Jack the Young Canoeman: An Eastern Boy's Voyage in a Chinook Canoe
by George Bird Grinnell · English · Gutenberg #46289 · 513,563 chars · public domain (US)
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Title: Jack the Young Canoeman: An Eastern Boy's Voyage in a Chinook Canoe
Author: George Bird Grinnell
Illustrator: Edwin Willard Deming
Release date: July 15, 2014 [eBook #46289]
Most recently updated: October 24, 2024
Language: English
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[Illustration: AS THE DEER BOUNCED UP THE BANK, JACK FIRED--_Page 41_]
JACK THE YOUNG CANOEMAN
An Eastern Boy's Voyage in a Chinook Canoe
by
GEORGE BIRD GRINNELL
Author of "Jack in the Rockies," "Jack the Young Ranchman,"
"Jack Among the Indians," "Pawnee Hero Stories," "Blackfoot
Lodge Tales," "The Story of the Indian,"
"The Indian of To-day," etc.
Illustrated by Edwin Willard Deming
And by Half-tone Engravings of Photographs
[Illustration]
New York
Frederick A. Stokes Company
Publishers
Copyright, 1906
By Frederick A. Stokes Company
Published in September, 1906
All rights reserved
The University Press, Cambridge, U.S.A.
PREFACE
The mountains which border the British Columbia coast between the mouth
of the Frazer River and the southeastern point of Alaska are still
unknown to the world at large. Few people have sailed up the wonderful
fiords, which, as great water-floored canyons, run back forty or fifty
miles into the interior. Fewer still have penetrated by land into the
mountains where there are neither roads nor trails, and where progress
on foot is barred by a thousand insurmountable obstacles.
Since the time that Jack Danvers made his voyage in a Chinook canoe
along this beautiful coast, it has not greatly changed. The mountains
still abound in game, the sea in fish; the scenery is as beautiful as
it was then; and over the waters, dancing blue beneath the brilliant
sky, or black under the heavy rain clouds, the Indian still paddles his
high-prowed canoe.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. VICTORIA, V. I. 11
II. HOW JACK AND HUGH CAME TO BRITISH COLUMBIA 22
III. A MYSTERIOUS WATER MONSTER 31
IV. THE COBBLER NATURALIST OF BURRARD INLET 40
V. AN UNEXPECTED BEAR 53
VI. OF INDIANS IN ARMOR 68
VII. SEAMMUX IN DANGER 78
VIII. THE COAST INDIANS AND THEIR WAYS 91
IX. PREPARATION FOR THE VOYAGE 103
X. THE START 111
XI. FOOD FROM THE SEA 124
XII. THE ISLAND DEER 135
XIII. AN ADVENTURE OF THE CASSIAR 147
XIV. BUTE INLET 158
XV. THE WORK THAT GLACIERS DO 172
XVI. A MOTHER'S COURAGE 189
XVII. JACK MEETS A SEAL PIRATE 209
XVIII. MILLIONS OF SALMON 228
XIX. FISHING WITH A SIWASH 236
XX. OFF FOR A HUNT IN THE MOUNTAINS 251
XXI. LAST DAYS IN BRITISH COLUMBIA 264
XXII. THE HOMEWARD ROAD 277
ILLUSTRATIONS
As the deer bounded up the bank, Jack fired _Frontispiece_
Jack fired at the white spot on the beast's breast _Facing page_ 58
Seammux also rolled after the goat, and he, too,
disappeared " " 82
Here they wear white men's clothes, including
shoes and hats " " 92
"Close to some of the houses stand tall carved
poles, called totem poles" " " 98
When they saw the canoe they all stopped and
began to stare at it " " 190
Drove her short horns deep into his side " " 204
An Indian salmon weir " " 234
Jack the Young Canoeman
CHAPTER I
VICTORIA, V. I.
"Say, Hugh, what is that Indian doing in that canoe? I thought at first
that he was paddling, but he doesn't seem to move, and that doesn't
look like a paddle that he has in his hand."
"To tell you the truth, son, I don't know what he is doing. This
business here on the salt water puzzles me, and everything is strange
and queer. This ain't like the prairie, nor these ain't like any
mountains that I've ever seen. I am beginning at the bottom and have
got to learn everything. But about that Indian in the canoe, you can
see that the boat doesn't move; and you can see, too, if you look
sharp, that he's anchored. Don't you see that taut line reaching down
into the water?"
"That's so," said Jack; "he surely is anchored, but he works his arms
just as if he were paddling. I am going to ask this man over here."
Jack walked over to a sailor who stood leaning against the rail of the
deck on which they were sitting, and who was looking over the water,
and said to him: "Will you tell me, sir, what that Indian is doing in
the canoe over there?"
The man turned his head and looked in the direction in which Jack
was pointing, and said: "Yes, I can tell you what he is doing; he is
fishing. Don't you see that every stroke he makes he is bringing up
some herrings?"
"No, I don't see it, and I will be much obliged to you if you will
describe to me how he is fishing."
"Of course I will," said the man. "You see his canoe is anchored there
in that deep water, just this side of that point around which the tide
runs strong. At this season of the year the herrings gather in big
schools in that eddy there. Of course we don't know just how they lie,
but they must be mighty thick together. That thing the Indian has in
his hand is a pole about a dozen feet long, flattened on the sides,
and maybe a couple of inches across in its widest part. The flattening
makes the pole sort of oval shaped, if you should saw through it; and
each of the narrow edges of the pole is studded with a row of sharp
nails, about an inch or two apart. These nails are firmly driven into
the wood and the points that stick out for about an inch are very
sharp. The nails run for about one half the length of the pole. The
Indian, sitting in his canoe and holding the upper part of the pole in
his two hands, as you see, just as he would hold a paddle, sweeps the
end of it, that has the nails in, through the water, using just the
same motion that he does in paddling. The herrings down there are so
thick that every time he passes the pole vertically through the water
it strikes the bodies of three or four of the fish with force enough to
drive the nails into them; and as the man continues the stroke they are
pushed ahead of the pole. When the stroke is finished and the end of
the pole brought out of the water, the fish are still sticking on the
nails. Then, you will see, if you watch him, he brings the nailed end
of the pole in over the canoe, taps the pole on the canoe, and the fish
drop off into the bottom of the boat. Don't you see the white shiny
specks on the pole every time he makes a stroke?"
"Yes," said Jack, "of course I see them, but that is a new way of
fishing to me, and I never should have guessed what he was trying to
do. I should think it would take a long time to get fish enough for a
mess in that way."
"Don't you believe it," said the sailor; "one of those fellows may get
a bushel or two of fish in two or three hours. Just you watch the pole
as one brings it up and see how many fish he gets to a stroke, and then
figure how many strokes he makes to a minute."
Jack watched for a few minutes and saw that at every sweep of the pole
two or half a dozen fish were brought up and knocked loose so as to
fall into the canoe, and he made up his mind that after all this was a
quick and easy way of fishing.
In the meantime Hugh had strolled up and was listening to their talk,
but without making any comment.
Presently Jack said to the sailor: "We are not near enough to make a
very good guess at the size of those fish; how big are they?"
"Oh," said the sailor, "they are not very big, maybe not more than four
or six inches long, but there are lots of them, as you can see. They
catch oolichans in that way too, when they are here, but they have gone
now. We only have them during the month of May, but then they gather in
certain places and there are worlds of them. The Indians catch them,
and the white folks catch them; in fact, for a little while pretty
nearly everybody lives on oolichans. They are mighty good eating, I
can tell you, and besides those eaten fresh, lots of them are smoked
and salted. The Indians don't save many of them. What they don't eat
fresh they use to make oil with, for the oolichan is an awful fat fish
and you can get lots of oil out of them. They are so fat, that after
they have been dried you can light them at one end and they will burn
just like a candle. I expect that is the reason that sometimes they are
called candle-fish."
"Say, friend," said Hugh, "you ain't joking, are you?"
"No," said the man, "I ain't joking; that's just the way it is, like I
tell you."
"Well, no offence," said Hugh. "Where I come from, in the mountains
and in the cattle country, sometimes the boys, when a stranger comes
around, sort of josh him in a good-natured way, and tell tall stories
just to see how much he will believe. I didn't know that maybe you had
such a custom as that out here."
"No, sir," said the sailor, "we don't do anything like that here. We
suppose that people ask us questions about the country because they
want to know how things really are, and we tell them just what the
facts are."
"Well," said Hugh, "it seems to me, from what I have seen, that the
facts are strange enough here, and it wouldn't be necessary for you to
stretch them a mite to astonish folks."
Soon after this Hugh and Jack went back to the place where they had
been sitting, in the shelter of the deck cabin, and sat there looking
over the beautiful view that was stretched out before them. Neither
said very much. Both were impressed by the beauty of the scene and
the novelty of their surroundings; for neither of them had ever seen
anything like it before.
"I tell you, son," said Hugh, "this here is a wonderful country to
me, and I never saw anything to match it. You see it's the first time
that I ever got down to the edge of the salt water. I don't know what
to make of it all. Everything is different; the mountains and timber,
the people, the animals, and the birds. And as for fish--why! I never
supposed there was any place in the world where fish were as plenty as
they are here."
"Yes," said Jack, "it's surely a wonderful country. There is something
new to look at every minute; and it's all just as different as can be
from anything I ever saw before. I was talking to one of the passengers
here a little while ago and he told me that these Indians here live
almost altogether on fish. They dig clams and catch mussels and catch
the salmon and the herrings and those little fish this sailor was
talking about; and they kill seals and porpoises and even whales. It's
all mighty strange, but doesn't it show just how people fit themselves
to the conditions that surround them? Now, suppose you take one of the
Blackfeet, turn him loose on his horse at the edge of the water, and
how do you think he would go to work to get his next meal? Why, he
would starve to death."
"He surely would," said Hugh. "Don't you know, that the things these
Indians here eat would be sort of poison to the Blackfeet? It is
against their medicine to eat fish or most anything that lives in the
water. They think those things are not fit to eat, and many of them
would starve before they would even touch them."
The vessel ploughed its way through the strait with the land rising
high on the right and lower on the left-hand side. Both coasts were
rock-bound, and the heavy swell dashed against the shore great waves,
whose foam flew high into the air. Away to the south rose high rough
mountains, their summits white with snow. To the north the land rose
gently, and green fields, dotted here and there with white houses,
stretched away for miles. Beyond were hills, forest-clad.
The travellers were busy looking in all directions at the beautiful
prospect spread before them. Suddenly, not far from the ship, a great
head rose above the water, remaining there for a moment looking at
the boat. Jack saw it and called out to his companion: "O Hugh! that
must be a sea-lion or a fur seal! It's bigger than the seals that I
have seen on the coast of Maine." After a moment the head disappeared
beneath the water. But in a few moments several other heads were seen;
and these seals, less timid than the first, swam along not far from
the boat, showing their great bodies partly out of the water, and
sometimes, in chasing one another, jumping high into the air. Further
along, the boat startled from the surface of the water a group of black
birds. Less in size than ducks, they flew swiftly along, close to the
water's surface. Jack could see that on the shoulders of each bird was
a round spot of white, while the legs were coral-red.
"There is a new bird to me, Hugh, and I bet it is to you, too. That
must be one of the birds they call guillemots. They live up in the
North and breed on the ledges of the rock. I have read about them
often."
"Well," said Hugh, "there's surely plenty to see here; and I wouldn't
be surprised if you and I travelled around all the time with our mouths
open, just because we are too surprised to remember to shut them."
All this time the boat was moving swiftly along. Toward afternoon she
rounded a sharp point of rocks; and, proceeding up a narrow channel,
the buildings of the town of Victoria were soon seen in the distance.
Hugh said:
"That must be our landing place, son. I'll be glad to get ashore and
stretch my legs. I take it, this here land that we are coming to is an
island, and very likely there won't be a horse in the place. We'll have
to do all of our travelling afoot, or in one of these cranky canoes,
and I haven't much of a notion of getting into one of them. I'll be a
good deal like you were the first time you got on a horse--afraid I'll
fall off; and yet I don't know as they'll be any harder to ride in than
the birch canoes I used to travel in up in the North."
Victoria, where our travellers landed that afternoon, was a charming,
quiet town of six or seven thousand inhabitants, situated on the
extreme southeastern point of Vancouver Island. For many years after
its settlement it had been nothing more than the Hudson's Bay fort and
trading post, with a few dwellings occupied by those employed there.
But the discovery of gold in small quantities on the Frazer River in
1857, and later on at the placer mines on the Quesnelle and at Caribou,
made a great change in the prospects of the place. Word of the new
diggings travelled fast and soon reached California, causing a world of
excitement among the mining population of that State, then ripe for a
fresh move. A rush took place, and all those who travelled toward the
new mines in British Columbia passed by the drowsy old Hudson's Bay
fort, where hitherto the only event of the year had been the arrival of
the ship from England with the mail. Now the fort was startled by the
coming of twenty thousand miners, who pitched their tents about it and
founded Victoria. Buildings sprang up and trade was attracted. Every
one going to the mines or coming from them passed through the town
and paid its tribute, and high hopes were entertained of its future
importance. People who lived there began to call it "the emporium of
commerce," "the metropolis of the northwest coast of America." But,
unfortunately for Victoria, the mines, which caused this excitement
soon ceased to pay; and the town's commerce fell off. It did not fulfil
the promises of its early youth, and its growth has since been slow.
Now, however, there was a prospect of speedy communication with the
rest of the world; for during the summer when our travellers reached
there, the Canadian Pacific Railroad was being built and the loyal
inhabitants of Victoria were again anticipating that the place would
become a great city--"a second San Francisco." There was reason for
their hopes. While the railroad could not directly reach Victoria, its
terminus on the mainland would be within easy reach of the Island City,
and would give Vancouver Island a market for its products. Its trade
at that time was little or nothing, for the goods sent to the United
States had to pay a heavy duty, which left little margin for profit.
Hugh and Jack spent several days at Victoria. The country was
picturesque and attractive, and the roads good. They took long walks
into the country to the Gorge and to Cedar Hill, from which a beautiful
view of the city could be obtained. The panorama included also a view
of the Straits of Fuca, the Gulf of Georgia with its hundreds of
islands, and the mainland, rough with mountain peaks, among which,
rising above all, stood Mt. Baker, calm and white, a snow-clad monarch.
While they remained in the town they lived literally on the fat of
the land. Victoria boasted one of the best hotels in the world; not
a pretentious structure, but one where everything that was good to
eat, in abundance, well cooked and well served, was furnished. There
were fish of many sorts,--salmon and sea bass, herring and oolichans,
oysters and clams, crabs, game, delicious vegetables, and abundance of
fruit.
Mr. Sturgis had given to Hugh a letter to an acquaintance of his in
Victoria, and one day Hugh and Jack called on Mr. MacTavish. He was
an old Hudson Bay man, who, after retiring from the service of the
Company had come to Victoria to live. He had a delightful family, and a
charming house, full of a multitude of interesting curiosities, picked
up during his long service in the North. Of these, one of the most
interesting was a complete set of dinner dishes, carved out of black
slate by the Haida Indians of the North. While the figures exhibited on
these were conventional in form and of Indian type, the carving was so
remarkably good that it was hard for Hugh and Jack to believe that the
work was Indian. Neither had ever seen anything done by Indians more
artistic than the ordinary painted skins of the plains' Tribes; and
when they saw such delicate, beautifully carved work, often inlaid with
the white teeth or fragments of bones of animals, it was hard for them
to understand how it all could have been done by native artists.
Mr. MacTavish told them much about the life of the island,--the fishing
and hunting. He said that at that very time, during the month of July,
the salt waters of the Straits and of the Gulf of Georgia abounded with
salmon, which were readily taken by trolling; and when thus taken, on a
light rod, furnished fine sport. Many of the brooks of the island, too,
afforded excellent trout fishing.
About Victoria there were found, he said, two species of grouse,--the
ruffed grouse and the blue grouse. The California quail had been
introduced and seemed to be increasing, but sportsmen did not care much
for it, because it did not lie well to a dog, but ran when alarmed and
took to the thickest brush, where it was impossible to shoot it. In the
autumn ducks and geese occurred in great numbers; and, on the whole,
shooting was good. Their host also told them there was a considerable
variety of big game. Deer were abundant within a few miles of Victoria;
and it was not uncommon for people, starting out in the evening, to
drive into the country and return the next night with several. There
were some places where still-hunting could be successfully followed;
but in most cases it was necessary to use hounds to drive the deer to
the water, for the timber was so thick, and the underbrush and ferns so
dense and tangled, that it was impossible to travel through the forests
without making a great deal of noise.
Their entertainer astonished Hugh and Jack by telling them that further
north on the island, in the neighborhood of Comox, elk were to be
found. They were not abundant, he said, and were hard to approach on
account of the character of the forest; but they were certainly there.
Bears and panthers were everywhere quite abundant. Sooke, a village
about twenty miles from Victoria, was a great place for bears. Many of
those killed were black or cinnamon; but it was reported that there
were also grizzlies at Sooke. The panthers were little hunted, except
in places where farmers had flocks or herds to protect. They lived
principally on the deer, which were very abundant. There were a few
wolves, but except in winter they were seldom seen.
Mr. MacTavish had a good knowledge of natural history; and he had much
to say to Jack, who was interested in the subject, about the curious
forms of life found in the surrounding waters. When he heard that
Jack and Hugh had come up there to spend a month travelling among the
islands, he told them that the best thing that they could do would be
to go over to the mainland, and there make the acquaintance of Jack
Fannin, a cobbler, living on Burrard Inlet, as he knew more about the
birds and mammals of the Province than any other man.
"Fannin is the man for you," said Mr. MacTavish, "and you should see
him before you make up your minds to do anything. He will give you the
best advice possible; and perhaps you can even get him to go with you.
That would be a great thing; it would add enormously to your pleasure,
and would save you many delays. And as he has mined, hunted, canoed,
and chopped logs over much of the coast, he knows it as well as any
one."
Our friends spent a long, delightful afternoon with Mr. MacTavish,
and when they spoke of returning to their hotel he would not let them
go, but kept them with him for the evening meal. They walked back
through the clear, cool moonlight to Victoria, and before they had
reached there had agreed that they would go by the first steamer to New
Westminster to hunt up Mr. Fannin.
The next day when they told Mr. MacTavish of their decision, he
congratulated them on their good judgment and gave them a letter to a
friend in New Westminster, who would take care of them and see that
they lost no time in finding the man they wanted.
The hospitality and kindness shown the two Americans by Mr. MacTavish
was typical of the treatment they received everywhere in British
Columbia. People there, they found, had time to enjoy life. They did
not rush about, after the headlong American fashion, but took things
quietly and easily. The stores were opened about nine or ten in the
morning, and at twelve they were closed. The shop-keepers went home to
lunch, appearing again and reopening their places about two o'clock;
keeping them open until four or five in the afternoon. Then their day's
work was over and they closed up for the night.
CHAPTER II
HOW JACK AND HUGH CAME TO BRITISH COLUMBIA
Two days later Hugh and Jack started by steamer for the town of New
Westminster, near the mouth of the Fraser River, on the mainland. The
trip was one of great beauty, for the boat wound its way here and there
amid the many islands of the gulf; and as each one was passed a new
vista of beauty burst on the view. And, while the two travellers are
sitting on the steamer's deck, admiring the wonderful scenery opening
on all sides, wondering at the new birds and animals which appeared,
and talking over the possibilities for their summer trip, it may be
explained how it came to pass that these two friends found themselves
so far from their homes and from the high, dry plains where the summers
of the three previous years had been passed by both.
It was six months before--to be exact, it was on Christmas Day--that
the thought of the trip to British Columbia had first been broached.
Mr. Sturgis, Jack's uncle, had come back from the ranch and was
spending the winter with Jack's father and mother at the house on
Thirty-Eighth Street; and it was while they were sitting at dessert
during their Christmas dinner that Mr. Sturgis had announced that
during the next summer it would be necessary for him to go out to
British Columbia to inspect a mine in which he was interested, and had
proposed that Jack should go with him.
For three years past Jack had spent the summer on the western plains.
