"Yes," said Hugh, "they wander some, but not so much as most people think. A great many people say that in summer the buffalo all go north and in winter they all go down south, but that's not so. There are movements of the herds with the seasons, but they are not very extensive."
"Mr. Hunter," said Jack, taking advantage of a moment's pause, "I have heard something about the caches that the Indians make of their food, but I have never seen one in this country. Will you tell me how they arrange them?"
"Certainly," said Mr. Hunter. "These Indians, here, after their fish have dried, pack them together; and in a tree, far above the reach of animals or insects, they build something that you might call a little house or a big box, in which they store the food and leave it there against a time of need. The house or box, whichever you choose to call it, is built of shakes, that is, of thin planks split from the cedar, is fairly well jointed, and has a tight and slightly sloping roof so that the moisture cannot get into it. Usually they are seen along the streams or near favorite camping grounds, and I should not be at all surprised if we saw one before reaching Yale. They are quite commonly seen."
"And you say," said Jack, "that they are never disturbed?"
"Absolutely never," said Mr. Hunter. "Indians would suffer great privations before taking food belonging to other people, because they know to take away this food might mean starvation to the owners. Of course if an absolutely starving outfit of Indians found a cache they might take from it a little food, perhaps enough to carry them on for a day or two along their road; but if they did, they would leave some sign at the cache to say who had taken the food, and they would feel bound, at some later day, whenever it were possible, to return what they had taken with good interest."
By this time the day was well advanced, and a little later Mr. Hunter pointed to a few dilapidated buildings standing near the river and said: "There is all that's left of the town of Hope. The situation is a beautiful one, in a wide bottom; but there is no life in the settlement. It is from this point on the river that the trail starts for Kootenay about five hundred miles distant, and all the mail and express matters used to leave from here. The town was founded in the early days of the mining excitement, when it was thought that the diggings of the Fraser were inexhaustible. People used to think that this would be a great town, and there was an active speculation in building lots, but as the washing on the lower river ceased to pay, the tide of emigration passed on. Hope was left behind, and the owners of town lots will have to wait a long time for their money. At the same time, when the railroad is finished it will of course pass through Hope or near it, and there may be a future for the place; but that will depend upon agriculture and not on mining."
A little later in the day the steamer tied up to the bank at Yale. It was quite a large town, spread out at the foot of a great mountain, and it seemed to have the characteristics of all western railroad towns. It was from here that the Canadian Pacific Railroad was being built eastward, and Yale was thus the supply point and the locality where all the laborers employed on the road congregated during holidays. To Jack the place seemed as cosmopolitan almost as San Francisco. He recognized English, Scotch, and French; and noticed some Germans, Swedes, and some Americans; Indians and Chinese were numerous, and negroes jostled Mexican packers and muleteers; while there were many mixed bloods whose parentage could hardly be determined from their countenances.
Jack learned that a stage ran from Yale to Lytton, where the river is again practicable for steamers, and that this was the route taken by persons going to the mines at Cariboo.
Mr. Hunter, knowing Jack's interest in birds, took him to see a taxidermist who had a considerable collection of bird skins brought together from the immediate neighborhood. Here he saw many eastern and western birds, the most interesting of which were the evening grosbeak, the pine grosbeak, and a species of gray crowned finch. By the time the birds had been inspected the sun had set and they returned to their quarters at the hotel.
Immediately after breakfast next morning, Jack, Hugh, and Mr. James walked along the railroad two or three miles up the river and into the cañon. The scenery was very beautiful. The walls of the cañon were nearly vertical, the stream tearing along between them at a high rate of speed. Just at the entrance of the cañon stands a high rock or island, which divides the current into two streams of nearly equal size. On a flat rock they all sat down, and while the two older men filled their pipes and smoked Mr. James told Jack the story of this rock.