July 2, 1904.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
m 
furrin' in de hoods." A huge red beard completely con- 
cealed the lower half of the old man's face, while a straw 
hat, torn and battered, left us in ignorance of the rest of 
his physiognomy. That straw hat was certainly in the 
last days of the "sere and yellow leaf," but Jim was 
proud of it, none the less, for it was made by Dunlap, and 
the year before had even graced the head of a New York 
"sporter." William boasted pure French ancestors, but 
his swarthy complexion and greasy black hair savored 
strongly of a more humbler lineage. When I suggested 
the possibility • of Indian origin, he quickly and em- 
phatically showed his contempt for the entire race. The 
cook's clothes were covered with many variegated 
patches, while a pair of huge boots added to an appear- 
ance which was naturally grotesque. But aside from his 
garb, he betrayed no evidences of individuality whatever, 
always remaining just plain John, and strong as a horse 
"no! as willing a packer as ever carried a load, but as a 
cook he had missed his vocation. John could brew the 
b.iterest tea, mix the toughest bread, and boil the sog- 
giest dumplings that mortal man ever digested and sur- 
vived; but after learning the proper proportion of Ameri- 
can baking powder with section house flour, he rapidly 
improved, and we left him as proficient in the culinary 
art as the average Newfoundland cook — which is not 
saying a great deal. 
Our brook was some twelve miles distant, to be 
reached by dory along the coast, and as it was already 
dark, we camped by the tracks to dream of the morrow — 
dreams such as only an angler knows — of pools filled 
wi h monster salmon and of great speckled trout chasing 
each other for the fly. 
Daylight saw the party seated in two dilapidated 
dories, with outfit and provisions securely packed on 
spruce boughs in the stern, well up out of reach of the 
'• "'.er. which leaked in little rivulets in from between 
the planks. The ocean, calm and placid as a pond, was 
so clear that objects far below appeared distinct against 
the white sands of the bottom. Great jagged rocks dotted 
the shore, and here and there their dark shapes loomed 
black above the surface of the sea. Long salmon and 
herring nets stretched at intervals far ' out from the 
beach, while numerous little black buoys" indicated that 
"lobstering" was an industry extensively carried on. 
Occasionally a dirty little hut, perched at the head of a 
cove, marked the site of a "factory," where the lobsters 
are boiled, opened, packed in cans, and finally shipped to 
St. John's for export. Sea birds were not as frequent 
along the bluffs as I had expected, and only a few species 
were noticed. Common terns, it is true, were abundant; 
but aside from them, merely a few black-backed and 
herring gulls floating on the ocean, a flock of ■noisy crows 
in the spruces, a solitary raven stalking majestically on 
the sand, and high up among the clouds the plaintive 
whistle of a yellow-leg, varied the monotonous thumping 
of Jim's home-made oars, as the dories crawled slowly 
toward their destination. 
It was a long, tedious day, and welk toward evening 
when at last the boats turned in at a narrow fresh-water 
channel marking the river. The latter, Jim explained, 
was long and winding, drawing its waters from a series 
of unfrequented and unnamed ponds fifty miles back in 
the interior. Three excellent pools were-situated close to 
the ocean; ten miles up stream six or seven more fol- 
lowed in quick succession for five miles, while still 
further on, some three days' tramp above the upper 
pools, the Grand Fall, which prevented the salmon from 
ascending, was the surest spot of all. Practically no. 
rain had fallen since early May. Consequently, every 
stream in Newfoundland was dryer and shallower than 
customary at that time; and as I subsequently found to 
my sorrow, the whole summer proved one long, exas- 
perating drought. In view of this condition of the water, 
our guide proposed a plan of attack which seemed wisely 
conceived, and sure of ultimate success, namely, to camp 
by the ocean until rain raised the water sufficiently to 
allow the salmon to enter the lower pools, then to follow 
the' fish up stream and remain for a week at the upper 
pools, and finally to pack forty miles across the hills to 
the Grand Fall. This would carry me to the middle of 
August, and to the end of the salmon season, but it 
would leave me right in the. heart of caribou country as 
fine as any in the colony, if not in the world. 
The first day we fished persistently with great hopes, 
but without a rise ; the second became a repetition of the 
first, and the third of the second, but with slightly mod- 
erated enthusiasm. All. possible combinations of flies, 
coupled with the piscatorial skill of the entire party, 
failed utterly and completely. Thursday, the fourth day, 
proved a calm; not a breath stirred the water, and the 
three pools were calm and glassy; but not one fish could 
be seen, either lying on the white sands of the shoal or 
stemming the swift water by the pool's head, or lurking 
in the dark hole under the big rock. One thing was cer- 
lain there were no salmon. The salmon had not ar- 
rived; yet during all this time hundreds of fat sea trout 
were jumping in the brackish water below camp. 
