CHAPTER VII

SEAMMUX IN DANGER

They were early astir the next morning. It took but a little while to get breakfast, and to load the canoes, which were soon on their way up the North Arm. By noon they had reached a point at the foot of the large island near its head, above which rose the great bare peak which they had seen two or three days ago, and on which lay a large bank of snow. Here they landed. They unloaded the canoes, and, taking them out of the water, carried them a little distance into the forest and covered them with branches. Then the blankets and provisions were made up into back loads, and, the Indians bearing most of the burdens, the party set out to climb the mountain. It was a long, steep clamber, and it was not until five and a half hours later that they reached the border of the timber, from which the unwooded summit rose still higher.

Seammux advised making camp on the edge of the timber, declaring that a camp-fire made higher up on the mountains, where the goats ranged and fed, would be likely to frighten them; and before camp was made and supper cooked and eaten, darkness settled down, so that there was no opportunity that night of seeing anything in the hunting grounds. The climb had been a difficult one, and especially hard on the white men, whose muscles were unused to this sort of exercise. There was no disposition for conversation, and all hands sought their blankets soon after the meal was eaten.

The next morning they were up by daylight; and after breakfast, leaving the timber behind them, started toward the summit, passing up a beautiful grassy swale, toward the higher land. It was absolutely still, except for the occasional call of a gray jay in the timber or the chatter of a flock of cross-bills.

Just before they reached the summit a dense fog settled down over the mountains and at once cut off every distant view. The air was cool, the fog heavy and wet, and, as it was useless to travel through this obscurity, they halted and sat about waiting for the air to clear. As they sat there, impatiently hoping that the mist would clear away, suddenly out of the fog, and close by them flew two birds, which looked to Jack like cedar birds, but cedar birds bigger than he had ever seen before.

"Bohemian Waxwings," said Fannin, as he grasped his shot-gun. He rose to his feet to follow them, when the older Indian spoke to him warningly, and after an exchange of a few sentences Fannin sat down again.

"What is it, Mr. Fannin?" asked Jack. "Are you going to try to get them?"

"No," said Fannin; "I wanted to, but Seammux here says if I fire a shot it will scare the goats, and we shall not see one to-day. I don't believe it; but on the other hand, I don't know half as much about goats as the Indian does; and as we came up here to get goats, I am not going to do anything that might interfere with our getting them."

"Of course I don't know anything about goats," said Jack; "but I've heard that they are very gentle and not easily disturbed by noise. That's what the Indians have told me, but of course we can't tell how true it is."

"Yes," said Hugh, "the Blackfeet and Kutenais all say that you can fire many shots at a goat; and others, not far off, within easy ear-shot of the firing, will pay no attention to the noise."

"Well," said Fannin, "we came up here to get goats, and those are what we must try for."

It was nearly noon when a light breeze began to blow, and the fog seemed to grow thinner; and a little later, without the least warning, the great bank of fog which had hung over the mountains rolled away, and the sun burst forth from a cloudless sky. They could now see that they were on the crest of a mountain ridge that separated the valley of the North Arm of Burrard Inlet and Salmon River from that of Seymour Creek to the west. The divide they were on was broken and uneven, made up of sharp ridges, deep ravines, and rounded, smooth and sometimes almost level stretches. Everywhere on the high divide, except on the tops of the rocky ridges, the ground was covered with heather, soft and yielding under foot, yet good to walk over. As they moved along the ridge, they could see at almost every step fresh signs of goats. None were in sight, but this meant nothing; for although the country was open and the eye could cover miles of territory, in any direction, yet the ground was so broken that goats might be anywhere close to them and still be out of sight.

After a little while Seammux left the party and started down the side of the ridge toward Seymour Creek; but he had hardly gone two hundred yards when he dropped to the ground, clambered up a short distance toward them, and made signs for them to come.

"There," said Fannin, "Seammux sees something; I hope it's in a place where we can get to it."

"I hope so," said Jack, "and that it's not too far down the hill. Anything that we kill down there of course has got to be carried up again."

"Well," said Hugh, "the easiest way to find out where it is, is to go down to the Indian; but go carefully; this plant under foot is mighty slippery, and you don't want to fall down and break your gun or knock off the sights."

They scrambled down to the Indian, who, as they approached, made signs for them to be cautious. When they had reached him, he pointed to the top of the bank below him, and they advanced to look over it, supposing that they might see goats, three or four hundred yards away, that would have to be carefully stalked. But instead of that, when they peered cautiously over it, there were four of the white beasts placidly feeding on the hillside, within thirty yards of them. The curious animals stood knee-deep in the heather, and seemed to be carefully picking out certain plants which grew here and there among it. Their horns were sharp, shining black, and directed a little backward; and on each chin was a beard, reminding one of that of a buffalo, and easily explaining the common name "goat" given to them. The animals seemed so unsuspicious that Fannin hardly felt like firing at them; but to Jack, who had never before killed a goat, no such thought occurred. He was anxious to secure his animal. There were four shots, for the young Indian, Sillicum, carried a musket, though Seammux had none; and it was but a moment before the four goats lay stretched on the mountain side.

