Myriad wild fowl covered
the sea. The coast became beetling precipice, that rolled inland
forest-clad to mountains jagging ragged peaks through the clouds. This
was the Olympus Range, first noticed by Meares, and to-day seen for
miles out at sea like a ridge of opalescent domes suspended in
mid-heaven.
Vancouver was gliding into the Straits of Fuca when the slender colors
of a far ship floated above the blue horizon outward bound. Another
wave-roll, and the flag was seen to be above full-blown sails and a
square-hulled, trim little trader of America. At six in the morning of
April 29, the American saluted with a {269} cannon-shot. Vancouver
answered with a charge from his decks, rightly guessing this was Robert
Gray on the _Columbia_.
[Illustration: The _Columbia_ in a Squall.]
Puget and Menzies were sent to inquire about Gray's cruise. They
brought back word that Gray had been fifty miles up the Straits of
Fuca; and--most astounding to Vancouver's ambitions--that the American
had been off the mouth of a river south of the straits at 46 degrees 10
minutes, where the tide prevented entrance for nine days.
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