Moberly, "History of Cariboo Wagon Road", continued
(Part 7 of 13)

Time passed on and unpaid for work continued to be done, when at last Mr. Oppenheimer returned. He had succeeded in getting a considerable sum of money from the Government, but nothing like what should have been paid. Mr. Lewis got discouraged and disgusted and was of the opinion that we could not depend upon the government, and wished me to stop the works. I therefore bought out Mr. Lewis' interest in the charter. It was arranged between Mr. Oppenheimer and myself that he should at once return to Victoria and endeavor to get some more money from the Government, and that I should put matters in as satisfactory a shape as possible with the money he had brought, and then be guided by circumstances as to my future proceedings.

I had now got large camps of men at Nicomen, and at a point between that place and Cook's ferry, another established a few miles above Cook's ferry, and one near Ashcroft Creek, and as it was imperative that it should be decided where the Yale-Cariboo road should be located in order to obtain the best line to form a junction with the wagon road then in course of construction from Lillooet over Pavilion mountain, I took a splendid horse I had, a blanket and what provisions I could cram into my saddle bags and started alone to explore through Maiden Creek Valley to where the town of Clinton is now built, and also the valley of the Bonaparte River to the Second Crossing, which was so named as the old pack trail to Cariboo, over the Loon Lake Mountain, crossed the Bonaparte River the second time at that point.

I proceeded from Clinton by way of a small stream that falls into the Bonaparte, and thence passing along the foot of Castle Mountain, which was so named from its resemblance to a vast feudal castle of the Middle Ages. I finally reached the Second Crossing of the Bonaparte, where I fully expected to recruit for a day at the wayside house that in the early days had been built there.

The weather for the last few days during my journey had been very rainy, the mosquitoes and horseflies in swarms and sleeping, or rather trying to sleep, on the wet ground, made matters exceedingly unpleasant, and as I had only my horse for a companion I felt very lonely. My provisions were all gone and as I was very hungry I was anticipating how much I would enjoy a good meal of bacon and beans and some hot coffee, and possibly bread. I was woefully disappointed, for when I arrived at the Second Crossing I found that the house and other buildings had been burned down and the place was completely deserted. Finding a few half-grown onions in what had been a garden, I devoured them, and then building a good fire I dozed through a miserable night, very much pestered by mosquitoes and drenched with rain.

A short examination of the topographical features of the surrounding country convinced me that the better route to adopt for the wagon road would be the valley of Maiden Creek, and that the junction of the Yale-Cariboo wagon road with the road being built from Lillooet over the Pavilion mountain should be where it is, at Clinton.

Having accomplished the object of my explorations I decided to return by the trail over the Loon Lake Mountain, as I had learned from different packers that there was an abundance of good grass around Loon Lake, which is situated on a plateau near the top of the mountain. I therefore ascended the steep mountain by an execrable trail through the woods, and as the heavy rains had made the trail a ditch, full of stones and boulders, and the flies being indefatigable in their persecutions, travelling up this mountain was most unpleasant. After weary hours I at last emerged out of the forest, and came upon a prairie covered with green grass, when just as I was about to unsaddle my horse to let him have a good feed, I espied a column of smoke at the far end of the prairie, and soon made out a large train of pack animals and packers that were encamped there. I instantly remounted and cantered joyfully for the fire, and on approaching it was hailed by a well-known voice in these words: "Hello, Moberly, is that you?" to which I answered: "Yes, Mac, have you got anything to eat in your camp?" to which the answer was: "Yes, and plenty to drink, too; come on old man and regale yourself. What the devil brings you here?" My friend was the late Captain Allan Macdonald. He was the son of one of the former prominent officers of the Hon. Hudson's Bay Company, and was born at Fort Colvile.

I had a very sumptuous meal of the staple food of the country -- bacon and beans -- and an unlimited supply of the grand old creamy Hudson's Bay rum. I had made Mr. Macdonald's acquaintance on the steamer Panama, in 1858, when I was on my way from San Francisco to Victoria. The next time I met Captain Macdonald was many years afterwards when he was stationed at Fort Osborne in Winnipeg, with the military force under the command of the late Colonel Osborne Smith, and the last time I saw him was some years ago, when on his way to the Narrows of Lake Manitoba, where as Indian agent of that district, he resided.

I remained over the day at this place, and as the afternoon was fine we found that the small stream which flows out of Loon Lake abounded with brook trout, so we improvised a sort of drag net out of an old horse blanket and managed to catch a plentiful supply of large trout, upon which we feasted.