The Young Alaskans in the Rockies by Emerson Hough (100 books to read in a lifetime .TXT) 📕

launched on the little river which came down from Cranberry Lake. The boys, rifles in hand, and light packs on their shoulders, trudged along on foot, cutting off bends and meeting the boat every once in a while. They had an early start after all, and, the wagon doubling back after depositing its load late in the afternoon to bring on the second boat, they all made camp on the summit not far from the lake that evening.

XIX ON THE CANOE RIVER

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John,” said Uncle Dick, before they broke camp the following morning, “you’ll have some work to do now with your map. This pass is not as high as the Yellowhead Pass, but in a way it’s almost as interesting because it is the divide between the Fraser and the Columbia valleys; so you must get it on the map.

“Yonder is the river which old Simon Fraser thought was the Columbia, and the river which first took Sir Alexander Mackenzie to the Pacific. South of us runs the great Columbia, bending up as far as it can to reach this very spot. South to the Columbia run these two rivers, the Canoe and the Wood. Over yonder is the Albreda Pass, by which you reach the Thompson—glaciers enough there to suit any one. And over in that way, too, rises the Canoe River, which runs conveniently right toward us here, within a mile of our lake, inviting us to take its pathway to the Columbia.

“Over that way on the left, as you know, lie the Rockies, and outside of two or three passes between the Kicking Horse Pass and the Yellowhead Pass no one really knows much about them. You see, we’ve quite a little world of our own in here. The white men are just beginning to come into this valley.”

“Where are we going to hunt the grizzlies, Leo?” inquired Rob, after a time, as they busied themselves making ready for the portage with the canoe.

Leo rose and pointed his hand first south, and then to the west and south.

“Little creek come in from high mountain,” said he. “All valleys deep, plenty slides.”

“Slides? What does he mean, Uncle Dick?” inquired John.

“Well, I’ll tell you. Leo hunts bear here in about the only practical way, which is to say, on the slides which the avalanches have torn down the sides of the mountains. You see, all these mountainsides are covered with enormous forest growth, so dense that you could not find anything in them, for game will hear or see you before you come up with it. These forests high up on the mountains make the real home of the grizzly. In the spring, however, the first thing a grizzly does is to hunt out some open country where he can find grass, or roots, or maybe mice or gophers—almost anything to eat. Besides, he likes to look around over the country, just like a white goat, apparently. So he will pick out a sort of feeding-ground or loafing-ground right in one of these slides—a place where the snow-slips have carried away the trees and rocks perhaps many years earlier and repeated it from year to year.

“On these slides you will find grass and little bushes. As this is the place where the bears are most apt to be, and as you could not see them anyhow if they were anywhere else, that is where the hunters look for them. Late in the afternoon is the best time to find a grizzly on a slide. You see, his fur is very hot for him, and he doesn’t like the open sun, and stays in until the cooler hours of the day. Evidently Leo has found some creeks down below in the Canoe Valley where the hunters have not yet got in, and that is why he made such a big hunt last spring. Indeed, there are a number of creeks which come into the Columbia from the west where almost no hunting has ever been done, and where, very likely, one could make a good bear-hunt any time this month.”

The boys all agreed that the prospects of getting a grizzly apiece seemed very good indeed, and so set to work with much enthusiasm in the task of re-embarking, on the rapid waters of the Canoe River, here a small and raging stream, but with water sufficient to carry down the two bateaux. Their man with the wagon, without saying good-by, turned and went back to his village on the banks of the Fraser. Thus in the course of a day, the young travelers found themselves in an entirely different country, bound upon a different route, and with a wholly different means of transport. The keen delight of this exciting form of travel took hold upon them, and Uncle Dick and Moise, who handled the rear boat, in which all the boys were passengers, had all they could do to keep them still and to restrain their wish to help do some of the paddling.

Leo and his cousin George, as has been stated, took the lead in the boat which the party christened the Lizzie W., in honor of Jesse’s mother. The rear boat they called the Bronco, because of her antics in some of the fast rapids which from time to time they encountered.

For a time they made none too rapid progress on their stream, which, though deep enough, was more or less clogged with sweepers and driftwood in some of the bends. Uncle Dick gave Leo orders not to go more than one bend ahead, so that in case of accident the boats would be in touch with each other. Thus very often the rear boat ran up on the forward one, lying inshore, and held ready to line down some bad chute of the stream.

