CHAPTER I
VICTORIA, V. I.
"Say, Hugh, what is that Indian doing in that canoe? I thought at firstthat he was paddling, but he doesn't seem to move, and that doesn'tlook like a paddle that he has in his hand."
"To tell you the truth, son, I don't know what he is doing. Thisbusiness here on the salt water puzzles me, and everything is strangeand queer. This ain't like the prairie, nor these ain't like anymountains that I've ever seen. I am beginning at the bottom and havegot to learn everything. But about that Indian in the canoe, you cansee that the boat doesn't move; and you can see, too, if you looksharp, that he's anchored. Don't you see that taut line reaching downinto the water?"
"That's so," said Jack; "he surely is anchored, but he works his armsjust as if he were paddling. I am going to ask this man over here."
Jack walked over to a sailor who stood leaning against the rail of thedeck on which they were sitting, and who was looking over the water,and said to him: "Will you tell me, sir, what that Indian is doing inthe canoe over there?"
The man turned his head and looked in the direction in which Jackwas pointing, and said: "Yes, I can tell you what he is doing; he isfishing. Don't you see that every stroke he makes he is bringing upsome herrings?"
"No, I don't see it, and I will be much obliged to you if you willdescribe to me how he is fishing."
"Of course I will," said the man. "You see his canoe is anchored therein that deep water, just this side of that point around which the tideruns strong. At this season of the year the herrings gather in bigschools in that eddy there. Of course we don't know just how they lie,but they must be mighty thick together. That thing the Indian has inhis hand is a pole about a dozen feet long, flattened on the sides,and maybe a couple of inches across in its widest part. The flatteningmakes the pole sort of oval shaped, if you should saw through it; andeach of the narrow edges of the pole is studded with a row of sharpnails, about an inch or two apart. These nails are firmly driven intothe wood and the points that stick out for about an inch are verysharp. The nails run for about one half the length of the pole. TheIndian, sitting in his canoe and holding the upper part of the pole inhis two hands, as you see, just as he would hold a paddle, sweeps theend of it, that has the nails in, through the water, using just thesame motion that he does in paddling. The herrings down there are sothick that every time he passes the pole vertically through the waterit strikes the bodies of three or four of the fish with force enough todrive the nails into them; and as the man continues the stroke they arepushed ahead of the pole. When the stroke is finished and the end ofthe pole brought out of the water, the fish are still sticking on thenails. Then, you will see, if you watch him, he brings the nailed endof the pole in over the canoe, taps the pole on the canoe, and the fishdrop off into the bottom of the boat. Don't you see the white shinyspecks on the pole every time he makes a stroke?"
"Yes," said Jack, "of course I see them, but that is a new way offishing to me, and I never should have guessed what he was trying todo. I should think it would take a long time to get fish enough for amess in that way."
"Don't you believe it," said the sailor; "one of those fellows may geta bushel or two of fish in two or three hours. Just you watch the poleas one brings it up and see how many fish he gets to a stroke, and thenfigure how many strokes he makes to a minute."
Jack watched for a few minutes and saw that at every sweep of the poletwo or half a dozen fish were brought up and knocked loose so as tofall into the canoe, and he made up his mind that after all this was aquick and easy way of fishing.
In the meantime Hugh had strolled up and was listening to their talk,but without making any comment.
Presently Jack said to the sailor: "We are not near enough to make avery good guess at the size of those fish; how big are they?"
"Oh," said the sailor, "they are not very big, maybe not more than fouror six inches long, but there are lots of them, as you can see. Theycatch oolichans in that way too, when they are here, but they have gonenow. We only have them during the month of May, but then they gather incertain places and there are worlds of them. The Indians catch them,and the white folks catch them; in fact, for a little while prettynearly everybody lives on oolichans. They are mighty good eating, Ican tell you, and besides those eaten fresh, lots of them are smokedand salted. The Indians don't save many of them. What they don't eatfresh they use to make oil with, for the oolichan is an awful fat fishand you can get lots of oil out of them. They are so fat, that afterthey have been dried you can light them at one end and they will burnjust like a candle. I expect that is the reason that sometimes they arecalled candle-fish."
