Mr. Dide, His Vacation in Colorado

After crossing the Divide, and before we reached our camping-place, the country had improved decidedly; the grass was fresher and more abundant, and the wild flowers added to the attraction of the slope along which we were travelling; the distant hills were bountifully dotted with aspen groves and openings – suggestive to one accustomed to the haunts of deer. Gaps in the hills immediately skirting our way would reveal small parks, beautifully green, and the entrance to them usually guarded by picturesque rocks. In one of these projections a dromedary was conspicuously outlined, with its head carried to the life. In another a hippopotamus was wallowing up from a sandstone bed. In another the form of a woman half reclining in a high-backed chair, while immediately in front was a figure in an attitude of supplication. The afternoon sun shining fairly upon this group gave us a good view of the features in profile; other rocks immediately in front and to the right of the principal figure, were readily constructed into groups bearing a human resemblance, and the Major at once gave the place the name of the Queen's Court. Many have passed this way, no doubt, and have seen a medley of rocks, while others may have enjoyed with us the distinction of an audience with royalty. Balancing Rock, however, cannot escape the attention of the most indifferent.

We finally caught a glimpse of a bit of the White River Valley through the gorge toward which we were moving: a beautiful stretch of meadow-like land reaching up to timber-clothed mountains. The view continued to expand until we arrived at the border of the stream. The way wound among willows and mountain beech, with a few scrub oaks, now and then an alder bush, and what Joshua termed haw bushes, bringing us suddenly to the margin of the river. The water was perfectly clear and cold, with the brush growing close down to the edges of the banks; just above the ford was a pool in which the Major was as sure there were trout as that the sun shone. It did seem, indeed, that the fish must find delightful habitation in every foot of water in sight. We crossed and made camp, and it was not long before the Major verified his prediction. From that same pool, within a hundred feet of the ford where people were crossing nearly every hour of the day, he brought in two trout that more than sufficed for our supper.

"The stream is just alive with them, my boy – you will have trouting such as you never had before."

CHAPTER VI.

ON WHITE RIVER

Two miles, about, below our camp is that part of the valley where the Ute Indian Agency was situated a few years ago. Here it was that the pot-bellied potentate Colorow and his horde of tatterdemalions cruelly murdered agent Meeker, captured and carried away women and children, and committed other unprovoked atrocities – receiving, as an inducement for further outrages, additional government subsidies and comfort. The soil which these "red brothers" refused to cultivate now glitters in a garb of golden grain; they killed their best guide and friend, who never had for them other than kind words and fatherly admonitions, because it required work to change the product from sage brush to wheat. If a man should undertake to harness an adult grizzly to a plough the world would consider him weak and fail to mourn his death, though he would be on a par with the governmental "policy" touching the Indian. A century of failure should, it would seem, convince even a nation that there were defective cogs in its policy wheel.

But the Major suggests that I drop the subject, unless I desire to write a volume on a disease that I cannot cure. He says it is like any other botch, spoiled in the beginning of its existence, and it would be impossible now "to lick into shape."

"It is only a matter of time when our 'red brother' will cease to be, and our disgrace will culminate at his final departure. We are out for fish and our own reformation only."

Now that we are on the stream that we started in search of, there is no occasion to hurry. We have with us all the necessary accessories to comfortable housekeeping; our time is our own, and we enjoy a solid independence of landlords, railroads or stage-coaches. A house would be an incumbrance and finger-bowls as superfluous as a piano. Do you know what it is to be free, absolutely oblivious to care, past or prospective; with no apprehension touching the condition of your linen, the set of your necktie or the volume of your trousers at the knees? If not, go camping. The destitution of polish on your shoes and the holes in your hat become luxurious, as you view the one through the other while you lie on your back in the shade and pull down the "old felt" to screen your eyes from the brilliancy of the blue roof under which you are loafing. Each month thus invested will add six months to each year; toward the end of your time you will realize this, and find your joints supple to a ripe old age.

The next morning at breakfast the Major requested me to do the fishing for the day's supply; he desired to go prospecting:

"You have not wet a line since we started; you had an opportunity at Elk Creek and here, also, last night. I thought you were fond of angling?"

