We held a council, and after much discussion at last agreed that it would be impossible, with our weakened forces, worn-out horses, short supplies, and little axe, to cut our way through the almost impenetrable country to the west. It was with a feeling of bitter disappointment that we gave up our cherished idea of finding a road direct to the gold-fields, but the attempt would have been madness, and we very sulkily commenced transferring the packs to the mainland on the west. The driftwood bridge saved us from the labour of making another raft, but carrying the baggage on our backs proved no light work. The footing on the trunks, piled together so irregularly, was slippery and uncertain, and the flood poured fiercely through the weir, making our heads giddy with the rush of waters and their deafening roar. When we had crossed this, which was at least forty yards in width, we were obliged to scramble with our loads as we could up a perpendicular hill-side, through piles of fallen timber, in order to reach the track. Mr. O’B. stole across quietly, without troubling himself with even his own baggage, and then sat down and took out his Paley--his pipe, alas! was useless now--declaring he was sorry he had omitted to bring his property, but that he would not cross such a dangerous place again for the world: his head would not stand it. He was afraid he should become giddy and fall over, and therefore begged that we would let him rest in peace. We left him there, ourselves re-crossing for other loads; but as we returned with them we were astonished to meet Mr. O’B. scrambling over the logs with the most astounding agility. The Assiniboine having discovered him sitting idle, advanced towards him with so menacing an air that he fled across the bridge with great celerity, and took his share of work without complaint. Mr. O’B. firmly believed that The Assiniboine intended to murder him on the first convenient opportunity, and viewed any offensive demonstration on his part with unqualified terror. When we had taken the baggage across, we proceeded to drive the horses into the stream below the dam. They swam to a shallow in the middle, and there remained. The day was exceedingly sultry, and they enjoyed the coolness of the water, and the comparative freedom from gad-flies and mosquitoes. For above an hour they refused to move, in spite of all we could do. We shied showers of sticks and stones at them, shouted and stormed at Bucephalus, the “Grand Rouge,” the “Petit Rouge”--then tried the “Gris,” the “Sauvage,” the “Petit Noir;”--all were of one mind. They had found a cool and pleasant place, where were neither packs nor hurtful rocks and trees. Blows they were tolerably safe from, and angry words they regarded not. At last the boy, by some well-directed missiles from the driftwood bridge, rendered the place too hot for them, and they abandoned the position, swimming across as we desired. [Illustration: THE TRAIL AT AN END.