Aug. 10, 1895.] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



115 



Right about Penticton no very large heads are secured, 

 but one can get a specimen. I was fortunate to be able to 

 get off at Trout Creek, as there is no hotel, but a rancher 

 whom 1 had become acquainted with proved a friend 

 indeed, and met me at the landing. It was a pretty stiff 

 climb up from the lake, as the land all about this section 

 is high, rolling table land, rising abruptly from the lake 

 several hundred feet, and it was dark before we climbed 

 the mile and a half to the ranch. Here we found a hearty 

 welcome and a good supper of roast deer and good things 

 from the ranch. Never was a stranger treated more 

 royally, and it was a novelty to one who had knocked 

 about hunting as I had to find a place where game was 

 where we could live as well as at home, and go out and 

 shoot right in the dooryard, as it were. It took a couple 

 of days to get the lay of the land, hunting togs unpacked, 

 and in shape for a hunt, and then the first day's hunt took 

 place and three fine mule deer, or as they are commonly 

 called black-tail, were the result and I was home by five 

 o'clock and did not go out in the morning until nine. 



The country was one of the finest to hunt over I ever 

 saw — rolling, free from brush, not very hard climbing in 

 the mountains and the deer anything but wild. Deer can 

 be slaughtered there if one desires, but not being on a 

 first hunt and more anxious to see the country and learn 

 it than to make big bags I took it easy. Our ranch and 

 the others near by had all the meat we wanted while I 

 stayed; and though some of the Englishmen roundabout 

 "kicked" because the Yankee came in and killed "their" 

 deer, they did not refuse to take some of the venison, and 

 one of those who "talked" came along one day just after 

 a fine deer was killed and very gladly got off his cow 

 pony and walked home with the deer that was offered 

 him, as I did not care to go after the horse to pack it in. 

 He was out with his "scatter gun" after a duck and 

 walked home with a deer, which the Yankee shot and 

 gave him. 



There was much pretty, if not grand, scenery about the 

 Lloyd- Jones Ranoh at Trout Creek, and when not in a 

 mood for hunting we took some views. Mr. Lloyd-Jones 

 informed me of a mountain down the lake that he said 

 he had always been anxious to get a photo of, as it was a 

 natural curiosity, there being on the side of it an exact 

 representation of an old man's profile. So we walked the 

 five miles one morning and packed the camera and made 

 an exposure, which proved to be a very good picture 

 when we reached home. It does not require any very 

 vivid imagination to see the cap, forehead, nose, mouth 

 and beard of the "old man of the mountain," as we 

 christened the huge rock, and we were the first ones to 

 take his huge "phiz," so ought to have the honor of nam- 

 ing him. There are so many pretty views to be taken 

 that if we had wished we could have spent several days 

 in this way, but, as every brother in the craft knows, one 

 cannot pack glass plates enough to take everything he 

 sees and wants to. It is hard sometimes, though, to 

 choose when there are so many fine things. The days 

 passed rapidly on the ranch twixt hunting and photog- 

 raphy. 



Unfortunately a storm came up just when with an In- 

 dian guide I was about to go back into the main range 

 for a few days, and as the Siwash said "High as rain; no 

 hunt um much; no see urn in mountain ; heap fog, scukum 

 in sail house," meaning that if we went there would be 

 lots of rain and we would have to stay in the tent, as the 

 fog would prevent our hunting; therefore, as the quarters 

 I bad were so nice that it was more tempting to stay 

 there than to roam about in the rain and snow, I con- 

 cluded to stay and hunt nearer home. We went, the 

 rancher and myself, one day after blue grouse and deer 

 up into the highest peaks of the mountains I usually 

 hunted on, and though we got into a fog and could not 

 Bee far enough to see any deer we had good Bport with 

 the grouse, knocking them out of the tree with a little 

 .22cal. rifle. 



Nov. 1 1 was to have been in Detroit, but here it was 

 long past the first and I was not even started homeward; 

 but the time came for us to go, and though not satisfied 

 (who ever is?) I felt I had accomplished about all I could, 

 and it would be only repetition to hunt more. 