In this work all bore a hand. The lines to be used were made of rawhide, which would have been slippery except for the large knots tied every foot or so to give a good handhold. Of course, in all this, as much in as out of the water, pretty much every one in the party got soaked to the skin, but this was accepted as part of the day’s work, and they all went steadily on down the stream, putting mile after mile behind them, and opening up at every bend additional vistas of splendid mountain prospects.

At noon they paused to boil the tea-kettle, but made only a short stop. So steady had been their journey that when they pitched camp for the night on a little beach they estimated that their progress had been more than that of a pack-train in a good day’s travel. That night they had for supper some fresh grouse, or “fool-hens,” which fell to Jesse’s rifle out of a covey which perched in the bushes not far from their camp-site. They passed a very jovial night in this camp, well content alike with their advance and with the prospects which now they felt lay before them.

XX CARIBOU IN CAMP

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This weather,” said Uncle Dick, walking toward an open place in the trees and looking up at the bright sky above, “is entirely too fine to suit me. This morning looks as though we would have a warm day, and that means high water. The rock walls in the cañons below here don’t stretch, and a foot of water on a flat like this may mean twenty feet rise in a cañon. And that is where this little band of travelers will all get out and walk.”

Leo, who had been examining his boat, which he had drawn up on the beach to dry overnight, now asked a little time to calk a leak which he had discovered. Meantime the boys concluded it might be a good plan to walk out a little way into an open place and try the sights of their rifles, which they knew would need to be exactly right if they were to engage in such dangerous sport as that of hunting the grizzly bear.

“S’pose you see some small little bear,” said Moise, as they started out, “you shoot ’um. Shoot ’um caribou too, s’pose you see one—law says traveler can kil meat.”

“Well, we’re not apt to see one,” said John, “for we’d scare them when we began to shoot our rifles.”

They had advanced only a few hundred yards from the camp when they found an open place in front of the trees which offered a good opportunity for a rifle-range of two hundred yards.

“I’m not going to fool with my sights,” said Jesse, “because my gun shot all right last night on the grouse. You fellows go ahead.”

Rob and John proceeded with the work of targeting their rifles, firing perhaps a dozen shots apiece in all before they turned to walk back to the camp. As they did so Rob, happening to look back of them, suddenly halted them with a low word. “What’s that?” said he.

An animal large as a two-year-old heifer and wearing short stubs of horns was trotting toward them steadily, as though bound to come directly up to them. So far from being alarmed by the firing, it seemed to have been attracted by it, and really it was only curiosity which brought it up thus to its most dangerous enemy. It had never heard a rifle or seen a human being before in all its life.

“Caribou!” said Rob in a low tone of voice. Even as he spoke John’s rifle rang out, and the other two followed promptly. The stupid beast, now within sixty yards of them, fell dead in less time than it would take to tell of the incident. A moment later the boys stood at its side, excitedly talking together.

“Go back to camp, Jesse,” said Rob, at length, “and tell Moise to come out. John and I will stay and begin to skin out the meat.”

Moise, when he came out from camp, was very much pleased with the results of this impromptu hunt. “Plenty fat meat now,” said he. “That’s nice young caribou, heem.” He fell rapidly to work in his experienced fashion, and in a short time he and George had packed the meat down to the camp and loaded it in the two boats, both of which were now ready for the departure.

“That’s the most obliging caribou I ever heard of,” said Rob, “to walk right into our camp that way. I’ve read about buffalo-hunters in the old times running a buffalo almost into camp before they killed it, to save trouble in packing the meat. But they’d have to do pretty well if they beat this caribou business of ours.”

Leo stood looking at the young hunters with considerable surprise, for he had been very skeptical of their ability to kill any game, and extremely distrustful of their having anything to do with grizzly hunting.

“Plenty caribou this valley,” said he; “big black-face caribou. Heem plenty fool, too. Caribou he don’t bite. But s’pose you’ll see grizzlum bear, you better look out—then maybe you get some scares. S’pose you get some scares, you better leave grizzlum alone.”

“Never mind, Leo,” said Uncle Dick, laughing at him, “let’s not worry about that yet a while. First find your grizzly.”

“Find plenty grizzlum to-morrow, one day, two day,” said Leo. “Not far now.”

They determined to make a good long run that day, and indeed the stage of water aided them in that purpose; but Uncle Dick, as leader of the party, found that Leo and George had very definite ideas of their own as to what constituted a day’s work. When noon came—although neither of them had a watch—they