With a view of economising our provisions and making more rapid progress, we reduced our meals to breakfast and supper, resting only a short time at mid-day to allow the horses to feed, but not unpacking them. Our fare was what the half-breeds call “rubaboo,” which we made by boiling a piece of pemmican the size of one’s fist in a large quantity of water thickened with a single handful of flour. The latter commodity had now become very valuable, and was used in this way only, three or four pounds being all we had left. Occasionally we were lucky enough to kill a partridge or skunk, and this formed a welcome addition to the “rubaboo.” The mess was equally divided, and two ordinary platesful formed the portion of each individual. Under these trying circumstances we had the advantage of Mr. O’B.’s advice, which he did not fail to offer at every opportunity. When we stopped for the night, and the work of unloading the horses and preparing camp was over, he would emerge from some quiet retreat, fresh from the solace of Paley, and deliver his opinions on the prospects of the journey and his views on the course to be pursued. “Now, my lord; now, Doctor,” he would say, “I don’t think that we have gone on nearly so well to-day as we might have done. I don’t think our route was well chosen. We may have done fifteen or twenty miles (we had probably accomplished three or four), but that’s not at all satisfactory. ‘_Festina lente_’ was wisely said by the great lyric; but he was never lost in a forest, you see. Now, what I think ought to be done is this: the Doctor and The Assiniboine are strong vigorous fellows; let them go five or six miles ahead and investigate the country, and then we shall travel much more easily to-morrow.” The two “vigorous fellows” were, however, generally too much jaded by hard work during the day to adopt his advice, and declined the proposal. The valley continued to run nearly due south, and ranges of mountains separated only by the narrowest ravines came down from the N.E. and N.W. up to it on each side at an angle of 45°. These proved serious obstacles to our progress, rising almost perpendicularly from the water’s edge. On the 1st of August we came in sight of a fine snowy mountain which appeared to block up the valley ahead, and we hoped this might be the second of two described to us as landmarks by the old woman at The Cache, which she stated was not far from Fort Kamloops. To this Milton gave the name of Mount Cheadle, in return for the compliment previously paid him by his companion. The river also became wider and less rapid, and at one point divided into several channels, flowing round low wooded islands. Only one snowy mountain could be seen to the right, to which we gave the name of Mount St. Anne; but the road was as encumbered as ever.