The last evening of my more than pleasant stay at the 

 Lloyd- Jones ranch came, and we hitched up the buck- 

 board to haul some of the luggage to the wharf, and 

 started for the lake. We hesitated about taking the 

 rifles, and decided not to, and off we went. A mile below 

 the house the dogs stirred up a flock of at least one hun- 

 dred chickens, and then just below us stood two deer. 



We whispered "It might have been," and drove on. 

 We unloaded the boxes and started back, and there, 

 much nearer, in fact within easy range, stood the deer. 

 They knew we did not have a gun. "It was ever thus." 



A dreary cold morning came in honor of my departure 

 and we were at the lake ready to signal the Aberdeen 

 when she came round the point. I took leave of my 

 friend and soon was speeding northward again. The 

 November sun shone out of a stormy-looking sky, and 

 the attempts to photograph some of the scenery below 

 Kelowna, though made, did not promise great success. 



At Kelowna we did not stop long on the up trip, and 

 continued our journey. Only a few miles from Okana- 

 gan landing we saw a boat putting out into the track of 

 the steamer, and when we slowed down and she came 

 alongside we had more proof that this was a great game 

 country. An old chap and a boy were in the boat, and 

 they had two fine big horns (mountain sheep) and a big 

 mule deer buck, which they had shot just back from the 

 lake. 



We took the game on board and went our way, while 

 the boat pulled back to their camp A short stop was 

 made at Vernon and we then went on to Sycamous, The 

 Okanagan country is one of the finest game countries of 

 the West, and anyone who goes there who is at all a 

 sportsman cannot help being repaid, and the tourist who 

 simply wants to see a new and charming country, easily 

 accessible and where there are no hardships to be en- 

 countered, should take the Okanagan trip. The late 

 summer is the most pleasant for the tourist, and the 

 sportsman should go into the country not later than Sep- 

 tember, and stay two months; he will then get shooting 

 of all kinds. There are a good many bear,- grizzly and 

 black, east of Kelowna on Kettle River and a large num- 

 ber of fine hides were secured through the country this 

 season. To secure moose and elk one would have to go 

 into the States and hunt into Idaho, but about everything 

 else can be found in the way of big game. 



We arrived at Sycamous in the evening, and the next 

 morning took the east-bound train, feeling that we were 



at last homeward bound. Much to our disgust the day 

 proved stormy and clouds hung low. We got into the 

 Selkirks and found that though there was lots of snow 

 it was raining, which at this season was surprising. 

 When we reached Field, where we took supper, we 

 found the air cool and crisp, and the white frost shone 

 and sparkled like diamonds in the bright moonlight, 

 which came down in a silvery flood from over the top of 

 Mount Steven; and now we began what is called by one 

 writer "the stiffest railway climb in the world." We 

 mentioned the drop off going west. The same writer told 

 his experience in climbing up these mountains so well, 

 and as it is about the same experience that we had and in 

 the winter, or at least with the snow all about us, it is 

 worth repeating here: 



"The train was divided into two parts. In front of the 

 first was an 85-ton engine. At the rear of this division a 

 100-tonner was run up; then the rear portion of the train 

 was coupled on to this, and then last of all came an iron 

 monster weighing 110 tons. Not very far short of 1,000 

 tons would be the total dead weight that had to be raised 

 through 1,200ft. before the top of the Kicking Horse was 

 reached. The first part of the climb was easy and the 

 only perceptible difference was to be found in the deep, 

 sonorous chest notes given out by the two giants who had 

 come to our assistance; but about five miles further on 

 the real struggle began. The speed slowed down so that 

 I could get off the car platform and walk along the line 

 over the snow that lay almost close up to the rails. The 

 three iron Titans sobbed and roared and strained at their 

 work till the earth trembled with the stress of their 

 struggle to drive the great train up the break-neck grade 

 that lay in front of it. Every now and then the driving 

 wheels of the lighter engine would slip and the weight 

 would fall on the colossus at the rear, and gallantly did 

 he respond to the call. The beats of his 24in. cylinders 

 throbbed like pulses along the whole train, and from his 

 iron throat he belched forth showers of sparks and clouds 



CARIBOU HEAD WITH THIRD HORN IN CENTER OP FOREHEAD. 



A very old animal. Killed back o£ Kolo-wua, British Columbia. 

