LAST DAYS IN BRITISH COLUMBIA
As the Indians had said the trail was very steep, but after a time they
reached an open timber plateau country, beautiful to travel through but
without apparent game. After a little while, however, the timber grew
less, and they could see before them gently rolling hills from which at
some distance rose a bald, snowy mountain. They walked swiftly along,
and the great mountain grew nearer.
"I tell you, Hugh," said Jack, "that looks like a good sheep country!"
"Yes," said Hugh, "it does, and from what we have seen I expect there
are plenty of them there."
"This is the sort of place where we ought to find big rams," said Jack,
with a laugh.
"Right," replied Hugh; "but you've hunted enough to know that big rams
are not always found where they ought to be."
"No," said Jack, "that's an old story; the big rams are always 'farther
back.'"
"Yes," said Hugh, "they are always 'farther back,' but what that means,
I guess nobody knows. I expect that as a matter of fact, the big rams,
keeping together as they do, for all the season except in rutting time,
and being few in numbers compared with the ewes and young ones, are
harder to find, just because they are few in number."
The afternoon was far advanced when they reached the foot of the
mountain. Here, snow lay on the ground two or three inches deep. By a
little spring they found a white man's camp that had been made early
in the season. In the fresh snow Hugh pointed out to Jack the tracks of
a wolverine which had been about the camp recently, nosing around to
see what it could find. A few moments later one of the Indians came up,
and Hugh said: "Tom, do you know whose camp this is?"
"Yes," said Tom, "three young men who were here the moon before last.
They hunt a great deal. They fire a good many shots. Not kill many
animals."
The fireplace, the picket pins, and a shelter built of spruce boughs,
showed that the people had been here for some time.
"Well," said Hugh, "let's camp right here. There is a good shelter for
us in case it rains, as it looks likely to do now. Now, Tom, you and
Baptiste get supper, will you, and son and I will take a little walk
from the camp, and see what we can see."
The two started off, not toward the mountain but rather toward a large
ravine which ran down from it. They had gone but a few hundred yards,
when, as they were nearing the crest of a little ridge at the foot of
an old moraine which ran down from the mountain, Hugh put out his hand
and sank slowly down to the ground. Jack crouched beside him, and Hugh
said: "There's a sheep just over the ridge; crawl up and kill it." Jack
cautiously approached the ridge and looking over, saw not more than
seventy-five yards away a sheep walking away toward the next ridge. The
wind was right, and it was evident from the animal's actions that it
had neither seen nor smelt the men. Her hips were toward him, and he
did not wish to fire at her in that position for fear of spoiling the
meat, so he waited. A moment later she walked over the ridge and out
of sight, and Hugh and Jack followed. When they looked over the next
ridge, they saw the sheep, broad-side toward them. The sun was low and
glittered on Jack's front sight and troubled him a little; and he took
aim two or three times without pulling the trigger. As it was, he shot
a little too high, but the animal fell, and they hurried up to it. It
was moderately fat, and Jack and Hugh carried the meat into the camp on
their backs.
The next morning they were early afoot and climbed the mountain.
They had gone hardly a mile from the camp when they found seven
sheep feeding on a perfectly bare hillside where there was no cover
whatever. It was useless to try to approach them, and as they were in
the direction in which the two wanted to go, Hugh and Jack disregarded
them, and presently the sheep ran off. Constantly climbing, they came
nearer and nearer the top of the mountain. The grass began to give way
to pebbles and stones, and the snow got deeper and deeper. Presently
they reached the top of the mountain; and, crossing its narrow crest,
looked down into a beautiful little glacial basin which contained a
charming lake and meadow. Feeding in this meadow were twelve sheep,
far, far below them, and quite out of reach. The wind was blowing
fiercely across the mountain top and they crept down into a shelter
behind some rocks and for some time sat there and watched the sheep.
Soon after they were first seen, the animals went down to the border
of the lake and drank, and then came up on to the meadow again and lay
down. After a little while, some movement, or perhaps the glitter of
some piece of metal about the men, startled the sheep. They rose and
looked at them, and then walked off, and after a little while began to
feed again. Later, when Jack and Hugh got up and climbed to the top of
the mountain, the sheep, not much alarmed, moved slowly off and climbed
up the mountain side into a deep icy gorge in which was a great mass of
snow.
Jack and Hugh went on for some distance, looking down into one big
cañon after another, but seeing nothing more, turned back to go to the
camp. On the way back they came upon a flock of white-tailed ptarmigan
of which there were about twenty-five. Jack had never killed one of
these birds, and was anxious to have a full grown one in his hands.
"Is there any reason, Hugh," he asked, "why I should not kill one of
these birds?"
