Kamloops--We discover true Happiness--The Fort and surrounding
Country--The Adventures of the Emigrants who preceded us--
Catastrophe at the Grand Rapid--Horrible Fate of Three
Canadians--Cannibalism--Practicability of a Road by the Yellow
Head Pass--Various Routes from Tête Jaune Cache--Advantages of
the Yellow Head Pass, contrasted with those to the South--The
Future Highway to the Pacific--Return of Mr. McKay--Mr. O’B.
sets out alone--The Murderers--The Shushwaps of Kamloops--
Contrast between them and the Indians East of the Rocky
Mountains--Mortality--The Dead Unburied--Leave Kamloops--
Strike the Wagon Road from the Mines--Astonishment of The
Assiniboine Family--The remarkable Terraces of the Thompson
and Fraser--Their great Extent: contain Gold--Connection with
the Bunch-grass--The Road along the Thompson--Cook’s Ferry--
The Drowned Murderer--Rarity of Crime in the Colony--The most
Wonderful Road in the World--The Old Trail--Pack-Indians--
Indian mode of catching Salmon--Gay Graves--The Grand Scenery
of the Cañons--Probable Explanation of the Formation of the
Terraces--Yale--Hope and Langley--New Westminster--Mr.
O’B. turns up again--Mount Baker--The Islands of the Gulf of
Georgia--Victoria, Vancouver Island.
The sun was high when we turned out on the 29th of August. After a
substantial breakfast we crossed over to the Fort, which is situated on
the opposite side of the river. Here we were most hospitably received
by Mr. Martin and Mr. Burgess, who were in charge during the absence of
the chief trader, Mr. McKay. The first thing we did after our arrival
was to obtain a suit of clothes apiece from the store, and proceed to
the river, where we had a delightful bathe. We threw our rags into
the Thompson, donned our new attire, and then enjoyed the _otium cum
dignitate_ to our hearts’ content, and over grateful pipes inquired
the news--not of the day--but of the past year. Great events had
occurred during our seclusion from the world. We heard for the first
time of the marriage of the Prince of Wales, the Polish insurrection,
the prospect of war between Denmark and Prussia, the progress of the
American contest. But although this was delightful enough, it was
not the greatest pleasure we enjoyed. The height of happiness--we
say it advisedly, yet knowing the contempt which must overwhelm us:
it is true, oh, philosopher; it is true, dear lady, with strong mind
and spectacles, wearer of cerulean hose--the height of happiness was
eating and drinking! Deal with us gently, sour ascetics and stern
divines abhorring the carnal, and corpulent, virtuous magistrates who
sit in judgment on miserable creatures driven into sin by starvation--
_expertis credite_. Have we not thousands on our side in this great
city who daily hunger?--not to mention a few aldermen and a well-fed
bishop or two to back us on principle? Talk not to us of intellectual
raptures; the mouth and stomach are the doors by which enter true
delight. Mutton chops, potatoes, bread, butter, milk, rice pudding,
tea, and sugar: contrast dried horse-flesh and water, or martens, or
nothing at all, with these luxuries! The ordinary bountiful meals of
the Fort were quite inadequate for our satisfaction, and we managed
to interpolate three more by rising early in the morning, before the
good people of the Fort were up, and breakfasting with Mr. and Mrs.
Assiniboine, who dwelt in the tent hard by, secretly visiting them
again between breakfast and dinner, dinner and supper. We rested
from eating only from a sense of repletion, not from any decrease of
appetite. Under this active treatment our meagre bodies rapidly waxed
gross, and three weeks afterwards Cheadle made the astounding discovery
that he had gained forty-one pounds since his arrival at Kamloops!
The Hudson’s Bay Company’s Fort at Kamloops is situated on the south
bank of the Thompson, a few hundred yards below the junction of the
northern with the southern branch. Opposite the Fort the two streams
flow distinct in a common channel, the turbid, glacier-fed river from
the north contrasting with the limpid waters of the other, like the
Missouri after its junction with the Mississippi. The Shushwap branch
of the Thompson coming from the south turns to the west, to enter the
Shushwap lake, and flows in the same direction to Kamloops, below which
its waters are rendered muddy by the accession of the northern branch.
Seven miles below, the river expands into Lake Kamloops, and issues
from thence again clear and pellucid, to be lost at Lytton in the muddy
and turbulent Fraser.
The country round Kamloops is of the Californian character before
described. Rolling hills, covered with bunch-grass and scattered pines,
rise in every direction. The pasturage is very rich and extensive, and
large bands of horses, herds of cattle, and flocks of sheep, are kept
here by the Hudson’s Bay Company.