 Amateur photo by IT. P. Frlsbie. 



of smoke, with roars of strenuous defiance. Then the 

 other engines would get their grip again, and once more 

 the train would begin to creep upward. 



"Once or twice colossus himself lost his hold. Then 

 the train would stop, and we held our breath waiting for 

 the slight backward gliding motion that would tell that 

 the grade had conquered the engines; then would come a 

 chorus of roars, mingled with deep-voiced sobs, bursting 

 from the laboring breasts of the toiling giants, the pistons 

 would beat passionately in the palpitating cylinders, and 

 the driving wheels would rip and tear round and round 

 until the sparks flew from the rails. At last something 

 would catch; a creaking groan ran along the train and 

 then, with a steady pound, pound! the giants got down to 

 their work again, the cars moved on and steam and steel 

 had gained another victory over the force that sought to 

 drag us back into the valley. 



"I need hardly say that the sight from the bands of the 

 track was absolutely Unique; there, in the midst of wild- 

 ness of black gorges, somber forests, snow and ice and 

 towering peaks, the long, brilliantly lighted train crept 

 slowly upward, like a great gleaming snake, and the three 

 mighty engines, roaring and groaning and throbbing with 

 their work, sent showers of sparks flying up into the 

 darkness. The furnace doors would open and the gloom 

 would be shattered by a long, blinding ray of red light 

 shooting from the fiery heart of the monster far baok 

 over the forest and snow field, glacier and rock peak, until 

 it lost itself in the black sky beyond." 



The summit gained and we descend the Atlantic slope. 

 The moon shines forth from a sky that is only flecked 

 here and there with flying, fleecy clouds that hardly dim 

 her royal luster when they pass acrosB her round and 

 beaming face. The light strikes full upon this side of 

 the range, while on the other things were partly in the 

 shadow. 



The snow and ice-covered peaks stood out with almost 

 startling distinctness in the silvery light, while the canons 

 and ravines below look more dark and forbidding in the 

 shimmering moonbeams. The scene in day light is a beau- 

 tiful one, and one that we would be apt to imagine could 

 not be improved on, but in the mellow light of a full 

 moon from a cloudless sky it becomes enchanting and 

 more like a spirit world where everything seems softened, 

 and while each rock and peak and canon are there they 

 seem less tangible and more othereal. 



As we got down into the valley of the Bow and joined 

 the river as it flows down toward the plains, the still un- 

 frozen, rushing stream glistens and shines, throwing off 



sparkling rays of light from each little wavelet that is 

 formed on the riffles. 



Looking back, the high rugged peaks of the Bourgeau 

 Range stand out like giant specters, white with their un- 

 sullied mantles of the driven snow. The moonbeams 

 strike full upon their snow-crowned heads and add luster 

 to the spotless covering. 



It was 11 o'clock when we pulled into the little rustic 

 station at Banff, but so interesting had been our ride that 

 we did not feel the fatigue of the long day we had put in 

 since we left Sycamous. Only a short visit was made at 

 Banff, and no time lost in taking a few more photographs 

 of views we had missed on our westward way, and then 

 we again start eastward. 



A perfect night, with the full moon but twenty-four 

 hours old and the train on time, was enough good fortune 

 for once and again were we treated to a scene of enchant- 

 ment as we sped down the valley of the Bow. Moonlight 

 on the water is lovely, but in the mountains is grand, and 

 if one has never seen the glories of moonlight amid snow- 

 capped mountain peaks there is a revelation awaiting 

 him. 



The "Three Sisters," looking more lovely in their white 

 mantles under the soft but still bright light of fair Luna, 

 gazed down on us as we sped by, and as we turned back 

 for one more lingering look at the grandeur of the mag- 

 nificent Rockies a deep sigh was breathed to think that 

 for many months, perhaps years, we would not gaze upon 

 their glories again. 



Across the white plains we fly and at midnight stop at 

 Calgary. As we had not visited this very noted town 

 on our way out we determined to put in a day or two 

 there. 



As we stepped from the cars we found the midnight air 

 cool and full of frost, and such a moonlight. Ye gods! 

 can it be true? Yes, there they are, over seventy miles 

 away, but; standing out strong, full and clear, the rugged 

 peaks of the Rockies. 



