The Young Alaskans in the Rockies Part 27

"And so am I, but I believe that even if you had been left alone you'd have made it out some way. You had a rifle, and, although game is not plentiful in the heavy forest, you very likely would have found a porcupine now and then--that is to say, a porcupine would very likely have found you, for they are very apt to prowl about the camp almost anywhere in this country. You wouldn't even have been obliged to make a noise like a porcupine if you had used anything greasy around your cooking or left any sc.r.a.ps where they could get at them. Or you might even have tried eating a little pine bark, the way the porcupines do.

Again, in almost any clearing this far down to the south you might have run across some of these gophers which you have seen on the gra.s.sy banks lately. Not that I would care to eat gopher myself, for they look like prairie-dog, and I never did like prairie-dog to eat.

Besides, they tell bad stories about these mountain gophers; I've heard that the spotted fever of the mountains, a very deadly disease, is only found in a gopher country; so I'm very glad you did not have to resort to that sort of diet."

"We might get some goats back there in the mountains if we had to,"

said Rob, "but goat hunting is hard work, and I don't suppose a fellow would last long at it on light diet."

"Well, I wish we had one or two of those kids that we left up on the mountain at Yellowhead Lake," said John. "Moise says a goat kid is just as good to eat as any kind of meat. And any kind of meat would be better than bacon rind to chew on."

"Never mind, John," said Rob; "we could go two days without anything to eat if we had to, and in two days, at least, we'll be where you can get as square a meal as you like. Maybe even to-day we'll land where we can get supplies, although Leo doesn't seem to tell us very much about things on ahead."

Leo and his silent but hard-working cousin George now came down to the waterside and signified that it was time to start off, as by this time the sun had cleared the mists from the river. As the light strengthened, they could see that the river had lost something of its deep blue or green color and taken on a tawny hue, which spoke all too plainly of the flood-waters coming down from the snow-fields through the many creeks they had pa.s.sed on both sides of the river.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ON THE COLUMBIA RIVER]

It took but a few moments now for them to embark, and soon they were plying their paddles once more and pa.s.sing swiftly down the great river. Although they knew Leo was not very loquacious, and so not apt to say much of dangers on ahead, the general feeling of all the others was that the worst of their route had been traversed and that now they were in close touch with civilization.

They were moving along steadily in the bright, warm sunlight, and John and Rob were a.s.sisting with paddles on each side of the boat, when all at once they saw the lead-boat leave the center of the channel and shoot to the left toward a high bluff, which, they could see, was surmounted by several buildings.

"What's the matter?" said Jesse. "Rapids on ahead?"

"No," said Uncle d.i.c.k, "not rapids, but houses and barns! This must be the Boyd farm, and, if so, we're very likely done with our boating.

Heave ho, then, my hearties, and let's see how fast we can paddle!"

They pulled up presently at the foot of the bluff, where Leo and George lay waiting for them.

"Hallo, Leo! What place is this?" called Jesse.

"This Sam Boyd farm. Steamboat come here--not go more higher,"

answered Leo. He steadied the bow of the _Bronco_ as they swung in, and soon all were standing on the sh.o.r.e.

"Plenty house here, plenty farm--trail up there, all way to Revelstruck," said Leo.

The boys looked at their boat and at the river, and then gazed up the bank, at the summit of which, as they now learned, lay what might be called the skirmish-line of civilization, the point which practically ended their adventures. A feeling of regret and disappointment came over them all, which was reflected in their countenances as they turned toward their leader.

"I know how you feel, boys," said their uncle, "for I never want to leave the woods myself. But we'll go up and have a look over things, and find out maybe more than Leo has told us about our plans."

XXIX

STORIES OF THE COLUMBIA

When they had climbed to the top of the highest bank they saw before them a clearing of over two hundred acres, a part of which had been made into a hay-field. Immediately in front of them was a yard full of beautiful flowers, kept as well as any flower-garden in the cities. To the left lay a series of barns and sheds, and near by was a vegetable-garden in which small green things already were beginning to show.

"Well, what do you know about this?" demanded John. "It looks as though we certainly had got to where people live at last. This is the finest place we've seen in many a day, and I'll bet we can get something to eat here, too."

Leo raised a shout, which presently brought out of the house a man who proved to be the caretaker of the place, a well-seasoned outdoor character by name of O'Brien. He advanced now and made them welcome.

"Come in, come in," said he, "and tell me who ye may be and where ye come from? Is it you, Leo? I thought you were at the Cache, far above."

"We all were there a few days ago," replied the leader of the party.

"We engaged Leo to bring us down the Canoe and the Columbia, and out to Revelstoke--we've crossed the mountains at the Yellowhead Pa.s.s, coming west from Edmonton by pack-train."

"Ye're jokin', man!" rejoined O'Brien. "Shure, ye'll not be tellin' me those boys came all that way?"

"Him did," said Leo, with almost his first word of praise. "Boys all right. Kill 'um grizzlum. Not scare' of rapid."

They went on now to explain to O'Brien more details of their journey and its more exciting incidents, including the hunt for the grizzlies and the still more dangerous experiences on the rapids. O'Brien listened with considerable amazement.

"But I know Leo," he added, "and he'll go annywheres in a boat. 'Tis not the first time he's run this river, bad cess to her! But come in the house now, and I'll be gettin' ye something to eat, for belike ye're hungry."

