THE START
The sun was not very high when they pushed off. The wind blew in gusts
from the southeast and the sky was obscured by a loose bank of clouds
which occasionally gave down a little rain.
The bow paddle was wielded by a gigantic Indian, known as Hamset;
while in the stern, occupying the position of steersman, sat a much
smaller man, whose unpronounceable Ucletah name had been shortened for
convenience to "Jimmie." Between the bow and the stern, seated on rolls
of blankets, were the four whites--first, Fannin, then Charlie, the
cook, then Hugh, and last of all Jack. Each was provided with a paddle,
and they worked two on each side of the canoe. The provisions were
stored in one box, the mess kit in another, and the rolls of blankets
were placed in the bottom of the canoe so as to trim it properly. The
canoe was quite dry, and loose boards on the bottom would keep the
cargo from getting wet, even if a little water were shipped.
The breeze which was now blowing was a favorable one; and they had
hardly started before it began to rain steadily and to threaten a wet,
boisterous day. Fannin was in great spirits at this prospect; for he,
better than any one else, knew what a few days of favoring winds would
accomplish toward hastening them along on their voyage. As the rain
fell harder mats and rubber blankets were spread over the guns and
bedding. The sail was hoisted, and all hands except the steersman took
in their paddles and sat back with a satisfied air, as if they had
nothing to do except to watch the breeze blowing and the land moving by
them.
Farther to the southward there had been many islands, which would have
cut off the breeze; but here the open waters of the Gulf stretched away
to windward for twenty or thirty miles, and there was nothing to break
the force of the breeze. As they advanced various islands appeared,
Texada showing a high peak above the fog; and then other smaller
islands,--Denman and Hornby.
The wind kept blowing harder and harder, until at noon quite a sea was
running, and the waves began to break over the sides of the vessel,
necessitating bailing. The canoe was heavily loaded and set rather low
in the water, cutting through the waves instead of riding over them
as it should have done. This pleasant condition of things lasted for
some time, but about two o'clock the sky cleared, the wind fell, and
it was necessary to take to the paddles once more, for now the sail
flapped idly against the mast and the canoe began to float back toward
Nanaimo--the tide having turned. The sea became as smooth as glass,
the sun glared down from the unclouded sky with summery fierceness,
and after a little while the travellers realized that the canoe trip
might mean a lot of hard work. More than that, the canoe seemed to be
anchored to the bottom, and, so far as could be judged from occasional
glances toward the distant shore, did not move at all. The work became
harder and harder, and Hugh and Jack at last realized that here was a
struggle between the paddles and the tide, with the chances rather in
favor of the tide. This, of course, meant that they must work harder.
Coats were stripped off, the crew bent to their work, and at last found
that the craft did move, although very, very slowly.
After a half hour's hard paddling Jack said to Hugh: "I tell you, Hugh,
watching that shore is like watching the hands of a watch. If you look
at the shore you would think that we were perfectly motionless. It's
only when you take some object on the beach and notice its position,
and then, five or ten minutes later, look at it again that you find
that our position has changed with relation to it, and that it is
farther behind than it was when you last saw it."
"Yes," said Fannin, "I've done lots of canoeing in my time, but I guess
I shall learn something on this trip as well as the rest of you. We're
pretty heavily loaded, and if we have head winds and tides much of the
time we'll have to put in about all the hours every day working at
these paddles. Besides that, we've got to figure on being wind-bound
for a certain number of days, and, taking it all in all, we can't hope
to go very far. Nevertheless, we can go far enough to see a good deal."
The progress of the canoe was made more slow by the fact that its track
skirted the shore, following quite closely all its windings, and hardly
ever cutting across the bays, large or small, that indented the island.
Jack asked Fannin why the Indians did not go across from one headland
to another, thus saving much paddling; and Fannin explained that this
was done partly to avoid the force of the tide, and partly from the
habitual caution of the east coast Indians. "On the waters of the
Gulf," said Mr. Fannin, "gales often spring up without giving much
warning, and quite a heavy sea may follow the wind almost at once.
These canoes, especially when heavily loaded, as ours is, cannot stand
much battering by the waves."
As the sun sank low, after a long spell of paddling, the bow of the
canoe was turned into the mouth of Qualicum River; and a little later,
when close to the shore, the vessel was turned bow out and the stern
pushed shoreward, till it grated gently on the pebbly beach. All hands
at once sprang out, and it was a relief to get on firm ground again and
to stretch the limbs, contracted by nearly twelve hours of sitting in
one position.