That evening, as we sat around the fire discussing the 
situation and the prospects for rain, an old man appeared, 
bearing in one hand some lobsters fresh from the factory, 
and in the other a great salmon just taken from the nets. 
The former could be purchased for five cents each, and 
they were purchased very quickly, too, as we had not 
tested fish or meat for nearly a week. I fear, however, 
that I spoke rather harshly to the old man when he 
offered me his salmon at four cents a pound._ To come 
a thousand miles for the very purpose of killing one, to 
fail, and then to have one dangled before your eyes, and 
that for sale, was certainly adding insult to injury. That 
old man never fully grasped the meaning of my explana- 
tion, and if asked could not to this very day tell why the 
two' hungry fishermen refused to buy his fish. A New- 
foundland fisherman never can thoroughly comprehend 
the sportsman's idea of sport. His hunting means pack- 
ir.o- meat for hungry mouths, and his fishing means haul- 
ing trawls and baiting cod hooks; perhaps he has a right 
to his opinion that "de sporters be a foolish people to 
come t' Newfoundland." . . 
Early Friday morning, just at the -turn of the rising 
tide I stood kneedeep in the foam and cast out into the 
current for sea trout. Just where the surf broke and 
breakers swelled in at' the, river's narrow channel, was the 
place- and my very first cast was rewarded by a sharp 
tug as a good sized fish struck the dropper below the 
surface. In a twinkling, Dugmore had unlimbered his 
big Graflex, focused it, and several times I heard its 
shutter fall with a snap before the trout finally suc- 
cumbed and was brought to- the landing-net. It was cer- 
tainly a novel experience for the old rod, reared between 
the alder-grown banks of a fresh mountain brook away 
back in northern Jersey, and educated only by the splash 
and pull of a red-bellied, square-tailed Jontinaiis. But 
salt air and the brine of the sea seemed good for the 
little rod; the silvery fish rose prettily from beneath the 
foam, and the sport waxed fast and furious. Frequently, 
at critical moments, the camera would snap vigorously 
from somewhere in the rear; but after making half a 
dozen exposures, my friend could resist temptation no 
longer, and wading in waistdeep, dropped his flies upon 
the dancing waters. Nearly every cast meant a rise, but 
by no means did always mean another fish in the creel. 
For sea trout are tender of lip, possessing smaller 
mouths than their brothers of the inland ponds and 
brooks; a surging current rushed through the narrow 
channel like a mill-race; and besides, there were some 
big fellows lurking deep down among the eddies. They 
were educated fish, or perhaps had grown too old for 
idle play; at any rate they never frisked about upon 
the surface with smaller fry, but reserved all their antics 
until fast to a No. 6 hook. These large trout invariably 
struck the fly under water; but when once they did 
strike, it was with no uncertain intent, for they never 
missed. When aided by the strong rush of an incoming 
tide one of these heavy fish will sorely try the mettle of 
any four or even six-ounce red ever made, for game and 
sturdy fighters they always prove. Hanging back and 
tugging at the line with a perseverance equal to that of 
the most obstinate black bass, when near the net they 
dive and pull and splash, darting, arrow-like, with the 
speed of a pike — but alas! they never jump. No sea trout 
that I ever caught displayed the dash and spirit, the 
frenzied rushes and wild, reckless leaps, of a grilse or 
ouananiche. 
The sport continued until high water, and then ceased 
as suddenly as it had commenced ; fOr with the first ebb 
of the tide the trout stopped their frolicking, and quietly 
slipped back into deeper waters of the sea. But we 
had enough, and our full share. Twenty-three fat fish 
glistened on the beach, while many smaller ones, re- 
leased from the hock, again sported among the waves 
with their fellows — "sadder but wiser" trout. 