During our stay here, and in our subsequent travels through British
Columbia, we met some of the emigrants who had crossed the mountains
the year before, and heard the history of their adventures. It will
be remembered that when the first and principal body left Tête Jaune
Cache, they divided, one party making large rafts there to descend the
Fraser, whilst the others sought the head waters of the North Thompson.
Those who went down the Fraser, after much suffering and many mishaps,
eventually arrived at the Mouth of Quesnelle, having lost one of their
number, who sank from disease induced by hardship and exposure. The
party who followed the Thompson, about sixty in number, after vainly
endeavouring to cut their way to Cariboo, turned south, in order to try
and reach Kamloops.
In a few days their provisions gave out, and their progress had been so
slow and difficult that they gave up in despair the design of making
their way by land. At “Slaughter Camp” they killed their oxen and dried
the meat; then built large rafts, on which they embarked, abandoning
all their horses, amounting to between forty and fifty.
The Assiniboine had rightly interpreted the signs of their trail. All
went well with the voyageurs until they reached the Grand Rapid. The
men on the leading rafts did not perceive the danger until too late
to avoid it. The rafts were sucked into the rapids in spite of all
their efforts, and many of the unfortunate people drowned. Those who
followed were warned in time by the fate of their companions, and
succeeded in reaching the shore in safety. They had now to cut their
way along the precipitous banks which proved so difficult to us, but as
they landed on the opposite side of the river, we did not come across
their trail. After reaching the end of the Grand Rapid (Murchison’s
Rapids) they again made rafts, and, shooting the lower rapids safely,
arrived in wretched plight at Kamloops.
The third party, consisting of five Canadians--three brothers named
Rennie, and two others, Helstone and Wright--crossed later in the
autumn, and obtained canoes at the Cache to descend the Fraser. The
Shushwaps there had informed us that they had discovered the canoes
lying bottom upwards, and their property strewn along the shore, below
some rapids, and believed that the whole party had been drowned. But
three of their number met with a far more horrible fate than this. We
now learnt that, in order to shoot the dangerous rapids with greater
safety, they had lashed the two canoes together; but in spite of this
precaution the boats were swamped. Two of the Rennies succeeded in
reaching the shore, and the other three men a rock in the middle of
the stream. For two days and nights the latter remained exposed to
the bitter cold of the commencing winter, without a morsel of food,
before their companions were able to effect their release. A rope was
at last passed to the rock, and the men hauled ashore, half dead with
hunger, and fearfully frost-bitten. They were so helpless as to be
quite unable to proceed further, and the two Rennies, having cut a
quantity of fire-wood, and given them almost the whole of their scanty
stock of provisions, set out on foot to seek assistance at Fort George,
which they calculated on reaching in six days. But they had under-rated
the distance; their path lay through dense encumbered forests, and
the snow had fallen to considerable depth before they reached the
Fort, frost-bitten, and almost dead from hunger and exhaustion, after
twenty-eight days’ travelling. Indians were immediately sent out to
the assistance of the unfortunate men left behind, but returned in a
few days, declaring the snow was too deep for them to proceed. Other
Indians, however, discovered the party some time afterwards. Helstone
and Wright were still alive, but, maddened by hunger, had killed
Rennie. When they were found they had eaten all but his legs, which
they held in their hands at the time. They were covered with blood,
being engaged in tearing the raw flesh from the bones with their teeth.
The Indians attempted to light a fire for them, when the two cannibals
drew their revolvers, and looked so wild and savage, that the Indians
fled and left them to their fate, not daring to return. The following
spring a party of miners, on their way to Peace River, were guided
by Indians to the place where these men were seen by them. The bones
of two were found piled in a heap, one skull had been split open by
an axe, and many of the other bones showed the marks of teeth. The
third was missing, but was afterwards discovered a few hundred yards
from the camp. The skull had been cloven by an axe, and the clothes
stripped from the body, which was little decomposed. The interpretation
of these signs could hardly be mistaken. The last survivor had killed
his fellow-murderer and eaten him, as shown by the gnawed bones so
carefully piled in a heap. He had in turn probably been murdered by
Indians, for the principal part of the dead men’s property was found in
their possession.
The fourth band of emigrants--the party of three who preceded us by a
few days in the journey across the mountains, and descended the Fraser
in canoes under the guidance of the two old Shushwaps from The Cache--
reached Fort George without any serious misadventure.
