May 1904.J 
POHEST AND STREAM. 
of different animals, such as are commonly seen on the 
coast. 
Here Mackenzie was obliged to do some doctoring, 
and he describes the methods of the native physicians 
in treating their patients. 
Mackenzie had several times asked the chief for 
canoes to take the party to the sea, but his requests 
had received little attention. When, how^ever, he tried 
to take an observation the chief objected, not appar- 
ently because the natives v^^ere afraid of the instru- 
ments, but because their use might frighten the salmon 
from that part of the river. Just as they were about 
to embark in the large canoe, forty-five feet long, four 
feet wide and three and a half feet in depth, it was 
discovered that an ax was missing, and there was a 
short halt. Mackenzie's resolution procured the return 
of the a.K, and they went on. Villages were seen along 
the river, and once or twice they stopped. The people 
they passed seemed to have more and more articles of 
European manufacture, and they treated Mackenzie 
very well. On the evening of this day, at a village 
where they stopped, Mackenzie says, "I could perceive, 
personally, the termination of the river and its dis- 
charge into an arm of the sea." 
The Indians now seemed unwilling to go further, but 
two of them were persuaded to keep on, and, taking 
another canoe, about eight o'clock on Saturday, July 
20, they left the river and reached an arm of the sea. 
The tide was out, and the large mud flats, seaweed cov- 
ered, were bare. Gulls, eagle's and ducks were seen. 
The weather was boisterous, and before long they put 
ashore in a cove for the night. One of the young na-> 
tives here deserted, but, being pursued, was brought 
back. Since they had left the river porpoises and sea otter 
— or seals— had been continually in sight. Fresh water was 
had from streams running down the mountains, and 
just after dark the young chief from up the river came 
into camp with a large porcupine, which was eagerly 
devoured by the half-starved men. The next day they 
came across three canoes with fifteen people, one of 
whom seemed to have had some trouble with white 
men not long before. The people now met were some- 
what annoying, for they begged, pilfered and seemed 
to wish to see everything that the white men possessed. 
They constantly spoke of a white man named Macubah, 
very likely meaning Vancouver, and for the nega- 
tive, distinctly answered, "No, no." 
On the face of a rock at this point Mackenzie in- 
scribed, with vermilion, a brief note, "Alexander Mac- 
kenzie, from Canada, by land, the 22d July, 1793." 
Here also he was able to establish his position with 
some exactness, and this done he started to return. 
At a village near the mouth of the river a number of 
people rushed toward Mackenzie, apparently alDOut to 
attack him, and it seemed that these were the ones who 
had been fired on by the white people not long before. 
Mackenzie stood ready with his gun, and the Indians, 
seeing his attitude, dropped their knives. There had 
been something of a scuffle, though Mackenzie was un- 
injured, and the Indians had made off with his hat and 
cloak. After a little while, the young chief returning, 
made an explanation that the men belonging to the 
canoes, which had met them below in an inlet, had 
declared that the white people had killed four of their 
party. An explanation that this statement was false 
brought about a hollow truce, but relations were still 
somewhat strained. The Indians brought them food, 
however, and gave them setting poles, all of which 
were paid for. 
Mackenzie's people were very much frightened, and 
were determined to. leave the canoe and to start on foot 
over the mountains. So firm was the resolution that 
they threw everything that they had, except their blan- 
kets, into_ the river. Mackenzie, however, with his 
usual patience and resolution, set to work to guide 
them in the right way, and declaring that now he had 
accomplished his object, he had no other object but 
the_ common safety that he wished to return in the 
easiest and safest way, and that one of their party was 
sick and could not travel, and that they must stay 
with him. The result of this was that his people 
agreed that they would continue to follow him; but a 
number of them declared that they would not again 
enter this canoe, of which they were much afraid. Five 
people, therefore, including Mackenzie and the sick In- 
dian, entered the canoe, and made their slow way up 
the river. When they came in sight of a house they 
saw their young Indian, who had left them a day or two 
before, coming toward them, with six people, in a 
canoe. This encouraged them, as showing that the na- 
tives who had been spreading here reports about them 
had not., been listened to. At this village they were 
treated well. At the main village above the old chief 
received them as cordially as before, and fed them on 
fish and berries. 
