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.
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.
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.
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.