Now the rolls of blankets were tossed on the beach, the provision
box and mess kit and other property were unloaded and carried up
to the meadow above. In a few moments a fire had been kindled, and
preparations for the evening meal were begun. Now, Jack and Fannin
began putting together their fishing rods; Hugh took his rifle and
looked it over, wiping off the moisture that had accumulated on it, and
got out some ammunition. The party wanted fresh meat and was going to
try hard to get it. Meantime the Indians had taken out the boards from
the canoe, placed them on the beach, and were sliding the vessel up,
far above high-water mark.
Before Jack had made many casts he had a rise or two, and he was doing
his best to hook a fish when Charlie's shout of "Dinner" caused them
all to lay aside their tools and repair to the fire for supper. It was
a simple meal of bacon, bread, and coffee; but the work of the day had
given all hearty appetites and they enjoyed it. Then, a little later,
Jack went back to his fishing, and Fannin, Hugh, and Hamset put off in
the canoe and disappeared behind a bend of the river.
Being unable to do anything with the fish, which were now jumping
everywhere at the mouth of the river, Jack worked along up the stream,
and around the next point was more successful. A fish rose to his
flies and was hooked, and, after a brief struggle, was dragged up on
the beach. It was a beautiful trout, only weighing half a pound, to be
sure, but none the worse on that account, if regarded simply from the
point of view of so much food. Encouraged by this success, Jack fished
faithfully and carefully, and before long had killed half a dozen
others, all about the same size as the first. Most of these were taken
in more or less shallow water near the beach, but at length he came
to a place where an eddy of the stream had dug out a big hole not far
from the edge of the bank, and casting over this two or three times, he
had a rise which almost made his heart stop beating. The fish missed
the fly, but rose again to another cast, and this time was hooked on
a brown hackle. And then for a little while Jack had the time of his
life. The fish was far too strong for him to handle, and for a little
time kept him running up and down the beach, following its powerful
rushes, taking in line whenever he could, and yielding it when he must.
Once or twice the rush of the fish was so prolonged that almost all the
line went off the spool, and he even ran into the river up to his knees
in the effort to save some of his line. At last, however, the runs grew
shorter, and the fish yielded and swayed over on its side and was towed
up to the beach. But as soon as it saw Jack it seemed to regain all its
vigor, and darted away with a powerful rush. This was its last effort.
Gradually Jack drew it into water which was more and more shallow,
and finally up, so that its head rested on the beach. Then seizing
the leader he dragged it well in, and in a moment he had it in his
hands. It was a beautiful and very powerful fish, and must have weighed
between four and five pounds. A little later another fish was taken,
not quite so large, to be sure, but big enough to give the angler a
splendid fight; and then, as the sun had disappeared behind the forest,
Jack strung his trout on a willow twig and made his way back to camp.
Charlie received him with delight.
"Well," he said, "you're the kind of a man I like to be out
with--somebody that can go out and get food to eat. I bet them other
fellows won't bring in anything; but we've got enough here nearly for
breakfast and dinner to-morrow. I wish if you have time you'd go out
to-morrow morning and catch some more."
"I'd like to," said Jack. "Those two big fellows over there gave me as
much fun as I ever had in my life."
"Well," said Charlie, "you'll have better fun than that to-morrow
morning when you're eating that fish."
"No," said Jack, "I don't believe it. I think that I would rather have
the fun of catching those two fish than eating the best meal that was
ever cooked."
From the camp Jack wandered away along the beach and over the meadows
back toward the forest that came down from the higher land. Here he saw
that this must be quite a camping place for Indians, and that some had
been there within a few days. There were the remains of recent fires,
tent poles that had been cut only a few days before; and some little
way back from the beach, and hardly to be seen among the timber, was an
Indian house in which Jack discovered four canoes.
When he returned to camp, Charlie said: "I heard them fellows shooting,
but I reckon they didn't get nothing; maybe a duck or two, but nothing
fit to eat, like them fish you brought in."
"Yes," said Jack, "I heard the shot, but it was from the shot-gun, not
from a rifle."
In the meantime the party in the canoe had pushed its way quite a long
distance up the river. There was a possibility that a deer might be
seen along the bank, or a brood of ducks feeding in the shallow water,
and rifles and shot-gun were ready to secure anything that might make
its appearance. For a long way the canoe advanced through the dense
forest without much difficulty. Then it came to a series of shallow
rapids, up which so large a craft could not be taken. The canoe was
then drawn as near the bank as possible. The Indian carried the two
white men ashore on his shoulders, and all three followed up the stream
through the now darkening woods. They found many old tracks of deer,
and from time to time passed the fresher slide of an otter; but no game
was seen. As the light grew more and more dim, they faced about, went
back to the canoe, and turned its nose down the stream.
