Feb. 1^, 1891. J 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



ignorance. They have strange things to tell, and the 

 beauty of it all is that they expect you will believe them 

 and do not thint it necessary to prop up their own state- 

 ment with the affidavits of Dick and Ilarry. I do not 

 know whether hunters tell these things to every one, or 

 whether, like the Ancient Mariner, "the moment that bis 

 face I see I know the man that must hear me." Certainly 

 the good hunter tells strange tales, but as Robin Hood 

 said of Little John, "I have ever found him a very 

 truthful man." 



Tnese were our usual evenings, but at Third Lake Dam 

 there was a change in the order. We could not see the 

 fire for the wind blew so hard that we had to keep the 

 front of the tent tied in. Forced to depend on a candle 

 for our light and cheer, and to listen to the beat of the 

 rain on the canvas, which soothed us to sleep all too 

 readily, we substituted reading aloud for conversation. 

 As a means of keeping awake I do not think it was a 

 great success. My conscience is clear, for I was the 

 reader: but my audience were apt to seem suspiciously 

 quiet until the reading ceased, when they suddenly 

 became very much interested in the subject, but not 



Juite sure what it was. They are acquitted, however, 

 t was an odd sight. The tent was not pitched quite 

 straight so that there was a gap between the ground and 

 the foot of it, which had to be filled in with the baker, 

 our box (which we had found, as usual) and other 

 articles; one tiny candle tied to a stick stuck into the 

 earth shone no brighter than a. good deed in a naughty 

 world, and flickered in the draught; the family were 

 wrapped in the blankets; I reclined on one elbow and in 

 the uitervals of streaking the tent when it rained through 

 read, in a voice yet husky with a cold, "The Uncle of 

 an Angel"' and "What Some People Call Pleasure." 

 Could the genial author of the latter paper have imagined 

 circumstances better contrived to make us appreciate 

 the point of his tale — three people rainbound, with noth- 

 ing to eat but two or three messes of flour, a few potatoes, 

 a little stew for breakfast and an old turtle tethered in 

 fi'ont of the fire ready to be "next", whenever the word 

 should go forth, and no prospect of its ever clearing off? 

 We called it pleasure, and the proof is that we never re- 

 gretted not killing that deer and leaving half of it to spoil. 



In the morning when we rose the sun rose also, wel- 

 come sight. Old Turk had evidently lost his courage, for 

 instead of his nightly escape he had buried himself in 

 the earth with only the top of his shell out. When we 

 roused him he put up his head with a mild, patient air, 

 as if resigned to his fate. I was impressed that it was 

 the same look which a captive missionary would cast on 

 his cannibal captors and (without any disrespect to that 

 gentleman in comparing him to a mud turtle) for much 

 the same reason — not fi'om grace but because he couldn't 

 help himself. It was Friday — nothing on hand but a lit- 

 tle flour and the turtle to whom we had become some- 

 what attached. To go down stream would take two days 

 of pleasant weather. Then came Sunday, we could not 

 gpt back to Fourth Lake until Monday if we had all good 

 weather. We turned Turk adrift, and such was the affec- 

 tion that he showed for us that he came directly ashore 

 again; the second time he was thrown in he went down 

 stream, but our bows were turned in the opposite 

 direction. Fannie Peaeson Hardy. 



THROUGH THE OLYMPICS ON AN ELK 

 TRAlL.-llL 



NEXT day we took an early start and made for the 

 peak. The Cayuse's knee, which had held out so 

 bravely through yesterday's march, was now too lame for 

 use, so he stayed in camp and cooked. We decided to hunt 

 on this mountain for a day or two, and as soon as the 

 knee was well enough to travel safely, to go home. 



Joe, Chris and Yick hunted together, the Marine and I 

 left them at the peak. On the western side we could see 

 range after range of mountains, with green pastures on 

 their slopes, and occasionally snow on their peaks; but 

 there was no long stretch of level land in view. Directly 

 below us on the western side was a huge snowbank, and 

 another lower down the peak. Below that, apparently 

 at the bottoui, a patch of woods, which sloped a little on 

 either side into valleys where the Quinaiult had its rise. 

 The Marine and I, attracted by the snow and the proba- 

 bility of elk near it, went down on that side with as little 

 precipitation as possible, over the treacherous soil, sharp 

 rocks and frozen snow, into the most northerly of the two 

 valleys, and crossed the patch of woodland, which proved 

 when we reached it to be the top of a very high hill, but 

 which from our point of view above it had looked almost 

 level with the valleys. We went up through the second 

 meadow and ascended the sloj)e. Elk tracks were fre- 

 quent in the mud and soft turf, and in many places the 

 brush had been stripped of its foliage, which showed that 

 a considerable band of elk had been grazing there. 



