A MOTHER'S COURAGE
As they turned north again and paddled on up the inlet the talk was
naturally of the wonders that they had just left.
"Surely," said Jack, "this is the most wonderful place that I have ever
seen."
"Yes, indeed," said Hugh, "it beats all the countries that my eyes have
ever rested on, and I never expect to see anything so wonderful again."
"It was beautiful," said Fannin, "and how cold and gloomy it was one
moment and how bright and beautiful the next."
"Yes," said Jack, "and yet when it was brightest and most beautiful it
seemed cold all the time. It reminded me of what I've read about the
Arctic regions. There was not a thing but snow and ice and just a few
straggling stunted trees. I remember reading somewhere about a point
down at the other end of South America where there is nothing to be
seen but rocks and a little timber and snow and icebergs. That is the
way Princess Louise seemed to me, but I do wish that we had had time to
land and follow up that big river toward those heights."
"That would have been a nice trip," said Fannin; "but I guess it would
have been an awful hard one. It looked to me as if those rocks were big
and hard to climb among. We'd have had to carry our beds and our grub
on our backs, and it might have taken us a long time to get up even to
the foot of that big peak that stood up so high."
"Yet, I suppose there must be lots of life up there," said Jack; "birds
and animals, and of course if there are birds and animals there must be
vegetation to support them."
"Sure," said Fannin. "I don't doubt but that there are goats and deer
and ptarmigan, probably bears, and possibly other animals. Of course
the sheep don't get down so close to the salt water, at least I have
never seen them there. I don't doubt, though, but there's plenty of
life up there."
"Anyhow," said Jack, "it looks as if the country had not changed a
bit since the glacier came pouring down through those valleys and was
working its way toward the salt water."
"I don't believe it has," said Fannin, "except that trees have grown;
perhaps some little soil has been made here and there; but except for
that I suppose the country is unchanged."
For a while they paddled on in silence, and then, as they rounded a
point, came a call from Fannin: "Hello! there's an Indian village."
Three or four houses stood on the bank but a short distance back from
the water's edge, and near them were a few people busy at different
tasks. When they saw the canoe they all stopped and began to stare
at it. Down on the beach, just above the water's edge was an old man
working over a canoe. Fannin said: "Let's push in there and see if we
can buy some potatoes or other food." They pushed up to the beach,
and when close to it saluted the old man with the usual phrase,
"_Kla-haw-ya tillicum?_" (How are you, friend?) The man gave an
answering shout, and Hamset turned to them and said: "I guess he can't
talk with us"; which was Fannin's translation into English.
[Illustration: WHEN THEY SAW THE CANOE THEY ALL STOPPED AND BEGAN TO
STARE AT IT--_Page 190_]
They landed and found that the man was mending some cracks in his canoe
by fastening over them strips of tin, seemingly cut from an old tin
can, by means of tacks and a primitive stone hammer--a cylinder of
stone with enlarged flat ends.
Hamset began to talk with him in Chinook, but the man apparently did
not understand, and replied by a speech in some language which Hamset
could not comprehend. There was a long talk, in which each of the two
Indians made a speech, which was not understood by the other. Fannin
tried the old man in Canadian French, and Hugh made signs to him,
but there seemed to be no common ground of communication. After each
remark by the old man, Hamset would hopelessly reply after hearing him
through: "_Wake nika kumtux-mika wahwah_" (I don't understand your
talk).
Within a rude fence near one of the houses was what looked like a
garden, in which were growing plants that resembled potatoes. Presently
a bright thought came to Jack, and he walked down to the canoe, took
from the provision box a potato and handed it to the old man. It was
amusing to them all to see the expression of perplexity clear away from
the old Indian's face and understanding and satisfaction appear. He
laughed delightedly and shouted to the women at the house, and a little
later two of them came down carrying a large basket of potatoes--and
very good ones too. These were put into the canoe, and paid for by
"four bits." Then at Hugh's suggestion Jack gave the old man a piece
of tobacco. They wandered up to the houses, looked into them, and
presently returned to the neighborhood of the canoe. Leaning against
one of the houses was a two-pronged salmon spear, which Jack wanted
and which the old man sold him for half a dollar. Jack thought that
the implement might be useful a little later, as the salmon were now
beginning to run into the fresh water streams in considerable numbers.
