THE SHEEP EATER CAMPAIGN. 



437 



fish. That was a very deep lake away up in 

 the mountains, and the water was quite 

 warm. To explore this lake we constructed 

 rafts, and floated out a mile or more from 

 the shore. We had some picket ropes with 

 us, and with them we sounded to the depth 

 of perhaps ioo feet, but found no bottom. 

 We dove into it, and the temperature of the 

 water increased with its depth. We enjoyed 

 this lake very much, as all the other waters 

 we found were too cool for comfortable 

 bathing. 



Among the curiosities we found, per- 

 haps the greatest was the red fish in 

 the head waters of Payette river. Gazing 

 into one of the deep pools of this stream, 

 one could see what appeared to be a red 

 gravel bottom; but on throwing a stone 

 into the water, this red bottom would break 

 into a thousand pieces, and the pieces 

 would fly in all directions. Then for the 

 first time one could see it was fish that made 

 the bottom of the pool red. These fish re- 

 semble the salmon in all respects save the 

 red coloring of their backs. I have never 

 seen or heard of them in any other place. 

 On this stream we found a man preparing 

 a seine for catching them. We helped him 

 with his seine, and in return he allowed us 

 to use it for our haul. It was all we wanted, 

 as we secured enough fish for supper and 

 breakfast for the' entire command.* 



Another curiosity was one of our own 

 creation. One afternoon we went into 

 camp near a mountain torrent which we 

 were obliged to cross, but whose banks 

 were vertical walls 30 feet in height. 

 Fording or swimming was out of the ques- 

 tion. We must make a bridge for men and 

 animals. We made the bridge and that was 

 the curiosity. First we dropped a huge pine 

 tree across the chasm. Over this some men 

 crept, and cut off the upper branches so that 

 the trunk of the tree would lie snugly on 

 the ground. Then long slender pine poles 

 were cut and locked together so that one 

 would hang on either side of the large log, 



* Professor B. W. Evermann, ichthyologist of the U. S. 

 fish Commission, Washington, D. C, in reply to an in- 

 quiry as to the identity of this fish, says : 



•' The redfish of Big Payette lake is known in the books 

 as Oncorhynchus nerka (Walbaum). It is a true salmon 

 and runs up from the sea to spawn just as the Chinook 

 salmon does. It is, in different places, known by differ- 

 ent common names : in the lower Columbia it is the blue- 

 back salmon ; in British Columbia, the Fraser river sal- 

 mon ; while in the Idaho lakes and throughout Alaska, 

 and even to Kamchatka, redfish is its name. In Alaska 

 it is, commercially, by far the most important species of 

 the family. In the Columbia river it ranks next to the 

 famous Chinook, Oncorhynchus tschaivytscha. In 1892, 

 the Columbia river canneries utilized 909,5^6 Chinook sal- 

 mon, while the number of bluebacks (which is our redfish) 

 utilized was nearly as great, it being 873,106. For canning 

 purposes it is fully equal to the justly celebrated Chinook. 

 These salmon do not get red until near the breeding sea- 

 son. They enter the Columbia in the spring, reach the 

 Idaho lakes late in the summer, pass through the lakes 

 into their small cold inlets in which they spawn during the 

 early fall, and then die. It is not certain that any of those 

 which reach these lakes ever return to the sea or live to 

 spawn a second time. There is no evidence that they are 

 land-locked, as many hare supposed." 



and with the tops of the poles about on a 

 level with the top of the log. Pine boughs 

 were then laid on, and over this we strewed 

 earth. Our bridge was then complete. It 

 was a narrow bridge, and a roaring torrent 

 dashed under it. Many thought the animals 

 would refuse to cross; but they did not. 

 All crossed in a few minutes, and without 

 much trouble. It is needless to say the 

 horsemen did not ride across that bridge. 



On July 4th we held our celebration at 

 about noon, on a huge snow-bank on the 

 top of a high ridge, by pelting each other 

 with snowballs. While we were thus en- 

 gaged, our officers, for safety, I presume, 

 climbed to the top of a bare peak sticking 

 out of the snow. From their position they 

 discovered some bighorns down at the base 

 of the peak, and on the side opposite us. 

 Lieutenant P — hurried down, and taking 3 

 of us with him, crept around the base of the 

 peak, where we crawled, under cover of a 

 snowbank, to within about 25 feet of the 

 sheep, while they were peacefully snoozing 

 in the sunshine. We killed 3 fine fat fellows, 

 and greatly enjoyed the feast that followed. 



About the middle of July we found what 

 we had wanted for a long time — not the In- 

 dians, but a fighting bear. All summer we 

 had been looking for such an animal, for we 

 had an alleged bear fighter with us, a man 

 known as Reddy, and we wanted to see him 

 slay a bear by his own pet method. Ac- 

 cording to his story, he was a wonderful 

 slayer of ugly and wounded bears. The way 

 the trick was done was to drop on his back 

 and let the bear walk over him, when he 

 would leisurely disembowel him. He had 

 done the thing often in Montana, he said; 

 but for some reason we were all a trifle 

 skeptical and were anxious to see Reddy 

 perform the act. 



Some bear had been shot during the sum- 

 mer; but they had all yielded up the ghost 

 too easily, affording Reddy no chance. 

 One afternoon, just about time to make 

 camp, we came to a small patch of clear 

 ground in the middle of which was a bear, 

 and an ugly one he proved to be. On see- 

 ing us he stopped rooting, and sat up to 

 take a good look. The captain and scout 

 fired at once, knocking him over; but, 

 after rolling about a bit. he got his feet 

 under him and scampered off into the tim- 

 ber. 



We went into camp right there. As 

 soon as the horses were turned out to graze, 

 some of us found Reddy and told him we 

 were sure of finding the wounded bear not 

 far away, and we wanted him to show us 

 how to kill it with a knife. Reddy did not 

 take kindly to the scheme, arguing that the 

 bear had only been tickled enough to make 

 him travel well, and he was already miles 

 away and still going. But by guying and 

 coaxing we got him to go with us. 



We soon found a trail of blood, and began 

 to fear we should soon find a dead bear and 