Whilst taking our ease at Kamloops it may be well to consider the
question of the practicability of a road across the mountains by the
Yellow Head, or Leather Pass. The necessity for opening a communication
between the eastern and western sides of the Rocky Mountains, and
the advantages of a route across the continent which passes through
British territory, will, we apprehend, appear clearly enough upon a
more intimate acquaintance with the resources and requirements of
British Columbia. At present we wish merely to show that a road might
be constructed by the Yellow Head Pass without any great difficulty,
and that this route is in many respects superior to others hitherto
more generally known. In the first place, then, we may safely state
that, with the exception of one or two rocky and precipitous bluffs--
few and trifling obstructions, compared with those which have been
so successfully overcome in making the road along the Fraser--there
are no engineering difficulties of any importance. From the Red River
Settlement to Edmonton, about 800 miles, the road lies through a
fertile and park-like country, and an excellent cart trail already
exists. From Edmonton to Jasper House, a distance of about 400 miles,
the surface is slightly undulating, the lower ground universally
swampy, and everywhere covered with thick forest. There is little
doubt that a better trail than the one at present used might be found
for this portion of the way, by keeping to the higher ground, for the
pioneers of the Hudson’s Bay Company sought the swamps in the first
instance, as offering fewer impediments to their progress, on account
of their being less heavily timbered. From Jasper House to Tête Jaune
Cache--the pass through the main ridge of the Rocky Mountains, about
100 or 120 miles in length--a wide break in the chain, running
nearly east and west, offers a natural roadway, unobstructed except
by timber. The rivers, with the exception of the Athabasca and the
Fraser, are small and fordable; even at their highest. The ascent to
the height of land is very gradual, and, indeed, hardly perceptible;
the level only 3,760 feet above the sea;[11] and the descent on the
western slope, although more rapid, is neither steep nor difficult.
From The Cache the road might be carried in almost a straight line to
Richfield, in Cariboo, lying nearly due west; the western extremity
of the pass, Tête Jaune Cache, being in latitude 52 deg. 58 min.,[12]
and Richfield in latitude nearly 53 deg. 3 min. 9 sec.[13] The region
to be traversed is mountainous and densely wooded, but the distance is
not more than ninety miles, according to the recent calculation of Dr.
Rae, which agrees with the six days’ journey, the estimate given us
by the Shushwaps of The Cache; and a road has already been made from
the Mouth of Quesnelle, on the Fraser, to Richfield, through similar
country. This would, therefore, complete the line of communication
through Cariboo to Victoria. An easier route might, perhaps, be found
by following the Canoe River, which is situate about twenty miles
south of The Cache, to its source in the Cariboo district, but nothing
is known of the country between Tête Jaune Cache and Cariboo, beyond
the general view of mountain and forest seen from Richfield and The
Cache. A third line offers itself by following the North Thompson to
the point where the Wentworth River enters it, about eighty miles north
of Kamloops. This stream, the Shushwaps informed us, came from the
Cariboo Lake, and passed through a tolerably open region. And lastly,
a road could be made down the valley of the Thompson to Kamloops, from
whence the Shushwap, Okanagan, and Kootanie districts--where diggings
of the richest kind have lately been discovered--and the road on the
Fraser, are easily accessible. From The Cache to within eighty miles of
Kamloops the only way lies through a succession of narrow gorges, shut
in on each side by lofty and inaccessible mountains. The whole of this
is obstructed by growing and fallen timber, generally of the largest
size; but the fact of our success in bringing our horses through
without any previous track being cut open, proves sufficiently that
there are no serious obstacles in the way of an engineer. There are no
great ascents or descents, and no bluffs of solid rock occur until the
last forty miles, where the country is otherwise open and unobstructed.
The flooding of the river by the melted snows from the mountains does
not interfere with the passage along the valley, for we traversed it
at the season when the waters are at the highest. The most serious
difficulty to the adoption of a route by Jasper House would be the want
of pasturage for cattle. The patches of open are few on the eastern
side, and although larger and more numerous within the mountains, on
the western side the forest is unbroken for above a hundred miles.
Of the passes to the south, all, with the exception of the Vermilion
Pass,[14] descend abruptly on the west through rugged and difficult
country. The Vermilion Pass, which is the lowest, is 4,944 feet above
the level of the sea, or above 1,000 feet higher than the Leather Pass;
and although Dr. Hector states[15] that a road might be constructed
across it without material difficulty, it is open to the same objection
as the rest, that it communicates with the valley of the Columbia,
far to the south of the gold regions of Cariboo, passes through the
battle-ground of the Crees and Blackfeet, and is in unsafe proximity to
the American frontier.
