The track, leaving the valley of the Athabasca at this point, turned towards the north-west, and entered a narrow rocky ravine, the valley of the river Myette. The stream was not more than thirty yards in width, but deep and rapid, and its bed beset with great rocks and boulders. The path was obstructed by large stones and fallen timber, lying so thickly that our two men were kept hard at work all the afternoon, and the horses progressed only by a succession of jumps. We made but a short distance with great labour, and camped for the night on the banks of the stream. For the whole of the next morning the road presented the same difficulties, and our advance was as slow as on the preceding day. At mid-day we reached the place where we were to cross the river, and pulled up to make a raft. After crossing by this means, we toiled on through a ravine so narrow, and where the mountains came down so close to the water’s edge, that, in order to pass them, we were compelled to traverse the stream no less than six times more before evening. In each of these cases we crossed on horseback, the river now being a succession of rapids, not more than four or five feet deep. These passages of the river were difficult, and many of them dangerous, for the water was very high, and the current extremely powerful. At the last fording-place, the waters rushed down a swift descent in a foaming cataract, raging and boiling so fiercely round great rocks which studded the channel, that we hesitated before we ventured to urge our horses forward. But the Iroquois led the way, and crossed safely, although his horse staggered about and hardly held his own. We then drove the pack-horses before us, and plunged in. The water streamed over our horses’ shoulders, as they struggled against the current, and slipped amongst the smooth boulders, tumbling about and regaining their footing in the most wonderful manner. Mr. O’B. was compelled to mount his steed again for this occasion, and, judging from the despairing expression of his countenance, he did so with little hope of reaching the other side in safety. He was exhorted carefully to follow the line taken by the guide, and Milton and the woman rode on either side of him. Clutching the mane with both hands, he did not attempt to guide his horse, but employed all his powers in sticking to the saddle, and exhorting his companions, “Steady, my lord, please, or I shall be swept off. Do speak to Mrs. Assiniboine, my lord; she’s leading us to destruction; what a reckless woman! ‘_varium et mutabile semper femina!_’ Mrs. Assiniboine!--_Mrs. Assiniboine!_ oh, dear! oh, dear! what an awful journey! I’m going! I’m going! Narrow escape that, my lord! very narrow escape, indeed, Doctor. We can’t expect to be so lucky every time, you know.” And the moment he gained the shore, he scrambled off and left his horse to its own devices.