Thoroughly alarmed by their rashness and folly, Thompson prepared to fly for his life, for he knew that the Piegans would be on them in the morning. At dawn of day, they took horse and made their way east by a wide detour through the forest. Fallen trees and undergrowth interrupted their progress, and their horses' hoofs made their track easy to follow. Fortunately the afternoon brought with it a light fall of snow, giving them some hope of shaking off their pursuers, and late in the evening they ventured to halt and kindle a small fire. Racked with fear for his own safety and anxiety for the fate of his men, Thompson passed a sleepless night. His first care was to find the brigade. Avoiding Rocky Mountain House, he continued east for sixty miles along the river, and there, on the second afternoon, he came upon his men, safe and sound, encamped in an abandoned trading-post known as Boggy Hall. All hope was now abandoned of passing in safety by the defiles of the Saskatchewan, and Thompson determined to blaze a new trail across the Rockies by way of the Athabaska river. The route projected lay over an old path of the Assiniboine Indians to a point on the Athabaska not far from the present line of the Canadian National Railways; and from thence along the valley of the river past the mouth of Yellowhead Pass to its headwaters some miles further south. From this point a pass led across the height of land to the Wood river, a small tributary of the Columbia. In later years this pass (known as the Athabaska Pass) was the regular route for traders of the Hudson's Bay Company on their journeys to British Columbia. Horses and dogs were rapidly collected for the trip over land. The men were detailed to their several duties, four to hunt, two to clear a path through the woods, and the remainder to look after the animals and perform the labour of the camp. By the 28th of October all was in readiness; and the little party set off with Thomas, an Iroquois Indian, to act as guide. It was a full month before they had crossed the belt that lay between them and the Athabaska. The road ran through a wretched country, over mountains and across muskegs. Here and there the fires of the forest had cut wide swathes through the woods, leaving in their wake a tangled mass of fallen timber, through which they had to hack their way. In the bogs the horses lost their footing, shifting their packs and bruising their knees, until in a short while they were almost useless. To complete the misery of the travellers, there was the difficulty of securing food. Their dried provisions were soon exhausted. Game was scarce; and the hunters often returned empty-handed after a long day's chase.