As the vessel swept noiselessly along the swift current, two or three
broods of ducks were surprised by its sudden approach from behind the
bend. On the upward journey the birds, warned by the noise of the
paddles, had seen the craft before it was near them, and had crept
ashore and hidden themselves in the grass. But now there was not time
for this. A flock of mallards, startled from the water, sprang away in
flight, and two of them were stopped by Fannin, and fell back into the
stream, to be picked up by Hamset as the canoe swept by.
It was only gray light next morning when all hands were astir. While
the breakfast was being cooked bundles of bedding were rolled up and
transported to the shore; and as soon as breakfast was over and the
dishes washed, the canoe was pushed off and loaded; the paddlers
took their places, and they set out again at just six o'clock by Mr.
Fannin's watch.
The day was bright and pleasant, with light airs from half a dozen
quarters, but no breeze strong enough to justify the setting of the
sail.
Just after they had pushed out of the mouth of the river, Jack called
Fannin's attention to a flock of birds sitting on the water; and they
were presently made out to be scoter ducks, of two kinds. There was an
enormous multitude of them, and almost all seemed to be males. When too
closely approached, fifty or five hundred of them would rise on the
wing, swing out over their fellows, and then alight on the outside of
the flock.
"Where in the world do all those birds come from, Mr. Fannin?" asked
Jack. "These are the birds that we call coots down on the Atlantic
coast; but I don't think at any one time I ever saw so many of them as
we see this morning."
"I don't know just what they're doing here," said Fannin. "But, as
nearly as I can see with my glasses, they seem to be all males; and I
shouldn't be a bit surprised if the females were all ashore, at little
springs or lakes, raising their broods. Pretty soon these birds will
begin to moult, and then the Indians will try to get around them and
drive them ashore and kill them. But this is a method that seldom
succeeds with these birds. If they see that they are going to be forced
on the shore they will dive and swim back under the boat."
"That's pretty smart," said Jack. "I have heard of the loons doing
something like that, but I didn't suppose a coot had sense enough for
that."
"Yes," said Fannin, "that's what they're said to do."
As they paddled along the head of a seal appeared above the water,
close to them, and after watching them for a moment or two sank back
out of sight.
"Son, why don't you try one of those fellows with your rifle,"
suggested Hugh. "It looks as if there were time enough to draw a bead
on one and kill it. I hear these Indians eat that sort of meat; and I
suppose what they can do we can too, if we get a chance."
Jack pulled his gun out of its case, put a couple of cartridges in his
vest pocket, and declared he would try the seals the next time one gave
him a chance. He did so, but the animals kept their heads above water
so short a time that he was unable to get a satisfactory sight on one,
and did not fire.
"Well," said Hugh, "these fellows are pretty watchful and pretty quick;
and as you don't know when they're coming up, it's a pretty hard matter
to shoot at them."
"So it is," said Fannin, "and yet I think if one had practice enough
they would be easy to kill. Certainly the Indians here, and still more
to the north, get a great many of them, shooting them and then paddling
quickly up and putting a spear in them before they sink. These little
seals that we see are, of course, nothing but the common harbor seal;
but when the big fur-seal herds pass up the coast the Indians get a
good many of them in that way, though many are killed by paddling up
close to them when they are asleep on the water and spearing them. A
long line is attached to the lance, the head of which is barbed, so
that it will not draw out; and at length they pull the seal up close to
the canoe and kill it, either with a club or by spearing it again. Seal
meat and seal oil are pretty important parts of the native food supply
on this coast; but more so to the north than down here, where the food
is more varied."
"Well," said Hugh, "we've surely got to get some fresh meat of one kind
or other, on this trip; if we don't, our grub will give out, and we'll
have to travel back to the settlement hungry. There seems to be a world
of food lying around,--deer, and fish, and seals, and all that. You
see, Fannin, Jack and I are prairie men, and don't know how to earn
a living on this water. If we were travelling back on the plains, or
in the mountains, we'd think it mighty queer if we couldn't keep the
camp in meat; but here we don't know how to go to work to do it. Don't
either of these Indians understand how to catch these fish or to kill
these animals?"
"I expect the Indians do," said Fannin, "but I don't, for I never have
had occasion to live in the country along the shore here. I'm something
like you, a mountain hunter. But we ought to be able to catch some
salmon, and to do it right here. You know that in a few days or weeks
now all the rivers along the coast will be full of salmon, running up
toward the heads of the stream to spawn. At the present time they are
gathering in the salt water, each fish pushing toward the mouth of the
river, in which it was hatched, and down which it made its way toward
the sea. They say that all salmon go back to the streams in which they
were bred to spawn. Now, when they are in salt water, and before they
reach the mouths of the rivers, the salmon will bite, and a great many
of them are caught by trolling, either with bait or with a spoon.
Haven't you some fishing tackle there that you could throw overboard
now, and let the bait follow the canoe? If we could get a few fish it
would help out mightily with our eating."
