CHAPTER XVI

A MOTHER'S COURAGE

As they turned north again and paddled on up the inlet the talk was naturally of the wonders that they had just left.

"Surely," said Jack, "this is the most wonderful place that I have ever seen."

"Yes, indeed," said Hugh, "it beats all the countries that my eyes have ever rested on, and I never expect to see anything so wonderful again."

"It was beautiful," said Fannin, "and how cold and gloomy it was one moment and how bright and beautiful the next."

"Yes," said Jack, "and yet when it was brightest and most beautiful it seemed cold all the time. It reminded me of what I've read about the Arctic regions. There was not a thing but snow and ice and just a few straggling stunted trees. I remember reading somewhere about a point down at the other end of South America where there is nothing to be seen but rocks and a little timber and snow and icebergs. That is the way Princess Louise seemed to me, but I do wish that we had had time to land and follow up that big river toward those heights."

"That would have been a nice trip," said Fannin; "but I guess it would have been an awful hard one. It looked to me as if those rocks were big and hard to climb among. We'd have had to carry our beds and our grub on our backs, and it might have taken us a long time to get up even to the foot of that big peak that stood up so high."

"Yet, I suppose there must be lots of life up there," said Jack; "birds and animals, and of course if there are birds and animals there must be vegetation to support them."

"Sure," said Fannin. "I don't doubt but that there are goats and deer and ptarmigan, probably bears, and possibly other animals. Of course the sheep don't get down so close to the salt water, at least I have never seen them there. I don't doubt, though, but there's plenty of life up there."

"Anyhow," said Jack, "it looks as if the country had not changed a bit since the glacier came pouring down through those valleys and was working its way toward the salt water."

"I don't believe it has," said Fannin, "except that trees have grown; perhaps some little soil has been made here and there; but except for that I suppose the country is unchanged."

For a while they paddled on in silence, and then, as they rounded a point, came a call from Fannin: "Hello! there's an Indian village."

Three or four houses stood on the bank but a short distance back from the water's edge, and near them were a few people busy at different tasks. When they saw the canoe they all stopped and began to stare at it. Down on the beach, just above the water's edge was an old man working over a canoe. Fannin said: "Let's push in there and see if we can buy some potatoes or other food." They pushed up to the beach, and when close to it saluted the old man with the usual phrase, "_Kla-haw-ya tillicum?_" (How are you, friend?) The man gave an answering shout, and Hamset turned to them and said: "I guess he can't talk with us"; which was Fannin's translation into English.

They landed and found that the man was mending some cracks in his canoe by fastening over them strips of tin, seemingly cut from an old tin can, by means of tacks and a primitive stone hammer--a cylinder of stone with enlarged flat ends.

Hamset began to talk with him in Chinook, but the man apparently did not understand, and replied by a speech in some language which Hamset could not comprehend. There was a long talk, in which each of the two Indians made a speech, which was not understood by the other. Fannin tried the old man in Canadian French, and Hugh made signs to him, but there seemed to be no common ground of communication. After each remark by the old man, Hamset would hopelessly reply after hearing him through: "_Wake nika kumtux-mika wahwah_" (I don't understand your talk).

Within a rude fence near one of the houses was what looked like a garden, in which were growing plants that resembled potatoes. Presently a bright thought came to Jack, and he walked down to the canoe, took from the provision box a potato and handed it to the old man. It was amusing to them all to see the expression of perplexity clear away from the old Indian's face and understanding and satisfaction appear. He laughed delightedly and shouted to the women at the house, and a little later two of them came down carrying a large basket of potatoes--and very good ones too. These were put into the canoe, and paid for by "four bits." Then at Hugh's suggestion Jack gave the old man a piece of tobacco. They wandered up to the houses, looked into them, and presently returned to the neighborhood of the canoe. Leaning against one of the houses was a two-pronged salmon spear, which Jack wanted and which the old man sold him for half a dollar. Jack thought that the implement might be useful a little later, as the salmon were now beginning to run into the fresh water streams in considerable numbers. Hamset said that these Indians were called Hanéhtsin. He declared that most of the people must be away fishing, and said that there must be many of them who could speak Chinook, although this man could not.