Hamset said that these Indians were called Hanéhtsin. He declared
that most of the people must be away fishing, and said that there must
be many of them who could speak Chinook, although this man could not.
Next morning as they were eating breakfast a canoe came in sight from
the direction of the village, and when it landed the paddlers proved
to be their friends of the night before, who brought them some more
potatoes and several salmon just from the water. These having been duly
paid for at the rate of twenty-five cents each--for a twenty pound
salmon--they brought forth from the canoe a large basket of berries
which a small boy who was with them, and who had some knowledge of the
Chinook jargon, announced was a "potlatch," or gift--very likely in
return for the bit of tobacco that Jack had given to the old man the
night before.
A little later, the canoe being loaded, the party pushed off from the
shore, and, leaving the Indians sitting idly in their canoes, paddled
back down the inlet.
"What I can't understand, Mr. Fannin," said Jack, "is how it is that
these Indians don't understand one another. Of course, I don't suppose
that all the different tribes on this coast speak the same language,
any more than our Indians out on the plains, but I should suppose that
there would be some common way of talking to each other, just as the
plains Indians all understand the sign language."
"Well," said Fannin, "you'd think so, of course, but that's one of
the queer things about this country. While often you'll find a great
many villages that speak the same language, and while you'll find
in most of the villages a number of people that can talk Chinook,
it's nevertheless the fact that stowed away in bays and inlets all
along this coast are little tribes that speak a language that is not
understood by any other tribe. I have talked with a few people out
here who were regular Indian 'sharps,' and who had been among Indians
over most of the country, and they say that there are a number of
Indian languages spoken here that are absolutely different from each
other and different from any other languages in North America. This is
a mighty queer thing, and I can't understand it at all. I've always
supposed that it was this fact that obliged the Indians to get up this
Chinook jargon, which is a kind of a trade talk, used all up and down
the coast and a good way inland, too, to enable these people to talk
among themselves. I have never seen any of these Indians here using
the sign language, and you can see for yourself that this old chap did
not understand what it was that Hugh was trying to say to him with his
hands. They do say that this Chinook jargon was gotten up before the
white men came here to this country, and you can see how necessary it
would be to people coming in contact with others who spoke a language
different from their own. Now, I suppose that in the old times there
used to be considerable travel along this coast, north and south, and
considerable intercourse between the different tribes of Indians.
And while we know that the northern Indians could not talk with the
southern ones, yet they visited and traded, and made war and made peace
again. It must have been necessary for them to understand each other
in some way, and that's the way this jargon came to be invented. Of
course, it's changed a lot, I fancy, and especially since the white
people got in here."
"But about this Indian here," said Hugh, "it seems to me that he ought
to be able to understand our Indians. Their villages cannot be more
than a hundred miles from one another, and to an Indian a hundred miles
is nothing. These Ucletah must sometimes come up to the head of this
Inlet, and these people who live up here, Hanéhtsin,--don't you call
them,--must go down the inlet and go up and down the shore. It would
seem as if they must have met sometimes, and as if they would have some
common speech."
"Yes," said Fannin. "They ought to, but I don't believe they have.
Of course I know no more about them than you do, but you saw the
experiments that were tried upon that old chap that we've just left."
"Yes," said Hugh, "there's no going back on that. He didn't understand,
no matter how much he ought to have understood."
"Hugh," said Jack, "did you count the number of people at the village?"
"Yes," said Hugh, "I did: three women, three children, and the old man."
"Well," said Jack, "did you count the dogs?"
"No," said Hugh; "I reckon I forgot to count the dogs. There were a lot
of them, I know."
"Nineteen," said Jack. "I counted them. Three or four times I had
them all counted, and then a lot more would show up. There were a lot
lying down sunning themselves when I got there, and after they had got
up and come round to threaten us, a lot more came out of the house.
This nineteen that I counted didn't include the pups. I looked into a
little pen built of sticks, near one of the houses, and there were nine
puppies in there, just able to waddle, and I saw some others not much
older wandering about."
"Ah," said Charlie, "call it 'Dogtown'; we haven't any better name for
it."
"All right," laughed Jack. "I'll put it down."
"Mr. Fannin," said Jack, after a pause, "I was thinking last night of
the hammer that that old Siwash was using to mend his canoe. That was a
regular primitive implement, wasn't it?"
