Fort Pitt in the following year, with a goodly string of horses. In the shallows of the Harrison River we saw many thousands of spent salmon wriggling and flopping about, half-stranded, and pursued by a number of Indians, who were engaged in spearing them. Passing through Douglas and Pemberton by the lakes and portages between them, we struck the Fraser again at Lilloet, about 265 miles from New Westminster, and 300 from Victoria. The scenery on this route, especially on Lakes Anderson and Seton, is exceedingly wild and grand. Mountains rise abruptly from the shores of the lakes on each side, steep, rugged, and barren; and when we saw them their beauty was increased by the brilliant tints of the American autumn. At various places on our way to Lilloet we heard of our friend Mr. O’B., who had followed this route on his journey down from Kamloops, instead of the one by Yale. He had found favour with every one, for he knew the history family, friends, property, and expectations of each, and the latest news of the neighbourhood from which they came. At a certain town on the road, a number of new-found friends and admirers, with whom he was spending a social evening, observing the astonishing facility with which he imbibed his native whisky, determined to see him under the table, and plied him vigorously. But if their heads were hard, Mr. O’B.’s was harder, and although he had not tasted any intoxicating liquor for two years, and drank glass for glass with his entertainers without shirking, he proved invincible. One after another the conspirators subsided helpless on the floor, while Mr. O’B. remained sitting, smiling and triumphant, and calmly continued to smoke his pipe, superior and alone! The town of Lilloet is situated on a grand plateau, one of the terraces of the Fraser, which are here more than ordinarily extensive and well-marked. The place was full of miners, on their way down to Victoria for the winter. Drinking and card-playing went on until long after midnight, amid a constant string of oaths and miners’ slang. Our ears became familiarised with such phrases as “bully for you,” “caved in,” “played out,” “you bet,” “you bet your life,” “your bottom dollar” or “your gumboots on it,” “on the make,” “on the sell,” “a big strike,” “can’t get a show,” “hit a streak,” and so on. We slept in a double-bedded room, and towards morning there was a tremendous crash, and Milton heard an angry growling proceeding from Cheadle, whose bed had come down with a run. At daybreak we were aroused by a number of fellows outside our door laughing, and shouting, “Who is this ---- fellow putting on frills?” In a weak and absent moment Cheadle had mechanically put his boots outside the door, as if expecting them to be cleaned, and this had properly excited their derision. [Illustration: THE “RATTLESNAKE GRADE.” (_See page 356._) Pavilion Mountain, British Columbia; Altitude, 4,000 feet.]