SHOOTING THE WHITE HORSE RAPIDS

It was a month later when we reached the shores of Lake Lindermanen routefor the frozen North. The Chilcoot Pass had presented an almost impassable barrier to our advance; a light film of snow clung to the bare rocks and filled the numberless crevices of the “Summit"—that last grim climb, where the Dyea trail mounts all but perpendicularly upwards to the blizzard-swept glacier cap of the pass—and no room for foothold could be traced. It would be impossible to describe that frightful climb. When we reached the top and saw far below the twisting line of Indian “packers,” who seemed to stick like flies to the white wall, we could not understand how the ascent had been accomplished.

Crater Lake, on the “other” side,