A Vancouver Salmon 199 



ferns, and mosses is proof abundant of a kindly 

 clime. Huge cedars suggest the famed big trees of 

 California ; gigantic firs, straight as lances, taper to 

 green points near one hundred yards overhead, while 

 everywhere in the deep shade rise fern fronds higher 

 than a tall man's head to meet the ever present pen- 

 dent beards of gray moss. Across the white roads 

 ruffed grouse mince out of the pedestrian's way, 

 clucking softly as they go with many halts and in- 

 nocent glances. Firearms are not allowed within 

 the park, and the birds know that safe cover is but 

 one short leap away. And such cover ! Crowding, 

 graceful ferns, so tall that a ruffed grouse flushing 

 near one's foot can buzz away unseen. 



From the crest of the cliff of Brockton Point, the 

 rough-hewn descent is so nearly vertical as to pre- 

 sent an apparent overhang, and it measures more 

 feet than a man could fall and live, even though he 

 struck nothing firmer than deep salt water. Upon 

 the green, moist boulders at the base at that time 

 rested a most interesting wreck, the little Beaver. 

 To that humble craft belonged the honor of being 

 the first steam vessel to plough Pacific billows. She 

 sailed round the Horn in 1836, carrying her boiler 

 and engine as ballast, the intention being to fit her 

 up at Vancouver Island. Her commander was a 

 sturdy Scot, and for reasons best known to himself 

 he put in at the Sandwich Islands. The then pre- 

 vailing monarch was a gentleman endowed with an 

 unlimited cargo capacity, a late tropical evening 

 complexion, and a curiosity like a well-auger. He 

 heard of the peculiarities of the Beaver s works, and 

 straightway craved to see the wheels go round. He 