"Yes," said Fannin; "you often see the Indians still using these
hammers. I suppose to an Indian they are just as good, and maybe lots
better, than a white man's hammer."
"Yes," said Jack, "I don't see why they shouldn't be; but while the
hammer was old-fashioned and primitive, the strip of tin which he was
nailing over the cracks in the bottom of the canoe and the tacks were
modern. Where do you suppose he got them?"
"Why, from a trading schooner, of course," said Fannin. "There are
three or four small schooners that sail up and down the coast here,
trading with the Indians for oil and fish, and a little fur, and the
chances are that the tin came from some old tin can thrown overboard by
such a schooner, and that the tacks were bought from it. Of course it
may be that these people have been to Comux or even to Nanaimo."
"That salmon spear is interesting, too," said Jack, "and I hope we'll
have a chance to get some food with it."
"These spears," replied Fannin, "are very useful to these people. This
one, as you see, is about sixteen feet long, the main shaft being
about twelve feet and the two prongs about four. It is a well finished
tool and rather attractive to the eye, wrapped as it is with the neat
strips of bark about the ends of the shaft. That flat handle with the
deep notches at the upper end, for two of the fingers of the man who
is to throw it, give a good hold. Then the two prongs at the other end
bound firmly to the shaft, and tapering to a point below, and slightly
diverging, make a good implement for throwing into a school of fish;
but the interesting part of the thing is the way the spear heads are
fastened on to make it effective. You see the line looped about the
shaft close above the point where the diverging prongs leave it, that
each end of the line is long enough to reach clear to the end of the
prongs, and that to each extremity of this line is attached a spear
point. The socket which slips on the sharpened end of the prong is
made of the horn of the deer, or of the mountain goat, or even of bone;
and the piercing point is either a sharpened nail or some other sharp
bit of iron lashed to the socket with a fishing line or a strand of
kelp. When the spear is to be used, the heads are slipped on to the
points of the prongs, and are held in position by the tension of the
cord, which is so short that some little effort is needed to slip the
socket on to the point. When a salmon has been deeply pierced by the
iron point, his struggles slip the socket off the prong and the fish
struggles about for a few moments at the end of the cord until he is so
exhausted that he can be brought to the surface of the water and lifted
into the canoe. If the point were firmly attached to the prongs the
attempt to haul a vigorous fish to the surface might very well result
in the pulling out of the spear point and the loss of the fish."
All the day long the canoe moved slowly down the Inlet, stemming the
flood tide which at times made them all work at their paddles with an
energy that no one of the crew greatly enjoyed. Before them the snowy
tops of the mountains and the blue glaciers looked cool and inviting,
but no breath of air ruffled the smooth surface of the Inlet, and the
fierce rays of the sun, both direct and reflected from the water,
scorched them all day long. About the middle of the afternoon, as
they were passing a point opposite Moorsam Bluffs, a level spot was
found, covered with forest. A pleasant brook ran down here, and the
spot looked like an attractive camping place. When they landed they
found evidences that it was one favored by the Indians of the Inlet,
for there were here relics of many a camp. Piles of stone blackened
by fire, white heaps of the bones of the deer and mountain goat,
decayed vegetation and fragments of discarded clothing and skins,
worn-out implements, a tiny baby basket or Indian cradle, and many
other articles left by former occupants were scattered about over the
ground, and showed that the Indians often stopped there and sometimes
remained for a considerable time. In fact there were so many evidences
of human occupancy that it was agreed that some other spot which had
not been quite so much frequented by Indians would be a better location
for their camp; and moving a few hundred yards further down the Inlet
they found such a place at the mouth of the boisterous brook which here
tumbled into the salt water.
Here Jack and Hugh and Fannin, finding a good beach, took a plunge
in the salt water, and while thus engaged found that the little bay
was alive with salmon. On shouting this to the others the Indians put
off in the canoe, and for half an hour Hamset perseveringly threw the
salmon spear into the school of fish that were breaking everywhere
about the canoe. For a few minutes Jack and Hugh watched him; but as
he failed to secure anything, they soon grew tired, and at length went
ashore into the camp. Half an hour later the canoe returned to the
shore, and the Indians had three good-sized fish to show for their
efforts.
"Well," said Hugh, "from the number of fish that seemed to be out there
in that little piece of water, I should think these fellows might have
loaded the canoe with them in this time."