Calgary boasts of a good hotel in the Alberta, and, 

 moreover, much to my joy, when I came to register, who 

 should pick up the pen after me but an old and esteemed 

 friend from Detroit, who had been on the train with me, 

 but unseen before. Verily, the world is small. 



Calgary is built up on English money, and there are lots 

 of Englishmen round about and in the city. Large num- 

 bers have been tempted from home by the great profits 

 supposed to be made in the cattle business; and many 

 young scions of wealthy families, who were too wild at 

 home, have been sent out into these supposed "wilds" to 

 get rid of them, and they are what are called "remittance 

 men" — that is, they "toil not, neither do they spin," but 

 they live on what they get from home, and generally are 

 either very flush or dead broke. They are a roystering, 

 hard-drinking set, but great sports, and not bad fellows on 

 the whole. We were fortunate to reach the town when a 

 large number of the Blood and Cree Indians were receiv- 

 ing their payments from the Government, and the streets 

 were full of the genuine children of the plains. 



Outside of the city, at their camp, they were holding 

 races and "doing up the pale face" with some of their 

 scrub ponies. "Lo" is no fool in some ways, even if he is 

 childlike in others. A large body of mounted police are 

 quartered at Calgary, and they keep their eyes on Mr. 

 Redskin and see that he does not get any "fire water," if 

 they can help it. The average Indian will sell body, soul 

 and everything else for whisky, and there are the most 

 stringent laws all through this country against selling it 

 to them ; but they get it. 



Winnipeg, which we had left under an almost tropical 

 sun in August, was now covered with a mantle of snow 

 and held fast in the embrace of old Jack Frost. 



This is where the cold waves we read of are born. At 

 least "Old Prob" generally says "a blizzard is on its way 

 from Manitoba;" but we did not stop long to investigate. 

 It was cold, to be sure, but a fine, dry, bracing cold, that 

 did not penetrate one like our damp lake climate. At 

 Fort William we did not take the steamer, but continued 

 on along the north shore by train. Lake Superior looked 

 cold and uninviting as the foam-crested waves beat upon 

 the rock-bound coast, and we feel that it is better to be 

 looking down upon this wide waste of water from our 

 Bnug and warm sleeper than it would be to be tossing on 

 the steamer. 



The scenery is of the wildest and most rugged descrip- 

 tion. As the train ran along the lake through the wilder- 

 ness, one could not help wondering how the road was 

 ever built through such a desolate country, and yet there 

 is a fascination about the scenery of the north_ shore of 

 Lake Superior. 



Its wildness and its desolate character seem to lend 

 a charm that is unexplainable. The great lake is followed 

 in all its curves and indentations, and miles at times are 

 traversed around some cove or bay to accomplish a short 

 distance in a straight line. At Jack Fish Bay the line 

 takes a sweep of six miles to make one. Great rock cuts 

 are passed through and the expense of building the road 

 was immense. We catch views of Black and Thunder 

 bays and run along the Nepigon Bay, into which the far- 

 famed Nepigon River empties. All day and night we 

 travel through the wilderness and the next morning 

 breakfast at North Bay on Lake Nippising, which is a 

 body of water forty miles long and ten miles wide. This 

 is a "great summer resort and also a great point for sports- 

 men in the fall. 



We were just in time to see the end of the deer hunt- 

 ing season, and parties were taking the train at every 

 station with a fine show of deer. At one place I counted 

 over twenty, all of the white-tail variety or Virginia 

 deer. From North Bay we strike south, leaving the main 

 line, and pass through the great Muskoka country, the 

 greatest summer outing region in Ontario, and a grand 

 place it is if one cannot spare time to go far. As we near 

 lake Simcoe, the country changes and becomes more 

 settled — fine farms are seen and now we approach civili- 

 zation and Toronto. A night and part of a day here and 

 then home. 



In conclusion let me say that it has been my personal 

 intention to give to our brother sportsmen and tourists 

 information in regard to a section of the West that is 

 comparatively new rather than to write a detailed ac- 

 count of how each deer was secured; and as our trip was 

 more of a tour for pleasure of all kinds than a hunting 

 trip alone, it is hoped that the ordinary tourist will gain 

 some pleasure and profit from its perusal, as well as the 

 sportsman who only cares for the information in regard 

 to game. 



I would also state that the editor has my address, and. 



