Oct. is, 1910.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
609 
back to the main camp next clay was a difficult 
one. 
We left the Lochsaw Meadows on a three 
days’ jaunt to the Lost Lakes. The journey was 
without event, save for the usual hardships inci¬ 
dent to mountain travel. Charley picked out the 
route with the savage’s usual instinctive w'ood- 
craft. I never ceased to marvel at the skill 
with which he managed to choose a route that 
would bring us at sunset to a desirable camp¬ 
ing place. In all the time we were together he 
did not once miss reaching grass and water. 
The Lost Lakes are two small glacial sheets 
of crystal-clear water perched on the rugged 
a white fringe several yards wide lay on the 
surface. 
The countless number of the insects attracted 
the trout, which kept the water in a continual 
commotion, leaping for the feast so unexpectedly 
spread for them. It was impossible to lure the 
fish with any artificial bait. Nothing attracted 
them except the butterflies. Starvation, as far 
as fish were concerned, stared us in the face. 
We built a hand raft out of cedar logs, pro¬ 
cured a supply of butterflies and pushed out be¬ 
yond the fringe. No sooner had one of the 
hooks, baited with a butterfly, struck the water 
than a lusty trout seized it. These trout were the 
cemetery. The method of interment is charac¬ 
teristic of the savage. The dead body was 
placed in a trench made by throwing out the 
loose rock, several long pieces of split cedar 
set upright below it and secured by rolling stones 
against them, the body then loosely covered with 
stones to prevent the inroads of coyotes, and 
nature was left to cover the body deeper with 
the falling stones. Many of the bodies were 
buried twenty feet deep, indicating the great 
length of time they must have been there. 
That night while we were inspecting some 
relics secured from the graves, Charley related 
the Nez Perce legend of the creation of the 
western slope of the Bitter Roots near the sum¬ 
mit. The basin seems to have been scooped out 
by some volcanic disturbance in past ages. The 
Government has since built a good trail into the 
locality, but at the time we were there the lakes 
were reached only by a dim trail known only to 
the Indians and the few white trappers. Here 
we spent several days, resting the horses and 
fishing before turning south into the wilderness 
of the inter-Kooskia basin. 
While we were here a curious natural phe¬ 
nomenon attracted my notice. For several miles 
before we reached the lakes my attention was 
called to the small white butterflies in the air. 
They looked like immense snowflakes so numer¬ 
ous were they. A flight of them would settle 
on the trees, and in less than an hour the trees 
would be bare of leaves. On the second morn¬ 
ing we awoke to find the air filled and the trees 
covered with the butterflies. They swarmed over 
everything like locusts. Before noon there was 
no foliage left. As far out on the water as 
they could fly the lake was covered with them; 
A FOREST IN THE NORTHERN ROCKIES. 
Photograph by Asahel Curtis. 
most beautiful of any I have ever seen. When 
first taken from the water they were a deep 
purple. As they became dry the color faded 
until at last it became the most exquisite salmon 
pink. The flesh was firm and finely flavored. 
1 do not know the classification. The flight of 
butterflies continued for three days, and then 
disappeared as suddenly as it had come. 
The Lost Lakes must be the raven and eagle 
metropolis. From morning to night dozens of 
great golden eagles were in sight, and the forest 
trees were filled with their nests. At times we 
saw two or three nests in one large larch. The 
ravens were very sociable. Many of them came 
right into camp and seized morsels of food lying 
on the table. The refuse from our cooking and 
fish cleaning was pounced upon and carried away 
almost before our backs were turned. The Lost 
Lakes must have been known to and visited by 
the Indians for ages. Near the southern shore 
of one is a great basaltic cliff 300 feet high. In 
the talus formed by the stones that have fallen 
from the cliff I found a very ancient Indian 
Indian tribes. I had heard it many times before, 
but he told it in a manner more clear than I 
had ever heard it. While not concerned with 
hunting and fishing, it may prove interesting as 
a side light on savage beliefs. 
“Many, many ages ago there lay in the valley 
of the Kooskia, near Kamiali, a monster Utwe- 
wetsix. This monster was grown to the earth 
by his heart so that he could not move, but he 
had the power to cast from his mouth and nos¬ 
trils a dense vapor or smoke that made all the 
birds and animals that came near fall asleep. 
When they were asleep they fell into the open 
mouth of Iltwewetsix and he swallowed them. 
In this way he lived. 
“In those days the birds and animals spoke 
and each understood the other. One day they 
held a meeting on the hill beyond Kamiah and 
discussed what they should do to rid themselves 
of this great destroyer. In despair they were 
about to disperse when Coyote spoke up and 
said that he could rid the earth of this monster. 
Coyote had only recently come among them from 
