Mr. James gave to Jack a number of letters which had come to Victoria for him and then been forwarded to New Westminster. They were the usual home letters which he read with great delight, and, besides these, one from his uncle, Mr. Sturgis, which told him that he had been detained at the mine and would not be able to meet Jack at Tacoma for at least two weeks.
Mr. Sturgis advised his nephew to spend the time in British Columbia and to allow himself two or three days to get from Victoria to Tacoma, where they would meet. Hugh also had received a letter from Mr. Sturgis, the purport of which was the same, and the two began to discuss the question as to how the next ten days were to be spent.
When they had reached New Westminster Mr. James had urged them to take two or three days' trip with him up the Fraser River on the steamboat, partly to see the scenery, but chiefly to get to the end of the Canadian Pacific railroad which was then being built east and west. The western end started at the town of Yale. The distance by steamer was not great, though the swift current of the Fraser is so strong that progress up the stream is not very rapid. This invitation Hugh and Jack now determined to accept, but as the salmon fishing was just at its height, they wished to spend a day investigating that.
In those days it used to be said that every fourth year the run of salmon was very great. The next year the number of fish taken would be smaller, the next still smaller; then the number would increase again until the fourth year, when there would be a great run. As it happened, the year of Jack's visit was one of the years of plenty. A great run was looked for, but up to the middle of July no fish had been taken, though for a week previous the boats had been drifting for them. The fishermen, however, were not discouraged, for at the mouth of the river were constantly seen great numbers of small black-headed gulls, oolichan gulls, so called, which Jack recognized as Bonaparte gulls.
Long before they returned to New Westminster salmon had begun to be taken in considerable numbers, the first catch being made about the last of July. The run kept increasing slowly until before their return to New Westminster it had become impossible for the canneries to use all the fish caught, and a portion of the boats were taken off. Early in August the catch was from seventy-five thousand to eighty thousand fish per day, though only one half of the boats were employed. The canneries were all running at their fullest capacity and the enormous catch was the talk of the town.
The next morning soon after breakfast Mr. James called for his friends, and a little later they started out to visit one of the canneries in order to get some idea of the method by which one of the chief sources of wealth of the Province was handled.
On their way down to the wharf, Mr. James talked interestingly on the subject. "The fish," he explained, "are all caught in ordinary drift gill nets which are cast off from the boats in the usual manner, and are allowed to drift down the stream with the current, meeting the advancing salmon which are swarming up the river. The other day I got from Ewing's cannery the record of the catch of a few of the boats, on one or two average days. For example, on August ninth five boats took nine hundred and seventy fish; the same day six boats took one thousand six hundred and sixty-seven fish. On August tenth, six boats took one thousand four hundred and ninety-two fish, and on August eleventh six boats took one thousand five hundred and thirty-eight fish."
"Now, these fish," Mr. James went on, "are chiefly sock-eyes, and average from eight to ten pounds in weight, but among them are a good many 'Spring salmon' which the books call quinnat, and these run from fifty up to seventy and eighty and even a hundred pounds. These records I have just given you give an average of about two hundred and forty-four fish to the boat, or rather more than two thousand pounds. Now, of course, the boats cannot take up their nets and make long journeys to the wharves to unload their fish. That would be an unnecessary waste of time, and would not pay, so that at all hours of the day and night steamers patrol the river, collecting from the row boats that do the drifting the fish they have netted. When a steamer gets a load she comes and ties up at the wharf and there unloads her fish. You will see them presently now, for here is where we turn in."
Leaving the main street they turned down an alley and entered a loosely put up wooden building, from which came a strong odor of fish which showed it to be a cannery. Mr. James pushed through the building without stopping until they reached the wharf where they saw a tug tied up. Great piles of shapely glittering fish were lying on her deck, and working over them were men with poles, in the end of each of which was a spike. Each man on the deck pierced a fish with the spike on his pole and threw it up on the wharf where lay a great pile of its fellows. They threw out the fish just as a farmer would throw hay out of a wagon with a pitchfork.
Hugh and Jack had never seen so many fish before, and for a little while were almost stunned by their mass. No one paid any attention to them, but each person went on with his or her work. At one end of the pile stood a couple of Indians who were taking fish from the wharf, and throwing them one by one into a large tub of clear water. Immediately next to this tub stood a row of tables at which were people armed with long knives. A woman next to the tub reached down, got a fish from it, placed it on the table before her and removed the head, sliding the fish along to a man next to her, who, by a single motion of his knife removed the entrails and cut off the fins and tail. The fish, thrust again along the table, fell into a tub of clean water and was washed by an attendant. Thrown on an adjacent cutting table, it was passed along to a cam, armed with knives about four inches apart, which was constantly revolving, thus cutting the fish into lengths. The pieces were then placed in the tin cans which were filled up even-full.
Jack and Hugh stared at these different processes which went on without a pause. It seemed as if each operator might be a machine. Each one performed a certain task and only that, and beyond that did nothing but shove each fish along, then reach back and take another. The knives, it seemed, always fell in the same place, and cut off the same parts with the same precision. It was a rising and falling of arms and knives, in the preparation of a food which was soon to be distributed all over the globe.
At length they reached the cutting table. "Here," said Mr. James, "you can see how systematically the thing is done. It isn't enough that the fish should be cut into pieces, but it must be cut into sizes that are just about long enough to fill the can so that as few motions as possible need be gone through with to get the can level full."
"There! do you see!" he went on, pointing to a Chinaman, who with two or three motions of his right hand filled a can, just even-full; and then slid it along the table to a man next to him, who slipped on it the circular cover of tin and passed this on to the next man, who was handling a soldering iron and a bit of solder. In but a second, as it seemed to Jack, the soldering of the can was finished, and then with a push the can went on to join those which were being bunched up by the Chinamen, and placed in a shallow tray made of strap iron. When this tray was full a hook on the end of a chain running down from a traveller near the ceiling was hooked into a ring attached to chains running to the four corners of the tray, the tray was lifted, and run along the traveller a short distance until it stood over a vat of boiling water. It was then dropped into this, hung there for a few moments; and then, rising again, moved a little farther along the traveller, and descended on a table. By this table stood a Chinaman, holding a small wooden mallet with which he tapped each can.