"So I am, but catching fish does not constitute my view of angling; it is only one of the pleasures that awaits in the vestibule of the temple. A beautiful attendant merely who induces us into the inner sanctuary."

"We'll shake hands on that, my boy," exclaimed the Major.

Joshua, who ate with us at our solicitation, stopped his cup of coffee half way to his mouth and stared at me.

"I'll get a gunny-sack full, if you want 'em, Major, – can do it in half a day," said Joshua, sipping his coffee.

"We would rather you did nothing of the sort, Mr. Miles," and the Major's manner was somewhat testy; "we could make no use of them – the time of plenty is the time to save – you've heard that before, no doubt, or something like it?"

"Oh, yes, I've heard mother say that many a time."

"I thought so – a mother's advice is always good, and you can apply it to fish and other game."

"All right, just as you say."

The Major started off to the hills with his Winchester. Joshua concluded he would stay around camp and "square things up." One of the horses had stepped on the new coffee-mill and ruined it, and he must look out for another. The principal feature of the new coffee-mill was a piece of clean board about a foot square; the other part of the complication consisted of a tin can. He placed the coffee on the board and rolled it fine with the can: the board, being the important part, in the absence of carpenter shops and sawmills, was the portion fractured, of course.

I put my rod together and adjusted the reel. The leader and flies had been in soak for an hour and were in good condition; I had selected a coachman, a red-bodied gray hackle and a brown cofflin to test in prolific water a theory of mine. The White River in the fifty or more miles we experimented is the ideal of a trout stream. From our camping-place for thirty and odd miles to the cañon of the South Fork is a series of riffles, deep swirls under bushy banks, pools and comparatively still reaches. The willows and other shrubs are so thick that the opportunity for casting from the shore is happily exceptional. There is no satisfactory alternative but to pursue the best method. The stones are clean beyond those in any stream which I ever waded, and the prospect of a wetting from smooth rubber boots and rocks a remote possibility. To avoid the places too deep to wade, crossing and recrossing the riffles becomes a necessity; these opportunities seem to lie at such convenient and appropriate distances that admiration for the skill of the Designer is irresistible; one takes to the dancing crystal with a love for it, and a reverence for its Presiding Genius. There is a feeling of exultation as one enters and stands solitary in mid-stream and looks down the flashing current; the surging of the water, as it takes his limbs into its cool embrace, whispers a greeting of welcome; hid by the growth upon either side one feels no longer alone, the water-sprites are with him in loving communion and sympathy.

So standing and happily surrounded, I commissioned the gray hackle, at the end of my leader, to ascertain what might be lurking in the shade of the opposite bank, where the current was swift and the water four feet deep, at least. It was taken at once, and inside of five minutes I had a trout of a pound's weight safe in the landing-net. As soon as possible after hooking him, I had drawn away from his hiding-place and coaxed him into shallower and quieter water, so that his neighbors, if he had any, might not be disturbed. After placing him in the creel, I changed the hackle for the coachman and it was taken as readily, the fish being a mate to the first. A third cast resulted in a failure, a fourth brought a rise, a little more line and at the fifth the fly alighted in the acceptable spot, and was taken by a still larger fish.

Changing the coachman for the cofflin, I waded down, close under the bushes of the right bank, crossed a riffle and dropped the fly just where the water slowed up a little, at the foot. It had scarcely touched the surface when I saw the gaping jaws of an apparent leviathan close upon it; at the same instant I struck and the bamboo bent to its work. A leap clear from the water advised me that I had one of the lighter-colored variety and consequently more of a fight on my hands. Five minutes, however, at a guess, sufficed to bring him into the net. He weighed, an hour afterward by my pocket scales, a scant one and three quarter pounds. I lengthened the line a little and brought out another of nearly a pound. If the trout were to keep up to these weights, for only a little while, there would be waste in camp, and I wished for a few smaller. But they did not come to me; either of the next three would weigh three-fourths of a pound, and going back to the slight opening in the brush, through which I entered, I climbed out and returned to camp.