Next morning as they were eating breakfast a canoe came in sight from the direction of the village, and when it landed the paddlers proved to be their friends of the night before, who brought them some more potatoes and several salmon just from the water. These having been duly paid for at the rate of twenty-five cents each--for a twenty pound salmon--they brought forth from the canoe a large basket of berries which a small boy who was with them, and who had some knowledge of the Chinook jargon, announced was a "potlatch," or gift--very likely in return for the bit of tobacco that Jack had given to the old man the night before.

A little later, the canoe being loaded, the party pushed off from the shore, and, leaving the Indians sitting idly in their canoes, paddled back down the inlet.

"What I can't understand, Mr. Fannin," said Jack, "is how it is that these Indians don't understand one another. Of course, I don't suppose that all the different tribes on this coast speak the same language, any more than our Indians out on the plains, but I should suppose that there would be some common way of talking to each other, just as the plains Indians all understand the sign language."

"Well," said Fannin, "you'd think so, of course, but that's one of the queer things about this country. While often you'll find a great many villages that speak the same language, and while you'll find in most of the villages a number of people that can talk Chinook, it's nevertheless the fact that stowed away in bays and inlets all along this coast are little tribes that speak a language that is not understood by any other tribe. I have talked with a few people out here who were regular Indian 'sharps,' and who had been among Indians over most of the country, and they say that there are a number of Indian languages spoken here that are absolutely different from each other and different from any other languages in North America. This is a mighty queer thing, and I can't understand it at all. I've always supposed that it was this fact that obliged the Indians to get up this Chinook jargon, which is a kind of a trade talk, used all up and down the coast and a good way inland, too, to enable these people to talk among themselves. I have never seen any of these Indians here using the sign language, and you can see for yourself that this old chap did not understand what it was that Hugh was trying to say to him with his hands. They do say that this Chinook jargon was gotten up before the white men came here to this country, and you can see how necessary it would be to people coming in contact with others who spoke a language different from their own. Now, I suppose that in the old times there used to be considerable travel along this coast, north and south, and considerable intercourse between the different tribes of Indians. And while we know that the northern Indians could not talk with the southern ones, yet they visited and traded, and made war and made peace again. It must have been necessary for them to understand each other in some way, and that's the way this jargon came to be invented. Of course, it's changed a lot, I fancy, and especially since the white people got in here."

"But about this Indian here," said Hugh, "it seems to me that he ought to be able to understand our Indians. Their villages cannot be more than a hundred miles from one another, and to an Indian a hundred miles is nothing. These Ucletah must sometimes come up to the head of this Inlet, and these people who live up here, Hanéhtsin,--don't you call them,--must go down the inlet and go up and down the shore. It would seem as if they must have met sometimes, and as if they would have some common speech."

"Yes," said Fannin. "They ought to, but I don't believe they have. Of course I know no more about them than you do, but you saw the experiments that were tried upon that old chap that we've just left."

"Yes," said Hugh, "there's no going back on that. He didn't understand, no matter how much he ought to have understood."

"Hugh," said Jack, "did you count the number of people at the village?"

"Yes," said Hugh, "I did: three women, three children, and the old man."

"Well," said Jack, "did you count the dogs?"

"No," said Hugh; "I reckon I forgot to count the dogs. There were a lot of them, I know."

"Nineteen," said Jack. "I counted them. Three or four times I had them all counted, and then a lot more would show up. There were a lot lying down sunning themselves when I got there, and after they had got up and come round to threaten us, a lot more came out of the house. This nineteen that I counted didn't include the pups. I looked into a little pen built of sticks, near one of the houses, and there were nine puppies in there, just able to waddle, and I saw some others not much older wandering about."

"Ah," said Charlie, "call it 'Dogtown'; we haven't any better name for it."

"All right," laughed Jack. "I'll put it down."

"Mr. Fannin," said Jack, after a pause, "I was thinking last night of the hammer that that old Siwash was using to mend his canoe. That was a regular primitive implement, wasn't it?"