"Yes," said Fannin, "that's true; but it's wonderful how much room
there is in the water around a salmon, and then you have got to hit
the fish just right or else you will not drive the spear into him.
If you are not used to seeing salmon you will think there's an awful
lot of fish out there; but you just ought to see them in some of the
rivers in the Province here. Why, sometimes they are so thick that you
literally can't see the bottom for their backs. A good many people,
who have never been on a stream during the salmon run, think that the
stories about their abundance must be lies; but they are not. You can't
exaggerate their numbers. I have seen people go down to the stream with
a pitchfork, and throw out the fish they wanted onto the bank, just as
you would lift a load of turnips on a fork if you thrust it into a pile
of them. When the fish are running, of course, the bears and eagles
have no trouble at all in catching all they want. Even the hogs go down
to the stream and take out the fish. In fact, during the salmon run,
and for some months after it, settlers who expect to kill their hogs
keep them shut up; because, if they are allowed to feed on the salmon
the flesh becomes flavored with fish to a point where people can't eat
it. That sounds like a pretty good story too, but it's true. Later
in the season, when the dead fish are in the streams,--and there are
always many of them,--the hens of the settlers eat them, and often eat
so many that their eggs can't be used on account of the fishy taste.
That's another good one, but it's true."
"Well," said Hugh, "those stories sound pretty hard to believe, but I
guess they are true. Of course we've always heard about buffaloes, and
how many there used to be, and I expect I've told stories to people who
had never seen them, about the numbers of these animals that sounded
just as hard to believe as your stories do to me. It don't trouble me a
little bit to believe what you told me about the taste of the flesh of
these animals. Everybody knows, I reckon, that the food that an animal
eats gives its flesh good flavor or bad flavor."
"Yes," said Jack, "that's so, of course. I have heard my uncle tell a
great many times about some kinds of ducks living up on Long Island and
eating little clams and other shell-fish, and being strong and fishy to
the taste, while the same ducks, when they go down South and live in
water that is fresh or nearly so, eating nothing but grass and roots,
are as delicate and fine flavored as can be."
"That's gospel truth, son," said Hugh, "and you see the same thing
out on the plains and in the mountains. Take it early in the season,
before the grass begins to grow, and the first green thing that grows
out of the earth is a wild onion. If you kill, up at the edge of the
mountains, a buffalo or a mountain sheep, just after these onions have
sprung up, you can hardly eat the meat."
"Yes," remarked Jack, "and I have heard, too, that the milk of the cows
is often flavored with these onions."
"I know that's so," assented Fannin.
"But what gets me," said Hugh, "is the multitude of these salmon that
there must be. Of course we haven't seen many of them; but from what
you say, Fannin, they just crowd every river that comes into the salt
water, and there are an awful lot of rivers along this coast."
The camp had a great dinner that night. The Indians transfixed a large
fat salmon with a stick, which was thrust into the ground so that it
overhung the fire at an angle. There the salmon roasted until it was
done, and then its bones were picked as clean as any bear could have
picked them. A smaller salmon, slim and red fleshed, was cut into
steaks and fried, and there was unlimited deer meat. It was all very
delicious; and after the meal was over the party sat around the fire
for a little while, too lazy to talk, and then went to bed.
The next morning, before the canoe was loaded, Jack spent an hour or
two leaning over its side, and watching the movements of the different
marine animals at work in the shallow water near the shore. There
were hundreds of little crabs, the largest about the size of a silver
half-dollar, clambering over the stones like so many goats, and
apparently feeding on the vegetable matter that grew on them. They
walked slowly here and there, plucking the food with their curiously
swollen white claws, using the right and left claw alternately, so that
while one was holding the food to the mouth the other was gathering
a fresh supply. They seemed wholly absorbed in what they were doing.
Their jaws moved continuously, and they had a most businesslike and
methodical aspect. The larger crabs were of a deep purple color, while
the smaller ones were mostly dull, grayish green, a protective color
which corresponded very closely with that of the stones on which they
fed. They seemed to get along peaceably; though once in a while,
if a small crab came too near a large one, the latter would make a
threatening dash at the little fellow, which would at once retreat with
many defensive demonstrations of its claws.