Joshua received the creel and examined its contents.

"You and the Major seem to have the same notions; I thought you would fill up that basket and string a lot on a willer."

"There are quite eight pounds, – sufficient for two meals."

"Yes, I know, but how do you manage to stop? When the fish bite that way I want to catch 'em." Thereupon I read a homily to Joshua on the art of angling, at the conclusion of which he said he understood what I had told the Major in the morning about the "inner sanctuary."

"That is, I have an idea about it – mebbe I'll try it some day; but this is such a dog-on hard world to get along in and buy shoes for the baby! I'm afraid I can't get into your way – a fellow can't live on scenery, you know, and 'tain't easy for old dogs to learn new tricks. But I'll try and not make a trout hog of myself, as you call it, anyway – I think I can manage that much."

He went off with my fish and creel toward the river, singing, and I flattered myself on having made a partial convert.

Just before noon the Major returned, warm and tired, and sought solace of his pipe. He brought with him two willow grouse with their heads shot off. He had found a coal mine in the bluffs above us, near the town, and had discovered other flattering indications of future wealth for those inclined to pick them up. He had also started two deer, "within fifty yards," during his tramp.

"Where are they?" inquired Joshua.

"Over in those hills, I presume," answered the Major, with a nod toward the supposed locality.

"Why! didn't you kill nary one?"

"Nary one."

"Well, I swan – what's the good of carrying a rifle?"

"What's the good of killing what you don't need?"

"Gentlemen, excuse me, I don't mean any offence, but I'm durned if you ain't the queerest pair of cranks in the huntin' and fishin' way, I ever see. I don't know, but mebbe you're right about it, still I can't get it through my hair. Of course, I don't believe in wastin' meat, but, I'd a —had to shot them deer."

"Mr. Miles, you ought to live where there is one deer to a township and a trout to a mile of water – you'd change your mind and want to hang the man who talked as you do."

"How'll you have the grouse cooked, Major – stewed or fried?"

"Either way."

Joshua served them up to us roasted, and they were delicious.

Loitering by the road later in the afternoon I saw the coach on the opposite side of the river, before it came down into the bottom-land. There was a passenger on the box with an umbrella. I waited and recognized Mr. Dide, who had added a fishing-rod to his luggage.

"Weally! – dwivah, stop a moment. I am delighted to see you; do you live in the vicinity?"

I informed him that the camp was just below, and we should be pleased to have him call.

"Chawming – thanks; I shall be delighted to drop in."

He did so, just before supper, very much to the astonishment of Joshua and the surprise of the Major. I had forgotten to apprise my friend of the new arrival and of the invitation I had extended. I also confessed a little wonder to myself at the gentleman's prompt fulfilment of his promise, but was none the less gratified.

"I have heard" (it is impossible to spell the word as he pronounced it) "of Meekah, you know, and the twouting, and thought it would be quite novel to wun ovah. The wide was not vewy inviting, but this is chawming – think so?"

Mr. Dide was so truly delighted with the novelty of his experience, and so full of anxiety to make it known, that he was permitted to run on without interruption. Hitherto he had seemed reticent, now he was overflowing in the opposite direction.

"I've nevah twouted, you know, but I shall twy. I bought a pole and some widiculous-looking flies."

The Major suggested that I knew something about the sport, and would, no doubt, assist him in gratifying his ambition. Of course I would, and did. My office of mentor was not devoid of pleasant incidents. He was to call in the morning, with his tackle, and did so immediately after breakfast. He was not prepared to wade, and I borrowed the Major's boots without leave. The rod was a cheap specimen of ash and lancewood, and the dealer had been fair with him in the matter of line, leaders and flies. The Major will bring down the scales at two hundred, Mr. Dide at one hundred and twenty-five pounds, at a guess; in the Major's boots Mr. Dide, I must confess, appeared at a disadvantage. I adjusted his tackle, even to the winding of the line on the little brass reel above the grip, and led the way to the scene of my own recent exploits.