"Yes," said Fannin; "you often see the Indians still using these hammers. I suppose to an Indian they are just as good, and maybe lots better, than a white man's hammer."

"Yes," said Jack, "I don't see why they shouldn't be; but while the hammer was old-fashioned and primitive, the strip of tin which he was nailing over the cracks in the bottom of the canoe and the tacks were modern. Where do you suppose he got them?"

"Why, from a trading schooner, of course," said Fannin. "There are three or four small schooners that sail up and down the coast here, trading with the Indians for oil and fish, and a little fur, and the chances are that the tin came from some old tin can thrown overboard by such a schooner, and that the tacks were bought from it. Of course it may be that these people have been to Comux or even to Nanaimo."

"That salmon spear is interesting, too," said Jack, "and I hope we'll have a chance to get some food with it."

"These spears," replied Fannin, "are very useful to these people. This one, as you see, is about sixteen feet long, the main shaft being about twelve feet and the two prongs about four. It is a well finished tool and rather attractive to the eye, wrapped as it is with the neat strips of bark about the ends of the shaft. That flat handle with the deep notches at the upper end, for two of the fingers of the man who is to throw it, give a good hold. Then the two prongs at the other end bound firmly to the shaft, and tapering to a point below, and slightly diverging, make a good implement for throwing into a school of fish; but the interesting part of the thing is the way the spear heads are fastened on to make it effective. You see the line looped about the shaft close above the point where the diverging prongs leave it, that each end of the line is long enough to reach clear to the end of the prongs, and that to each extremity of this line is attached a spear point. The socket which slips on the sharpened end of the prong is made of the horn of the deer, or of the mountain goat, or even of bone; and the piercing point is either a sharpened nail or some other sharp bit of iron lashed to the socket with a fishing line or a strand of kelp. When the spear is to be used, the heads are slipped on to the points of the prongs, and are held in position by the tension of the cord, which is so short that some little effort is needed to slip the socket on to the point. When a salmon has been deeply pierced by the iron point, his struggles slip the socket off the prong and the fish struggles about for a few moments at the end of the cord until he is so exhausted that he can be brought to the surface of the water and lifted into the canoe. If the point were firmly attached to the prongs the attempt to haul a vigorous fish to the surface might very well result in the pulling out of the spear point and the loss of the fish."

All the day long the canoe moved slowly down the Inlet, stemming the flood tide which at times made them all work at their paddles with an energy that no one of the crew greatly enjoyed. Before them the snowy tops of the mountains and the blue glaciers looked cool and inviting, but no breath of air ruffled the smooth surface of the Inlet, and the fierce rays of the sun, both direct and reflected from the water, scorched them all day long. About the middle of the afternoon, as they were passing a point opposite Moorsam Bluffs, a level spot was found, covered with forest. A pleasant brook ran down here, and the spot looked like an attractive camping place. When they landed they found evidences that it was one favored by the Indians of the Inlet, for there were here relics of many a camp. Piles of stone blackened by fire, white heaps of the bones of the deer and mountain goat, decayed vegetation and fragments of discarded clothing and skins, worn-out implements, a tiny baby basket or Indian cradle, and many other articles left by former occupants were scattered about over the ground, and showed that the Indians often stopped there and sometimes remained for a considerable time. In fact there were so many evidences of human occupancy that it was agreed that some other spot which had not been quite so much frequented by Indians would be a better location for their camp; and moving a few hundred yards further down the Inlet they found such a place at the mouth of the boisterous brook which here tumbled into the salt water.

Here Jack and Hugh and Fannin, finding a good beach, took a plunge in the salt water, and while thus engaged found that the little bay was alive with salmon. On shouting this to the others the Indians put off in the canoe, and for half an hour Hamset perseveringly threw the salmon spear into the school of fish that were breaking everywhere about the canoe. For a few minutes Jack and Hugh watched him; but as he failed to secure anything, they soon grew tired, and at length went ashore into the camp. Half an hour later the canoe returned to the shore, and the Indians had three good-sized fish to show for their efforts.

"Well," said Hugh, "from the number of fish that seemed to be out there in that little piece of water, I should think these fellows might have loaded the canoe with them in this time."