In half an hour we reached the top of the slope and 

 looked over. There on a broad green shelf some Toyds. 

 below were six great beasts. One of them was a huge 

 bull with as high and wide a pair or antlers as I ever 

 saw. We stood trembling with excitement. "How shall 

 we ever pack those antlers down the Skokomish?"' said 

 the Marine. 



Then we both remembered our rifle?, and aimed to- 

 gether at the bull. At that instant he seemed to get wind 

 of us and tossed his splendid head with a sniff". Our 

 rifles cracked. He leaped high in air, fell and disap- 

 peared. The rest of the herd tore along the hillside and 

 were lost in the woods. 



We hurried to tlie spot where they had stood, and look- 

 ing over the shelf saw several hundred feet of sheer preci- 

 pice ending in a narrow ledge. There lay the bull elk. 

 The Marine's difficulty about the antlers was settled. 

 They were broken to pieces, and the place was quite in- 

 accessible. We were not only disappointed, but couldn't 

 help feeling ashamed of the death of such a magnificent 

 creature. We had needed the elk for food; but now that 

 he was lost we gained nothing; it seemed like wanton de- 

 struction. 



Tfie Marine said afterward that he felt like a robber 

 with just the least vestige of a conscience, who had killed 

 a man and then found nothing in his pockets, when he 

 expected at least a watch. At the time we said nothing, 

 but after trying every possible way to get at our victim, 

 had to give it up and turn back. We found nothing more 

 that day. 



A Scotch mist came up and turned to a cold drizzling 

 r&iH; and we had none too much time to find our way 

 Ijftck to camp, The mountain down which we had qome 



was shrouded now in dark clouds, and looked sullen and 

 threatening, and the woods roared with the increasing 

 storm. The dry bed of a mountain stream seemed to 

 offpr an easy ascent. We knew that it led up toward the 

 nearest snowbank, for we had seen it from a distance as 

 we came down. The beds of mountain streams are rather 

 risky, because of loose stones; but we had no choice and 

 determined to go up this one as long as it gave a foothold, 

 and turn off to one side and go up where the woods offered 

 a better chance of climbing. The footing proved good, 

 and for some way we had a perfect flight of stairs. It 

 passed between banks which grew higher and steeper as 

 we went on. At last the stones began to grow looser and 

 the ascent harder, and finally we came to a wall of rock 

 about forty feet high. Turning to go round it by climb- 

 ing the sides of the ravine, we found that they were of a 

 loose, sandy soil, and that we could not climb them, the 

 sand giving us no foothold. 



It was too late to go back and our only way was to 

 climb that wall, which we did. Although it was, as I 

 said, only about 40ft. high it took us at least half an 

 hour to scale it. Our only footing was on little jutting 

 points of rock an inch or two in breadth— sometimes 

 less — just enough for one to put the edge of his sole on, 

 or hold on by with the edge of his fingers. With one 

 foot resting on such a support one of us would feel with 

 bis hands of all the points witbin reach, then finding the 

 safest he would lean flat against the wall, holding on 

 with one hand, while with the other he took both the 

 rifles; then the other one would climb a little ahead of 

 him and take the rifles in turn, and so on. Above the 

 middle the rock showed a tendency to crumble, and 

 several large pieces came out like loose teeth and went 

 rattling away down the ravine. Fortunately we had no 

 time to wonder how many pieces a fellow would be in be- 

 fore he reached the bottom; and when we came over the 

 edge, at last, we scrambled away up through the woods 

 and over the snow, till we got a firm footing on the 

 peak, and saw far below on the other side the smoke of 

 our camp rising from the woods. 



We went into camp pretty well exhausted. It was 

 dark now and the others had almost ceased to expect us 

 for that night. 



They sat glumly about the red fire and said very little. 

 They had a surprise for us. When we had hungered a 

 little longer Joe rose and took a great piece of meat from 

 under his coat. He said it was elk. It was really bear, 

 but the Marine and I had only one thought, it was meat! 

 and we treated it accordingly. 



It was better than venison. A young bear about two 

 years old living on the cold peaks, fat and fed on berries, 

 is a very different article from a tough old customer who 

 lives on fish by the salt water. The bears on the sound 

 are too oily for food— but in the mountains they are prime. 



For one more day we lived on that bear and hunted, 

 having moved our camp to the place where he was killed 

 (by Joe). The Cayuse still stayed in camp with his knee 

 and loaned his rifle to Chris, who had brought none with 

 him. While he was there alone a cinnamon bear (very 

 rare in the Oiympics) came and looked at him. This was 

 too much for the patience of our friend, who threw a 

 stone at the beast and hit him. The bear x'an toward the 

 Cayuse, who jumped behind the fire — and the bear turned 

 with a sort of grunt and made off into the woods. 