Mr. Dide, upon entering the water, affirmed that it was cold; there was no gainsaying his assertion. He expressed a doubt of his ability to keep his feet, and I endeavored to assist him. He tossed his fly in the direction I suggested, allowed the point of the rod to drop and the fly floated at the edge of the swirl. I admonished him to hold his rod up; at the same instant a trout hooked himself, the little reel spun round and Mr. Dide exclaimed in great exultation:

"I have got him! I have got him!"

"But you will not keep him long, Mr. Dide, if you do not check the line."

"Aw – but I cawn't, you know – oblige me!" and he held out his umbrella toward me. The trout in the meantime was having his own way; the line was fast disappearing from the reel; suddenly it slacked, his troutship was returning, and rapidly. I supported Mr. Dide by seizing the back of his collar with one hand and relieved him of the umbrella, directing him to reel in the line. The fish was without doubt fatally hooked. Mr. Dide, laboring at the crank with a vigor that would have given a hundred revolutions a second to an ordinary grindstone, succeeded in retrieving the slack. As he did so the fish gave a leap half out of the water, and a struggle that brought the butt of the rod in contact with the fisherman's stomach. Something snapped – it was the tip. Still the hook held, the line could be trusted; if the leader and snell proved true the fish might yet be saved. I directed Mr. Dide to give no more line, but simply to hold the remains of his rod firmly and to stand still, if he could. He endeavored to follow instructions, and I took up my station a little lower down and to one side in shallower water, watching the brave exertions of the quarry to free itself. I bethought me that the umbrella, in the absence of my landing-net, might be put to profitable use. As the fish came my way I suddenly scooped him up from behind, together with an umbrella nearly full of water; the trout went over the edge some time before I could empty the novel device.

"That's the most extwaawdinawy pwoceeding I evah witnessed!" exclaimed Mr. Dide.

Certainly it was beyond anything in my own experience. I concluded that the only way to save the fish was to get to the bank. Mr. Dide declined my offer to take his rod, for which I commended him, but he was doubtful of his ability to stem the current and manage his tackle without my assistance, so I led him ashore and he dragged the trout. Seizing my opportunity, when the nearly exhausted victim was quiet, I lifted him out by the leader. He had hooked himself through the tongue, and so deeply that, notwithstanding his struggles, the wound was but little enlarged, and the use of a knife was required to release him.

Mr. Dide was so much delighted at his success that the damage to his rod was a matter of little importance. He would have continued to fish with the remains of it, but that I convinced him of the impossibility of casting a fly without a tip. He returned to camp and soon came back with the extra one. I concluded to prospect for openings in the brush. Having found one with a promising little eddy below it, I indicated the best place, in my judgment, at which the fly should be delivered. Mr. Dide undertook the feat and the fly caught in the willows behind him. I released it and the next effort resulted in a good hold upon the umbrella, which the gentleman insisted upon keeping over his head. I was constrained to advise him that the umbrella would better be put aside; he surrendered it to me hesitatingly, as if he might be at a loss without it. He splashed the fly into the water within a rod of the place I had suggested, but that was of no importance; a trout took it in a moment and in the next was flying high in air and eventually became entangled in the brush. I wondered whether first efforts were ordinarily attended with the results I had witnessed, or whether my protégé were specially skilled in awkwardness. After he had placed me and my apparel in jeopardy several times I took the rod and endeavored to show him how to make a cast; then I did not blame him so much. But he felt encouraged, and I betook myself to camp, leaving him to work out his own salvation. He came back before noon with the two trout; his rod was broken again and he was very wet, having evidently been up to his neck in water.

CHAPTER VII.

ON THE SOUTH FORK

The particulars of the disaster to Mr. Dide and what led up to it were brief:

"I hooked a vewy big twout – he would have weighed ten pounds – "

"No, no, Mr. Dide – " interrupted the Major.

"Pon honah!"

"The speed with which you have become proficient as a fisherman is something marvellous, Mr. Dide. Ten-pounders in this water are not within the memory of the oldest inhabitant."

