THE HOMEWARD ROAD
At the Dalles the travellers had changed from steamer to train, and,
journeying all night on the cars, reached Walla Walla early next
morning. Here they found a beautiful town of about five thousand
inhabitants, situated in a section possessing a fertile soil and a
delightful climate. Gardens were growing and fruit ripening, and all
things were bright and green. Twelve miles from Walla Walla was the
almost deserted town of Wallula. Here a branch line of the Northern
Pacific Railroad took the party on to South Ainsworth on Snake River.
Nothing could have presented a greater contrast than the two towns
which were seen on the same day, Walla Walla and Ainsworth. The first
was from every point of view attractive, the second a sand waste on
the banks of the Snake River, a hopeless straggling little town of a
dozen or twenty houses set down in the midst of a dreary desert of sage
brush, utterly monotonous and uninteresting. Here the travellers were
obliged to pass one day, and all through that day and all through the
night the wind blew with steady, persistent force, carrying with it the
sands of the plain, which it piled up here and there in great dunes and
then lifted again and carried on to some other point. The sandhills
were constantly shifting and being tossed backward and forward, as
restless and inconstant as the waves of the ocean. Often the sand is
piled high upon the sparse vegetation, and again it is carried away so
that the roots of that vegetation are uncovered.
After one day here they boarded a train and left for Spokane Falls,
which was just about at the end of the track which was being built
eastward. As they jogged slowly along in the caboose of the freight
train, which moved unsteadily over the newly laid track, they had an
opportunity to see much of the country. At first there was little to
it that was attractive, but after leaving Snake River the quality of
the land seemed to improve, and Hugh frequently called attention to the
good grass, and declared that he believed that some day this country
would be full of cattle.
Jack, who had been thinking of what his uncle had said two or three
days before, said to Mr. Sturgis: "You don't think, Uncle George, that
any part of this country like Ainsworth will ever be good for anything,
do you?"
"Yes, my boy, I do," said Mr. Sturgis; "of course we cannot see now how
this country will ever be made use of, but fifty years ago who would
have thought that the Salt Lake Valley was capable of cultivation, or
thirty or forty years ago that Walla Walla would ever be a town. I
believe that this country will fill up with cattle and for a little
time will be a grazing country, and then I think that it will come to
be a farming country. The winters here are mild, the soil is good, and
there is plenty of water. There are going to be people here, and towns,
but I don't know when."
A little distance after leaving a station called Summit they passed Big
Lake, and here entered a territory where there were already farms. They
could see frequently houses with good barns, and the fields were dotted
with haystacks. There were also herds of cattle and horses, all fat and
in good condition.
It was nearly night when they reached Spokane. As court was in session
the town was thronged with people, and they had great difficulty in
securing rooms. At last, however, a loft was found where they spread
their blankets and passed a good night. Before dark, however, they took
time to walk along the Spokane River to see the Falls, a series of
beautiful cascades which were well worth looking at.
Mr. Sturgis had provided himself with letters from the officials of
the Northern Pacific Railroad to the employees along the road, and
the next morning they left for Lake Pend d'Oreille. Thirty-five miles
travelling took them to Westwood, the end of the track, and there they
took a stage for the Lake. The three were the only passengers, and the
ride was long and dusty, yet possessed many features of interest. The
road ran for the most part along the railroad's right of way, and they
could see all the various operations of the building of this great
transatlantic highway. After they had passed the end of the track they
came to one of the enormous railroad camps which always precede the
iron of a new road. Here was a real canvas city, and its inhabitants
were white men, Chinese, horses, mules, and dogs. Everything was on
a large scale. The eating tents covered an area equal to that of a
good-sized town. There were hundreds of sleeping-tents. There were
great forges at which many blacksmiths worked, and huge water troughs
at which twenty-five horses could drink at a time. The bread-pan in
the cook tent was large enough to serve a full-grown man as a bath
tub. Hugh and Jack could only stare and wonder and point out to each
other one astonishing thing after another; and even Mr. Sturgis, whose
experience had been much wider than that of either of his companions,
was much impressed.
As the stage approached the lake, the road became constantly rougher.
They passed from the railroad camp and saw first the bridge workers,
next the graders, and then the "right of way" men, whose business it
was to chop their way through the forest and clear off all the timber
along the line of the track for a width of fifty feet. After the timber
was felled it was left to dry and was then set on fire.
"That's bad business," said Mr. Sturgis; "these men think of nothing
but the convenience of the moment. All these fires that they are
kindling and that they are leaving to burn here may set the hills on
fire, and large tracts of country may be burned and much valuable
standing timber destroyed."
"Yes," said Hugh, "these men think of nothing but the quickest way of
getting rid of anything that they don't use."
