You don't know what a blessing it is to feel perfect security against thievery. I started away from home with the idea that one's supplies had to be watched continually. It is simply the opposite. Things are piled up any and every where. On the banks, on the ice, hung up in the trees to escape the only thieves—the dogs. Our supplies all lie out of doors, and our dunnage bags too, with only a tarpaulin thrown over them. If a man on the trail finds his load too heavy he simply drops part of it on the wayside, marks the spot with a pole or stick and next day picks up if he comes that way. If he does not for a week, it is perfectly secure. This may be thrashing old shaff but it impresses me wonderfully....

—Alfred McMichael Letter, May 1898.

#83