484 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



LJUN« SS, 1891, 



TEGE YAIKWAY. 



The Utes ot the Colorado Valley speak of the close of the day as 

 tege, yailmay, literally interpreted, the death of the sub. 



LOW hung the sun over the southern "Wahsatch moun- 

 tains. Far to the east stretched soft shadows over 

 the great, gray, sleeping desert, that is rudely cut in 

 twain by the turbulent Colorado. Across the gray were 

 green ribbons, where sinuous streams wandered leisurely 

 from snowy caflons to the Escalante. Sometimes the 

 silvery willows were hemmed in by the deeper verde of 

 lucerne fields, where the succulent clover was purpling 

 with the first promise of bloom, and sometimes by the 

 golden green of young wheat. There were little settle- 

 ments over wliich hung the haze of the evening smoke. 

 There were garden spots and orchards, pink and white 

 in their wealth of fragrant loveliness. For, in part, the 

 waste had been redeemed and the hand of man had 

 brought beauty from ashes. No longer did the gentle 

 winds, that ever thrilled with the warmth and life of the 

 far distant Pacific, linger around the brown tepees of the 

 Utes; no longer did they brash the crimson petals from 

 the cactus; no longer did they carry northward the odor 

 of the sage; no longer did they caress the dun deer and 

 the fleet-footed antelope. For the face of nature was 

 changed and her children had not where to hide them- 

 selves. 



Jutting out from the main range, so far that it seemed 

 almost an isolated giant, stood Kaiparowitz— monarch 

 among the ancient hills. White were his locks, but 

 black the rugged furrows of his brow and face; for man, 

 the civilizer, had no reverence for kingly grandeur, 

 knew no beauty, saving that which bore the imprint 

 of a human mart or mint. When the winds of autumn 

 moaned among the sapless boughs, shook down the pine 

 nuts, and set the withered leaves a dancing, fierce fires 

 had flamed among the trembling aspens and gnarled 

 cedars, and the mantle of verdure had been changed to a 

 pall. When the warmth of February brought forth the 

 tender grass to veil the unsightly scars, the flocks and 

 herds grazed for a few short days, grazed till the desola- 

 tion was, if possible, more dreary than before; grazed, 

 then passed up, to pick, ere they could bloom, the buds 

 that peered above the melting snows. 



Low hung the sun. Awful in his loveliness, piteous 

 in his marred features, sat Kaiparowitz upon his throne. 

 His voice was deep and solemn. It was as the echo of 

 the thunder peed among the mountain tops; as the clash 

 of the avalanche among the caiions, and the sound swept 

 down upon the plain as the far-off roar of an angry lion. 

 The men at work in their fields heard it, but they under- 

 stood not. Looking mountain ward they said: 



"If it rains to-night there will be another week's feed 

 for the sheep." 



«■**«■* 



High up on the slope of Kaiparowitz was a small caflon. 

 It had been untouched by fire and so difficult was it of 

 access that herders passed it by. Here fell the rays of 

 the setting sun. Beside the spring that bubbled from 

 the moss-grown stones were violets and spreading phlox 

 and mimulus. Further removed, beneath the lordly pines, 

 the mountain heather and the columbine swung their 

 half-opened chalices. Now and again the silvery strain 

 of the thrush rang out upon the evening air. Then it 

 was hushed, as though the timid bird feared lest it should 

 call the attention of man to the sacred spot. From the 

 lower hills came the discordant clang of sheep bells. The 

 thrush heard. Out of the foliage she came, up into the 

 blue she sailed, but she saw no other refuge where she 

 might rest her weary wing and, sad of heart and silent, 

 she came back to the shelter of the aspen. 



Near the spring, wrapped in a tattered blanket, crouched 

 a human form. From the low-branched rose bushes the 

 grouse peered at it, their liquid eyes looking astonish- 

 ment but not fear. About it sported the white-tailed 

 hare and to it the red squirrel chattered, but it heard not, 

 neither did it see. Even the deer, coming down to water, 

 turned not from it. Why should they? Did they not re- 

 cognize a certain kinship in the motionless clay? Did 

 they not feel that for some men comes an end like to the 

 end of lower species in the great catalogue of animate 

 creation? 



Yes, the form had been a man, and the flickering 

 spark that was about to pass into the dark mid -world still 

 kept it man. From the muffled head came a feeble, 

 sepulchral moan: 



"Tegenerriwa; sJiepkai,'^ (I starve; I freeze.) 



Often had Agawitz, leader of the Utes, lain on the 

 frozen ground, faint with hunger, and not a word of com- 

 plaint had passed his lips. As a warrior he had lived. 

