The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1903-09-20

Ibid you kill him?' The old man found
his way to the other room, got gun and
CROPPED his way to the beach, where he
fired two shots at the retreating boat.
That was the story-fancy our alghting
after this scene. To add to the horror,
one only has to picture the old man living
there alone, seldom seeing any but In
dians, save when a white man appears
over the trail, miles and miles away from
everything, and nobody to do anything for
him. Late in the afternoon while we were
there white man drifted in from set
Element long ways off and offered to care
for him, and as our friend had arrived
over the trail, we only waited for the tide
to turn before setting out for the mine. A
drizzling rain had set in, so we exchanged
our canoe, which wouldn't hold four, for
one of the traders good-sized rowboats. 1t
got dark and darker-the blacklist night 1
ever saw. We had no lantern and could
not see the middle of the boat from the
stern. The country being new to all of
us and the shores rocky and treacherous,
did not make things more comfortable. 1t
was a terrifying ride, and an awful pull,
as sixteen miles is not pleasure-trip under
the best circumstances. After three hours
we thought our wharf must be near, but
twas impossible to tell. We must needs
keep out to avoid being dashed to pieces
on the rocks. Unfortunately the store
keeper had not been told to look for US,
and had no light out. 1t did seem we
should have TO spend the night on the
water with the rain beating down on us,
not daring to try to land. An unusual thing
saved us. One of the horses used in pull
ing the sled kicked the side of his stable
and repeated the operation several times.
We knew the noise and also that those
were the only horses within two or three
hundred miles. So we carefully located
the sound, pulled up TO shore, bumped
against the landing and piled out, stiff
sore and tired out with the excitement of
the day.
After getting the launch in running
order a few days after this, We arranged
for a trip 10 the head of the southeast
arm, where there are the only elk to be
found in British Columbia, and started out
fitted with blankets and the grub that
prospectors take. The scenery up this
arm is very beautiful. The hills on either
side have much snow on them and along
the coast are many rocky inlets and little
d
stream literally full of trout, as for months
there will be no one to fish 1.-THE Indians
seldom go after small fry. preferring the
salmon. On anchoring, we could lind no
place to pitch a tent, the ground rising
steep. and the low places marshy. ! dis
covered something which proved to be two
abandoned Indian cabins, close together
entirely overgrown with nettles and rank
weeds, but when We chopped our way in
and crept through the low door, was snug
and dry, albeit covered with the dirt OF
many moons and siwashes. 1t seemed the
only thing TO do to spread out the tent and
blankets inside and stay there for the
night The idea was gruesome, but when
roughing it in the wilds you learn to put
up with many unusual things. We soon
had a cracking fire in the center of the
cabin and our meal cooking away merrily
the only Inconvenience being smoke in the
eyes and the inability TO stand upright
(the smallest of the party being taller
than an Indian.) The boys went after elk
after supper. but only brought back deer
There were tear tracks all about one came
down that night and pulled up a hornets
nest a few feet from the door. 1t was
spooky sleeping in that cabin ii your
imagination was vivid, but shut 1t OF
and were not troubled by what might have
been. In the morning long before day
light party Of ravens assembled on the