CHAPTER XXIII.

BAYS AND ISLANDS.

In proceeding from Victoria to Nanaimo—the coaling-station of the American sea-going steamers—we pass through the Archipelago of San Juan, which lies between the Sound and the Gulf of Georgia, and have an opportunity to be surfeited with the beauty of unbroken solitudes. After passing San Juan Island—on which are garrisons of both English and American soldiers—the grounds of the former beautifully laid out, and shaded with spreading maples, we begin to see island after island, all densely wooded, some with mossy banks, overhung with handsome shrubbery, others with bold, rocky shores, of every form of the picturesque. So limpid are the waters that fish, and even sea-weed, can be discerned in their clear depths. These islands were formerly very thickly populated by the native tribes; and many Indians still live about this part of the Sound. Canoes are often met with; and a contrivance for catching wild fowl is frequently observed, which would probably puzzle the regular sportsman who should stumble upon it. It consists of a tall cross, with a net spread on the arms. At night a fire is lighted, which attracts the fowls flying by night, who rush against the net with such momentum as to occasion their fall, when the Indians gather them up before they recover from the shock. Deer are also taken by means of torches, which the Indians burn near their salt-licks. So dazzled are they by the glare that they stand motionless to be killed. From these facts we may gather that the ideal Indian Hunter is a creation far superior in manly attributes to the real one. But then "his bread-and-butter depends on it," and who can blame him?

Bellingham Bay is sixteen miles long from north to south, and about six miles wide. It is, however, divided by islands, which make the bay proper about six miles in diameter, and of an irregular, circular shape. It is backed by rather high hills, covered with forest, which shelter it from the main-land side; and is protected from the winds which blow up the straits by the numerous islands in front. This bay is the shallowest part of the great archipelago, and has a good bottom for holding, with from seven to twenty fathoms in the central division, while in some other portions of it there are thirty fathoms. Of all the countless safe and convenient harbors on the Sound, Bellingham Bay is esteemed one of the most, if not the most important, by reason of its nearness to the straits, its excellent anchorage, and its avoidance of the strong currents, which, with the ebb and flow of the tide, set through the narrower channels of the lower Sound. The tides, it is observed, contrary to rule, are highest by night through the summer, and highest by day during the winter; except at the full and change of the moon, when they have their extreme height at six p.m. in summer, and at six a.m. in winter. The average rise and fall is twelve feet in summer and fourteen in winter.

The handsome blue sandstone used in Portland to build the Custom-house is quarried in a little cove of Bellingham Bay, called Chuckanuts. The rock is beautifully stratified, and splits almost as straight as cedar. It stands in the quarry almost perpendicular to its stratification, and is split in vast surfaces of nearly smooth stone. It is quarried by cutting through a wall of the stone on a level with the wharf, then making up-and-down cuts, and lateral ones, until the blocks are of a size small enough to be handled; after which they are slid down to the floor of the quarry to be dressed, or shipped in the rough.

Coal was first discovered at Bellingham Bay in 1852, by a Captain Pattle, in the service of the Hudson's Bay Company, while looking out for spars. A company attempting to work it failed; but another seam being discoverd a little farther to the north, at a place called Seahome, another company was formed to work this one, and succeeded. It was subsequently sold to a capitalist of San Francisco, who, after a large outlay, is making it profitable. Miners call this one of the most regular coal seams that is known. Its thickness is fifteen feet, with only two divisions of clay. There appears to be a coal deposit, very little interrupted, all the way from Frazer River in British Columbia, to the Columbia River, and beyond.

Whatcom, a mile or two south of Seahome, is the county-seat of Whatcom County, and a place of probable future importance. It was founded in the beginning of the Frazer River gold fever, in 1858, when as many as ten thousand people were encamped here waiting transportation to the mines. A mill was erected for getting out lumber, and wharves built for the accommodation of the half-dozen steamers, and numerous vessels used to carry passengers and freight to this point. But this splendid prospect for Whatcom was speedily clouded over. The Governor of British Columbia issued an order that all miners working in his dominion should take out a license in Victoria. The tide was then turned to Victoria, and thus that city obtained its first great, and as it proved, transient prosperity.