None of the rest of us saw any game, though the tracks 

 showed that a great band of elk had been there recently, 

 and for a long time before — and in one place, where the 

 trees were wide apart and there was no underbrush, the 

 beaten trail, which is generally only wide enough for a 

 bridle path, was a road on which two carriages might 

 have passed each other. We went back toward evening 

 to find the Cayuse in a state of intense disgust at not 

 having been able to shoot his bear. A cinnamon in the 

 Olympics is as great a prize as a grizzly in the Rockies, 

 There are no grizzly bears in the Olympics — at least none 

 have ever been seen there. The black bears are very 

 timid, and I have heard of two instances of females run- 

 ning away and leaving their cubs to the hunter. 



The beauty of that night I shall never forget. We lay 

 in the open, above us a sharp rocky peak, from which a 

 long green meadow— the track of some former land- 

 slide — sloped steeply down toward us on the left, below 

 and beyond it woods and a deep gorge that hid a. singing 

 stream. On the heathery shelf of meadow where we lay 

 were two clear pools, and on the right the dark sea of 

 forest which stretched away to the foot of the mountain. 

 Right opposite stood the main range that we left two days 

 before, and far below rushed the Quinaiult, louder than 

 ever in the still night. 



The sun set, and the camp-fire died away. Then on the 

 peak above us came a soft gleam, and crept, slowly widen- 

 ing, down the landslide, and shone on the pools of water 

 and touched our camp, then the moon rose over the op- 

 posite range and bathed the whole mountain side in glory. 

 Later in the night I awake to find the bushes and the 

 heather sparkling with hoar-frost, and I rose and poked 

 the fire and piled on wood till it blazed and crackled 

 merrily and made the shadows of the great trees dance 

 on the hillside. But beauty is not everything, and next 

 morning when we found the frost thick on our boots, it 

 failed to elicit even a murmur of admiration. 



We thawed them out and made a start for home. We 

 had seen what the unexplored heart of the Olympics was 

 like. Vick and the Marine, being on the peak when it 

 was clear, the day before had seen the Pacific, across the 

 multitude of mountains. And now we were out of food 

 very nearly, and the Cayuse's knee was well enough to 

 travel. Again we forded the Quinaiult and went up the 

 place that two days before had seemed impossible to 

 come down. For just as it is easier to fall down than up, 

 so it is easier to climb up than down. Chiis, being in 

 high spirits and disposed to gayety — which generally ex- 

 hibited itself in his case by tremendous and uncalled for 

 exertion— climbed right up the rocky bed of a stream 

 which dashed over us. as the Cayuse and I followed him, 

 in foaming cascades. With us came the dog, whose feet 

 were by this time sore with the rocks; and we lifted him 

 up from shelf to shelf. The others avoided the ravine and 

 went up through, the woods. Their way was even harder 

 than om-s, though safer perhaps. 



We climbed for a few hours, and about noon made the 

 place whence we had first looked down on the Quinaiult. 

 Then we went down into the valley where we had en- 

 camped before crossing the divide, and stayed there that 

 night, dining on what was left of the deer, which we had 

 not taken rnHii us, and on eoup made of the last relics of 

 the bear, 



Then going down the north branch of the west fork of 

 the Skokomish, we marched in the stream, through 

 canon and gorge, down cascades and foaming rapids. 

 Once more we encamped, this time in the lowland, and 

 next afternoon about three o'clock, came to the Marine's, 

 where we reveled in a bath, a change of raiment and im- 

 mense quantities of supper. 



I hope this gives the reader a clear idea of what the in- 

 terior of the Olympic system is like. It has been stated 

 in one or two articles that there is a broad lowland shut 

 in by the outer ranges, but there is none. It has also 

 been affirmed that the waters which flow from the inner 

 slopes must either be pent up within or have an under- 

 ground outlet, but this is not so; the source of the Quin- 

 aiult is within less than a mile of the head waters of the 

 Skokomish, and drains the whole interior of the Olympic 

 system. There is just a confusion of sharj) peaks aind 

 jagged broken ranges of mountains, shaggy on the lower 

 and middle slopes with primeval forest, crowned with 

 eternal snow and holding high on their breasts valleys and 

 fertile pastures, where deer and elk may graze in peace, 

 and bright lakelets of clear green water. There are rocky 

 caverns and deep chasms, and on the sides of the motm- 

 tains and at their feet wind a.nd leap countless brooks that 

 fill the air with music. 



After a thorough rest at the Marine's, we parted. I 

 stayed near Lake Cushman to study the settler in his 

 native, or rather his adopted, wilds. 