"You see," said Mr. James, "the expansion of the contents of the can under heat makes the cover bulge, and when the Chinaman taps it with the mallet he can tell at once by the sound, whether the solder is perfectly tight or not. If, when the mallet strikes it, the cover yields much, he knows that there is an escape for the air and the can is thrown out. There, see him throw that one out? When the Chinaman taps the cans it seems as if he were paying little attention to the work, but when a defective can comes along he detects it at once and casts it aside, just as he did that one." This happened to be the only one rejected of this lot, and the operator at once reversed his mallet and began to tap them over again.
"What is he doing now, Mr. James?" asked Jack. "Is he going over them again?"
"No," said Mr. James; "look closely at the mallet and you will see that he has reversed it; and in this end of the mallet there is a little tack. Each time he strikes a can he punctures it, allowing, as you see, air, water, and steam to escape. As soon as this is done, the other workmen, with their soldering irons seal up these little bits of holes, and the work is done. Now the only thing to do is to label the cans, box them, and ship them to the markets."
"How many fish do they put up here in a day, Mr. James?" asked Jack.
"About five hundred cases," said Mr. James. "It's a lot, isn't it?"
"I should say so," said Jack, "it makes my head swim to think of it, and that is being done all along the river, isn't it?"
"Yes," said Mr. James. "It is, and it keeps up for weeks and sometimes for months. The run of sockeye salmon usually lasts from four to six weeks, and during that time the factories run from four in the morning to seven or eight at night; and the work goes on constantly, Sundays as well as week days."
"Well," said Hugh; "I don't see how there are any salmon left in the river. I should think you would catch them all. There must be a lot of factories just like this all along the river; what becomes of the people living farther up the stream?"
"I can't answer that very well, myself," said Mr. James, "except that I know that there are plenty of them. Here comes a man, though, who can tell you. He is an old fisherman, and has been in the canning business for years. Oh, McIntyre!" he called out to a raw-boned, weather-beaten man who passed not far from them. Mr. McIntyre looked at him, came over, and was introduced to Hugh and Jack as the proprietor of the cannery. He was glad to see them, and readily talked about salmon and salmon canning.
"Mr. Johnson, here," said Mr. James, "was wondering that there were any salmon left in the river for the people who live above here. He thinks you are catching them all."
Mr. McIntyre laughed loudly as he replied: "Oh, not all of them; there are a few that get up. You see, this year we have not been able to use all the fish we caught, and we have taken off one half the boats. I don't believe that one fish is caught out of ten thousand that enter the river. Everybody between here and the head of the river captures all the fish he wants, and in the autumn you will see fish that have spawned and died, floating down the river by the million. Of course, I don't know how many are taken here, but I fancy more than two million or two and a half million fish. The Indians all the way up the river have no trouble whatever in catching all they want. If you should go up the river you would see their camps along the shore, and you would see, too, that they were catching many fish."
"How do they catch them, Mr. McIntyre?" asked Jack.
"They catch them chiefly in purse nets; scooping them up out of the water, just as fast as the net can be swept."
"You ought to take them up the river, Charlie," he added, turning to Mr. James, "and let them see what goes on between here and Yale."
"That's just what I am trying to do," said Mr. James. "I want to get them to go up with me and I hope perhaps we can start to-morrow."
Much time was spent at the cannery, for Jack and Hugh did not seem to tire of watching the swift, certain, and never-ending movements that went on here for hours until the whistle blew for noon. Then, indeed, they reluctantly left the factory and returned to the hotel.
AN INDIAN SALMON WEIR—Page 234
It must be remembered that all this occurred some twenty-five years ago, and that since that time wonderful changes have taken place in the methods and operations of salmon canning. This is merely an account of what Jack saw when he visited New Westminster.
The next morning, with Mr. James, Jack and Hugh boarded the comfortable steamer which was to take them up the Fraser to the town of Yale, the head of navigation of the lower river. Mr. James was anxious to have them see the end of the Canadian Pacific railroad, of which all the residents of the Province were immensely proud at that time, for it was the first railroad that had been built in British Columbia. Incidentally they would view the scenery of the Fraser, and would see many other interesting things.
Near its mouth the Fraser is very muddy, and Hugh and Jack spoke of its resemblance in this respect to the Missouri, with which they were so familiar. As the steamer ploughed its way up the river the water became less and less turbid, until, when Yale was reached, though by no means colorless, it had lost its muddy appearance and was beautifully green. The current is everywhere rapid, and at certain points where the channel is narrow the water rushes between the steep banks with such violence that at times it seemed doubtful whether the vessel could overcome its force. At such points Jack and Hugh were always interested in watching the struggle, and noting by points on the bank the slow but steady passage which the vessel made in overcoming the force of the water. For some distance above New Westminster the river is broad and flows through a wide alluvial bottom covered with a superb growth of cotton-wood trees; but farther up the channel is narrow; and mountains rise on either side, not very high but very steeply, and on them they saw frequent evidences of landslips which had laid bare long stretches of dark red rock, which contrasted beautifully with the green of the forests.
As they passed along, Mr. James pointed out one mountain after another, and told of the silver mines and the silver prospects that had been found on each. In many places along the river were seen extensive stretches of barren land covered with cobblestones and boulders which to Jack seemed out of place in a region where vegetation was so universal.
"Why is it, Mr. James," he asked, "that nothing seems to grow on these great piles of pebbles and cobblestones?"
"Why," said Mr. James, "that is old mining ground. Many of these gravel bars have been worked over by placer miners; and these piles of stones were left after the soil and fine sand had been washed for the gold which it contained. Many of these bars have been worked over a number of times, and all of them, twice. Along this river it has been just as it has been back in the States. After gold was discovered, the white man first went over the ground and washed the gravel, getting most of the gold; and then, after he got through, the Chinaman, slow, patient, persistent, and able to subsist on little or nothing, went over the ground again and found in the abandoned claims money enough to pay what seemed to him good wages; in other words sufficient to give him a living, and enable him to save up money enough to take him back to his own country, where he lived comfortably for the rest of his life.
