The Sea: Its Stirring Story of Adventure, Peril, & Heroism (Vol. 1-4). Frederick Whymper

spirits from going abroad; but we would advise them to “look well before they leap.” But how utterly unfitted for mining-work were the larger part of the young men who had travelled so far, only to be disappointed. There was no doubt of the gold being there: two hundred ounces of the precious metal have been “washed out” in an eight hours’ “shift” (a “shift” is the same as a “watch” on board ship); and this was kept up for many days in succession, the miners working day and night. But that mine had been three years in process of development, and only one of the original proprietors was among the lucky number of shareholders. A day or so before the first gold had been found—“struck” is the technical expression—his credit was exhausted, and he had begged vainly for flour, &c., to enable him to live and work. The ordinary price of a very ordinary meal was two dollars; and it will be seen that, unless employed, or simply travelling for pleasure, it was a ruinous place to stop in. Fancy, then, the condition of perhaps as many as 4,000 unemployed men, out of a total of 7,000 men, on the various creeks, a good half of whom were of the middle and upper classes at home. But for one happy fact, that beef—which, as the miners said, packed itself into the mines (in other words, the cattle were driven in from a distance of hundreds of miles)—was reasonably cheap, hundreds of them must have starved. Everything—from flour, tea, sugar, bacon, and beans, to metal implements and machinery—had to be packed there on the backs of mules, and cost from fifty cents and upwards per pound for the mere cost of transportation. Tea was ten shillings a pound, flour and sugar a dollar a pound, and so on. Those who fancy that gold-mining, and especially deep gravel-mining, as in Cariboo, is play-work, may be told that it is perhaps the hardest, as it is certainly the most risky and uncertain, work in the world; and that it requires machinery, expensive tools, &c., which, in places like Cariboo, cost enormous sums to supply. If labour was to be employed—good practical miners, carpenters, &c. (much of the machinery was of wood)—received, at that period, ten to sixteen dollars per day. This digression may be pardoned, as the sea is so intimately bound up with questions of emigration. Apart from this, from personal observation, the writer knows that quite a proportion of miners have been sailors, and, in many cases, deserted their ships. In the “early days” of Australia, California, and British Columbia, this was eminently the case.

      A large proportion of the sailors in the Royal Navy have, or will at some period, pass some time on the Pacific station, in which case, they will inevitably go to Vancouver Island, where there is much to interest them.106 They will find Victoria a very pretty little town, with Government house, cathedral, churches and chapels, a mechanics’ institute, a theatre, good hotels and restaurants—the latter generally in French hands. He will find a curious mixture of English and American manners and customs, and a very curious mixture of coinage—shillings being the same as quarter-dollars, while crowns are only the value of dollars (5s., against 4s. 2d.). Some years ago the island system was different from that of the mainland; on the latter, florins were equal to half-dollars (which they are, nearly), while on the island they were 37½ cents only (1s. 7½d.). The Hudson’s Bay Company, which has trading-posts throughout British Columbia, took advantage of the fact to give change for American money, on their steamers, in English florins, obtaining them on the island. They thus made nearly twenty-five per cent. in their transaction, besides getting paid the passenger’s fare. Yet the traveller, strange to say, did not lose by this, for, on landing at New Westminster, he found that what was rated at a little over eighteenpence on Vancouver Island, had suddenly, after travelling only seventy miles or so, increased in value to upwards of two shillings!

      THE BRITISH CAMP: SAN JUAN.

