228 MY SPORTING HOLIDAYS 



Washington. If report is true, this same State of 

 Washington should have been British territory, but 

 for the fact that the British representative on the 

 International Boundary Commission of that day 

 allowed it to go to Uncle Sam by default, after he 

 had discovered that the ' blasted ' salmon in the 

 Columbia Kiver did not rise to the fly. This latter 

 fact is, at all events, undoubtedly true. Columbia's 

 salmon are caught by net and trap, but not by the 

 guileful fly. 



To return to Vancouver and its woods, the valley 

 of San Juan is unapproachable by road. To get there 

 meant a voyage up Puget Sound, past Cape Flattery, 

 out into the Pacific Ocean for a few miles, and then 

 into a land-locked bay. No regular steamers ran. I 

 got over this first difficulty by chartering a small and 

 evil- smelling steam- tug for a week ; and the second 

 night after my arrival in Victoria I set sail for the 

 San Juan valley with a supply of stores, a rifle, and 

 a trout-rod, bent both on acquiring information and 

 seeking sport. 



That voyage I shall not easily forget, though it 

 only lasted for a night. The skipper was drunk. 

 Fortunately, the engineer knew his business. The 

 deck-house or cabin which I occupied was a lofty and 

 top-heavy construction, and once past Cape Flattery 

 and in the Pacific swell, where half a gale was blowing, 

 the roll was tremendous. We occasionally lay on our 

 beam-ends. The engineer subsequently confided to 

 me his whilom fear that we were going to capsize. 

 However, about 6 a.m. we swung round a headland 

 into San Juan Bay, much to my relief, and anchored 

 close to a small Indian settlement at the mouth of the 

 river. Dense forest and scrub clothed the valley 