"I am no miner," Mr. James continued, "but you must talk with Hunter. He is a civil engineer with a lot of experience, and I saw him on the boat this morning. I understand that he has a mining scheme which is big, though, of course, it is only a speculation as yet."
Mr. James stopped talking and looked about the deck, and then walked over to a tall, thin man who was standing near the rail, smoking. After speaking to him, the two came to where Jack and Hugh were sitting. Introductions followed, and after a little time Mr. Hunter explained what it was that he proposed to do.
"Quesnelle Lake," he said, "lies away north of Yale and east of the river, in a country where some good prospects have been found. From the Lake, Quesnelle River flows into the Fraser. The bed of Quesnelle River is supposed to be very rich in gold. It is said that it is so rich that the Chinamen anchor their boats in the river and dredge the dirt from the bottom, take it ashore and wash it, and in this way make good wages. I have received a Dominion grant to mine this river, or so much of it as I can. Of course, as yet, this is a mere prospect, but I am going up there now to find something definite about it. I shall have to do some dredging to find out what there is in the bottom of the river. If I find that the dirt there is rich enough, I shall build, across the river near Quesnelle Lake, a dam strong enough to hold back for three or six months of the year—during the dry season, in other words—the water of the lake, so that the volume which passes through the river channel will be greatly diminished. This will leave bare a great portion of the river channel, which can then be mined by ordinary hydraulic processes. As I say, there is as yet nothing certain about the matter, but there seems sufficient prospect of profit in it to make it worth while to attempt it."
"That seems a reasonable scheme," said Hugh, "though, of course, as yet there are a number of 'ifs' to it."
"There are a good many," said Mr. Hunter; "but I believe that in the course of the next three months I shall know much more about it than I do now."
"I believe, Mr. Hunter," said Jack, "that you have travelled a great deal over the Province, have you not?"
"Yes," said Mr. Hunter, "a good deal. I have been over the whole length of it and over much of its width, but I know little about its northwest corner. There I never happened to be; but from the Fraser and Kootenay rivers, down to the boundary line and all along the western part of the Province, I have been."
"Is there any place near here," said Jack, "where one could go into the mountains for say a week or ten days, with a prospect of getting a little hunting? I don't mean for deer and goats, because I suppose these are found almost everywhere, but with some prospect of finding sheep, and perhaps elk? I believe that bears exist everywhere, and of course the meeting with them is a matter of luck."
Mr. Hunter considered for a moment or two, and then said: "Do you want to make a little hunting trip of this kind, and now?"
"Yes," said Jack, "Mr. Johnson, here, and I were thinking of doing that."
"Well," said Mr. Hunter; "I believe I know just the place for you. It's only a short distance from Hope, a town just below Yale, on the river, and if you can get started at once, four or five days ought to take you into a good sheep country, where there are also a few deer and goats. You could have three or four days hunting there, and could get back to take the steamer down the river and get to Westminster inside of two weeks."
"That's a little bit more time than we have to give to the trip," said Jack, "but perhaps we could do that, and perhaps we could gain a day or two in the travelling."
"Perhaps you might," said Mr. Hunter, "those things depend largely upon the outfit you have and chiefly on the energy of the man who runs your outfit. If you get somebody who is a rustler, who will get you up every morning before day and have the train on the march before the sun is up, and travel all day, you can get along pretty rapidly."
"Well," said Hugh, "it seems to be a matter that depends largely upon ourselves. Son and I are fair packers, and if we can get horses and a man to wrangle them and somebody that knows the road, we ought to be able to keep them moving."
"I'll tell you what I will do," said Mr. Hunter. "When we get to Yale I will telegraph to an acquaintance of mine in Hope, and find out what the prospect is of getting the outfit that you want."
Hugh and Jack both thanked Mr. Hunter, and after some inquiry about the character of the country to be traversed, the talk turned to other subjects. It was but a little later when the boat began to pass groups of Indians camping along the shore; and near each camp were seen the drying stages on which they were curing the fish that they took. Horizontal poles were raised five or six feet above the ground and these were thickly hung with the red flesh, making a band of bright color which stood out in bold relief against the green of the trees and the cold gray of the rocks.
Jack and Hugh looked at these camps with much interest.
"It looks some like a little camp on the plains when there has been a killing and the meat is just hung up to dry, doesn't it, son?" remarked Hugh.
"A little," said Jack, "but I cannot separate the camp from its surroundings of mountains and timber and big water."
"No," said Hugh, "that is hard to do, but of course these people are gathering their meat and drying it just as our Indians gather their meat and dry it."
In front of the tents and shelters in which the Indians lived down on the bank of the river, were scaffolds made of long poles thrust into the rocks and resting on other rocks, projecting out well over the water. On each one of these stood one or more Indians engaged in fishing with a hand net which he swept through the water, just as had been described the day before by Mr. McIntyre. To see it actually done made the operation so much easier to understand than when it had been simply described. The Indians swept their nets through the water from up stream downward, and at almost every sweep the net brought up a fish, which the man took from it with his left hand and threw to a woman standing on the bank above the stream. They could be seen to perform some operation on it, and sometimes a woman with an armful of fish went up and hung them on the drying scaffold.
Mr. Hunter was standing by them, also observing the fishing, and Jack said to him: "Mr. Hunter, I can't see clearly enough to understand just what these nets are and how they are worked. Can you explain it to me?"
"Yes," said Mr. Hunter. "It's very simple, and when you go ashore at Yale, you will be able to see the Indians catch fish in just this way, and you can see for yourself just how it is done. You know what an ordinary landing net is, don't you—a net such as we use for trout?"
"Yes, of course I do," said Jack, "it's pretty nearly what we call a scap net along the salt water, except that it is not so large or so coarse."