"None at all, so far as I see," said Hugh. "The wind is blowing so hard
that nothing ahead of us will be able to hear the firing. If you want
to kill one, do so."
The wind was blowing a perfect gale and when Jack approached the pretty
birds, they rose at some little distance, flew a few yards, and then
alighted on a snow bank in which they at once scratched out shallow
hollows where they crouched, more or less protected from the wind. The
gale made it difficult for Jack to hold his gun steady and the first
shot that he fired was a miss, for he overshot the bird. At the crack
of the gun they all rose and flew a little farther away, and his next
shot killed one. It was in almost full winter plumage, though there
were others in the flock that had only partly changed from the black
and tawny of summer to the white winter coat. Jack wanted to skin the
bird, but the ball from his rifle had raked its back and torn off a
great many feathers. Nevertheless he put it in his pocket so that at
night he would have an opportunity to study it by the light of the fire.
On the way home the two men had a beautiful view from the top of the
mountain, looking down into a most picturesque basin walled in on all
sides by superb mountains and containing a beautiful lake. Between the
tops of the mountains and the valley there were three benches or steps.
The lake lay in the valley.
The next morning Hugh loaded the Indians up with most of the camp
equipment and some of the meat, and sent them back to camp, he and
Jack retaining only their guns and blankets. They made a long round
of the lower slopes of the mountains, seeing a number of sheep, and
at length came to a place where deer were more numerous than they had
ever seen them before. It would have been easy to kill a great number,
but as they had no means of transporting the meat to the camp they did
not fire at all. Toward midday they came out into a little park where
a number of deer were lying down, and walking quietly up to them, got
within fifteen or twenty steps of the animals before they seemed to
take the alarm.
It was now time to turn back and return to camp. There Hugh and Jack
made packs of their blankets and set out for the lower ground. For some
time the tracks of the Indians were plainly visible,--but at length
it began to snow, and the tracks were soon covered. Moreover, their
landmark, the mountain which lay behind them, was no longer visible,
and the only guide they had was the wind, which blew from the right or
southeast.
"Well," said Hugh, "we've got to look out now, or we are liable to get
lost."
"Yes," said Jack, "it's quite likely that we won't be able to strike a
trail leading down the mountain, but of course we will be able to find
the camp."
"Oh, yes," said Hugh; "no trouble about that, only I would rather go
into camp by the same trail I left it by, if I can. However, if we
don't hit the trail the only thing we'll have to do is to follow down
the ridge to the river and there we'll find the trail of the packtrain,
and that will take us straight to the camp."
"It would be rather a good joke on you, Hugh," said Jack, "if we were
to get lost."
"So it would," said Hugh; "so it would, son. Perhaps we would have been
smarter if we hadn't sent those Indians off. Of course this is their
country and they know it, and you and I have never been here before.
We're all right, however, if the wind doesn't shift. If that should
change we might easily enough get twisted. However, we've got the river
sure to take us to camp."
An hour or two later, some time after they had got into the timber,
Hugh stopped and said: "Son, I think we're off the track. I believe
we've kept over too far to the left and have missed the trail. I don't
see anything that I recognize as having seen before."
"Well," said Jack, "you can't prove anything by me. I don't see
anything that I've seen before and this snow and these gray tree trunks
all look alike to me. I have been watching for the past half hour to
see where we were, but I haven't any idea of it."
"Well," said Hugh, "it's cold and snowy and likely to be wet; let's
push down to the river and get to camp that way, if we can't any
other." An hour and a half later they were going down a steep hill
clothed with lodge-pole pines, and before long had come to the level
land, and in a few moments were out of the timber. On the lower ground
the snow had changed to rain and the trees and bushes were wet. There,
before them, ran the river; and there close to the river was the
deep trail worn by the feet of the horses. Turning up the river they
followed the trail, climbed the hills, and just at dark were once more
in camp.
Ryder was a little disposed to laugh because they had come into camp
from the side opposite to that from which they had left it; but Hugh
said, and Jack agreed with him, that on a night like that it was good
to get to camp in any way they could.
The next day the train was packed early, and three days of long, fast
travel took them back to Hope. There they learned that the next morning
there would be a steamer down the river, and they prepared to take it.
Long before daylight, Hugh and Jack, with bags and blankets, were
waiting in the canoe for the appearance of the steamer and as soon
as it was seen coming they fired four shots to attract the pilot's
attention. Presently the boat shut off steam and began to back, and the
canoe was soon alongside. The baggage was tossed out; a handshake and
a good-by to Ryder and Baptiste, and after a moment more the wheels
were turning and the steamer sped down the river carrying Hugh and Jack
toward New Westminster. The night was spent here, a pleasant call made
on Mr. James, and the following morning they embarked for Victoria, and
the next night were at Tacoma, where they found Mr. Sturgis.