The principal advantages to be urged in favour of the southern passes,
appear to be that they communicate with more open country on either
side, that pasturage is plentiful along the road, and that from their
lower latitude they are liable to be blocked up by snow for a somewhat
shorter period. Against these the claims of the route by Jasper House
may be briefly summed up as follows:--First, it offers the most direct
line from Canada to Cariboo, communicating with the road on the Fraser
by the shortest route, since Tête Jaune Cache is in latitude 52 deg. 58
min., Richfield Cariboo in latitude 53 deg. 3 min. 9 sec.[16] Secondly,
it is the only one which will afford easy communication with _all_ the
gold districts of British Columbia. Thirdly, it passes entirely through
a country inhabited only by peaceable and friendly Indians. Fourthly,
it is the easiest, lying only 3,760 feet above the sea,[17] with a
gradual slope on either side; and lastly, it lies four degrees north
of the American frontier. These considerations will, we imagine, cause
it to be eventually selected as the British highway to the Pacific;
and it is satisfactory to be able to state that Dr. Rae, who went out
in the spring of 1864 to discover the most suitable route for the
telegraph line which the Hudson’s Bay Company propose to carry across
the continent, decided upon taking it by the Yellow Head Pass, which
he surveyed as far as Tête Jaune Cache. We are permitted to remark
that his observations fully bear out the conclusion that there are no
serious obstacles to the formation of a road by this route from the
fertile belt of the Saskatchewan to British Columbia, as far as he
investigated it, viz., from Red River to The Cache.
After a day or two, Mr. McKay returned, and very kindly engaged to find
us horses and accompany us as far as Yale, the head of navigation on
the Fraser, if we would remain at Kamloops a few days longer. Mr. O’B.,
however, started at once for Victoria, eager to enjoy the pleasures
of a higher civilisation there. We must confess to a certain feeling
of regret at this, the first breaking up of the strange company who
had shared so many adventures together; and Mr. O’B. told us he bore
no ill-will, and would forgive and forget all his sufferings on the
journey. There were houses every six or seven miles along the road
from this point, and he set out, pack on back, without much fear of
danger before him. Yet, had he known that two men who had murdered
another coming down from the mines, were lurking in the neighbourhood,
he would have been very unhappy. One of these men was taken, a few days
afterwards, in the Bonaparte Valley; the other was supposed to have
crossed the Thompson, and to be lying concealed near Kamloops.
Our horses were so weak that we left them at Old St. Paul’s to recruit
for a few days, and then brought them across the river. This was nearly
fatal to poor Bucephalus, who was too exhausted to swim, and narrowly
escaped drowning in the passage. They soon improved on the rich
bunch-grass, and we made a present of them to The Assiniboine, for his
use in re-crossing by the Kootanie Pass next spring.
Numbers of Shushwaps frequented Kamloops, and their love of finery
made them very conspicuous amongst the roughly-dressed miners. The men
delighted in scarlet leggings, red sashes, and bright-coloured ribbons
in their caps; the women affected the gaudiest skirts, and the most
vivid-coloured handkerchiefs on their heads. They are beginning to
appreciate the advantages of agriculture, and grow potatoes with great
success; are keen traders, thoroughly acquainted with the value of
money, and by their labour alone as packmen, the miners were supplied
with necessaries for a long time, until a mule trail was cut open.
But although of superior industry to the Indians of the eastern side
of the Rocky Mountains, they compare very disadvantageously with them
in physique and intelligence, and presented many points of difference
from their relations we met at The Cache. They are of smaller stature
and less powerful build than the former; their faces are broader and
rounder; the cheek-bones higher; the nose smaller, less prominent, and
the nostrils more dilated. Their complexion is darker, and of a more
muddy, coppery hue than that of the true Red Indian, and their general
appearance so strange to our eyes when we first encountered a party
of them on our way down the North Thompson, that we never suspected
they were Indians, but took them for Mexicans, or some immigrants from
the east.[18] They are also talkative and mercurial, and exhibit none
of the dignity and conscious power which marks the Red Indian of the
plains.
