quarrelsome gang, was a tall, piratical-looking individual with a quick temper who was nevertheless not nearly so villainous as he pretended to be. He was not one of the openly lawless fraternity, but his methods of creating excitement in camp when things became over quiet for his liking were not looked upon with favour by the more peaceable members of the community. The 'Judge' who represented these was a stoutly built man, heavy of feature, slow of speech, but like lightning on the draw. This last accomplishment of his created both wonderment and admiration among his followers. He never enlightened them, however, as to how he, a self-styled dispenser of justice, should have attained such an enviable celerity with a deadly weapon of offence. He was one of the many human mysteries in these parts at that time, and it was unwise to be curious!

Perhaps my companions were more grieved than I was at our enforced stay in Sheep Camp, for life was intensely interesting to me at this stage, and I felt that here indeed was the very heart of Romance.

Each day we made a pilgrimage to the base of the summit to gaze at the frosted barrier that blocked our way, and once I succeeded in climbing to the very top, where I got an awesome view of Crater Lake, the source of the mighty Yukon, with beyond, the majestic pine-clad valley that led north to the land of our desire.

Looking back as I had come, I marvelled how the ascent had been accomplished. Far, far below, my companions looked like mere specks against the white background, and so directly beneath were they that I tossed a snowball down, which landed at their feet.

A great idea then flashed into my brain, and I determined to discuss it with Mac immediately I got down. I reached the 'scales,' as the saucer-like depression at the foot of the summit was called, after a nerve-racking experience, for there was no facilis descensus Averni' about the Chilcoot under snow, unless one wanted to come down as a corpse, which I didn't.

Mac and Stewart were no longer alone. A tall elderly man was standing by them, though no word was being spoken. A little way apart, a slight youth, muffled in furs, looked at me with startled eyes. The man had apparently been watching me, for now he said: 'Could you make that climb again, my boy?'

'I'm going to do it again!' I answered firmly. 'I'm going to throw a steel rope bridge over that Pass if I die in the attempt.'

'You probably would,' he commented mildly, 'unless-unless I gave you a hand.'

I looked at him in astonishment. Untried youth is impatient of age, and for a moment I thought that this must be one of the misfits of Sheep Camp come to offer cheap advice. But his face held me. It was of rugged mould, lighted up by a pair of deeply luminous eyes. There was something about it that radiated strength. I instinctively felt that this man was a leader and no follower of others. He studied me quizzically, while I deliberated with myself, and then he spoke again :

'I'm an engineer, laddie, and I guess you're of the same breed. I even think we've got a bond in common in the country we hail from. I came, like the rest, to make a fortune. According to the newspapers there was wealth for everyone on the Klondyke trail, and I needed it badly. But, here am I, up against my old friend, Nature, as usual.'

It was now that Mac nudged me and whispered a name into my ear. I had imagined myself immune to surprise by this time, for at Sheep Camp were there not bankers, lawyers, clergymen, doctors, soldiers, poets and what not—a silent army of men, with pain in their hearts, and maybe a secret in their lives? I thought I could no longer be moved by bizarre happenings of any kind; but I was mistaken. This was a man of my own race whom I knew to be distinguished in two continents-and he was on the gold trail! I could scarcely believe it.

'Are you really Dalrymple, the famous engineer who built the Bridge?' I asked, staring at him in wonder.

That same, laddie; I am the culprit; a good enough engineer, maybe, but no financier, and thereby hangs the usual tale of woe.'

He spoke in whimsical fashion, yet young as I was I could vision behind the mask: here was a man with honoured grey hairs, facing smilingly the battle which should have been youth's prerogative. Part of my mental make-up was an unwavering admiration for men who had done things,' and my allegiance went over to the engineer at once.

'I'm with you,' I said hurriedly,' and Mac's an engineer too, though he's too bulky to climb. As for Stewart, he's a sailor and can clamber about like a monkey, so he's bound to be useful.'

Dalrymple laughed heartily; evidently he was no misanthrope in spite of his fallen fortunes. He explained that he and his son had arrived at Sheep Camp during our absence, on that same day,

but had been unable to get any information about the Pass beyond that it was considered 'closed' for the winter.

'Life is short, my lad,' said he,' and I have no mind to hibernate in the gorge if I can possibly get ahead, and I don't see why everyone shouldn't get ahead if I can find some co-operation among the men.'

'Dad,' spoke the slim youth, coming forward, 'it looks-very terrible. Do you really think anything can be done?'

The engineer smiled, and patted the youngster on the shoulder, but he made no answer to the question.

There was no lack of co-operation offered when the great plan was made known to the camp. The engineer's announcement came like a bombshell among the assembled miners. There were many, of course, who jeered at the suggestion that the Pass could be. 'bridged,' but the majority were wildly enthusiastic. Oddly enough it was Black Bolton, the desperado, who made the first offer of assistance, and to the astonishment of all, he and the Judge joined forces and discussed the wonderful idea quite amicably.

