Here we left the regular road and took the trail to Dunmore in the hope we could get across from that place to Seven Persons without going into Medicine Hat, which would have saved several miles - B's mania for trying new trails was the real reason - Everything went well until we reached Dunmore, but there we were told that the cross trails were poor and rough and that we should make better time by going through the Hat. However, we had lost no mileage so continued through that place without stopping and immediately after started looking for a suitable campsite. Good camping grounds there were in the plenty in the coulee, but no way of getting down to them without going quite a distance out of our road, so finally we again camped in the open at 8:30. This, in the month of August, is as late as the making of camp should be left if the work is to be done in any sort of comfort. Later on, camps were selected, wood rustled, supper cooked and eaten and beds made at all hours of the night owing to misadventure on the road and our feverish anxiety to arrive at our goal - the sea. At this spot, 10 miles from Medicine Hat (S.W.) and 83 miles from Maple Creek, there was no lack of firewood, a cyclone having at some time demolished a homesteader's shack and scattered the wreckage all over the prairie. All hands assisted in gathering wood and laying out the beds, while L. boiled the kettle and got supper. B. would insist on running barefoot, but as there were many cactus of the pincushion variety he soon learnt to walk delicately. Supper of pork and beans followed by a smoke round the campfire induced a state of mind receptive to the maxims of the afore-mentioned Mrs. Hurd and left us at peace with the world.

Breakfast bright and early next morning enabled us to start by 5:30 am. Incidentally, the last of our water supply being required for tea, we unanimously decided that washing was merely an adjunct to an effete civilization and could easily be - postponed.

The country between Medicine Hat and Taber is not interesting, the most noticeable feature being the number of deserted farms - the condition of Southern Alberta in this respect being at least as tragic as that of South Western Saskatchewan, and for the same reason, a fair ranching country proved to be quite unsuitable for farming - Irrigation at Taber and West to Lethbridge appears to be proving successful where the water is available and pober care is taken, especially from Coaldale to Lethbridge where we noticed some magnificent crops of second growth alfalfa. Just before reaching Coaldale a ditch had been neglected, with the result that the road was flooded, and although Maudie charged it gallantly she could not quite get through. Fortunately a farmer, who was endeavoring to make the surplus water keep to one course through his wheat field, breathing lurid threats against his careless neighbor the while, was working close to the road and lent a helping hand. So with W. at the wheel and B. and the farmer pushing, Maudie squattered out. In return for which assistance we reported the overflow to the authorities in Coaldale. We reached Lethbridge at 11:30, after a run of 105 miles and pulled up on the north side of Galt Gardens. The Kid elected to stay in the car and sleep while the rest of us went to view the town, send postcards and make a few purchases including certain toilet requisites for Maudie, after which we drove to the river and lunched. On a former visit views of the railway bridge had been obtained, so L., who had been duly appointed Photographer in chief with W. as his assistant contented himself with a picture of the traffic bridge over the South Saskatchewan River, which though not so famous is far nicer. Lunch - and a washup - over, we crossed the bridge and climbed out of the coulee, coming out on top onto dry burnt up country. Just beyond Kipp we tried to get a photo of the belly river and valley from the top of a high cut-bank, but the distance was too great: the view, however, was well worth stopping for. Uninteresting country again, but great excitement on catching the first faint outline of the Rockies. These by the way, must be in Montana, as they lie well to the Southwest. The question as to who first saw the outline is still unsettled, each of us being quite sure that it was he, but did not mention the fact for fear it might prove to be a cloud.

As a general thing the Alberta roads are good and we were not long in reaching Macleod, 35 miles from Lethbridge. Here W. was induced to purchase a guide-book, which if not accurate was at least interesting, and also secured a picture of the R.N.W.M.P. barracks, more for the historical interest than for the architectural beauty of the buildings, this being the oldest post in Alberta. About 2 miles out of Macleod Maudie developed a hole in her sock almost at the identical spot where her predecessor of two years ago had done the same thing. The hole having been darned literally and metaphorically, we providing the while interest and amusement to a number of passing Indians who were passing on their way to town, our progress was continued Westward. The road runs through the Peigan Reserve for a considerable distance before reaching Brocket, where it crosses Pincher Creek. Here, again there was much new grading, and we made slow time as far as the town of Pincher. About half way between that place and Cowley we crossed the South fork of the Old Man River. This is the first really clear mountain stream and a favorite camping spot, judging by the quantity of empty cans and other junk scattered round. We could not resist stopping for a drink for ourselves and Maudie. W. made a bee line for a large rock where he removed his shoes, assuring us that it was "Oh most refreshing". Cowley is almost the last place that is even remotely dependent on agriculture for its existence and from this point the scenery improves rapidly, although there is some cultivation as far as Lundbreck. The Mountains to the South of us were now in plain sight and offered a fine view of ragged peaks. Immediately west of Lundbreck the road dips into the valley and crosses Old Man River, climbing the north bank parallel with the stream. The hills now close in rapidly and a few stunted firs appear: these first outposts of the trees have a hard existence and show the effect of the prevailing wind, which blows almost daily through the pass. The way they cling to the outcrops of rock is wonderful, appearing to be only able to survive when their roots are imbedded in the rocks. The formation of the outcrop is also very peculiar, almost straight lines of ridges, broken by the river valley but continuing again on the other side and suggesting the ribs of some prehistoric monster, but of such huge dimensions that they might well be called the ribs of the world. We were now again on the watch of a suitable camp and as we rounded a turn in the road we saw what appeared to be an ideal spot on a small flat where the river turned from a high bank with trees and brush in the angle. This was some distance ahead, and unfortunately for us appeared to be almost inaccessible, being shut off from the road by a ravine to the east, also a railroad grade and rocky hill to steep for Maudie to climb. About a quarter of a mile further on however, we came to a coal mine, not in operation, and noticed what appeared to be a gate in the railroad fence, to reach which it was necessary to cross some old coal sidings and dumps. Scouting parties at once went out and decided that all obstacles could be overcome. The coal dumps were easy, only requiring care, the track was crossed with the aid of old slabs to break the jar of the rails, and by making a sharp turn alongside the track and following the grade back a short distance a place was found where we could easily cross the fence on the south side of the track. From here we had only to skirt the side of the hill to reach the spot we were making for, which more than justified the rather tiresome quarter mile we had to negotiate in order to reach it. At this camp, our fourth night since leaving Regina, brush beds of creeping spruce and cherry were prepared by B. and the Kid, while L. got supper and W. made himself generally useful. Although we had covered 191 miles and the beds guaranteed sleep, yet it was so gloriously peaceful and comfortable round the campfire on this clean, grassy, little flat - sheltered and surrounded by brush, trees and small hills - with the clear sky above, and the music of the river burbling contentedly on its way to Hudson's Bay, that it was only with the greatest reluctance that we finally turned in after performing what was in future a nightly duty, viz., locating the North Star and from that determining the exact point at which the sun would appear.