Ill health had been the first cause of his going out to Swiftwater
Ranch, where he had learned to ride, to hunt big game, and to live the
life of a ranchman. So greatly had he been benefited by this trip, that
the next summer he was permitted to return to the ranch. Then he and
old Hugh Johnson had travelled north, across the lonely, buffalo-dotted
plains, until they had come to the country of the Piegan Blackfeet,
where they had spent the summer in the Indian camp, and Jack had seen
much of Indian life--of its charms and its dangers. He returned at
length down the Missouri River to the railroad, and so back to his home
in New York for the winter's schooling. The third year, still in Hugh's
company, he had gone up the Missouri River; and starting southwest from
Fort Benton, had gone through the Yellowstone Park and back to the
ranch, having a great deal of shooting and fishing and not a little of
adventure.
In this out-door life, in knocking about with Hugh Johnson and with
other people who had been brought up to take care of themselves, Jack
had learned many lessons of the plains and the mountains. He had picked
up a great store of the lore of the prairies, could find his way about,
even though there might be neither road nor landmarks to guide him;
and, under Hugh's tuition, had become a good prairie man. He had also
become very fond of the West; and when his uncle suggested that he
should go with him to British Columbia, he was delighted at the thought
of the trip. Being a boy of good sense, he said nothing when the
suggestion was made, but watched the faces of his father and mother, to
see how they felt about it.
"British Columbia seems a long way off, doesn't it, George?" said Mr.
Danvers to his brother-in-law.
"Yes," said Jack's mother, "it seems a terribly long way off. I have
been badly enough frightened these last three years, when Jack went
out into a country full of cowboys and Indians and wild animals; and
I always let him go with the feeling that I shall never see him again.
Certainly the plains are far enough away for him. British Columbia must
be more than twice as far, and I don't feel as if I could think of
that."
"You and Mary have hit it exactly," said Mr. Sturgis. "You both say it
seems a long way off, but in practice it is no further off than where
Jack has been before, and, indeed, it is not nearly so far. British
Columbia is at least within reach of the rest of the world by steam
communication and also by telegraph. You can learn in a very short
time what is happening in British Columbia, but when Jack was out
on the plains, between my ranch and Fort Benton, he was practically
as far off as he would have been in Central Africa. The distance of
British Columbia is all in imagination. The country is one that we hear
very little of, and for that reason we think it far away, but it is
not so. Now, I would like to have Jack go with me. I don't mean that
I want to take him up into the mountains to have him spend his days
loafing around a mine while I am working; but I thought--if you feel
like letting him go with me--we would have Hugh Johnson join us at the
railroad, all go on together to British Columbia, and let Hugh and Jack
take a hunt or a canoe trip along the coast, while I go back to my
mine in Washington Territory. I shall be there a month or six weeks,
and after I have done my work and they have made their trip, we could
meet and come across overland and home by the new railroad that's being
built north from the Union Pacific to the mining regions of Montana
Territory."
When Jack heard this fascinating plan he had to hold hard to his chair
to keep still; and he couldn't help drawing in his breath with a sort
of whistle, making a slight noise, so that his father looked at him
and laughed a little.
"You both know," continued Mr. Sturgis, "what these western trips
have done for Jack, and yet, really, I am not quite sure that you do
know; I am not quite sure that you remember what a wee little bit
of a white shrimp he was when he first went out to the ranch; how
he changed during that summer, and how, when we came back in the
autumn, you, Mary, hardly knew the boy. See how he has grown, squared
up--what a picture of health he is! You don't know--and perhaps I
don't either, altogether; except so far as I have been told by Hugh
Johnson, what a change has taken place in the boy's character. He has
developed mentally as much as he has physically. He has gained balance,
self-reliance; is sensible beyond his years in all matters that pertain
to the out-door life, and is already, in many essentials, a man and a
good companion, so far as his strength goes, in any situation where
hard work, judgment, coolness, and discretion are required. All this
means a great deal, more perhaps than any of us quite understand. If
the boy had never gone west, he might have had a greater share of book
learning, might have been further advanced toward entering college;
but also, he might have been dead, and certainly he would have been
very different in appearance from what he is now. You two had better
think over the question of this trip. It will mean for the boy another
summer spent out of doors, in surroundings that are wholly new to him.
The life will be one of hard work whether they make a canoe trip, or
a hunt; and it certainly will do them good. Then, of course, it will
give him a great deal of pleasure, will enlarge his ideas, and will be,
in all respects, helpful to him. Now, think it over, and when you are
ready we will talk it over again."
During the months of the winter, the subject had often been brought
up. Jack, when he was consulted, was, of course, eager to go, doubly
so after he had learned that his uncle proposed to take Hugh Johnson
along. At last his parents consented to his going.
In the spring Mr. Sturgis went west to the ranch, as was his custom,
and arrangements were made for Jack to come west over the Union Pacific
Railroad as soon as school had closed.
On the appointed day, the train bearing Jack drew up at the little
station nearest to Mr. Sturgis's ranch, and Jack's uncle and Hugh
Johnson stepped on board the train, while Jack waved an enthusiastic
greeting to Joe, who sat in the wagon that had brought them from the
ranch.
Then the three travellers sped on westward, plunging through the
Wasatch Mountains, and at length reached the Great Salt Lake Basin.
They stopped for a day at Salt Lake City, interesting for its beauty,
its surroundings of great mountains, and its wonderful lake. Jack had a
swim in Salt Lake, and though he had been warned about it, experienced
a curious sensation in swimming in its waters, it being impossible for
him to sink. He swam about, or stood upright with his whole head out of
the water, but found that diving was very difficult. Then, as he began
to dry off, after coming out of the water, it was curious to feel his
skin become rough with a crust of salt which had to be washed off with
fresh water before he could dress.
As they were going back to the city on the railroad Jack said to his
uncle: "I wish you would tell me, Uncle George, why this lake is so
salt. Of course I have heard you say that it has no outlet and that the
rivers which flow into it are constantly bringing down a little salt in
solution, which, in the course of many ages has become concentrated in
the lake; but is that the whole story? It doesn't seem to me enough to
account for it all."
"It isn't, Jack; you are quite right about that. The Salt Lake Basin,
of which the Great Salt Lake now occupies but a comparatively small
portion, is simply the bed of another far older and grander sheet of
water that was once here, which the geologists called Lake Bonneville.
If you take the trouble to look along the mountains while we are
here you can see, at various levels, the terraces which indicate the
height, on the mountains, of the waters of that inland sea at different
periods. You will see, and in fact you can see from here," and he
pointed toward the mountains, "these terraces running straight along
the mountain sides, hundreds of feet above the level of the plain.
Now, Lake Bonneville was far larger than any body of water that now
exists on this continent. Its outlet was to the northwest, in Idaho,
toward Snake River; and it extended southward for several hundred
miles. At last a time came, when, by the elevation of the land, this
outlet was cut off, and we had a body of water without any outlet.
Gradually evaporation, working for centuries, dried up this lake, and
now all that remains of it is the Salt Lake, in which we have just been
swimming. In that water is concentrated much of all of the salt and
soda that was in the greater lake, as well as much of that brought down
by the streams during the ages that have passed since the old outlet
closed up. Even Salt Lake is believed to be steadily growing smaller,
drying up, and the flats around its border are now so full of salt and
of alkali of one kind and another that they are wholly infertile and
cannot be farmed.
"The Mormons have made out of the valley of the lake, however, a
perfect garden spot. Once it was a sage desert, as barren as anything
that you have ever been over, more so perhaps. Now you can see for
yourself what grows here,--wheat, rye, barley, oats, green stretches of
graceful corn, great patches of potatoes, orchards and hay fields; and
to me it seems more like one of the farming States east of the Missouri
than it does like a sage desert."
"Well, that is mighty interesting, Uncle George, and I am glad to hear
it. I sometimes think that I would like mighty well to study geology.
It seems as if the history of the earth we're living on ought to be as
interesting a subject as one could take up."
From Salt Lake the travellers hurried west, and before very long found
themselves at San Francisco. From there a steamer took them north along
the rough and dangerous coasts of California, Oregon, and Washington
to the Strait of Fuca and Puget Sound, where Mr. Sturgis left them;
and finally to Victoria. Before the three parted, it had been decided
that Jack and Hugh should get a canoe and some Indians and make a trip
through the Gulf of Georgia; and returning, should meet Mr. Sturgis in
Tacoma, Washington, whence they would return to the East.
It was almost sundown, when the steamer which bore Jack and Hugh
approached the wharf at New Westminster. After they had entered the
mouth of the Fraser River the ride had still been very interesting, for
on either side of the steamer appeared at intervals great barn-like
wooden buildings, which some of the passengers on board explained were
salmon canning factories. Loitering about these were a few Chinamen,
apparently attached to the factories; but not many people were about,
for as yet the salmon had not begun to run.
As the boat drew up to the wharf, a good many people from the town
sat, awaiting its landing. Among these, Hugh and Jack noticed a
tall, well-built man, who seemed to keep his eyes constantly fixed
on them. At last he bowed, and waved his hand, to which salutation
they responded. They wondered who it could be, for they did not know
that Mr. MacTavish had telegraphed to Mr. James to look out for the
travellers on this boat. As soon as the gangplank was run out, Mr.
James boarded the vessel, and coming up to them introduced himself. He
took them to the hotel; and, seeing that they had comfortable rooms,
left them there, saying that he would come back a little later and take
them up to spend the evening at his house.
Two or three hours later the three were climbing the road, on their
way to Mr. James's house which was situated among the stumps of the
ancient forest, which still stood in the suburbs of the town. Here they
spent a delightful evening, and before they parted for the night it was
arranged that the next morning Mr. Hughes should take Jack out for a
little hunt, and try and show him one of the deer of the country.
"We don't hunt here," said Mr. James, "as you do back in the States,
because we cannot. If it were practicable, I should prefer, as I should
think most people would, to go out and take up a deer's track, follow
him until I got within range and then, if I could, kill him; but that
is impossible in the forests we have here. The trees grow over three
hundred feet in height; there is much fallen timber in the woods, and
the logs are from four to ten feet thick. Besides that, the great
precipitation produces such a heavy undergrowth that it is impossible
to go through it noiselessly. Therefore, if we want deer we are obliged
here, to run the game into the water with dogs, and kill them there.
It is not a sport that I greatly esteem, but at least we can kill an
occasional deer when we want venison."
"I should like very much to see it done once, Mr. James," said Jack,
"as most of my hunting has been done in running buffalo, or finding my
game and crawling up to it; and I have been taught that was the most
sportsmanlike way to do it. Yet, at the same time, it is easy to see
that it cannot be done in a country such as you describe."
"Well," said Hugh, "I guess I'll let you two go and do your hunting
to-morrow morning alone. I don't think that it's worth while for me to
go and see a deer shot over in the water. Maybe I'll get up and walk
out there with you, though. I'd like to stretch my legs after having
been in that boat for so many days."
Before they parted, then, it was agreed that Hugh and Jack should
present themselves at Mr. James's house next morning as near to four
o'clock as possible, when they would start to hunt for a deer near
Mirror Lake.
CHAPTER III
A MYSTERIOUS WATER MONSTER
It was still black night when Hugh and Jack arrived at Mr. James's,
about four o'clock the next morning. He was waiting for them, and,
seated on the floor near the stove in the dining-room where he had
been eating his breakfast, was an Indian, whom he introduced as
Squawitch--"The Sturgeon," as Mr. James explained.
By the time they had left the house the eastern sky had begun to
pale, and day was at hand. It promised to be a perfect one. The sky
was cloudless and no fog obscured the view. In the east, above the
jagged and broken summits of the Pitt River Mountains, the stars were
disappearing. The sky was beginning to grow gray and then to flush and
glow, each instant becoming brighter. They walked at a brisk pace, at
first climbing the hill and then passing along the level lands of the
plateau. The three white men walked side by side in advance, and behind
them came the Indian, leading three splendid hounds, which from time to
time tugged at their chains or whimpered as some scent from the forest
met their nostrils. The air was cool, fresh, and exhilarating. A gentle
breeze just moved the branches of the great trees, which were far
larger than any Hugh or Jack had ever seen.
From the recesses of the tangled forests came the sweet balsamic odors
of firs and cedars, mingled with the faint damp smell of decaying
vegetation, so characteristic of the forest in all climates. To Jack
and Hugh all the trees and all the plants were new. They wondered at
the vast size and height of the tree trunks, admired the maples with
their large leaves, the thick tangle of underbrush, and beneath all
the great ferns, higher than a man's head. They were passing between
high walls of foliage, extending far above them on either side. Above
was a narrow strip of blue sky and before them the yellow road.
Multitudes of bright bits of color appeared along the roadside. The
fireweed, familiar everywhere in the mountains, shone like a tongue of
flame against a background of green. Here and there, in wet springy
places, the foxglove nodded its tall spikes of red or white blooms;
and besides this there were many other flowers, all beautiful, but
not known by name to the travellers. One beautiful white low-growing
flower attracted Jack's attention, and he dropped on his knees to
examine it, declaring that it must be some sort of dogwood, so closely
did it resemble--except in size--the ordinary white flowering dogwood
of the Eastern States. There were also berries of many colors, and in
great abundance. Many of these Mr. James named for them as they passed
along; salmon berries, red or yellow, blackberries, green and red, and
blueberries of several kinds; the purple salal, the velvet berry, the
scarlet and as yet unripe panicles of the elder, and the brilliant
fruit of the umbrella plant were all there, and were constantly
inviting them to stop and admire their beauties.
To Mr. James, who had lived in the country for many years, these sights
were commonplace. To Hugh and Jack they were all remarkable and each
one seemed to demand an explanation. But there was no time for that.
Mr. James and the Indian had set their hearts on getting a deer, and it
was necessary to step briskly to reach the hunting grounds before the
sun had dried off the moisture and "killed" the scent. They walked so
fast that there was little opportunity for conversation. Nevertheless,
Jack found time to ask some questions.
"I can see, Mr. James," Jack said, "by looking into this timber, how
impossible it would be to hunt here in the way in which we do in the
Eastern States or on the plains. In the first place, the underbrush is
so thick that one could not see any distance; and, in the second place,
it would be impossible to go along without making so much noise that
the deer would hear one."
"That's precisely the fact," said Mr. James, "and therefore, as I
told you last night, the only way in which we can get deer here is by
putting dogs on the track. There are many places on the islands of the
Gulf, where the country is open enough so that one can hunt on foot
quietly, as we used to do where I lived back in Canada, with a good
prospect of getting an occasional shot, but that cannot be done here.
Then, too, there are plenty of places along the coast where the deer
come down from the mountains to feed on the grass near the edge of the
salt water, or to eat the dulse,--a sort of seaweed thrown up by the
sea,--and where they can be shot from a canoe. The Indians kill a great
many in this way; but, except in winter, when they are driven down from
the mountains by the heavy snows, that is not a method that is very
certain."
"If we make a canoe trip along the coast, as we were talking of doing,
there might be a chance of getting deer along the shore, then?" queried
Jack.
"Yes, you are very likely to do that," said Mr. James, "and quite
likely, also, to see a bear in such a situation; for the bears often
come down to the shore there, to feed on the seaweed, or to go along
the beach hunting for fish or food of any kind that may have been
thrown up by the sea. Almost all the animals in this country, certainly
all carnivorous animals, depend more or less on the beach for their
living; and often in the morning, if you go along the shore, you will
see the tracks of bears, foxes, wolves, deer, and perhaps two or three
other species of animals that have gone along during the night. The
beach is a pretty good hunting ground; and if you make your proposed
trip you will find, all along, trails leading down from the hills to
the water."
For some little time Hugh had been walking behind the others, by the
side of the Indian, and trying to talk to him in sign language; but,
though occasionally the Indian seemed to comprehend his gestures, it
was evident that he was not a sign talker. Presently Hugh spoke to Mr.
James, and said: "I like these dogs you have here, Mr. James; they
remind me of the hounds we used to run foxes down in Kentucky when I
was a boy. Two of them are as handsome hounds as I ever saw; and the
other one, while not so good a hound, looks as if he were smart enough
to keep up his end of the running all the time."
"You have hit it exactly, Mr. Johnson," said their owner. "Each of
these dogs has its good points. Captain and Dinah are pretty nearly
perfect to look at. Captain has the best nose of any hound I ever
saw, and a voice like a trumpet. Dinah's nose is not quite so good as
Captain's, but she is considerably faster. Wallace, as you say, does
not look much like a hound, but he is fast and the very best fighter in
the lot, and he is smart enough to know a good part of the time which
way the deer is going, and to cut in ahead of the others and take the
trail; and often he catches the deer alone. He is a great fighter; and
if he once gets hold of a deer, he will surely kill it. I had the dogs
out on one of the inlets last year, and was in a canoe on the water,
myself, and I saw Wallace overtake a deer, running along a narrow ledge
on the face of the cliff, sixty feet above the water. Wallace caught up
with the deer, grabbed him and threw him off the cliff. He didn't let
go, and the two fell into the water below. I have always thought that
Wallace would have been killed if I had not been there in the canoe to
come up and kill the deer."
"Well," said Hugh, "I suppose it's because I used to see so much of
them when I was a youngster, but there's no sort of dog I like so well
as a hound. The long muzzle, and those great long flapping ears and sad
eyes always go right to my heart. If I ever have a place of my own and
can afford it, I will surely have two or three good hounds; not to hunt
with, but just for company."
"Yes," said Mr. James, "they are mighty nice dogs, hounds are; but for
myself, I like any kind of a dog. Just at present I have none except
these three. But I want to get a good bird dog; and I can tell you that
is something hard to get in this country."
By this time the sun was up and the brisk walk was making all hands
wipe the perspiration from their brows. Presently they came to a little
trail off to the left of the road, and here they paused; while Mr.
James said a few words in the Chinook jargon to the Indian, who, with
the dogs, disappeared in the forest.
"Now," said Mr. James, "we are only a little way from the lake, and I
have sent the Indian off to start the dogs. We may as well walk down to
where the canoe is and wait for him there."
"Well, son," said Hugh, "you go on with Mr. James and kill that deer
if you can. I reckon I'll walk on a little farther along this road,
and look at these trees and flowers; and then I'll turn around and go
back to the town. I don't care much about looking on while you folks
kill that deer. I'd rather look at this timber, and smell the scents
that come out of it, and see these posies that seem to be growing
everywhere. If you don't strike me on the road on your way back, why,
I'll be at the hotel when you get there."
"Do just what you wish, Mr. Johnson," said Mr. James; "but I'd like to
have you come, if you feel like it. There's plenty of room for three
in the canoe, and we can leave the Indian on shore, and do our own
paddling."
"No," said Hugh, "I guess I'll have more fun looking at all these
strange things around me than I would have if I went in the canoe. Jack
will be safe with you, and we'll meet again later in the day."
"Yes," said Mr. James, "of course we will. I want to have you come up
and take dinner with me at noon; and then in the afternoon we will go
over to Burrard Inlet and see Fannin. You will like him. He is one of
the finest fellows in the world, and it will be a great thing for you
if you can get him to go with you on your trip."
"Oh! I hope we can!" cried Jack; while Hugh said: "I hope so too." Then
they parted, and Mr. James and Jack plunged into the forest while Hugh
walked briskly off along the road. A few minutes' walk brought them to
the border of a beautiful little lake in the woods, surrounded on all
sides by the high forest. On its shores they sat down; and while Mr.
James lit his pipe he talked and told Jack something about this sheet
of water.
"We call it Mirror Lake," said he, "and on a morning like this you
can easily see how well the name fits it, for everything is reflected
in the smooth water. It is always a good place to get a deer, for
scarcely anybody hunts here. The Indians never by any chance go on
it. They think that down under the water there lives what they call
a selallicum--that means a supernatural monster. Just what sort of a
creature this is the Indians do not seem to know; but it is some kind
of an evil spirit that lives at the bottom of the lake; and when
anybody goes out on the water in a canoe this monster rises to the
surface, upsets the canoe, and swallows the people that are in it. The
belief in this monster is held by all the Indians. They won't go out on
the lake. They won't even go near its margin when they are gathering
berries. They think that I am a fool for daring to go out on it; and
they say that some day the monster will rise and surely get me."