At the mouth of the Lumni, a small river flowing into Bellingham Bay, is the reservation of the Lumnis, a hunting and fishing tribe. Of the eight reservations of Washington Territory, the largest is at Tulalip, on the Sound, east of Whidby's Island. The others are on the Yakima, Chehalis, and Puyallup rivers, east of the Sound; and on the Skokomish River, emptying into Hood's Canal, the Quinaielt River, emptying into Gray's Harbor, and on Neah Bay. All these reservations occupy about two hundred thousand acres of excellent land. This one, on the Lumni, is small, not containing more than twenty thousand acres; but is valuable for its fertility, and the amount of fine timber upon it. The Lumni Indians are very contented, and live comfortably. There are fifty or more board dwellings of a substantial character in their town, which they keep with considerable neatness and order. They are Catholics in religion, observing the forms taught them quite zealously, and seldom neglecting their morning and evening prayers. Generally speaking, the Indians of Washington are better looking, more dignified, and decently dressed, than in Oregon. It is to be hoped that the Government will so deal with them as to save some of these tribes from the degradation and ruin which have nearly exterminated the Oregon Indians. We quote here from the journal of a gentleman who traveled up the Lumni River, on an expedition to Mount Baker:

"Our journey was henceforth up the Lumni, into the bosom of the forest. Its banks are adorned with several species of willow, alder, the crab-apple, grasses, English clover, the daisy, the cockspur-thorn, the sweet-brier, the wild-rose, and the beautiful festoons of the wild pea. There is plenty of open land, and half a mile up we observe the telegraph wires crossing the river—a silent prophecy of their speedy settlement. … Our canoe was propelled against the stream at times by paddles, and at times by poles, and made about three miles an hour. This was slow progress, but we did not regret it, as the scenery became surpassingly beautiful. There were long rows of cottonwood-trees, which, at first sight, reminded one of the English elm. The cottonwood is sometimes called the balsam-poplar. In the spring, when the buds are breaking, the air is filled with the scent of it. Then there would be successive rows of pines in serried ranks, mingled with the cedar and broad-leafed maple, relieved by the gorgeous crimson and Indian-yellow tints of the vine-maple and hazel. The scene would then change: there would be next long reaches of alder and willow, indicating good bottom-lands. Now and then the stately ranks of pines would be broken by some tall fir gracefully leaning forward with its arms, and sweeping the stream like some disheveled beauty. Conspicuous among the arborage is the Menzies spruce (Abies Menzii), so called from its discoverer, the surgeon of Vancouver's expedition. Its feathery foliage hangs down in delicate clusters, like lace upon a lady's jeweled arm. Coleridge has said the birch was 'Lady of the Woods,' and we certainly rank the Menzies spruce as the 'Queen of the Forest.' "

From this extract, it will be seen that the same kinds of trees which have been described as belonging to the rivers and forests of Oregon, extend to the northern limits of Washington; and also that the scenery of this northern latitude loses nothing from being so near the 49th parallel.

Whatcom County, although not yet devoted to grain-raising, is found to produce large crops of wheat on the bottom-lands. It is, however, celebrated for its vegetables, the yield and excellence of all roots, such as onions, potatoes, and turnips, being prodigious. Potatoes are shipped from here to San Francisco. Apples, pears, cherries, plums, and all kinds of berries come to perfection in the region of Bellingham Bay.

Returning down the Sound, the steamer calls at Coupeville, on Whidby's Island—"the garden of Washington Territory." This island is about fifty miles long, and of very unequal width, not being over ten miles at any place. It is almost cut in two by Penn's Cove, one of the long bays common to this region. It is pierced with these inlets in every direction, and receives from them a greater variety of scenery, and greater number of beautiful locations for building, than any equal amount of territory in America. It contains a population of 550, and has about seven thousand acres under cultivation. The excellence of the soil, beauty of the scenery, and mildness of the climate, have given to Whidby's Island a wide reputation. The land is much of it prairie, equally well adapted to farming or grazing. The views which may be obtained from its most elevated portions are remarkably fine, having water, forests, and mountains on every hand. The average mean temperature of the island is forty-eight degrees. Well might so favored a spot be called the garden of the Territory. All that is true of the most favored portions of Washington, with regard to grains, vegetables, fruits, and flowers, apply most especially to Island County, and to Whidby's Island in particular.

We might go on endlessly, describing the many islands that dot the Sound, and the lovely little bays, with their small rivers and fertile valleys opening into them; but it would be only to repeat the same general features: agreeable scenery, mild climate, prolific soil, with a recapitulation of natural resources—animal, vegetable, and mineral—that are nowhere lacking in all this immense region of Puget Sound.