ON THE ISLAND OF VANCOUVER 229 



down to the sea- shore. A few hundred yards from 

 the mouth of the river on one side of the bay two 

 enterprising Victorians had established a small factory 

 for extracting the oil from the dog-fish caught on lines 

 in the bay. One of these men had accompanied us on 

 the steam-tug, and at intervals had filled me full of 

 information on the subject of the San Juan valley 

 and its resources, consisting mainly of timber, fish 

 and seal in plenty, with ultimate agricultural facilities 

 of the best kind if and when the valley was cleared. 



To come now to our sport. Having spent a day 

 in examining the factory and obtaining the informa- 

 tion I required, I started the following morning up 

 the river in a canoe, paddled by two Indians engaged 

 for the occasion, with tent and stores. The engineer, 

 of a sporting turn, with his dog and gun, also accom- 

 panied me, and together we formed a very fair boat- 

 load. Resisting for the present the temptation of 

 trying for the salmon I had seen leaping in the bay, I 

 determined to explore the river as high as possible. 



The rain was descending in torrents, but this in no 

 way interfered with sport. The engineer and myself 

 had waterproof coats, and at the last moment I had 

 borrowed a pair of long ' gum ' boots from the waiter 

 at the hotel, which came in most usefully. Our heads 

 were protected with those light felt hats which are 

 made nowhere better than in America. Though it 

 rained steadily off and on for three days, mine never 

 let in a drop of water. The Indians neither possessed 

 nor appeared to require any special protection from 

 the weather. 



Better hunting companions than these two par- 

 ticular redskins I never wish to meet. They were 

 quiet and handy, paddled and poled the laden canoe 



