WHERE THE BIGHORN ROAMS. 



W. B. LEE. 



Last fall the opportunity came for K. and 

 me to go to the extreme Northwest for big- 

 horn and mountain goats. My outfit con- 

 sisted only of one corduroy suit and -an 

 extra pair of trousers; 2 heavy flannel 

 shirts; 2 suits of underwear; an extra 

 weight football sweater, for night ; a rub 

 her blanket ; a pair of Hudson Bay Com- 

 pany 4 mark blankets ; a sleeping bag and 

 tocpie, or night cap ; 3 pairs of lumbermen's 

 socks ; 2 pairs cotton socks ; hob-nailed 

 shoes ; Penetang shoe packs ; 2 pairs of 

 moccasins ; felt slippers ; handkerchiefs ; 

 towel and soap. These all went in a large 

 canvas waterproof bag- called in the North 

 a turkey. Besides these, I took a small 

 leather carryall, into which t put reels and 

 fishing tackle, hand mirror, comb, shaving- 

 apparatus, memorandum books, thermome- 

 ter, a few medicaments, needles, thread, and 

 such small things. 



Although we were 2 days in reaching 

 St. Paul, the real journey seemed to begin 

 there. As K and I boarded the Great 

 Northern train the thrill of anticipation was 

 keen. Ihe journey West from St. Paul 

 up to the backbone of the Rocky mountains 

 was interesting but not exciting. The trees 

 in sight might nave been counted ; but 

 when we began to descend the other side 

 everything was changed. Canyons and val- 

 leys, swift running streams and rivers, and 

 great forests of firs, pines and spruces made 

 a delightful change. We finally reached 

 Spokane, and about 2 o'clock in the morn- 

 ing of the fifth day we and our belongings 

 were dumped out at the lonely station of 

 Wenatchee. There the railroad crosses the 

 Columbia river, where it takes its second 

 turn and starts West on its final journey to 

 the Pacific. It comes to Wenatchee from 

 due North 70 miles, and up that distance 

 we were to go to the Bend, where the river 

 comes down from the Northeast. 



We made a perilous passage in the dark 

 from the station with our trunks down to 

 the river, the banks of which seemed at that 

 time the sides of a good sized canyon. We 

 couldn't see the water when we got there, 

 but could hear it rushing and boiling along. 

 I had heard the current was swift ; it 

 sounded that morning like a cataract. The 

 little steamer which goes up twice a week 

 was chained to the bank, and we climbed 

 on board and lay down on the deck to wait 

 until daylight. 



At 5 in the morning I was awakened by 

 the efforts our craft was making to get 

 started. I was at once impressed with the 

 fact that the boat was built strictly for 

 business. It had a strong, scow like hull, 



with a square stern, across which, the ex- 

 treme width, towered a great paddle 

 wheel; a slightly built superstructure of a 

 cabin ; and extremely powerful engines. 

 The machinery seemed to take up most of 

 the room, and it was all needed, for this 

 stretch of 70 miles of so-called navigable 

 water is said to be more dangerous than 

 the Yukon. The fall is 594 feet in the 70 

 miles. The steamer goes up twice in some 

 weeks, and some weeks it doesn't go at all. 



The current averages 6 to 10 miles an 

 hour, with 2 heavy rapids, the Methow and 

 the Entiat, thrown in. In some places we 

 seemed barely to move for some minutes, 

 the volume of water was so tremendous. 

 The color was a deep blue or green, more 

 intense than that of Niagara ; indeed, I can 

 find no standard of comparison except with 

 the Niagara below the Whirlpool, as seen 

 from the Gorge railroad. The Columbia, 

 pouring its mighty flood, second only to 

 the Mississippi in volume, through these 

 outposts of the Cascade mountains, is still 

 not dwarfed by its environment. 



Back from the river, with a high water 

 mark of 40 feet, the mountains rise, with no 

 sign of vegetation except sage brush. It 

 reminded me of the Arizona desert in the 

 brilliant sunshine, except that this river 

 might irrigate 2 or 3 arid Western States. 



The catch of salmon in the Columbia sup- 

 plies most of the civilized world with the 

 canned commodity. They are taken by all 

 sorts of mechanical contrivances in the 

 early part of the summer; the wheel, an 

 arrangement which scoops them out whole- 

 sale, being the most deadly. I was tempted 

 by the sight of some fish as we ran by the 

 points, and laboriously got out about 400 

 feet of troll, but caught nothing except the 

 blades of our big paddle wheel. 



Virginia City, the head of navigation, 

 was reached at 8 p. m. It contains a hotel, 

 a post office, one store and 5 houses. Just 

 before reaching there we passed the mouth 

 of the outlet of Lake Chelan, which lies 

 about 40 miles West in the heart of the Cas- 

 sade range. The United States Geographi- 

 cal Survey is now exploring it. and has 

 sounded to a depth of 2.750 feet in the lake 

 without reaching bottom. 



The next morning we started due North 

 it)0 miles, by a primitive 2 horse wagon 

 called a stage, for British Columbia, where 

 we had been led to believe the bighorn and 

 the goat could be found in their most un- 

 sophisticated state. It was extremely dusty, 

 for the Eastern slope of the Cascades, un- 

 like the Western, resembles a desert, and 

 there had been no rain for months. Sage 



