Mollie Adams Diary of her Journey in the Canadian Rockies, June 21, 1908

Mosquito Camp, Saturday, June 21.
Clouds down tight over everything, and raining gently. We waited by our own fireside till the packs were ready to start, about 11. Had not gone more than a quarter of a mile when W. yelled to know if any packs were ahead of us. As there were not, we waited developments for about half an hour. The Twins, who always gave U. endless trouble, had dashed off to one side at the rear, and gone back to their feeding ground on the rolling hills between camp and Mt. Wilson. They were haled back, and the long procession got under way again. W. rides at the head, H in the middle of the bunch, and U. at the back. The best horses, our last year’s bunch and the Peyto ones, mostly get in the front half, Dandy usually in the lead, so U. has as bad time with the laggards and the ones who don’t know the trail, and especially the aggravating little twins. They are only three year olds, Lucy is a light roan, and Biddy is sort of pinto, and they insist on ambling along side by side, seldom thinking of keeping to the trail. U. says the only time they are on the trail is when they accidentally cross it. They always bring up the rear, and the professor is said to use very touching expressions in talking to them, and admonishing them, but we have not been near enough to hear him yet. Camped after about 5 hrs. drive, at Graveyard Camp. Five horses got their packs wet crossing the river near camp, and of course all the sugar was in those packs, but being in Abercrombie’s waterproof bags the water only went through the bottom of them a little. The clouds rose gradually during the day, not very much rain, and some sickly sunshine after we reached camp. W. caught 9 nice trout in the tiny creek. Midget was left behind at Mosquito camp and a note for J. Simpson at this shack, asking him if he came across Midget when he was out, and found him in bad shape, please to shoot him. Another big piece of stick out of the foot, and W. thinks there is a chance of recovery.

Outfit of 1908, Mary Schäffer fonds, Whyte Museum of the Canadian Rockies, (V527/ PS 1 - 55)

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