"It's the fault of the contractors," said Mr. Sturgis, "and some means
should be found to stop such a destruction of timber."
A little later, as the stage approached the lake, they could see the
woods on fire everywhere. The stage-driver told them that this had gone
on for some time, and that on two or three occasions recently the fires
had been so extensive that the stage had been unable to get through to
the lake, and had been forced to turn around and return.
On this day the driver went carefully and succeeded in picking out
places where he could get through, though more than once the stage
drove between piles of blazing logs which made it uncomfortably warm
for the passengers. The timber was largely pine and hackmatack, but
there was also some white and some yellow birch.
Not long after the fire had been left behind they came into an open
country, from which, ahead of them, they could see a large sheet of
water; and presently from a hill they looked down upon beautiful Lake
Pend d'Oreille, surrounded on all sides by towering, timbered hills.
At the end of the stage line there was an engineer's camp; and here, to
Mr. Sturgis' great surprise, he met among the engineers two friends
whom he had not seen for years and whom he little expected to meet in
this far off spot. The surprise was a mutually delightful one. His
friends seized him, and Jack, and Hugh, and insisted on their sharing
the hospitality of their camp, and a very delightful evening was spent
there.
Some distance down Pend d'Oreille River, or as it is often called,
Clark's Fork of the Columbia, and so some miles from the engineer's
camp, was a place known as Siniaqueateen, which in the Flathead
language means "the place where we cross." Here was the supply depot
for the engineer department of the Northern Pacific railroad, and here
were the headquarters of Mr. Galbraith, the commissary, who had charge
of the advance transportation of the railroad. To him Mr. Sturgis had a
letter from the railroad officials; and to Siniaqueateen the travellers
went the next morning. It was a small settlement, consisting of a
trader's store and house, and two or three other stores and houses,
and the office buildings belonging to the railroad. Here is the ford
across the river which gives the place its name; and here is where the
trail between the Flathead Lake and the Kootenay District of British
Columbia, distant over two hundred miles, crosses the stream. From time
immemorial this has been a crossing place for the Indians, travelling
north and south through the country. Now on the bank of the river there
was a camp of Kutenai Indians.
About the ferry were lounging many Indians, who, to Jack's eye seemed
quite different from the Coast Indians, and much more like the people
of the plains to whom he was accustomed. He asked Mr. Galbraith about
these people, and Mr. Galbraith, who knew a number of the individuals
of the two tribes, told him something about them.
"These Flatheads that you see here belong in the country as do also
some Kutenais, but not those that have just come in, and are in camp
here. They are from the north and are bringing down their furs to
trade."
"Why do they call them Flatheads, Mr. Galbraith?" asked Jack. "They
don't seem to have their heads flattened as the Coast Indians have. The
heads of these people are shaped like those of any one."
"Well," said Mr. Galbraith, "I don't know why they are called
Flatheads, but that is the name for them in this country. They do not
call themselves by that name. They call themselves Kallispelms. They
are pretty good Indians, hunt all through this region, farm a little,
and have plenty of horses. In July or August they always come down
to the lake shore, because then, when the water is low, and the big
meadows on the edge of the lake are exposed, the camas grows up, and
they dig the roots which form a considerable portion of their vegetable
food."
"I have heard of camas," said Jack, "but I don't think I ever saw it
grow to know it. What is it like?"
"Why," said Mr. Galbraith, "I don't know what the books call it; but
it is a root that grows in damp places, has two long leaves like a
lily, and a slender stalk that bears a blue flower. The root is shaped
somewhat like an onion or a tulip. The women gather them in great
quantities. Then, after they are gathered, they are cooked and then
dried for use in the winter. After they have been dried the roots are
about as big as the end of your finger; and just after cooking they are
sweet, something like a chestnut. The Indians make a very good bread by
squeezing a lot of the newly cooked bulbs together."
"How do they cook them?" asked Jack.
"Oh, in the usual way," said Galbraith. "They dig a big hole in the
ground; build a fire in it in which they heat stones and then spread
grass over the hot stones. They then pile in a great quantity of the
roots, covering them with grass, and next with hot stones. Then the
whole thing is covered with earth, and the pit is left alone for three
or four days. The women know when to open it, and when they do so and
take off the stones and the grass the heat of the stones has cooked the
roots which have turned dark brown in color and are ready to use. It's
fun to see the children cluster around when the pit is opened, and to
see them struggle to get the grass which has covered the roots. This
grass is covered with a sweet syrup and the children delight to suck
it. I suppose there are a lot of roots and berries which the Indians
know of and use, of which we know nothing at all."
