yet on big hills. We take wagon first."
"A wagon!" exclaimed John. "I didn't know there was a wagon within a
thousand miles."
"My cousin other side river," said Leo, proudly, "got wagon. Bring 'um
wagon two hunder' miles from Fort George on canoe. His horses heap
kick wagon sometam, but bime-by all right. We get work on railroad
bime-by."
Rob and John stood looking at each other somewhat puzzled. "Well,"
said John, "I thought we were coming to a wild country, but it looks
as though everybody here was getting ready to be civilized as fast as
possible. But even if we have a wagon, where are we going with it?"
"There's a perfectly good trail up to Cranberry Lake, the summit of
this divide, as I told you," said Uncle Dick. "I think Leo would
rather take one of the boats by wagon. The rest of us can push the
other boat up the McLennan, part way at least."
"Good trail," said Leo. "Suppose you'll like, we got horse trail down
Canoe River forty mile now. Many people come now. I been to
Revelstruck [Revelstoke] three tam, me and my cousin George--part way
horse, part way boat. Bime-by go on railroad. That's why my cousin buy
his wagon--work on railroad and get money for ticket to Revelstruck."
"Well, what do you know about that, Rob?" said John. "This country
certainly is full of enterprise. What I don't understand is, how they
got a wagon up the Fraser River in a canoe."
After a time Leo led them down to the bank of the Fraser and showed
them several of the long, dug-out canoes of the Shuswap, with which
these people have navigated that wild river for many years. He
explained how, by lashing two canoes together, they could carry quite
a load without danger of capsizing; and he explained the laborious
process of poling such a craft up this rapid river. The boys listened
to all these things in wonder and admiration, feeling that certainly
they were in a new and singular country after all. Once all the trade
of the Pacific coast had passed this very spot.
"Well now, Leo," said Uncle Dick, "you go get your cousin George, and
let us begin to make plans to start out. We've got to hurry."
"Oh, of course we've got to hurry!" said John, laughing. "I never saw
you when you were not in a hurry, Uncle Dick."
"S'pose we put boat on Canoe River or Columby River," said Leo,
smiling, "she'll go plenty hurry, fast enough."
By and by he brought another Indian of his own age, even darker in
color and more taciturn.
"This George," said he, "my cousin. I am mos' bes' grizzlum-hunter at
Tete Jaune. George is mos' bes' man on boat."
"And Moise is the most best cook," said Uncle Dick, laughing. "Well,
it looks as though we'd get along all right. But, since you accuse me
of always being in too big a hurry, I'll agree to camp here for the
night. Boys, you may unroll the packs. Leo, you may get us that
mosquito-tent I left with you last year."
XVIII
SOUTHWARD BOUND
The boys all had a pleasant time visiting around the Indian village,
and enjoyed, moreover, the rest after their long ride on the trail. On
the morning of their start from Tete Jaune Cache they went to look
once more at the boats which were now to make their means of
transportation.
"I think they'll be all right," said Rob. "They're heavier than the
ones we had on the Peace River, and the sides are higher. You could
put a ton in one of these boats and she'd ride pretty safe in rather
rough water, I should say."
"I'll bet we'll think they weigh a ton when we try to carry them down
to the river," said Jesse. "But I suppose there'll be plenty of men to
help do that."
"Now, we'll be leaving this place pretty soon," continued John. "I
hate to go away and leave my pony, Jim. This morning he came up and
rubbed his nose on my arm as if he was trying to say something."
"He'd just as well say good-by," smiled Rob, "for, big as our boats
are, we couldn't carry a pack-train along in them, and I think the
swimming will be pretty rough over yonder."
"These are pretty heavy paddles," said Jesse, picking up one of the
rough contrivances Leo had made. "They look more like sweeps. But
they're not oars, for I don't see any thole-pins."
"It'll be all paddling and all down-stream," said Rob. "You couldn't
use oars, and the paddles have to be very strong to handle boats as
heavy as these. You just claw and pole and pull with these paddles,
and use them more to guide than to get up motion for the boat."
"How far do we go on the Canoe River?" inquired Jesse of Rob. "You'll
have to be making your map now, John, you know."
"Leo called it a hundred and fifty miles from the summit to the
Columbia River," replied Rob, "but Uncle Dick thought it was not over
eighty or a hundred miles in a straight line."
