Upon the eastern slope of the shores of this bay lay the two towns, Port Steilacoom, and Steilacoom City, both established in 1851. A far larger trade centered here than at any other point on Puget Sound, and we decided on a halt to make ourselves acquainted with the surroundings. A mile and a half from the shore we found also Fort Steilacoom. It was simply the camp of a company of United States soldiers, quartered in wooden shells of houses and log cabins. Intense rivalry ran between the two towns, upper and lower Steilacoom, at this time. As a result things were booming. We were sorely tempted to accept the flattering offer of four dollars a day for common labor in a timber camp, but concluded not to be swerved from the search for a new homesite. During this visit we began seeing Indians in considerable numbers. They seemed to be a listless lot, with no thought for the future, or even for the immediate present. The Indians in those days seemed to work or play by spurts and spells. Here and there we saw a family industriously pursuing some object; but as a class they seemed to me the laziest set of people on earth. That opinion was materially modified later, as I became better acquainted with their habits. I have found just as industrious people, both men and women, among the Indians as among the whites. The workers, it may be said, are less numerous among the men; the women are all industrious. Should we camp here and spy out the land, or should we go forward and see what lay before us? After a sober second thought, we realized that we had nothing to trade but labor; and we had not come as far as this to be laborers for hire. We had come to find a place to make a farm, and a farm we were going to have. Again we set about searching for claims, and the more we searched the less we liked the look of things. Finally, on the fourth day, after a long, wearisome tramp, we cast off at high tide, and in a dead calm, to continue our cruise. Oliver soon dropped into a comfortable afternoon nap, leaving me in full command. As the sun shone warm and the tide was taking us rapidly in the direction we wanted to go, why shouldn't I doze a little too, even if we did miss some of the sightseeing? I was aroused from my nap by Oliver's exclaiming, "What is that?" Then, half to himself, "As I live, it's a deer swimming out here in the bay!" "It surely can't be," I responded, three quarters asleep. "That's what it is!" he asserted. We were wide awake now and gave chase. Very soon we caught up with the animal and succeeded in throwing a rope over its horns. By this time we had drifted into the Narrows, and we soon found we had something more important to do than to tow a deer. We were among the tide rips of the Sound. Turning the deer loose, we pulled our best for the shore, and found shelter in an eddy. A perpendicular bluff rose from the highwater mark, leaving no place for camp fire or bed.