Further up the river it appeared that a sick man, to 
whom Mackenzie had given some simple remedy, had 
died, and it was feared that the death might have been 
attributed to this remedy. Above this point they took 
again to the trail. They were very suspicious of the 
Indians, as the Indians were of them, and were con- 
stantly alarmed; and a panic in one party was suc- 
ceeded by a panic in the other. At other villages they 
were kindly received, and various presents were given 
them, and Mackenzie devotes many pages to a descrip- 
tion of the habits of these people. When they left the 
friendly village each man carried about twenty pounds 
of fish, and they also had a little flour and some pem- 
mican. -The sick Indian was slightly better, but could 
not travel fast, and in crossing rapids or difficult 
streams Mackenzie carried him on his back. 
It was now the last of July, the weather was warmer 
the grass green and the wild fruits ripe. High up on 
the mountains, though, the snow still clung, and the 
frost was hard. They were now marching fast, and as 
they went along they recovered, from tinte to time, the: 
provisions that they had hid on their westward j'oxir-' 
ney. On the 4th of August they reached the place 
where they had left their canoe, and found all their 
property in good order. There was not a foot-print ; : 
near their cache. The Indians whom they met near-^ ai - • 
hand were frightened at first, but soon became -fnendly-- - 
Notwithstanding the fact that they had left the prop- 
erty of the explorer absolutely untouched, they took 
away from the camp a variety of small articles which 
Mackenzie recovered by informing them that the sal- 
mon, which was their favorite food and necessary to 
their existence, came from the sea which belonged to 
. the white men, and that since at the entrance of the 
river it was possible to prevent those fish from coming 
up it, the white man possessed the power to. starve the 
Indians and their children. "To avert our anger, there- 
fore, they must return all the articles which had been 
stolen from us. This finesse succeeded." On^ a Tues- 
day, the 6th of August, they embarked in their canoe 
on their return journey. The stream was full of sal- 
mon, and the work of pushing up the river was slow 
and difiicult, but they were on the march toward 
home. Rains were frequent, but not long continued. 
On the 15th they reached the place where the canoe 
had been wrecked on the 13th of June, and made un- 
successful search for the bag of balls then lost. The 
following day they came to the Continental Divide, 
and it was here that Mackenzie had the thought of 
transferring some living salmon from the head of the 
Columbia to that of the Peace River. But, like most 
of his men, he was now in pretty bad condition from 
privation, excessive labor and cold, and he was unable 
to carry out the desire. On the 17th they carried across 
from the little lake to Peace River, and started down 
that stream. The passage was swift, and on the i8th 
they went down in one day what it had taken them 
seven to come up. 
They were now again reduced to a short allowance 
of food, and Mr. Mackay and the Indians were sent 
ahead to try and kill something, while the remainder of 
the party began to repair the canoe and to carry the 
baggage around the rapid, which, on their ascent, they 
had called Rocky Mountain Portage. About sunset Mr. 
Mackay returned with the flesh of a buffalo, and we 
may imagine what the sensations of these northmen 
were when they again put their teeth into this familiar 
food. The journey down the river continued swift, and 
they were careful to land at the head of each rapids 
and inspect it, but the canoe being light they passed 
over most places without difficulty. The hunters killed 
fat meat, and Mackenzie gives an idea of the appetites ' 
by saying that the ten people and a dog, in three meals, 
ate up an elk. 
On the 23d they were passing through a beautiful 
country full of buffalo, and on this day they killed a 
buffalo and a bear. On the 24th of August they rounded 
a point, and came in view of the fort. "We threw out 
our flag and accompanied it with a general discharge 
of firearms, while the men were in such spirits, 
and made such an active use of their paddles, that we 
arrived before the two men whom we left here in the 
spring could recover their senses to answer us. Thus 
we landed at four in the afternoon at the place which 
we felt on the 9th of May. Here my vovages of dis- 
covery terminate. Their toils and their dangers, their 
solicitudes and sufferings have not been exaggerated in 
my descriptions. * * * j received, however, the re- . 
ward of my labors, for they were crowned with suc- 
cess. 
George Bird Grinnell. 
The Woman^s View. 
My Dear Complete Angler: 
It seemed very queer to read your letter of cold and 
snow and sleighing whije we are in the midst of 
the dafly unfolding beauties of the spring. Our lawns are 
gay m green and gold, as Burroughs says : 
"Dandelion's coin of gold is freshly minted on the lawn," 
and the children, little misers, are eagerly clutching 
at the yellow treasure. I saw a magnolia warbler this 
luornmg, and a purple finch yesterday; our fruit trees are 
lovely m pmk and white. Don't these things make vou a 
bit envious ? 