"Yes," said Mr. Hunter. "You know that a landing net has a handle, a hoop, to which the net is attached, and a large net hanging down below the hoop. Now if you imagine a landing net four or five times as big as any you ever saw, you will have an idea of the general appearance of one of these purse nets when spread. The hoop of the purse net is oval and made of a round stick, the branch of a tree bent so that the hoop is about four feet long by three feet broad. This hoop is attached to a long handle. Running on the stick, which forms the hoop, are a number of wooden rings, large enough to run freely. The net is attached to these small wooden rings, and if the handle is held vertically the weight of the net and rings will bring all the rings together at the bottom of the hoop, so that the net is a closed bag. Now from the end of the handle of the purse net a string runs to the hoop and is attached to the wooden rings that run on it in such a way that if you pull on the string the little wooden rings spread themselves out at equal distances all around the hoop, and the net becomes open, just as an ordinary landing net is when open. As the Indian is about to sweep the net to try to catch a fish, he pulls the string which spreads the net, and the net is then swept through the water with a slow motion. The string which holds it open passes around the little finger of one hand; and if the fisherman feels anything strike against the net, the string is loosened, the rings run together, and the net becomes a closed bag which securely holds the object within it. The salmon, swimming against the current, pass along close to the steep bank where the force of the water is least, and the eddies help them. The Indians know where the salmon pass, and sweep their nets along there to meet them; and, as you see, catch lots of fish."
"That makes it just as clear as anything," said Jack, "and I am very much obliged to you for telling me about it. I want to understand these things that I see, and sometimes it is pretty hard to do so without an explanation. Now, if you will let me, there is another question I would like to ask you. What do the women do in preparing the salmon for drying? I can see that they are using knives. Do they just cut off the head, or do they take out the backbone?"
"I am glad you asked me this question," said Mr. Hunter, "because there's a difference in the way the Indians save the fish. The coast Indians just cut off the head and remove the entrails, but these Indians up here are more dainty; I suppose, as a matter of fact, they are more primitive, and do not understand the importance of collecting all the food they can, although they ought to understand that, for they have certainly starved many times when the salmon run has been a poor one. Up here, the Indians only save the belly of the fish. By a single slash of her knife, the woman cuts away the whole belly from the throat back to a point behind the anal fins, and extending up on the sides to where the solid flesh begins. This portion is retained and hung up to dry. The whole shoulders, back and tail are thrown into the water again. There is another thing that I believe will interest you. You see these stages from which they are fishing? Well, you might think that anybody might come along and build a stage and go to fishing, or that whoever came first in the summer to one of these stages might occupy it, and use it during the season, but that isn't the fact. These stages are private property, or rather family property, and the right to occupy and use each point descends from the father to the oldest son of the family."
"Well," said Jack, "that's new to me. I never heard of anything like it. Did you, Hugh?"
"No," said Hugh, "it's one ahead of me."
"Well," said Mr. Hunter, "you will find quite a lot of customs of that kind along this coast. Certain tribes and certain families have the right to hunt or fish in certain localities and it's a right that is universally respected among the Indians. A man would no more think of interfering with another family's fishing stage or trespassing on his hunting ground than he would think of disturbing a cache of food that did not belong to him."
"That's another thing I had not heard of, Mr. Hunter," said Jack; "the fact that the Indians have separate special places where they have the right to hunt and where other people have not that right."
"Yes," said Hugh, "that's new to me, and would seem quite queer to anybody in our country."
"What is your country, if I may ask?" said Mr. Hunter, courteously.
"Why," said Hugh, "son and I have been for the last three or four years on the plains and in the mountains back in the States."
"Oh, in the Rocky Mountains?" said Mr. Hunter.
"Yes," said Hugh.
"There, of course, your game is chiefly buffalo, I suppose, and they wander a good deal, do they not?"
"Yes," said Hugh, "they wander some, but not so much as most people think. A great many people say that in summer the buffalo all go north and in winter they all go down south, but that's not so. There are movements of the herds with the seasons, but they are not very extensive."
"Mr. Hunter," said Jack, taking advantage of a moment's pause, "I have heard something about the caches that the Indians make of their food, but I have never seen one in this country. Will you tell me how they arrange them?"
"Certainly," said Mr. Hunter. "These Indians, here, after their fish have dried, pack them together; and in a tree, far above the reach of animals or insects, they build something that you might call a little house or a big box, in which they store the food and leave it there against a time of need. The house or box, whichever you choose to call it, is built of shakes, that is, of thin planks split from the cedar, is fairly well jointed, and has a tight and slightly sloping roof so that the moisture cannot get into it. Usually they are seen along the streams or near favorite camping grounds, and I should not be at all surprised if we saw one before reaching Yale. They are quite commonly seen."
"And you say," said Jack, "that they are never disturbed?"
"Absolutely never," said Mr. Hunter. "Indians would suffer great privations before taking food belonging to other people, because they know to take away this food might mean starvation to the owners. Of course if an absolutely starving outfit of Indians found a cache they might take from it a little food, perhaps enough to carry them on for a day or two along their road; but if they did, they would leave some sign at the cache to say who had taken the food, and they would feel bound, at some later day, whenever it were possible, to return what they had taken with good interest."
By this time the day was well advanced, and a little later Mr. Hunter pointed to a few dilapidated buildings standing near the river and said: "There is all that's left of the town of Hope. The situation is a beautiful one, in a wide bottom; but there is no life in the settlement. It is from this point on the river that the trail starts for Kootenay about five hundred miles distant, and all the mail and express matters used to leave from here. The town was founded in the early days of the mining excitement, when it was thought that the diggings of the Fraser were inexhaustible. People used to think that this would be a great town, and there was an active speculation in building lots, but as the washing on the lower river ceased to pay, the tide of emigration passed on. Hope was left behind, and the owners of town lots will have to wait a long time for their money. At the same time, when the railroad is finished it will of course pass through Hope or near it, and there may be a future for the place; but that will depend upon agriculture and not on mining."