"Besides, we've got to go down the Columbia River a hundred miles or
so," added John, drawing out his map-paper. "I'm going to lay out the
courses each day."
"It won't take long to run that far in a boat," said Rob. "And I only
hope Uncle Dick won't get in too big a hurry, although I suppose he
knows best about this high water which he seems to dread so much all
the time. Leo told me that about the worst thing on the Canoe River
was log-jams--driftwood, I mean."
The boys now bent over John's map on which he was beginning to trace
some preliminary lines.
"Yonder to the left and south, somewhere, Rob, is the Athabasca Pass,
which the traders all used who used the Columbia River instead of the
Fraser. Somewhere on our way south we'll cut their trail. It came down
some of these streams on the left. I don't know whether they came up
the Canoe River or not, but not regularly, I'm sure. On Thompson's map
you'll see another stream running south almost parallel to the
Canoe--that's the Wood River. They didn't use that very much, from all
I can learn, and that place on the Columbia called the Boat
Encampment was a sort of a round-up place for all those who crossed
the Athabasca Pass. Just to think, we're going the same trail on the
big river traveled a hundred years ago by David Thompson and Sir
George Simpson, and Doctor Laughlin, of old Fort Vancouver, and all
those old chaps!"
"I wonder what kind of boats they had in those times," remarked Jesse.
"They seem to have left no record about these most interesting details
in their business. I suppose, however, they must have had log canoes a
good deal like these Indians use on the Fraser. I don't think they
used birch-bark; and if they had boats made out of sawed boards, I
can't find any mention of it."
While they were standing talking thus, and working on John's map, they
were approached by the leader of the party with the men who were to
accompany them, and one or two other Indians of the village.
"All ready now," said Uncle Dick. "Here, you men, carry this boat down
to the river-bank. The rest of you get busy with the packs."
"There she goes, the old Fraser," said John, as they gathered at the
river-bank. "It's a good rifle-shot across her here, and she's only
fifty miles long. It looks as though we'd have our own troubles
getting across, too."
But Leo and George, well used to navigation on these swift waters,
took the first boat across, loaded, without any difficulty, standing
up and paddling vigorously, and making a fairly straight passage
across the rapid stream, although they landed far below their
starting-point. With no serious difficulty the entire party was thus
transported, and soon the heavier of the two boats, with most of the
camp supplies, was loaded on the new red wagon of Leo's other cousin,
who now stood waiting for them, having his own troubles with a pair of
fractious young cayuses that he had managed to hitch to the wagon.
With this last addition to their party perched on top, and Leo and
George walking alongside, the procession started off up the trail
across the valley, headed for the low divide which lay beyond. The
remaining boat, manned by Moise and Uncle Dick at bow and stern, was
launched on the little river which came down from Cranberry Lake. The
boys, rifles in hand, and light packs on their shoulders, trudged
along on foot, cutting off bends and meeting the boat every once in a
while. They had an early start after all, and, the wagon doubling back
after depositing its load late in the afternoon to bring on the second
boat, they all made camp on the summit not far from the lake that
evening.
XIX
ON THE CANOE RIVER
"John," said Uncle Dick, before they broke camp the following morning,
"you'll have some work to do now with your map. This pass is not as
high as the Yellowhead Pass, but in a way it's almost as interesting
because it is the divide between the Fraser and the Columbia valleys;
so you must get it on the map.
"Yonder is the river which old Simon Fraser thought was the Columbia,
and the river which first took Sir Alexander Mackenzie to the Pacific.
South of us runs the great Columbia, bending up as far as it can to
reach this very spot. South to the Columbia run these two rivers, the
Canoe and the Wood. Over yonder is the Albreda Pass, by which you
reach the Thompson--glaciers enough there to suit any one. And over in
that way, too, rises the Canoe River, which runs conveniently right
toward us here, within a mile of our lake, inviting us to take its
pathway to the Columbia.
"Over that way on the left, as you know, lie the Rockies, and outside
of two or three passes between the Kicking Horse Pass and the
Yellowhead Pass no one really knows much about them. You see, we've
quite a little world of our own in here. The white men are just
beginning to come into this valley."
"Where are we going to hunt the grizzlies, Leo?" inquired Rob, after a
time, as they busied themselves making ready for the portage with the
canoe.
