The region did indeed merit all that could be said in its praise. The ground on the west side of the river—which was wide and full of lovely wooded islets—rose at intervals to a considerable height, and stretched inwards to a great distance; at the foot of every slope there was a soft, grassy lawn, broken here and there by abrupt precipices, which were fringed with exuberant verdure. Shrubs and trees of every kind, in clumps and in groves, crested the heights or nestled in the hollows: among them were groves of poplar, with the white spruce and soft birch, and other trees; while the banks abounded with alders and willows. Those that bore blossom were just opening their bright buds, and the setting sun cast a rich golden light over all, as though the glory of the beneficent Creator were shining on His gorgeous handiwork. But that beautiful wilderness did not blossom and bloom in solitude. It was tenanted and enjoyed by countless numbers of living creatures. Wherever the travellers turned their eyes, vast herds of elk and buffaloes were to be seen, the latter sporting with their young ones on the plains, the former preferring to browse on the slopes and uplands; and innumerable birds of all shapes and sizes enlivened the scene with their varied gyrations, and filled the air with melody.
It seemed, indeed, a species of paradise; but not far from it the travellers were painfully reminded of its terrestrial nature by the sight of a wide-spread conflagration, which carried fierce destruction over the whole plain, and left black ruin behind; and still further on Mackenzie was robbed of the pleasurable feelings due to the influence of sweet scenery, by the baleful influence of man in the shape of a chief of the Beaver Indians with a hunting-party. He tried to push on past these Indians, but they kept up with the canoe, running along shore, and when night approached he was compelled to encamp with them. The consequence was, as he had feared, that these people attempted to terrify his young Indian interpreters with dreadful accounts of the land beyond, and succeeded so far that it was with the utmost difficulty that they could be persuaded to remain with the expedition.
Next night they encamped at a spot where a stream fell into the Peace River from the north.
“Voilà! w’at is dis?” exclaimed Ducette, as he leaped on shore.
“The fut-print of a grizzly bar,” said Reuben, stooping to examine and measure the mark; “an oncommon big ’un, too—full nine inches wide. I wouldn’t like to embrace that bar.”
The den, or place where this monster or some of its kindred had spent the winter, was also found not far-off. It was ten feet deep, horizontally, five feet high, and six feet wide.
“I wish we could find him,” said Lawrence as he kindled the camp-fire.
“Ha! Swiftarrow has found something better,” said Mackenzie, as the Indian strode into camp laden with the tongue, marrow-bones, and other choice portions of an elk which he had killed a short distance down the river.
Lawrence had his wish next day, for they found a grizzly bear so fierce-looking and large that it was well for him he was in the canoe struggling with rapids at the time, for he was reckless enough to have attacked it single-handed—a very dangerous proceeding, and a thing that the Indians never do. They appear to think that at least three men are necessary to the destruction of this much and justly feared monster of the mountains.
Lawrence looked at Bruin with a feeling of bloodthirsty desire; Bruin looked at Lawrence with an expression of stupid curiosity; and then slowly, not to say sulkily, retired into his native forest. Next day they beheld a more gratifying sight,—namely, the snow-capped Rocky Mountains themselves, within the rugged portals of which their canoe passed not long afterwards. Here, as was to be expected, the river became narrower and more turbulent, and ere long the explorers had to face dangers and difficulties which tested their courage and endurance to the uttermost.