Page:Oregon, End of the Trail.djvu/134



because we had to have a solid rock foundation. That required patience to fit the rocks together and yet allow space through the center so that water forced in by the ocean waves would surge up through it and trickle down the mountains, to irrigate the trees which we intended to plant."

When Gervais sighted an elk, he gave directions to his hounds and paddled his canoe home as fast as he could. Scarcely reaching his cabin before the elk would lope into sight, closely followed by the dogs, he would shoot it at his door.

Animals figured largely in pioneer tall tales. A ravenous cougar met a hunter on a mountain trail. When it sprang, the man rammed his hand down its throat, caught it by the tail, deftly flipped it wrong side out, and it tickled itself to death. A bear with a thorn in its paw mutely begged and obtained aid from an Oregonian. Imagine his astonishment the next morning to discover that during the night the grateful animal had brought him two hams and a side of bacon. A farmer in Eastern Oregon, who missed first his hogs, then his ripened corn, learned that bears had killed and cured the hogs and had ricked the corn in a secluded place.

In primitive Curry County areas wild hogs enjoy their porcine Eden, each succeeding generation teaching its young to sleep with heads downhill so that they may escape faster when disturbed by hunters. The first man to discover Chinook salmon in the Columbia, caught 264 in a day and. carried them across the river by walking on the backs of other fish. His greatest feat, however, was learning the Chinook jargon in 15 minutes from listening to salmon talk. Sheepherders claim that they rub tobacco juice in their eyes to keep awake during their long vigils. An erratic early-day sawmill in Union County received a cottonwood log, from which it cut seven thin boards and a wagonload of sawdust. Within three days, the hot sunshine so enlivened the boards that they warped themselves out of the lumber yard and were found a mile away in a neighbor's corral.

An inhabitant of the upper Rogue River, in passing down a narrow trail, shoved a huge boulder from his path. It crashed down the canyon, reached the bottom, and to his amazement, rolled up the other side. It poised on the crest then plunged down again, only to ascend to its original resting place. The native fled. Returning some weeks later, he discovered the rock had cut a new transverse canyon and was still crashing back and forth, as regular as a pendulum.

Frogs and snakes in Klamath County formerly made winter migra-