The tradition of the origin of their tribes, existing amongst some of
the Indians of British Columbia, appears to be a curious confusion of
the Bible histories taught them by the Romish priests, who have been
established amongst them for upwards of a century. For the following
version we are indebted to Mr. Greville Mathew, registrar of the
colony:--A race of men existed upon the earth at the time when a
great flood came. It rained day and night week after week. The waters
rose rapidly, so that all were drowned except one man. He made haste
to reach higher ground, and ascended a lofty hill. Still it rained
ceaselessly, the waters covered the face of the land, and followed
this last Indian relentlessly as he retreated higher and higher up the
mountain side. At length he gained the very summit, and as he sat and
watched, the pursuing floods continued to approach. In hopeless despair
he prayed to the Great Spirit, who responded to his prayer by changing
the lower half of his body into stone, so that, when the advancing
waters surged up to him, he remained unmoved. They rose to his waist,
and then the rains ceased and the floods began to subside. Although
delighted with his unexpected escape, the solitary Indian was oppressed
with dismay by the reflection that he was the only survivor, and in his
distress again prayed to the Great Spirit to grant him a “Klootcheman,”
or squaw. He then fell asleep, and after a time awaking, found his
lower limbs restored to flesh and bone, and a beautiful “Klootcheman”
by his side. From this pair sprang the Indian tribes in British
Columbia. This is a striking instance of a fusion of the story of the
creation with that of the deluge; originally derived, no doubt, from
the early Romish missionaries, but by lapse of time having passed into
a tradition of the tribes, and suggests a source of error affecting
philology.
A fearful mortality has prevailed amongst them since the advent of the
whites, 300 having died in the neighbourhood of Kamloops alone from
small-pox the previous year. Their curious custom of leaving their dead
unburied, laid out in the open air, with all their property around
them, we observed on our journey to Kamloops, when, as the reader may
remember, we discovered many victims to the ravages of the pestilence.
Other diseases have been almost equally fatal, and before many years,
the once numerous natives of this country, although apparently easily
susceptible of a certain civilisation, will have diminished to a very
small company.
On the 8th of September we left Kamloops with Mr. McKay, and
accompanied by Mr. and Mrs. Assiniboine, the boy, and another Indian.
We had determined to take our friends down to Victoria, for, although
The Assiniboine had once visited the Red River Settlement, the woman
and boy had never seen anything more like a town than a Hudson’s Bay
Post. We crossed the Thompson at the foot of Kamloops Lake, which is
about twelve miles long and not more than half a mile in breadth, and
surrounded by fine rocky hills; then, leaving the river, we kept on to
the valley of the Bonaparte, where we struck the road from Cariboo to
Yale, as yet only partially completed. The Assiniboine and his wife
were both greatly astonished at the Queen’s highway, but the boy became
quite excited, exclaiming, whenever any person appeared in sight,
“Aiwarkaken! mina quatuck!” (By Jove! there’s another fellow!) But when
we encountered a real swell of the neighbourhood, driving a “buggy” and
pair, he was delighted beyond expression. We now followed the valley of
the Bonaparte until it joins that of the Thompson, viewing with wonder
the curious terraces which strike the eye of a stranger so oddly, and
give such a peculiar character to the scenery of the Thompson and the
Fraser. We first observed them on the North Thompson, some thirty or
forty miles above Kamloops, and they are invariably present all along
the main river until its junction with the Fraser at Lytton. On the
Fraser they stretch from a little north of Alexandria to the Cañons
above Yale, a distance of above 300 miles. These terraces--or benches,
as they are called in this district--are perfectly level, and of
exactly the same height on each side of the river. They differ from the
so-called “parallel roads” of Glenroy in their enormous extent, being
vast plains as compared with the mere ledges of the Scottish terraces,
and are also free from the erratic boulders which mark the latter.
In most places there are three tiers, each tier corresponding with
a similar one on the opposite side of the valley. The lowest of the
three, where the valley expands, presents a perfectly flat surface of
often many miles in extent, raised some forty or fifty feet above the
level of the river bank, with a sloping front, resembling the face of a
railway embankment. Higher still, the second tier is generally cut out
of the mountain side, seldom more than a few acres in extent, and
raised sixty or seventy feet above the lower one; while, marked at an
inaccessible height along the face of the bluffs which run down to the
river, and probably 400 or 500 feet above it, is the third tier. These
“benches” are quite uniform, and of even surface, entirely free from
the great boulders so numerous in the present bed of the river, being
composed of shale, sand, and gravel, the detritus of the neighbouring
mountains. They are clothed with bunch-grass and wild sage, while
here and there a few scattered pines relieve the yellow bareness so
characteristic of the district. Similar terraces were noticed by Dr.