The woodsmen there live on theh claims and hunt m 

 summer, and in winter work in the logging camps, and 

 the hard work and active life, and the combined sea 

 and mountain air, sweet with the scent of cedar and bal- 

 sam, give them great physical development in almost 

 every case. The Marine told me that when he first came 

 to that part of the country he was rather in awe of the 

 inhabitants because of their remarkable size and strength. 

 But there was one man whom he was quite sure he could, 

 if necessary, vanquish — the weakest of his neighbors — and 

 so my friend decided that if he ever had any difficulty 

 with any of the inhabitants it should be with this one. 

 One day he went out with the man to get firewood, and 

 the settler picked up a piece of wood that in tlae East 

 would have been a tree of respectable size, and walked- 

 off with it over his shoulder as easily, to all appearances, 

 as if it had been a bamboo pole. The Marine is a strong 

 man, and at college was mighty on the football field and 

 strong in the tug of war. But he had to content himself 

 with a log about half the size. "What makes you carfy 

 such a stick as that?" said he to the settler. ' 'You'll strain 

 yom-self." "Waal," said the settler, "it's jest sheer lazi- 

 ness makes me carry them things. I'd ort'er hitched the 

 ponies to it, that's what I had, and let 'em drawed it; but I 



was too indolent to harness 'em — jest sheer laziness, 



that's what." The Marine marveled. If this was the 

 result of indolence, what might not industry accomplish? 

 And he resolved not to differ with his neighbor on any 

 subject if it might conscientiously be avoided. 



The Cayuse spent the winter on the Skokomish reser- 

 vation and last summer acted as scout to the U. S. A. ex- 

 ploring expedition under Lieut. O'Neil in the Olympics. 

 During the winter the reservation doctor fell sick. Now, 

 the Cayuse was the only other white man on the reserva- 

 tion at the time, and he is, moreover, an excellent nurse, 

 so he went to take care of the physician, who recovered 

 in about two weeks. During tliis time the unhappy 

 Cayuse had been trying his best to sleep on a hard little 

 sofa and was very much exhausted. The doctor opened 

 the sofa and displayed to the Cayuse's regretful gaze a 

 most comfortable folding bed within that he might 

 have used. "Of all sad words," etc. 



In the camp in the valley at the 'head of the north 

 branch of the west fork of the Skokomish, I left abowie 

 knife. If the reader, passing that way, happens to pick 

 it up he will confer a lasting obligation by returning the 

 same to Francis Dana. 



COONS CATCH RABBITS. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



I made a discovery yesterday. It interested me very 

 much, and as I am sure it is not generally known am 

 confident it will be of interest to such of your readers as 

 hunt coons. About a week ago we had our first heavy 

 snow, and last Friday it rained hard all day, and at 

 night it was warm and foggy, so, knowing the coons 

 would come out that night and make tracks, I concluded 

 to drive over to some good coon grounds and look around 

 by day. 



The coons had been out, and so had the rabbits. I 

 noticed two different rabbit tracks that had coon tracks 

 along with them, followed the second and found where 

 the rabbit had run into a hole, and the coon had left. 

 A third track made by both rabbit and coon was fol- 

 lowed at least a half mile; it led through a swamp, 

 through a stone wall, across a brook and through an 

 apple orchard, finally through briers and hazelnut 

 bushes. There he "holed." This rabbit was followed by 

 the coon by scent or by seeing the tracks in the snow, 

 and not by sight, for at least three times the trail ended, 

 turned back for perhaps twenty feet in same track, then 

 off in another direction. Although it was daytime and 

 the tracks quite plain it troubled me not a Jittle to 

 straighten it out in the thick bushes and briers. Had the 

 coon been chasing the rabbit by sight he would have been 

 too near for the rabbit to have "doubled" on his track. 

 Soon I came to another one of these tracks, and by follow- 

 ing it found where the coon had caught a rabbit under a 

 fallen limb, where the rabbit must liaA'e stopped from 

 fright; certainly the coon did not steal upon him, as 

 could be seen by the length of the jumps. The rabbit 

 was carried to some water near by and eaten, I should 

 Uke to know if any one else has noticed anything like 

 this. 



I saw six tracks in traveling about four miles, where 

 coons were following rabbits, but only one was success- 

 ful. These tracks were all made in one night, as the next 

 day it came off cold and has been so ever since. 



CAMBRroGE, Maes., Jan. 23. JAS. Gr, LaTHROP. 



Maine Winter Birds,— Portland, Feb. 7.— We have 

 had a large flight of snowy owls, but other winter birds, 

 such aa enow bttntinge ana grosbeaks, have been email. 