 More than half a century had gone since he had led his 

 painted band across the foaming river and returned with 

 the plume of the eagle on his crest and the scalps of many 

 Navajo braves in his belt. He had led his followers north- 

 ward to drive the white invaders from the hunting grounds 

 of Santaquin. From the very peak above him he had 

 traced the course of the first immigrants to southeastern 

 Utah, and behind the hill, kissed by the setting sun, he 

 had left the log cabins of the Danish settlers without a 

 living occupant to tell the story of the dreadful massacre. 

 He was an old man then; yet, since that day many snows 

 had come and gone, and he lived on, homeless, alone; but 

 now the end had come. 



Perchance, as he shut the landscape from his glazing 

 eye, he lived again his passionate youth. Perchance, in 

 that last awful hour, he saw something of the future and 

 could tell why he had been left, the withered tree in the 

 clearing; why, when tribe and friends were gone, he had 

 begged his daily bread from door to door; why, with the 

 instinct of his race, he had come here alone to enter into 

 the mystery of mysteries. Perhaps he realized something 

 of a wondrous plan, that leads higher and higher, until 

 mankind are one in spirit and a common brotherhood 

 works out its ultimate destiny in peace, goodwill and 

 boundless love. 



» * * * •» 



Agawitz shivered. Then he was consumed with mad- 

 •dening thirst. The blanket dropped from the feeble 

 form and the cold wind scattered the few gray locks that 

 once had been a crown of glory. Gone was the war 

 plume; gone the belt, decked with the quills of porcu- 

 pines, stained with the blood of many battles; gone the 

 jasper-headed arrows; gone the fire of youth; gone the 



strength of manhood. He tried to rise. He could only 

 crawl toward the water. Before him there was some- 

 thing white. He looked it over. It was a mountain 

 sheep. Many a time had he hunted the beautiful creat- 

 ures among the snowy cliffs of Kaiparowitz, but the rifle 

 of the invader had slain them one by one, and the herds 

 of the invader had robbed them of their native pastures, 

 until this, the last, had sought a quiet spot to lay him 

 down and die. In the mire he had fallen, and one of his 

 great horns was imbedded in the mud, while the other, 

 gnarled and shattered, was clutched by Agawitz in a 

 final effort to drag himself nearer to the stream. 



A ray of warmth penetrated the gloom of early even- 

 ing. The old Indian raised his head. Behind the Wahsatch 

 the sun was sinking to rest and the shadow covered the 

 valley. 



"Tege yaikway," he murmured, and there came a mist 

 before his eyes. The trembling limbs refused to move. 

 There was a gasp, a quiver, and the tired head found its 

 last pillow on the white hair of the mountain patriarch, 



***** 



Down to the spring came a doe to drink. Her step was 

 slow, for her new-born fawn was close by and she was 

 wary, >She raised her nostrils. Perhaps even now she 

 was seen by one of those monsters that spoke with the 

 voice of many thunders and whose stroke was as that of 

 the lightning among the pines. No, this lovely spot had 

 not been discovered by civilized man. She bent her 

 head. From the brush came the crack of a rifle and the 

 echoes were lost in the mutterings of the approaching 

 storm. Her four limbs straightened. One bound and 

 she lay dead, while the bullet sped on and there were 

 brown feathers beneath an aspen tree and a crimson spot 

 on the silvery branch where the thrush had sung her last 

 song. 



From the cover of a bullberry thicket stepped a herder. 

 His gun was on his shoulder and he whistled a merry 

 tune. Giving the dead Indian a kick, he proceeded to 

 bleed the deer, saying as he did so: 



"Pretty poor condition, but then it's out of season. 

 Beats mutton for a change, anyhow. If it warn't for 

 them irrigating ditches I'd have a mess of trout instead of 

 a deer, but they aint run up much in the last few years." 



Then he cut off the hindquarters, yet warm and throb- 

 bing, put them in a sack and strode down to his camp, 

 leaving the fawn to starve, or, in mercy to itself, to fall 

 a prey to some wandering lion, if one yet remained amid 

 the universal destruction. 



Tege yaikway! Great drops, the tears of mother Na- 

 ture, fell upon the upturned leaves, and black-robed Night 

 drew her kindly veil over, the desolate furrow on the 

 brow of old Kaiparowitz, Shoshone, 



EsoAicANTE, Utah, May 17. 



ON THE NORTH SHORE -VIII. 



[Continued from Page 456.] 



AS we expected from the gloomy indications of the 

 night, the morning opened with rain, accompanied 

 with constant thunder and lightning. We, however, 

 succeeded in catching two trout after breakfast from our 

 camping rock, and then reeled up to await more propi- 

 tious weather. Joe took one of our rods, and accompan- 

 ied by John with the landing net, went along the shore 

 and tried rock fishing. They returned in about an hour 

 with one good-sized trout. Joe stated that he had two 

 on at once, and if he had been in the boat would have 

 doubtless saved both of them. The boys after their re- 

 turn went into their tent, closed it and slept till 1 o'clock. 

