CORRESPONDENCE.
NOTES FROM BRITISH COLUMBIA.
ETO THE EDITOR Or THE ..EPECTATOR."] Soa,—Some of your readers may feel interested in the following extracts from a letter just received from British Columbia. I should explain that the party is exploring for land worth taking up in an island between Vancouver and the mainland, and that it consists of my brother-in-law and his wife (who writes the letter), my two sons (lads of 19 and 17), and " john,"
" Where we are now is a little nook in a very pretty bay. It is a lovely place ; but when I say that there is scarcely a yard of level ground, you will understand that it has its draw- backs. We have, as I dare say you know, a tent for W— and myself, another tent on the top of a little hill close by for the boys, and a but which serves for kitchen and parlour. (Sailor John sleeps in the sloop). The ground our tent is pitched on is very uneven. I have to run up a hill to get to the wash- hand basin, and I invariably slide down backwards once, if not twice. There were rather deep holes where we made our bed, but W— filled them np with pieces of rock; then we put pine-boughs, then moss, after that a canvas blanket-cover, a buffalo robe, and finally blankets. It was really very comfortable, but lately W— has made a really grand bedstead, as he thought it better to be further from the ground ; besides, it gives the spiders and beetles more trouble to get at us. The but is a great convenience. We have our stove in it, with shelves for our stores. It has, it is true, no door and no windows, and three-fourths of the floor are gone ; but there is enough left for us. W— and the boys have now made a table and four good benches, and we get on admirably well.
" They, as you know, are busy exploring the island, and I some- times go with them. But exploring is not an easy thing in this country. No words, indeed, will adequately describe the places that have to be got over. Sometimes there are large masses of rock covering the ground, and there are smaller pieces every- where. Then there are very thorny rose-bashes (with small, very red, sweet-smelling flowers, by-the-way) and blackberries, a very pretty shrub called ' sal-lal,' ferns, fir-trees, and any quantity of other bushes and trees. Then the ground is covered at intervals with fallentrees. Every few yards you have to get over one. Some you can step over, but most require a good climb. As for trying to go round them, that is out of the question, for many of them are over seventy yards long. Many of the large trees that are thus lying on the ground are quite rotten, and have a number of young fir-trees, some of them quite tall, growing all along their trunks. Sometimes they are useful for helping us to cross swamps. I am getting quite used to walking along them over hollows that are unpleasantly deep. Swamps there are in abundance, and lovely lakes, these latter full of trout. The boys have caught a few of these, but I look forward to their getting more, when they become more skilful. Deer are in plenty, but it is now the close time for them. However, we have had a taste of them, for two Siwashes (Indians) came over the other day in a canoe (the Siwashes seem to be allowed to kill them at any time), and W— bought the hind-quarters of one for fifty cents and some tobacco. It was moat delicious meat. Sometimes—I know you will like to know how we fare—we have cod from the bay. John cooks it cut up in pieces, with onions and tomatoes. It is eatable in this way, but not a very good fish after all. I am head-cook, though John, and indeed all, help. John has some Greek ways of dressing things which make them palatable. The bread, at first, was a great triaL I brought some bottles of yeast from Victoria, and made a dreadful mess of the first batch. Perhaps I used too little yeast ; anyhow, the loaves would have done for ballast. Eventually they were sunk in the harbour, and I assure you that they went down like lead. At last I made some yeast for myself. Since then, and especially since I have been able to have some of that excellent Winnipeg flour, I have managed very well. We have hot rolls for breakfast. Imagine that! Sometimes John makes them, sometimes W— or the boys. Then there is a supply of pilot bread (or biscuits) to fall back on. One day last week they killed a 'coon, and when they had skinned it, thought that they would like it cooked for dinner. I remonstrated faintly, but was overruled. Indeed, I could not refuse when they offered to prepare it. And prepare it they did, and very nicely too, so that it looked just like a bare. At first they left the eyes in, but it looked so dreadful that I never could have basted it, especially as it had to sit with its head out of the oven-door. Even after the eyes were taken out it had a quite dreadful grin. Still, when it was cooked, it really looked very nice, and W— and the boys seemed to eat it with great appetite. As for me, I got off with a very small piece. But then, see the
inconsistency of these creatures Suddenly, when we were eating our pudding, W— said, 'That 'coon was a trifle green ;' and one of the boys said, ' I am glad I ate it and yet somehow I wish I hadn't,' and the other chimed in. So they all joined in vilifying the poor beast. I was not altogether surprised when I remembered that they had had their noses over it a good part of the afternoon. But 'coon is not an every-day luxury. For food generally, we have fish, tinned meats and soups, cheese, butter, syrup, cake, pie or pudding, and, of course, very admirable bread. The last thing at night we generally have some chocolate. Our great want is green vegetables, though the canned are tolerably good. Milk, of course, we have none, except the condensed.
"As for clothes, the place is simple destruction to them. Cooking and walking through the bush would finish anything. W— and the boys dress, if you can call it dressing, anyhow ; but W— always puts on a collar for service on Sunday. I kept to collars as long as I had any clean. Now I wear embroidery. I have made vain endeavours to starch some collars myself, but, somehow, they won't come stiff. But I mean to try again.
" We have some minor plagues. The mosquitoes are not much to complain of; but the midges in the evening are a great pest. Not that they make any difference to me, but W-- and the boys complain of them loudly. Small flies, I am glad to say, do not trouble us, either in the house or out of doors. Other insects are innumerable,—the ants are simply enormous, and there are bright beetles like those that are sometimes worn for ornament. There are crowds of mice, and I am always patching bags that they have eaten through. Yet they are so tame that one does not like to be hard upon them. There are numbers of butterflies, and some very pretty birds, some of which have a very nice song, but not so nice, I think, as our larks and blackbirds at home. There is one, W— says, that reminds us of home with its note, something between a postman's knock and a policeman's rattle. The crows, of which there seem to be whole flocks, are not musical. When we first came, they used to gather round our tents in the early morning, and waken us with their quarrelling. The boys thought of throwing boots at them, but were afraid they would carry them off. Besides the crows, there are eagles in abundance. The boys shot two fine specimens the other day. When I tell you that there are panthers in the island, I shall have about completed my list. One of the boys had a little adventure with one of them some short time ago. Tle went down into a swamp to cut a stick for a fishing rod, and lo ! in the bush which he had picked out there was a panther lying. He had nothing but his axe with him. The panther, happily, moved off; and so, when he had got his stick, did the boy. So no harm came of it ; but he had a scare. So, my dear
this is the way we live now.' "
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