^ Don't buy a ranch and stay out there forever. If you 
do I shall run away and hide myself in some vast wilder- 
ness and turn misanthrope ; .perhaps I shall lose my mind. 
1 11 go to some lone mountain hut and live by myself, and 
some day I'll jump off a rock and the leaves will cover 
me, and no one but the bluejays will know what has 
become of me. Now, will you be good? 
Violets have J, adder's tongue, arbutus, early meadow 
rue, bishop's cap, Jack-in-the-pulpit and columbine in my 
room to-day. I shall get up before breakfast in a day or 
two and go to see the columbines dance on the cliffs in 
the sunshine. The last time I was there (Ah! it was a 
year ago), I was not alone; I had a long, long tramp 
over the fields, ate my luncheon from a hill top at sun- , 
aown, came home in the sweet April twilight and heard 
at dusk the v.-oodcock's song, the whistling marmot and 
the bush sparrow. And everything I saw and heard was 
enhanced because I was not alone, and the memory of it 
all is doubly dear because I was not alone. 
Now, I must tell you what a beautiful day I had yes- 
terday. 
Two enthusiastic fishermen who let Prudence and me 
accompany them on a fishing expedition a week ago little 
thought what would grow out of their indulgence We 
had enjoyed our outing and pretended to fish, but it was 
most tantalizing to be confined to the banks when the men 
v/aded the stream, and to be told that further down 
where they went there were no end of beauties and trout 
and adventure denied us who calmly meandered on the 
banks where the walking was good and where the trout 
Gisdamed even to nibble at our bait. True, these same 
boastful fishermen came back that first day without a 
single trout to show for their long absence, but there was 
that m their faces that spoke of other things caught 
besides trout, and Prudence and I vowed a vow and the 
next few days saw the fulfilment of said vow 
Accordingly, when yesterday, after a drive of twenty 
njiles up m the wilds of Sullivan county to Serrine Brook 
we reached that enchanting spot. Prudence and I mysteri- 
ously disappeared with sundry bundles from under the 
wagon seat ; after some hesitation and much tr-epidation 
.we emerged from our hiding place minus encumbering 
skirts, soberly clad m dark gray blouses and Turkish 
trousers, ^with high rubber boots and soft felt hats, armed 
lor ^ the fray with creel and rod. Never till then did I 
know the meaning of emancipation. To be able to wade 
that stream, to step boldly over logs, to go and come with- 
out the hampering thoughts that always clitig to the 
skirted creature, ah! how \ye exulted in our new-found 
freedom. No wonder men are Called the lords of ore* 
ation when they can stride over barriers insurmountable 
U) the feeble being in skirts. Intoxicated with our free- 
dom, I should have found delight enough in its realization 
had the day held no other pleasures. 
We set out at 5 o'clock in the morning and were in the 
brook fishing at 9. 
All day we fished except when we stopped for dinner. 
The long drive over the mountain there and back was 
delightful, and that brook! How you would have en- 
joyed it. _ Masses of rhododendrons on the banks gave 
It a semi-tropical look (like rubber plants and orange 
loaves), and the running water and the mossy stones and 
logs— every glance back was a beautiful picture. 
I caught — took, I mean — four trout; two others got 
away before I could land them. They were all small; my 
Lirgest one was not much over seven inches. We brought 
back twenty-six, none of them very big; we had to throw 
a lot more back that were under size. 
Such quantities of arbutus as there were in the woods 
about us ! but we were so consumed with the angler's 
ardor that we only gathered a little while going back to 
camp. 
What a day it was ! Out of sight and hearing of each 
other nearly all day long, except when we met at dinner, 
yet none of us thought of being lonely. I found myself 
singing once or twice in sheer delight with the scene and 
the solitude, singing while wading knee deep in that hur- 
rying stream. 
When I pulled out the first trout it was different from 
v/hat I had expected. I felt quite calm, but found myself 
iaying aloud, "Honestly?" I could hardly credit it—a 
real trout on my hook— but I proceeded to take him off 
as though I had done it all my life. Then the reaction 
came. By the time I began to rebait my hook I was so 
L'urried and excited that it seemed I could never get that 
worm on. A worm never squirmed so before, I'm sure. 