"Why, yes," said Jack; "of course there's some fishing tackle. Let's
get it out and try them."
Hugh bent down; and after fumbling in the provision box for a few
moments, brought out a package which he passed over to Fannin, saying
to him: "You know more about these things than either of us, and you'd
better pick out the lines and baits that are to be used."
The long, strong line, with a lure of metal and feathers attached to
it, was soon overboard, and dragging in the long sinuous wake that
stretched out behind the canoe. Jack held it in one hand as he wielded
the paddle. All the power that they had was needed to push the boat
along; and if one man should sit and fish in idleness it would not have
been fair to the others.
Jack sat hopefully, expecting each moment to feel a tug on the line,
but none came. "Tell me, Mr. Fannin," he asked, "don't salmon bite
after they get into the fresh water? You said that when in salt water
they were caught in numbers. Does that mean that they do not take the
bait in fresh water?"
"Yes," replied Fannin, "that's just what it means. When they get
into the fresh water they seem to lose all interest in the food
question, and will not take the bait or rise to a fly. Some friends
of mine, who are great fishermen, have tried bait,--spoons, flies,
and grasshoppers,--but no attention was paid to any of these things.
There's a story, you know, about some British commissioner, sent out
years ago, when England and the United States were quarrelling over
the question of who owned Oregon and Washington, and they say that
this commissioner was a great salmon angler. They say that he was here
during the salmon run, and fished the streams faithfully for them,
without even getting a rise, though he could see millions of them.
The story goes that he was so disgusted with the way the salmon acted
that he went back to England and reported that the great territory in
dispute was not worth quarrelling about, and not worth holding by Great
Britain, because the salmon in the stream would not rise to a fly."
"That's sure comical," said Hugh; "but after all there's a good deal of
human nature in it. We're all likely to look at things from our little
narrow point of view and to think only of matters as they interest us."
Before very long Jack found the holding of the trolling line something
of a nuisance, and at Fannin's suggestion passed it over to Jimmie,
the steersman, who tied it about one of his arms and kept up the work
of paddling. That there was salmon about now was very evident, for
great silvery fish were frequently seen jumping out of the water, or
floundering about on the surface, throwing shining drops about them in
showers.
"Why do these fish jump in that way, Mr. Fannin?" asked Jack. "It's
common enough to see fish jump out of the water and then fall back, but
these, when they strike the water, act almost like a fish thrown on
the shore, and flopping there."
"The Indians say," replied Fannin, "and I guess very likely it's
true, that this flopping around by the salmon is done for the purpose
of ridding themselves of certain parasites that are attached to
their bodies. I've often seen these parasites. They are flat, oval
crustaceans, and a good deal like the common sow bugs--those little
flattish, purple, many-legged bugs that we find under the bark of dead
trees or sometimes under stones, back in the East. Almost all salmon
caught in salt water have some of these things stuck to them, sometimes
only one and sometimes a dozen. They will be found chiefly about the
fins, and especially on those of the back. They cling closely to the
skin, and some force is needed to dislodge them; but as soon as the
fish get in the fresh water they die and drop off."
They were paddling along, not very far from a kelp bed, which lay north
and south, along the channel that they were following for a mile or
more, when suddenly Jimmie dropped his paddle and began to haul in
on his line. A moment's work, however, showed that he had no fish on
it, and he let it go again. But Fannin told him to draw in the line
and see that the spoon was all right; for it occurred to him that the
current might have carried the spoon in among the leaves of the kelp
bed, that it might have caught in one of them, and been torn off. When
the end of the line was recovered it appeared that this was just what
had happened; and Fannin, grumbling at the Indian's carelessness, put
on another spoon and threw the line overboard, but this time kept it
in his own hand. It had hardly straightened out, when there was a
violent tug on it, and Fannin dropped his paddle and began to haul in
the line rapidly, hand over hand. Every one in the boat was more or
less excited at the capture, and they all stopped paddling. The great
fish was drawn nearer and nearer; sometimes out of sight, and sometimes
struggling on the surface of the water and making a great splashing. It
was not very long before it was close to the side. All the paddles were
taken in; and Fannin, being very careful to keep the fish away from
the side of the canoe, let his right hand down close to the line, and
grasped the fish close behind the gills, and lifted it into the canoe.
Jack, Hugh, and Charlie cheered vigorously, and the Indians grinned
with delight.
It was a fine silvery fish, of ten pounds weight, fat and firm,
promising delicious food. The fish was passed aft for the inspection
of Hugh and Jack; and Fannin called their especial attention to the
presence on its back of three of the parasites of which they had been
talking only a few moments ago. Then, after they had all admired the
fish, it was laid aside in a shady place and the canoe went on.