BOATING ON THE COLUMBIA AND OKINAKANE RIVERS IN MID-WINTER. Take long walks in stormy weather, or through deep snows in the fields or woods, if you would keep your spirits up. Deal with brute nature. Be cold and hungry and weary. --Thoreau. SPOKANE FALLS, Washington Territory, November 28, 1887.-To-day, N. L. and I went to the stage office to inquire when the next stage left for the Okinakane. It is advertised to start twice a week, Monday and Thursday, and to go through in thirty-six hours. They told us it ran but once a week at this time of the year, and that we would not be able to start till the next Monday, but if we were very anxious to go, they would telephone to Davenport and have the stage held for us. So we bought tickets for twenty dollars each, and concluded to start on a special at five o'clock the next morning. We then went to a few stores and bought woolen shirts, overalls, etc., to wear on the trip. November 29.-We started this morning at five o'clock from Spokane Falls to the Okinakane. In this latitude it does not get light before seven o'clock at this time of the year, and we had two hours' ride in the dark and three hours' ride before we got our breakfast. We took breakfast at Deep Creek, a small village of two stores, four saloons and a gristmill, and arrived at Davenport at one o'clock. We got a first-rate dinner here, price twenty-five cents, and also found the stage waiting for us. There were two passengers, who had left Spokane Falls at six o'clock the day before, and were in no very good humor at having to wait at Davenport for us. The stage was a common spring wagon without a cover, and with a rack fixed to the end for trunks, etc. It was loaded almost to its full capacity without the five passengers. The driver ordered us all to get in the wagon before he brought the horses out, as he said he "would have to be going as soon as they were hitched." As soon as the three men from the stable could get the four horses on, they flew back out of the way, and we started on the run, the leaders bucking and kicking, stage-driver's whip and voice going. Away we went on the run, up and down hill, for four or five miles, making splendid time, but afterwards the "bunch grass horses" tired out and slowed down, and it was after dark when we reached Wilber, forty miles from Davenport. Wilber is a new town, situated on Wild Goose Bill's old ranch, and known all over the country as Goosetown. November 30.-Started for W.'s ferry this morning. We have two large sacks of mail on the stage. There is no government mail into the mines. All the mail is carried by private stages and the miner is charged ten cents a letter. We did not have a change of horses before leaving the town of Wilber, and our horses were used up by yesterday's drive, so that we could only go on a slow walk. Between Wilber and the ferry lies what is called the Grand Coulé. In this part of the country they call a ravine or canyon a coulé. The Columbia river has at some time ages ago run through the Grand Coulé, which is a thousand feet below the mesa or table-land. The road down to and up from it is very steep. The Columbia is at least five hundred feet lower. The coulé is said to be an excellent place for stock, as it affords them good shelter, and the snow does not lie in it. One of our passengers was a miner on his way to Salmon City. He was an expert gambler, and abused the stage and driver so heartily that there was nothing left for the rest of us to say, and we kept quiet. The baggage rack at the end of the wagon had broken the bed, and there was danger of the back seat falling off and leaving the passengers in the road. N. and I, as we were the lightest, had to take that seat. We had to walk up the hills to save the horses, and down to save the stage, and it is a very hilly country. It seemed to me that it was all hills. December 1.-At W.'s ranch we slept in the hay in the stable. One of our party was so tired that he went to bed without taking off his overshoes. It had snowed most of the day before, and our blankets were wet. We did not have a very pleasant night! We crossed the Columbia and left for the Okinakane in the morning. The horses were more worn out, and we went slower than ever. Finally, about seven miles from the Okinakane, the miner and his partner left the stage and walked in. We got in about two hours after dark, having made thirty miles in the day. Going down the last hill we had to tie a rope to the hind axle and hold the stage. We found that the miner and his partner had been in for two hours. The man who keeps the ranch and ferry at this place is named Cummings. We left the stage here, and made a scow to go down the river. We were three hours in making it, but after we were through could not find a piece of lumber more than four inches wide to make a paddle of. December 2.