      Outside Victoria there are many pleasant drives and walks: to “The Arm,” where, amid a charming landscape, interspersed with pines and natural fir woods, wild flowers, and mossy rocks, there is a pretty little rapid, or fall; to Saanich, where the settlers’ homesteads have a semi-civilised appearance, half of the houses being of squared logs, but comfortable withal inside, and where a rude plenty reigns; or to Beacon Hill, where there is an excellent race-course and drive, which commands fine views up and down the Straits. In sight is San Juan Island, over which England and America once squabbled, while the two garrisons which occupied it fraternised cordially, and outvied with each other in hospitality. The island—rocky, and covered with forest and underbrush, with a farm or two, made by clearing away the big trees, with not a little difficulty, and burning and partially uprooting the stumps—does not look a worthy subject for international differences. But the fact is, that it commands the Straits to some extent. However, all that is over now, and it is England’s property by diplomatic arrangement. There are other islands, nearly as large, in the archipelago which stretches northward up the Gulf of Georgia, which have not a single human inhabitant, and have never been visited, except by some stray Indians, miners, or traders who have gone ashore to cook a meal or camp for the night.

      Any one who has travelled by small canoes on the sea must remember those happy camping-times, when, often wet, and always hungry and tired, the little party cautiously selected some sheltered nook or specially good beach, and then paddled with a will ashore. No lack of drift-wood or small trees on that coast, and no lord of the manor to interfere with one taking it. A glorious fire is soon raised, and the cooking preparations commenced. Sometimes it is only the stereotyped tea—frying-pan bread (something like the Australian “damper,” only baked before the fire), or “slapjacks” (i.e., flour-and-water pancakes), fried bacon, and boiled Chili beans; but ofttimes it can be varied by excellent fish, game, bear-meat, venison, or moose-meat, purchased from some passing Indians, or killed by themselves. It is absurd to suppose that “roughing it” need mean hardship and semi-starvation all the time. Not a bit of it! On the northern coasts now being described, one may often live magnificently, and most travellers learn instinctively to cook, and make the most of things. Nothing is finer in camp than a roast fish—say a salmon—split and gutted, and stuck on a stick before the fire, not over it. A few dozen turns, and you have a dish worthy of a prince. Or a composition stew—say of deer and bear-meat and beaver’s tail, well seasoned, and with such vegetables as you may obtain there; potatoes from some seaside farm—and there are such on that coast, where the settler is as brown as his Indian wife—or compressed vegetables, often taken on exploring expeditions. Or, again, venison dipped in a thick batter and thrown into a pan of boiling-hot fat, making a kind of meat fritter, with not a drop of its juices wasted. Some of these explorers and miners are veritable chefs. They can make good light bread in the woods from plain flour, water, and salt, and ask no oven but a frying-pan. They will make beans, of a kind only given to horses at home, into a delicious dish, by boiling them soft—a long job, generally done at the night camp—and then frying them with bread-crumbs and pieces of bacon in the morning, till they are brown and crisp.

      It was at one of these camps, on an island in the Gulf of Georgia, that a camp fire spread to some grass and underbrush, mounted with lightning rapidity a steep slope, and in a few minutes the forest at the top was ablaze. The whole island was soon in flames! For hours afterwards the flames and smoke could be seen. No harm was done; for it is extremely unlikely that island will be inhabited for the next five hundred years. But forest fires in partially inhabited districts are more serious, or when near trails or roads. In the long summer of Vancouver Island, where rain, as in California, is almost unknown, these fires, once started, may burn for weeks—ay, months.

      The Indians of this part of the coast, of dozens of petty tribes, all speaking different languages, or, at all events, varied dialects, are not usually prepossessing in appearance, but the male half-breeds are often fine-looking fellows, and the girls pretty. The sailor will be interested in their cedar canoes, which on Vancouver Island are beautifully modelled. A first-class clipper has not more graceful lines. They are always cut from one log, and are finely and smoothly finished, being usually painted black outside, and finished with red ornamental work within. They are very light and buoyant, and will carry great weights; but one must be careful to avoid rocks on the coast, or “snags” in the rivers, for any sudden concussion will split them all to pieces. When on the Vancouver Island Exploring Expedition, a party of men found themselves suddenly deposited in a swift-running stream, from the canoe having almost parted in half, after touching on a sunken rock or log. All got to shore safely, and it took about half a day of patching