Pausing a moment, the speaker continued:
"One time, when I was hunting on the lake I was careless in the canoe
and upset, and my gun sank to the bottom, and, of course, I never got
it again. The Indians hearing of this told me that the selallicum had
given me a warning not to come on the lake again, and that I had better
respect this warning. There is only one Indian in the whole country
who will go out on the lake, and that is Squawitch here. He is an old
friend of mine, and has lots of confidence in me. But even he will
never enter a canoe except in my company. I don't know just how he
reasons about the matter; whether he thinks that I have some strong
medicine which enables me to defy this monster or not; but he has been
hunting here with me many times and is always ready to go again. This
morning, though, he told me that an Indian had seen the selallicum on
the lake within two or three weeks."
Mr. James paused to refill his pipe, and as they sat there for a moment
silent, suddenly the faint cry of the hounds was heard in the distance,
and Mr. James said: "There! hear that? That's Captain. Listen!"
Presently the shriller cry of Dinah made itself heard, and as they sat
listening to the cry of the hounds, which gradually grew more and more
faint, Squawitch parted the bushes near them, and, walking along a log
toward the water, drew from the low brush a canoe and two paddles. He
stepped into the canoe, pushed it ashore, and signing Mr. James and
Jack to step in, took his seat in the stern. Mr. James took the bow
paddle and Jack seated himself amidship. Then, with a stroke or two of
the paddles, the canoe shot out of the little cove on to the unruffled
surface of Mirror Lake.
Certainly it well deserved its name! Only a few hundred yards in width
and less than a mile long, it was surrounded on all sides by a superb
forest of gigantic firs. Along its margin grew a narrow border of grass
or low willows, separating the border from the dark forest; and beyond
that border a fringe of lily pads floated motionless on the surface of
the water. The little strip of grass, the tall green trees, and the
blue sky above were so perfectly reflected in the clear water that Jack
could hardly tell where the reflection ended and the vegetation began.
Shut in on all sides by the vast untouched forests, the lake lay there
like a great eye that gazed steadfastly and unwinkingly at the sky
which it mirrored. The light breeze had fallen as the sun rose, and
there was now not the slightest motion on the water. The stillness was
unbroken for a time, and they sat listening for the cry of the hounds.
The different inhabitants of the lake and forest, plying their usual
vocations, soon began to reveal to the boy from the East glimpses of
their life history.
An old mother golden-eyed duck led her brood of half a dozen from among
some low willows and began to teach them how to procure their food;
calling to them now and then in low lisping tones, to which the little
ones responded with soft peeping cries. At one side of the lake a
little pine squirrel was gathering his winter store of green fir cones,
which he cut from the tree and dropped to the ground with a great deal
of noise. So great in fact was the noise, that when it first began
Jack was sorely tempted to ask Mr. James what it was; but by listening
he made out the cause for himself, and so was glad that he had not
inquired.
Suddenly over the tops of the bordering trees a pair of superb
white-headed eagles flew silently across the lake, the hindermost
seeming to strive to overtake the one in advance. But when this
happened the foremost bird, without closing his wings, swung over on
his back, thrust out his talons threateningly toward his pursuer, and
then turned over again, flew onward and out of sight. A little later
two loons settled in the water not far from the canoe and began to call
on each other with loud mournful cries. It was useless now to listen
for the hounds, for the loons made so much noise that nothing else
could be heard; but at length they took wing and disappeared.
Now that silence had again fallen over the lake, the cry of hounds
could be heard once more, though far off and very faint. At length the
sound came nearer and nearer, passing the west end of the lake, and
again grew fainter and at last was lost.
Mr. James had just said with an air of disappointment that he feared
the deer had taken water in Burnaby Lake, when Jack heard the Indian
speak in suppressed but very emphatic tones to his companion. Following
the direction of their eyes, Jack saw something slowly moving through
the water at the other end of the lake. What it was he could not tell.
Certainly it did not look like anything that he had ever seen before.
As much as anything, however, it resembled a wooden box two or three
feet square, floating on the surface of the water; but, of course, a
box would not be found in such a situation, and would not move. Jack
took it for granted that it was a deer, because he could not think of
any other living thing likely to be in that place at that time. There
was one man in the canoe, however, who evidently did not think that it
was a deer, and was very much excited about it. That was the Indian.
CHAPTER IV
THE COBBLER NATURALIST OF BURRARD INLET
As soon as the moving object appeared Mr. James had dipped his paddle
into the water and given a hasty stroke. The Indian did not move, but
in a low voice said to Mr. James in the Chinook jargon: "What is that
there in the water?"
"The deer," said Mr. James; "paddle!"
"No," said Squawitch, "it is not the deer, it is the monster. Yes, it
is a true monster. We must go to the shore at once, or we shall all
be killed." And he dipped his paddle into the water as if to turn the
canoe to the shore.
"Keep still," said Mr. James. "I tell you it is the deer." And then,
the moving object having by this time turned well out into the lake,
he added: "_Mam-mook_" (pull). Giving a powerful stroke with his
paddle, the canoe shot forward toward the mysterious thing. Jack was
listening to what was said, but did not understand the spoken words.
He could see, however, that there was a difference of opinion between
his companions as to what should be done. He thought he noticed, too,
that the first few strokes given by the Indian were weak and did little
to force the canoe forward; but if they were not strong they were at
least noiseless. Meantime, with all his eyes, Jack was watching the
mysterious object; and as the canoe advanced toward it the mystery
explained itself in a very simple way, and the Indian's fears were
calmed. They could soon make out a fine buck swimming slowly through
the water, and could see that about his horns were twined some long
sprays of fern, which overshadowed his head, and, falling down behind
the horns, trailed through the water. The reflection cast by this mass
of green, and the ripple of the water behind and on each side of the
swimming animal, made the object vague and indefinite, and the whole
was further blurred by the reflection of the trees near the margin of
the lake. So, until they had come close to it, it was hard to tell
what it was, and its mysterious appearance was, naturally enough, very
alarming to one who was prepared to see something supernatural. The
Indian believed thoroughly in the existence of the selallicum in this
lake, and, seeing in the water something unlike anything that he had
ever beheld before, at once concluded that the monster had appeared.
The slender canoe flew swiftly over the water and rapidly drew near
the deer, which had not yet seen them, but was swimming quietly along,
no doubt tired by its long run. Jack, not burdened with a paddle, and
having nothing to do but hold his rifle, studied the creature as they
drew near, and saw that it bore a fine pair of horns, still in the
velvet.
The canoe was within twenty yards of the deer before the animal saw
them. When he did so, he at once turned toward the shore, and swam
rapidly--almost as fast as the canoe went. Just before he reached the
land, Mr. James said to Jack: "Now be ready, and kill him as he leaves
the water."
Jack rose carefully to his knees, put a cartridge in his rifle and, as
the deer bounded up the bank, fired. The shot broke the deer's neck,
and it fell on the bank just at the edge of the water.
When he saw it fall Jack felt sorry that he had shot. Though there was
sweet music in the bay of the hounds as they ran, interest in watching
for the deer, hope as the cry of the dogs grew louder, anxiety lest
the quarry had turned aside and gone away as the baying grew fainter,
and some excitement in paddling after the animal, yet he did not like
this method of hunting. After the deer had taken to the water and the
boat had approached it, it seemed as if the animal had no chance, and
Jack lost pleasure in the shot, because he had too much time to think
about it. The struggle that the deer made to reach the shore excited
his sympathies, and now he regretted the shot that he had fired. On the
other hand, it was easy to see, as Mr. James had pointed out, that in
such a land as this still-hunting was impossible.
The deer having been secured, the task of transporting it to town was
left to the Indian, who would drag or carry it out to the road and wait
there for the stage which would come in during the morning.
Mr. James and Jack started on foot for New Westminster, and when they
had nearly reached there they overtook Hugh, who had had his walk and
was now going back to breakfast. But little was said as to the killing
of the deer, beyond the fact that one had been secured; and just
before they reached Mr. James's house the latter said to them: "Now,
gentlemen, if you feel like it, let us take the stage this afternoon
and go over to Burrard Inlet, where you can make Fannin's acquaintance
and see what you can do with him. I am anxious to have you meet him,
for he is one of the salt of the earth. No man in the Province knows
so much about its birds and mammals as he, and no man can show you and
tell you so many interesting things about them. He is an untrained
naturalist, but a most keen observer. Then, too, he is a great hunter,
and one of the finest shots in the Province. I will not say that he
never misses, but he misses very seldom. Now, can you be ready to start
on the stage at two o'clock? It will pick us up at my house after
dinner; and it might be well for you to leave word at the hotel that we
want three seats this afternoon. It's not likely that the stage will
be crowded, but it's no trouble to order the seats in advance. We will
go over to the inlet and spend twenty-four hours there, and you will,
no doubt, see a good many interesting things, and can then make up your
minds about your plans for the future." Before there was time given to
reply, Mr. James asked: "Have either of you ever seen white goats?"
"Hugh has, Mr. James," replied Jack, "but I never have. I have been in
the mountains quite near them, but I have never seen one, much less had
a shot."
"Well," said Mr. James, "there are plenty in the mountains of Burrard
Inlet, and if all goes well you may see some before you are a week
older. You will find hunting the goats very different from paddling up
to a deer in the water and killing him just as he climbs the bank to
get to shore."
Hugh and Jack now left Mr. James, agreeing to be at his house about
noon for dinner. They had only made a few steps after saying good-bye
when Jack turned around and ran back to ask Mr. James what they should
take with them to Burrard Inlet: would they need their blankets? "No,"
said Mr. James, "if you stop at the little settlement of Hastings where
Fannin lives you will not need anything except your guns, as there is
quite a good plain hotel there; but if you should go off to camp in the
mountains, of course it would be well to have your beds with you. I
think perhaps I would leave word to have them strapped on to the stage
when it starts, and then you will be safe whatever happens."
Hugh and Jack hurried back to town, but were too late to get any
breakfast at the hotel. However, they got a bite at a restaurant,
and then walked about the streets to see whatever sights there were
until it was time to go to Mr. James's home. They ordered the seats
in the stage, and saw that their beds and bags were put aboard. Then
down at the water's edge they looked at the wharves and at the salmon
canneries, and thus whiled away the morning.
Shortly before midday they returned to Mr. James's house, where they
had a delightful dinner, and a little while afterward took the stage.
To pass swiftly along over the level yellow road that they had
traversed on foot in the morning was very delightful. The drive was
not a long one, only nine miles, and the stage drew in to Hastings in
the middle of the afternoon. Here Mr. Fannin was found in the little
cobbler-shop, where he spent his bachelor existence, surrounded by old
shoes and new, rolls of leather, the tools of his trade, bear and wolf
skins, stuffed birds, and a multitude of natural history specimens.
Jack thought it one of the most interesting places that he had ever
been in. Mr. Fannin was kindness itself, and was much interested in
the talk of the proposed canoe trip. But before that had been long
discussed, Jack was asking questions about the skins of many birds that
he had never before seen, but about most of which he had read and knew
of by pictures. There were specimens of the beautiful little harlequin
duck, whose varied plumage gives it its name; of the black oyster
catcher; of several species of gulls; of guillemots; of a number of
shore birds, which were new to him, and many birds' eggs which he had
never seen before.
Mr. Fannin was a great talker and a man with a keen sense of humor. If
in any incident there was anything funny, his fancy was likely to seize
upon it.
As the four sat on the grass on the high bank overlooking the inlet,
Mr. Fannin pointed across the water to some low unpainted houses
standing among the timber and said: "There is an Indian village over
there, and I must send somebody over to get Seammux to come across
to-morrow morning to go with us to the head of the North Arm. I want
to have you see the country up there, and it is possible that from the
river you may be able to see some white goats on top of the hills. If
you have never seen these animals you will see them now, for you will
never have a better chance."
As they sat there Jack saw, not far off and up the Arm, a fish-hawk
dropping through the air to seize a fish. He touched Mr. Fannin and
pointed. They both watched the beautiful bird until it struck the water
with a splash that sent the spray high in the air about it.
"Now watch," said Mr. Fannin, "and you may see an eagle rob that
osprey. That's a common sight here; it is always a beautiful one; but
perhaps you have seen it in other places?"
"No," said Jack, "I never have, although I have read about it often. By
Jove," he added, "there is the eagle now!" and they saw a white-headed
eagle flying low and swiftly up the inlet. The osprey had already risen
to a considerable height with his fish, and had started to fly off with
it over the woods. But as soon as he caught sight of the eagle he began
to rise in spiral flight higher and higher, while the eagle followed
him in wider circles. Soon it was seen that the eagle was rapidly
gaining upon the fish-hawk, and at last had risen above it and had made
one or two darts at it. The fish-hawk seemed to avoid these attacks
easily, but perhaps they made it nervous, and presently it dropped its
prey. Shining like a bar of silver, the fish fell, and was carried off
by the wind diagonally to one side in a long slant. But as soon as it
fell the eagle half closed its wings, fell after it, overtook it before
it had fallen half way to the water, grasped the fish in its own great
talons, and, spreading its wings, bore the prey off to a tall tree on
the mountain side.
"That was a wonderful sight," said Jack. "I would not have missed it
for anything. I feel as if I should remember that for a very long time."
"Yes," said Mr. Fannin, "I believe you will; it is something worth
remembering."
"So it is," said Hugh; "it's one of the finest sights I ever saw. Who
would have thought that that eagle could drop as fast as the fish
did, that he could direct himself so as to catch his prey, and that,
after falling like that, he could stop. There's a whole lot of mighty
wonderful things to be seen out here. It beats my time altogether."
"Is there any chance of our getting a shot at anything to-morrow
morning, when we go up the North Arm, Mr. Fannin?" asked Jack.
"Of course I can't tell about that," said he, "but I should certainly
take my gun along, if I were you. I always take mine whenever I go out.
On the islands up there in the inlet there are plenty of deer; and it's
possible that you might get a shot at a deer any time, while there's a
bare chance that a goat might come down to the valley and you might get
a shot at him. Have you shot much with the rifle?"
"Well," said Jack, "I have shot a little. I have killed the prairie
game back on the plains, and a few mountain sheep; and I have run
buffalo and killed two or three bears."
"Then you've had quite a little experience, and I suppose you're a
pretty good shot."
"No," said Jack, "I don't think I am much of a shot, but I am pretty
patient about waiting around and trying to get the shot I want."
"Ha!" said Mr. Fannin, "that sounds as if you had learned to hunt with
the Indians, or at all events with some good hunter."
"Well," said Jack, "I have hunted some with Indians; but the man who
taught me whatever I know about hunting is sitting with us now--and
that is Hugh."
"Well," said Hugh, "you took to it mighty natural, son. There are lots
of people that have had a heap more experience than you have and can't
come near you for a hunter."
"Well," said Fannin, "I crossed the plains from Canada in 1861, and
of course I did some hunting on the way; but ever since that time
I've lived here in the Province, where there's plenty of rough, thick
timber, and where much of the hunting is done at short range. There's
a great deal of game here, though not of many sorts,--mostly deer and
bear, and, high up in the mountains, goats. Farther inland there are
sheep, and still beyond that, elk; and then there are elk on Vancouver
Island, but I have never seen any of them.
"The bears are plenty, and they make themselves very much at home. It's
only a few days since that one of them came out of the woods just back
of the hotel and went to the hog-pen and took a pig and walked off with
it into the forest. The bear got his pig and nobody ever got him.
"A year or two ago something of that kind happened, and with it one
of the funniest things I ever saw. A bear came out and took a pig and
went off with it, and an Irishman, working on the place, saw it go. He
picked up an axe and ran down to call me. I grabbed my rifle and we
both started running into the timber where the bear had disappeared. We
could still hear the squealing of the pig. We hadn't got far into the
woods before we came upon an immense tree-trunk lying on the ground,
which we had to climb over. It was six or eight feet high, and the
Irishman got there a little bit ahead of me. Having nothing to carry
but his axe, he climbed over first and jumped down on the other side. I
was slower in getting up, and when I got on top of the trunk and was
just about to jump down, I saw in front of me and walking toward me on
its hind legs a big bear. The Irishman was standing under me, backed
up against the tree trunk, his hands at his sides and his axe lying
at his feet, while the bear was stepping up to him as if he wanted to
shake hands. The Irishman was too frightened to yell or do anything.
He just backed up against the tree hard. Of course I saw all this at a
glance, and I began to laugh so that I could hardly get my gun to my
shoulder. But, by the time that the bear was within five or six steps
of the Irishman, I realized that something had to be done; and I fired
and killed the bear.
"It took that Irishman about an hour to recover from his scare, and it
seemed to me that he didn't get his color back for three or four days."
After a little while the party went into the hotel and had their supper
and then returned to Fannin's shop. Here, before it grew dark, they saw
approaching a tall, oldish, stoop-shouldered man, who walked with a
slight halt in his gait. Said Fannin: "Oh! here comes old Meigs. I am
glad you are going to meet him. He is an American, an old prospector,
who has spent all of his life mining down in Arizona. He got a slight
stroke of paralysis three or four years ago. He came up here and is
living in a little cabin just below. He is a good fellow and has
seen a great deal of western life." As Meigs joined the group Fannin
introduced the strangers, and they were soon all talking together.
"I am glad Meigs came," said Fannin, "because he reminds me of
something that happened last year that I want to tell you about. Two
years ago a man who lived about here thought that he would raise some
sheep. He didn't have money enough to get many, but he got half a
dozen ewes and a ram, and turned them out to pick up their living
along the shore and in the timber. They did very well for a while. But
presently, when the man started to look them up, he found that there
was one missing, and then another, and then the old ram disappeared.
We never knew just what got them, but we suspected bears and wolves;
and one day, going through the timber, I found the skeleton of a sheep,
and another day the skeleton of another. About a year ago I took my
rifle and went out for a little walk in the timber. I went a mile or
two and didn't see anything, and then came back nearly to the road
here. I climbed up on a stump and sat there for a while, listening to
the birds and watching them. Presently, in a trail that passed close
to that stump, I saw the three sheep going along towards the road. I
paid no particular attention to them, but after they had passed I got
down from the stump, walked out to the trail, and started for the road
myself. I could see the sheep not very far ahead of me, and, as they
were feeding along and I was walking briskly, I got pretty close to
them before they reached the road. They had almost got to it, and I was
not far behind them, when suddenly a bear charged out of the timber,
into the trail, and tried to grab one of the sheep. They rushed around
a little crook in the trail, and the bear after them, before I could
cock my rifle and put it to my shoulder. I started after them as hard
as I could go, thinking that if the bear followed the sheep into the
road I would surely get a good shot at him and would probably kill him.
I rushed out into the road, and almost into the arms of Meigs here,
who had been walking away from the inlet; but the sheep and the bear
had disappeared. I said to Meigs: 'Hello, Meigs! What are you doing
here?' He raised his hand to keep me from speaking, took a step or two
forward, shaded his eyes with his hand, and looked up the trail by
which I had just come out from the timber. I could not understand what
was the matter with him, and presently I said in a low voice: 'What is
the matter with you; what do you see?'
"'I am just trying to see' he answered, 'what in thunder is the next
thing that will come along that trail.'
"He had been taking a little walk along the road and got just opposite
the trail, you see, when suddenly the sheep rushed out, and then the
bear, and then I came--all going as hard as we could go. It must have
been a funny sight."
"It was," said Meigs, "and for a minute I thought I was crazy and
seeing things that did not exist."
"Tell them about the morning that the wolf chased you," said Fannin.
"Well," said Meigs, as he pushed down the tobacco in his pipe and
pulled on it two or three times, to get it going well, "that was quite
a scare for me. Of course I knew that the wolves were not dangerous
in the country I came from, but I didn't know about them here. Winter
before last a wolf came down to the inlet and stopped right near here.
We used to hear him howling often, and I always believed that he killed
that old ram that Fannin has been talking about. I set a trap for him
two or three times, but he would not go near it. One morning, just at
daylight, I heard him howling close above the cabin. I jumped out of
my blankets, grabbed my gun, and stepped out to see if I could get a
shot. I could not see him from the door, and I hurried up the trail,
about thirty steps from the door of the cabin, to where the trail made
a little bend. My rifle was an old-fashioned Spencer carbine. I don't
know whether any of you men ever saw one?" and he looked around the
circle inquiringly.
"Go ahead," said Hugh, "I know them. They miss fire half the time, and
the other half they are just as likely to shoot around the corner as
they are to shoot straight ahead."
