on her sex. So thought the young man as rose to his feet and waited in indescribe agitation for her next words. Afterrds when he tried to recall the emotions that strange moment it seemed to him that felt as a girl must feel when she listens to irst avowal of love. He could hear the ating of his heart; he knew that the color pt coming and going in his cheeks, he embled.

"Yes," she continued in her clear, sweet

tones, "it is fitting that I should marry. She hesitated a second and a lovely flush stained her face as she smiled brightly into his very eyes" and when my father comes back, you and he shall take me out into the world, and you will bring to me various friends of yours, chosen ones, even the flower of your acquaintance, men clothed with those attributes you specified. I will consider them all impartially and choose one of them for my husband."

Marshall Graham.

THERE are few regions more difficult to travel over than the unsettled portions of the Puget Sound basin, the timber is so heavy and the undergrowth so dense. Places less than ten miles apart are often separated as completely as if several hundred miles of open country lay between them. In fact little is generally known concerning the country outside of the government surveys.

For several years prior to the year 1881 the writer was almost continually traveling over different portions of western Washington. Most of this travel was on foot or in an open boat, and when on the land much of it was through regions where there were few or no settlers and trails, or means of determining one's course, except streams, mountains, or other natural land marks. When one is once accustomed to traveling in the forest these marks are all that is necessary to enable him to find his way; but it would be folly for one from an open country to attempt to penetrate these woods at all, unless in company with an efficient guide.

The Nootsack is the most northern river on the east side of Puget Sound. It drains most of Whatcom County, and its mouth is

north, or rather west, of the town of Whatcom. The north fork of the Nootsack has its rise on the north side of Mount Baker, the middle fork on its west side, while the southern slope of the mountain is drained by the south fork. The Skagit River is the largest river flowing into Puget Sound. It rises in British Columbia, north of Mount Baker, and flows east, southeast, south, southwest, and west. It drains every side of Mount Baker not drained by the Nootsack. Until 1880 it was supposed that no part of the south fork of the Nootsack approached within twenty-five miles of the Skagit; and most maps still represent the Skagit thus far south of the south fork of the Nootsack at the point of nearest approach. The Samish River flows into Bellingham Bay south of Whatcom. Most people supposed that it extended back to the main mountain range between the Skagit and the Nootsack. In fact, a short distance from salt water it divides, turns on itself, and does not pass beyond the foothills.

In 1880, Williamson, the pioneer settler of the upper Skagit valley, told me that he had traveled northward from his place

through a mountain pass, and had found a river, the Nootsack, as he supposed, which at that point was not over nine miles distant from the Skagit. Excepting what Indians had told him, this was the extent of his information. Williamson's hop ranch was located about one mile north of the river, not far from the Skagit coal mines, which are about forty miles from the mouth of the Skagit. In August, 1881, I made ready for a trip from Williamson's through this pass, and thence down this river to settlements.

Arriving at the hop ranch I found a large number of Indians busy picking hops, and tried to get one as a guide for the trip, but failed. One tall sinewy Indian, apparently an excellent hunter and woodsman, whose name was "Elk," was pointed out as the best guide; but he declined to go. He held his hands up so that the fingers of one hand lay at right angles across the fingers of the other, and explained that the way was impassable from fallen timber and tangled undergrowth. "Wake close! Hyu stick!" was his expressive remonstrance.

I therefore prepared to go alone. My outfit consisted of about ten days' food, a hunting knife and small revolver, and a piece of unbleached cotton cloth six feet wide by nine feet long and not over a pound in weight for a tent. As it was necessary to go as light as possible, I took no blankets; and as I was going to follow the river valley down to settlements, I did not consider a compass necessary.

It was noon before a start was made from the Williamson hop ranch. The route selected followed Williamson's Creek up into and through Williamson's Pass.

There was

a light drizzling rain, the kind so common on Puget Sound, at the time I started; but this all ceased when I reached the summit of the pass, some four miles north of Williamson's; and from there on, no evidences were visible of its having rained for several days. I reached the Nootsack River, and

made a distance of over a mile in trave along its bank, down stream, before I m camp, and the first day's tramp was ended

The place first reached on the Nootsai cannot be mistaken. It is a bluff of whi quartz gravel, over five hundred feet high. with the river running at the foot of i Williamson's Creek, flowing from the pas to the Skagit River, also has white quar gravel and black sand in its bed. Afte passing the summit of the pass a mountain valley is entered, which is closed in o every side by spurs from the southwes flank of Mount Baker. The mountains to the southwest of this valley are high enough to shut out the moist winds from the Sound, and to give it a climate and vegetable growth entirely different from the Skagit or the lower portion of the Nootsack. A few spruce trees are seen, but no cedar or fir. The timber on the bottoms, near the river, consists of scattering white pine, of huge dimensions, with alder and scattering vine maple undergrowth. On the benches. the timber consists of large white pine, growing thicker than that on the bottoms but of less size, and found amid dense hemlock thickets. The sides of the mountains are covered with almost clear white pine, but of still smaller growth. The mountain tops produce the genuine white fir, except that the sides and top of Mount Baker at the upper end of the valley are covered with eternal snow. From the top of the bluff, where the river is first reached, the view of Mount Baker is sublime, as it is there fully revealed to the eye in the stillness of the mountains, white-robed, solemn and grand. Fire has been through this valley, probably not far from the time of the great forest fires of 1868, and has killed many of the giant pines; but, on the bottoms, hundreds are still alive, of such size that a single tree, forty feet from the ground, would exceed sixty inches in diameter. The bodies of these trees run trim and clean, from eighty to one hundred feet from the