Leo rose and pointed his hand first south, and then to the west and
south.
"Little creek come in from high mountain," said he. "All valleys deep,
plenty slides."
"Slides? What does he mean, Uncle Dick?" inquired John.
"Well, I'll tell you. Leo hunts bear here in about the only practical
way, which is to say, on the slides which the avalanches have torn
down the sides of the mountains. You see, all these mountainsides are
covered with enormous forest growth, so dense that you could not find
anything in them, for game will hear or see you before you come up
with it. These forests high up on the mountains make the real home of
the grizzly. In the spring, however, the first thing a grizzly does is
to hunt out some open country where he can find grass, or roots, or
maybe mice or gophers--almost anything to eat. Besides, he likes to
look around over the country, just like a white goat, apparently. So
he will pick out a sort of feeding-ground or loafing-ground right in
one of these slides--a place where the snow-slips have carried away
the trees and rocks perhaps many years earlier and repeated it from
year to year.
"On these slides you will find grass and little bushes. As this is the
place where the bears are most apt to be, and as you could not see
them anyhow if they were anywhere else, that is where the hunters look
for them. Late in the afternoon is the best time to find a grizzly on
a slide. You see, his fur is very hot for him, and he doesn't like the
open sun, and stays in until the cooler hours of the day. Evidently
Leo has found some creeks down below in the Canoe Valley where the
hunters have not yet got in, and that is why he made such a big hunt
last spring. Indeed, there are a number of creeks which come into the
Columbia from the west where almost no hunting has ever been done, and
where, very likely, one could make a good bear-hunt any time this
month."
The boys all agreed that the prospects of getting a grizzly apiece
seemed very good indeed, and so set to work with much enthusiasm in
the task of re-embarking, on the rapid waters of the Canoe River, here
a small and raging stream, but with water sufficient to carry down the
two bateaux. Their man with the wagon, without saying good-by, turned
and went back to his village on the banks of the Fraser. Thus in the
course of a day, the young travelers found themselves in an entirely
different country, bound upon a different route, and with a wholly
different means of transport. The keen delight of this exciting form
of travel took hold upon them, and Uncle Dick and Moise, who handled
the rear boat, in which all the boys were passengers, had all they
could do to keep them still and to restrain their wish to help do some
of the paddling.
Leo and his cousin George, as has been stated, took the lead in the
boat which the party christened the _Lizzie W._, in honor of Jesse's
mother. The rear boat they called the _Bronco_, because of her antics
in some of the fast rapids which from time to time they encountered.
For a time they made none too rapid progress on their stream, which,
though deep enough, was more or less clogged with sweepers and
driftwood in some of the bends. Uncle Dick gave Leo orders not to go
more than one bend ahead, so that in case of accident the boats would
be in touch with each other. Thus very often the rear boat ran up on
the forward one, lying inshore, and held ready to line down some bad
chute of the stream.
In this work all bore a hand. The lines to be used were made of
rawhide, which would have been slippery except for the large knots
tied every foot or so to give a good handhold. Of course, in all this,
as much in as out of the water, pretty much every one in the party got
soaked to the skin, but this was accepted as part of the day's work,
and they all went steadily on down the stream, putting mile after mile
behind them, and opening up at every bend additional vistas of
splendid mountain prospects.
At noon they paused to boil the tea-kettle, but made only a short
stop. So steady had been their journey that when they pitched camp for
the night on a little beach they estimated that their progress had
been more than that of a pack-train in a good day's travel. That night
they had for supper some fresh grouse, or "fool-hens," which fell to
Jesse's rifle out of a covey which perched in the bushes not far from
their camp-site. They passed a very jovial night in this camp, well
content alike with their advance and with the prospects which now they
felt lay before them.
XX
CARIBOU IN CAMP
"This weather," said Uncle Dick, walking toward an open place in the
trees and looking up at the bright sky above, "is entirely too fine to
suit me. This morning looks as though we would have a warm day, and
that means high water. The rock walls in the canyons below here don't
stretch, and a foot of water on a flat like this may mean twenty feet
rise in a canyon. And that is where this little band of travelers will
all get out and walk."
