The Donnellys: Sticks and Stones / The St Nicholas Hotel / Handcuffs (Voyageur Classics)

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Later Printing Book condition: Beach Holme Pub Ltd, pgs.. The Donnellys; Sticks and Stones; the St. Nicholas Hotel; Handcuffs Reaney, James. Beach Holme, Cover creased at lower corner and lightly at spine, edgewear, corners rubbed, staining on foredge, small stain on inside front cover and half title page, otherwise fine, clean bright copy.. Ergodebooks , Texas, United States Seller rating: Used book in good condition. Has wear to the cover and pages. Contains some markings such as highlighting and writing. Ex-library with the usual stamps.

Used book in very good condition. Some cover wear, may contain a few marks. First Printing - First Thus Book condition: Light edge and corner wear with a flat uncreased spine; small scuffed patch on the upper right of the front endpaper; no other interior markings. This collection of plays contains The Donnellys Trilogy: First Printing - First Thus.

Fraser Sandercombe , Ontario, Canada Seller rating: Beach Holme, Clean bright copy.

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Corners lightly rubbed, else fine.. Sticks and Stones with St. First Edition Book condition: Foreword by Noonan; Sticks and Stones; St.

Near Fine see description. Leonard Shoup , Ontario, Canada Seller rating: We're sorry - this copy is no longer available. More tools Find sellers with multiple copies Add to want list. Didn't find what you're looking for? Add to want list. Are you a frequent reader or book collector? Social responsibility Did you know that since , Biblio has used its profits to build 12 public libraries in rural villages of South America?

A special order item has limited availability and the seller may source this title from another supplier. In this event, there may be a slight delay in shipping and possible variation in description. Our Day return guarantee still applies. Bookseller Completion Rate This reflects the percentage of orders the seller has received and filled. This case also gave Mr. Walkem such a good reputation as a lawyer, as to attract many clients, and also made him many friends. Although steps were being taken by other parties to secure the intervention of the Secretary for the Colonies, the Duke of Newcastle, and an order from him to Governor Dougdas for Mr.

Walkem's admission to practise, a petition very extensively signed was presented to Governor Douglas, asking him to allow Mr. Walkem to follow his profession. The petition was refused, and its rejection was solely due to the advice of Judge Begbie, who had not forgotten the wordy dispute between them during the trial of the Cranford case. About this time a good deal of trouble arose at Hill's Bar in which the notorious Ned McGowan played a very conspicuous part. The foreign element labored under the erroneous impression that the Lower Fraser, Langley and Hope were in United States territory.

In a spirit of bravado, they defied the proper officers to collect taxes as well as duties on goods coming in from the other side of the line. The authorities, with the exception of Douglas, held this foreign element in some fear, but Douglas knew he could bring them very speedily into subjection whenever it pleased him.

However, he did not go to extremes, for by the Royal Engineers and Judge Begbie the majesty of the law was upheld. It was at this time that Begbie first impressed the lawless with a wholesome fear for British law and justice. A short time after this McGowan shot a man at Hill's Bar, and confiding to a comrade that he had a great fear as well as respect for the cut of Begbie's countenance, he left the country. Judge Begbie's first circuit was undertaken on March 28, , and although his journey was a short one his report was voluminous.

This was sent to the Geographical Society of Great Britain and published by them and filled eleven pages of their pamphlet. In his administration of the laws he endeavored to be just, but at times he was extremely tyrannical towards many barristers who appeared, before him. The mining population were divided in their estimation of his decisions. They took particular exception to his frequent annulment of decisions of mining recorders, of gold commissioners and county 26 court judges, as well as his setting aside of verdicts of juries.

He was also complained of as being arbitrary, partial and doing illegal things. The miners of Cariboo held a mass meeting, the result of which was a petition for his recall. But no attention was paid to this and Begbie continued on the even tenor of his way. In criminal cases where the prisoner was not represented by counsel, Judge Begbie invariably cross-examined all the witnesses just as a counsel would have done on his behalf.

He made it his duty to see that the man obtained fair play. Those who carried bowie knives, pistols and other weapons of the same nature were, when found guilty, treated with great severity. He showed no mercy to murderers when tried and convicted before him, and frequently tongue- lashed a jury when he deemed they had not done their duty. In confirmation of this I will now proceed to cite a case. A miner, named Gilchrist, killed another miner under the following circumstances: While Gilchrist was sitting at a faro table at William's Lake, a man named Turner came in, and throwing down a sack of gold dust upon the table, bet an ounce.

Turner won his bet, and then doubling it, placed two ounces upon the table, which bet he also won. Picking up his winnings, the miner turned to leave, at the same time asking Gilchrist in a good natured tone of voice, if there was any game he could play better than that one. Irritated by the remark, Gilchrist rose from his chair, and drawing his pistol pointed it at Turner. Just as he pulled the trigger, a spectator present turned Gilchrist half round, and the ball struck another man, who was leaning on the bar of the saloon, fast asleep.

