A TRIP TO INDIAN HENRY'S

Between the valleys through which flow the Kautz and Tahoma Rivers lies a subalpine plateau -- one of the many similar regions that encircle "The Mountain" at a like elevation. But this one, Indian Henry's Hunting Ground, is outstanding. No road penetrates it. One may reach it only by trail, six miles from Longmire or from the opposite direction four miles from the West Side Highway which is now under construction. And so it has changed little, if any, in appearance since the time when Indian Henry, otherwise Satulick, used to visit the region in company with other Indians to hunt and to pick huckleberries in order to provide food for the coming winter.

The trail -- part of the Wonderland Trail which completely encircles the "Mountain" -- follows up the Tahoma River from the West Side Road and crosses the stream just below the snout of the Tahoma Glaciers. The ice, like that of all glaciers on Mt. Rainier at the glacial terminus, contains a large percentage of rock debris and from this mass protrudes the huge bulk of Glacier Island which has in some manner escaped destruction at the hands of the glaciers persisting in spite of the forces that have gouged but a deep canyon all about it. Upon this rocky, inhospitable area are a few scattered, alpine trees and it was here that we saw a lone goat wandering about on the steep slopes grazing upon the meager grasses that occur there. Upon the trail, too, as we climbed from the river bar we saw comparatively fresh goat tracks but Billy (or Nanny whichever it happened to be ) was no where in sight.

Reaching the Indian Henry Patrol Cabin we made ready for the night's stay and then walked out along the ridge to Mirror Lake, the rendezvous of photographers who seek the remarkable reflection of "The Mountain" available there, and then to the edge of the glacial canyon beyond. From this vantage point we swept the opposite ridges with our glasses discovering, at last, a band of about twelve goat on Sunrise Ridge. As they were in scattered timber their number could not be definitely ascertained but we watched them as they grazed up the hillside in order to keep in the sun as the late afternoon shadows crept higher upon the hills and finally they disappeared over the crest of the ridge to the other side where the last rays would linger longest.

But morning found the storm clouds resting low, enveloping the alpine meadow in mist and alternately pelting the cabin with rain and snow and hail. The weather refused to make a change for the better and so we struck out for Longmire, six miles distant in spite of adverse conditions. As we left a Sharp-Shinned Hawk, easily identified by his long legs and long, banded tail, skimmed close to the ground. His passage was marked by a chorus of excited exclamations on the part of the Chickadees and Chipmunks (the latter not having gone into hibernation as yet) as they darted for cover. Below Squaw Lake, in the dense cover of Alaska Cedar and Fir, we saw several deer, approaching to within a few feet of them before they fled bounding over logs and down timber with astonishing ease and grace. Approaching winter and its snows are driving these animals to the lower elevations of the park. They are a problem here for before spring comes again the deep shows will force them to seek food beyond the Park's boundaries and then these deer, practically unafraid of man through his summer's association with him in this protected area, will be easy victims for unprincipled hunters. Chestnut-Backed Chickadees were, the most numerous of the birds but we saw several flocks of Kinglets also. Finally we crossed Kautz Creek, then an old burn atop the Ramparts, dropping down to Longmire via a series of switchbacks -- having accomplished our original purpose of checking the accuracy of a map of forest types now in the process of preparation.