CHAPTER VI 



THE CASSIAR TRAIL 



I MADE a second trip up the Stickeen in August 

 and from the head of navigation pushed inland 

 for general views over dry grassy hills and plains on 

 the Cassiar trail. 



Soon after leaving Telegraph Creek I met a merry 

 trader who encouragingly assured me that I was going 

 into the most wonderful region in the world, that 

 "the scenery up the river was full of the very wildest 

 freaks of nature, surpassing all other sceneries either 

 natural or artificial, on paper or in nature. And give 

 yourself no bothering care about provisions, for wild 

 food grows in prodigious abundance everywhere. A 

 man was lost four days up there, but he feasted on 

 vegetables and berries and got back to camp in good 

 condition. A mess of wild parsnips and pepper, for 

 example, will actually do you good. And here's my 

 advice go slow and take the pleasures and sceneries 

 as you go." 



At the confluence of the first North Fork of the 

 Stickeen I found a band of Toltan or Stick Indians 

 catching their winter supply of salmon in willow traps, 

 set where the fish are struggling in swift rapids on 

 their way to the spawning-grounds. A large supply 

 had already been secured, and of course the Indians 

 were well fed and merry. They were camping in large 

 booths made of poles set on end in the ground, with 



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