AT EH EMEA: 
WALTER G. CORKER. 
Alturas lake, or Red Fish lake, by which 
name it is better known, is 20 miles from 
Atlanta, over the trail, and 3 miles from 
Sawtooth City, Idaho. In the early days 
Sawtooth was a booming mining camp, but 
now it is deserted, with the exception of 
one family. Beaver creek runs through 
the collection of log: houses, and empties 
into Salmon river. It is a pretty country 
all around the lakes, and several families 
from the East had decided to spend a few 
weeks at this lovely spot. My partner and 
I were none of them, but just happened to 
drop off at the lake, the same as the geese 
and swan do on their trips South. 
We pulled in about dusk one night, and 
as we could see the light from camp fires, 
and hear the tinkle of horse bells up by old 
Martin’s cabin, where he had been found 
in the spring, 2 years before, starved to 
death, we decided to pull off our packs, 
where we were, until we could see who our 
neighbors might be. 
Next morning the sun was well up before 
we could bring ourselves to leave the luxury 
of a pine bough bed. Finally we rolled our, 
and Hank went to the lake for a pail of 
water. On coming back he reported, that 
from the tracks he had seen on the lake’s 
edge, that the woods were full of women 
and children. 
After breakfast, we started to hunt up our 
horses, and found them with our neighbor’s 
stock. We unhobbled our cayuses, and 
started for camp, when 2 of the men from 
the other camp came up. One wore glasses 
and the other man called him “ Doc.” 
Both showed by their manners that they 
were tenderfeet. They asked innumerable 
questions about the country and the game, 
and one of them expressed the opinion that 
the country was full of horse thieves; for 
a few days before they. had lost 2 of their 
best horses, and had failed, so far, to find 
any trace of them. 
We saw nothing strange in this and asked 
what kind of horses they were—their 
brands, etc. The men told us and we 
answered that the day before we had seen 
them about 2 miles below our present camp. 
The men were delighted to hear this, and 
said they would start at once to find them. 
We went to camp, and shortly they 
rode by. It was not long until they re- 
turned with the runaways. They pulled up 
at our camp and we gave them the West- 
ern invitation, to “ get down, and look at 
their saddles.” 
About 11 o’clock they said they must go, 
and invited us to come and take dinner 
with them. We accepted, as they assured 
us 2 more would make no difference; that 
they were 18 in family, and had a hired 
cook. Hank and I went through our Sara- 
togas, and fished out a clean flannel shirt, 
and a new pair of overalls each, in spite of 
the Doctor’s assurance that our buckskin 
suits were sufficiently dressy. 
We found them all pleasant and agree- 
able people, but not familiar with camp life. 
The Doctor was the head of the expedition 
and had located himself and family in old 
Martin’s cabin; but when we told them of 
the tragic ending of the rightful owner, 
they moved out in a hurry. 
For dinner-they had plenty of trout, and 
squaw fish, but said the only red fish they 
had taken, one of the party had killed with 
a rifle. Not knowing what they needed for 
catching this particular variety, they had 
brought a small seine, which was worthless 
on account of the trees, fallen in the creek, 
where these fish run up to spawn. 
That afternoon we made half a dozen 
Indian spears, with seasoned sarvice wood 
(Idaho hickory) for tips. These have one 
advantage over steel, that a knife will al- 
ways keep them good and sharp. If you 
miss a fish, and hit a rock you have done 
no great damage. We went out before sun 
down, and speared 9g big red fish, showing 
them how to do it. Before we left that 
night for camp, the party made us promise 
to come and camp with them, while we staid 
at the lake. 
One of the ladies had us ; posing for all 
kinds of snap shots for her Kodak, and as 
rifles and 6 shooters were our principal 
decorations, no doubt poor Hank and I | 
have passed for veritable desperadoes | 
among the 400 of New York ever since. 
We moved up next day, put up our 
“wickey-up,”’ and prepared for a general 
good time. Hank and I took a solemn oath 
that our new made friends should lose no 
more horses, nor themselves, if we could 
help it, and should live on the fat of the | 
land, as far as game was concerned. In 
the afternoon I went out with the entire 
camp to spear more red-fish, while Hank 
took his rifle to see what the prospects were © 
for fresh venison. We had good luck, 
spearing, although most of the party were 
wet to the skin, from falls in the creek. 
When we had gotten our fish all together, . 
there was too much of a load to carry to , 
camp, so we dressed them and strung them ' 
on a pole and hung them in the trees until 
the next day, when we intended to bring ng 
a pack horse, and pack them in, 