"Weally, he was twice as big as the one we hooked this mawning – "

"Then he must have weighed not quite three pounds, Mr. Dide. The only sure way is to catch your fish and weigh him on the scales."

"Major! Major! think of the penalty provided against that sort of wit."

"It was not so intended, I assure you, my boy."

"But, weally, he must have weighed moah than thwee pounds, Majah, he was so big and he smashed the pole, you know! I hooked him, and he stwuggled violently for a gweat while, and when I sought to pull him out the pole bwoke; he lay on the watah and I sought to secuah him by going in myself and catching him in my hands; it was vewy cold, 'pon honah; he moved away and I followed him into a hole, but he eluded me."

"My dear sir, you're quite as intrepid as Kit North. You will make an angler, certainly."

"Thanks – vewy much delighted, I assuah you. I have been devising another method of casting the fly, majah. I find it vewy difficult, and it makes my ahms ache. I think I will take a piece of aldah and make a pop-gun and pop the fly out. Did you evah twy it?"

"I never did; with the pop-gun and umbrella you will revolutionize the science of angling."

"No? weally? But the umbwella was not my device, you know," Mr. Dide modestly protested.

"Still, you made the project possible."

"Think so?"

"Do you shoot, Mr. Dide?"

"Aw, a little. I have pwacticed some with a Winchestah, at a tawget, you know."

The Major deemed it advisable to admonish the gentleman that it would be well for him to seek a change of clothing, or at least to wring out his garments and hang them on the bushes to dry. The latter part of the suggestion was rejected as impossible – "somebody might come, you know" – notwithstanding the Major offered him the use of a rubber coat during the emergency. Mr. Dide therefore trudged off toward the town, leaving an impression, to one ignorant of the cause, that a miniature sprinkler had just passed over the road. After his departure I informed the Major that the gentleman had intimated a desire to accompany us during the remainder of our trip.

"If you can stand it, I can, my boy."

We broke camp and passed through Meeker early the following morning. The town – the site of the old military post – is pleasantly situated on a level place in the valley, skirted on one side by low hills and on the other by the river, from which rises a steep bluff; on the summit of this stands the remains of an adobe signal station, profiled against the background of sky. There is a square in the town, and surrounding it the adobe buildings erected by the government, but now utilized by the peaceful citizens as dwellings or stores. Indians are not presumed capable of bombs, mortars or big guns, and, of course, in selecting a military post with a view to their methods and capabilities a valley with water is better than a hill-top without. The country is rich with ripening grain, and every available acre is either being prepared for cultivation or is actually under tillage. The mountains that border all this valley are low and many covered with timber to their summits. Between the gaps of the closer hills one may discover glades opulent in pasturage.

Near noon we lunched at an excellent spring a little way from the forks of the river. We were overtaken here by Mr. Dide on horseback, for whom we had left, at the hotel, an invitation to join us. He had provided himself with a new rod and a pair of blankets. What the settlers thought of a man on horseback, with a glass in his eye and an umbrella over his head, riding through the country, has not yet transpired. He had experienced some difficulty at the start; the horse, objecting to the extraordinary equipment of the rider, had endeavored to throw him off, but failing in that, ran away. The dogs also had added to his discomfiture by making frequent sorties, threatening his legs and vociferously assailing the heels of his steed. Mr. Dide had, however, survived all impediments and came up smiling.

The valley of the South Fork is somewhat narrower than that of the main river through which we had come. The brush marks the course of the stream on the left, and beyond it the mountains rise gradually for perhaps two thousand feet, while to the right they reach about the same altitude. The aspen groves are abundant, their lighter green foliage being interspersed with the darker hue of the pines, clothing the sloping hillsides from the base to the summit. The road is smooth and we can trot the horses readily. At times we are close to the river and again half a mile away. Coming to a great clump of bushes on the left, a family of willow grouse was flushed from the grass near the road-side; there were six in the flock, and the major potted four of the young ones, they having alighted in the adjacent trees. We had gathered up the birds and gone but a little way when Joshua cried out excitedly:

"Look at her! look at her! right ahead there, in the road. Where's the rifle – gimme the rifle!"