ground, to where the first limb or knot is found. On the benches the white pines would scale from thirty to fifty inches in diameter, forty feet from the ground; on the mountain sides most of them are under thirty inches in diameter. Individual claims of one hundred and sixty acres, could be selected, near the river bank, and on bench or bottom land, where a person could easily cut, from his single claim, five million feet of white pine saw logs.

In this valley I saw no traces of its ever having been visited by white men or Indians, except an occasional blaze on the trees; afterwards I noticed that these blazes seemed to extend from where settlements were left on the Skagit, to where they were reached on the lower Nootsack.

One of the first things I noticed on reaching the river was some very tall and rank timothy, with extra long heads, growing at the very water's edge. Close beside it were several elk tracks, which seemed to have been made only a few moments before.

That night the buzzing of a bee, imprisoned in a quantity of moss that I was using for a pillow, kept sleep away until the prisoner was found and released.

All the second day was spent in traveling down this valley. The chief obstacles were the dead alder limbs, which lay criss-cross in every direction, among the scattering vine maples and other underbrush. It was frequently necessary to wade the stream so as to walk on the open sand bars.

At the same time the "humpy salmon" were running. These are the least valuable of all the salmon tribe. When they leave salt water they soon cease to be fit for food. As they enter fresh water their backs begin to arch up or form a hump, hence their name. They also change their color and grow darker the farther they ascend the several streams. This far up the river their backs were coal black and humped, or rounded, so as to form a semi-circle from the head to the tail. These salmon com

pletely filled the streams, literally there were millions of them. On the riffles they were so thick that when I waded the stream they would dart between my legs and nearly trip me off my feet. They rooted like so many hogs among the bowlders and gravel making a noise that could be heard for a fourth of a mile. In going down the river I would frequently strike through the timber; and for quite a long distance, would be entirely out of sight of the water; but when these peculiar and not unpleasant sounds began to grow faint, I would approach nearer to the river bank. The constant motion of the bowlders and gravel produced by the working of the salmon on the riffles, gave out a sharp, metallic, ringing sound, which was softened by the musical murmur of the waters to a delightful wildwood harmony. The salmon worked away, half out of the water, digging in the gravel with their long, thin snouts, while their backs blistered in the sun, until the flesh would fairly fall from their bones; when, losing their strength, they would be swept by the swift current off the riffles, down the stream. As long as possible they would struggle to make headway up stream; but growing weaker rapidly they would soon drift ashore to die. The water was so clear that the fish could be seen, and one could see and watch all their motions. It was not an uncommon sight to see trout, splendid looking fellows from one to two feet in length, feeding on the torn and ragged backs of the still living but defenseless humpies, who in vain strove to get away from their active and merciless enemies.

Early during the forenoon of the third day I reached a place where the mountains closed in and formed a cañon, whose walls rose perpendicularly on each side of the river, some seven hundred feet. To get around this cañon it was necessary to climb a steep mountain, over one thousand feet high. After passing the summit of this,

the old Puget Sound climate, scenery, and vegetation was met again. The timber 'below the cañon was not only different in character from what it was above, but it was more dense. At first there was considerable cedar and hemlock, but this soon gave way to extra large and tall old growth yellow fir.

The river was very swift, and now became too deep to wade. Above the cañon elk trails had been common, and fresh elk tracks frequently seen; while below deer sign was common, but no traces of elk were visible. Bear were on the banks of the river by hundreds, feeding on the salmon. I saw none, but frequently heard them, and saw innumerable fresh bear tracks.

In fact, bear trails were almost the only ones to be had. Sometimes these appeared to have been as well traveled as a village sidewalk; but frequently, below the cañon, they would cease at the end of a hollow log, or would take one into a salmon brush, crabapple, or devil's club thicket. As Mr. Bear had no use for a trail over four feet high, none of these were cleared above that height through the dense underbrush; and thus to follow one of these trails, a man would frequently be compelled to go down on all fours. In other places the trail for a mile or more at a time would be so full of rotten fish that one could scarcely avoid stepping on them. Mr. Bear, finding it a good day for fishing, had evidently been catching them by wholesale, just for the fun of the thing; and as he could not eat them all, was compelled to leave them there in the trail.