Hector on the Athabasca, Kootanie, and Columbia Rivers, and they have
been also observed on some rivers in California and Mexico; but in none
of these instances do they appear comparable in extent and regularity
with those of the Thompson and Fraser. It is worthy of remark that in
nearly every instance where these terraces have been found, in various
countries, they occur in _three_ successive tiers, as in these of
British Columbia; which would seem to mark as many separate epochs when
important geological disturbances took place.
[Illustration: THE TERRACES ON THE FRASER RIVER.
(_See page 338._)
]
Gold is found in all these benches on the Fraser in the state of the
finest “flour gold,” but not in sufficient quantities to satisfy the
miner when the richer diggings of Cariboo outrun all competition. There
seems to be some unexplained connection between these terraces and
the celebrated “bunch-grass,” for where the terraces commence on the
north, the bunch-grass is also first found, and both end together above
Yale. The rolling country between the two rivers is indeed clothed with
this grass, but it does not extend beyond the northern limit of the
terraces. In the valley of the Columbia, to the south-west, it grows
with great luxuriance, and here again the curious terraces are found.
The probable explanation of this circumstance is that the peculiar kind
of soil formed by the disintegration of the limestone, or soft volcanic
rocks, found in this district, is necessary to the growth of this
peculiar grass.
Soon after we again reached the Thompson, we came to a place where a
portion of the road was not yet made, and led our horses over high
rocky bluffs, which at first sight appeared completely to bar all
passage. The trail was a mere ledge of rock of a few inches in width,
and conquered the precipitous ascent by a succession of windings and
zig-zags. The path was so narrow that it was quite impossible for
horses to pass one another, and as the river rushes hundreds of feet
immediately below, and even a slip would be certainly fatal, it is
necessary to ascertain that the road is clear before venturing over the
dangerous precipices.
Along this part of the road we met a number of Chinamen at work
levelling the road, and their strange faces, large-brimmed hats, and
pig-tails caused intense amusement to our unsophisticated Assiniboines.
Further down a party of engineers were engaged in blasting the rock
where the road was to pass round the face of a bluff, and eight or
ten miles more brought us to the point where the road crosses to the
eastern bank of the Thompson. At this place, called Cook’s Ferry, we
stayed a night, and before we started in the morning some Indians
came in with the news that they had found a dead body stranded on the
shallows close by. We went to look at it with Mr. McKay, and from
certain marks tattooed upon the arm, and a complete correspondence
with the published description, we were satisfied that it was the body
of the murderer who had so long escaped pursuit. The man had probably
attempted to swim across the river in the night-time, and been drowned
in the rapids. Thus the only two men who had ever attempted highway
robbery in this colony--as far as we could ascertain--failed to
escape. The extraordinary rarity of crimes of violence in British
Columbia is owing, we believe, in great measure, to the vigorous
administration of the late Governor, Sir James Douglas, and the stern
justice meted out by Mr. Justice Begbie; but also in part, no doubt, to
the nature of the country. Shut in on every side by impassable mountain
barriers, the few outlets which exist are easily watched, and the
criminal has small chance of ultimate escape.
From Cook’s Ferry the road continues to follow the eastern bank of
the Thompson to its junction with the Fraser at Lytton--twenty-three
miles; it is then continued along the same side of the Fraser for
thirty-eight miles, or within thirteen miles of Yale, where it crosses
the river by a beautiful suspension bridge. The road from Cook’s
Ferry to Yale, especially the part below Lytton, is probably the most
wonderful in the world. Cut out of the mountain-side of the gorge, it
follows the hills as they recede in “gulches,” or advance in bold,
upright bluffs, in constant windings, like an eternal letter S. The
curves of ascent and descent are as sinuous as the lateral; the road at
one time running down, by a series of rapid turns, to the very bottom
of the valley, and then rising as quickly to pass the face of some
protruding bluff, apparently a complete barrier to all advance, but
past which it creeps, looking from below like a mere line scratched on
the round front, 500 or 600 feet above the river. At these points the
road is partly blasted out of the solid granite rock, and the width
increased by beams of rough pine, which project over the precipice; but
it is yet too narrow for vehicles to pass each other, except at certain
points. There is, of course, no protecting wall; the road overhangs the
precipice, and nothing is to be seen supporting the platform on which
you stand--a terrible place to drive along, as we afterwards found.
The road has been made, in this skilful and laborious manner, from
where it first strikes the Thompson to Yale, a distance of nearly 100
miles.