"Say, friend," said Hugh, "you ain't joking, are you?"
"No," said the man, "I ain't joking; that's just the way it is, like Itell you."
"Well, no offence," said Hugh. "Where I come from, in the mountainsand in the cattle country, sometimes the boys, when a stranger comesaround, sort of josh him in a good-natured way, and tell tall storiesjust to see how much he will believe. I didn't know that maybe you hadsuch a custom as that out here."
"No, sir," said the sailor, "we don't do anything like that here. Wesuppose that people ask us questions about the country because theywant to know how things really are, and we tell them just what thefacts are."
"Well," said Hugh, "it seems to me, from what I have seen, that thefacts are strange enough here, and it wouldn't be necessary for you tostretch them a mite to astonish folks."
Soon after this Hugh and Jack went back to the place where they hadbeen sitting, in the shelter of the deck cabin, and sat there lookingover the beautiful view that was stretched out before them. Neithersaid very much. Both were impressed by the beauty of the scene andthe novelty of their surroundings; for neither of them had ever seenanything like it before.
"I tell you, son," said Hugh, "this here is a wonderful country tome, and I never saw anything to match it. You see it's the first timethat I ever got down to the edge of the salt water. I don't know whatto make of it all. Everything is different; the mountains and timber,the people, the animals, and the birds. And as for fish--why! I neversupposed there was any place in the world where fish were as plenty asthey are here."
"Yes," said Jack, "it's surely a wonderful country. There is somethingnew to look at every minute; and it's all just as different as can befrom anything I ever saw before. I was talking to one of the passengershere a little while ago and he told me that these Indians here livealmost altogether on fish. They dig clams and catch mussels and catchthe salmon and the herrings and those little fish this sailor wastalking about; and they kill seals and porpoises and even whales. It'sall mighty strange, but doesn't it show just how people fit themselvesto the conditions that surround them? Now, suppose you take one of theBlackfeet, turn him loose on his horse at the edge of the water, andhow do you think he would go to work to get his next meal? Why, hewould starve to death."
"He surely would," said Hugh. "Don't you know, that the things theseIndians here eat would be sort of poison to the Blackfeet? It isagainst their medicine to eat fish or most anything that lives in thewater. They think those things are not fit to eat, and many of themwould starve before they would even touch them."
The vessel ploughed its way through the strait with the land risinghigh on the right and lower on the left-hand side. Both coasts wererock-bound, and the heavy swell dashed against the shore great waves,whose foam flew high into the air. Away to the south rose high roughmountains, their summits white with snow. To the north the land rosegently, and green fields, dotted here and there with white houses,stretched away for miles. Beyond were hills, forest-clad.
The travellers were busy looking in all directions at the beautifulprospect spread before them. Suddenly, not far from the ship, a greathead rose above the water, remaining there for a moment looking atthe boat. Jack saw it and called out to his companion: "O Hugh! thatmust be a sea-lion or a fur seal! It's bigger than the
seals that Ihave seen on the coast of Maine." After a moment the head disappearedbeneath the water. But in a few moments several other heads were seen;and these seals, less timid than the first, swam along not far fromthe boat, showing their great bodies partly out of the water, andsometimes, in chasing one another, jumping high into the air. Furtheralong, the boat startled from the surface of the water a group of blackbirds. Less in size than ducks, they flew swiftly along, close to thewater's surface. Jack could see that on the shoulders of each bird wasa round spot of white, while the legs were coral-red.
"There is a new bird to me, Hugh, and I bet it is to you, too. Thatmust be one of the birds they call guillemots. They live up in theNorth and breed on the ledges of the rock. I have read about themoften."