"Yes," said Jack, "I know that is so in my country. There is hardly any
time in the summer but there is some vegetable food ripening that the
Indians know of and use."
"There's another root called kaus, that the Kutenais know of," said Mr.
Galbraith. "They dry and pound up these roots and then mix them with
water and bake them in cakes, and they make a good bread. These roots
are sweet and aromatic. Of berries, the sarvis berry is perhaps the
most important, and it grows abundantly all through the mountains, but
there are a number of other berries, fruits, and roots."
That night Mr. Sturgis had a talk with Mr. Galbraith, who said that he
could very easily take them across the lake in the company's sailboat,
and then would give them saddle and pack horses to take them up the
Pend d'Oreille River, to the Jocko or any other point that they might
wish to go to. At the Jocko, they could hire some Indian or half-breed
to drive them on to Deer Lodge, and from Deer Lodge they could take
the stage to Missoula or Silver Bow, which he understood was then the
end of the track of the narrow-gauge road running up from the South.
To all hands this seemed the best way to get home; and as they were
now on the very borders of Montana it seemed that they had but a short
distance to go before they would once more be in their own country.
The next morning early, accompanied by Mr. Galbraith and with a crew of
three or four voyageurs, they started out from Siniaqueateen for the
Lake. The river gradually became more and more wide and the scenery was
very beautiful. The stream valley was broad, and smooth grassy meadows
dotted here and there with willows and other small trees sloped gently
up to the higher land from the water's edge.
Before they had reached the lake, a number of Indians were seen
paddling close along the shore in their canoes, which were of a
type entirely new to Mr. Sturgis as well as to Jack and Hugh. These
structures were sharply pointed at both ends, and as much as anything
resembling cylinders of bark.
"These canoes are different from anything I ever saw before," said
Hugh. "I know the birch canoes of the North, and I have just come back
from a voyage in the wooden canoes of British Columbia, but I never saw
anything like this. What are they made of, and how are they made?"
"They are made of pine bark," said Mr. Galbraith, "and they are queer
canoes. I never saw them anywhere except in the country west of the
Rocky Mountains and about two or three hundred miles north and south.
The Indians take the bark from the white pine in very large sheets and
make rolls of it, which they stow away dry until they need it. Then
they soak the bark in water until it becomes soft and pliable and easy
to handle. Then they make a frame of small cedar poles lashed together
with strips of cedar bark, and this frame is then covered with sheets
of this pine bark, which are sewed together with tamarack roots, and
patched with resin from the fir tree. The outside of the bark is on
the inside of the canoe, and the Indians paddle on both sides. These
canoes are mighty cranky, and upset very easily. Of course sails are
never used in them, but the Indians keep close to the shore, and do not
dare to cross over from point to point."
The next morning there was a good breeze. They started to cross the
Lake and soon after noon reached the Northern Pacific's camp at the
mouth of Clark's Fork. The company's surveyors were laying out the line
up this river; and their supplies and mail were ferried across the lake
and carried east along the line of the road which led up toward the
Coeur d'Alene Mountains. Here Mr. Galbraith, with great energy got
together an outfit of pack and saddle animals, and the next morning a
little train of seven animals filed out of the camp and took the trail
for Missoula.
The journey up Clark's Fork was a delightful one and took about seven
days. The party travelled fast, stopping neither to hunt nor fish. Deer
and bear signs were plenty, and in a few cases white-tailed deer were
seen, but none were killed. The daylight hours were spent in riding
through the beautiful river valley and among the great cinnamon-colored
trunks of giant pines that formed the chief timber of the country, and
at night the party was always ready for supper and bed.
Hugh and Mr. Sturgis were enthusiastic about the prospects of this
region, where there was much fine land and unlimited grazing.
At the Jocko, the wagon road began; and here the pack train was
dismissed and the travellers' guns and blankets were transferred to a
wagon driven by one of the large tribe of McDonalds, descendants of
some old Hudson's Bay trader who had married a Flathead woman. They
were then taken to Missoula, and from there to Deer Lodge, _Le logis de
chevreuils_, as their driver called it.
From Deer Lodge it was a matter of a little staging to Melrose,
which was then the terminus of the Utah and Northern railroad. Here
Mr. Sturgis, Jack, and Hugh found themselves back again in bustling,
hurrying America, and oppressed by the feeling that they must at once
get back to their work. They were soon once more on the cars, flying at
high speed toward their destinations.
Three days later on the Union Pacific railroad Mr. Sturgis and Hugh
shook hands with Jack and left him alone, and three days later he was
once more in New York.
* * * * * *
Transcriber's note:
Every effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully as
possible. Some minor corrections of punctuation have been made.
A number of minor spelling errors have been corrected without note.