"We are frankly and thoroughly hungry," said Uncle d.i.c.k, "especially John here, who is hungry most of the time. We've reached your place just as our grub was about gone. Can we stock up with you a little bit, O'Brien?"

"Shure, if ye need to. But why not take pa.s.sage on the steamer--she's due this afternoon at three o'clock, and she's goin' down to-morrow.

Ye see, we run a wood-yard here, for the steamboat company owns this farm now, and I'm takin' care of it for them."

"What do you say, boys?" asked their leader. "Shall we make it on down? Or shall we take to the steamer and leave our boats here?"

"Better take to the steamboat," said O'Brien. "True, ye could get down mayhap to the head of Revelstoke Canon all right, but then ye'd have to walk in about five miles annyway. The steamer can't run the canon herself, for that matter, and no boat should try it at this stage, nor anny other stage, fer all that. She's a murderer, this old river, that's what she is."

Leo and Moise now helped O'Brien with his preparation of the meal, so that in a little time they were all sitting on real chairs and at a real table, with a real oil-cloth cover--the first of such things they had seen for many a day. Their own tin dishes they left in their boats, and ate from china, coa.r.s.e but clean. Their meal was well cooked and abundant, and O'Brien gave them with a certain pride some fresh rhubarb, raised in a hotbed of his own, and also fried eggs.

"Wait a little," said he, "and I'll give ye new potatoes and all sorts o' things. 'Tis a good farm we have here."

"But how came you to have a farm like this, up here in the Selkirks?"

inquired Rob.

"Well, you see," answered O'Brien, "there's quite a bit of gold-mining up here, and has been more. Those camps at the gold-creeks above here all needed supplies, and they used to pack them in--the pack-trail's right back of our barn yonder. But Sam Boyd knew that every pound of hay and other stuff he raised fifty miles north of Revelstoke was that much closer to the market. This was his farm, you know--till the river got him, as she will every one who lives along her, in time.

"Ye see, Sam was the mail-carrier here, between Revelstoke and the camps above, and, as the trail is a horror, he mostly went by boat.

His partner was Tom Horn, a good riverman too, and the two of them in their canoe went up and down together manny a trip. 'Twas a careful man he was, too, Sam, and no coward. But one time, to save them a little walk, I suppose, they concluded to run the Revelstoke Canon.

Well, they never got through, and what became of them no one knows, except that their boat came through in bits. Ye're lucky this fellow Leo didn't want to run ye all through there, with the fine big boats ye've got below. But at least Sam and Tom never made it through.

"Well, the old river got them, as she has so manny. Sam's widow lived on here fer a time, then went to town and died there, and the company took the farm. They have a c.h.i.n.k to keep Mrs. Boyd's flower-garden going the way she did before, for the boys all liked it in the mines.

And back in the woods is a whole bunch of c.h.i.n.ks, wood-cutters that supplies the boats. When my c.h.i.n.k is done his gardenin' I make him hoe my vegetables fer me.

"So ye're grizzly-hunters, are ye, all of ye?" continued O'Brien. "And not afraid to take yer own life in your hands? 'Tis well, and anny man must learn that who goes into the wilds. But manny a tale I could tell ye of bould and brave men who've not been able to beat this old river here. Take yon canon above Revelstoke, fer instance. She'd be but a graveyard, if the tale was told. One time six men started through in a big bateau, and all were lost but one, and he never knew how he got through at all. Once they say a raft full of Chinamen started down, and all were swept off and drowned but one. He hung to a rope, and was swept through somehow, but when they found him he was so bad scared he could not say a word. He hit the ties afoot, goin' west and shakin' his head, and maybe bound for China. No man could ever get him to spake again!

"Now do ye mind the big rapids up there they call the Death Rapids, above the Priest--I'm thinkin' ye lined through there, or ye wouldn't be here at the table now, much as I know how Leo hates to line a boat."

"We certainly did line," said Uncle d.i.c.k, "and were glad to get through at that. We lost almost a day there getting down."

"Lucky ye lost no more, fer manny a man has lost his all at that very spot. Once a party of fourteen started down, in good boats, too, and only one man got out alive. Some say sixty men have been drowned in that one rapid; some say a hundred and sixty-five, counting in the Chinamen and Frenchmen who were drowned in the big stampede the time so manny started down to the diggings on rafts. Ye see, they'd shoot right around the head of the bend without sendin' a man ahead to prospect the water, and then when they saw the rapids, 'twas too late to get to either side. 'Tis a death trap she is there, and well named.

"Wan time a Swede was spilled out on the Death Rapids, and somehow he came through alive. He swam for two miles below there before they could catch him with a boat, and he'd been swimming yet if they hadn't caught him, he was that scared, and if they hadn't hit him on the head with a oar. 'Twas entirely crazy he was.

"Mayhap ye remember the cabin on the west side, where they're sluicing--that's Joe Howard's cabin. Well, Howard, like everywan else on the river, finds it easiest to get in and out by boat. Wan time he and his mate were lining down a boat not far from sh.o.r.e when she broke away. Howard jumped on a rock, but 'twas so far out he dared not try to swim ash.o.r.e, fer the current set strong. The other man grabbed the boat and got through the edge of the rapids somehow, but 'twas half a mile below before he got ash.o.r.e. Then he cuddn't get the boat up again to where Howard was, and 'twas two or three hours of figgerin' he did before Howard dared take the plunge and try to catch the pole which his mate reached out to him. 'Twas well-nigh crazy he was--a man nearly always goes crazy when he's left out on a rock in the fast water that way.