"Well," said Jack, as they stood over the animals which the Indians were now preparing to skin, "that is about the simplest piece of hunting that I ever did. These goats don't seem to be much more suspicious than so many buffalo."

"No," said Hugh, "they are certainly gentle beasts, and that's just what I've always heard about them from the Indians."

"Well," said Jack, "now that I have killed one goat, I don't feel as if I cared very much to kill any more."

"No," said Mr. Fannin, "there's not much sport in it. You must remember that these goats are scarcely ever disturbed, for no white men ever come here to hunt; and I don't believe the Indians come once in five years. It's very possible that these goats never saw a man and never heard a shot before to-day."

By this time the Indians had dragged three of the goats to a level spot, where they could work, and then went off to bring the fourth one. Seammux had just seized it by the hind leg to pull it up to this level place, when suddenly the goat came to life, sprang to its feet, and began to run down the hill, dragging Seammux after it. The Indian was plucky and would not let go, and his companion hurried to his aid. The ground grew more and more steep, and presently the Indian and the goat fell and began to roll over. Fannin, fearing lest Seammux might get a bad fall, shouted: "_Kloshe nannitch_ (Look out), Seammux." Seammux loosened his hold of the goat, and tried to stop himself by grasping at the grass and weeds; but his momentum was too great. The goat continued to roll down the hill, and disappeared from sight; and Seammux, rolling after the goat, also disappeared.

"I am afraid he may have had a bad fall," said Fannin, as he started running down the hill toward where the Indian had vanished. Sillicum had seated himself on the ground at the top of the steep place, and was slowly hitching himself down toward what seemed to be the edge of a cliff. Hugh and Jack were close behind Fannin. When they reached the top of the steep place, which was only fifteen or twenty feet high, Hugh said: "Hold on here; I'll anchor myself to this little tree, and reach my gun down; and you, Fannin, let yourself down by it as far as you can, and reach your gun down, and Jack can get to the edge. He's the lightest of the lot."

"Will he be sure to hold on?" inquired Fannin.

"Yes," said Hugh. "Don't bother about Jack, he'll do it." It took but a moment for Hugh to pass his arm around the tree; and, holding his rifle by the muzzle, he stretched it down the slope, and Fannin quickly passed down. Grasping the rifle above the stock, he reached his gun down nearly to the edge of the slope. Jack quickly scrambled down beside them, and, holding on by Fannin's gun, at last found himself on the edge of the sheer cliff; and looking over, he saw, but a few feet below him, caught in the top of a fir tree that grew in a crevice of the rock, Seammux, looking anxiously up at him. Below him there was a fall of a hundred feet or more, and on the rocks, at the bottom of the cliff, lay the carcase of the goat.

"Hurrah!" said Jack. "Hold on, Seammux, we'll get you up all right!" Then he called back to Hugh and Fannin: "He's caught in a small tree, not more than ten feet below where I am, but I can't reach him. If we get a rope we'll have him out of that in two minutes."

"All right," said Fannin, "that's easily done. Sillicum and I will go back to the camp and fetch the guys on the tent, and any other rope that's there. It's only a little way, and we'll be back in fifteen minutes. What sort of footing have you, Jack?"

"Perfectly good," said Jack; "there's a lot of gravel and broken stone here, on which there is no danger of slipping. I could stay here for a week."

"Well," said Hugh, "make a safe place before you let go Fannin's gun; and then stop there in sight of the Indian. It will make him feel easier, that way."

Jack stamped out a place where he could stand and even sit, and spoke a few words to Seammux, though the latter, of course, did not understand what he was saying.

Fannin called out to the Indian, in a loud voice, telling him that they were going for a rope and would soon have him out of his trouble. Seammux shouted back. Fannin and Sillicum climbed up the steep hill; and, leaving their guns behind them, started on a trot for the camp.

To those who were watching at the edge of the cliff, they seemed gone a long time, but it was really only fifteen or twenty minutes before they came back again, each carrying a coil of rope.

"Good!" said Hugh. "I'm glad you've got back. It seemed a long time to us watching here, and a good deal longer to Seammux. How much rope have you got? Why, that's bully! There's forty feet in one of those coils, and as the rope is a little light, we'll just double it."

