The Rocky Mountains came in view on the 8th of October, and we reached the portage bearing their name on the 10th, the crossing of which took us eight days, being fully thirteen miles in length, and excessively bad road, leading sometimes through swamps and morasses, then ascending and descending steep:  hills, and for at least one-third of the distance so obstructed by fallen trees as to render it all but impassable.  I consider the passage of this portage the most laborious duty the Company’s servants have to perform in any part of the territory; and, as the voyageurs say, “He that passes it with his share of a canoe’s cargo may call himself a man.”

In the passage we came upon a large camp of Tsekanies, Mr. Eraser’s customers.  Their dialect is similar to that of the Beaver Indians, but they understand the Cree, which is the medium of communication between Mr. F. and them.  It thus appears that this language is understood from the shores of Labrador to the foot of the Rocky Mountains.

After passing the portage, the Rocky Mountains reared their snow-clad summits all around us, presenting a scene of gloomy grandeur, that had nothing cheering in it.  One scene, however, struck me as truly sublime.  As we proceeded onward the mountains pressed closer on the river, and at one place approached so near that the gap seemed to have been made by the river forcing a passage through them.  We passed in our canoes at the base of precipices that rose almost perpendicularly above us on either side to the height of 3,000 or 4,000 feet!  After passing through these magnificent portals, the mountains recede to a considerable distance, the space intervening between them and the river being a flat, yielding timber of a larger growth than I expected to find in such a situation.

We arrived at McLeod’s Lake—­Mr. Fraser’s post—­on the 25th, where a number of Indians were waiting their supplies.  They received us quite in a military style, with several discharges of fire-arms, and appeared delighted at the arrival of their chief.  They seemed to be on the best possible terms together—­the white chief and his red “tail".  They are Tsekanies, and are reputed honest, industrious, and faithful.

The outfit for this post is conveyed on horse-back from Stuart’s Lake.  A more dreary situation can scarcely be imagined, surrounded by towering mountains that almost exclude the light of day, and snow storms not seldom occurring, so violent and long continued as to bury the establishment.  I believe there are few situations in the country that present such local disadvantages; but there is the same miserable solitude everywhere; and yet we find natives of England, Scotland, and Ireland devoting their lives to a business that holds forth such prospects!  I remained with my new friend one day, enjoying the comforts of his eyry, and then set off for the goal of my long course, where I arrived on the 28th of October.