A little later in the day the steamer tied up to the bank at Yale. It was quite a large town, spread out at the foot of a great mountain, and it seemed to have the characteristics of all western railroad towns. It was from here that the Canadian Pacific Railroad was being built eastward, and Yale was thus the supply point and the locality where all the laborers employed on the road congregated during holidays. To Jack the place seemed as cosmopolitan almost as San Francisco. He recognized English, Scotch, and French; and noticed some Germans, Swedes, and some Americans; Indians and Chinese were numerous, and negroes jostled Mexican packers and muleteers; while there were many mixed bloods whose parentage could hardly be determined from their countenances.
Jack learned that a stage ran from Yale to Lytton, where the river is again practicable for steamers, and that this was the route taken by persons going to the mines at Cariboo.
Mr. Hunter, knowing Jack's interest in birds, took him to see a taxidermist who had a considerable collection of bird skins brought together from the immediate neighborhood. Here he saw many eastern and western birds, the most interesting of which were the evening grosbeak, the pine grosbeak, and a species of gray crowned finch. By the time the birds had been inspected the sun had set and they returned to their quarters at the hotel.
Immediately after breakfast next morning, Jack, Hugh, and Mr. James walked along the railroad two or three miles up the river and into the cañon. The scenery was very beautiful. The walls of the cañon were nearly vertical, the stream tearing along between them at a high rate of speed. Just at the entrance of the cañon stands a high rock or island, which divides the current into two streams of nearly equal size. On a flat rock they all sat down, and while the two older men filled their pipes and smoked Mr. James told Jack the story of this rock.
"Of course you understand," he said, "that the salmon has always been the most important food of the year to the Fraser River Indians. It supplies them with their winter food, and indeed with provisions for almost the entire year. To them, as to almost all the Indians along this coast, the salmon is the staple food, just as back on the plains the buffalo is what the Indians there depend upon. Just as back in that country the buffalo is somewhat a sacred animal, so here the salmon are in a degree sacred; and just as back there the Indians perform certain ceremonies when they are going out to make a big hunt, so here the capture of the first salmon is celebrated with religious ceremony."
Hugh nodded and said, "I guess Indians are alike the whole continent over."
"Well," said Mr. James, "each summer the first fish that came up the river and was taken, was regarded not as belonging to the person who took it but to the Good Spirit; I suppose that means the chief god. As soon as caught, therefore, it was to be taken to the chief of the tribe, and delivered into his keeping. A young girl was then chosen and after having been purified, she was stripped naked and all over her body were marked crossed lines in red paint, which represented the meshes of the net. She was then taken to the water's edge and with solemn ceremonies the net marks were washed off. This was supposed to make the people's nets fortunate. Prayers were made to the Good Spirit and the salmon was then cut up into small pieces, a portion was sacrificed, and the remainder was divided into still smaller pieces, one of which was given to each individual of those present. This, Squawitch tells me, was the regular annual custom. Now, about this rock. One season the people had eaten all their food and had gathered here at the river for the fishing, but as yet no fish had been caught, and they were starving. It happened that the first salmon caught was taken by a woman, and she being very hungry, said nothing about its capture but at once devoured it. This was a crime and for it she was changed by the Good Spirit into this rock, which was thrown into the river where we see it now, to remain there forever as a memorial of her offence, and a warning to others."
"My, that's a good story, Mr. James," said Jack.
"Yes," said Hugh, "that's a sure enough Indian story."
The pipes being knocked out they started on up the river. Just above the first tunnel Jack saw on a stage down near the water's edge, an old Indian fishing with a purse net, and as it seemed, catching a salmon at every sweep he made. This was too much for Jack to resist, so he clambered down the rocks to the Indian's stage. After watching him for a little while, and noticing closely how he handled the net, Jack took from his pocket a quarter and held it out to the Indian, at the same time reaching out his hand for the net. The Indian gave it to him readily enough, and began to dress the fish he had already caught, while Jack stepping out on the stage over the water, began to sweep the net through the current just as the Indian had done. At the first sweep he felt something strike the net and loosened the string. He raised the net and—with some difficulty, for it was big—brought up to the stage a great ten pound salmon. He reached the net back to the Indian to take the fish from it; and, then spreading it again, he repeated the operation. In ten minutes he had caught nearly as many salmon, all of which were about the same size. No doubt the Indian would have been willing to have him fish all day for him, but his two companions, on the railroad track above, were getting impatient and called to him. Jack gave back the net to the Indian, climbed up the bank and overtook his companions, all three then going on up the track. It was an interesting experience, and one that not many people have enjoyed.
On their return to town Hugh asked Mr. James if there was any one in the town, so far as he knew, that had ever crossed the mountains to the head of the Peace River, and followed that stream down to the eastward.
Mr. James thought for a moment or two, and then said: "Why, of course. I know just the man, and I can take you to him. It's old man McClellan. He used to be an old Hudson Bay man, and has travelled all over the country. I am very sure that I have heard him tell about making that trip across the mountains."
A little inquiry brought them to Mr. McClellan's store. They found him a hardy old Scotchman who seemed glad to give them such information as he could. He told them about the streams that they must go up to reach the head of the Peace River, and that there was a two days' portage between the two waters, those flowing east into the Hudson Bay, and those west into the Pacific.
"The distance is not so great," he said, "but it's a rough country and ye'll have to go slowly, but it is a fine country to travel through; lots of game, moose, caribou, and mountain goats, and plenty of fish. Ye'll never have to starve there."
"Well," said Hugh, "I don't know as we'll ever be able to make that trip, but I've often thought about it and wanted to. One time, a good many years ago, I got hold of the travels of Alexander McKenzie, the man who found the frozen ocean, and he crossed the mountains from Hudson Bay to the Pacific Ocean, and I have always thought that I would like to make that trip myself, but I am getting old now for trips. I can't get around as easy as I could twenty years ago."
"Pshaw, man," said the old Hudson Bay voyager, "never talk like that! You're good for many years of travel yet. Faith, I'd like to take that trip with you, if you don't put it off too long. It's a fine country, and I'd like to go through it again."
