138 SPORT IN VANCOUVER 



overshadowed the valley, after goat, deer and 

 bear. 



September 20th. It was a fine morning and 

 the snow- covered peaks of Mount Kingcome 

 about 6,000 feet above us, where we hoped to 

 find our goats, were glistening in the morning 

 sun. 



Smith was hors de combat — I had offered to 

 send him home from Alert Bay, but he said he 

 was quite fit to go on. I think he was a bit 

 nervous when he saw the climb before him, for 

 carrying a pack up the steep mountain was no 

 joke. 



I was fortunate enough to secure the services 

 of Harry Kirby, one of the settlers who knew 

 the country well and he was willing to take 

 Smith's place ; a better man after goat I could 

 not wish to have. He was very deaf and 

 somewhat outspoken. Looking me over he 

 said, " You are too stout for goat," which I 

 rather felt to be true, though the trip after 

 wapiti had fined me down considerably. I 

 was, however, in hard condition by this time, 

 and half-way up when we stopped for a midday 

 meal, he quietly remarked, " I think after 

 all you will do," and so my character as a 

 prospective goat-hunter was restored. 



Quite a good track was blazed and cleared 