"Yes," said Fannin, "that's true; but it's wonderful how much room there is in the water around a salmon, and then you have got to hit the fish just right or else you will not drive the spear into him. If you are not used to seeing salmon you will think there's an awful lot of fish out there; but you just ought to see them in some of the rivers in the Province here. Why, sometimes they are so thick that you literally can't see the bottom for their backs. A good many people, who have never been on a stream during the salmon run, think that the stories about their abundance must be lies; but they are not. You can't exaggerate their numbers. I have seen people go down to the stream with a pitchfork, and throw out the fish they wanted onto the bank, just as you would lift a load of turnips on a fork if you thrust it into a pile of them. When the fish are running, of course, the bears and eagles have no trouble at all in catching all they want. Even the hogs go down to the stream and take out the fish. In fact, during the salmon run, and for some months after it, settlers who expect to kill their hogs keep them shut up; because, if they are allowed to feed on the salmon the flesh becomes flavored with fish to a point where people can't eat it. That sounds like a pretty good story too, but it's true. Later in the season, when the dead fish are in the streams,--and there are always many of them,--the hens of the settlers eat them, and often eat so many that their eggs can't be used on account of the fishy taste. That's another good one, but it's true."

"Well," said Hugh, "those stories sound pretty hard to believe, but I guess they are true. Of course we've always heard about buffaloes, and how many there used to be, and I expect I've told stories to people who had never seen them, about the numbers of these animals that sounded just as hard to believe as your stories do to me. It don't trouble me a little bit to believe what you told me about the taste of the flesh of these animals. Everybody knows, I reckon, that the food that an animal eats gives its flesh good flavor or bad flavor."

"Yes," said Jack, "that's so, of course. I have heard my uncle tell a great many times about some kinds of ducks living up on Long Island and eating little clams and other shell-fish, and being strong and fishy to the taste, while the same ducks, when they go down South and live in water that is fresh or nearly so, eating nothing but grass and roots, are as delicate and fine flavored as can be."

"That's gospel truth, son," said Hugh, "and you see the same thing out on the plains and in the mountains. Take it early in the season, before the grass begins to grow, and the first green thing that grows out of the earth is a wild onion. If you kill, up at the edge of the mountains, a buffalo or a mountain sheep, just after these onions have sprung up, you can hardly eat the meat."

"Yes," remarked Jack, "and I have heard, too, that the milk of the cows is often flavored with these onions."

"I know that's so," assented Fannin.

"But what gets me," said Hugh, "is the multitude of these salmon that there must be. Of course we haven't seen many of them; but from what you say, Fannin, they just crowd every river that comes into the salt water, and there are an awful lot of rivers along this coast."

The camp had a great dinner that night. The Indians transfixed a large fat salmon with a stick, which was thrust into the ground so that it overhung the fire at an angle. There the salmon roasted until it was done, and then its bones were picked as clean as any bear could have picked them. A smaller salmon, slim and red fleshed, was cut into steaks and fried, and there was unlimited deer meat. It was all very delicious; and after the meal was over the party sat around the fire for a little while, too lazy to talk, and then went to bed.

The next morning, before the canoe was loaded, Jack spent an hour or two leaning over its side, and watching the movements of the different marine animals at work in the shallow water near the shore. There were hundreds of little crabs, the largest about the size of a silver half-dollar, clambering over the stones like so many goats, and apparently feeding on the vegetable matter that grew on them. They walked slowly here and there, plucking the food with their curiously swollen white claws, using the right and left claw alternately, so that while one was holding the food to the mouth the other was gathering a fresh supply. They seemed wholly absorbed in what they were doing. Their jaws moved continuously, and they had a most businesslike and methodical aspect. The larger crabs were of a deep purple color, while the smaller ones were mostly dull, grayish green, a protective color which corresponded very closely with that of the stones on which they fed. They seemed to get along peaceably; though once in a while, if a small crab came too near a large one, the latter would make a threatening dash at the little fellow, which would at once retreat with many defensive demonstrations of its claws.