That evening at the hotel they saw Mr. Hunter, who told them that he had communicated with the people at Hope, and had found that it would be easy for them to get a packer and an Indian guide and horses to go off on the hunting trip if they wished to. The outfit could be ready to start to-morrow morning if they felt like it. Jack and Hugh thought this would be a good thing to do, and got from Mr. Hunter the name of the man at Hope who could give them the desired information and assistance. They asked Mr. James if he would not join them on the hunt, but his business required him to return to New Westminster at once. It was determined, then, that all should start on the boat at three o'clock the next morning, Jack and Hugh getting off at Hope and trying to make a start for the sheep country that same morning.
It was still dark when the boat started, and except Jack, Hugh, and Mr. James, all the passengers promptly disposed themselves to sleep for a time. The captain had promised to stop at Hope and let the two hunters off, and their bags and blankets were all piled near the gangplank to be rushed off at a moment's notice. In little more than an hour the boat whistled, slowed down, and drew up close to the bank; the wheel was reversed until the boat lay up close to the wharf, the gangplank was run out, Hugh and Jack shook hands with Mr. James and ran ashore, each carrying his bag and gun, while two of the deck-hands followed with their rolls of blankets, tossed them to them on the ground, and then rushed back. The gangplank was drawn in, the boat whistled and started up, soon disappearing around a bend.
Meanwhile, two white men and two Indians had approached them and accosted Hugh. The older of the two white men introduced himself as John Ryder, with whom Mr. Hunter had communicated the day before.
"Your animals are all ready, Mr. Johnson," he said; "and all we have to do is to buy provisions and pack the loads and start."
"Well," said Hugh, "that's just exactly what we want; and the sooner we get off the better it will please Mr. Danvers, here, and me. Where are your animals, and where can we get something to eat, and what time will the stores be open?"
"If you will come with me," said Ryder, "I will show you the hotel and the animals; and as soon as you have had your breakfast we can buy our supplies and start. These Indians here will carry up your things."
"Very good," said Hugh, "they may as well take the blankets to the corral, wherever that is; and we'll take the bags and guns with us."
Ryder conducted them to the hotel where, as yet, no one was awake; and then, followed by Hugh and Jack went to the corral where there were a dozen horses. The outfit seemed a good one; the animals strong and fat. Ryder proposed to take six pack animals, three with saw bucks, and three with aparejos. Hugh and Jack looked over the riggings, which seemed in good order; and then they all returned to the hotel. After a talk with Ryder it was arranged that they should take Ryder, a boy to wrangle the horses, and an Indian who professed to know the hunting country. These with the six packs would make eleven animals.
"It's more than I counted on taking," said Hugh, "but perhaps it's better to take a horse or two extra rather than sit around for two or three days and fuss over it. We won't save in money and we'll lose quite a little time."
By ten o'clock the provisions had been purchased and made up into convenient packs. Ryder was to furnish a tent and cook-outfit, and got the things together at the corral. Then Hugh, Jack, and Ryder and his assistant in a very short time packed all the horses except those which were to carry the provisions. These were taken down to the store and left there, and before noon the packed train, with Ryder in the lead, went out of Hope and struck up across the divide between Nicolume and the head of the Skagit River. For some distance they followed the old wagon road which leads up between high steep mountains, through beautiful scenery. The cedars and firs were grand, the mountains towered high and were streaked with white dykes, and the gulches and ravines where deciduous trees grew, were bright with the red of the mountain maples. Toward night they reached a place called Lake House, a cabin on the edge of a wide meadow—marshy with some standing water and surrounded by willows and alders. Here Jack set up his rod and caught a few fairly good trout weighing nearly half a pound apiece, and many little ones which he threw back. Hugh came up to see how he was getting along; and soon they went back to the camp together.
In the morning everything was wet, for there had been a very heavy dew. They got off in good season and after stopping once or twice to tighten, as the ropes grew dry, they went on and made good time.
During the morning they passed two or three pack trains, the animals of which were loaded with long boxes whose contents neither Hugh nor Jack could guess; but at the first opportunity they asked Ryder, who explained to them what these boxes contained.
"You see," he said, "it seems that every Chinaman, when he dies wants to go back and be buried in his own country; and they make arrangements before they die that they shall be taken back. I believe one Chinaman here has the contract of sending back all British Columbian Chinese, and he sublets the job, it being understood that the various subcontractors will deliver the bodies at certain specified places. Sometimes a Chinese is shipped soon after he dies, sometimes not for three or four years. They seal them up in zinc cases about six feet long and two feet wide and put these cases in crates of wood. These they pack lengthwise of the horse, making for them a sort of platform which rests on an aparejo. The long cases project forward from the horse's neck and back over his hips, and are pretty hard on their backs; but they ride well enough after the ropes have been thrown over them."
Not long after leaving the Lake House the wagon road came to an end, and then for a while the trail followed down the Skagit River. All day the way led through the mountains, and all day the trail kept climbing higher, so that when they camped that night Ryder said that the altitude was about five thousand feet. All day long every one was busy hurrying the horses along, and no time was taken for hunting. That night there was a heavy frost, and when they awoke the next morning, it was very cold. Five of the horses were lost, and it took some time to recover four of them, and then they moved on, leaving one behind, which, however, turned up later and was brought along. This also was a day of climbing, for they passed over a mountain about seven thousand feet high. Several times Jack and Hugh heard the familiar call of the little chief, or rock hare, so familiar an inhabitant of the slide rock of all the mountains of the main divide.
That night they camped on a creek called Whipsaw, and as there was no grass at the camp for the horses, they were turned out to the mountain side to feed. After they had got into camp, Ryder told Jack that on the creek, a couple of miles below the trail, there was a deer lick; and suggested that they should go down and try to kill a deer, as fresh meat was needed. They went down and found a spot where animals had evidently been at work gnawing and licking the saline clay; but, though there were abundant signs all about, no deer were seen.