"Yes," said Meigs, "you have used one, I guess."
"Well," he continued, "when I got to the bend in that trail and looked
around, there was the wolf a short hundred yards off, with his fore
feet on a log, and his head toward me, just beginning to howl. I
dropped down on one knee and drew a bead on his breast and pulled the
trigger. The cartridge exploded, and if you'll believe me, when the
smoke drifted away I could see that ball from that old Spencer carbine
corkscrewing toward the wolf as though it was never going to get there.
In the meantime the wolf had jumped from the log on which it was
standing and started toward me. I turned round and ran for the cabin.
When I was ten or fifteen feet from the door the string of my drawers
broke, and they fell down around my ankles and shackled me, so that I
couldn't run. I had to come down on my hands and knees and scramble the
rest of the way on all fours. When I got inside the cabin and slammed
the door and looked back through a crack, of course the wolf was out of
sight.
"Fannin thinks that this is a pretty good joke on me, and maybe it is."
When Hugh and Jack had finished laughing over Meigs's adventure, Jack
began to ask Fannin about the Indians that lived along the inlet.
"Like most of the Siwashes about here," said Fannin, "they are
fish-eating people; though, of course, they kill a good many deer and
some few white goats. Their main dependence, however, is the salmon,
of which, at the proper season of the year, they catch and dry great
numbers."
"I suppose," said Jack, "that they have lost a good many of their
primitive ways, have they not?"
"Yes," said Fannin, "they are changing rapidly, yet within a short
time I have seen them use the fire-sticks to kindle a fire. That does
not look as if they were changing rapidly, does it?"
"No," said Jack, "I should say not. I should think they would use
matches, or if not matches, at least flint and steel."
"So they do," said Fannin, "for many purposes, but for some others
they use the fire-sticks. And that reminds me," he continued, "of Dick
Griffin's joke about fire-sticks. He had been chopping logs at quite a
distance from camp, and one day had to leave his job to come down to
the main camp to get some grub. He started rather late, and when he had
got half way it came on to rain and blow and get dark. He landed and
spent the night in the timber, with nothing to eat, and with no fire,
for he had left his matches behind, or they got wet or something. It
was still raining when he got to the camp the next morning, and two
or three men were standing around the fire. Dick paddled in, took his
canoe out of the water, walked up to the fire, and after the men had
exchanged a few words with him, he said abruptly: 'Boys, have you ever
seen the Indians make a fire by rubbing two sticks together?' They all
said 'Yes.' 'Well,' said Dick, 'I would like to know how long it takes
them to do it. I know it can't be done in one night, for I spent all
last night in trying to make a fire in just that way.'"
The rest of the evening was spent in pleasant conversation, and many a
story was told. Before they parted for the night Fannin said that he
had arranged to have a little steamer take them up the inlet the next
morning to the mouth of the river flowing into the North Arm, from
which they would have a good view of the surrounding mountains.
CHAPTER V
AN UNEXPECTED BEAR
By eight o'clock the next morning the party had embarked on the tiny
steamer "Senator" on their way up Burrard Inlet. The little craft
carried them swiftly along past the Indian village on the north bank,
past wooded hills and low grassy points, past rough granite mountain
faces, where the few scattering trees found scarcely earth enough to
support them, and were forced to drive their roots deep down into
the crevices of the rocks, until, six miles above Hastings, the boat
turned sharply to the left and up the North Arm of the inlet. Here
the hills on either side were nearer together and appeared higher and
more rugged. Their summits were capped with snow, which, in many of
the gorges and ravines, extended far down toward the water's edge.
The steep rock faces were covered with a harsh brown moss, which,
except when wet, gave an excellent foothold to the climber. Where the
mountains were not too steep, and soil was not utterly wanting, there
was a dense forest of Douglas firs and cedars, some of the timber being
very large. The various shades of green of the different trees gave a
variety to the aspect of the forest, as a whole, which had almost the
effect of cloud shadows, and added greatly to the beauty of the scene.
Jack and Hugh did not weary in watching the constantly changing view.
Now and then the round head of a seal emerged from the quiet waters,
looked for a moment at the boat and then disappeared. Little groups of
water birds, disturbed in their fishing or their resting, rose on wing
and flew up or down the inlet. From the shores and mountains on either
side, birds, large and small, were constantly flying across the inlet;
and now and then a great fish sprang from the water, and fell back with
a splash which could be heard.
"I tell you, Hugh," said Jack, "we'll have things enough to talk about
if we ever get back to the ranch and tell the cow-punchers there what
we have seen on this trip."
"You're dead right, son; they never imagined anything like this any
more than I ever did; and what's more, we won't be able to tell it to
them so that they can understand what it is like. That's the worst of
going off and seeing things,--that when you go back you can't make
other people see as you saw, or have the same feelings that you had
when you took them in with your eyes."
"Yes," said Jack, "talk is a pretty poor thing compared with seeing
anything for yourself."
"Now, look at those waterfalls!" said Hugh. "Do you suppose it would be
possible to tell anybody about those things so that they could really
understand how they look?"
"No," said Jack, "I do not believe anybody could do that."
Down almost every slope within their view, and constantly changing
as the boat's position changed, poured beautiful cascades, some of
which deserved the title of waterfall. Though now they carried but
little water, their wide beds of naked rock showed that in the spring
and early summer, when the snows were melting, they must be mighty
torrents, sweeping everything before them with resistless power. Even
now they were very beautiful, and their delicate streams, stretching
like white threads far up the mountain sides, could scarcely be
distinguished in the distance from the lines of snow in the ravines;
though, with the glasses, the leaping, wavering motion of the water
could be discerned which distinguished the white hurrying flood from
the unmoving snowdrift.
They had passed up the Arm and were just rounding a little point and
beginning to get a view of some low grassy meadows running up from the
water's edge, when Hugh suddenly said to Jack: "Son, I believe that's a
bear in that grass"; and Jack, bringing his eyes down to the meadow's
level, saw a small black object moving about in the grass. Whatever it
was, it had not yet seen the steamer. Jack rushed into the cabin where
Fannin and Mr. James were talking to the Indian Seammux and, grasping
his rifle, said: "Mr. Fannin, I believe there is a bear out on the
shore." In a moment all were looking at the animal, and there was now
no doubt as to what it was. Fannin stepped around to the pilot house
and asked the captain to steer close to the shore, and also to see that
the boat made as little noise as possible. They rapidly crept up toward
the bear; but long before they had come within rifle-shot the animal
saw them, stood up, looked for a moment or two, and then, turning
about, bolted through the grass and disappeared in the forest.
"Well," said Jack to Mr. Fannin, "that beats anything yet. I believe if
anybody had been in a canoe and paddled along quietly, that bear would
never have noticed him, and he might have got within gunshot."
"Yes," said Mr. Fannin, "of course he might. That's just what I've told
you. It's quite possible that you will see something of that kind more
than once before you get back."
About twelve miles from where the North Arm leaves the main inlet,
the Arm ends in the narrow valley of the Salmon River. Here the boat
anchored, and here, after some little discussion, it was determined
that Jack, Mr. Fannin, and the Indian should take the latter's canoe
and go a short distance up the river to see whether a glimpse might not
be had of the goats that dwelt on the summit of the mountains on the
west side.
In the meantime Mr. James jointed his rod and set out to try to catch
some trout; while Hugh said that he would go with Mr. James and watch
the fishing.
The Indian's canoe was light, low, and slender, and when its three
occupants were seated it was low in the water. Mr. Fannin had with him
his rifle and his shot-gun; the rifle, perhaps, being carried out of
compliment to Jack, while the shot-gun was his constant companion, for
he never knew at what moment he might not see some strange bird.
They had gone but a short distance up the river when it became
necessary for Mr. Fannin and Jack to land and walk along the gravel
bars, for the water in the rapids was so shoal that the loaded canoe
could not ascend. When the swift water was reached, the Indian laid
down his paddle, took up his pole, and, standing in the stern of the
canoe, prepared to drive the craft up the stream against the turbulent
current. Quietly pushing it along until he had almost reached the
rushing water, he set his pole firmly against the bottom, and leaning
back against it, sent the light craft fifteen or twenty feet up the
stream, and then, before its way had ceased, recovered his pole and
again set it against the stones of the bottom. Standing as he did in
the stern, the nose of the canoe rose high above the water; and, as it
rushed forward, reminded Jack of the head of some sea monster, whose
lower jaw was buried beneath the surface. No matter how furiously the
water rushed, boiled, and bubbled on either side, the light craft held
perfectly straight, moved regularly forward until, when the rapids had
been passed, Fannin and Jack stepped aboard once more and the paddles
were resumed, only to be laid aside for the pole when another rapid was
reached.
Here Jack saw, and was delighted to see, some familiar friends of the
Rocky Mountains,--the little dippers or water ouzels. On every little
stretch of still water one or more would be started, flying from rock
to rock and bobbing comically at each point where they alighted. Many
of the birds were young ones, not long from the nest, and were quite
without fear, permitting a very close approach before they would fly.
A number of broods of harlequin ducks were startled, some of them
quite large and able to fly, while others seemed to be newly hatched.
Whatever their age, they seemed well able to take care of themselves,
and could always keep ahead of the canoe until at last they disappeared
from sight around some bend and were not seen again. Everywhere along
the stream grew the salmon berry bushes, laden with mature or ripening
fruit. The bushes, in their manner of growth and in their berries,
reminded Jack of the eastern blackberries, but the ripe fruit was
either red or yellow or black, all these colors growing on the same
bush.
As they passed on up the stream, the white men sometimes on the gravel
bar and again in the canoe, they saw no other animal life except the
ravens and eagles, which now and then flew over them, going up and
down the valley. At one point were tracks where a bear had crossed the
stream, and at another some old deer tracks.
At length, about two miles from the mouth of the river, on a long
gravel bar, where the river was wide and a good view could be had of
the summits of the mountains, they landed to try to see some white
goats. The guns, which had been lying in the canoe, were wet from the
water which had been shipped in the passage up the rapids, and Jack and
Mr. Fannin took them out to dry. Mr. Fannin held his down to drain
and then set them up against a pile of driftwood to dry. Jack wiped
the water from his rifle as well as he could, and walked along with it
in his hand. The three had gone about forty yards from the canoe when
Mr. Fannin and the Indian stopped and began carefully to look over the
hills above them. Jack looked too, but saw nothing and walked on toward
the upper end of the bar, where there was a huge drift-log, which he
mounted to get a wider view. As he did so he looked back at the others
and saw Seammux suddenly point across the river and speak eagerly to
his companion. At the same time Mr. Fannin turned toward Jack and
beckoned with his hand. Jack thought that possibly a deer had shown
itself in the brush and jumped from his perch on the log to run toward
the others. The stones under his feet seemed to make a tremendously
loud clatter as he ran; and, forgetting that the roar of the water
would drown any noise that he might make, he feared that the game,
whatever it might be, would hear him and run off into the brush.
He was still fifty yards from the other two when Fannin again turned
toward him and raised his hand with a warning gesture. Just as he did
so there walked out from behind a bush into Jack's view a good-sized
bear. As he started to run Jack had slipped a cartridge into his
rifle, and, as soon as the animal appeared, he dropped on one knee
and prepared to fire. The bear, however, was quite unconscious of the
presence of man, and Jack waited for a moment in the hope that the
animal would stand still; for, with two persons looking on, he was
anxious not to miss. The bear was about one hundred yards off, and
there would be no excuse for a failure. It was gathering berries, and
its attention was concentrated on that occupation. Where the fruit
hung low the bear reached up its head like a cow picking apples from
a tree, and, winding its long tongue about the stem, stripped the
berries and leaves from it. Again it would stand up on its hind legs
and, reaching the high branches with its forepaws, pull them down
within reach of its mouth. Two or three times Jack was on the point of
pulling the trigger, but he waited for a better opportunity, which came
at last. The bear dropped on all fours and for an instant stood still,
with head slightly raised, facing Jack, who fired at the white spot on
the beast's breast. Just as the trigger was pulled the bear began to
rear up for some berries; but, at the crack of the rifle, he whirled
about and lumbered off into the brush. A moment later Jack had run up
to Mr. Fannin and asked: "Did I hit him?" Neither could tell, and Mr.
Fannin sent Seammux to bring the canoe up to where they were standing,
so that they might cross over to look for the trail.
[Illustration: JACK FIRED AT THE WHITE SPOT ON THE BEAST'S
BREAST--_Page 59_]
In a few moments the canoe came up, and in a moment more they had
crossed over and reached the opposite bank. Mr. Fannin and Jack climbed
up the steep bank and ran to the point where the bear had disappeared,
while Seammux, taking time only to secure the canoe, followed. They had
not gone two yards into the bushes when Jack saw a broad leaf covered
with blood, and then thick drops--a plain trail running into the
timber. By this time Seammux was with them, and they pressed forward on
the trail. Once they overran it for a moment, but a low call from the
Indian told them that he had found it; and, as they overtook him, he
stopped with an exclamation, and pointed. There, a few yards away, lay
the bear curled up on his side, his paws over his nose. They looked for
a moment, but he did not move, and then, holding his gun in readiness,
Jack walked around behind and gave the back a sharp push. The animal
was quite dead, the ball having pierced the white spot and gone through
the vitals.
Though it looked much smaller dead than it had when living, and though
the distance to the river bank was short, it took some time to drag the
bear out to the river, and then to lower it into the canoe.
A little more time was devoted to studying the tops of the mountains
for goats; then, as the sun was getting low, they stepped into the
canoe, turned the vessel's prow down stream, and were soon hurrying
merrily along over the dancing waters toward the river's mouth.
Jack, to whom this method of journeying was new, found it very
exhilarating to fly down the rapids, dashing by the bank at almost
railroad speed, the Indian now and then giving a stroke of the paddle
to keep the canoe straight, or sometimes to alter her course when
a threatening rock appeared above the water. The rapids, that had
been surmounted with much difficulty on the way up the stream, now
disappeared behind them almost as soon as they were reached. It took
but a short time to gain the mouth of the river, and the canoe was soon
alongside the steamer.
There everything was ready for a start. The bear in the canoe gave
those on the steamer a surprise, and they were much gratified at the
success of the short excursion.
Just as the steamer was about to start, Seammux spoke and pointed
toward the top of one of the mountains on the north side of the Arm,
where two very minute white spots were seen on the mountain top. When
the glasses had been brought to bear and the specks had been watched
for some little time, it appeared quite certain that they were white
goats. Although they were so distant that no motion could be detected,
it soon became apparent that these white specks gradually changed their
positions, both with regard to each other and to surrounding objects.
The day was too far spent to allow any further investigation of them
to be made, but as the boat started on its way down the North Arm, Mr.
Fannin assured Jack that at last he had seen a couple of white goats.
"If you want to see these animals at home," said Mr. Fannin, "the best
thing we can do is to come back here and climb those mountains to where
they live, and then we can see them and very likely get one or two. You
are in no great hurry, I fancy, and you would not mind spending a day
or two in camping on the top of these hills. We'll think it over and
make up our minds about it to-night or to-morrow."
"Nothing would suit me better than just such a trip as you suggest, Mr.
Fannin, and we can talk it over and decide about it to-night, as you
say."
If it had been pleasant coming up the Arm and the inlet, it was not
less so on the way down. The bird life was as abundant as it had been
in the morning. Jack and Mr. Fannin went to the bow and watched the
creatures busy at their feeding.
"Tell me something about that black bird with the white shoulders, Mr.
Fannin. I suppose it is one of the guillemots, is it not?" asked Jack.
"Yes. That's the pigeon guillemot," said Mr. Fannin; "a very abundant
bird here, found everywhere on the salt water. It's more plentiful in
the Gulf of Georgia than it is up here in the inlet, but it's plenty
enough everywhere. They breed on many of the islands, rearing their
young in the rocks. They are industrious little birds, as you see, and
are constantly diving for food. They eat a crustacean which looks to me
a good deal like the crawfish that I used to see back East; and if you
watch, you will see that many of these birds which fly by the vessel
are carrying this crustacean in their bills. That means, I suppose,
that by this time of the year the young are getting big enough to help
themselves. I believe that when they are very young, though, the old
ones swallow the food, which, after it has been partly digested, is
disgorged into the mouths of the young ones."
"There seem to be some ducks over there near the shore, can you tell
what those are at this distance, Mr. Fannin?" asked Jack.
Mr. Fannin looked through the glasses and then replied: "Yes, those
are harlequin ducks. Take the glasses and look at them. Their plumage
is easily recognized even at this distance. They breed here on the
islands, I am told, though I have never found a nest. The Indians say
that they are very much more abundant on the river than they are down
here on the salt water. I have never seen a nest, and don't even know
where they breed, whether in the grass, or in holes in the rocks, or in
the trees. Of course, you know that there are some ducks that build in
the holes in the trees?"
"Oh, yes," replied Jack. "Quite a number of them, though I have never
found a duck's nest in a tree; and I feel that I should be a good deal
surprised if I did find one."
All along the inlet eagles, ospreys, and crows fairly swarmed, brought
there by the abundance of the fish, which offer food to all of them.
Salmon and many other sorts of good fish run up the Arm, while the
dog-fish--a small shark--is everywhere. There is no reason why a
fish-eating bird should starve here; and, besides the fish, the crows
and ravens find abundant food along the shore in the various sorts of
shell-fish that are everywhere abundant.
A little later, as the two were sitting on the deck in front of the
pilot house, enjoying the warm sun, the Indian Seammux came up, and,
squatting down beside them, began to talk in Chinook to Mr. Fannin.
After he had spoken for a few moments Mr. Fannin answered him, and,
turning to Jack, said: "Here is something that maybe will interest
you. Seammux is telling me a story about a selallicum that used to live
in the North Arm of the inlet, and in old times killed many Indians.
This monster must have been of great size. It was peculiar in form,
too, being shaped like two fishes, whose bodies were joined together
at the tail. It used to lie stretched across the mouth of the North
Arm, just beneath the surface of the water, one of its heads reaching
across to the other shore. Whenever a canoe attempted to pass up the
Arm, the monster would wait until the vessel was directly over its body
and then would rise to the surface and upset the canoe, and devour the
occupants. That is all that he has told me so far."
He spoke to Seammux, who replied at considerable length, and Mr. Fannin
interpreted again. "'In this way,' he says, 'the monster killed many
Indians, for the North Arm was a great hunting place, and fish and
game and berries abounded along the river, so that the people had to
go there to get them for food. At last, the loss of life caused by the
monster became so terrible, that the Squamisht Indians had lost nearly
half their people; and now no one dared to go up the Arm, so that the
people feared that they would starve.'
"'In one of the villages there was a young man who had seen the
misfortune of his people and pitied them. He felt so sorry for them
that he at last determined that he would sacrifice himself for his
race by killing this monster, even though it cost him his life. One
day he went to his family and bade them good-by, saying that he was
going away and should not be back for a long time. That day he went
into the mountains and did not return again. In the mountains he fasted
for many days, and prayed to the spirits, and at length one night when
he was getting very weak, he dreamed that a large white goat stood
near him as he slept and spoke to him, for a long time, telling him
to take courage and advising him what he should do. The next day the
young man went farther into the mountains and gathered certain roots
and herbs, and after he had dried them and pounded them into powder, he
mixed them with some sacred oil, and rubbed the mixture over his whole
body, leaving no part of his skin untouched. Then he walked down the
mountains to the shore of the inlet, and dived into the water. For five
years he lived in the water, scarcely ever coming out on shore; and in
all these five years he never spoke to a man. He became so much at home
in the water that he could swim faster than a seal or a salmon, and at
the end of that time his spiritual power was so strong that he could
call up to him the fishes or the seals and lift them into the canoe.
"'Now he was ready to fight the monster. He took with him two spears,
one in each hand; swam to the mouth of the North Arm, dived under the
monster, and thrust the spears into it. Then there was a fierce and
terrible fight; but at length the battle ended, and the monster was
dead. The young man was badly wounded, and expected to die. He floated
on the surface of the water, like a dead salmon. As he lay there on the
water, he heard the sound of a paddle, and soon a canoe came by him,
and in the canoe sat his brother. The two recognized each other, and
the brother lifted the wounded man into the canoe and took him to the
shore. The wounded man said to him: "My brother, take me up into the
mountains and gather there certain roots and herbs. These you must dry
and then cook a little. Then pound them into a fine powder, mix them
with oil of the medicine-fish, and rub this oil all over me, leaving
no part of my body untouched." The brother did so, and immediately the
young man rose from the ground, and walked about, sound and whole.