He knotted one end of each coil about the little tree, to which he had been holding; and, tossing the other ends to Jack, said: "Now, son, double this rope and then throw it over the Indian, and tell him to put it under his arms. How's the edge of that rock there? Is it sharp and likely to cut the rope, or does the soil and grass overhang it?"

Jack knotted the rope, and called back, saying: "No, there's no sharp edge to be seen; the earth and the grass run right out to the edge of the cliff and seem to overhang a little."

"Very well," said Hugh. "Pass the rope to the Indian, and then tell us when you are ready for us to begin to pull up."

Jack called to Seammux and made a sign that he was going to throw the rope to him. Then tossing it out, it passed over the Indian's head and one shoulder, and was caught on one of his arms. Jack motioned to Seammux how to fix the rope, and he did so; and then the men above took in all the slack, so that the rope was taut. Then Seammux slowly and carefully began to turn around in the tough bending tree that held him, and to work in toward the face of the cliff; and the men above began slowly to haul in on the rope. There was a moment or two of anxiety, while the rope at the edge of the cliff could be seen to swing and twist a little; and then the hand and arm of the Indian appeared above the cliff, and presently the head. In a moment more he lay with his breast on its edge, clutching the weeds and grass with a vise-like grasp. After a moment's rest, he wriggled on and raised himself; and, helped by the rope, in another moment he stood beside Jack, unharmed, but panting hard.

"Now, son," said Hugh, "take hold of that rope and come up here." Jack did so, and was immediately followed by Seammux. All climbed up to a level place and threw themselves on the ground, Seammux still panting from his exertion, and the others greatly relieved that the danger was over.

"Well, friend," said Fannin in Chinook, addressing the Indian, "you wanted that goat so badly, why did you go only part way with him; why didn't you keep on to the bottom?"

"Ha!" said Seammux. "I didn't want the goat. I thought that I could keep him from having a bad fall, but I held on too long. I couldn't stop him, and when I wanted to stop myself, I couldn't do that, either."

"Well," said Fannin, "you 're a lucky man. You must have a powerful helper who caused you to roll over the cliff just where that small tree stuck out."

"You speak truth," said Seammux. "I shall make a sacrifice to that person when I get back to my house."

After resting a little, they climbed farther up the hill to where the three goats lay, and the Indians began to skin them. They were the first goats that Jack had seen, and he was much interested in examining them. He wondered at the short, sharp, shiny horns, and the short, strong legs, the great hoofs with their soft pad-like cushions on the soles; and the great dew claws, which were worn and rounded, showing that they were of use to the animal in climbing up and down the hills. Hugh pointed out to him a curious gland close behind the base of the horn; and when he smelled of it, as advised to do, he was almost overpowered by the strong odor of musk that came from it.

"Well now, son," said Hugh, "is there no animal that these goats remind you of?"

"There's one," said Jack, "and I thought of it when I was pulling the trigger.

"They remind me a good lot of the buffalo. Look at the hump on the back, the low hind quarters, the legs with the long hair down to the knees, the shaggy coat and beard. These are all things that suggest buffalo, yet I suppose this animal here is not closely related to the buffalo. In fact, I am sure they are not; because my uncle has told me that they were antelope; but I am sure they look more like buffalo than they do like the antelope we see down on the prairie."

"You are right," said Hugh. "They look to me a good deal more like buffalo than antelope; but then Mr. Sturgis has talked to me about antelope, too; and he says that this antelope that we have here on the plains, isn't a regular antelope, but is a kind of an animal by itself, that hasn't got any close relations anywhere else in the world. He says that the real antelopes are found mostly in Europe and Asia and Africa, and that these here goats are the only regular antelope that we've got in America."

"Yes," said Jack, "that's so; that's just what he has told me, and I expect he knows."

"I reckon he does, son," said Hugh.

"Yes," said Fannin, "that's all gospel, I expect. I don't know much about these things myself, except what I've read in books, but I have read just that."

By this time the Indian had skinned and cut up two of the goats, and Fannin said: "Well, let's leave the Indians here and go on a little way farther, and see what else we can find." He picked up his shot-gun and said to Seammux: "Carry my rifle, Seammux, so that if you see any game you may have something to shoot with." Then, Fannin carrying the shot-gun, the three began to climb toward the summit, working along just below the ridge.

They had not gone very far, when close to the top of another ridge, running out from the main divide, they discovered a large billy-goat walking along the very edge of the cliff. He was some distance from them, and though they were in plain sight and made no effort to conceal themselves, he paid no attention to them. When they had come within three or four hundred yards of him, they sat down to watch him. He was feeding along, walking slowly, and stopping now and then to nip some plant which he liked. Soon he turned sharply down the almost vertical cliff, and worked along slowly and without any apparent caution, farther down, about thirty or forty yards to where grew a large broad leafed plant, which, Fannin said, the Indians reported to be a favorite food of the animal. Here he stopped and began feeding.