He was killed instantly. Gilchrist was arrested on a charge of murder. The case subsequently came before Judge Begbie, and a jury chosen from a class of people composed of many fugitives from justice from the American side, and known to be horse thieves from the Dalles, Oregon. After a very patient hearing of the evidence, which was clear and uncontradicted, Judge Begbie charged the jury very strongly against the prisoner, at the same time severely condemning the carrying of weapons of a dangerous and deadly character.

He warned the jury against being carried away by sympathy, or by the accidental nature of the shooting. The prisoner in attempting to kill one man, had killed another. He told them also that if they believed the evidence which had been uncontradicted, there was only one verdict they could return, and that was "wilful murder. It is far from a pleasant duty for me to have to sentence you only to imprisonment for life. I feel I am, through some incomprehensible reason prevented from doing my proper duty.

In a voice of thunder Your crime was unmitigated, diabolical murder. You deserve to be hanged! Had the jury performed their duty I might now have the painful satisfaction of condemning you to death, and you, gentlemen of the jury, you are a pack of Dalles horse thieves, and permit me to say, it would give me great pleasure to see you hanged, each and every one of you, for declaring a murderer guilty only of manslaughter.

At that period in the history of British Columbia there was no penitentiary, as there is now, but the common gaol of New Westminster was used for that purpose, and in it were confined all manners of convicts, of long and short terms. It was to this prison, therefore, that Gilchrist was conveyed to serve out his sentence. After being in this gaol three or four years, he met one day, in the yard one of the most desperate thugs that ever crossed the international boundary line.

Taking hold of the sleeve of his prison jacket, the criminal told Gilchrist that a conspiracy had been entered into by the long term prisoners, to fix on a certain day, to attack, and possibly kill their guards, on filing out from breakfast, escape from the prison, and with the aid of outside friends, make their way back to the United States.

Great was the surprise of this convict when Gilchrist refused to have anything to do with the conspiracy. In a few words Gilchrist informed him that he had one life on his conscience, and he resolutely refused to engage in any plot, especially when its success was dependent on the taking of human life.

In the course of the day he considered it his duty to inform the warden of the jail of the plans of the conspirators. That night a search of the cells was made before the convicts were locked up at the close of the day, with the result that packages of red pepper, and even pistols were found concealed in some of the bedding. Governor Seymour paid a visit to the gaol, and after hearing from Gilchrist the whole story of the plot, pardoned him there and then.

A few years later some citizens of New Westminster paid a visit to San Francisco, and while there went with some friends to inspect the San Quentin penitentiary on the other side of the bay. They were shown round by the warden, a most gentlemanly official. Just before leaving, the warden said to one of the visitors from New Westminster: Your name is Gilchrist. Now I am warden of this prison, so if you have any sympathy for me never mention my name or allude to that horrible time, which I wish to forget. He is now dead or I would not refer to the matter here.

Another similar case occurred in Victoria not very many years ago. A well known mining man, named Robertson, had been sandbagged and killed in a most cowardly and brutal manner. The evidence against the prisoner in the opinion of the chief justice was clear and most convincing. I think the judge was right. The prisoner got a very patient and fair hearing. The evidence was submitted by the crown in anything but a vindictive manner, but the crown counsel called for justice to be meted out and an example made of men of the prisoner's type of character which others would take earnestly to heart.

In summing up the chief justice told the jury, as in the case of Gilchrist, that there was only one verdict which they could return, and that was "guilty of wilful murder. Addressing the foreman in his most courteous manner, the chief justice said: Foreman—with your permission I will say a few words to the gentleman in the dock?

Certainly, my lord; certainly, I have no objection whatever. The Chief Justice turning to the prisoner —You have escaped. The jury in their infinite wisdom have declared that you are not guilty of sandbagging the deceased. In return for this I. As I said before, you have escaped! Captain John Thain, an old pioneer of this province, was called to his fathers some years ago, and buried in Victoria.

Four large granite stones marked the four corners of his grave. These stones were connected with each other by steel chains to prevent people from tramp- 29 ling over the grave. One day these chains were missed, and a man, wlio was subsequently tried at the assize, was arrested, charged with stealing them and then selling them in a junk shop. This case was also tried before Begbie, and the evidence was very clear against the prisoner.

The chief justice told the jury what he thought they ought to do and if they were honest men could find but one verdict and that was guilty. Here again the jury did not see eye to eye with the chief justice. They brought in a verdict of "not. Chief Justice addressing the jury —This verdict you have brought in is a disgrace to British justice. Have you not common intelligence? I think, sir, looking at the jury by this verdict you have shown that you are not fit to sit on any jury where common intelligence is a requisite.

It is my opinion, however, that you have been guilty of stealing these chains from a late Victoria citizen's grave, and the crime is about as mean a one as stealing coppers from a dead man's eyes. Taking a quick step forward this juror addressed his lordship as follows: After the remarks which your lordship saw fit to make about the preceding jury, of which I was the foreman, I don't think I am fit to—" The chief justice interrupting —"I quite agree with you, sir, I don't think you are fit to sit on this, or any other jury.

Sheriff, strike this man's name off the panel. But the chief justice could be very facetious at times, and before I proceed to give an instance of this kind I must tell another story. When Judge Begbie was sojourning in New Westminster in the early days, some of its good citizens pressed upon the attention of the judge a mining claim which had been staked on a creek which ran under Hon. This claim they had salted with pyrites and other material which to the uninitiated, resembled gold in appearance. Here his lordship stood with trousers rolled up to his knees, and pan in hand washing the gravel.