Birds of many different species flitted through the 
bushes around camp or among the thick growth along the 
river banks. All were in full song, and displayed their 
brightest nuptial plumage, as it was the height of the 
breeding season. Not ten yards from the tent a pair of 
Wilson's warblers (Wilsonia pusilla) spent half their 
time feeding four noisy nestlings, and the other half 
scolding us for intruding upon the privacy of their home 
'life. Ruby-crowned kinglets, chickadees and nuthatches, 
both white' and red-breasted, roamed in bands through 
the spruces, while a pair of Hudsonian titmice (Parus 
hudsonicus) had just fledged a brood from an old stump 
near by. Fox sparrows (Passerella iliaca) and olive- 
backed thrushes (H. ustulata swainsonii) were nesting 
in the thickets, and we spent some time and not a little 
patience in photographing a contrary minded youngster 
of the former species. Of sparrows, the white-throated' 
(Zonotrichia albicollis) was perhaps the most abundant, 
and its sweet, mournful whistle could be heard every 
morning and evening, or often broke the stillness of 
night. Robins and warblers were everywhere, and I 
never saw woodpeckers in greater numbers ; at least five 
different species were observed, and a few miles up 
stream a pair of yellow-bellied (Syphrapicus varius) 
were seen busily engaged carrying grubs into a cavity in 
an old dead tree. I tapped at its base, placed my ear to 
the bark, and was rewarded by that sonorous chorus so 
well known to a lover of birds — a chorus of young wood- 
peckers. Almost every turn in the river sheltered y a 
spotted sandpiper ; and one little fellow, just hatched, dis- 
obeyed the warning note of his parents, betraying his 
presence by running swiftly over sand and pebbles. The 
camera shot him several times, and we finally left him, a 
little gray ball frozen stiff somewhere among the gravel. 
His protective coloration would have deceived far : 
sharper eyes than our own, the eyes of owls and hawks 
and weasels ; let us hope that in future it did. 
Early Sunday morning came the welcome sound of 
raindrops pelting against the walls of the tent. It was 
only a shower, to be sure, but it helped ; for the water, 
was muddy, the river was rising very slowly, and by 
sundown flowed fully six inches higher than on the 
previous day. Now salmon would surely come in from 
the sea; they would run on to the upper pools, and we 
must move camp and follow them. 
Trails of the Pathfinders —XL 
Lewis and Clark (CoLtinoec). 
By the end of August the explorers, having procured 
a number of horses, set to work to make saddles, cache 
their extra baggage, and set out for their journey north 
and west. The way led them over rough mountains, often 
without a trail. They were fortunate in having an old 
Indian as guide, but unfortunate in meeting much cold 
weather, and in finding the country barren of game. How- 
ever, after two or three days of very difficult travel, they 
c- me upon a camp of friendly Indians, who fed them. 
These people professed to be an offshoot of the Tushepaw 
tribe, had plenty of horses, and generally were fairly well 
provided. They told them that down the great river was 
a large fall, near which lived white people, who supplied 
them with beads and brass wire. Not long after this they 
met the first Chopunnish, or Pierced-nose Indians, whom 
we know to-day as Nez Perces. They were friendly, and 
were treated as other tribes had been. 
Although the explorers had had one satisfying meal, 
yet food was very scarce, and the Indians subsisted as best 
they might on the few salmon still remaining in the 
streams, which they shared with the white men. The pri- 
vations suffered recently were making them weak; many 
were sick ; and it was so necessary to husband their 
strength that Captain Clark determined to make the re- 
maining journey by water. Canoes were built, and the 
thirty-eight horses were branded and turned over to three 
Indians to care for until the explorers returned. Provi- 
sions for the trip were very difficult to obtain. On the 
morning of September 27 they started down Lewis river, 
without two of the Nez Perce chiefs who had promised 
to go with them. Indian encampments were numerous 
along the river, but food continued very scarce, and their 
only supply consisted of roots, which they got from the 
Indians. Later they bought some dogs from the Nez 
Perce for food, and were laughed at by the Indians, who 
did not eat dogs. The Nez Perce during summer and 
autumn occupied themselves in fishing for salmon and col- 
lecting roots and berries, while in winter they hunted the 
deer on snowshoes, and toward spring crossed the moun- 
tains to the Missouri for the purpose of trading for buf - 
falo robes. They appeared very different from the kindly 
Shoshoni; they were selfish and avaricious, and expected 
a reward for every service, and a full price for every arti- 
cle they parted with. 
Although it was now drawing toward mid-October, the 
weather continued warm. Progress down the stream was 
rapid, though more so in appearance than in reality, owing 
to the river's bends. On the bank of the stream, at a 
large Indian camp where they stopped October 11, a novel 
form of sweat-house was observed. Earth was banked up 
on three sides against a cut-bank at the river's edge, and 
the Indians, descending through the roof, which was cov- 
ered with brush and earth, except for a small aper- 
ture, took down their hot stones and vessels of water, and 
bathed here. 