Then the two brothers walked home to the village, and since that time,
the monster has not been seen on the North Arm.'"
"That's a good story, Mr. Fannin, a bully story," said Jack. "I wish,
though, that I knew enough about the language to get along without an
interpreter."
"Why, if you are willing to give a little attention and thought to
the matter, you can learn this Chinook jargon easily enough. There is
no grammar to bother you, and I am sure that you will pick it up very
quickly."
"I must try and do so," replied Jack, "if I am going to stay in this
country."
That night a council was held in Mr. Fannin's shop, and the plans
of the two Americans were discussed at length. After a good deal of
talking, Mr. Fannin agreed to accompany them on their canoe trip. He
would go back with them to Victoria when they were ready, and prepare
for the voyage. All hands were gratified at this decision.
"But now," said Fannin, "before you leave here, I think that you had
better go up to the head of the North Arm and make a hunt there for
goats. Of course, there's a probability that you may have plenty of
hunting, on the trip, and there is also a probability that you may
have no hunting at all. We may have good weather and favorable winds,
in which case everything will run as smoothly as possible. We may have
almost continuous rains, and head winds, and in that case we shall have
to work very hard at the paddles all day long, to make any progress at
all. I am like most other people. I always think that any short trip
that I am going to take will turn out well--a good deal better than
I had anticipated; but I have travelled in canoes so much about the
shores of this Province, that I know perfectly well that we shall meet
with many difficulties and delays. I do not look for any danger.
"If you feel like making a hunt here I will get Seammux and another
Indian and two canoes, and we can go up the Arm, to where we were
to-day, climb the mountains, camp there for a couple of nights, have a
hunt, come back here, take the stage for Westminster, and from there go
to Victoria. By doing this, as I said before, you will be sure of at
least one hunt. On the trip you will be pretty sure to kill something,
perhaps enough to satisfy you as to white goats. What do you say?"
"Well, sir," said Hugh, "I am getting to be a little old to climb
mountains, but at the same time I should like to go up to the top of
those that we saw to-day. I don't care so much about the hunting, but
I would like to go up where I could see off a little way. Almost ever
since I left the ranch we've been in the timber, or else in big towns,
shut in so that I haven't had any chance to use my eyes. I'm not used
to that, and I would like to have a big view once more. What do you
say, son?" he added, turning to Jack.
"Tell me, Mr. Fannin," said Jack, "what game will we be likely to see
on top of those mountains?"
"Well," said Fannin, "I never have hunted there. I can only tell you
what the Indians say. They report goats as plenty. They say that there
are some bears; and they describe good-sized birds, which I think must
be ptarmigan. At all events they speak of them as birds about as big
as the grouse we have down here, but as turning white in winter. This
of course fits the ptarmigan. I don't know whether they are the willow
ptarmigan or the white-tail ptarmigan. I should be delighted if they
proved to be the latter. Besides that, there may be all sorts of rare
northern birds up there. You see, it's pretty high up, quite above the
timber line, according to what the Indians tell."
"Well," said Jack, "that sounds mighty nice, and I vote in favor of
going, if Hugh thinks best."
"I say 'go'" said Hugh. "Now what does Mr. James say?" he added,
turning to the latter gentleman who sat silent, smoking his pipe.
"Mr. James says," said that gentleman, "that he wishes with all
his heart that he could go with you, and was not obliged to return
to-morrow to New Westminster. By bad luck I have business there which
cannot be put off; and so, I must return on the stage. You others had
better stay here and make your hunt, and then when you come back you
can tell me about it."
So it was decided. The next morning Mr. James took the stage for
town, while Fannin, Hugh, and Jack began to get Indians, canoes, and
provisions together, for their camping trip in the mountains.
CHAPTER VI
OF INDIANS IN ARMOR
The next morning was a busy one for all hands. A messenger had been
sent across the Inlet to summon Seammux and another Indian, and Mr.
Fannin's camp outfit was brought down from the loft, got together and
cleaned; and provisions were bought. By the middle of the day, Seammux,
and an Indian named Sillicum, had crossed the Inlet, and anchored their
canoes close to the shore. Then the blankets, the food, and the mess
kit were carried down and stowed in the boat, and by that time it was
noon. Immediately after the midday meal the party set out.
Mr. Fannin had proposed that he and Jack should go in the small canoe
with the lighter load, and that Hugh should go in the canoe with the
two Indians, who, being stronger and far more used to paddling than the
white men, could move along at a better rate.
"You and I," said Fannin, "although our canoe is smaller and lighter,
will have a good deal harder time in getting along than the Indians. I
suppose that you have never paddled much, and I haven't either, for a
number of years. But now that you are going to make a canoe trip you
must learn to paddle and must be able to do your share of the work."
"Of course I have paddled some," said Jack, "in a birch-bark canoe, but
I have never done much of it."
"No," said Fannin, "I suppose you have just paddled around a few miles
for the fun of the thing, but you will find that if you undertake to
paddle here for hours, or for a whole day, that it gets to be pretty
tiresome work before the sun has set."
"Yes," said Jack, "I should think it would be tiresome. Quite different
from riding a horse along over the prairie."
Mr. Fannin turned to Hugh, saying: "Mr. Johnson, it won't be necessary
for you to paddle at all, unless you feel like doing so. The Indians
will do all that. They are both good canoemen, and all you will have to
do is to sit in the boat and smoke your pipe."
"Well," said Hugh, "I can certainly do that without much trouble. On
the other hand, I think it might be well to take along another paddle
for me, in case we are in water that is running strongly against us."
Another paddle having been secured, they stepped on board the canoes,
pushed off, and were soon on their way up the inlet.
The tide was running strongly in from the sea and for an hour or two
their progress was very good. At first Jack was a little awkward with
his paddle, for the canoe was wider than any that he had ever seen
before; and he was thus obliged to paddle with straighter arms. Mr.
Fannin told him not to pay any attention at present to the direction
of the canoe, but to leave all that to the stern paddle, which he,
himself, wielded. So Jack paddled steadily on one side of the canoe,
but kept his eyes straight ahead and watched the direction toward
which the bow pointed. They reached the North Arm, and turning north,
followed the westerly bank, and about six o'clock reached and passed
up by the island just below the head of the Arm. Here Fannin spoke to
the Indians, and after some little talk they turned toward the shore;
and, when the bank was reached, unloaded their canoes, and prepared
their camp. The top of the bank was four or five feet above the water's
level, and the soil was quite dry.
Mr. Fannin, looking carefully about for a camp, chose a somewhat
elevated spot; and explained to the Indians where the fire should be
made and the beds placed. The Indians each took an axe, went into
the woods and presently returned, dragging a number of poles, two of
which had crotched ends, and were already sharpened at the bottom.
These were driven into the soil so that the crotches stood about six
feet from the ground. Between these crotches a pole was laid, and,
resting on this pole, and running down to the ground at a low angle,
were a dozen or twenty other poles, the whole forming the sloping roof
of what was to be a brush leanto. Then the Indians went off again
and presently returned with armfuls of cedar boughs with which they
proceeded to thatch this roof, laying the butts up and the points down.
It was not long before they had a thatched shelter, which would shed a
pretty heavy rain. In the meantime, Mr. Fannin had kindled a fire, in
front of the shelter and Hugh and Jack had brought in a good pile of
wood. It was not easy here to find good fire-wood, however. So great
is the prevalence of rain and fog in these coast forests that all the
fallen tree trunks seemed to Jack too wet to burn. However, Hugh took
an axe and began to cut and split some rather large logs, that, after
the outer spongy layer of moist rotten wood had been passed, were
found to be perfectly sound and dry. The Indians now began to cook
the evening meal of fried bacon, fried potatoes, and coffee; while
the others brought the blankets from the canoes and spread their beds
under the leanto so that their feet would be towards the fire. By the
time this had been done, Seammux announced that the food was ready,
and before long the members of the party were sitting about the fire,
highly enjoying their meal. After they had eaten, Jack said: "I see,
Mr. Fannin, that you have brought your shot-gun along, this time, just
as you did yesterday, when we came out here. Do you carry it with you
everywhere?"
"No," said Fannin, "not everywhere; but I generally mean to have it
with me whenever I go any great distance from home, and am so fixed
that I can carry it and a few shells. Of course, I often go out hunting
just to get meat, and then I leave the shot-gun at home; but when I go
out hunting for pleasure, and especially when I go into a new country,
I always try to carry it; for one never knows when he may see a new
bird, or at all events a bird that he cannot recognize. I would rather
get hold of a bird that I've never seen before, than kill almost any
game that can be found in the country. Of course, if I were up in
Vancouver Island in the country where the elk range, I would not carry
the shot-gun, because I would want to get an elk more than any bird
that I should be likely to see. A good many of those elk have been
killed, of course, but I don't know that any of them have ever fallen
into the hands of a naturalist; and we none of us know what they are.
They may be the same elk that are found on the plains and in the Rocky
Mountains, or they may be something quite different. I should like to
be the man to bring out a skin of one of those animals and to have it
compared with the elk that we know so well. I have seen two or three
heads of the Island elk, and to me they don't look like the elk of the
East, but it's a long time since I saw an eastern elk, and maybe I have
forgotten just how it looks."
"Are those elk plenty?" asked Jack. "Mr. James spoke about them, but he
didn't seem to know much more than the fact that there were elk up on
the Island, back of Comox."
"No one knows much about them," replied Fannin. "They live in the thick
timber, high up on the mountains, and mainly on the western slope. The
Indians kill them sometimes, and bring in the skins and sell them, but
not often. Most of the skins they use to make clothing of, or else for
ceremonial robes, or for armor."
"Armor?" queried Jack; "that is something new to me. I never knew that
Indians wore armor. They have shields, of course; and I've seen plenty
of these; and a very good protection they are, for they will stop an
arrow, and are likely to turn a ball from an old-fashioned trade gun.
Isn't that so, Hugh?"
"Yes, son," replied Hugh, "that's all true enough; but Indians do wear
armor sometimes; or, at least, there are stories told of their wearing
armor, but it was always something that they had got from the white
men, and not anything that they had made themselves."
"Why, how's that, Hugh? That's something that you never told me, and I
don't think I ever heard the Indians speak about it."
"Maybe not," said Hugh, thoughtfully. "When I come to think of it, I
don't believe the Blackfeet ever had anything of that kind; but the
Pawnees did, and so did the Cheyennes and the Arapahoes. I will have to
tell you that story some time."
"Tell it now," said Fannin; and Jack added: "Yes, tell it now, Hugh."
"Well," said Hugh, "it's quite a long story, but I'll tell it to you if
you like. But before I begin I'll tell you how I first heard about this
armor. Way back, more than twenty years ago, I used to hear the Pawnees
talk about an iron shirt that they had. They talked about it pretty
freely, but I never got to see it. As near as I could tell, it was
something to be worn on the body; perhaps hung around the neck and tied
around the waist and under the arms. In other words, it didn't cover up
the whole body, but was something like a breastplate,--something that
would just protect a man's breast and belly if he were shot at or cut
at from the front.
"Years after that, when with the Cheyennes, I heard about a shirt,
an iron shirt, that they had; and when they talked about it, as they
often did, I found out that this shirt that the Pawnees had they had
captured from the Cheyennes, who once owned that and a lot more things
like it; in fact, a regular suit of iron clothes. There was a cap made
of steel, with a kind of a mask that let down in front over the face;
and a sort of a cape from behind that covered the neck. There was a
coat that covered the whole body and the upper part of the arms, and
laced up on one side; while there was a pair of leggings that covered
the legs from the waist down to the ankles. According to the Cheyenne's
tell, the man that had this suit of clothes on could stand up and let
people shoot at him all day long and he never would be hurt. But they
said that these clothes were so powerful heavy that they were very hard
to wear; that a man dressed up in them could hardly mount his horse,
and that if he tumbled off and fell down, it was all that he could do
to get on his legs again. For this reason they never wore the whole
suit of clothes; but they would take a part of it and wear it into
battle, and of course the man who wore it could go right into the thick
of the shooting, and the arrows and the bullets would not hurt him at
all, unless he happened to be hit on some part of his body that was not
covered.
"Now, I think it was along about 1852 that the Cheyennes and the
Pawnees had a big fight on Republican River. A big war party of
Cheyennes, Sioux, and Apaches, Kiowas and Comanches had gone out to
kill all the Pawnees; they were going to wipe the Pawnees off the
earth. They found the Pawnees hunting buffalo on the Republican River,
and attacked them, and they had a big fight, in which quite a number
were killed on both sides, and among them a lot of the bravest of the
Cheyennes. A big chief, 'Touching the Cloud,' wore a part of this iron
clothing--only the leggings, they say, spread out over the breast. He
had been very brave, and the Pawnees hadn't been able to hit him at
all. During the fight he charged on a single Pawnee, who ran away.
The Pawnee and Touching the Cloud were both mounted, and Touching the
Cloud, who, notwithstanding his armor, wasn't taking any chances,
rode up on the right-hand side of the Pawnee to strike him. Of course
you can understand, that coming up on the right-hand side the Pawnee
could not turn around on his horse far enough to shoot back with his
bow; whereas, if the Cheyenne had ridden up on the left-hand side,
the Pawnee could have turned around, and, pulling the bowstring with
his right hand, could shoot at the Cheyenne. But as bad luck would
have it, this Pawnee that Touching the Cloud was going to strike was
a left-handed man; so just as the Cheyenne was going to strike him he
whirled around on his horse and shot an arrow which, more by good luck
than skill, I reckon, struck the Cheyenne in the right eye and went
through his brain.
"That about ended the fight, and the Cheyennes and their party went off
licked.
"That was one of the biggest misfortunes that the Cheyennes ever had,
for Touching the Cloud was a brave warrior, a wise man, and one of
the handsomest among the Cheyennes. He had been the orator for the
Cheyennes at the Horse Creek Treaty in 1851; and later had gone to
Washington; and then, soon after his return, was killed, as I tell you."
"Well," said Fannin, "that's an interesting story, and that Indian was
certainly in mighty hard luck. I guess it was fated that he should die."
"Well, Hugh," remarked Jack, "that's one of the best stories I ever
heard, and it's queer that you never told it to me before. I guess
there are lots of interesting things that you have seen and know that
you have never let me hear about."
"Maybe there are, son; but it does seem to me that I've done a heap of
talking since I've known you; more maybe than I've done in a good many
years before."
"But where did this armor come from, Hugh?" asked Jack.
"Well, I was going to come to that. You see, after Touching the Cloud
was killed, the Pawnees captured the armor that he had, and have kept
it ever since. The rest of the clothes the Cheyennes had a few years
ago. I don't know what has become of them.
"I asked particularly where these clothes came from, and the story the
Cheyennes tell is something like this: A good many years ago, I don't
know whether it was fifty or a hundred years, one of them Mexicans that
used to come up trading from the South brought this suit of clothes
with him, packed in a box. After he had been trading for a while in
the Arapahoe and Cheyenne camps, he opened the box one day and took
out these iron clothes, and showed them to the Indians. Pretty soon
there were two or three of them that came to understand that an arrow
or a bullet could not go through these clothes, and then they wanted
to trade for them; but the Mexican let on that he didn't want to sell
them, and packed them again in the box and put them away. You see, the
Mexican could count on getting a big price for these things, for the
Indian who owned them could figure on being a pretty big man. In the
first place, he would be safe in going into battle; and in the second
place, he could do such brave things that he'd get up an almighty big
name for himself right away; and in the third place, all the tribes
that he went to war against, would soon learn that he could not be
hurt in battle and would think that he had some powerful medicine or
helper, and so they would always run away when he was with a party
that attacked them. So the possession of these iron clothes would make
a man famous for bravery, and that is the thing of all others that
Indians are eager for. Well, the upshot of it was that these Indians
began bidding against each other for the iron clothes; and at last
an Arapahoe gave the Mexican three or four buffalo horses for them,
and got them. After a little while, however, he found out that there
were some things about the suit that made it a less desirable piece
of property than he had supposed; and when a Cheyenne offered him a
great price for it, he sold it to him; and so it passed from hand to
hand, parts of it often being worn in battle, and always, or almost
always protecting the wearer from any harm. That's all I know about the
iron shirt. I expect it was one of those old coats of mail which the
Spaniards used to wear in early days when they first came to America."
Hugh stopped, refilled his pipe, which had gone out while he was
talking, leaned over and took up a coal out of the ashes and deftly
applied it to the bowl of the pipe; and then, after getting the tobacco
well alight, turned to Fannin and said: "Now tell us, friend, about
this armor that your Indians out here use."
"Well," said Fannin, "this armor is not of white man's make. The
Indians fix it up themselves. They make long shirts of elk-skin, and
sew into them straight pieces of wood, sometimes round, and as thick as
your finger, sometimes flat and a little wider than a common lath. The
elk-skin and the wood make an armor that will stop an arrow or a knife
thrust. It's a pretty clumsy article of clothing, and an Indian who
wears one of these coats of mail can't get around very easily; but he's
pretty well protected, and I guess feels a whole lot braver with such a
shirt on than he would feel if he were naked."
"I guess he does," said Hugh. "It's curious the way they worked that
thing out for themselves. Now, I can remember when I first came out on
the plains that sometimes the trappers, if they were in a bad place
and surrounded, used to wear shirts of the skins of two black-tail
deer,--one in front and one behind and tied under the arms. They said
that those skins, when wet, would turn an arrow. I wonder if they got
that from the Indians? I wouldn't be a mite surprised.
"I have heard, too," he added, "that there are some other Indians that
use armor of this kind; and that the Pueblo Indians that live down
South in Arizona and New Mexico use a sort of basket work to protect
themselves in war. Somebody told me once, but I can't remember who it
was, that some of the Southwest people wore shirts lined with cotton
that would stop an arrow; and I know for sure that some of the plains'
Indians wadded their shields with buffalo hair or with feathers, which
also helped to stop the arrows. I expect likely there's a good deal
more of this armor business than we know anything about. For all I
know, maybe there have been books written about it."
"Well," said Fannin, "we ought to get an early start to-morrow
morning if we are going to go up to the head of the Arm and climb the
mountains. I guess we'd better turn in."
"I reckon we had," said Hugh; while Jack said: "I'm not a bit sleepy,
and I wish you'd both go ahead and tell some more Indian stories."
"Too late now," said Fannin. "I guess we'll have plenty of time for
Indian stories a little later;" and before long they had all turned
into their blankets.
CHAPTER VII
SEAMMUX IN DANGER
They were early astir the next morning. It took but a little while to
get breakfast, and to load the canoes, which were soon on their way
up the North Arm. By noon they had reached a point at the foot of the
large island near its head, above which rose the great bare peak which
they had seen two or three days ago, and on which lay a large bank of
snow. Here they landed. They unloaded the canoes, and, taking them
out of the water, carried them a little distance into the forest and
covered them with branches. Then the blankets and provisions were made
up into back loads, and, the Indians bearing most of the burdens, the
party set out to climb the mountain. It was a long, steep clamber, and
it was not until five and a half hours later that they reached the
border of the timber, from which the unwooded summit rose still higher.
Seammux advised making camp on the edge of the timber, declaring that
a camp-fire made higher up on the mountains, where the goats ranged
and fed, would be likely to frighten them; and before camp was made
and supper cooked and eaten, darkness settled down, so that there was
no opportunity that night of seeing anything in the hunting grounds.
The climb had been a difficult one, and especially hard on the white
men, whose muscles were unused to this sort of exercise. There was no
disposition for conversation, and all hands sought their blankets soon
after the meal was eaten.
The next morning they were up by daylight; and after breakfast,
leaving the timber behind them, started toward the summit, passing up
a beautiful grassy swale, toward the higher land. It was absolutely
still, except for the occasional call of a gray jay in the timber or
the chatter of a flock of cross-bills.