I put my trophy on the bank near a wake robin, and 
feverishly returned to my fishing as though my very life 
depended upon it. It wasn't long before I took the sec- 
ond trout, then two littk fellows got away from me, then ' 
we had dinner, and in the afternoon I got several bites — 
strikes, I mean— each one a distinct event which made 
memorable the spots where they occurred, and two more 
trout, and at 6 o'clock we came away. A bare outline as 
I look back upon the day. It seems a funny thing to 
spend all that time contentedly, and only catch four 
trout, but you know better than I can tell you how much 
else I caught— how full the beautiful day was. Oh, I 
caught a little green crab, too, and saw a garter snake, 
and found a yellow violet and some tiny white ones, and 
quantities of blue ones, and oh, the strawberry blossoms, 
and the arbutus— literally carpets of it— I found in a wood 
road that led back to where we met for dinner. 
We built a camp-fire and had a gypsy dinner on the 
banks of the stream. Our horses standing near, the 
covered wagon, the blankets spread on the ground— these 
gave a touch of real gypsy life. And how good our cof- 
lee tasted, and the broiled chops ! But we were eager 
to be done with dinner, appetitizing as it was, and get 
back to the alluring stream. 
I wanted to write to you about it all last night while 
the experience was fresh with me, but my aching eyes 
and an unwonted prudence stayed mv hand. Long after 
I put out my light, until I fell asle'ep, I could see the 
\-aned pictures of the day— the shad blow's feathery 
beauty all along the mountains, the blood roots, violets 
and anemones in clumps as we drove by, .the dandelions 
ni the grass, the; cowslips in the meadows, the plum and 
cherry and peach blossoms, and then up on the mountains 
the rocks and th& bare trees, with the dark evergreens 
m sca.ttered patches, and the frequent gleam of the shad 
bush m the midst of the brown and naked trees. 
What a forlorn stretch of country up there in the 
mountains where the pole shavers dwell— a shiftless lot 
01 people who live in hovels remotely scattered in the 
wilds. Such miserable, neglected looking children swarming 
at the doors and windows, too. They peered at us in 
curious timidity from eyes half hid by their tumbled, 
tawny locks. The hollows in the road over which we 
jolted were filled in with shavings from the poles. These 
people just manage to eke out the barest kind of subsist- 
ence at this work. It was depressing to think how poor 
and mean their lives are. What makes it so much more 
deplorable is that dwelling in the midst of this wild 
beauty they are blind to it all. If they had the compen- 
sation of sensing the beauty, one could feel that they 
were amply repaid for much that they lose— much that 
we feel so necessary to our existence, but no, they are 
utterly incapable of seeing and feeling all this which had 
been such a boon to me the whole livelong day. It was 
this that made me pity them more than anything else, 
more than for the poverty and the squalor of their be- 
nighted lives. 
Of course, all that I experienced yesterday was novel 
to me, but an old story to you. Just go back in your 
memory to the first tim.e you tried to manage a pole— • 
rod, I should say— and a perverse fish hook, and the line 
that shows an aptitude for doing just the thing it ought 
not to do. Why, I had some of the most tantalizing 
experiences with my hook and line that are conceivable 
yet I suppose every full-fledged angler knows all about 
similar experiences. It made me think of the title of one 
oJ: the popular novels— "The Disentanglers." I would 
get so exasperated, then the perversity of the thing would 
be so extreme that I was forced to quell my irritation 
and smile a grim smile as I wondered helplessly to what 
lengths such perversity would go. Many a time I found 
myself reflecting on the excellent practice in patience 
one could get from an attempt I0 fish for trout 
Of course, it is bad enough to catch your hook in stones 
or logs or grass so deep in the water that you have to 
bare your arm to the elbow and poke around till your 
lingers ache unbearably with the cold, to release your 
hook; and your frantic efforts to disentangle your line 
from rhododendron leaves and the tiny twigs and buds 
oi overhangmg branches; these are all bad enough. I'll 
allow, but you haven't encountered the worst thing' that 
comes to you along this line until you have succeeded in 
hooking yourself in the trousers so far behind you that 
you are like a dog chasing his tail, as you twist and 
Struggle to liberate that perverse hook. This I did twice 