 We did not think it necessary to wake them, having con- 

 cluded to let them sleep till their pangs of hunger called 

 for some relief. Joe, when he opened the tent, was 

 astonished to find it so late. It made little difference to 

 us, as we had been profitably employed during their 

 slumbers. Ned, who had been toying with his little 

 bags of tackle that morning, lost his knife, and also 

 found sand in his Frankfort multiplier, a very poor place 

 indeed to keep such a gritty article. He, however, was 

 fortunate in recovering his knife a few hours after and 

 was in ecstacies when he had the reel relieved of its 

 sand, for anything that would give him an opportunity 

 of handling any article of his impedimenta was his fount 

 of joy. Ah, Ned, you are an incomparable genius, and if 

 you had only lived in the days of the "Master of the 

 Angle" you would have come down to us in history as 

 eminent a celebrity as Dame Juliana Berners, or even 

 the "Great Master" himself. 



It rained nearly the entire day, with an occasional ces- 

 sation, which gave us an opportunity to do a little fishing 

 from the rock, and which resulted in the total of two 

 trout, one having fallen a sacrifice to Ned's rod and the 

 other to mine. 



We indulged in our usual pleasures of cards and read- 

 ing during the rain, but our greatest delight was sitting 

 in the apex of the huge boulder when there was a cessa- 

 tion of rain and watching the storm clouds as they mar- 

 shalled their battalions and coursed along under the blue 

 vault. The Sogards and adjoining islands were clearly 

 defined in their lines of tender green, Gargantua and the 

 mountains had taken on a purple hue, while between 

 them and Leech Island the Hghtning continually flashed 

 in dazzling splendor. New and grand beauties in cloud- 

 life were constantly arising, while the dai-kened waters, 

 wild in their rage, battled against the iron-clad coast with 

 a violent fury that sent columns of heavy spray into the 

 foliage that fringed the lake. Anon the thunder would 

 growl; a sharp crackle of lightning salute you; a manifest 

 increase in the high wind be felt, and then came down 

 the rain that sent us hurriedly to cover. And so the day 

 wore along into a night of livid flame, roaring thunder, 

 battling waves and beating rain, that would shake the 

 nerve and appal the soul of the most resolute. Ned after 

 he had wrapped himself in blanket, cried out in unison 

 with the unfortunate Lear: 



"Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! rage! 

 YoTir cataracts and hurricanes spout 

 Till you have drenched our steeples." 



The morning was one of gray gloom, with a cold north 

 wind, and a lake displaying a heavy swell, the efl'ects of 

 the tempestuous night. We were not overjoyed with 

 the prospects, but determined as soon as we had partaken 

 of breakfast, to venture forth for the trout. Joe was 

 quite tardy that morning, as he did not fancy pulling the 

 boat in the teeth of a head wind. As soon, however, as 

 he was through with his work, we gave the word for the 

 departure, and into the boat we got, and along the 



rocky coast coursed, casting our flies as we progressed. 

 As soon as some convenient rocks were reached on which 

 we could stand and cast, we all went ashore except John, 

 who was left in charge of the boat. 



Ned had great advantage over me on the rocks by 

 wearing rubbers, while I had nothing but my heavy- 

 soled boots, with which to clamber and walk over the 

 smooth blocks of granite. I, however, with due caution, 

 managed to get along without a slide into the cold waters 

 of the lake. Ned, owing to his equipment, could run 

 over the rocks like a monkey, and reach desirable posi- 

 tions that were not available to me with my heavy boots. 

 Several times when I saw a very inviting place that could 

 only be reached in stocking feet, off would go my boots, 

 and down I would crawl. It was a little inconvenient, 

 but the enthusiasm which takes possession of one in these 

 pursuits will tempt to almost any hazard. Ned was very 

 lucky that morning and caught about two fish to my one. 

 He took out of one place without moving four magnificent 

 trout that ran from 3 to 41bs. I saw one leap a foot out 

 of the water for his fly, and also observed him frantically 

 plunge out after he got the hook in his quivering jaws, 

 Ned was in high feather over the number of the hand- 

 some trophies he had captured, and would have remained 

 and camped out all night if I had not insisted on a ipru- 

 dential return. The wind had changed and was rapidly 

 increasing every minute, and was also dead ahead. Joe, 

 who was also eager for the necessary return, says to Ned: 



"If you no go now, you not go at all." 



"Bah! We can walk back," replies Ned. 



"What you do with the boat?" 



"Pull her up on the rocks," 



"Then s®me Indian steal it." 



"Oh, no; Indian always honest." 



"May be so, may be not." 



"If you're afraid of the thieving Indian, back it is," 

 And then Ned winked at me at the honest satire he had 

 heaped upon poor Lo! We hurriedly got into the boat 

 and the boys pulled away at the oars quite vigorously. 