The trail formerly ran up many hundred feet higher, the barrier bluffs
being passed by platforms slung by the Indians from the top of the
cliff by cords of bark and deer-skin. These consisted of a single
long pole, supported by a cross-pole at each end, the points of which
rested against the face of the precipice. There was nothing to lay hold
of, and a slip or hasty step, as the passenger walked along the rail
embracing the face of the rock, would cause the pole to swing away, and
hurl the incautious climber into the abyss below.
The Bishop of Columbia, in his Journal, gives a very graphic
description of his journey along the old trail, in which he compares
his position to a fly upon the face of a perpendicular wall, in this
case between 2,000 and 3,000 feet high. Many a miner lost his life at
Jackass Mountain and Nicaragua Slide--places of this kind. There was
at this time no other way to the mines except a mule trail, little less
difficult, passing high over the mountain tops, and only available for
a short time in summer, on account of the snow. Supplies were carried
to the mines on the backs of the miners themselves, or packed on
Indians, who carried from 100 to 150 pounds over this perilous path.
On our way we met many Indians still competing with the mule-trains.
Some of the men were loaded with 150 pounds, supporting them by a strap
across the forehead; the women carried 50 or 100 pounds; and one squaw
we met had on her back a fifty-pound sack of flour, on that a box of
candles, and on the top of the box a child. They seemed very jolly
and happy under their heavy labour, and never failed to salute us with
a friendly smile and “Klahowya?” or “How do you do?” The melody of
their voices and soft intonation was most pleasing, overcoming all the
roughness and uncouthness of the vile Chinook jargon.[19]
Between Lytton and Yale lie most of the bars, or sandbanks, which
yielded such an extraordinary amount of gold when first discovered.
They are now deserted, except by a few Chinamen, who make from one to
ten dollars a day. As we descended the Fraser, the vegetation began to
change. The terraces disappeared, and the flat stretches, covered only
with bunch-grass and scattered yellow pine, gave place to an irregular
formation and a thicker growth of white pine, with here and there a
small birch, and a plentiful undergrowth of deciduous shrubs.
On our way we passed many Indians engaged in salmon fishing, which
they practise in a very peculiar manner. They select some point in the
fierce rapids where a quiet eddy forms under the lee of a projecting
rock. Over the rock they sling a little platform of poles, within a
convenient distance of the surface of the water, and from this position
grope untiringly in the eddy with a kind of oval landing net. The
salmon, wearied by their exertions in overcoming the torrent, rest
for a time in the little eddy before making the next attempt to mount
the rapid, and are taken in hundreds by these clever fishermen. Here
and there were Indian graves adorned with numerous flags; and in many
instances carved images, nearly the size of life, and elaborately
painted, were placed around. The dead man’s gun and blankets, with most
of his other property, were generally suspended to poles about the
grave. Occasionally we passed an Indian winter store for fish--a rough
box, slung in a tree high out of reach. Some tribes bury their dead in
the same manner.
About fifteen miles above Yale, the gorge through which the Fraser
runs, as it bursts through the Cascade Range, becomes very narrow, and
the river flows in a succession of terrific rapids, called the Cañons--
or _canyons_, as the word is pronounced--for the remaining distance.
The mountains on each side, 3,000 or 4,000 feet high, seem almost to
meet overhead, peak after peak rising in close proximity. The Fraser,
rarely anything but a rocky rapid in any part of its course, here goes
utterly mad, and foams and rages down the narrow and falling channel
at the rate of twenty miles an hour. The volume of water which passes
through this outlet, here not more than forty yards in width, will be
more readily conceived when it is stated that the Fraser has already
collected the waters of over 800 miles, and amongst other rivers
receives the Thompson, of almost equal size with itself. Several
hundred miles above, each of these rivers expands into a broad and
deep stream, more than a quarter of a mile in width; yet at the Cañons
the vast accumulation is confined in a channel of less than fifty
yards wide. Huge rocks stand up in the middle of the stream in several
places, the waters escaping by a constricted passage on either side.
The mass of the Cascade Range is grey granite, and the sides of the
chasm show beautiful sections of the rock, plaided with protruding
seams of white quartz, the harder rock having been worn away by the
action of the water, which the soft quartz seems to have resisted.
In many cases the opposite walls of the chasm correspond in a most
remarkable manner, so that they appear as if they would fit accurately
if placed in apposition, suggesting forcibly that they had been
portions of the same solid mass violently rent asunder. As we looked
on this and wondered, an explanation of the formation of the terraces
occurred to our minds. At one time the valleys of the Thompson and
Fraser were occupied by a succession of lakes, the Cascade Range being
the barrier which dammed in the enormous volume of water, and the
highest tier of terraces marking the level to which it rose. The tops
only of the lower mountains appeared at this time as rounded islands
above the surface. By some means--perhaps some grand convulsion of
Nature--the embankment of this huge reservoir broke down, the waters
partially escaped, and the lakes were drained down to the level of
the middle tier of benches. Twice more must a similar catastrophe
have occurred before the waters were lowered into their present narrow
and rocky channel. Each of these accidents must have been separated
from the preceding one by an immense lapse of time, during which
the enormous quantity of detritus accumulated to form the extensive
plateaux which have been described.