"Well," said Hugh, "there's surely plenty to see here; and I wouldn'tbe surprised if you and I travelled around all the time with our mouthsopen, just because we are too surprised to remember to shut them."
All this time the boat was moving swiftly along. Toward afternoon sherounded a sharp point of rocks; and, proceeding up a narrow channel,the buildings of the town of Victoria were soon seen in the distance.Hugh said:
"That must be our landing place, son. I'll be glad to get ashore andstretch my legs. I take it, this here land that we are coming to is anisland, and very likely there won't be a horse in the place. We'll haveto do all of our travelling afoot, or in one of these cranky canoes,and I haven't much of a notion of getting into one of them. I'll be agood deal like you were the first time you got on a horse--afraid I'llfall off; and yet I don't know as they'll be any harder to ride in thanthe birch canoes I used to travel in up in the North."
Victoria, where our travellers landed that afternoon, was a charming,quiet town of six or seven thousand inhabitants, situated on theextreme southeastern point of Vancouver Island. For many years afterits settlement it had been nothing more than the Hudson's Bay fort andtrading post, with a few dwellings occupied by those employed there.But the discovery of gold in small quantities on the Frazer River in1857, and later on at the placer mines on the Quesnelle and at Caribou,made a great change in the prospects of the place. Word of the newdiggings travelled fast and soon reached California, causing a world ofexcitement among the mining population of that State, then ripe for afresh move. A rush took place, and all those who travelled toward thenew mines in British Columbia passed by the drowsy old Hudson's Bayfort, where hitherto the only event of the year had been the arrival ofthe ship from England with the mail. Now the fort was startled by thecoming of twenty thousand miners, who pitched their tents about it andfounded Victoria. Buildings sprang up and trade was attracted. Everyone going to the mines or coming from them passed through the townand paid its tribute, and high hopes were entertained of its futureimportance. People who lived there began to call it "the emporium ofcommerce," "the metropolis of the northwest coast of America." But,unfortunately for Victoria, the mines, which caused this excitementsoon ceased to pay; and the town's commerce fell off. It did not fulfilthe promises of its early youth, and its growth has since been slow.Now, however, there was a prospect of speedy communication with therest of the world; for during the summer when our travellers reachedthere, the Canadian Pacific Railroad was being built and the loyalinhabitants of Victoria were again anticipating that the place wouldbecome a great city--"a second San Francisco." There was reason fortheir hopes. While the railroad could not directly reach Victoria, itsterminus on the mainland would be within easy reach of the Island City,and would give Vancouver Island a market for its products. Its tradeat that time was little or nothing, for the goods sent to the UnitedStates had to pay a heavy duty, which left little margin for profit.
Hugh and Jack spent several days at Victoria. The country waspicturesque and attractive, and the roads good. They took long walksinto the country to the Gorge and to Cedar Hill, from which a beautifulview of the city could be obtained. The panorama included also a viewof the Straits of Fuca, the Gulf of Georgia with its hundreds ofislands, and the mainland, rough with mountain peaks, among which,rising above all, stood Mt. Baker, calm and white, a snow-clad monarch.While they remained in the town they lived literally on the fat ofthe land. Victoria boasted one of the best hotels in the world; nota pretentious structure, but one where everything that was good toeat, in abundance, well cooked and well served, was furnished. Therewere fish of many sorts,--salmon and sea bass, herring and oolichans,oysters and clams, crabs, game, delicious vegetables, and abundance offruit.
Mr. Sturgis had given to Hugh a letter to an acquaintance of his inVictoria, and one day Hugh and Jack called on Mr. MacTavish. He wasan old Hudson Bay man, who, after retiring from the service of theCompany had come to Victoria to live. He had a delightful family, and acharming house, full of a multitude of interesting curiosities, pickedup during his long service in the North. Of these, one of the mostinteresting was a complete set of dinner dishes, carved out of blackslate by the Haida Indians of the North. While the figures exhibited onthese were conventional in form and of Indian type, the carving was soremarkably good that it was hard for Hugh and Jack to believe that thework was Indian. Neither had ever seen anything done by Indians moreartistic than the ordinary painted skins of the plains' Tribes; andwhen they saw such delicate, beautifully carved work, often inlaid withthe white teeth or fragments of bones of animals, it was hard for themto understand how it all could have been done by native artists.