On the side of the creek stood a glass containing the gold? The glass was half full. His success created such a stampede that Capt. Lewis, an old-timer, advised him to try and cut his washings with a knife. He fell in with the suggestion, with the result that the deal was off. Wymond Hamley was a partner of Judge Begbie on this occasion. A year or so after this episode a banquet was given by the New Westminster city council to which Judge Begbie was invited.

Among the toasts offered on that occasion was one by the late Hon. Begbie never forgot that incident, and often in the latter days of his life mentioned it to me. Thomas was the name of a man who kept a boot and shoe store in New Westminster. He had hung a pair of boots upon a nail outside the door of his shop. An Indian passing saw the boots, and thinking that he needed them more than Thomas did, took them and fled. He was shortly afterwards arrested and brought before a magistrate, who committed him for trial.

I was at that time living at the Hastings Mill, and being a witness in a case, attended the same assize at which this Indian was to stand his trial. Chief Justice Begbie presided. The sittings were opened in due and ancient form, Mr. Norman Bole appearing for the first time as crown prosecutor. After several cases had been disposed of the Indian's name was called, and he stepped into the dock. His appearance there was the signal for considerable confusion in the body of the court, constables and ushers running hither and thither, and the sheriff assuming a very anxious expression of countenance.

All of this did not escape the eagle eye of Sir Matthew, who, ieaning over the front of the desk, addressed the crown prosecutor, and the following colloquy ensued: Is there no Indian interpreter in court? Attorney, is not the prevailing language of New Westminster Chinook? Attorney, is it not a fact that more people of this city speak Chinook than Indians speak English?

Crown Prosecutor—I believe it is, my lord. Sir Matthew—Quite so, Mr. It simply shows the natural tendency of a people to fall back to the original state. I have been told that Mr. Bole made quite a pointed remark to the chief justice, but if such a remark was made I did not catch it. However, the judge told the crown prosecutor to let the Indian's case stand over until an interpreter was obtained. At another assize I heard one of the most scathing addresses to a convicted prisoner to which I have ever listened. Before hearing this one I had in my mind the address of Judge Aylwin to Barreau, a man convicted in Montreal of murder in the village of Laprairie in or It was a fearful lashing, but did not approach in severity the one which I will now repeat.

A man was brought up on an indictment charging him with having entered a church and broken open a box containing money belonging to some Sunday School children, which was hanging on the wall. The money was to be devoted towards the establishment of a Sunday School library. Sir Matthew was again presiding. The prisoner appeared in the dock with three medals upon his breast.

One medal was a Crimean one, with three clasps for Inkerman, Balaclava and Sebastopol, a Turkish medal Medije , and an Indian medal with the Lucknow clasp. He was undefended, but Sir Matthew cross-examined every witness in the hope that he might find some redeeming feature for a British soldier. After the evidence was all submitted, the jury retired and the prisoner disappeared. In twenty or thirty minutes the jury returned to court, and so did the prisoner, who, however, had removed his medals from his breast.

The verdict was ". I could see that this was a very painful case for him. Suddenly collecting himself, he first addressed the crown prosecutor: Attorney, I scarcely know how to deal with this case— a long pause —Prisoner, you are the most consummate scoundrel that ever disgraced a dock.

To think that you, decked out in all Her Majesty's war paint, which you no doubt obtained by skulking in the trenches before Sebastopol, should arm yourself with an instrument like a hatchet, and crawl into the House of God upon your hands and knees, and break open a box in which the little children had placed 32 their sixpences to purchase books wherewith to make themselves more acquainted with their Maker! A Siwash would not do it. A Chinaman would not do it, but if on the other hand you had decked yourself out in this war paint which, as I said before, you no doubt obtained by skulking in the trenches before Sebastopol, and had armed yourself with a double-barrelled gun and crawled up behind some poor wretch and blown his brains out—there might have been some merit in that, for you would have had the sure and certain conviction in your own mind that you would, if convicted, have been sentenced by me to be hanged by the neck in the shortest space of time which God and the law would have allowed ; but I think eighteen months will meet all of the requirements of your case.

Go to the other side of the world, where you are not known. Should you be so unwise as to stay in this country, and should your form again throw its shadow in this courthouse, charged with crime, and you are found guilty, and I am sitting on this bench, I will send you to a place where you will speak to your fellow men no more, at least while there incarcerated. Warder, take him out of my sight. Begbie, the judge's father, was a Peninsular veteran.

When Judge Begbie was holding an assize about two years after his arrival in the colony, a notorious horse thief, bully, and all-round bad man, who had been driven out of "hang town" at the foot of the Sierra Nevada mountains by a vigilance committee, was convicted of stabbing a man near Williams Lake, and was up before the judge for sentence. This was the first case of using a bowie knife which had come before his lordship.

