"Ho! that's easy fixed." Then did that generous man break open
boxes, bales, and packages and freely gave without a stint, all the
things we needed: kettles, pans, sugar, oatmeal, beans, jam, etc.
"How are you fixed for whiskey?" he asked, opening his own private,
not-for-sale supply.
"We have none and we never use it," was the reply. Then I fear I
fell very low in the eyes of my crew.
"Never use it! Don't want it! You must be pretty damn lonesome in
a country like this," and he seemed quite unable to grasp the idea
of travellers who would not drink.
Thus the last of our troubles was ended. Thenceforth the journey
was one of warm, sunny weather and pleasant travel. Each night the
sun went down in red and purple fire; and each morning rose in gold
on a steel-blue sky. There was only one bad side to this, that was
the constant danger of forest fire. On leaving each camp - we made
four every day - I put the fire out with plenty of water, many
buckets. Rob thought it unnecessary to take so much trouble. But
great clouds of smoke were seen at several reaches of the river,
to tell how dire it was that other campers had not done the same.
CHAPTER XLVII
WHEN NATURE SMILED
It seems a law that every deep valley must be next a high mountain.
Our sorrows ended when we quit the canyon, and then, as though in
compensation, nature crammed the days with the small joys that seem
so little and mean so much to the naturalist.
Those last few days, unmarred of the smallest hardship, were one
long pearl-string of the things I came for - the chances to see and
be among wild life.
Each night the Coyote and the Fox came rustling about our camp, or
the Weasel and Woodmouse scrambled over our sleeping forms. Each
morning at gray dawn, gray Wiskajon and his mate - always a pair
came wailing through the woods, to flirt about the camp and steal
scraps of meat that needed not to be stolen, being theirs by right.
Their small cousins, the Chicadees, came, too, at breakfast time,
and in our daily travelling, Ruffed Grouse, Ravens, Pine Grosbeaks,
Bohemian Chatterers, Hairy Woodpeckers, Shrikes, Tree-sparrows,
Linnets, and Snowbirds enlivened the radiant sunlit scene.
One afternoon I heard a peculiar note, at first like the
"cheepy-teet-teet" of the Pine Grosbeak, only louder and more
broken, changing to the jingling of Blackbirds in spring, mixed
with some Bluejay "jay-jays," and a Robin-like whistle; then I saw
that it came from a Northern Shrike on the bushes just ahead of
us. It flew off much after the manner of the Summer Shrike, with
flight not truly undulatory nor yet straight, but flapping half
a dozen times - then a pause and repeat.