Leo, who had been examining his boat, which he had drawn up on the
beach to dry overnight, now asked a little time to calk a leak which
he had discovered. Meantime the boys concluded it might be a good plan
to walk out a little way into an open place and try the sights of
their rifles, which they knew would need to be exactly right if they
were to engage in such dangerous sport as that of hunting the grizzly
bear.
"S'pose you see some small little bear," said Moise, as they started
out, "you shoot 'um. Shoot 'um caribou too, s'pose you see one--law
says traveler can kil meat."
"Well, we're not apt to see one," said John, "for we'd scare them when
we began to shoot our rifles."
They had advanced only a few hundred yards from the camp when they
found an open place in front of the trees which offered a good
opportunity for a rifle-range of two hundred yards.
"I'm not going to fool with my sights," said Jesse, "because my gun
shot all right last night on the grouse. You fellows go ahead."
Rob and John proceeded with the work of targeting their rifles, firing
perhaps a dozen shots apiece in all before they turned to walk back to
the camp. As they did so Rob, happening to look back of them, suddenly
halted them with a low word. "What's that?" said he.
An animal large as a two-year-old heifer and wearing short stubs of
horns was trotting toward them steadily, as though bound to come
directly up to them. So far from being alarmed by the firing, it
seemed to have been attracted by it, and really it was only curiosity
which brought it up thus to its most dangerous enemy. It had never
heard a rifle or seen a human being before in all its life.
"Caribou!" said Rob in a low tone of voice. Even as he spoke John's
rifle rang out, and the other two followed promptly. The stupid beast,
now within sixty yards of them, fell dead in less time than it would
take to tell of the incident. A moment later the boys stood at its
side, excitedly talking together.
"Go back to camp, Jesse," said Rob, at length, "and tell Moise to come
out. John and I will stay and begin to skin out the meat."
Moise, when he came out from camp, was very much pleased with the
results of this impromptu hunt. "Plenty fat meat now," said he.
"That's nice young caribou, heem." He fell rapidly to work in his
experienced fashion, and in a short time he and George had packed the
meat down to the camp and loaded it in the two boats, both of which
were now ready for the departure.
"That's the most obliging caribou I ever heard of," said Rob, "to walk
right into our camp that way. I've read about buffalo-hunters in the
old times running a buffalo almost into camp before they killed it, to
save trouble in packing the meat. But they'd have to do pretty well if
they beat this caribou business of ours."
Leo stood looking at the young hunters with considerable surprise, for
he had been very skeptical of their ability to kill any game, and
extremely distrustful of their having anything to do with grizzly
hunting.
"Plenty caribou this valley," said he; "big black-face caribou. Heem
plenty fool, too. Caribou he don't bite. But s'pose you'll see
grizzlum bear, you better look out--then maybe you get some scares.
S'pose you get some scares, you better leave grizzlum alone."
"Never mind, Leo," said Uncle Dick, laughing at him, "let's not worry
about that yet a while. First find your grizzly."
"Find plenty grizzlum to-morrow, one day, two day," said Leo. "Not far
now."
They determined to make a good long run that day, and indeed the stage
of water aided them in that purpose; but Uncle Dick, as leader of the
party, found that Leo and George had very definite ideas of their own
as to what constituted a day's work. When noon came--although neither
of them had a watch--they went ashore at a beach and signified their
intention of resting one hour, quite as though they were members of a
labor-union in some city; so nothing would do but the kettle must be
boiled and a good rest taken.
"How'll you and George get back up this stream, Leo?" inquired Rob,
seating himself by the Indians as they lolled on the sand.
"That easy," said Leo. "We go Revelstruck two, three tam, my cousin
and me. Come up Columby those wind behind us all right. Sometam pull
boat on rope, mos' tam pole. Sometam pull 'um up on bush, little bit
at time. But when we come on Columby, up Canoe, we get horse fifty
miles this side Cranberry Lake and go out on trail. It most easy to go
down and not come up."
"Well, I should say so," said Rob, "and on the whole I'm glad we don't
have to come back at all."
"We not come back this way," said Leo, calmly lighting his pipe.
"But I thought you just said that you did."
"Not this tam. My cousin and me we go on railroad from Revelstruck
west to Ashcroft. Plenty choo-choo wagon Ashcroft near Fort George. At
Fort George two, three choo-choo boat nowadays. We get on choo-choo
boat and go up to Tete Jaune. That's more easy. Bime-by railroad, then
heap more easy."