On the forenoon of the fourth day the region of drifts and jams was reached. Above these the river was kept free by the swiftness of the current.

This same forenoon while walking on a well beaten trail, I heard a sound like the noise of children at play; then like that of drawing a canoe over the gravel and shoving it into the water. As I hurried on the noise

grew plainer, and now seemed to resemble the excited talk of several startled Indians; but the more I hurried, the faster these noises receded, and the farther off they seemed to be. Finally the trail led over a jam, across the head of a slough, and then, for about one-fourth of a mile on a gravel spit, until I despaired of overtaking my tillicums (Indian friends). I closely followed the retreating sound, however, for a mile or more, on a well-beaten path, till I reached the lower end of the gravel spit. I had been so certain that it was made by Indians, that I had made no examination of the fresh tracks in the trail to see whether they were made by the bare feet of Indians, or by bear's feet. But here I saw what made me almost wish I had not been so much in a hurry.

At the lower end of the spit lay a very large humpy salmon. A big mouthful had been bitten out of its back. It had so recently been taken out of the water that it was wet, and fresh blood was still running from its back. Between the lower end of

the spit and the river bank was a low sag covered with mud. In this soft mud were to be seen the fresh tracks of an enormous bear. At the same time a loud crashing was heard in the bushes, made by the rapidly retreating bear. I first looked to see that my cartridges were in good condition and then took out a rule and measured the bear tracks, made in the soft mud they could be exactly measured. The print was nine inches across the ball of the foot, and including the marks of the claws in the mud, thirteen inches long. An ordinary black bear makes a track from four to five inches wide and from seven to nine inches long. Around Mount Baker are found one or more species of grizzly bears, peculiar to that section. The Indians greatly dread an encounter with them. This track was evidently made by an extra large grizzly or cinnamon bear. On the afternoon of this day I reached a place where the river, during

This extended

I freshets, had ground-sluiced all the earth away from the roots of the trees and down some six feet to the gravel. over a region a mile in breadth by five miles in length. Overgrown yellow fir trees had once covered most of that section. Were there no jams below, this would be the hand logger's paradise; for on the gravel lay many million feet of sound fir timber, which could in that case be sawed up in summer and floated to the sea on the winter freshets. Immediately below this place, however, the jams for the first time extended clear across the river; and for the next twenty miles there is a jam across the river nearly every mile.

During the forenoon of the fifth day out I could see evidences of the country being occasionally visited by Indians; and in the afternoon of that day I reached the first Indian house. No one was there. Traveling on thence until sundown, I had just selected a place to camp for the night, on the river bank near the foot of a riffle, when a canoe suddenly came in sight at the head of the riffle.

Two Indians were in it; and as the canoe came shooting over the riffle, right towards my camping place, and they discovered the presence of a white man they seemed considerably disturbed and alarmed, and talked very excitedly together. It afterwards appeared that, a few hours before, they had seen my tracks coming down the river, and were equally mystified and alarmed. They thought that these tracks must have been made by a stick siwash (ghost, or forest demon) or by a tamanamus (magician), or other spiritual power. The shoes indicated the presence of a Boston (white man); but the place was so far above settlements that both of the siwashes (Indians) concluded that what they saw could not be a genuine flesh and blood Boston, as they had never heard of one being all alone that far up the river. They concluded that what they saw could not have come there by natural

means.

They wished to pass, but dared not do so, while this tamanamus insisted on their coming ashore. Finally they came to the edge of the river, and after hyu wawa (lots of talking) let the ghost into the canoe with them.

These Indians were both old men. One had the St. Vitus's dance so badly that he could not keep still, either sitting or standing.

They talked Chinook to the ghost but genuine Indian to each other.

Some years previously I had received the Indian name of S'Be-ow. Now this S'Be-ow was among the best known of the Indian mythical characters. Numberless legends. were told about him; but among his most characteristic feats was his ability to take himself to pieces and put himself together again. He could be a bear, a beaver, or a stick of wood; could assume the form of a young or old man, woman, or child, at will; and if killed could readily come to life again in some other form. So, understanding the feelings of these siwashes, I told them in answer to their numberless questions, that my name was "Old S'Be-ow," that he had no single home, but lived everywhere, and was traveling over all the land, and was not hunting gold. I asked them if they knew old S'Be-ow hyas ancutly (a long time ago). They said they did, and seeing their curiosity aroused. I attracted their attention, spit out a set of artificial teeth, held them up so that they could see what had been done, and then said, "Since so many Bostons have come into the country, I have turned Boston too; it has been so long since I was a siwash, that I have forgotten the siwash language, and only remember what I used to do, when I hear the siwashes speaking of such things. But although I look and talk like a Boston, at heart I am just as much a siwash as ever; I am a good friend of yours and have just come from Mount Baker, where in behalf of your people I have made a treaty with the stick siwashes of Mount Baker.

If you