Mr. MacTavish told them much about the life of the island,--the fishingand hunting. He said that at that very time, during the month of July,the salt waters of the Straits and of the Gulf of Georgia abounded withsalmon, which were readily taken by trolling; and when thus taken, on alight rod, furnished fine sport. Many of the brooks of the island, too,afforded excellent trout fishing.
About Victoria there were found, he said, two species of grouse,--theruffed grouse and the blue grouse. The California quail had beenintroduced and seemed to be increasing, but sportsmen did not care muchfor it, because it did not lie well to a dog, but ran when alarmed andtook to the thickest brush, where it was impossible to shoot it. In theautumn ducks and geese occurred in great numbers; and, on the whole,shooting was good. Their host also told them there was a considerablevariety of big game. Deer were abundant within a few miles of Victoria;and it was not uncommon for people, starting out in the evening, todrive into the country and return the next night with several. Therewere some places where still-hunting could be successfully followed;but in most cases it was necessary to use hounds to drive the deer tothe water, for the timber was so thick, and the underbrush and ferns sodense and tangled, that it was impossible to travel through the forestswithout making a great deal of noise.
Their entertainer astonished Hugh and Jack by telling them that furthernorth on the island, in the neighborhood of Comox, elk were to befound. They were not abundant, he said, and were hard to approach onaccount of the character of the forest; but they were certainly there.Bears and panthers were everywhere quite abundant. Sooke, a villageabout twenty miles from Victoria, was a great place for bears. Many ofthose killed were black or cinnamon; but it was reported that therewere also grizzlies at Sooke. The panthers were little hunted, exceptin places where farmers had flocks or herds to protect. They livedprincipally on the deer, which were very abundant. There were a fewwolves, but except in winter they were seldom seen.
Mr. MacTavish had a good knowledge of natural history; and he had muchto say to Jack, who was interested in the subject, about the curiousforms of life found in the surrounding waters. When he heard thatJack and Hugh had come up there to spend a month travelling among theislands, he told them that the best thing that they could do would beto go over to the mainland, and there make the acquaintance of JackFannin, a cobbler, living on Burrard Inlet, as he knew more about thebirds and mammals of the Province than any other man.
"Fannin is the man for you," said Mr. MacTavish, "and you should seehim before you make up your minds to do anything. He will give you thebest advice possible; and
perhaps you can even get him to go with you.That would be a great thing; it would add enormously to your pleasure,and would save you many delays. And as he has mined, hunted, canoed,and chopped logs over much of the coast, he knows it as well as anyone."
Our friends spent a long, delightful afternoon with Mr. MacTavish,and when they spoke of returning to their hotel he would not let themgo, but kept them with him for the evening meal. They walked backthrough the clear, cool moonlight to Victoria, and before they hadreached there had agreed that they would go by the first steamer to NewWestminster to hunt up Mr. Fannin.
The next day when they told Mr. MacTavish of their decision, hecongratulated them on their good judgment and gave them a letter to afriend in New Westminster, who would take care of them and see thatthey lost no time in finding the man they wanted.
The hospitality and kindness shown the two Americans by Mr. MacTavishwas typical of the treatment they received everywhere in BritishColumbia. People there, they found, had time to enjoy life. They didnot rush about, after the headlong American fashion, but took thingsquietly and easily. The stores were opened about nine or ten in themorning, and at twelve they were closed. The shop-keepers went home tolunch, appearing again and reopening their places about two o'clock;keeping them open until four or five in the afternoon. Then their day'swork was over and they closed up for the night.