 It was only two miles to camp, but it was against very 

 heavy wind that was growing stronger all the while. 

 We had caught ten of the spangled warriors and were 

 fully satisfied with the two hours' angle. 



The sky was now displaying a disuial hue of slate- 

 colored vapor, Avliile an iron-gray freckled sea was rolling 

 hollow and confusedly, evidence enough to satisfy us 

 that the remainder of the day would be spent in camp, if 

 not in our tents. The boys were glad and somewhat 

 fatigued when they reached Jacksen's Cove, for it was an 

 hour's hard pull over a sea anything but gentle. 



In the afternoon we tried the ragged edges of our huge 

 boulder in front of the camp, but the waves were too 

 frightfully wicked for S. fontinalis to be on the qui vive 

 for flies of bright tinsel and feathers gay. 



When I returned to camp I found Ned changing his 

 clothes, he having accidentally slipped into the lake from 

 the boulder. Fortunately for him, a huge rock in the 

 water close by checked his rapid progress, or else he 

 would have been completely immersed. As it was, he 

 escaped with a light baptism. 



The half-breeds that afternoon gave a concert with 

 then* violin, much to the annoyance of Ned. I saw .Joe 

 in his tent sitting on the ground, with bis back against a 

 box of provisions, fervently sawing away with bis bow, 

 while his dreamy eyes were turned heavenward as if in- 

 voking inspiration from the patron saint of the lyre. I 

 called Ned's attention to the j)icture presented, and so 

 convulsed was he with the sight that he laughed till his 

 sides ached. In addition to Joe's musical accomplish- 

 ment is to be added that of the terpsichorean art. When 

 he was not fiddling or otherwise employed, he was prac- 

 ticing his pedals in graceful (?) curvatures, endeavoring 

 CO imitate Ned, who on one occasion rattled off an Irish 

 jig that completely captivated the boys as well as myself. 

 That evening after supper, Joe and John went to the crest 

 of the boulder, and there, under a gray sky and to the 

 music of the waves, Joe danced till dark. 



Ned was up quite early the next morning, and intently 

 scanned the horizon with a view of making the "proba- 

 bilities" for the day. On asking for the rebult, he stated, 

 in university phraseology that I never gave him credit of 

 possessing, "There is a blue sky, with drifting mother of 

 pearl clouds, a gentle west wind, a lake in silver-tinted 

 ripples, mountains gleaming in gold, and an atmosphere 

 ad gustem." 



With such a glorious condition of the elements, I was 

 prompted to arise that I might also enjoy a morn so 

 richly clothed in splendor. The sad thought that Lake 

 Superior was such a capricious coquette intruded. So 

 often have I seen an auspiciotis morn turned into a tempest 

 in a few short hours that I have lost entire confidence in 

 her bright promises. We, however, determined to enjoy 

 the golden weather while it lasted, and immediately after 

 breakfast started with boat up the shore, in hopes of 

 capturing a few foolish trout through mere "trickish 

 knavery." We coasted along an exceedingly rocky and 

 irregular shore, that looked the very abiding place of the 

 scarlet-hued dudes. Reaching a range of high rocks, that 

 gave us fine facilities for shore fishing, we landed and 

 commenced the work of decoying. It was not long before 

 I had a rise, and a pound trout as the result. My lips 

 curled in contempt at the insignificant size of my first 

 victim, for it was the stalwart warriors and a royal 

 battle I sought. I left this bed of nurselings and sought 

 other grounds, in hopes of getting a finny foeman that 

 would tax my skill to the utmost. I soon reached a very 

 inviting place, a debris of shattered rocks with numerous 

 lines of dark water, that I would have wagered a kingdom 

 contained a freckled Naiad or two. Securing a good foot 

 hold on the flinty rock I had reached, I sent my flies sail- 

 ing on a mission of duplicity. I saw them fall lightly in 

 the desired spot, and a savage swirl broke around my 

 stretcher. I responded quickly, and was sadly disap- 

 pointed at my failure to connect with the inquisitive 

 trout. I steadied myself for another cast, and then lift- 

 ing my flies from the surface, once more dropped them in 

 the same place, when another tigerish plunge ensued, 

 which resulted in the sweet music of the running reel— a 

 sound ever delightful to the patient angler. The astonished 

 trout tore .around at a fearful rate, giving me a combat 

 I shall ever remember. It was plunge and dash, reel up 

 and reel out, and a dive down and a leap up — a truly 

 marvellous acrobatic exhibition that I not only keenly 

 enjoyed but deeply admired. The skill and duplicity 

 of cunning man, however, finally tritimphed over the 

 dauntless heroism of the stubborn and gallant wa.rrior. 



Wben Joe, who had netted him, laid him on the 