It was a pleasant meeting. Mr. Sturgis told them much about his mine,
and what he had seen on his journey to and from it, while Jack was full
of the beauties of the British Columbian coast. But he said, that as
far as he saw, it was not a good hunting country. "Of course, there are
lots of deer and goats and some bears, but they are too easily killed
to make hunting very good sport."
"But then," said Mr. Sturgis, "you really didn't hunt, did you? You
just followed the beach."
"That's true," said Hugh, "and it isn't fair, of course, to judge a
country that you have only just touched. Now, take it on that little
trip that we made from Hope. I don't know as I ever saw sheep and goats
so plenty, and there were plenty of deer in the only place we had time
to look for them. But of course we just put in a few days to use up the
time until we had to get here to see you."
"Well," said Jack, "I suppose that anybody who has been used to hunting
on the plains and on the foot-hills of the mountains where buffalo and
elk are plenty is likely to have a wrong idea of the game in a country
where the animals don't gather together in great big bunches."
"Yes," said Mr. Sturgis, "that's true enough, I guess."
After dinner that night Mr. Sturgis said: "Well, it is time for us
all to get back to our different jobs. You and I have got to go back
to the ranch, Hugh, and see how the beef round-up is getting on; and
you, Jack, have got to get East as fast as you can, and get to school.
I think as good a way as any for us to return is to go back over the
railroad that is just being built from Portland, and in that way we
will see a new country. The country will be new, even to you, Hugh,
won't it, as far east as Idaho?"
"Yes," said Hugh, "my range has never been out west of Lake Pend
d'Oreille and Flathead Lake and all this Oregon and Washington country
is new to me."
"Well," said Mr. Sturgis, "let's get down to Portland and then go up
the Columbia River till we strike the railroad. I know General Sharpe,
one of the officials of the road, and I think he will help us across
the break between the end of the track in Washington Territory and the
settlements in Montana. What do you say?"
"I say 'Bully!'" exclaimed Jack.
"It suits me," said Hugh, "but where will this bring us out?"
"Well," said Mr. Sturgis, "it ought to bring us out about Deer Lodge,
and there is a little narrow-gauge road being built over from Corinne
in Utah on the Union Pacific, which by this time must be somewhere near
these Montana towns. Of course, when we get on a railroad that connects
with the Union Pacific we are just about home."
The next morning the railroad carried them to Kalama, where they took
the steamer to Portland. The sail between the two points was beautiful.
At one time they could see from the steamer's deck no less than six
different snow-covered peaks, which ranged from nine to fourteen
thousand feet in height. These were Mt. Ranier, St. Helens, Adams,
Hood, Jefferson, and the Three Sisters. From Portland the steamer took
them up the Columbia River through a beautiful country to the Cascades.
For the first few miles of the sail the bottom was wide and the hills
were distant, but after a time they reached a stretch where the river
flowed between walls of rock. A great sheet of lava covers the whole
face of the country. From the hills, which stretch back from the river
and are covered with long yellow grass, rose numberless walls and piles
of lava rock which cast black shadows. The country was open, and the
park-like slopes were dotted with dark spruces and pines. Along the
river water and wind had worn the rocks into curious shapes, sometimes
like columns or obelisks, or again like great ovals set on end.
Along the bank of the river at several points thousands of
blue-bloused, broad-hatted Chinamen were busily at work, evidently on a
railroad embankment.
"This," Mr. Sturgis said, "is a railroad being built by the O. R. & N.
Company between Portland and the Dalles."
"Well," said Hugh, "it seems to be the same story everywhere; railroads
being built, and then people following the railroads; farms and big
towns growing up; the game all going, and when the game goes of course
the Indian goes too."
"Yes," said Mr. Sturgis, "this is material prosperity for the United
States. You and I have seen the beginning of it, but I don't believe
that either of us have any notion at all of where it is going to end.
But there is one thing that we can be sure of, that no consideration
of game or Indian or other natural thing is going to be allowed to
interfere with the material growth of the country. We people who know
how things used to be, and who like them as they were, may grumble and
think the change is for the worse; but nobody will pay any attention to
our grumbling and the changes will go on."
At the Cascades they changed to a train which took them seven miles
around the rapids, and, then boarding another steamer, proceeded,
until, just at dusk, they reached the Dalles.
"Do you know, Jack," said Mr. Sturgis, when their journey was just
about over, "that this country that we have been passing through is
historic ground?"
"No," said Jack, "I didn't know that."
"Well," said Mr. Sturgis, "you have heard of the old fur trade, haven't
you, and Astoria, and how John Jacob Astor sent people out to found a
trading station at the mouth of the Columbia River?"