A few days later one of the boats upset, and as this con- 
tained all their provisions, which got thoroughly wet and 
were spoiled, they were again suffering for food. Every- ' 
where along the stream were seen fishing stations, estab- 
lished by the Indians, each station the property of differ- 
ent families, and which no one could use except members 
of that family. As they went on the navigation of the 
stream became worse, and at one place they were obliged 
to make a portage of three-quarters of a mile. 
They were now approaching the camp of a different 
nation of Indians, who had been warned of the coming 
of the party by the two chiefs who had gone before, and 
now they began to receive visits from men who had come 
up the stream to satisfy the curiosity excited by the re- 
ports': When they reached the camp they were hospitably 
received, and the usual council was held, accompanied by 
distribution of presents and medals; and they obtained 
from the Indians some dogs, a few fish, and a little dried 
horse flesh. This was at the junction of the Lewis River 
and the Columbia ; and the Indians, who called themselves 
Sokulks, seemed a mild and peaceable people, living in a 
state of comparative happiness. The men appeared to have 
but. one wife, old age was respected, and the people were 
agreeable to deal with. Their support was largely fish, to 
which were added roots and the flesh 'of the antelope. 
They were chiefly canoe people, and possessed but few 
horses. 
Here Captain Clark, while ascending the Columbia in a 
small canoe, first saw, besides the captured fish drying on 
scaffolds, "immense numbers of salmon strewed along the 
shore, or floating on the surface of the water." At the 
Indian villages that he passed he was hospitably received, 
and here first the sage grouse, called a "prairie cock, a bird 
of the pheasant kind, of about the size of a small turkey," 
was captured. 
Proceeding down' the Columbia a few days' journey, 
an interesting incident took place : "As Captain Clark 
arrived at the lower end of the rapid before any, except 
one of the small canoes, he sat down on a rock to wait for 
them, and, seeing a crane fly across the river, shot it, and 
it fell near him. Several Indians had been before this 
passing on the opposite side toward the rapids, and some 
who were then nearly in front of him, being either 
alarmed at his appearance or the report of the gun, fled 
to their homes. Captain Clark was afraid that these peo- 
ple had not yet heard that the white men were coming, 
and therefore, in order to allay their uneasiness before 
the rest of the party should arrive, he got into the small 
canoe with three men, rowed over toward the houses, and, 
while crossing, shot a duck, which fell into the water. As 
he approached no person was to be seen, except three 
men in the plains, and they, too, fled as he came near the 
shore. He landed in front of five houses close to each 
other, but no one appeared, and the doors, which were of 
mat, were closed. He went toward one of them with a 
pipe in his hand, and, pushing aside the mat, entered the 
lodge, where he found thirty-two persons, chiefly men 
and women, with a few children, all in the greatest con- 
sternation; some hanging down their heads, others crying 
and wringing their hands. He went up to them and shook 
hands with each one in the most friendly manner; but 
their apprehensions, which had for a moment subsided, 
revived on his taking out a burning-glass, as there was no 
roof to the house, and lighting his pipe. He then offered 
it to several of the men, and distributed among the women 
and children some small trinkets which he had with him, 
and gradually restored a degree of tranquility among 
them. _ Leaving this house, and directing each of his men 
to visit a house, he entered a second. Here he found the 
inmates more terrified than those in the first ; but he suc- 
ceeded in pacifying them, and afterward went into the 
other houses, where the men had been equally successful. 
Retiring from the houses, he seated himself on a rock, and 
beckoned to some of the men to come and smoke with 
him, but none of them ventured to join him till the canoes 
arrived with the two chiefs, who immediately explained 
our pacific intentions toward them. Soon after the in- 
terpreter's wife landed, and her presence dissipated all 
doubts of our being well disposed, since in this country 
no woman ever accompanies a war party; they therefore 
all came out, and seemed perfectly reconciled; nor could 
we, indeed, blame them for their terrors, which were per- 
fectly natural. They told the two chiefs that they knew 
we were not men, for they had seen us fall from the 
clouds. In fact, unperceived by them, Captain Clark had 
shot the white crane, which they had seen fall just before 
he appeared to their eyes : the duck which he had killed 
also fell close by him, and as there were some clouds fly- 
ing over at the moment, they connected the fall of the 
birds with his sudden appearance, and believed that he 
had himself actually dropped from the clouds, considering 
the noise of the rifle, which they had never heard before, 
the sound announcing so extraordinary an event. This 
belief was strengthened, when, on entering the room, he 
brought down fire from the heavens by means of his burn- 