The court was crowded, as the general public, consisting of all sorts and conditions of men, were very anxious to ascertain of what kind of mettle this British judge was composed. Taking a very deliberate survey of his audience, Judge Begbie said: I am given to understand that the mining class of the western states look upon liberty as a condition- of life which gives them the right to defy the laws of their country, and to govern it according to their wishes by the might of the bowie knife and Colt's revolver.

You, prisoner, are a good representative of that class, and I am told that there are many more of your kidney within the sound of my voice. It is laid down very clearly so that no person can make any mistake as to its meaning. When you go beyond that you indulge in license. We have a law which prohibits the use of bowie knives, pistols and other offensive weapons, and in those countries over which the British flag flies there is no necessity for carrying or using offensive weapons, and let me tell those who are in court that in the course of my duty I will punish most severely all those who, coming into this British colony, make use of such deadly weapons.

Prisoner, the jury have very properly found you guilty of this wanton and cowardly attack.

You will spend three years in a place of confinement to be determined on, and in giving you this sentence I feel that I have been very lenient with you. I am sorry to spoil this story, but this anecdote is not a Begbie one. The same story was told about a noted judge of Missouri, and was published in Harper's Magazine when I was a boy. A correspondent of a United States journal, who was travelling through British Columbia, heard many stories about the judge, and duly chronicled them in his paper.

One of these was that when on assize in Cariboo he always made it his business to spend his Sundays in selecting the trees on which to hang his victims who might be convicted during the week. This, of course, was untrue. In the course of his duties as a criminal judge in the early days, Judge Begbie received many threatening letters, both anonymous and signed, in which the writer threatened to do bodily harm and worse to the judge in case he punished with severity certain parties about to be tried.

One of these writers he had arrested and brought before him, and after lecturing him on the gravity of his offence, discharged him with the remark that he and others like him were beneath contempt or his notice. It was said that he was afraid to go to Rock Creek during the so-called Rock Creek war. As a matter of fact, he earnestly asked Governor Douglas to be sent there, but the governor told him that he had duties of greater importance to deal with near the coast, and that he, the governor, and Judge Cox would deal with the situation.

Uriah Nelson was the principal witness.

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It was a civil suit. This gentleman was, as all old timers know, a celebrated character in British Columbia's commercial life. In giving his evidence he did a little fencing with the lawyer who was examining him. At last Judge Begbie turned to the witness and said: Nelson resumed his fencing with the examining barrister. Then Judge Begbie turned on the witness and in a voice of thunder said: If you do not pay attention to what I tell you, I will commit you. At a time in our provincial history when we were short of county court judges, the judges of the supreme court often took up the work of these lower courts.

On two or three occasions the amount sued for did not exceed in value more than two or three dollars. When these cases were called the judge would put his hand in his vest pocket and, taking out the amount, would settle the case, at the same time remarking that his time was too valuable to be frittered away in petty suits of this kind.

The late judge was very fond of music, and when the Philharmonic Society was organized in Victoria, many years ago, he was its first president. When living in New Westminster as judge of British Columbia, he sang in the choir of the cathedral Church of England and his voice could be heard drawling out at the end of a verse after every one had ceased singing. He had a chair placed for his use outside of the choir, as the seats would not admit his long legs between the rows. For some years antecedent to his death he was a member of the choir of what was known as the "iron church," Victoria, and frequently read the lessons, and a remarkable good reader he was.

The late Ike Johns used to tell a story about Judge Begbie whom he did not know at the time by sight, but simply by reputation , having come to his cabin one night in Richfield and borrowed an overcoat, which was of a pattern commonly used by American soldiers. The night was dark and the weather very wet.

As he passed the coat out to him, he said: Sir Matthew was very fond of both shooting and fishing. With the gun he was very handy, being a good shot, right or left. One day a curious accident occurred to him in New Westminster when the judge was shooting in the swamp at the lower end of the city. Pooley was with him. A snipe arose and darted off on swiftly moving wings. Up went the judge's gun; he fired, and the bird dropped. Almost immediately after this remark was made, Jack Fannin, late curator of the provincial museum, came out of a cabin on the opposite side of the swamp, bleeding from a wound on the nose directly between his eyes.

One of the shot had passed through Jack's window and wounded him. The judge immediately went over to Jack, and with him went to Mr. Adolphus Peele, at that time a druggist, who removed the shot. On regaining the street, the judge remarked: Adam Horne was a gentleman who had once seen very strenuous times in the service of the Hudson's Bay Co. He was now approaching the sere and yellow leaf in physical strength, but his brain was as clear and as active as ever.

His tales of bygone days were always a strong temptation to me to seek his company and draw from his inexhaustible store some interesting tale of adam horne the early pathfinders. Opening the garden gate I approached the old gentleman, who was leaning forward, with his hands crossed over the head of his stout walking stick, and his forehead resting on his hands. After a moment's hesitation he replied: It was one of the most cruel massacres that have ever happened on the Pacific coast of British Columbia. I was thinking of it when you spoke to me, and the incidents of that tragedy are as vividly clear to my memory today as they were at the time of its occurrence.

But sit down and enjoy the ozone of this balmy atmosphere. Sir George Simpson was a great believer in British Columbia ozone. Changing my seat into a garden chair, I awaited his reply. After a moment's pause, he said: This account is interesting from a historical point of view, and of some importance because it has never before been told.