"No," said Jack, "I don't believe I have."
"I have, though," said Hugh; "and I have known two or three men in my
time that worked in that outfit. One man especially who went across the
country with a man named Hunt."
"Yes," said Mr. Sturgis, "that's it. Mr. Astor sent ships around
the Horn with supplies to found this station, and he also sent an
expedition across the country. The cross country party had trouble with
the Indians and starved, and generally had a hard time, and, after the
post was established, while they got lots of furs they had considerable
trouble with the Indians all the time. The British claimed the country,
and the Hudson's Bay people said that Astoria was in their territory.
Then came the war of 1812, and the fort at Astoria was surrendered to
the Hudson's Bay people; and that was the end of that trading post, so
far as the Americans were concerned. But all up and down this river
that we have been travelling up, the Northwesters and the Hudson's
Bay men used to go backward and forward portaging around these rapids
that we have just been over, and working as hard as the old fur traders
always worked. The story of these travels has been written by a good
many of the people who took part in them, and some day it will be worth
your while to hunt up these old books and read that story. It is a
fascinating one."
"Yes," said Hugh, "it's sure an interesting story; though I have never
seen the books, I have heard a good deal of it told. It used to be
talked about a whole lot in early days."
"Well," said Mr. Sturgis, "a lot of those old Astorians, as Astor's
employees at Astoria were called, wrote books giving their experiences,
and it would be well worth your while to read them. I remember the
names of some of them--Alexander Ross, Ross Cox, Franchere--and besides
them some of the Hudson's Bay people, into whose hands the place passed
later, wrote exceptionally interesting accounts of life at the fort,
of their journeys up and down the river, and of their travels over the
mountains.
"Sometime, when we get back, Jack, ask me about these books and I will
make a list of them for you. Most of them are out of print now, and
can only be had at the libraries; but they are books that will repay
reading, and the same thing can be said of a great number of volumes
dealing with the exploration of the western country. It is astonishing
that we Americans know so little about matters which should be of so
much interest to us. Do you realize how little is known about the
work of these early explorers, traders, and trappers? Some few of us
are familiar with it, but most of the people back East know nothing
whatever about these men. Pretty nearly all of this work has been done
within the past seventy-five years, some of it within fifty years, and
none of it goes back a century."
"Here is Hugh," he went on; "he has knowledge of the western country
back almost to the time of that early exploration, and he certainly has
known many men who were of the early generation of the trappers. Isn't
that so, Hugh?"
"Yes," said Hugh, "that's sure enough true, Mr. Sturgis. I knew well
Uncle Jack Robinson, the Bakers, Bridger, Beckwourth, and a whole lot
of men that came into the country in the thirties or before. I have
met old Bill Williams and Perkins, and know old man Culbertson well. I
guess likely he's alive now."
"Why, even you, Jack," said Mr. Sturgis, "know old man Monroe, and he,
according to all accounts, came into the country in 1813."
"That's so, Uncle George," said Jack; "that goes back a long way,
doesn't it?"
"Well now, do you realize that probably before any of us die this whole
western country will be crowded full of people; that there will be
railroads running in all directions, and that the centre of population
of the country will be probably moved from Pittsburg, where it is now,
to somewhere in the Mississippi valley, and perhaps not far from the
big river itself?" said Mr. Sturgis.
"I haven't been out here so many years," he continued, "but I have seen
changes take place in this country that have astonished me, and I can
see that these changes are going to keep taking place, and that almost
before we know it sections of country through which now we can travel
for weeks at a time without seeing any people will be full of ranches
and farms and towns. We think of the United States as being a big
country now, but I believe it hasn't made a beginning yet."
"Well, Mr. Sturgis," said Hugh, "I guess likely what you say is right.
But what's going to happen to all the old things that used to be in the
country? What's going to happen to the game, to the buffalo, to the
Indians?"
"Why," said Mr. Sturgis, "the game, and buffalo, and Indians are
natural things, and they cannot stand up in the face of civilized
things. The game will be killed off except in little spots like
Yellowstone Park; the Indians will be crowded onto their reservations
and kept there, and will either be turned into farmers or cow men, or
else will starve to death. The people of this country are going to
see, I believe, that all this waste region, for that is what they call
it, shall be made to produce something. Cattle will take the place
of buffalo, sheep will take the place of deer and antelope. After a
while farmers will come in, and then the big cattle and sheep men will
be crowded out in turn. The farmers will raise crops from the ground
instead of sheep and cattle. People will have farms and a few head
of cattle, but the days of the 'cattle kings' will pass away. It's a
process of evolution, my boy," he said to Jack, "and you and I will see
it work itself out."