Fixed to the sides of many of the stones were the curved white tubes of marine worms; some of them deserted and empty; while from the mouths of others there protruded a cluster of deep crimson tentacles, the whole looking like some beautiful white-stemmed flower. If the red cluster was cautiously approached and touched it instantly withdrew into the tube which then appeared empty. But five minutes later a small spot of red began slowly to appear, far down in the tube; and gradually drawing nearer the aperture, the arms would be gently thrust out, and the animal would resume its flower-like appearance. On certain stones and rocks were great numbers of barnacles, which were not the least interesting of the living creatures Jack saw. At those stages of the tide when the water did not reach them their shells remained closed, and showed no signs of life; but as soon as they were fairly covered by the water, each little pair of valves opened, and the tiny arms were extended and waved through the air with a regular motion which ceased only when they had grasped some morsel of food that was floating by. When this took place the arms were quickly drawn into the shell, and the valves closed; and for some little time the animal remained quiet. On the beach and in the water were many sea urchins and starfish, some of which moved about over the bottom. Both progressed slowly; the sea urchins by a continuous motion of the long spines, with which their shells are covered; and though the animal's rate of advance could hardly be noticed if one kept looking at it, Jack found that they did move, and seemed to be capable of quite long journeys. Jack took up one of these sea urchins to look at its under side, and found that it had a continuous movement of the mouth and soft parts, as though striving to obtain air. When he put it into the water again he placed it on its back, on a flat stone, and was interested in seeing it turn over and right itself by the same quiet, but continuous, movement of the spines.

The starfish moved much more rapidly than the sea urchins. They seemed to drag themselves along by some slight up and down motion of their arms, and also by hooking the ends of these arms around the angles of the rocks, thus pulling themselves forward for a short distance. Starfish were very common along this coast, and were of all sizes and colors. Jack had noticed them brown, black, yellow, orange, red, and purple. They ranged in size from the diameter of a five-cent piece up to ten inches across the arms. They seemed most abundant on the shore just about low water mark, but were by no means confined to this situation.

Often they were seen clinging to the rocks where they had been left bare by the tide; and sometimes a great cluster of the large red or purple ones were collected in an angle of the rock, showing against a background of shining black mussels and brown seaweed with very striking effect.

A light breeze blowing down the Inlet made it possible to set the sail, and the canoe slipped rapidly along over the water. The tide was ebbing, and their progress was good; but at length a turn in the fiord shut off the breeze, the paddles were called for, and they had several hours of hard paddling. The canoe was passing so close to the shore that the mountains on that side were hidden from view, while on the other shore the hills were low and not especially picturesque. Jack kept looking at one point after another, hoping that each would be the last, and that when the one ahead was rounded he would see the broad waters of the beautiful bay into which they had looked some days before toward the Twin Falls. After several disappointments he said to Hugh:

"Hugh, this reminds me of riding over the plains. I have been watching these points, hoping that each would be the last, just as when riding over the prairies I always looked at the hill ahead of me and thought that from that hill I should be able to see some distance; but there was always another one just beyond."

"Yes," said Hugh, "I know just what the feeling is, and I guess everybody does who has ever travelled the prairies. Why, even the Indians tell about some man who prophesied to them long ago, when dogs were their only animals, about a time when they would get horses. He said that when they got horses they would always be on the move, and that they would ride up on a hill and see another hill beyond; and then they would want to get to that one to see what was beyond it; and so would keep going all the time, and never be quiet."