But to us, the old employes of the Hudson's Bay Company, these happenings were of passing interest because they were in the ordinary course of duty and of everyday occurrence. I will do my best and ask you to be patient and make some allowance for the infirmities of one who is now well advanced in years. Roderick Finlayson, who was the Hudson's Bay Company's official in charge of Fort Victoria, sent me word that he desired to see me at the fort.

I accordingly met him there. Then he told me why he had sent for me. He said he wished me to undertake a somewhat dangerous expedition, and calling me to his side, he pointed out on a rough sketch, which he held in his hand, a creek on the east side of Vancouver Island, and a short distance north of Nanaimo. This creek he called the Qualicum.

He explained that the Company was anxious to ascertain whether a trail existed from the Qualicum to the head of Barclay Sound, and if not whether it was possible to construct one at a low figure. He told me that I had been selected to head a small expedition to proceed to the creek, interview the Indians there, and if a trail existed ask their permission to use it. We believe, he said, that the natives of both sides of the island use a trail of some kind, and we look to you to find it.

Their dwellings are inside the mouth of the creek. You will use great circumspection in approaching these people on the subject of using the trail, if there is one. They are not well known to the Company, but their relatives at Cape Mudge have a very bad reputation for treachery and theft. If they refuse to give you any information, or deny you the use of their trail, you will at once leave their camp, and use your own discretion in completing your task.

Above all things be constantly on your guard against treachery. You will be allowed to choose four out of your six companions. There is one man we are sending with you and for whom you must find room. His name is Cote, a French-Canadian. He is a good canoeman ; 38 knows the waters of this coast thoroughly, is invaluable in a crisis, and does not know what fear means.

We will also furnish you with an interpreter and with all necessary supplies of which you will furnish us a list, and also with some small goods for presents to the natives of both coasts. You will proceed to carry out these orders without delay. Finlayson, and at once proceeded to write out a list of what we might need, which I handed in within an hour. I was told that they would be packed ready for transportation in the canoe that afternoon, in several small tarpaulins, which might be of use on the trip should 1 require to cache any of my supplies.

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I made preparations to leave Fort Victoria by the flood tide next morning, which set in about half past four. I looked up four other men to accompany me, one of whom was an Iroquois, one of the old engages of the campany. We all met that night, including the interpreter, Lafromboise, and Cote, This man Cote was a peculiar character, with a shock of wiry curly hair, which hung in ringlets about his shoulders. He was greatly given to profanity, but which he always confined to the French language.

Next morning the canoe was brought around to the foot of what is now known as Fort street, and on entering the fort we found all. These we carried down and placed in the canoe. Finlayson came down to see us off, a remarkable thing for a gentleman in his position to do, but it showed the interest he took in the expedition. Cote entered and took his place in the stern, and we all followed. The canoe was pushed off and we made for the outer waters, and as we disappeared round the bend we saw the chief factor waving us an adieu with his lantern, for it was not quite daylight.

When we got out into the gulf we met a stiff southerly breeze and a fast flowing favorable tide. Sail was hoisted, and under its pressure and the rising tide, we bowled along nearly all that day at a great clip. It was roomy and light and would have been an excellent model for a large vessel. It behaved well in a heavy sea, and we met many that day, throwing the water from its bow as it rose on the stormy brine like a duck. We saw no natives on our long run that day. As evening approached the wind gradually died down to a light breeze off shore, so we thought it better to go into camp for the night.

It was some little time before we settled where we would land, as we wished to obtain a spot where we might 39 be able to have a camp secure from the intrusion of natives, who generally prove a great nuisance, being always "hyas kla-howya" and sticking to a camp until they eat you out.

We made a small camp fire and after a hearty supper, made preparations for bed. I appointed a Red River half-breed as night watch, with orders to call us early. We sat around the camp fire for some time, the several men, who were all voyageurs of the old school, telling some very interesting stories. We finally rolled into our blankets and were soon sound asleep.

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It was half past four when the watchman called us next morning. He had breakfast all ready, which we soon disposed of. Once more we loaded and manned the canoe and, like on the previous day, had a fair tide as well as fast breeze to carry us on our northern journey.

We sailed between many islands, beautifully clothed in verdure to the very water's edge.

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The deer was evidently holding his own. It was too far out of our course, or I would have directed the crew to make some attempt to intercept and kill it, as we were much in want of fresh meat. Although they saw us they made no attempt to get better acquainted. We camped that night on the eastern side of Newcastle Island.

As it was our object to escape observation, we made no fire, as it might have been seen by the natives living at the mouth of the Nanaimo River. We lay concealed on this island until- nine o'clock next night, when we again put the canoe in the water. We had a stiff southerly breeze at our backs, and every appearance of an approaching storm. The water was very rough, sometimes pouring over the sides of the canoe in bucketsful. Although there were no Indian settlements along the coast, we saw many camp fires on the beach as we sailed by, which must have been those of Siwashes going north or south.