[Illustration: YALE, ON THE FRASER RIVER.
(_See page 347._)
]
We arrived at Yale about four o’clock in the afternoon, and immediately
ordered the best dinner they could give us at the Colonial Hotel. The
house was kept by a Frenchman, who excelled himself on this occasion,
and provided a meal which to us, who had not eaten anything deserving
the name of a dinner for at least eighteen months, appeared perfection.
The champagne, however, and sundry drinks with fraternising miners,
caused us to wake with most tremendous headaches next morning. Some
of the visitors to the bar amused us greatly. One tall Yankee,
considerably intoxicated, was possessed with the idea that he was Lord
Nelson, and associating the great admiral in some way with cucumbers,
ate several in succession, to prove his identity.
The little town of Yale is merely a single row of houses facing the
river, which, having just escaped through the Cañons, here sweeps to
the west, a broad and noble river. The town is built on a small flat,
backed on the north by lofty hills, and looking down the widening
valley to the south, where the receding mountains still tower up grand
and high. The situation is exceedingly picturesque, and the clean,
white, wooden buildings were as gay with flags as any Yankee could
desire. Gold may be obtained in the street of Yale, and a couple of
Indians were working with a “rocker” opposite the Hotel when we were
there.
The next morning we bade good-bye to our kind friend, Mr. McKay,
and embarked on the steamer _Reliance_ for New Westminster. The
river expands rapidly below Yale, flowing between low, richly-wooded
banks. On the way we passed Hope and Langley, old stations of the
Hudson’s Bay Company. The site of the former is the most beautiful in
British Columbia--a wooded level shut in by an amphitheatre of lofty
mountains--Yale upon a grander scale. Before the discovery of the
Cariboo mines, it was a place of considerable importance, but has now
“caved in,” and become desolate. Soon after dark, we saw the lights
of New Westminster before us, and in the course of half-an-hour were
comfortably established at the Colonial Hotel.
The city of New Westminster, the capital of British Columbia, stands in
a commanding position, on ground gradually rising from the river, which
is here three-quarters of a mile broad. The town has been beautifully
laid out by Col. Moody, R.E., the late Commissioner of Lands and Works,
and several streets of good wooden houses already exist.
The great drawback to its situation is the dense forest of timber of
the largest size by which it is shut in. The little clearing which has
been already done has been effected with great labour by the help of
the engineers quartered there for several years; but, although the
land is fertile enough, the expense of clearing it is so heavy that but
little farming has been carried out. The place is still unsightly, from
the stumps of trees sticking up on every side. The river is navigable
to this point for vessels drawing eighteen or twenty feet of water,
and, should direct communication be established with England, it may
eventually rival Victoria. As yet, however, it is completely eclipsed
by that more favoured city.
Staying only one night in New Westminster, we took our passages on
board the _Enterprise_ for Victoria, Vancouver Island, on the 19th of
September. We were presently surprised by encountering Mr. O’B., who
had come by way of Lilloet and Douglas. He was wonderfully altered
since we parted from him a week before. He, like ourselves, had become
somewhat corpulent, and had quite regained his spirits, and the
loquacity which had flagged so notably during our journey through the
forest.
On entering the Gulf of Georgia, Mount Baker, a magnificent snow-clad
peak, about 10,700 feet in height, comes into view in the east, and
the thousand islands of the gulf, rocky or richly wooded, offer a
succession of beauties which render this voyage to Victoria one of the
most charming in the world. We reached our destination about dark, and
immediately betook ourselves to the Hotel de France. The proprietor,
however, mistrusting our leather shirts, and total want of luggage,
declared he had no room, and we moved off disconsolate. Before we got
far, a waiter came running after us to say it was all a mistake, and
requested us to go back, having, no doubt, discovered that we were
respectable, although at first sight our appearance was unpromising.
But we turned a deaf ear, and continued on our way to the St. George,
where we found capital accommodation, and having properly refreshed
ourselves, took the rough hint we had received, and betook ourselves to
the nearest tailor, to obtain more civilised attire.