As they watched him, and commented on his slow and clumsy, yet absolutely confident movements, a loud hoarse call, almost like that of a raven rapidly repeated, sounded on the mountain side just above them. All turned their heads to look, and saw a flock of eight grouse standing with outstretched necks, gazing at them.

"Ptarmigan!" said Fannin. "I must have these." Loading and firing in quick succession, he shot the eight birds. "I hope they are white tails," he said. "These are the first that I have ever seen, in this part of the country;"--and he clambered up to gather his prize.

"Look at that goat!" cried Jack; and they turned their heads to look at the animal, which was still feeding on the very edge of the cliff in the same unconcerned manner as before the shots had been fired. Yet he could not have failed to hear them, for the Indians, who were much farther off, afterward spoke of hearing the reports.

The birds were not the white-tailed ptarmigan, as had been hoped. Besides that, they were in the last stage of moult; the plumage was worn and ragged, and they were hardly fit to skin, Fannin said. But it was interesting to Fannin and to Jack to have found them on these mountains.

Leaving the goat still enjoying his meal, our friends pushed on. They climbed a high peak from which the whole range was visible toward the north and the south, and far off to the south the two Indians were seen apparently approaching some game.

Before either had fired a shot, a heavy fog obscured the whole scene; but through it, a little later, came the sound of shot after shot until nine had been counted, and Hugh remarked: "Sounds like a battle down there." They learned later that Seammux had fired nine shots at one goat before getting it, and his expenditure of ammunition was the cause of more than one joke at his expense.

By this time having had all the hunting of goats that they wanted, they decided to return to the camp. Before reaching it they were joined by the two Indians, each carrying on his shoulders a heavy load of goat skins and meat. They had almost reached the camp, and were resting on the top of the highest knoll above it, when Seammux, whose eyes were constantly roving over the country, pointed in the direction of Seymour Creek and said: "I think that's a bear." In the bottom of the ravine, about three quarters of a mile from where they were, some dark objects were seen, and the glasses showed these to be a bear and three good-sized cubs. There were hills on either side of the animals, and to approach them was not difficult. Yet the very easiness of the hunting took away from its pleasure. The animals were unsuspicious; the cover good; there were three good rifles. A short stalk brought the hunters close to the bears.

Fannin said: "Jack, you kill the old one, and we'll take the cubs. I will whistle, and when she looks up, you shoot." It all happened according to schedule, and sooner than it takes to tell it the four bears lay dead. That night there was plenty of fresh meat in camp. A side of young bear ribs was roasted by Hugh, somewhat as they used to roast deer or buffalo ribs on the plains, and they were pronounced excellent by all hands. There was abundant broiled goat meat, which was deemed good by the Indians; but somewhat lacking in flavor by the white men. After the meal was over and the pipes were going, Mr. Fannin asked Jack his opinion of the day's sport.

"Well," said Jack, "there's lots of game here, it's a good hunting country, and it's full of interesting life, but the fault I have to find with it is that it's too easy to get your game. A man doesn't have to work hard enough. He's pretty sure that if he keeps his eyes open and uses ordinary precaution, he can approach close enough to these very gentle animals to get them every time. To my mind, half the fun of hunting anything is the uncertainty as to whether you are going to be successful or not. If every time you take your rifle and start out you are sure that you are going to get some game, there is no more interest in it than there is in killing a beef for food at the ranch, or in butchering hogs on a farm. Take away the element of uncertainty in hunting or fishing, and you have nothing left. An Indian who goes out to kill buffalo does not regard the getting of the meat as fun, but as hard work; just as you or I might feel that pitching hay or riding the range for wages was work."

"That's so, son; you've figured it out just right," said Hugh. "It is work. The Indian gets his pay in meat and the skins. The white man gets his pay in dollars and cents, so many of them a day or a month. Now, when the white man goes hunting, he does it with the idea that he is having fun, that he is doing something opposite from work; but when the Indian goes hunting he knows that he is working, and working hard. I suppose, maybe, it's just the difference between being a savage and being civilized."

"I agree with you, Jack," said Mr. Fannin, "that there's no fun whatever in hunting such as we've had to-day. Of course, if we were off on a trip and needed meat for food, we would be glad to kill game just for the purpose of eating it, but not for the fun of hunting. The more a man works for his game, the more difficult it is to get, the greater his satisfaction in his success.

"Well, to-morrow, I think, we can perhaps get down home again; and if we can, we'll start on the stage for Westminster the day after, and get to Victoria the following night. Then we can make our start for the North."