We managed to get off again, but the wind approaching a gale, we had to land on a long, flat beach, a few miles further north. The wind had changed, and was now blowing from the north. As the water's edge was some distance from the timber, we had hard work packing our supplies and the canoe up into the bush. The beach was rough, and 40 covered with heavy boulders, and as it was as dark as Erebus the moving of the canoe into the brush and timber was attended with heavy work and many falls.

We were rewarded, however, by finding the snuggest place for a camp that one could desire. It afforded splendid protection against the gale which was still blowing heavily. Tired out, we all turned into our blankets and went to sleep. It must have been six o'clock next morning, or a little later, when the Iroquois aroused me, and told me in a subdued voice, that we were within one mile of the Qualicum, and that, for some time, he had S.

We were fully awake without any loss of time, and from the edge of the timber we saw these large northern canoes enter the creek one after the other, and disappear behind the brush which bordered the banks of the stream. Then we took breakfast, and while doing so, thick volumes of smoke arose from the creek and poured down across the front of the timber where we lay concealed. It was fully twelve o'clock before the first of them came into view in the lower reaches of the creek. We were horrified at the antics of these demons in human shape, as they rent the air with their shouts and yells.

One or two of those manning each canoe would be standing upright going through strange motions and holding a human head by the hair in either or both hands. The wind at this time was almost blowing a hurricane from the north, and the sea was 41 tipped with angry white caps in every direction. Turning the prows of their canoes to the south, these northern Indians hoisted mats as sails, and fairly flew along before the gale. In an hour s time they were all out of sight behind a bend in the shore line. There was no doubt in our mind but that we were about to face some dreadful tragedy.

After lying concealed another hour we once more launched our canoe, loaded it up with our supplies and impedimenta, and poled our way along the shallow beach towards what we were now convinced was the mouth of the Qualicum. On account of its south eastern approach being extremely shallow, we had to make a detour and enter from the north. In the creek we found the current swift and a great volume of water to contend with, so we continued the use of the poles. Both sides of the creek were covered with'small brush to the water's edge. In case we met with any natives, who might give us a hostile reception, all of our men had their muskets loaded and lying by their sides.

We saw nothing of the rancherie on entering, but volumes of smoke were still pouring out from one side of the stream beyond a projecting point, covered with heavy timber. In five minutes we were round this point, and then a most desolate and pitiable condition of things met our view. What had evidently been a rancherie was now a blackened heap of burning timbers. Naked bodies could be seen here and there, but not a living being was in sight. Our interpreter called out several times that if there was any person living to come out—that we were friends, and would do them no harm.

He got no answer, except the echoes from the surrounding hills, and he then walked over to where the lifeless bodies were lying. Every trunk was headless and fearfully mutilated. We searched the surrounding underbrush for living beings, but without success. Discouraged, we sat down upon a drift log to discuss what we should do. Some of my men were for returning at once to Fort Victoria, but this I positively refused to do.

I was sent out to do a certain work, and that work must be done, jr a good reason given for my failure. There were no Qualicum Indians from whom I could gain my information, so I must try and find the trail without assistance. If there were any left they must be prisoners in the hands of these northern Indians. While discussing- our own position as the result of this massacre, the Iroquois suddenly left us, and walked diagonally toward the bank of the creek.

Then he halted as though he were listening. He stood in one attitude of keen attention for some moments, and then glided with moccasined feet toward the creek. There he lay down and placed his ear to the 42 ground. Rising he went a few yards further down the bank of the creek and lay down again with his arm well over the edge of the bank, beneath an overhanging maple tree, and extending his arm he bent it underneath the bank and drew the living body of a naked Indian woman from her place of concealment. She was a fearful sight.

Old and wizened, she held a bow in her dying grasp, and was chanting some dirge in a low monotone. On her left side she had an ugly wound, from which the blood was flowing freely. This, with her pale face, and her very weak condition, told me that her end was near. However, she was not too far gone to speak, for she murmured something, and looked at us all, with fear expanded eyes. Evidently we were the first white people she had ever seen.

I gave her a little rum and water, and then called Lafromboise, the interpreter, to my side. I asked him to question her as to what had taken place. After many attempts to get her to speak, he at last succeeded in obtaining the following story: They had all been asleep in the large rancherie when the Haidahs crept in with stealthy step, and more than half of those asleep were killed without awakening.

The remainder were quickly killed, there being five Haidahs to one of themselves. She was wounded with a spear, but had seized a bow and fled to the side of the creek and had hidden herself beneath the bank. The Haidahs had taken away with them two young women, four little girls, and two small boys. This expedition was in revenge for the killing of one of the Haidahs when attempting to carry off the daughter of one of the principal men who live where the death curents meet Cape Mudge. Beyond this we could get no further information. Her voice became weaker and her breathing more difficult, until she finally became insensible.

As I looked down on her I could not help thinking of the uncertain and unsettled condition in which these people lived. At no time could they consider themselves safe from the attacks of other tribes, even when they were supposed to be living on terms of the greatest friendship. Even as I looked at her, her eyes became fixed, her jaw dropped—she had passed away.

Paddling two miles up the coast, we landed and removed our supplies, and placed them on the beach. Then paddling a short distance further north, we cached our canoe in some thick shrubbery. After returning to where we left our supplies, we dug a hole, wrapped in tarpaulin what we thought would be sufficient to take us to Fort Victoria, after returning from the west coast, placed these supplies in the hole, filled 43 it up, smoothed it over, and then made a fire over all.

