THE OLYMPICS AND THEIR ELK. 



F. A. JOHNSON. 



Late in the summer of 1899, we sought 

 a new and unexplored field for an outing. 

 With light outfits, saddle and pack horses, 

 we had roamed over the White and Bear 

 river regions of Colorado, over the Big 

 Horns from end to end, through the Bear 

 River, Salt River, Gros Ventre, Snake River 

 and Teton range, and into the Wind River 

 and Shoshone mountains. We had done 

 some exploration work in the Rockies of 

 Montana, near the Northern boundary line, 

 where tne wildest rocky scenes of all were 

 found ; but with the exception of the latter 

 region, all were well known to many 

 others, and had been fully described. 

 Alaska was considered, but the Olympics, 

 of which comparatively few people have 

 any extensive knowledge, invited study. 

 Examination of the most recent maps 

 showed that surveys had been made of 

 Eastern and Northern portions of that re- 

 gion, and of a reservation on the Pacific 

 coast; but the great heart of the country 

 had never been traversed even by the sur- 

 veyors. Rivers were outlined radiating in 

 every direction from a common center, ap- 

 parently not more than 10 miles square; 

 coast ranges were shown, and we knew 

 from general experience that mountain 

 ridges separated the beds of streams. 

 Every map revealed a range running near- 

 ly East and West about 60 miles, and 

 North of that range, in the heart of the 

 wilderness, was seated old Mt. Olympus, 

 in solitary grandeur. We searched in vain 

 for information as to the central region. 

 Articles in Recreation gave graphic pic- 

 tures of the Eastern slope, dropping down 

 into Hood's canal, and the region about 

 Crescent lake, in the Northwest; and it 

 should be here noted that the files of 

 Recreation contain an immense store of 

 modern geographical knowledge not to be 

 found elsewhere. Letters from sports- 

 men of the Washington coast informed us 

 that the great white dome of Olympus had 

 never felt the foot of man, and was not 

 accessible. This fact brought a decision. 



The party consisted of 4; 3 lawyers and 

 a physician who is a specialist in surgery; 

 all men of some experience in such trips. 

 A superb train of the Great Northern car- 

 ried us to Seattle, where we took a steam- 

 er, landed at Port Angeles, employed Mr. 

 C. C. Bowman and a cook, outfitted with 

 substantial provisions, and horses for pack- 

 ing and riding, as far as they could be 

 used, and ascended the valley of the Elwha 

 river, determined to reach the heart of the 

 region on horseback or sole leather. Mr. 



Bowman had ascended the valley about 30 

 miles, but beyond that it was unexplored. 

 On the way up we concluded that horses 

 could not be taken through, and employed 

 Martin Hume, a hunter having a cabin in 

 the valley, which we found ornamented 

 with the skins of black bear and with elk 

 antlers. Passing through Press valley, so 

 named by a party of newspaper men from 

 Seattle who had penetrated to that point 

 from the East side, and on through forests 

 of great cedars and firs, 4 to 10 feet in 

 diameter ; through clumps of familiar al- 

 ders, here grown into trees 60 feet high 

 and a foot in diameter ; climbing up and 

 down over a continuous succession of 

 great mountain spurs ; carefully selecting 

 old elk trails wherever they led in the 

 right direction ; stopping to rescue horses 

 which had fallen down the steep slopes, 

 and on 3 occasions to aid the doctor in 

 applying modern antiseptic surgery to the 

 poor brutes, where gashed and torn by the 

 rocks, we finally, on the fifth day, reached 

 a point where 3 forks form the main river. 

 There we made a main camp, and sent one 

 of the men back several miles with the 

 horses to a place where they could find 

 feed. 



Leaving 3 of the party in camp, Hume 

 undertook to explore the North fork, and 

 Bowman and I, the other 2. It was ar- 

 ranged that all should return the next day 

 and report results. We started early in 

 the morning, outfitted with rifle, hatchet, 

 camera, knives, and a small pack of pro- 

 visions, appreciating so well the work 

 ahead that even a blanket was discarded. 

 One branch was soon found to be short, 

 and Bowman and I ascended the middle 

 one. After a half day of as hard climb- 

 ing as the country affords, we reached the 

 top of the divide, between towering moun- 

 tains covered with snow and ice, and 

 found this branch had its source in Lake 

 Mary. 



About 100 feet farther South, and separ- 

 ated from Lake Mary by a solid wall of 

 volcanic rock, is Lake Margaret, the 

 waters of which flow Southward into the 

 Quinault river. Neither lake covers more 

 than 2 acres, but they are little gems, and 

 the valley of the latter is a veritable para- 

 dise for a sportsman and lover of moun- 

 tain scenery. It is not more than 3 miles 

 long and is hemmed in by lofty mountains 

 on either side, which are dotted with 

 groves of firs and grassy parks, kept green 

 by the melting snow above, as well as by 

 the almost continuous rain of that region. 



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