Extensive fires had swept over this portion of country years before, and great trees lay fallen across the path, tangled and interlaced on every side. We had great difficulty in driving the horses along, for they continually forked out of the track, to escape the barriers across it, and hid themselves in the thick wood. We met with many severe falls, in jumping our horses over the fallen trees, which were often so close together that there was barely standing room between for the horse, from which to take a second spring over the succeeding trunk. We camped that night on the banks of a small stream, a source of the Myette, which our Iroquois told us was named Pipestone River. The place was very pretty, a tiny plain, covered with flowers, and surrounded by the Rocky Mountains in all their grandeur. The path proved easier the next day, the 9th of July, the fifth day after leaving Jasper House, and in the course of our morning’s journey we were surprised by coming upon a stream flowing to the westward. We had unconsciously passed the height of land and gained the watershed of the Pacific. The ascent had been so gradual and imperceptible, that, until we had the evidence of the water-flow, we had no suspicion that we were even near the dividing ridge. The next afternoon found us encamped at Buffalo-dung Lake, which the Iroquois assured us was well stocked with trout; and several Shushwap slants of bark, and frames for drying fish, bore out his assertion. The lake consists of two portions, connected by a short, narrow channel. The mountains appeared to rise immediately out of the water on the further or southern shore of the lake, whilst close behind us on the northern side, commenced verdant and swelling hills, the bases of loftier heights, which rose up further back in many a naked, ragged rock or ice-crowned peak. Two of these on opposite sides of the lake were particularly fine, one to the north-west, the other to the south-west; and the Iroquois assured us that they should be known from that time forth as “Le Montagne de Milord” and “Montagne de Docteur.” We, however, took the liberty of naming them Mount Fitzwilliam and Mount Bingley. The lake was drained by a small stream issuing from the western extremity, and ultimately falling into the Fraser.