This effectually concealed our cache. After a most arduous trip of four hours we struck a trail going in a N. We had thus far only covered four miles. The underbrush was heavy and thick, and interspersed were recumbent giants, in all stages of decay. These lay lengthways, crossways and every other way, in wild confusion.

With heavy packs upon our shoulders, the ups and downs of that journey were very exhausting, and when we reached the trail we were thoroughly spent. Some of my men wished to camp here, but Cote and the Iroquois both objected, as they said it was too close to the Qualicum rancherie. They both pointed out that we were totally ignorant as to whether any of the tribe were absent at the time of the massacre, and were some absent, and return, they would institute a search, and finding us so close, they might decide that we were the murderers of their friends.

With this I agreed and we continued our march along the trail until dusk, when we emerged from the forest upon the shore of a large and placid sheet of water, which we knew must be the lake which the trail was said to lead to. We made our camp inside a lovely grove of arbutus. We had supper, and then, tired men as we were, rolled ourselves in our blankets and soon were sound asleep. About midnight I was awakened by the howling of wolves and the screech of a cougar close to our camp.

I got up and piled more wood on the fire, which was nearly out. I was never in any part of the Pacific coast where I heard so many owls calling to one another. Whether our presence disturbed them or not, I cannot say, but for hours the cries of at least three different species of owl broke in upon the usual silence of the night. The screech owls were particularly noisy, as they called and answered their friends and neighbors, probably telling one another of the arrival of a new species of the genus homo, who did not smell of salmon, and who had invaded their ancient homes.

As I returned to my couch Cote got up, and said he would remain awake and guard the camp, as he did not like the proximity of hungry wolves, with our supplies at their mercy, if there was no one awake to guard them. The last I saw of him as I dropped off to sleep, was with his eyes gazing fixedly into the trees above him, looking for the great cat which was giving vent to the most blood-curdling screeches every few minutes. He had nothing to report next morning, except that two large timber wolves kept hovering round the provisions, but always under shelter of the underbrush.

As I emerged on the shore, I saw a cow elk and a young calf standing up to their knees in the waters of the lake, having a morning drink. They saw me at the same time, but they did not appear to have the least fear of me. Our camp was much in want of fresh meat, so I made up my mind to kill the calf. Making a slight detour to get the cow elk out of the line of fire, I crept up to within forty yards of them and shot the calf through the neck. She fell dead in the water, and the Iroquois coming up at the same time, dressed the beast and carried the carcase into camp.

With a hook and line and a piece of dried venison I tried my luck in this lake, the first white man to do so, and with very flattering results. The water was very clear and cold, and I could see the trout moving about in every direction. In fact, this lake fairly teemed with fish. Just as soon as I had caught sufficient to meet the wants of our camp I detached my line, and walking back gave my catch to the man whose turn it was to cook the breakfast that morning.

As the men were very tired from the previous day's work, we did not start on the trail again until after the noonday meal. We had a haunch of young venison for dinner, cooked in a hole in the ground beneath the fire, and encased in a thick coating of mud. I have never tasted venison that could compare with the haunch of that young wapiti. As we could not take all of the meat with us, as we were already pretty well loaded, we hung part of the carcase on a tree a short distance from the trail, hoping to be back at this place on our return journey before the meat spoiled.

This lake was evidently the drinking place of the wild animals of that part of the island. After leaving the lake the trail became tortuous, and unnecessarily so, like most of the Siwash trails. A native will walk yards out of the direct route to avoid some small obstacle which we could remove with a little labor. Darkness overtook, us at the foot of the last mountain trail we were to climb, before we might look down upon the waters of the western coast.

Here we again camped for the night, but before turning into my blankets I put two men on watch, to be relieved after four hours by two others. This I thought to be necessary in case some wandering natives might be in the vicinity. Taking up the trail next morning shortly after daybreak, we arrived at the summit 45 about noon, and from this point we had a fine view of the west coast and of Barclay Sound.

On the summit we cached some more of our provisions, and we had a very steep and difficult descent to make, which would be made dangerous with heavy packs upon our backs. The gifts intended for the natives we of course took with us to propitiate any tribes with whom we might come in contact. It was to the interests of the great company we had to look, and a friendly attitude on the part of all natives was of the first importance in obtaining their furs, and their trade. We were told that the majority of the natives of Barclay Sound had never seen a white man, and consequently they might be difficult to approach, or even hostile, unless we succeeded in gaining their confidence and friendship.

I shall never forget that trail down the mountain side. It was so exceedingly steep in places that we could only descend by hanging on to the brush which skirted the trail, and letting ourselves down. The trail at the foot of the mountain led directly to the salt water, and our arrival there was productive of great excitement among the Indians. We heard shouting in the timber, and the savages calling to one another in that weird and abrupt cadence so peculiar to the Indians of British Columbia. We could see none of them, but that they were within easy bow-shot was evidenced by the flight of an arrow which found a resting place in the bark of a Douglas fir, not far from my head.