Just before they reached the summit a dense fog settled down over the
mountains and at once cut off every distant view. The air was cool,
the fog heavy and wet, and, as it was useless to travel through this
obscurity, they halted and sat about waiting for the air to clear. As
they sat there, impatiently hoping that the mist would clear away,
suddenly out of the fog, and close by them flew two birds, which looked
to Jack like cedar birds, but cedar birds bigger than he had ever seen
before.
"Bohemian Waxwings," said Fannin, as he grasped his shot-gun. He
rose to his feet to follow them, when the older Indian spoke to him
warningly, and after an exchange of a few sentences Fannin sat down
again.
"What is it, Mr. Fannin?" asked Jack. "Are you going to try to get
them?"
"No," said Fannin; "I wanted to, but Seammux here says if I fire a
shot it will scare the goats, and we shall not see one to-day. I don't
believe it; but on the other hand, I don't know half as much about
goats as the Indian does; and as we came up here to get goats, I am not
going to do anything that might interfere with our getting them."
"Of course I don't know anything about goats," said Jack; "but I've
heard that they are very gentle and not easily disturbed by noise.
That's what the Indians have told me, but of course we can't tell how
true it is."
"Yes," said Hugh, "the Blackfeet and Kutenais all say that you can fire
many shots at a goat; and others, not far off, within easy ear-shot of
the firing, will pay no attention to the noise."
"Well," said Fannin, "we came up here to get goats, and those are what
we must try for."
It was nearly noon when a light breeze began to blow, and the fog
seemed to grow thinner; and a little later, without the least warning,
the great bank of fog which had hung over the mountains rolled away,
and the sun burst forth from a cloudless sky. They could now see that
they were on the crest of a mountain ridge that separated the valley of
the North Arm of Burrard Inlet and Salmon River from that of Seymour
Creek to the west. The divide they were on was broken and uneven, made
up of sharp ridges, deep ravines, and rounded, smooth and sometimes
almost level stretches. Everywhere on the high divide, except on the
tops of the rocky ridges, the ground was covered with heather, soft and
yielding under foot, yet good to walk over. As they moved along the
ridge, they could see at almost every step fresh signs of goats. None
were in sight, but this meant nothing; for although the country was
open and the eye could cover miles of territory, in any direction, yet
the ground was so broken that goats might be anywhere close to them and
still be out of sight.
After a little while Seammux left the party and started down the side
of the ridge toward Seymour Creek; but he had hardly gone two hundred
yards when he dropped to the ground, clambered up a short distance
toward them, and made signs for them to come.
"There," said Fannin, "Seammux sees something; I hope it's in a place
where we can get to it."
"I hope so," said Jack, "and that it's not too far down the hill.
Anything that we kill down there of course has got to be carried up
again."
"Well," said Hugh, "the easiest way to find out where it is, is to go
down to the Indian; but go carefully; this plant under foot is mighty
slippery, and you don't want to fall down and break your gun or knock
off the sights."
They scrambled down to the Indian, who, as they approached, made signs
for them to be cautious. When they had reached him, he pointed to the
top of the bank below him, and they advanced to look over it, supposing
that they might see goats, three or four hundred yards away, that
would have to be carefully stalked. But instead of that, when they
peered cautiously over it, there were four of the white beasts placidly
feeding on the hillside, within thirty yards of them. The curious
animals stood knee-deep in the heather, and seemed to be carefully
picking out certain plants which grew here and there among it. Their
horns were sharp, shining black, and directed a little backward; and on
each chin was a beard, reminding one of that of a buffalo, and easily
explaining the common name "goat" given to them. The animals seemed
so unsuspicious that Fannin hardly felt like firing at them; but to
Jack, who had never before killed a goat, no such thought occurred. He
was anxious to secure his animal. There were four shots, for the young
Indian, Sillicum, carried a musket, though Seammux had none; and it was
but a moment before the four goats lay stretched on the mountain side.
"Well," said Jack, as they stood over the animals which the Indians
were now preparing to skin, "that is about the simplest piece of
hunting that I ever did. These goats don't seem to be much more
suspicious than so many buffalo."
"No," said Hugh, "they are certainly gentle beasts, and that's just
what I've always heard about them from the Indians."
"Well," said Jack, "now that I have killed one goat, I don't feel as if
I cared very much to kill any more."
"No," said Mr. Fannin, "there's not much sport in it. You must remember
that these goats are scarcely ever disturbed, for no white men ever
come here to hunt; and I don't believe the Indians come once in five
years. It's very possible that these goats never saw a man and never
heard a shot before to-day."
By this time the Indians had dragged three of the goats to a level
spot, where they could work, and then went off to bring the fourth one.
Seammux had just seized it by the hind leg to pull it up to this level
place, when suddenly the goat came to life, sprang to its feet, and
began to run down the hill, dragging Seammux after it. The Indian was
plucky and would not let go, and his companion hurried to his aid. The
ground grew more and more steep, and presently the Indian and the goat
fell and began to roll over. Fannin, fearing lest Seammux might get a
bad fall, shouted: "_Kloshe nannitch_ (Look out), Seammux." Seammux
loosened his hold of the goat, and tried to stop himself by grasping at
the grass and weeds; but his momentum was too great. The goat continued
to roll down the hill, and disappeared from sight; and Seammux, rolling
after the goat, also disappeared.
"I am afraid he may have had a bad fall," said Fannin, as he started
running down the hill toward where the Indian had vanished. Sillicum
had seated himself on the ground at the top of the steep place, and
was slowly hitching himself down toward what seemed to be the edge of
a cliff. Hugh and Jack were close behind Fannin. When they reached the
top of the steep place, which was only fifteen or twenty feet high,
Hugh said: "Hold on here; I'll anchor myself to this little tree, and
reach my gun down; and you, Fannin, let yourself down by it as far as
you can, and reach your gun down, and Jack can get to the edge. He's
the lightest of the lot."
"Will he be sure to hold on?" inquired Fannin.
[Illustration: SEAMMUX ALSO ROLLED AFTER THE GOAT, AND HE, TOO,
DISAPPEARED--_Page 82_]
"Yes," said Hugh. "Don't bother about Jack, he'll do it." It took but
a moment for Hugh to pass his arm around the tree; and, holding his
rifle by the muzzle, he stretched it down the slope, and Fannin quickly
passed down. Grasping the rifle above the stock, he reached his gun
down nearly to the edge of the slope. Jack quickly scrambled down
beside them, and, holding on by Fannin's gun, at last found himself on
the edge of the sheer cliff; and looking over, he saw, but a few feet
below him, caught in the top of a fir tree that grew in a crevice of
the rock, Seammux, looking anxiously up at him. Below him there was a
fall of a hundred feet or more, and on the rocks, at the bottom of the
cliff, lay the carcase of the goat.
"Hurrah!" said Jack. "Hold on, Seammux, we'll get you up all right!"
Then he called back to Hugh and Fannin: "He's caught in a small tree,
not more than ten feet below where I am, but I can't reach him. If we
get a rope we'll have him out of that in two minutes."
"All right," said Fannin, "that's easily done. Sillicum and I will go
back to the camp and fetch the guys on the tent, and any other rope
that's there. It's only a little way, and we'll be back in fifteen
minutes. What sort of footing have you, Jack?"
"Perfectly good," said Jack; "there's a lot of gravel and broken stone
here, on which there is no danger of slipping. I could stay here for a
week."
"Well," said Hugh, "make a safe place before you let go Fannin's gun;
and then stop there in sight of the Indian. It will make him feel
easier, that way."
Jack stamped out a place where he could stand and even sit, and spoke a
few words to Seammux, though the latter, of course, did not understand
what he was saying.
Fannin called out to the Indian, in a loud voice, telling him that they
were going for a rope and would soon have him out of his trouble.
Seammux shouted back. Fannin and Sillicum climbed up the steep hill;
and, leaving their guns behind them, started on a trot for the camp.
To those who were watching at the edge of the cliff, they seemed gone a
long time, but it was really only fifteen or twenty minutes before they
came back again, each carrying a coil of rope.
"Good!" said Hugh. "I'm glad you've got back. It seemed a long time to
us watching here, and a good deal longer to Seammux. How much rope have
you got? Why, that's bully! There's forty feet in one of those coils,
and as the rope is a little light, we'll just double it."
He knotted one end of each coil about the little tree, to which he had
been holding; and, tossing the other ends to Jack, said: "Now, son,
double this rope and then throw it over the Indian, and tell him to put
it under his arms. How's the edge of that rock there? Is it sharp and
likely to cut the rope, or does the soil and grass overhang it?"
Jack knotted the rope, and called back, saying: "No, there's no sharp
edge to be seen; the earth and the grass run right out to the edge of
the cliff and seem to overhang a little."
"Very well," said Hugh. "Pass the rope to the Indian, and then tell us
when you are ready for us to begin to pull up."
Jack called to Seammux and made a sign that he was going to throw the
rope to him. Then tossing it out, it passed over the Indian's head
and one shoulder, and was caught on one of his arms. Jack motioned to
Seammux how to fix the rope, and he did so; and then the men above took
in all the slack, so that the rope was taut. Then Seammux slowly and
carefully began to turn around in the tough bending tree that held him,
and to work in toward the face of the cliff; and the men above began
slowly to haul in on the rope. There was a moment or two of anxiety,
while the rope at the edge of the cliff could be seen to swing and
twist a little; and then the hand and arm of the Indian appeared above
the cliff, and presently the head. In a moment more he lay with his
breast on its edge, clutching the weeds and grass with a vise-like
grasp. After a moment's rest, he wriggled on and raised himself; and,
helped by the rope, in another moment he stood beside Jack, unharmed,
but panting hard.
"Now, son," said Hugh, "take hold of that rope and come up here." Jack
did so, and was immediately followed by Seammux. All climbed up to a
level place and threw themselves on the ground, Seammux still panting
from his exertion, and the others greatly relieved that the danger was
over.
"Well, friend," said Fannin in Chinook, addressing the Indian, "you
wanted that goat so badly, why did you go only part way with him; why
didn't you keep on to the bottom?"
"Ha!" said Seammux. "I didn't want the goat. I thought that I could
keep him from having a bad fall, but I held on too long. I couldn't
stop him, and when I wanted to stop myself, I couldn't do that, either."
"Well," said Fannin, "you 're a lucky man. You must have a powerful
helper who caused you to roll over the cliff just where that small tree
stuck out."
"You speak truth," said Seammux. "I shall make a sacrifice to that
person when I get back to my house."
After resting a little, they climbed farther up the hill to where the
three goats lay, and the Indians began to skin them. They were the
first goats that Jack had seen, and he was much interested in examining
them. He wondered at the short, sharp, shiny horns, and the short,
strong legs, the great hoofs with their soft pad-like cushions on the
soles; and the great dew claws, which were worn and rounded, showing
that they were of use to the animal in climbing up and down the hills.
Hugh pointed out to him a curious gland close behind the base of the
horn; and when he smelled of it, as advised to do, he was almost
overpowered by the strong odor of musk that came from it.
"Well now, son," said Hugh, "is there no animal that these goats remind
you of?"
"There's one," said Jack, "and I thought of it when I was pulling the
trigger.
"They remind me a good lot of the buffalo. Look at the hump on the
back, the low hind quarters, the legs with the long hair down to the
knees, the shaggy coat and beard. These are all things that suggest
buffalo, yet I suppose this animal here is not closely related to the
buffalo. In fact, I am sure they are not; because my uncle has told me
that they were antelope; but I am sure they look more like buffalo than
they do like the antelope we see down on the prairie."
"You are right," said Hugh. "They look to me a good deal more like
buffalo than antelope; but then Mr. Sturgis has talked to me about
antelope, too; and he says that this antelope that we have here on the
plains, isn't a regular antelope, but is a kind of an animal by itself,
that hasn't got any close relations anywhere else in the world. He says
that the real antelopes are found mostly in Europe and Asia and Africa,
and that these here goats are the only regular antelope that we've got
in America."
"Yes," said Jack, "that's so; that's just what he has told me, and I
expect he knows."
"I reckon he does, son," said Hugh.
"Yes," said Fannin, "that's all gospel, I expect. I don't know much
about these things myself, except what I've read in books, but I have
read just that."
By this time the Indian had skinned and cut up two of the goats, and
Fannin said: "Well, let's leave the Indians here and go on a little way
farther, and see what else we can find." He picked up his shot-gun
and said to Seammux: "Carry my rifle, Seammux, so that if you see any
game you may have something to shoot with." Then, Fannin carrying the
shot-gun, the three began to climb toward the summit, working along
just below the ridge.
They had not gone very far, when close to the top of another ridge,
running out from the main divide, they discovered a large billy-goat
walking along the very edge of the cliff. He was some distance from
them, and though they were in plain sight and made no effort to conceal
themselves, he paid no attention to them. When they had come within
three or four hundred yards of him, they sat down to watch him. He was
feeding along, walking slowly, and stopping now and then to nip some
plant which he liked. Soon he turned sharply down the almost vertical
cliff, and worked along slowly and without any apparent caution,
farther down, about thirty or forty yards to where grew a large broad
leafed plant, which, Fannin said, the Indians reported to be a favorite
food of the animal. Here he stopped and began feeding.
As they watched him, and commented on his slow and clumsy, yet
absolutely confident movements, a loud hoarse call, almost like that
of a raven rapidly repeated, sounded on the mountain side just above
them. All turned their heads to look, and saw a flock of eight grouse
standing with outstretched necks, gazing at them.
"Ptarmigan!" said Fannin. "I must have these." Loading and firing in
quick succession, he shot the eight birds. "I hope they are white
tails," he said. "These are the first that I have ever seen, in this
part of the country;"--and he clambered up to gather his prize.
"Look at that goat!" cried Jack; and they turned their heads to look
at the animal, which was still feeding on the very edge of the cliff
in the same unconcerned manner as before the shots had been fired. Yet
he could not have failed to hear them, for the Indians, who were much
farther off, afterward spoke of hearing the reports.
The birds were not the white-tailed ptarmigan, as had been hoped.
Besides that, they were in the last stage of moult; the plumage was
worn and ragged, and they were hardly fit to skin, Fannin said. But
it was interesting to Fannin and to Jack to have found them on these
mountains.
Leaving the goat still enjoying his meal, our friends pushed on. They
climbed a high peak from which the whole range was visible toward the
north and the south, and far off to the south the two Indians were seen
apparently approaching some game.
Before either had fired a shot, a heavy fog obscured the whole scene;
but through it, a little later, came the sound of shot after shot until
nine had been counted, and Hugh remarked: "Sounds like a battle down
there." They learned later that Seammux had fired nine shots at one
goat before getting it, and his expenditure of ammunition was the cause
of more than one joke at his expense.
By this time having had all the hunting of goats that they wanted, they
decided to return to the camp. Before reaching it they were joined by
the two Indians, each carrying on his shoulders a heavy load of goat
skins and meat. They had almost reached the camp, and were resting
on the top of the highest knoll above it, when Seammux, whose eyes
were constantly roving over the country, pointed in the direction of
Seymour Creek and said: "I think that's a bear." In the bottom of the
ravine, about three quarters of a mile from where they were, some dark
objects were seen, and the glasses showed these to be a bear and three
good-sized cubs. There were hills on either side of the animals,
and to approach them was not difficult. Yet the very easiness of the
hunting took away from its pleasure. The animals were unsuspicious; the
cover good; there were three good rifles. A short stalk brought the
hunters close to the bears.
Fannin said: "Jack, you kill the old one, and we'll take the cubs.
I will whistle, and when she looks up, you shoot." It all happened
according to schedule, and sooner than it takes to tell it the four
bears lay dead. That night there was plenty of fresh meat in camp. A
side of young bear ribs was roasted by Hugh, somewhat as they used to
roast deer or buffalo ribs on the plains, and they were pronounced
excellent by all hands. There was abundant broiled goat meat, which was
deemed good by the Indians; but somewhat lacking in flavor by the white
men. After the meal was over and the pipes were going, Mr. Fannin asked
Jack his opinion of the day's sport.
"Well," said Jack, "there's lots of game here, it's a good hunting
country, and it's full of interesting life, but the fault I have to
find with it is that it's too easy to get your game. A man doesn't have
to work hard enough. He's pretty sure that if he keeps his eyes open
and uses ordinary precaution, he can approach close enough to these
very gentle animals to get them every time. To my mind, half the fun of
hunting anything is the uncertainty as to whether you are going to be
successful or not. If every time you take your rifle and start out you
are sure that you are going to get some game, there is no more interest
in it than there is in killing a beef for food at the ranch, or in
butchering hogs on a farm. Take away the element of uncertainty in
hunting or fishing, and you have nothing left. An Indian who goes out
to kill buffalo does not regard the getting of the meat as fun, but as
hard work; just as you or I might feel that pitching hay or riding the
range for wages was work."
"That's so, son; you've figured it out just right," said Hugh. "It is
work. The Indian gets his pay in meat and the skins. The white man gets
his pay in dollars and cents, so many of them a day or a month. Now,
when the white man goes hunting, he does it with the idea that he is
having fun, that he is doing something opposite from work; but when
the Indian goes hunting he knows that he is working, and working hard.
I suppose, maybe, it's just the difference between being a savage and
being civilized."
"I agree with you, Jack," said Mr. Fannin, "that there's no fun
whatever in hunting such as we've had to-day. Of course, if we were off
on a trip and needed meat for food, we would be glad to kill game just
for the purpose of eating it, but not for the fun of hunting. The more
a man works for his game, the more difficult it is to get, the greater
his satisfaction in his success.
"Well, to-morrow, I think, we can perhaps get down home again; and if
we can, we'll start on the stage for Westminster the day after, and get
to Victoria the following night. Then we can make our start for the
North."
CHAPTER VIII
THE COAST INDIANS AND THEIR WAYS
Two days later the party was once more in Victoria. The sail from New
Westminster to Victoria had been very delightful. After the swift run
down the Fraser River, between high walls of evergreen with their
backgrounds of distant gray mountains, the boat passed out on the
broad waters of the Gulf of Georgia. In every direction, save to the
west, the view was of mountains backed by mountains; and above and
beyond them all was Mount Baker, raising its sharp white cone toward
the heavens. To the south were the deep waters of the Gulf, dancing
and sparkling in the sunlight, and dotted by thousands of islands.
Beyond, and over them all, was seen the mainland of the United States,
with ranges of snow-clad mountains, above and beyond which one would
sometimes catch a glimpse of majestic Ranier. After the mouth of the
river had been left, Fannin called his companions' attention to an
interesting point.
"I want you to watch the water from now on, and notice before long when
the boat leaves the current of the river and enters the waters of the
Gulf. You see the river is constantly carrying down a lot of mud and
silt which must be mighty fine; for, instead of sinking, it runs away
out here into the Gulf before it disappears; and before long you will
see a change in the color of the water where we leave the muddy current
of the Fraser and pass into the clean waters of the Gulf."
Jack and Hugh were on the lookout for this, and finally the point was
reached where the turbid and clear waters met.
Hugh said: "Why, that's just the way the two streams look where the
Missouri runs into the Mississippi. The Mississippi is black and clear;
and the Missouri, of course, is yellow and muddy. You can see the line
plain always there."
"Yes," said Jack, "and I have heard father talk about two streams in
France, I think, where you see the same thing. One of them is the
Rhone, but the name of the other I have forgotten."
A little later the steamer plunged in among the islands. The channel
followed was difficult on account of the strong tides that were
constantly rushing backward and forward through the narrow passage.
Careful piloting is needed here, for at certain stages of the tide it
is difficult even for a strong steamer to stem it; and if the vessel is
not kept straight she may be whirled around, and that may be the last
of her. The sail was a succession of surprises. On many of the islands
were settlers; but with, often, only a house or two in sight. Passing
around a point, Indians could be seen fishing in the troubled waters or
camping upon the shore. There were birds in great multitudes; and not a
few sailing craft were seen passing here and there on errands of their
own.
After their two or three days of hard physical effort and life in camp,
the dinner at the Driard House tasted very good. The next morning they
started out to study the matter of transportation to the North.