Fixed to the sides of many of the stones were the curved white tubes of
marine worms; some of them deserted and empty; while from the mouths of
others there protruded a cluster of deep crimson tentacles, the whole
looking like some beautiful white-stemmed flower. If the red cluster
was cautiously approached and touched it instantly withdrew into the
tube which then appeared empty. But five minutes later a small spot
of red began slowly to appear, far down in the tube; and gradually
drawing nearer the aperture, the arms would be gently thrust out, and
the animal would resume its flower-like appearance. On certain stones
and rocks were great numbers of barnacles, which were not the least
interesting of the living creatures Jack saw. At those stages of the
tide when the water did not reach them their shells remained closed,
and showed no signs of life; but as soon as they were fairly covered by
the water, each little pair of valves opened, and the tiny arms were
extended and waved through the air with a regular motion which ceased
only when they had grasped some morsel of food that was floating by.
When this took place the arms were quickly drawn into the shell, and
the valves closed; and for some little time the animal remained quiet.
On the beach and in the water were many sea urchins and starfish, some
of which moved about over the bottom. Both progressed slowly; the sea
urchins by a continuous motion of the long spines, with which their
shells are covered; and though the animal's rate of advance could
hardly be noticed if one kept looking at it, Jack found that they did
move, and seemed to be capable of quite long journeys. Jack took up one
of these sea urchins to look at its under side, and found that it had
a continuous movement of the mouth and soft parts, as though striving
to obtain air. When he put it into the water again he placed it on its
back, on a flat stone, and was interested in seeing it turn over and
right itself by the same quiet, but continuous, movement of the spines.
The starfish moved much more rapidly than the sea urchins. They seemed
to drag themselves along by some slight up and down motion of their
arms, and also by hooking the ends of these arms around the angles
of the rocks, thus pulling themselves forward for a short distance.
Starfish were very common along this coast, and were of all sizes and
colors. Jack had noticed them brown, black, yellow, orange, red, and
purple. They ranged in size from the diameter of a five-cent piece
up to ten inches across the arms. They seemed most abundant on the
shore just about low water mark, but were by no means confined to this
situation.
Often they were seen clinging to the rocks where they had been left
bare by the tide; and sometimes a great cluster of the large red or
purple ones were collected in an angle of the rock, showing against
a background of shining black mussels and brown seaweed with very
striking effect.
A light breeze blowing down the Inlet made it possible to set the
sail, and the canoe slipped rapidly along over the water. The tide was
ebbing, and their progress was good; but at length a turn in the fiord
shut off the breeze, the paddles were called for, and they had several
hours of hard paddling. The canoe was passing so close to the shore
that the mountains on that side were hidden from view, while on the
other shore the hills were low and not especially picturesque. Jack
kept looking at one point after another, hoping that each would be the
last, and that when the one ahead was rounded he would see the broad
waters of the beautiful bay into which they had looked some days before
toward the Twin Falls. After several disappointments he said to Hugh:
"Hugh, this reminds me of riding over the plains. I have been watching
these points, hoping that each would be the last, just as when riding
over the prairies I always looked at the hill ahead of me and thought
that from that hill I should be able to see some distance; but there
was always another one just beyond."
"Yes," said Hugh, "I know just what the feeling is, and I guess
everybody does who has ever travelled the prairies. Why, even the
Indians tell about some man who prophesied to them long ago, when dogs
were their only animals, about a time when they would get horses. He
said that when they got horses they would always be on the move, and
that they would ride up on a hill and see another hill beyond; and then
they would want to get to that one to see what was beyond it; and so
would keep going all the time, and never be quiet."
It was the middle of the afternoon when the last point was rounded and
they came in sight of the Twin Falls. Even then an hour or two was
needed to bring the canoe to what looked like a good camping place,
near the falls. When they reached the shore they were disappointed,
for the timber was so thick and high, and the cliff over which the
water fell was so nearly straight up and down, that it was impossible
to obtain any view of the cataract from the land. But by pushing out
a few hundred yards from the shore its whole majesty was seen. Two
wide streams of water flow on either side of an island in the river,
plunging over the cliffs, and falling quite five hundred feet before
they meet with any check; then from here are two more leaps of three
hundred feet each, and then other lesser ones of two hundred or one
hundred and fifty feet. The stream falls between dark green walls of
Douglas firs on either side; and the rocky face of the mountains is
entirely hidden. Before the water strikes the rocks it has become
spray, and from each little bench thin clouds of white mist rise to
the treetops and float off with the wind. The dull roar of the Falls
is almost deafening. Sometimes it sinks to the muttering of distant
thunder, and then rises louder than before, sounding like the boom
of heavy guns in the distance. Close over the tops of the trees they
saw, as they first approached the spot, a splendid white-headed eagle,
swinging about on motionless wing. Now and then, as he turned, the
bright sunlight flashed upon his head and tail, and caused them to
shine like silver, while his dark body looked black against the sky.
