Bridge Port Fraser River

August 28th /59

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Dear Father

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Since Feb. I have not written home I believe as I have been unfavourably situated for writing and unsettled and also since we have no regular mails or express there is a great uncertainty in the conveyance of papers of any description. Even now I can write nothing which will be of interest or give you any gratification farther than the knowledge that I’m enjoying my usual good health in the mountains of British Columbia. I wintered on Fraser River about one hundred and thirty miles from its mouth in the Cascade Mountains and found the cold pretty severe from the first Dec. until Feb when the ice broke up and thinking the river was clear I started up it in canoe nearly a month too early as we had many portages to make over the ice, suffering much from the severity of the cold. This trip was attended with great expense by delays and the slowness of our progress consequent upon the obstructions in the navigation of the river, the still water being frozen and the balance being mostly rapids up which a canoe must be hauled by line and taken out of the water altogether in many places. It was also a journey of fatigue such as only the hardiest constitutions or such as are endowed with uncommon powers of endurance can go through.

The first of April I reached Bridge river where I concluded to remain for a time and recruit my strength proposing to remain only a few weeks probably but I’m still here and in all probability shall stop near where I now am until cold weather.

In mining I have not been as prosperous as I could have wished. Should probably have saved more money had I remained at my trade though there is some doubt about that inasmuch as the immigration from California and elsewhere has brought into the country more laborers and tradesmen of every description than can find regular employment and consequently the price of all kinds of labor is greatly reduced with the uncertainty of constant employ even at the reduced rates. The climate where I now am is fine from March to December but the remainder of the year is very cold. The summers are dry, there being no rain to speak of and in winter the fall of snow is light. The soil is not adapted to agricultural purposes, the timber is poor and the face of the country rocky and mountainous and almost destitute of wild game such as the sportsman delights in.

Since Jan. I have received no letters from the States though perhaps there may be some now lying at Port Townsend as I’ve received nothing from there of a later date than May first.

I shall write down now to have any letters there may be there forwarded now and I hope I may get some news from home for be assured I’m anxious to know how fortune deals by my friends.

Whatever letters you write, direct to Port Townsend as formerly as I have a friend there who will send them on to me wherever I may be. Though I do not write home so often as you could wish me to, do not lay it to forgetfulness or want of esteem but remember that I’m a dweller in tents and not the habitant of a cottage enjoying the luxuries of a drawing room furnished with tables, chairs, etc. Since July a year ago I’ve had no better roof above me than canvass while nights innumerable I have lodged in the open air, but do not think I experience any harm from such exposure for since I left home I have become inured to such a life and find that many of the conveniences which formerly I highly prized can be well dispensed with and in a dry climate like this one, can sleep as soundly and with as much enjoyment wrapped in his blanket upon the dry earth as though he reclined upon a bed of down surrounded by marble walls decorated with all the art which science and wealth can apply.

I have no leisure to write farther now, no valuable information to give.

 

Your affectionate son

Whit Chase