Mr. MacTavish and Fannin both said that if a small steamer or launch
could be hired it would enable them to go a great deal farther, and
see things much more easily, at only a slight added expense. Some
days, therefore, were spent in searching the wharves of the town and
in excursions to other places in trying to secure what they wanted,
but without success. There were several small launches, exactly
suited to their purposes, but all these had been engaged for the salmon
fishing on the Fraser. The run of fish was likely to begin in a short
time. That year it was expected to be very heavy, and all the canneries
were making great preparations for the catch. There seemed no way to
get steam transportation. Failing this, the next best thing was to take
a canoe and proceed by that slow means of conveyance as far north as
time would permit. Fannin, whose experience made him a good judge of
what should be done, recommended that they take the steamer to Nanaimo,
distant from Victoria about seventy miles. Near that town there was
an Indian village, where canoes and help could be had, and from where
a start could be made. When this plan had been discussed and agreed
on, it remained only to get together a mess kit, hire a cook, and take
the steamer. A whole day was spent in this work. The cook engaged
was a Virginian, known as "Arizona Charley," a man whose wanderings,
including almost all of the United States, had at last brought him to
Victoria. He proved an excellent man, faithful and willing; and--unlike
most cooks--unusually good-natured. As soon as he was engaged the party
transported their blankets, arms, and mess kit to the wharf; and early
the next morning they were ploughing the Gulf toward the north.
[Illustration: HERE THEY WEAR WHITE MEN'S CLOTHES, INCLUDING SHOES AND
HATS--_Page 93_]
On this voyage, although so short, Jack saw much that was new to him.
As the vessel moved out from the wharf he was leaning on the rail with
Fannin, looking down on the passengers who occupied the lower deck.
"It's hard for me to believe, Mr. Fannin," he said, "that these are
Indians; they do not look much more like the Indians of the plains and
the mountains than a Chinaman does. There the men all wear robes or
blankets. Here they all wear white men's clothes, including shoes and
hats. They seem civilized, quite as much as the Italian laborers that
we are beginning to see so many of in the East."
"Yes," said Fannin, "they've changed greatly since I came into the
country, and changed for the better. They're a pretty important element
nowadays in the laboring population of the country; and for certain
kinds of labor they are well fitted. They make good deck-hands,
longshoremen, and fishermen; and many of them work in the lumber mills
and canneries. They're very strong and are able to carry loads that a
white man couldn't stagger under. Many of them work regularly and lay
up money."
"I should think from what I have seen, and am seeing, that their
natural way of getting around is in canoes. They must be skilful
canoemen, aren't they?" asked Jack. "A day or two ago I saw some little
children not more than three or four years old, paddling with the older
people, and apparently doing it not in fun, but really to help."
"Well," said Fannin, "they learn to paddle before they learn to walk.
I suppose it's because they see their parents do it. It's been my
experience that the games of most children imitate the serious pursuits
of their parents."
"I'm sure that's so," said Hugh. "Among the Indians I've seen it, I
reckon, a thousand times. The little boys pretend to hunt, just as
their fathers do; and the little girls pretend to pack wood and water,
just like their mothers. I've seen a woman trudging down the creek with
a back-load of wood that you'd think would break a horse's back; and
following her would be a little girl hardly big enough to walk, having
her rope over her back, and tied up in it a bundle of twigs. She walked
along, imitating the gait of her mother, and when she got to the lodge
threw down her load just as she saw her mother throw down hers."
"Well, anyhow," said Fannin, "you can see that these children, doing
this sort of work from babyhood until they're grown up, would get to
be mighty skilful at it; and you can understand how they can work at
it, just as you and Hugh here can get on your horses in the morning and
ride until dark; while, if I did that, in the first place, I'd have
to be tied on the horse; and in the second place, I would not be able
to walk for a week afterward. But there's no mistake about it, these
Siwashes are good watermen."
"That's a word I've heard three or four times, Mr. Fannin," said Jack,
"and I'd like you to tell me what it is--what it means--Siwash."
"Well, it means an Indian," said Fannin. "It's a Chinook jargon word,
and yet it don't exactly mean an Indian either. It means a male Indian.
An Indian woman is a klootchman."
"Klootchman!" said Jack. "That sounds Dutch."
"Well," said Fannin, "I don't know what language it is. You know this
Chinook jargon is a language made up of words taken from many tongues.
It's called Chinook; but I don't feel sure that the words in it are
mostly from the Chinook language. I guess Siwash, for example, is a
French word--probably it was originally _sauvage_, meaning savage.
There are lots of French words in the Chinook jargon, though I can't
think of them at the present moment. One of them, though, is _lecou_,
meaning neck; and another is _lahache_, an axe. These are plain enough;
but a good many of the words are taken from different Indian languages,
and are just hitched together without any grammar at all. It's a sort
of a trade language; a good deal, I expect, like the pigeon English
that the coast Chinese are said to use in communicating with white men."
"I suppose," said Jack, "that the Siwashes are mainly fishermen, are
they not? About all I've seen have been on the water paddling around
in their canoes, and whenever we've seen them doing anything, except
paddling, they have been fishing."
"Yes," said Fannin, "you're right about that; they are fishermen, or
at least they derive the most of their subsistence from the water.
Of course they depend chiefly upon the salmon, which they eat fresh,
and dry for winter food; for the salmon are here only in summer. The
Indians do some land hunting. They kill a good many deer, and some
mountain goats, but their chief dependence for food is the salt-water
fish. When the salmon begin to run in June or July, and before they
have got into the fresh water streams, the Indians catch them in
numbers with a trolling spoon. Of course the Indians do considerable
water hunting; that is to say, they kill seals, and porpoises, and now
and then a whale; but what they depend on is fishing."
"It means," said Jack, "that to these Indians the salmon are what the
buffalo is to the Indians of the plains."
"Yes," said Fannin, "that's about it," and Hugh added: "The canoe here
is about the same as the horse back where we live."
"Just about," agreed Fannin.
"Well," said Hugh, "that's all mighty curious, and I'm mighty glad I've
come out here to see it all. I never thought about it much before, but
I always had an idea that all Indians were about the same as those I
knew most about; and that they lived about the same sort of lives. Of
course I can see now just what a fool notion that was to have, but I
did not see it then."
"But, Mr. Fannin," said Jack, "these Indians must have a lot of money.
They are all provided with ordinary clothing, which they must buy; and
they're pretty well fixed apparently, with everything that they need.
Where do they get this money? Do all of them work, and get so much a
day?"
"No," said Fannin, "not by a jugful. Some of them work, and work
pretty steadily; a good many work, and after they have been at it for a
week or a month, they get tired of it, throw up their jobs and go off
in their canoes. They do considerable trading with the whites, however.
They gather a great deal of oil, and this is one of the main articles
of trade. You saw over on Burrard Inlet a whole lot of dog-fish. Well,
the Indians catch lots of these, and take the liver and throw the
carcase overboard. The liver is full of oil, which brings a pretty fair
price. They also kill lots of porpoises, and porpoise oil is salable.
Then, they make a great many baskets; mighty good ones too, they seem
to be. Some of them are water-tight, perfectly good for cooking, or for
water buckets. They also make mats, both of reeds and of the bark of
the cedar, and these are useful and sell well."
"Well," said Jack, "how do they live? We've seen some tents on the
beaches, but I suppose that in the winter time they must have something
more substantial to live in than these tents."
"Yes," said Fannin, "of course they do. Though you must not think that
the winters here are like the winters we have back East. It's pretty
warm here, and we have little or no snow until you get back in among
the mountains. The Siwashes along the coast live in wooden houses.
We'll see a lot of them before long, and then you'll know that they
are better than I can tell you. They are made of big planks split off
the cedar, and roofed with the same. All around the house, near to
the walls, a platform is built, on which the people sit and sleep.
In the middle of the house the ground is bare; and it is there that
the fire is built for cooking and for warmth. There may be a number
of families living in one of these houses, each family having its
sleeping place--its room you might call it--but all of them cooking at
and sitting about the common fire. The roof planks do not quite come
together at the peak of the house and the smoke of the fire goes out
through the hole. Sometimes the roof beams and the posts which hold up
the roof in front and behind are carved and painted.
"Close to some of the houses stand tall carved poles, called totem
poles. One may be carved with a representation of a bear, a beaver, a
frog, and an eagle, each animal resting on the head of the one carved
below it on the pole. They are queer things to see, and if you will be
patient for a few days we'll see them; and maybe we'll get some Indians
to explain them to us. They have something to do with the family
history, and some people say that each of these animals that is carved
on the pole represents an ancestor or ancestors of the man before whose
house the pole stands."
"Well," said Jack, "I'd like to see them. But from what you say, and
from what I have seen, the Indians must be mighty good carvers. The
canoes that we've seen had queer figures on them, and Mr. MacTavish had
some beautiful pieces of carving in black slate that he said came from
Queen Charlotte Islands; but I've forgotten what Indians carved them."
"Oh, yes," said Mr. Fannin, "that is Haida work. All the Indians north
from Victoria are good at carving. Of course the animals and figures
that they represent do not agree with our ideas of how these things
should be represented. Most of the figures are grotesque, but they show
fine workmanship; and if you give any of these Indians a model to copy
he will follow it very closely. Up in the North they will hammer a
bracelet or a spoon for you from a silver dollar; and they will put on
it pretty much any design that you may give them."
[Illustration: CLOSE TO SOME OF THE HOUSES STAND TALL CARVED POLES,
CALLED TOTEM POLES--_Page 98_]
"I see," said Jack, "that all their canoes are carved in front; and the
prows remind one a little bit of the pictures of the old Viking ships;
and then, again, of the still older boats that the Romans had,
only, of course, they were all rowed with oars, while the Indians use
paddles."
"Yes," said Fannin, "these canoes that we have here are not like any
that I know of anywhere else in the world. They're all made out of
a single stick of wood and are of all sizes. There's one up at the
Bella-Bella village, north of here, that's said to be the biggest boat
on the coast. It's one of the old war canoes, is eighty feet long,
and so deep that a man standing in it can't be seen by one standing
on the ground by its side. Such a canoe as that could only be made in
the country where the white cedar grows, a wood that is light, easily
worked and very durable. It's one of our biggest trees and sometimes
grows to a height of three hundred feet, and runs up to ten, eleven, or
twelve feet thick at the butt."
"Well," said Jack, "with a tree of size to work on I can easily see how
a canoe even as big as the one you speak of might be made; but what an
awful long time it must take to whittle it out! I should think that the
generation that began such a boat could not hope to see it finished."
"Well," said Fannin, "it's not quite as bad as that, but it is slow
work; and that is not surprising when you think that they have no
tools to work with except the most primitive ones. After the cedar
stick has been felled, and it has been found that no harm came to
it in its fall, they go to work and shape the stick as well as they
can with their axes, and then hollow it out by fire. In other words,
they build a fire on the top and allow it to burn just so far in any
direction, and so deep. After they have used the fire as far as they
can to advantage, they take a little chipping tool, made of a blade
of steel attached to a wooden handle, and chip the wood off in little
flakes or slivers, reducing the whole to a proper thickness, say an
inch or an inch and a half for a canoe thirty feet long. They have no
models, and the eye is their only guide in shaping the canoes; but the
lines are always correct, and as graceful as could be made by the most
expert boat-builder. When they have shaped the canoe, its gunwales are
slightly sprung apart so as to give some flare to the sides, and are
held in position by narrow braces of timber stretching across the canoe
and sewed to it by cedar twigs. They steam these twigs in the hot ashes
so that they become pliable, and can be easily used for this sewing."
"This cedar must be as useful to these Indians as buffalo hides are to
the plains' Indians," said Jack. "You pointed out to me some mats made
of cedar bark, some hats and some rope, all of the same material. Now
you tell me that the canoes are made of cedar and sewed together with
cedar twigs."
"Yes," replied Fannin, "the cedar does a great deal for these people. I
told you, too, that they built their houses of it."
"There are two different types of canoes on this coast," he continued,
"one belonging to the South and having a square stern and a bottom that
is almost flat, and the Northern canoe, which has a round bottom and an
overhanging stern. The big canoe that I told you about at Bella-Bella
is a Northern canoe. In old times these big canoes were used by the
Northern Indians on their war journeys against their enemies to the
South. They would come down, perhaps seventy or eighty men in a canoe,
attack a village, plunder it, capture a lot of the people for slaves,
and then take to their canoes again, paddling back to their homes.
These Northern Indians were great hands to go off on war parties. They
were a good deal more warlike than these people down here."
"This cedar that you talk about," asked Hugh. "Is there much of it to
be had? I haven't seen anything yet that looked like the cedar that we
see back East."
"No," said Fannin, "what you're thinking of is the red cedar, in some
of its forms, I guess--the juniper. This is the white cedar, and
looks as much as anything like a small tree that folks use for hedges
back East, and call arbor vitæ; only I never saw any of those arbor
vitæs grow anything near as big as the smallest of these cedars here.
Like the Eastern cedar, however, this white cedar is very durable. I
remember seeing in the woods once a fallen log, on which was growing a
Douglas fir two and a half feet in diameter. The seed of the fir had
fallen on the log and sprouted, and, as the fir grew, it sent down its
roots to the ground on either side of the cedar log, so that at last it
straddled it. The fir was about two and a half feet in diameter, and
so it had been growing there a great many years, but the fallen cedar
log was to all appearance as sound as if it had not been lying there
a year. The cedar log was covered with moss and most of its limbs had
rotted off, but when I scraped away the moss and sounded the stick and
cut into it, I could not see that it was at all decayed."
"Well, Mr. Fannin," asked Jack, "how do they mend these canoes when
they break them? Of course they must be running onto the bars and onto
the rocks all the time, and if a hole is punched in a solid wooden
bottom like this it's hard to mend it again."
"That's true," said Fannin, "and they don't mean to let the canoe
grate on rocks or get rubbed on the gravel beach if they can help
it. Notwithstanding its durability, cedar wood splits very easily.
Therefore the Indians take the greatest care of their canoes, not
bringing them up on the shore where they are likely to be worn or
rubbed, but always anchoring them out in deep water; or else, if
they bring them to shore, lifting them out of the water and sliding
them along the bottom planks--that almost every canoe has two pair
of--above the reach of the tide. Although it is so durable, the cedar
wood splits on the smallest provocation; and once or twice I have seen
a canoe that touched roughly on the rocks, or was carelessly knocked
against the beach, split in two and the two halves fall apart. Of
course in such a case it was pretty hard work to mend the canoe."
"I should say it would be," remarked Jack, "and I don't know how they
would do it."
"I'll tell you. They carry the loads up on the high ground to dry, and
then they take the canoe, fit the two pieces together until no light
can be seen through the crack, and then they sew them together with
cedar twigs and plaster the crack over with gum. I've seen a vessel
mended in that way, make a long cruise, but I confess I should not want
to make a very long journey in a boat patched up like that."
"I don't think I would either," said Jack. "I shouldn't think it would
be very safe."
"Mr. Fannin," said Jack, after a pause, "I suppose when we get started
we'll have to paddle all the way?"
"Yes," said Fannin, "you're likely to. Of course, if the wind is fair
these canoes can sail. There's almost always a chock in the bottom well
forward in which a mast can be stepped, and when the wind is fair a
sail is put up or a blanket is used. That helps along amazingly."
"I'm glad that you've told me all this, for now when I talk with people
up here on the coast they'll see that I know a little something and am
not purely a pilgrim."
CHAPTER IX
PREPARATION FOR THE VOYAGE
While Jack and Mr. Fannin had been talking the vessel had been moving
rapidly northward. The passengers were a mixed lot. On the upper deck
were English, Scotch, French, and Americans, while on the lower were
Chinamen, a negro or two, and Indians. Many of these had considerable
bundles of baggage; and with the Indians were their women, their
children, and their dogs.
The rounded islands that rose everywhere from the water showed gray
rocky slopes, the yellow of ripened grass, and here and there clumps of
evergreen trees. The scene was a lovely one.
"Mr. Fannin," said Hugh, "I wish you'd tell me what's that plant that
I see everywhere growing in the water. I suppose, maybe, it's a kind
of seaweed, but it's bigger than any seaweed that I ever heard tell
of, and there's worlds and worlds of it. The other day on the beach I
picked up some of its leaves, if that's what they are, and I found them
wonderfully tough. I found I couldn't break them apart with my hands,
yet they seemed soft and full of water."
"That's what we call kelp," said Mr. Fannin, "it grows in deep water,
and its roots are attached to rocks or to stones or even to the sand
at the bottom, and the stalk may be thirty or forty feet long. Down
in the deep water the stem is very slender, often scarcely as thick
as a quill, but it increases by a gradual taper, until near the top
it's nearly as thick as a man's wrist. At the end of the stem or stalk
is a globular swelling which varies in size, but may be as big as a
baseball. From the top of this swelling point, opposite to where it's
attached to the stem, grows a bundle of a dozen or twenty ribbon-like
leaves, each from one to six inches wide and from four to six feet
long, and fluted or crimped along its edge for the whole length. The
plant is brown in color throughout. Responding, as it does, constantly
to the motion of the water, it sometimes seems almost alive. It's
a queer plant. Sometimes it's a great hindrance to the man who is
travelling and sometimes a great help to him."
"I don't quite understand that," said Jack. "I can see that it might
be hard work to get through a bed of the kelp like that one over there
that we are just passing, but how should it help a man?"
"Why," said Fannin, "the stalks are very strong, and I've seen a large
canoe held at anchor by a single stalk of the kelp. Then, too, a big
bed of the kelp is a great break to the sea. The waves can't break over
a bed of kelp; and I have known of a case when a sudden squall got up,
where a canoe, unable to reach shore or to get any other lee, would lie
behind a kelp bed and hold onto the stalks until the squall was past."
"Do the Indians make any use of the kelp?" asked Jack.
"Yes," replied Mr. Fannin. "A number of the Indians along the coast
select the most slender stems, knot them together, and make fishing
lines for the deep-sea fishing, on which they catch halibut sometimes
weighing two hundred pounds. These stems are tremendously tough, and
they almost never wear out. A man may coil up one of these long lines
and hang it in his house for six months, and then, if he takes it down
and soaks it in water over night, in the morning it will be pliable and
perfectly fit to use."
Hugh had been listening to the conversation, but not taking any part in
it; but now he pointed off over the kelp bed and said: "Look there!
See those birds walking around on the weed. I reckon they are cranes
of some sort or other." Fannin looked at them through his glasses and
said, "Yes, that's just what they are. Two of those birds are great
blue herons, and the others are large birds, but I can't tell just what
they are. That's another thing that the kelp is useful for. You see
the plants grow in thick beds, and the stems are continually moving
in the current, and after a while they get tangled and twisted up so
that it's impossible to force them apart. In that case it's useless to
try to force a canoe through them. Then, lying there so long as they
do, and keeping the water quiet, a great deal of life is attracted to
these beds. There are many fish that live near the surface, and in the
warm waters there are crabs that live among the stems and sometimes
crawl out on them and rest in the sunshine. There are many shells. All
this smaller life entices the larger life, so that gulls and ducks and
sandpipers are often seen walking along or resting on the kelp. It is
just one of those things that we see often, where a lot of specially
favorable conditions will attract the animals that are to be favored by
these conditions."
"Well," said Hugh, "I can't get over wondering at all these things I
am seeing. This here is a new world to me, as different as can be from
what I've been used to all my life; and I expect, come to think about
it, that all over the world there are many such other strange bits of
country that would astonish me, just as much as this does, and maybe
would astonish you all, just as much as this does me."
"Yes," said Fannin, "I guess that's about so."
As they had been talking, the steamer had been winding in and out
among the islands, stopping occasionally at some little settlement,
and now and then slowing to take on goods or passengers, brought off
in boats or canoes from some little house that stood on one of the
yellow hillsides, half hidden among the trees. There were many settlers
on these islands. Most of them were engaged in stock raising. Some of
the islands had been turned into sheep ranges, and the settlers that
had gone into this business were said by Mr. Fannin to have done well.
Certainly there was here no winter which could by any chance kill the
sheep, while food was abundant.
As the boat proceeded the settlements became fewer and fewer, until at
last most of the island seemed unoccupied. All three of the travellers
kept watching the open hillsides in the hope that some game might be
seen, but none showed itself.
"I suppose," said Jack, "that there are some deer on these islands, are
there not?"
"Yes," replied Fannin, "on almost all the larger islands that are not
thickly settled there are a good many deer; and when the settlements
get to be too thick they can always start off and swim to another
island and try that for a while, and, if they don't like that, pass to
another."