Unmoved by the tumult below him, and unshaken by the blasts that were
now causing the mighty trees to bend their heads, he floated to and
fro in his broad eyrie, the only living thing seen in all the wide
landscape.
On landing, it took some time to fix the tent and cut the fir and
hemlock boughs which were needed to make comfortable the uneven ground
where the beds were to be spread. But after this had been done Jack
took his rifle and declared that he was going up the hill to see what
he could see. Hugh said that he would go too, and the two set off.
From the spot where the camp had been pitched a broad, well-beaten
trail led up to the mountains. But this soon grew very steep. Great
boulders had to be climbed over or gone around. Great green leaves and
a slippery moss hid the ground and made it difficult to know just where
they were stepping. More than once Jack, who was in the lead, narrowly
escaped an ugly fall. Presently the trail gave out or was lost, and
then the easiest mode of progress was to walk along the fallen tree
trunks, which in many places lay piled high on one another, as a lot
of jackstraws would look if thrown down at random. Even such a road
presented some difficulty; for sometimes a span of the bridge would be
missing, and it would be necessary to descend to the ground and clamber
up among the rocks.
At last the first leap of the falls was reached, but from here very
little could be seen, for the foliage and mist entirely obscured the
view. Further up, for a hundred yards on either side of the stream, the
ground and the foliage were damp and dripping from the heavy spray,
and the wet moss which covered everything made climbing difficult and
even dangerous. The forest along the stream was open, and Jack and Hugh
pursued their way, sometimes being obliged to climb up walls that were
almost vertical. Still higher up the forest began to give way to little
open parks, and before very long the appearance of the sky above them
showed that the timber was either much lower or entirely absent. They
were not greatly surprised, then, when after a little time they came
out of the forest into an open country, in the midst of which was a
high, naked, rocky hill.
At different points on the hill they saw a number of white objects
which they recognized as goats. They did not feel that they needed
any goats, but these animals were still sufficiently new to Hugh and
Jack to make them wish to see them again at closer range. A little
manoeuvring took them out of the sight of the goats, and they began
to climb the hill. After they had ascended some distance they crept
out onto a rocky point and could see, above, below, and on each side
of them, small groups of these animals feeding on the ledges and steep
slopes. Quite close to them was an old goat, about which was playing a
little kid, not a beautiful or graceful object, but one very curious in
its clumsiness and its high spirits. It ran about its mother before and
behind, sometimes climbing a little way up on a steep bank, and then
throwing itself down on its side, rolling over and over until a level
place was reached, when it would rise, and after a rest climb up the
slope and repeat the performance. The mother paid little attention to
her young one, but fed slowly along, constantly approaching closer and
closer to Jack and Hugh, who commented on the goats' odd appearance and
their no less extraordinary actions.
[Illustration: DROVE HER SHORT HORNS DEEP INTO HIS SIDE--_Page 205_]
Suddenly Hugh stretched out his hand and caught Jack's arm and
whispered to him: "Look at that lion!" Jack looked, but could see
nothing, and before he could ask the question "Where?" a great yellow
animal flashed out from the top of a bank close to the old goat, flew
through the air, and fell upon the back of the kid, which sank to
the ground with a low, whining cry. Instantly the mother whirled on
her hind legs, and with a swiftness hardly to be believed of such a
clumsy-looking animal, plunged at the panther crouching on the ground
over the kid and drove her short horns deep into his side back of the
shoulder. The force of the blow knocked the animal to the ground, but
he turned, bent the fore part of his body round and grasped the goat by
the back and side with both paws, and seized her body with his teeth
back of the fore shoulder. The goat seemed to draw back a few inches,
and then made another plunge forward, driving her horns into her enemy
again. The panther loosened his hold on the goat, struggled to his
feet, and staggered a half dozen steps away, and then fell over on his
side. The mother goat made no effort to pursue him, but nosed at the
dying kid, as if trying to induce it to get on its feet again. On her
side were a few drops of blood, where the panther's claws had scratched
her, but on neither side of the ridge of the back where he had clawed
her with the other foot and had bitten her was there to be seen any
evidence of an injury.