-We started down the river this morning. When we had gone a few miles we found the Okinakane frozen. After dragging the boat across several short stretches of ice to open places, and floating down them, we came to a field of ice that stretched as far as we could see. We got out of the boat and began to drag it. The ice was very rotten, and we were in constant danger of breaking through. After a while an Indian rode up and said the ice was five miles across. So we pulled the boat on shore, and struck for a ranch that was in view. We found it occupied by an Irishman and his numerous family, wife and eight children. They were all living in a log cabin of one room with a dirt roof and floor. We took dinner with them, and then started for the next ranch, L.'s, about a mile away. We hired L. to haul our boat down the river or across the frozen places, intending to put it in the river and float over the open part. It was only the still and deep places that were frozen. We got him to haul the boat up to his house in the wagon that evening. December 3.We stayed at L.'s last. night, and started down the river with the boat and ourselves in the wagon this and arrived at the ferry about four morning. It snowed last night and o'clock. The distance is eighteen miles. continued to snow and blow hard all The trail goes up a long distance from day. We found three open places in the the Okinakane, till you begin to go down river in which we put our boat, taking it to the Columbia. out and putting it in the wagon when there was ice, and late in the afternoon arrived at L.'s, a trading store for the Indians, situated three miles from the mouth of the river. The river is open and deep from here to its mouth. The distance from C.'s, at the mouth of the Salmon river, to L.'s, at the mouth of the Okinakane, is twenty-one miles. December 4.-We stopped last night at L.'s. We gave our scow to the man in whose wagon we brought it to this place. We do not know how to get away from here. N. has gone down to the mouth of the river to see if he cannot hire an Indian and ponies to take us to W.'s ferry or Fort Spokane. We should like to get to Fort Spokane so as to make a boat to come down the Columbia in. If we conclude to build a boat, we want to run from Fort Spokane, the nearest point to point to Spokane Falls, down the Columbia to the mouth of the Okinakane, and up that river. It snowed hard all day yesterday, and there is nearly a foot of snow on the ground. The sun came out bright this morning, and we shall have to guard against snow-blindness. Later.-N. hired an Indian to take us from L.'s to W.'s ferry. He came with four ponies and two saddles. We borrowed a saddle from L., so that we each had one to ride. The Indian rode bare back. It began to snow as we were starting and snowed hard all the way the way We left L.'s about half-past twelve over. The table-land is destitute of timber, but is covered with tall bunch grass. The Columbia and all the other streams are cut down from the level ground several hundred feet. We made the distance, considering the roughness of the trail, and that it was covered at least eight inches by snow, in very good time. The Indian took the lead and we followed Indian file. file. If the ponies had belonged to me, they should not have been ridden so fast. When we got to the ferry, the Indian took his horses and started up the river. He had to go at least ten miles further or camp in the snow. December 5.-We stopped at W.'s ranch last night. We met a hard lot and witnessed a fight, one man pounding the stage-driver over the head with a revolver to enliven the evening. We started this morning with a horseman in his wagon for K.'s store. The wagon was covered and we had quite a comfortable ride. December 6.-We stopped at P.'s, thirty miles from the Columbia, last night, and went this morning to K.'s store. Here L., one of our party of three, left us on his way to St. Paul. N. and I hired a buckboard of K. to take us to Fort Spokane. December 7.-We stopped at B.'s, on Halleck's creek, last night, and concluded to build our boat for descending the Columbia here. We went this morning to the Indian agency to see the doctor, and took dinner with him. After dinner we went back to B.'s to build our boat. December 9.-We started down the Columbia river from B.'s to-day at eleven o'clock, and are now in the boat. B. would not let us pay him for the lumber to build our boat, nor for our board during the time we staid with him. He had got out the lumber for a boat for himself, and we used that lumber. We were strangers, but his father lived in my native town thirty years ago. N. built quite a nice boat in a little over a day. December 10.