Cote, who was walking a few feet in my rear, advised me to keep more within the timber, where I would be safe from flying arrows, or other missiles. I recognized the value of his advice by complying with his suggestion. The shouting now seemed to come from the other side of a narrow canal, and presently two Indians appeared on the opposite bank, shouting, gesticulating and brandishing some weapons which they held in their hands.

The interpreter, Lafromboise, attempted to hold some conversation with them, but the attempt was a failure. After walking a short distance we found a canoe on the bank. We then pantomimed to the savages our intention of crossing over, to which they showed strenuous objection, but after a little over half an hour's pantomiming with our hands and arms they finally consented. There were no paddles in the canoe, but Cote went into the bush and returned with a branch of a fir tree, with which by vigorous use he propelled the canoe to the opposite bank.

On our advancing towards them the two natives, and many others who had joined them, retreated with threatening gestures. One, however, stood his ground, 46 but showing some timidity I thought it advisable to try the effect oi some of my knick-knacks. I accordingly drew from my bag some small looking-glasses, and threw one towards him, as well as a one- bladed knife.

These laid for some time on the ground before he would touch them. He finally took up the small mirror and gave vent to some grunts of satisfaction which brought the others from the timber, where they had been concealed. Taking nip the one-bladed knife, which I had opened before throwing it to him, he appeared to know its use, and they were all pleased with it, and made signs for more.

But he looked at his buscuit, and would not touch it, and after I had eaten half the one in my hand he motioned to me to throw it to him, which I did. Biting a piece off, he chewed it, and seemed highly pleased with its taste. Taking some more from my bag I advanced and he stood his ground. I then offered him some of those just taken from my bag, but he would only eat them after I had eaten a piece of them myself. Many more natives coming up, they asked me for biscuits, mirrors and knives. I gave them all I had with me, but I was joined shortly after by the remaining members of my party who had been ferried over by Cote, while I was going through a pantomime with the natives.

The most of these natives were completely naked, but some had coverings made from the inner bark of the cedar tree. The interpreter then asked in a loud voice if there were any of the Indians who spoke the Songhee tongue, when a young man who appeared to be about 18 years of age stepped forward and said he could speak the language. He explained that he was a Songhee and captured when a boy had been living with these Indians ever since.

He told us that we were the first strangers they had ever seen, and they were afraid. The Indian who appeared to be the chief, invited us to visit his rancherie. We walked down with them after sending one of my men back for a Hudson's Bay blanket. The rancheria was situated some distance from the salt water canal. As we approached this large structure Cote objected to my entering the building. He said the Indians were already showing signs of becoming troublesome, by trying to steal from the supply bag and jostling some of the party.

The interpreter told the Songhee to ask the chief to make his people behave themselves or there would be trouble, which he did, as the chief addressed the natives, and they fell 47 back a little from about us. I was suspicious, however, of the chief's intentions, and refused to enter the rancherie, although pressed to do so. The blanket in the meantime had arrived, and I presented it to the chief with much ceremony.

He was highly pleased with it, and in return he gave me two otter skins, which he had intended trading with the Indians on the outer coast. I then explained to him that the blanket was a present from the Company, who had trading posts at different places in Briish Columbia, and that the Company would be glad if he took any furs they caught to these posts and be well paid for them.

The young Songhee then asked if we could get him his freedom to return with us to his people at Fort Victoria. Before making any proposition in connection with him we distributed a few of the mirrors and knives. I was on the point of returning to the foot of the trail, where we intended camping for the night and leaving early in the morning. It was now close to 4 o'clock in the afternoon, and it was necessary that the men should have their supper, as they had had nothing to eat at noon. Taking the chief on one side, I explained by signs that I would give him two blankets in exchange for the boy.

At first he refused, but at last he consented. Not wishing him to see what goods we had with us, I told him to come to the foot of the trail in the evening, and bring the young man with him. We were glad to leave this tribe, and make all haste to a place at the foot of the trail which I had noted in the morning as offering a good site for a camp, if I returned that day. While they were preparing a camp and getting supper, I took Cote and Lafromboise with me, and walked down a couple of miles to salt water. Here I saw a native fishing, but I did not leave the protection of the timber, as I was interested in his peculiar method of spearing cod-fish.

This man had a wooden block carved into the shape of a boy's spinning top, and adorned with a circlet of feathers. This shuttlecock, for it closely resembled one, he placed at the end of a pronged spear, and pushed it far down into the water. Then standing over it he withdrew the spear and allowed it to come slowly upwards in front of the shuttle. This was evidently a bait, for a few moments after withdrawing the spear he plunged it quickly downwards again, and then withdrew it with a struggling grey cod on its extremity.

After watching the man for some time I came out of the timber, whereupon the Indian paddled off with great shouts of fear towards the rancherie. When I came back to camp the supper was ready, and while disposing of it, the Indian chief or headman came in, accompanied by the young Songhee. Then another blanket was 48 asked for, in exchange for the Songhee's liberty, in rather an imperious manner. This I 'point blank refused to give him, and he was about to take the boy back with him, when Cote took the boy by the shoulders, and pushed him among our men, at the same time throwing the two blankets at the chief, and motioning him to take himself off.

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