It was the middle of the afternoon when the last point was rounded and they came in sight of the Twin Falls. Even then an hour or two was needed to bring the canoe to what looked like a good camping place, near the falls. When they reached the shore they were disappointed, for the timber was so thick and high, and the cliff over which the water fell was so nearly straight up and down, that it was impossible to obtain any view of the cataract from the land. But by pushing out a few hundred yards from the shore its whole majesty was seen. Two wide streams of water flow on either side of an island in the river, plunging over the cliffs, and falling quite five hundred feet before they meet with any check; then from here are two more leaps of three hundred feet each, and then other lesser ones of two hundred or one hundred and fifty feet. The stream falls between dark green walls of Douglas firs on either side; and the rocky face of the mountains is entirely hidden. Before the water strikes the rocks it has become spray, and from each little bench thin clouds of white mist rise to the treetops and float off with the wind. The dull roar of the Falls is almost deafening. Sometimes it sinks to the muttering of distant thunder, and then rises louder than before, sounding like the boom of heavy guns in the distance. Close over the tops of the trees they saw, as they first approached the spot, a splendid white-headed eagle, swinging about on motionless wing. Now and then, as he turned, the bright sunlight flashed upon his head and tail, and caused them to shine like silver, while his dark body looked black against the sky. Unmoved by the tumult below him, and unshaken by the blasts that were now causing the mighty trees to bend their heads, he floated to and fro in his broad eyrie, the only living thing seen in all the wide landscape.

On landing, it took some time to fix the tent and cut the fir and hemlock boughs which were needed to make comfortable the uneven ground where the beds were to be spread. But after this had been done Jack took his rifle and declared that he was going up the hill to see what he could see. Hugh said that he would go too, and the two set off.

From the spot where the camp had been pitched a broad, well-beaten trail led up to the mountains. But this soon grew very steep. Great boulders had to be climbed over or gone around. Great green leaves and a slippery moss hid the ground and made it difficult to know just where they were stepping. More than once Jack, who was in the lead, narrowly escaped an ugly fall. Presently the trail gave out or was lost, and then the easiest mode of progress was to walk along the fallen tree trunks, which in many places lay piled high on one another, as a lot of jackstraws would look if thrown down at random. Even such a road presented some difficulty; for sometimes a span of the bridge would be missing, and it would be necessary to descend to the ground and clamber up among the rocks.

At last the first leap of the falls was reached, but from here very little could be seen, for the foliage and mist entirely obscured the view. Further up, for a hundred yards on either side of the stream, the ground and the foliage were damp and dripping from the heavy spray, and the wet moss which covered everything made climbing difficult and even dangerous. The forest along the stream was open, and Jack and Hugh pursued their way, sometimes being obliged to climb up walls that were almost vertical. Still higher up the forest began to give way to little open parks, and before very long the appearance of the sky above them showed that the timber was either much lower or entirely absent. They were not greatly surprised, then, when after a little time they came out of the forest into an open country, in the midst of which was a high, naked, rocky hill.

At different points on the hill they saw a number of white objects which they recognized as goats. They did not feel that they needed any goats, but these animals were still sufficiently new to Hugh and Jack to make them wish to see them again at closer range. A little manoeuvring took them out of the sight of the goats, and they began to climb the hill. After they had ascended some distance they crept out onto a rocky point and could see, above, below, and on each side of them, small groups of these animals feeding on the ledges and steep slopes. Quite close to them was an old goat, about which was playing a little kid, not a beautiful or graceful object, but one very curious in its clumsiness and its high spirits. It ran about its mother before and behind, sometimes climbing a little way up on a steep bank, and then throwing itself down on its side, rolling over and over until a level place was reached, when it would rise, and after a rest climb up the slope and repeat the performance. The mother paid little attention to her young one, but fed slowly along, constantly approaching closer and closer to Jack and Hugh, who commented on the goats' odd appearance and their no less extraordinary actions.

Suddenly Hugh stretched out his hand and caught Jack's arm and whispered to him: "Look at that lion!" Jack looked, but could see nothing, and before he could ask the question "Where?" a great yellow animal flashed out from the top of a bank close to the old goat, flew through the air, and fell upon the back of the kid, which sank to the ground with a low, whining cry. Instantly the mother whirled on her hind legs, and with a swiftness hardly to be believed of such a clumsy-looking animal, plunged at the panther crouching on the ground over the kid and drove her short horns deep into his side back of the shoulder. The force of the blow knocked the animal to the ground, but he turned, bent the fore part of his body round and grasped the goat by the back and side with both paws, and seized her body with his teeth back of the fore shoulder. The goat seemed to draw back a few inches, and then made another plunge forward, driving her horns into her enemy again. The panther loosened his hold on the goat, struggled to his feet, and staggered a half dozen steps away, and then fell over on his side. The mother goat made no effort to pursue him, but nosed at the dying kid, as if trying to induce it to get on its feet again. On her side were a few drops of blood, where the panther's claws had scratched her, but on neither side of the ridge of the back where he had clawed her with the other foot and had bitten her was there to be seen any evidence of an injury.