"Well, will you listen to that!" said John, as Leo concluded.
"Automobiles and powerboats up in this country, and a railroad coming
in a couple of years! It looks to me as though we'd have to go to the
north pole next time, if we get anywhere worth while."
"Bime-by grizzlum," said Leo, rising after a while and tightening his
belt, as he walked down to the boats. "I know two, three good place.
We camp this night, make hunt there."
XXI
THE FIRST BEAR CAMP
As they advanced to the southward the boys all felt that they were, in
spite of all these threats of an advancing civilization, at last in
the wilderness itself. Where the stream swept in close to the mountain
range they could see dense, heavy forest, presenting an unbroken cover
almost to the tops of the peaks themselves. At times when obliged to
leave the bed of the stream for a little while, when the men lined
down the boat on a bad passage, the boys would find themselves
confronted, even when going a hundred yards or so, with a forest
growth whose like they had never seen. Giant firs whose trunks were
six feet or more in diameter were everywhere. Sometimes they would
find one of these giants fallen in the woods, crashing down through
the other trees, even great trunks spanning little ravines or gullies
as bridges.
They were willing enough to make their path along any of these trunks
which lay in their way, for below them lay the icy floor of the
forest, covered with wet moss, or with slush and snow, since the sun
hardly ever shone fair upon the ground in these heavy forests. Dense
alders and thickets of devil's-club also opposed them, so that they
were at a loss to see how any one could make his way through such a
country as this, and were glad enough to reach even the inhospitable
pathway of their mountain river and to take to the boats again.
Unquestionably they made a long run that afternoon, for Leo evidently
was in a hurry to reach some certain point. Late as the sun sank in
that northern latitude, it was almost dark when at length they pulled
inshore on an open beach at the mouth of the brawling stream which
came down from the west out of a deep gorge lined with the ancient and
impenetrable forest growth.
"I wish we had some fish to eat," said John. "Couldn't we catch any in
this creek, or in the river?"
"No catch 'um trout," said Leo. "Too much ice and snow in water. Some
trout in Columby. In summer salmon come."
"And in spring mosquito come," said Jesse, slapping at his face. "I
think we'd better put up our new mosquito-tents from this time on."
"All right," said John. "That's a good idea. We haven't needed them
very much yet, but it looks as though the warm weather was going to
hatch out a lot of fly."
They now proceeded to put up on the beach one of the tents which had
earlier been brought along to the Cache by their uncle from Seattle,
where much of the Alaskan outfitting is done. This tent was a rather
curious affair, but effective in its way. It had about a three-foot
wall, and the roof extended for two inches beyond the sides, as well
as the two inches above the top, or ridge, where a number of grommets
allowed the passage of a rope for a ridge-pole. The boys pitched the
tent by means of a ridge-pole above the tent, supported by crotched
poles at each end, and lashed the top firmly to the ridge-pole.
The interior of the tent was like a box, for the floor was sewed to
the bottom of the walls all around and the front end of the tent did
not open at all. Instead it had a round hole large enough to admit a
man's body, and to the edges of this hole was sewed a long sleeve, or
funnel, of light drilling, with an opening just large enough to let a
man crawl through it to the interior of the tent. Once inside, he
could, as John explained it, pull the hole in after him and then tie a
knot in the hole. The end of the sleeve, or funnel, was tied tight
after the occupant of the tent had gotten inside.
In order to secure ventilation, ample windows, covered with bobbinet,
or cheese-cloth, were provided in each end and in the sides, each with
a little curtain of canvas which could be tied down in case of rain.
Their engineer uncle, who had aided in the perfection of this device,
declared it to be the only thing which made engineering possible in
this far northern country, which was impassable in the winter-time,
and intolerable in the summer-time for the man who has no defense
against the insect pests which make life so wretched for the
inexperienced traveler in the north.
Leo looked with considerable interest at this arrangement after the
boys had crawled in and made their beds inside ready for the night's
rest. The boys offered him the use of their old tent, if he liked,
but he seemed a trifle contemptuous about it.
"Fly no hurt Injun," said he. And indeed he, George, and Moise all
slept in the open by preference, with only their blankets drawn over
their heads to protect them against the onslaughts of the mosquitoes.