-We stopped last night at K.'s store, on the Columbia, and came down the river to 's ranch, forty-five miles, to-day. Four miles above there are very swift rapids. I do not think a boat could run the rapids without a line. The Columbia is a very rapid, clear and deep river. The shallowest place we found in the channel was at least six feet. The river runs in a deep canyon, twelve hundred feet below the mesa, and has abrupt walls first on one side of it and then on the other. Some of these walls are a thousand feet high. The scenery would attract travelers if a steamboat were placed on the river. A photographer could get some fine pictures, and tourists would take the trip down the Columbia for the sake of the views. -'s In some places the river is divided into several channels by large boulders that have fallen in it, and make rock islands from twenty to seventy-five feet in size. The swift and deep river breaks against these rocks and becomes a mass of foam. It looks from the banks and above these places as if a small boat could not go through, but we did not find them very bad, only a little rough. The river is so clear that you can see the bottom where there are twenty feet of water. We have passed over at least two rapids that a steamboat would have to line over, but only for a short distance, as an eddy runs up the shore nearly to their head. - at whose place we are staying, has a man to cook and attend to his store, but does not furnish beds for his guests. Everyone who travels in this region must carry his own bed or he will be likely to sit up more nights than he sleeps. has built a wagon road to the Salmon river mines and has a ferry over the Columbia. Every team that crosses the Columbia has to pay him from $1.50 to $2.50 each. His ranch is so situated that all the travel to the mines has to stop at his place. He is a typical frontiersman, rough in manners and speech, but generous and kind-hearted, and never lets a man go hungry from his ranch. He is married to a squaw. The Indians of this territory are more civilized than any I ever met. Most of them live in a cabin in winter, and have herds of horses and some cattle. There is a number of stores all over this country for the Indian trade. December 11. We left -'s this morning. We found the river very rough and full of bad rapids. It is impassable for a steamboat bound up, and in one place would be dangerous for it going down. At a point called Box canyon, twelve miles below's, the river is gorged between two high walls of rock and runs very swift. The water boils and roars over the boulders and makes white capped waves four or five feet high. We let our boat drop stern downward descending the rapids, and pulled up stream at the same time, but notwithstanding, shipped considerable water and got quite wet. At Foster's creek rapids the river is full of big boulders, with spaces of from ten to forty feet between them. The river dashes on and rushes at a great rate between these rocks. We followed the same plan in going down these rapids as at Box canyon, but had to twist a good deal to avoid striking the rocks, and did not get through without filling our boat half full of water and getting wet our selves. Just below Box canyon rapids we came across two Chinamen rocking out gold on the bank of the river, and thought we would have a chat with them; but they could not or would not speak much English. They wanted to know where we came from, and whether we had come over that, pointing up to the rapids. When we told them that we had, one of them said, "You no fear." The banks of the Columbia were at one time alive with men washing out gold, and it looks as if most of the bars had been worked. While there was plenty of gold it was very fine, or what is called flour gold, and such gold is very hard to sieve. The Chinamen have taken possession of the river now, and are re-washing the bars. We saw them working every few miles. It is said that they are more expert than white miners at saving this fine gold, and that they make from two to ten dollars a day. December 12.-We stopped on the night of the twelfth at W.'s ranch, op posite the mouth of the Okinakane. They treated us very well. We left their ranch about nine o'clock and went down the river. The river was smooth all day. About half-past three we passed a ranch, but thought it too early to stop, and continued down further, thinking we would come to some place before dark. But we did not find any ranch, and kept on for two hours after dark. In a short time, we heard rapids in the river, and were afraid to proceed. While pulling our boat out on the bank, expecting we would have to camp in the snow, and go without our supper and breakfast-not a very pleasant prospect, as we had had no dinner-we heard a dog bark and went in the direction the sound came from. We found a group of cabins occupied by a family of Indians. It consisted of an old man whose hair was very gray-he wore it about six inches long, and it stood up straight, and looked like a mop; a boy about twelve years old; an old squaw and two young squaws and two small children. We asked them to get us some "muck-amuck," or something to eat. The squaws got off the benches or beds that were on the sides of the room, and started a fire in the cooking-stove. The room was lined with matting made by the Indians from rushes. After they had cooked supper they pulled a table about fourteen inches high from under the bed, and proceeded to set it, "Boston man" style, with stone china dishes, knives and forks. Then they drew up to the table two benches about six inches high, and motioned to us to sit down to muck-a-muck. After an effort we managed it, but were troubled considerably by our knees being between |