This had all happened so quickly that the watchers had no time to
comment on it nor to shoot. When it was over they sat up and looked at
each other, no longer thinking to hide from the goat.
"That's a wonderful thing to have seen, isn't it?" said Jack.
"Yes," said Hugh. "I confess it beats me. It reminds me a little bit
of that story I was telling you the other night about the buffalo bull
that killed the bear. Who'd have thought that that goat could have
killed that panther. I've always heard that these mountain goats were
great hands to fight, and that they didn't know enough to be afraid of
anything; but I never expected to see it myself as we have seen it."
"But where did that lion come from?" said Jack. "I didn't see him until
he jumped."
"He was lying right on that ledge over there when I first saw him,
crouched flat all except his head, which was lifted high enough to just
see over the bank. As soon as I saw him I grabbed you, and a minute
after he jumped," explained Hugh.
"Well," said Jack, "we want to take his hide back with us to camp. I
expect he's dead, all right."
"Yes," said Hugh, "I guess he's dead, but what about the old goat?
She's going to stay with that kid of hers, and I surely don't want to
walk up any too close to her. She's likely to treat us the way she did
the panther."
"Yes, I guess so," said Jack; "and, of course, we don't want to kill
her, though, to be sure, her head would go mighty well with that
panther skin."
"I'll tell you," said Hugh, "let's go round a little bit and get above
her and roll some rocks down, and perhaps she will walk off."
This suggestion was carried out, and the old goat at length was induced
to leave her kid and slowly go off, finally disappearing over a ledge
at some distance. Jack and Hugh went down to look at the panther. They
found in his side, just back of the shoulder, four round perforations,
and discovered that four of his ribs had been broken where the goat's
head had struck him. After they had skinned him they found that the
beast's lungs had been pierced three times by the goat's horns and the
heart once. It was no wonder that the cat had died.
"I suppose," said Hugh, "that we might as well take that kid along with
us. It's eatable, and the Indians probably will like it just as well as
deer meat."
"All right," said Jack. "If you will take the skin, I will take the
kid."
"Come on, then," said Hugh. "We had better hurry, it's getting on
toward dark; and the road down this hill is a rough one."
By the time that they reached the trail below it was quite dark, but
they met with no accident. When they reached camp again they had an
interesting story for Fannin. The Indians, too, gathered around and
asked the meaning of the holes in the panther's skin, remarking that
they did not look like bullet holes, and there were no places where the
balls had come out. Fannin explained to them what had taken place. The
Indians nodded sagely, and Hamset said to Fannin: "Once before I've
heard of a thing like this. I have also heard of a goat fighting a
bear that had killed her kid, and driving it away. These white sheep
are great fighters. I have seen them killed with many marks on their
skins, showing where they had been cut by the horns of others they had
been fighting with; and I have seen two which had in their hams the
horns of other goats that had been broken off in the flesh. They fight
a good deal. One of my relations once told me that he had crept up
close to a goat, and rose up to shoot the animal. When it saw him, it
put all its hair forward and rushed at him, but he killed it before it
reached him."
Jack, Hugh, and Fannin spent some time that night over the panther
skin, cleaned it and laced it over a frame where it might dry. Whether
it would dry or spoil would, of course, depend upon the weather of the
next few days. Bright, dry weather with some wind would surely cure the
skin; but continued damp weather, which would keep it moist, would as
surely spoil it.
The camp ground that they occupied to-night had been used by Indians as
a stopping place, and lying on the beach were a number of bones. One of
the most oddly shaped ones was picked up by Fannin, who asked Jimmie
what animal it belonged to. The boy did not hesitate, but answered in
Chinook, "_Tuicecolecou_" (porpoise neck). Jack and Hugh were mightily
astonished at this identification, but Fannin pointed out to them that
this bone, which is made up of all of the vertebræ of the neck grown
together so as to form a single bone, is most characteristic, and could
scarcely have escaped the observation of the Indians, who kill great
numbers of these marine mammals.