The cabin was the "Dutchman's," or Meyer's. He came out at 1 a. m. to meet us, at the bark of his big dogs, a good-hearted, weather-seared prospector, fisherman, and trapper of about 40, alone with his huskies. Asked me into his little log hut, prepared a place for my bedding on a frame, burned powder against the mosquitoes, brought out from cool "cellar" a bottle of root beer he brews, and then we went to sleep. But dogs kept waking us and Meyer went out several times to quiet them. Fall asleep at 3.20 and oblivious until near 7. Meyer forces on me six bottles of root beer, I leave him some prescriptions, and taking my bed roll we go down to the boat. My men still sleeping, as I expected. And then slow awakening, breakfast, and late starting. Meyer never saw any Indian bones or stones, but promises cheerfully to watch for them hereafter and to make inquiries. Of course, he also, like so many in these lands, tells of a "prospect" of a gold find, and is quite confident he'll "make good." As usual, also, it is a "lead" that was "lost" and he believes he has found it. And all the time the gold is inside, not outside, of these hunters of the yellow star. Hills on the right again; flat islands, banks, etc., on the left. Meyer's is 18 miles down from Ruby, right bank. About 5 miles farther down on the slopes of the right bank is a pretty little Indian graveyard (pl. 1, _b_), and a little lower down there are three now empty Indian huts. Hills and mountains seen also now beyond the wide flats of the left bank. The hills on right, along which we pass, are more or less forested, but often just bushy and grassy. They rise to about 600 to 700 feet and the slopes are seldom steep. Along their base there are many elevated platforms, low swells, and nooks, that could have served of old--as they serve here and there now--for native habitation, though only few could have accommodated larger villages. Pass an Indian camp--the inevitable staked dogs; a swimming boy--first being seen bathing in the open. Whiskey Creek next. Sixty-two dogs, all along the bank, and each one-half or more in his own cooling hole; holes they dig down to near the frozen ground. A settler, and two Indians--a photograph. No relics or bones now, but will watch; promise also to save some animal skulls, etc. Twelve o'clock. Off again. Day better now, less squally, warm. Hills above and below lower and earthy--loess, at least much of it. The right shore is all along sunnier, higher, more beautiful, and more open to wind (less mosquitoes). These are the reasons, doubtless, why it was of old and is still the favored side for habitations by natives as well as whites.