp-fire hardly tempered. It was so cold in the tent that the boys slept in their Mackinaw coats, which usually they removed and rolled up for pillows. Nestling deep down into the blankets, they were warm enough, except when one or the other turned[79] over, disturbing the coverlets, and drawing a blast of cold air over their necks and shoulders. They did not take the precaution to pull their caps over their ears, relying on the protection of the blankets, but unfortunately, while they slept, their heads became entirely uncovered. Both boys found their ears slightly frost-bitten and very painful in the morning.

When they attempted to draw on their shoe-packs, which had been left outside the tent, the leather tops and lacings were frozen so stiffly that it was necessary to thaw them out before a fire. Mr. Bradford's pocket thermometer registered three degrees below zero when they crept out into the crisp morning air and with numb fingers took down the tents and made ready the sleds.

"This is about as chilly as we shall have it," said Uncle Will, as he deftly turned the bacon in the frying-pan; "and it's nothing to what I had on my first trip in. Fifty below is a nice bit colder than three. It's too late in the season for any more of that, and I'm not sorry. We shall be unlucky though, if we don't reach the Alsek River before the ice breaks up, for cross-country travelling in that region is a hard proposition."

"How far away is the Alsek?" asked David.

"About thirty miles on the other side of the Pass."

"And where do you suppose the mysterious gentlemen are now?"

"Oh, they are doubtless working up toward the summit.[80] If they cross first, we can hardly hope to catch them, for I have no doubt the Alsek ice is firm yet, and on that they can move as fast as we can."

"Why is it we haven't overtaken them?" inquired Roly.

"I suspect they don't stop on Sundays as we have."

"Then it's not a fair race," said Roly. "They have an advantage over us."

"Only an apparent one," observed Mr. Bradford. "They are likely to wear themselves out with such unremitting labor. We shall see."

Two days later Pleasant Camp was reached, and the sleds were drawn up from the river flats to the top of a low plateau covered with a fine forest, mostly of spruce. To the west and north rose the massive white summits of the Coast Range, like giants guarding the gateways to the interior.

A small party of Indians who had camped there were about to leave when the Bradfords arrived. Their household goods, consisting of blankets, kettles, pans, dried salmon, and a gun or two, were packed upon sleds, several of which were drawn by small, weak-looking dogs. There was one very old Indian who drew a light load upon a sled, while his wife, who was younger and stronger, bore a considerable burden upon her back. Her face was blackened to protect the skin from the blistering glare of sun and snow. The only other woman in[81] the party carried on her back a baby warmly rolled in a blanket. She wore a sort of hood, a skirt which reached to the knees, and deer-skin leggings and moccasins, and travelled easily over the drifts on light, narrow snow-shoes of native manufacture.

When these Indians had disappeared up the mountain trail, Long Peter, who had cast admiring glances at David's rifle and Roly's shot-gun whenever the boys had removed them from their cases, came forward with a tempting proposal.

"You come with me," said he to the boys. "Plenty porc'pine here. Take guns and snow-shoes. Porc'pine much good."

The boys were on their feet in an instant at the prospect of a porcupine-hunt. At last they were to have an opportunity to test their new weapons. But first they must obtain permission to go.

"Aren't you too tired?" asked Mr. Bradford, when they bore down upon that gentleman.

"Oh, no!" shouted both together.

"Well then, you may go; but I think I'll go with you. I've no doubt you've listened very carefully to all my instructions, but you'll be pretty sure to be absent-minded in the excitement of the hunt. Do you remember the first rule, David?"

"Yes," said David. "Never point a gun, loaded or unloaded, at yourself or any one else."

[82]

"Correct," said Mr. Bradford. "What was the second rule, Roly?"

"Never leave a loaded gun where it can fall down, or be thrown down, or disturbed in any way."

"Right again. It was a violation of that rule which caused Lucky............