course in the canyons it is very much swifter.

The Little Salmon River takes him to Five Finger Rapids, a distance of one hundred and twenty miles. In the Five Finger Rapids the voyage should be made on the right side of the river, going with the current. These rapids are considered safe by careful management, but the novice will already have had sufficient experience in guiding his boat before reaching them.

From Five Finger Rapids the traveller goes six miles below, down the Lewes, to the Rink Rapids. On going through the Rink Rapids, he continues on the Lewes River to Fort Selkirk, the trading post of Harper and Ladue, where the Pelly and Lewes, at their junction, form the headwaters of the Yukon. You are now at the head of the Yukon River, and the worst part of your trip is over.

You now commence to go down the Yukon, and after a trip of ninety-eight miles, you are in the White River. You keep on the White River for ten miles, to the Stewart River, and then twenty-five miles to Fort Ogilvie. You are now only forty miles from Dawson City.

Your journey is now almost ended. After a forty-mile trip on the Yukon, you arrive at Dawson City, where the Klondyke empties in the Yukon.

All through this trip you have been going through a mountainous country, the trees there being pine, a small amount of spruce, cottonwood and birch. You have not seen much game, if any, as it is growing scarce along that line of river, and very hard to find. The traveller had therefore better make preparation to depend on the provisions he has brought with him. If he has stopped to fish, he may have been successful in catching whitefish, grayling and lake trout, along the lakes and rivers.

The total journey from Seattle to Dawson City has taken about two months. In connection with this trip from Juneau to Dawson City, it is perhaps better to give the reader the benefit of the trip of Mr. William Stewart, who writes from Lake Lindeman, May 31st, 1897, as follows:—

"We arrived here at the south end of the lake last night by boat. We have had an awful time of it. The Taiya Pass is not a pass at all, but a climb right over the mountains. We left Juneau on Thursday, the twentieth, on a little boat smaller than the ferry at Ottawa. There were over sixty aboard, all in one room about ten by fourteen. There was baggage piled up in one end so that the floor-space was only about eight by eight. We went aboard about three o'clock in the afternoon and went ashore at Dyea at seven o'clock Friday night. We got the Indians to pack all our stuff up to the summit, but about fifty pounds each; I had forty-eight pounds and my gun.

"We left Dyea, an Indian village, Sunday, but only got up the river one mile. We towed all the stuff up the river seven miles, and then packed it to Sheep Camp. We reached Sheep Camp about seven o'clock at night, on the Queen's Birthday. A beautiful time we had, I can tell you, climbing hills with fifty pounds on our backs. It would not be so bad if we could strap it on rightly.

"We left Sheep Camp next morning at four o'clock, and reached the summit at half-past seven. It was an awful climb—an angle of about fifty-five degrees. We could keep our hands touching the trail all the way up. It was blowing and snowing up there. We paid off the Indians, and got some sleighs and sleighed the stuff down the hill. This hill goes down pretty swift, and then drops at an angle of fifty-five degrees for about forty feet, and we had to rough-lock our sleighs and let them go. There was an awful fog, and we could not see where we were going. Some fellows helped us down with the first load, or there would have been nothing left of us. When we let a sleigh go from the top it jumps about fifty feet clear, and comes down in pieces. We loaded up the sleighs with some of our stuff, about two hundred and twenty-five pounds each, and started across the lakes. The trail was awful, and we waded through water and slush two and three feet deep. We got to the mouth of the canyon at about eight o'clock at night, done out. We left there that night, and pushed on again until morning. We got to the bottom of an awful hill, and packed all our stuff from there to the hill above the lake. We had about two and a half miles over hills, in snow and slush. I carried about five hundred pounds over that part of the trail. We had to get dogs to bring the stuff down from the summit to the head of the canyon.

"We worked two days bringing the stuff over from the canyon to the hill above the lake. Saturday we worked all day packing down the hill to the lake, and came here on a scow. We were out yesterday morning cutting down trees to build a boat. The timber is small, and I don't think we can get more than four-inch stuff. It rained all afternoon, and we couldn't do anything. There are about fifty boats of all sorts on Lake Bennet, which is about half a mile from here. I have long rubber boots up to the hips, and I did not have them on coming from the summit down, but I have worn them ever since.

"We met Barwell and Lewis, of Ottawa, to-day. They were out looking for knees for their boats. They left Ottawa six weeks ago, and have not got any farther than we have. There was a little saw-mill going here, and they have their lumber sawn. We have it that warm some days here that you would fairly roast, and the next day you would be looking for your overcoat. Everybody here seems to be taking in enough food to do them a couple of years.

"We are now in Canadian territory, after we passed the summit. I will have to catch somebody going through to Dyea to give him this letter, but I don't know how long before I can get any one going through. This is the last you will hear from me until I get down to the Klondyke."

Mr. Stewart adds: "I wrote this in the tent at 11 o'clock at night during twilight."

If you take this trip in winter, however, you have to purchase a sled at
Juneau, and sled it over the frozen waterways to Dawson City.

For the benefit of my readers in Canada and for parties leaving for the great Northwest Territory for the gold fields, I take pleasure in quoting the following description of a Canadian route:—

"Canadians should awaken to the fact that they have emphatically 'the inside track' to their own gold fields, a route not half the distance, largely covered by railways and steamboats, with supply stations at convenient intervals all the way. By this route the gold-fields can be reached in two months or six weeks, and the cost of travel is ridiculously cheap—nearly anybody can afford to go even now, and by the spring it should be fitted out for the accommodation of any amount of traffic.

"The details of the information in the following article are given by Mr. A.H.H. Heming, the artist who accompanied Mr. Whitney in his journey towards the Barren Lands, and the data may be accepted as correct, as they were secured from the Hudson Bay officials.

"The details of the inland Canadian route, briefly, are as follows: By C.P.R. to Calgary, and thence north by rail to Edmonton; from there by stage to Athabasca Landing, 40 miles; then, there is a continuous waterway for canoe travel to Fort Macpherson, at the mouth of the Mackenzie River, from which point the Peel River lies southward to the gold region. The exact figures are as follows:

                                                 MILES.
Edmonton to Athabasca Landing 40
To Port McMurray 240
Fort Chippewyan 185
Smith Landing 102
Fort Smith 16
Fort Resolution