The steel rope necessary to provide the 'travelling way' was obtained in short lengths from the various outfits' of the men, and spliced into lengthy sections. Pulleys large and pulleys small were carved out of pine tree boles, and smoothed and grooved with tomahawk and bowie knife. Rough tripods were hewn from the springy birches, and a giant windlass was fashioned, that defied description, so cunningly was it reinforced with bands of metal stripped from the sleigh treads, and all sorts of odds and ends of iron and steel that could be gleaned about the camp.

Fully a week was occupied in making these preparations for the conquest of the Pass, and during that time my particular job was 'steeple-jacking' up the 'summit' daily, to get the main tripod securely founded on top. (Incidentally, I may say that this tripod remained for the thousands to see that came along in the spring of '98, and no doubt they marvelled at its presence.)

Enthusiasm grew as the work neared completion, and when Stewart and I carried the guide line over the cap of the mountain, the joy of the hundred odd men who watched below was overwhelming. An impetus was added to our common efforts during the period of most strenuous activity, by the arrival of a young Indian from the 'inside,' with a message that 'Dawson was starving.' The few that had reached the frozen goldfields by way of St. Michael's had not thought to take with them sufficient stores to outlast the winter, and the ice had closed in, barring all retreat

so that they were already in dire straits. The Indian had come over the long trail to ask help for the white men so desperately situated-yet how could any help be possibly forthcoming at such a time?

Nevertheless, these men of the '97 Rush were inspired to think that their presence in the far North would assist matters. They talked of sharing their food with their afflicted fellows, and their quest was surely ennobled, for the gold lust now took secondary place in their thoughts. In the chill nights as they watched proceedings-for the vicinity was kept lit up by kerosene flares—they used to unite in singing that rousing chorus, Marching through Georgia,' as if it had some deep hidden meaning for them.

Dalrymple's plans were soundly considered. There was no error in any of his calculations, though there was a known weakness in some of the material he had to employ. How long the line of steel would last under the strain to be imposed upon it was a question which no one could answer. This was the one doubtful quantity in the engineer's mind, and it gave him much anxious thought. He was engrossed in his work, but he had an uncommercial spirit, and never once suggested that his labours should in any sense be rewarded. The men, however, had come to the unanimous decision that a payment of five cents a pound should be made for all goods transported over the Pass through the agency of the 'railway.' According to Black Bolton, the engineer and his ‘kid' must be placed beyond the need of going further on the trail, for one was too old to endure the hardships that must come, and the other was too young. It was well that this provision was made.

The great job was completed. The twin lines of moving steel stood the test until only a couple of sleigh loads remained to be sent on their aerial journey. Then the rope snapped where it had sagged against a protruding icy mass near the top, and in a flash the 'railway' was no more. It came whirring down from the heights, and filled the 'scales' with twisted coils and bouncing shapes.

Most of the men had crossed over by this time, for the accident happened late in the afternoon, and the camp being erected at Crater Lake, on the 'other' side, required urgent attention before the night. The engineer only laughed when he saw his handiwork disappear like a cobweb that had been brushed away.

'It has served its purpose,' he said. 'It couldn't have lasted through the first blizzard, anyhow.'

He was a strange individual, big-hearted and generous to a fault, with only, it seemed, one abiding care-the welfare of his boy. My attachment to him at the beginning deepened as I came to know the man better. It was his habit to philosophise to me frequently on the grandeur and the might of Nature.

She fights hard to hold her solitudes, my boy,' he repeated again and again, 'and-she generally wins in the end.'

When on one occasion I expressed my opinion that the structure he had designed would outlast the coming blizzards, he shook his head, and corrected me in words that come clear to my memory over the lapse of years:

'Man's greatest effort is but a trifling thing, laddie. It endures for such a little while, but Nature is eternal. I have pitted my poor bit of worldly science against her ever since I began my career -and that was many years ago—but even in my success I felt humbled, for I learned from her that the span of human life is but a weakly spark in an infinitude of mystery.'

He waited by the now silent windlass, and cheered the last of the stragglers on their way over the gloomy mountain. Foot by foot the trail must be negotiated, with hands free to clutch at the frozen snow that adhered like a film to the face of the rock. At length there remained below with him only Black Bolton and myself. I knew every inch of that treacherous track, and Bolton too, had made the passage more than once in these last few days. It was our purpose to tackle the climb now with Dalrymple roped between, but no argument could make the engineer agree.

He

My heart is young, but my joints are stiff,' said he, almost jocularly; 'I am no light weight either, and if I fall' shook his head, and did not continue.

But at last he reluctantly consented to allow a rope to be looped beneath his shoulders, the free end of which either Bolton or I should carry. At the most, he thought, he should only require to be steadied on the climb. And so we started. Bolton went first, agile and sure in every movement. I followed, my eyes nearly level with his feet, balancing myself at intervals as the line which I held tautened in my grip. Soon I found that the rope in my hand impeded my advance, and I hitched it to my belt despite the hoarse protests of the man coming after. I had no thought of danger; my only uneasiness was caused by the dizzying sensation which seized me when I tried to look back to see how Dalrymple was faring. And the man struggling so painfully behind