The next day after passing through a beautiful open country dotted with great pines, whose cinnamon-colored trunks rose fifty to sixty feet from the ground without a branch, they reached Alison's on the Smilkameen. Here they stopped for a little while. Mrs. Alison, a very intelligent and kindly woman, took great pride in showing Jack and Hugh the children's pets—a great horned owl, a sparrow hawk just from the nest, some attractive green-winged teal and mallards caught young, and a tame magpie which talked remarkably well and spoke the names of two of the children—"Alfreda" and "Caroline"—very plainly.
Keeping on down the river, they camped below Alison's. The way down the river was beautiful, for on either hand rose high, steep, slide rock mountains, marked with sheep and goat trails, criss-crossing in every direction. Here and there along the stream stood an Indian cabin.
"I tell you, son," said Hugh, "We're in a game country now, or what has been a game country. In times past there have been a heap of sheep on these mountain sides here. You see their trails running everywhere. Of course, when a sheep trail is once made in the slide rock it lasts just about forever, unless there is some slip of rock on a mountain side and the rocks roll down and cover it up."
That night the Indian, Baptiste, confirmed what Hugh had said. Ryder interpreted for him, saying that sheep and goats were plenty near here and that to-morrow they would hunt.
"In spring," Baptiste said, "when ploughing the land, I often see goats far down on the cliffs close to the river, but as summer advances and it grows warm and the flies become troublesome, the goats gradually work up to the tops of the mountains. There they paw holes in the earth, in which they stand and stamp; and sometimes wallow and roll to get rid of the flies."
"All right," said Hugh, "we will see what Baptiste can show us to-morrow."
"The way that Indian talks," he added, "sounds to me just like Kutenai. I have heard a lot of Kutenais talk in the Blackfeet camps, and elsewhere, and I would like to know if this Baptiste is a Kutenai."
"I guess not," said Ryder; "he's a Smilkameen."
"Ask him," said Hugh, "if the Smilkameens and Kutenais are relations."
The answer, given through Ryder, was "No."
"Ask him," said Hugh, "if their languages are alike."
Baptiste replied: "Yes, the two languages are not quite the same, but they sound alike." He added: "In the same way the tongue spoken by the Okanagan Indians is much like my language."
Hugh shook his head and said: "That may be so, but I don't feel a bit sure about it. Often it's very hard to make an Indian understand what you're trying to get at, even if you can speak his own language; but after it has to go through two or three interpreters there's a big chance of a misunderstanding somewhere."
"Well, Hugh," said Jack, "what shall we do to-morrow? Go on farther or stop here and hunt? I understand that Baptiste says that there are plenty of goats hereabouts, and if we want some we can easily get them."
"Well," said Hugh, "we need some meat and we might just as well stop here for a day if you think best and see whether we can kill a kid or two, or a dry nanny. You know I don't think much of goat meat; and yet, of course, it's meat, and good for a change from bacon. I'll ask Baptiste what the prospects are."
Calling up Ryder, Hugh had begun to question Baptiste, when, out of the darkness, another Indian stepped up to the fire and saluted the white men in pretty fair English. A little talk with him developed that he was Tom, a brother of Baptiste. After a few questions Baptiste and Tom both agreed that there was every opportunity to kill goats here. Tom said that in the early summer he often saw them from the trail, as he was travelling back and forth. It was finally decided that they should stop here for one day and make a hunt and then proceed to the sheep country.
The next morning Baptiste, Tom, Hugh, and Jack started on foot up a small creek which came out of the hills near Baptiste's house. The way was steep and narrow and they had followed the stream up two or three miles before any pause was made. Two or three times the glass revealed white objects, which close observations showed to be weather-beaten logs. Suddenly Tom stopped and declared that he saw a goat. The white men all looked through their glasses and declared that it was a stump, but after going a little further and looking at it again it appeared that the white men had been looking at the wrong object, and that Tom's goat was lying on the ledge in plain sight. After going a little farther along another goat was discovered high on the hillside, a little below the first and quite close to it. They were six or seven hundred yards away and close to the creek. To approach them it would be necessary to go up the stream to a point well above them, and then to climb the mountains on which they were, get above them, and then come down behind a point which would apparently be within shooting distance of them.
Before they reached the point where the creek must be crossed, Hugh said to Jack: "Now, son, you go with Tom and try to get these goats, and I will take Baptiste and go farther up the stream and climb that high hill you see. I may get a shot there, and you have a good chance here."
Jack crossed the stream with Tom and they tugged up the side of the mountain, which was very steep and much obstructed by fallen timber. Two or three times Jack had to sit down and puff for breath, for it was nearly a year now since he had done much in the way of climbing stiff mountains, but Tom seemed tireless. At last Tom declared that they had climbed high enough above the goats to make it safe to work along the mountain side to the point above them. The hillside was more or less broken with ravines and all of these were rough with slide rock and fallen timber. They had just reached the edge of one of these gulches and had stopped for a moment's rest when the highest of the goats, which they could now see below them, came running up out of the timber from below to where the other goat was lying. This one got up, and it was then seen that there were four goats, two old ones and two kids; and all began to move up the mountain side. Evidently something had frightened them. They had not seen Jack or Tom, nor smelt them, but were looking down into the valley. They moved off along the mountain side going up diagonally, and Jack and Tom watched them until they disappeared behind some ledges. Then the two set off after them as hard as they could go. It was pretty wild travelling across the gulches, but when they came out onto the ledges where the goats had gone, the footing was easier and the going better. They followed the ledges for some little distance, keeping to a goat trail. In this trail were seen now and then tracks where something had just passed along, but there were no hoof marks. The trail was too hard for that, but every now and then a place would be seen where some animal had stepped on a stone and partly turned it over, or where the moss was knocked from a stone where a hoof had struck it but a very short time before. They kept along the trail, passing through some low timber and presently came out again onto the ledges, and there—hardly forty feet away from them stood three goats. One of them was clambering up a little ravine and just about to disappear behind the rocks, the other two, a mother and her kid, stood on a rock, looking up the mountain side.
"Shoot!" said Tom, "Shoot!" Jack fired two shots at the nearest goat and kid, and both of them fell off the rock they had been standing on and began to roll down the hillside.