"What sort of deer are these?" asked Jack. "Are they like the one we
killed at New Westminster?"
"Yes," said Fannin, "they are just like that; and I suppose they are
the regular black-tail deer; not the big fellow that you have out on
the plains, which, I understand, is properly called the mule deer. This
is the only kind found along this north coast, as far as I know, until
you get up far to the north and strike the moose. Down on the islands
of the Strait of Fuca, especially on Whidby Island, they have the
Virginia deer and plenty of them. But north of that I don't think they
are found."
It was noon when they passed Gabriola Island, where they had heard
there lived a man who owned a launch. They landed here, hoping that
possibly they might be able to engage this for their trip, but soon
discovered that the boat had not been inspected for a year, and
therefore could not be hired, unless the party was prepared to be
stopped at any minute by some government official and ordered back to
its starting point.
About four o'clock in the afternoon they reached Nanaimo, and Fannin,
Hugh, and Jack at once set out for the Indian village, where it was
believed a canoe could be had. The brisk walk through the quiet forest
was pleasant, and the Indian village of half a dozen great square plank
houses interesting. After some inquiry Fannin and a big Indian drew
off to one side and held a long and animated conversation in Chinook,
which, of course, was unintelligible to the other two. At length,
however, Fannin announced that he was prepared to close a bargain with
the Indian, by which a canoe, large enough to carry the whole party
and their baggage, including the necessary paddles and a bowman and
steersman, could be hired for a certain price per day, for as long a
time as they desired. After a short consultation it was agreed that if
the canoe proved satisfactory it should be engaged, and a start made
the next morning. The whole party adjourned to the water's edge, where,
drawn up on the beach were a number of canoes, all of them covered with
boards, mats, and boughs, to protect them from the sun and rain. The
canoe in question seemed satisfactory, and, the bargain having been
closed, the Indians promised solemnly that they would have the canoe at
the wharf at six o'clock the next morning, so that an early start could
be made.
Returning to town, the stores were visited and a number of necessary
articles purchased. The party was already well armed, having three
rifles, a shot-gun, and several revolvers; but a mess kit had to be
bought, a keg for water, all the provisions needed, a tent of some
kind, some mosquito net, rope, fine copper wire, saddler's silk or
waxed thread, packages of tobacco, fishing tackle, and many small
articles which do not take up much room, but which, under special
circumstances, may add much to one's comfort. Each of the party also
provided himself here with a set of oil-skin clothing. They knew that
they were going into a country where much rain falls, and wished to
provide against that.
After all their purchases had been made and they had seen them
transported to the hotel close to the water's edge, where they were to
pass the night, they started out to learn what they could about the
town.
The sole industry of Nanaimo at that time was coal mining. Here were
great shafts and inclines, worked day and night by a great multitude of
miners. Many of them were Canadians, but many, also, were quite newly
arrived emigrants from the Old World,--Scotch, Irish, and Welsh. The
coal--a good lignite--was in considerable demand along the coast, and
it was even said that it was to be imported to Puget Sound points to
supply newly built railroads there. The inhabitants of Nanaimo, and
indeed those of Vancouver Island, had talked much about a proposed
railroad that had been partially surveyed from Victoria up through the
middle of the island to Nanaimo. Such a railroad, it was generally
thought, would be an enormous benefit to the whole island. Nanaimo was
not an attractive place. The coal-dust with which it was everywhere
powdered, together with the black smoke sent forth by the chimneys,
gave the place an appearance of griminess which seemed to characterize
most coal-mining towns. Just why towns devoted to coal and iron mining
always used to look so shabby and forlorn and discouraged, it would
be hard to say; but most people familiar with such settlements in old
times will agree that this was usually the case. It may have been that
the laborers and their families were obliged to work so hard that
they had neither time nor inclination to devote to adorning, even by
simple and inexpensive methods, their dwellings or surroundings; or it
may have been that their work in the mines was so fatiguing that it
rendered them blind to the town's unattractiveness.
Even then great quantities of coal were mined at Nanaimo. But as there
were no railroads on Vancouver Island the coal was transported to its
destination wholly by water. The coal deposits were vast, and people
believed that in the future this would be a great mining town, and
might yet be like some of the great mining centres of Great Britain.
That night, after supper, as they were lounging about the office of the
hotel, Jack said to Mr. Fannin:
"You have told me a lot about the canoeing and canoes of these Indians,
Mr. Fannin, but I don't think that you have spoken to me about the way
they keep their canoes on the beach. Those we saw this afternoon were
all covered with mats and blankets, and I can understand how it might
be necessary to keep them protected from the weather in that way if
they were laid up for a long time; but, as I understand it, the canoes
that we saw were being used every day."
"That is true," said Mr. Fannin; "they are in use all the time, but,
nevertheless, Indians take the greatest precaution to protect them from
the weather. It is easy enough to see why this is, if you consider
that the making of a canoe is tremendously laborious, and at best
takes many months. Now, as I have already told you, the cedar of which
they are made splits very easily indeed, and it might well enough be
that exposure to the hot sun for a day or two would start a crack
which would constantly grow larger, and ultimately weaken the canoe so
that it could not be used. The Indians are far-sighted enough to do
everything in their power to protect their canoes. These coast Indians
take a great deal better care of their canoes than they do of any
other property that they possess. As I have told you, they are all sea
travellers, and their very existence depends on the possession of some
means of getting about over the water. I do not know anything about it
personally, but I understand that the Aleuts of Alaska, and the Eskimo
too, are just as careful about their boats as these Indians are. Of
course it is natural."
"Of course it is," said Hugh, "and you probably will see the same thing
in any class of men. Look at the way our plains' Indians take care of
their war horses and their arms and war clothes. Those are the things
on which they depend for food and for protection from their enemy; and
they cannot afford to take any chances about them. Of course their war
clothes often have something of a sacred character; but you will find
that if it comes to a pinch an Indian will stick to his fastest running
horse and his arms, and will let his war clothing go."
"Well," said Fannin, "all this is just saying that Indians are human
beings like the rest of us."
They went to bed pretty early that night, and Fannin had them astir
before the day had broken the next morning. On going down to the wharf
they found the canoe there, just off the shore, and the two Indians
sitting in it, holding the craft in its place by an occasional paddle
stroke. It took the men but a short time to bring down all their
baggage, provisions, and mess kit to the canoe and stow the load. After
a hasty meal at the hotel all stepped aboard and took their various
stations. Jack had been surprised to see how large a pile their baggage
made before they begun to stow it; and after the canoe had been loaded,
he wondered where they had packed it all.
CHAPTER X
THE START
The sun was not very high when they pushed off. The wind blew in gusts
from the southeast and the sky was obscured by a loose bank of clouds
which occasionally gave down a little rain.
The bow paddle was wielded by a gigantic Indian, known as Hamset;
while in the stern, occupying the position of steersman, sat a much
smaller man, whose unpronounceable Ucletah name had been shortened for
convenience to "Jimmie." Between the bow and the stern, seated on rolls
of blankets, were the four whites--first, Fannin, then Charlie, the
cook, then Hugh, and last of all Jack. Each was provided with a paddle,
and they worked two on each side of the canoe. The provisions were
stored in one box, the mess kit in another, and the rolls of blankets
were placed in the bottom of the canoe so as to trim it properly. The
canoe was quite dry, and loose boards on the bottom would keep the
cargo from getting wet, even if a little water were shipped.
The breeze which was now blowing was a favorable one; and they had
hardly started before it began to rain steadily and to threaten a wet,
boisterous day. Fannin was in great spirits at this prospect; for he,
better than any one else, knew what a few days of favoring winds would
accomplish toward hastening them along on their voyage. As the rain
fell harder mats and rubber blankets were spread over the guns and
bedding. The sail was hoisted, and all hands except the steersman took
in their paddles and sat back with a satisfied air, as if they had
nothing to do except to watch the breeze blowing and the land moving by
them.
Farther to the southward there had been many islands, which would have
cut off the breeze; but here the open waters of the Gulf stretched away
to windward for twenty or thirty miles, and there was nothing to break
the force of the breeze. As they advanced various islands appeared,
Texada showing a high peak above the fog; and then other smaller
islands,--Denman and Hornby.
The wind kept blowing harder and harder, until at noon quite a sea was
running, and the waves began to break over the sides of the vessel,
necessitating bailing. The canoe was heavily loaded and set rather low
in the water, cutting through the waves instead of riding over them
as it should have done. This pleasant condition of things lasted for
some time, but about two o'clock the sky cleared, the wind fell, and
it was necessary to take to the paddles once more, for now the sail
flapped idly against the mast and the canoe began to float back toward
Nanaimo--the tide having turned. The sea became as smooth as glass,
the sun glared down from the unclouded sky with summery fierceness,
and after a little while the travellers realized that the canoe trip
might mean a lot of hard work. More than that, the canoe seemed to be
anchored to the bottom, and, so far as could be judged from occasional
glances toward the distant shore, did not move at all. The work became
harder and harder, and Hugh and Jack at last realized that here was a
struggle between the paddles and the tide, with the chances rather in
favor of the tide. This, of course, meant that they must work harder.
Coats were stripped off, the crew bent to their work, and at last found
that the craft did move, although very, very slowly.
After a half hour's hard paddling Jack said to Hugh: "I tell you, Hugh,
watching that shore is like watching the hands of a watch. If you look
at the shore you would think that we were perfectly motionless. It's
only when you take some object on the beach and notice its position,
and then, five or ten minutes later, look at it again that you find
that our position has changed with relation to it, and that it is
farther behind than it was when you last saw it."
"Yes," said Fannin, "I've done lots of canoeing in my time, but I guess
I shall learn something on this trip as well as the rest of you. We're
pretty heavily loaded, and if we have head winds and tides much of the
time we'll have to put in about all the hours every day working at
these paddles. Besides that, we've got to figure on being wind-bound
for a certain number of days, and, taking it all in all, we can't hope
to go very far. Nevertheless, we can go far enough to see a good deal."
The progress of the canoe was made more slow by the fact that its track
skirted the shore, following quite closely all its windings, and hardly
ever cutting across the bays, large or small, that indented the island.
Jack asked Fannin why the Indians did not go across from one headland
to another, thus saving much paddling; and Fannin explained that this
was done partly to avoid the force of the tide, and partly from the
habitual caution of the east coast Indians. "On the waters of the
Gulf," said Mr. Fannin, "gales often spring up without giving much
warning, and quite a heavy sea may follow the wind almost at once.
These canoes, especially when heavily loaded, as ours is, cannot stand
much battering by the waves."
As the sun sank low, after a long spell of paddling, the bow of the
canoe was turned into the mouth of Qualicum River; and a little later,
when close to the shore, the vessel was turned bow out and the stern
pushed shoreward, till it grated gently on the pebbly beach. All hands
at once sprang out, and it was a relief to get on firm ground again and
to stretch the limbs, contracted by nearly twelve hours of sitting in
one position.
Now the rolls of blankets were tossed on the beach, the provision
box and mess kit and other property were unloaded and carried up
to the meadow above. In a few moments a fire had been kindled, and
preparations for the evening meal were begun. Now, Jack and Fannin
began putting together their fishing rods; Hugh took his rifle and
looked it over, wiping off the moisture that had accumulated on it, and
got out some ammunition. The party wanted fresh meat and was going to
try hard to get it. Meantime the Indians had taken out the boards from
the canoe, placed them on the beach, and were sliding the vessel up,
far above high-water mark.
Before Jack had made many casts he had a rise or two, and he was doing
his best to hook a fish when Charlie's shout of "Dinner" caused them
all to lay aside their tools and repair to the fire for supper. It was
a simple meal of bacon, bread, and coffee; but the work of the day had
given all hearty appetites and they enjoyed it. Then, a little later,
Jack went back to his fishing, and Fannin, Hugh, and Hamset put off in
the canoe and disappeared behind a bend of the river.
Being unable to do anything with the fish, which were now jumping
everywhere at the mouth of the river, Jack worked along up the stream,
and around the next point was more successful. A fish rose to his
flies and was hooked, and, after a brief struggle, was dragged up on
the beach. It was a beautiful trout, only weighing half a pound, to be
sure, but none the worse on that account, if regarded simply from the
point of view of so much food. Encouraged by this success, Jack fished
faithfully and carefully, and before long had killed half a dozen
others, all about the same size as the first. Most of these were taken
in more or less shallow water near the beach, but at length he came
to a place where an eddy of the stream had dug out a big hole not far
from the edge of the bank, and casting over this two or three times, he
had a rise which almost made his heart stop beating. The fish missed
the fly, but rose again to another cast, and this time was hooked on
a brown hackle. And then for a little while Jack had the time of his
life. The fish was far too strong for him to handle, and for a little
time kept him running up and down the beach, following its powerful
rushes, taking in line whenever he could, and yielding it when he must.
Once or twice the rush of the fish was so prolonged that almost all the
line went off the spool, and he even ran into the river up to his knees
in the effort to save some of his line. At last, however, the runs grew
shorter, and the fish yielded and swayed over on its side and was towed
up to the beach. But as soon as it saw Jack it seemed to regain all its
vigor, and darted away with a powerful rush. This was its last effort.
Gradually Jack drew it into water which was more and more shallow,
and finally up, so that its head rested on the beach. Then seizing
the leader he dragged it well in, and in a moment he had it in his
hands. It was a beautiful and very powerful fish, and must have weighed
between four and five pounds. A little later another fish was taken,
not quite so large, to be sure, but big enough to give the angler a
splendid fight; and then, as the sun had disappeared behind the forest,
Jack strung his trout on a willow twig and made his way back to camp.
Charlie received him with delight.
"Well," he said, "you're the kind of a man I like to be out
with--somebody that can go out and get food to eat. I bet them other
fellows won't bring in anything; but we've got enough here nearly for
breakfast and dinner to-morrow. I wish if you have time you'd go out
to-morrow morning and catch some more."
"I'd like to," said Jack. "Those two big fellows over there gave me as
much fun as I ever had in my life."
"Well," said Charlie, "you'll have better fun than that to-morrow
morning when you're eating that fish."
"No," said Jack, "I don't believe it. I think that I would rather have
the fun of catching those two fish than eating the best meal that was
ever cooked."
From the camp Jack wandered away along the beach and over the meadows
back toward the forest that came down from the higher land. Here he saw
that this must be quite a camping place for Indians, and that some had
been there within a few days. There were the remains of recent fires,
tent poles that had been cut only a few days before; and some little
way back from the beach, and hardly to be seen among the timber, was an
Indian house in which Jack discovered four canoes.
When he returned to camp, Charlie said: "I heard them fellows shooting,
but I reckon they didn't get nothing; maybe a duck or two, but nothing
fit to eat, like them fish you brought in."
"Yes," said Jack, "I heard the shot, but it was from the shot-gun, not
from a rifle."
In the meantime the party in the canoe had pushed its way quite a long
distance up the river. There was a possibility that a deer might be
seen along the bank, or a brood of ducks feeding in the shallow water,
and rifles and shot-gun were ready to secure anything that might make
its appearance. For a long way the canoe advanced through the dense
forest without much difficulty. Then it came to a series of shallow
rapids, up which so large a craft could not be taken. The canoe was
then drawn as near the bank as possible. The Indian carried the two
white men ashore on his shoulders, and all three followed up the stream
through the now darkening woods. They found many old tracks of deer,
and from time to time passed the fresher slide of an otter; but no game
was seen. As the light grew more and more dim, they faced about, went
back to the canoe, and turned its nose down the stream.
As the vessel swept noiselessly along the swift current, two or three
broods of ducks were surprised by its sudden approach from behind the
bend. On the upward journey the birds, warned by the noise of the
paddles, had seen the craft before it was near them, and had crept
ashore and hidden themselves in the grass. But now there was not time
for this. A flock of mallards, startled from the water, sprang away in
flight, and two of them were stopped by Fannin, and fell back into the
stream, to be picked up by Hamset as the canoe swept by.
It was only gray light next morning when all hands were astir. While
the breakfast was being cooked bundles of bedding were rolled up and
transported to the shore; and as soon as breakfast was over and the
dishes washed, the canoe was pushed off and loaded; the paddlers
took their places, and they set out again at just six o'clock by Mr.
Fannin's watch.
The day was bright and pleasant, with light airs from half a dozen
quarters, but no breeze strong enough to justify the setting of the
sail.
Just after they had pushed out of the mouth of the river, Jack called
Fannin's attention to a flock of birds sitting on the water; and they
were presently made out to be scoter ducks, of two kinds. There was an
enormous multitude of them, and almost all seemed to be males. When too
closely approached, fifty or five hundred of them would rise on the
wing, swing out over their fellows, and then alight on the outside of
the flock.
"Where in the world do all those birds come from, Mr. Fannin?" asked
Jack. "These are the birds that we call coots down on the Atlantic
coast; but I don't think at any one time I ever saw so many of them as
we see this morning."
"I don't know just what they're doing here," said Fannin. "But, as
nearly as I can see with my glasses, they seem to be all males; and I
shouldn't be a bit surprised if the females were all ashore, at little
springs or lakes, raising their broods. Pretty soon these birds will
begin to moult, and then the Indians will try to get around them and
drive them ashore and kill them. But this is a method that seldom
succeeds with these birds. If they see that they are going to be forced
on the shore they will dive and swim back under the boat."
"That's pretty smart," said Jack. "I have heard of the loons doing
something like that, but I didn't suppose a coot had sense enough for
that."
"Yes," said Fannin, "that's what they're said to do."
As they paddled along the head of a seal appeared above the water,
close to them, and after watching them for a moment or two sank back
out of sight.
"Son, why don't you try one of those fellows with your rifle,"
suggested Hugh. "It looks as if there were time enough to draw a bead
on one and kill it. I hear these Indians eat that sort of meat; and I
suppose what they can do we can too, if we get a chance."
Jack pulled his gun out of its case, put a couple of cartridges in his
vest pocket, and declared he would try the seals the next time one gave
him a chance. He did so, but the animals kept their heads above water
so short a time that he was unable to get a satisfactory sight on one,
and did not fire.
"Well," said Hugh, "these fellows are pretty watchful and pretty quick;
and as you don't know when they're coming up, it's a pretty hard matter
to shoot at them."
"So it is," said Fannin, "and yet I think if one had practice enough
they would be easy to kill. Certainly the Indians here, and still more
to the north, get a great many of them, shooting them and then paddling
quickly up and putting a spear in them before they sink. These little
seals that we see are, of course, nothing but the common harbor seal;
but when the big fur-seal herds pass up the coast the Indians get a
good many of them in that way, though many are killed by paddling up
close to them when they are asleep on the water and spearing them. A
long line is attached to the lance, the head of which is barbed, so
that it will not draw out; and at length they pull the seal up close to
the canoe and kill it, either with a club or by spearing it again. Seal
meat and seal oil are pretty important parts of the native food supply
on this coast; but more so to the north than down here, where the food
is more varied."
"Well," said Hugh, "we've surely got to get some fresh meat of one kind
or other, on this trip; if we don't, our grub will give out, and we'll
have to travel back to the settlement hungry. There seems to be a world
of food lying around,--deer, and fish, and seals, and all that. You
see, Fannin, Jack and I are prairie men, and don't know how to earn
a living on this water. If we were travelling back on the plains, or
in the mountains, we'd think it mighty queer if we couldn't keep the
camp in meat; but here we don't know how to go to work to do it. Don't
either of these Indians understand how to catch these fish or to kill
these animals?"
"I expect the Indians do," said Fannin, "but I don't, for I never have
had occasion to live in the country along the shore here. I'm something
like you, a mountain hunter. But we ought to be able to catch some
salmon, and to do it right here. You know that in a few days or weeks
now all the rivers along the coast will be full of salmon, running up
toward the heads of the stream to spawn. At the present time they are
gathering in the salt water, each fish pushing toward the mouth of the
river, in which it was hatched, and down which it made its way toward
the sea. They say that all salmon go back to the streams in which they
were bred to spawn. Now, when they are in salt water, and before they
reach the mouths of the rivers, the salmon will bite, and a great many
of them are caught by trolling, either with bait or with a spoon.
Haven't you some fishing tackle there that you could throw overb
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