This had all happened so quickly that the watchers had no time to comment on it nor to shoot. When it was over they sat up and looked at each other, no longer thinking to hide from the goat.

"That's a wonderful thing to have seen, isn't it?" said Jack.

"Yes," said Hugh. "I confess it beats me. It reminds me a little bit of that story I was telling you the other night about the buffalo bull that killed the bear. Who'd have thought that that goat could have killed that panther. I've always heard that these mountain goats were great hands to fight, and that they didn't know enough to be afraid of anything; but I never expected to see it myself as we have seen it."

"But where did that lion come from?" said Jack. "I didn't see him until he jumped."

"He was lying right on that ledge over there when I first saw him, crouched flat all except his head, which was lifted high enough to just see over the bank. As soon as I saw him I grabbed you, and a minute after he jumped," explained Hugh.

"Well," said Jack, "we want to take his hide back with us to camp. I expect he's dead, all right."

"Yes," said Hugh, "I guess he's dead, but what about the old goat? She's going to stay with that kid of hers, and I surely don't want to walk up any too close to her. She's likely to treat us the way she did the panther."

"Yes, I guess so," said Jack; "and, of course, we don't want to kill her, though, to be sure, her head would go mighty well with that panther skin."

"I'll tell you," said Hugh, "let's go round a little bit and get above her and roll some rocks down, and perhaps she will walk off."

This suggestion was carried out, and the old goat at length was induced to leave her kid and slowly go off, finally disappearing over a ledge at some distance. Jack and Hugh went down to look at the panther. They found in his side, just back of the shoulder, four round perforations, and discovered that four of his ribs had been broken where the goat's head had struck him. After they had skinned him they found that the beast's lungs had been pierced three times by the goat's horns and the heart once. It was no wonder that the cat had died.

"I suppose," said Hugh, "that we might as well take that kid along with us. It's eatable, and the Indians probably will like it just as well as deer meat."

"All right," said Jack. "If you will take the skin, I will take the kid."

"Come on, then," said Hugh. "We had better hurry, it's getting on toward dark; and the road down this hill is a rough one."

By the time that they reached the trail below it was quite dark, but they met with no accident. When they reached camp again they had an interesting story for Fannin. The Indians, too, gathered around and asked the meaning of the holes in the panther's skin, remarking that they did not look like bullet holes, and there were no places where the balls had come out. Fannin explained to them what had taken place. The Indians nodded sagely, and Hamset said to Fannin: "Once before I've heard of a thing like this. I have also heard of a goat fighting a bear that had killed her kid, and driving it away. These white sheep are great fighters. I have seen them killed with many marks on their skins, showing where they had been cut by the horns of others they had been fighting with; and I have seen two which had in their hams the horns of other goats that had been broken off in the flesh. They fight a good deal. One of my relations once told me that he had crept up close to a goat, and rose up to shoot the animal. When it saw him, it put all its hair forward and rushed at him, but he killed it before it reached him."

Jack, Hugh, and Fannin spent some time that night over the panther skin, cleaned it and laced it over a frame where it might dry. Whether it would dry or spoil would, of course, depend upon the weather of the next few days. Bright, dry weather with some wind would surely cure the skin; but continued damp weather, which would keep it moist, would as surely spoil it.

The camp ground that they occupied to-night had been used by Indians as a stopping place, and lying on the beach were a number of bones. One of the most oddly shaped ones was picked up by Fannin, who asked Jimmie what animal it belonged to. The boy did not hesitate, but answered in Chinook, "_Tuicecolecou_" (porpoise neck). Jack and Hugh were mightily astonished at this identification, but Fannin pointed out to them that this bone, which is made up of all of the vertebræ of the neck grown together so as to form a single bone, is most characteristic, and could scarcely have escaped the observation of the Indians, who kill great numbers of these marine mammals.