Tom gave a wild whoop of joy and shouted, "Good shoot! Good shoot!" and then asked Jack if he wanted to kill the other, but Jack said "No," these two were enough, and they started down the hill to get the game. The animals had rolled a long way, but at length they found them, took off the skins, and took what meat they needed. Tom went down the stream, and cutting some long shoots of a tough shrub, he worked them back and forth, partly splintering them, and made from them two rather stiff ropes which he tied together with a knot. With these he made up a pack of the skins and meat, put the load on his back, and they started for the camp. When they reached the trail down the valley they sat down for some time and waited for Hugh and Baptiste; but, as they did not come, after some hours' waiting, Tom took his pack on his back and they went on to the camp. While they were waiting, Jack inquired of Tom as to the names of the sheep and goats, and Tom said, as nearly as Jack could make out, that in the Smilkameen tongue, the male mountain sheep was called "shwillops," while the ewe was called "yehhahlahkin." The goat in Smilkameen was called "shogkhlit," while the Port Hope Indians called goat "p'kalakal."
Tom said that farther on, in the country to which they were going, there were many sheep.
An hour after Jack and Tom had reached camp, Hugh and Baptiste returned, bearing the skin of a two-year-old male goat, which had been killed on the other side of the mountain they had climbed. It had been a hard tramp and a long stalk.
That night as they talked about game and hunting, Baptiste said that at the head of the Okanagan Lake caribou were very plenty. The distance from where they were would be about eighty or ninety miles.
The next morning while Jack was preparing the goat skins for packing up, he was much surprised to find the ears of the goats full of wood ticks. In one of the ears he counted no less than twenty ticks, and some of them were so deep down in the ear that when he was skinning the head he saw the ticks as he cut off the ears. He wondered whether this might not account in some part at least for the apparent inattention of goats to sounds. He asked Baptiste about this, but got no particularly satisfactory answer to his question; and he thought perhaps the Indian did not understand him, but Baptiste did say distinctly that sometimes ticks got into ears of human beings and made them deaf.
While Jack was attending to his goat skins, Hugh and Tom went off to another mountain to look for sheep. A little bunch of seven were found lying down in an excellent position. There was no wind and a careful stalk was made; but just as the two got up to within shooting distance a light breeze began to blow from them to the sheep, and at the very instant that Hugh was pulling his trigger at a ram that was lying down, the bunch smelt them and sprang to their feet. It was too late for Hugh to hold his fire, and instead of killing the ram he cut a little tuft of hair from the brisket. In an instant the whole bunch of sheep were out of sight. Hugh came into camp much depressed and related his adventure to Jack.
"I expect, son," he said, "that that Indian thinks you can shoot all around me. All the way coming home, after I missed that sheep, he kept telling me what a good and careful shot you were. He said he had taken out many white men to hunt, but he never saw anybody that shot as straight and as carefully as you."
Jack laughed and said: "He little knows the difference between you and me, Hugh, in matters of shooting. Anybody could have hit those goats, for they gave me all the time there was, and they weren't more than forty yards away. It was like shooting at the side of a barn."
"Well," said Hugh, "of course if I had known that those sheep were going to jump up, I could easily have fired quicker but I thought I had all the time there was and I intended to shoot so that that ram would never get up; but I never could explain it to that Indian, you bet."
"Oh," said Jack, "he will have plenty of time to see you shoot later on, I expect."
The next morning the train was packed early and they started on. Baptiste led the way, Jack followed him, and Hugh and Tom came behind. Ryder brought up the rear and watched the animals. An hour or two after, two blue grouse were startled from the trail and flew up into the tall trees where they stood on the great limbs with outstretched necks.
"Hugh," said Jack, "give Tom an idea of your shooting."
"Why, what's the use," said Hugh, "wasting two cartridges on those birds. This kid meat is good enough."
"No," said Jack, "I want to have Tom see you cut those birds' heads off."
"Well," said Hugh, "all right, if you wish me to." Drawing his horse a little out of the trail, but not dismounting, he fired two shots which brought down the two grouse. Tom was sent for them, brought them in, and found that in each case the bullet had cut off the bird's neck. The Indian looked at the birds rather solemnly and then at Hugh, and then shook his head as if he could not understand how the man who could miss the sheep the day before should have been able to make these two shots. Jack laughed at him and said: "Good shot, eh, Tom?" Tom declared that the shot was good.
One day's journey brought the party to the Ashnola Country, a region of high rounded hills, over which farther back from the river rose still higher peaks and precipices of rocks. It is a country of beautiful scenery and abounded in game. A large lick, where animals had been licking and gnawing the earth until great hollows had been dug in it, was seen; and farther along as they travelled up the trail on the south side of the creek they saw a number of sheep working down on to a cut bank, which was evidently a lick. Before the sheep were noticed they had seen the party and there was then no opportunity to hunt them. The animals were only three or four hundred yards away and were not alarmed. Later in the day, on another cut bank, another band of fifteen sheep was seen at a lick and might have been easily approached but the party did not stop. All these sheep were ewes and lambs. That night the train climbed pretty well up a mountain and came on a little bench seven or eight hundred feet above the main stream, where they camped. The country seemed to be full of sheep, for Jack, going out to look for water, came across a band on a grassy hillside, but too far off to be shot at.
The camp was a pleasant one in a little group of pines with water not far off, and the hillsides covered with admirable grazing for the animals. After supper, Baptiste and Tom told them that three or four miles back in the hills were high rocky peaks where many sheep were to be found, and it was determined that the next day they should visit these hills. The Indians said that it was possible to get up there with horses, but that the trail was steep and hard. Jack and Hugh, after talking the matter over and counting up the days and realizing that two days later it would be necessary for them to start back to the coast, determined that instead of taking their animals they would carry their blankets on their backs and would visit these hills, camp there, and have a look at the country, and then would return to camp and thence to Hope.
The next morning they were off early, accompanied by the two Indians, while Ryder was left to look after the animals.