246 



AMERICAN FORESTRY 



life miserable for the horses. At last the South Fork 

 was forded at a point near the mouth of Salmon Creek, 

 the outlet of the lake, which lies about three miles from 

 the main river at this point. A camp spot was selected 

 on a bluff overlooking the South Fork. 



A more ideal camp would be hard to find. The top of 

 the bluff was level, carpeted with a growth of clean, soft 

 grass and shaded by an open growth of pine. Plenty of 

 wood was within easy reach, and it was only a few steps 

 down to a pebbly beach, from which by leaning out ever 

 so slightly, one could dip up a kettleful of the clear, 

 rushing stream. Not far below the camp a giant granite 

 boulder caught part of the swift current, turned it aside 

 in a seething swirl of foam, and left it to regain its poise 

 in a deep pool of pelucid green water, 

 close under the bank. Henry had as 

 yet evidenced no desire to fish, but 

 one look into this pool sent his jaded 

 legs scurrying back to camp for rod 

 and line. Here we left him, agree- 

 ing to call him in time for lunch. 



Preparations for dinner were 

 somewhat elaborate. Unlike the 

 hurried noon lunches of the preced- 

 ing days, this was to be a sumptuous 

 and leisurely meal. The packs were 

 rifled for treasured delicacies, which 

 had been discreetly hidden until now. 

 Preparations lasted until well into the 

 afternoon, each of us taking satis- 

 faction in doing things with a certain 

 preciseness omitted when lack of 

 time or fatigue causes one to over- 

 look many little niceties of culinary 

 technique. 



At last a shot was fired as a signal 

 for Henry to bring his catch. Five 

 minutes later he appeared, bringing 

 a string of fish that would have done 

 credit to a far more experienced 

 sportsman, and which, I think, lent 

 color in Henry's mind to the fish 

 stories which had formed a considerable part of the 

 preceding evening's entertainment. With a beaming smile 

 he held up his fish, weighing in the neighborhood of two 

 and a half pounds. He insisted on dressing and cooking 

 it himself the first and only attempt at cooking that he 

 made on the trip. That it was highly successful, we all 

 admitted. 



We finished the meal and lay comfortably stretched on 

 the ground, happily oblivious of the array of dirty dishes 

 scattered about. The talk rambled idly from one sub- 

 ject to another, the general lassitude hardly inspiring 

 much conversational effort. Henry thought he "might 

 try his luck again before dark," which brought forth 

 some remark about washing dishes. At this propitious 

 time visitors appeared in camp. A man and his wife 

 were camping no great distance away and had been 

 notified of our presence by the shot fired before dinner. 



THIRTY MINUTES OF ANGLING 



A shot was fired as a signal for Henry to bring 

 in his catch. Five minutes later he appeared 

 bringing a string of fish that would have done 

 credit to a far more experienced sportsman. 



I suspect they had been spying on our festivities, an inno- 

 cent enough pleasure to which they were welcome. They 

 had been in this secluded locality for ten days, had seen 

 no one but two fire guards who were camping on the 

 lake ; and last but not least, had run short of many essen- 

 tial articles of food, being at present reduced to the 

 necessity of living largely from fish, lard and flour. They 

 shyly admitted being on their honeymoon, a fact which 

 we had already suspected. The remains of our sumptuous 

 meal excited their wonder, the label of each empty can 

 being examined with surprise, and possibly a touch of 

 secret derision. In an effort at hospitality, we unearth- 

 ened a can of fruit from our dwindling store, which our 

 visitors admitted was a welcome treat. 



The talk lasted far into the eve- 

 ning, the dishes still happily forgot- 

 ten. Plans were made for a trip on 

 the morrow to the top of one of the 

 mountains near by under the guid- 

 ance of our new friends. 



At last a spot light was improvised 

 with the empty fruit can and a piece 

 of candle, and after' gracious offers 

 to wash the dishes (which we as 

 graciously refused), they lit their 

 tiny light with a splinter from the 

 fire, and left to pick out the shadowy 

 trail to their tent. A shot fired a 

 few minutes later told us that they 

 had reached home. Then we washed 

 the dishes. 



The hot summer day was well ad- 

 vanced, when, after a late breakfast, 

 we started on our way to the top of 

 the ridge north of the lake. The 

 first part of the ascent was in heavy 

 timber, but this was soon left be- 

 hind, and we entered a straggling 

 growth of fir with many open spots 

 from which were had easterly vistas 

 of the mountains lying along the 

 Continental Divide. In great pro- 

 cession they march along, massively piled against the sky 

 with here and there a cliff glancing in the sun, and vying 

 in whiteness with patches of snow which have persistently 

 defied the heat of summer. Impressive in bulk and 

 fantastic in shape, they certainly give fitting grandeur to 

 the backbone of the continent. 



The crest of the ridge was reached at last, and fol- 

 lowed over minor dips and rises, brought us to a point 

 on the west end, rocky and precipitous, from which we 

 gained our first view of Big Salmon. Possibly three 

 miles long, it lies in a broad "U"-shaped valley, sur- 

 rounded by timbered slopes unscarred by forest fires. A 

 strangely sculptured cliff, known as Locomotive Rock, 

 juts high above the ridge on the south, keeping, as it 

 were, lonely vigil over the lake. To the west, at the head 

 of the valley, rise mountains on whose sides hang rem- 

 nants of the glaciers which in some remote time gouged 



