Kindred of the Dust | Page 2

years old. Consequently, it
appears only on the very latest state maps and in the smallest possible
type.
When Hector McKaye first gazed upon the bight, the transcontinental
lines had not yet begun to consider the thrusting of their tentacles into
southwestern Washington, and, with the exception of those regions
where good harbors had partially solved the problem of transportation,
timber in Washington was very cheap. Consequently, since Hector
McKaye was one of those hardy men who never hesitate to take that
which no man denies them, he reached forth and acquired timber.
A strip of land a quarter of a mile wide and fronting the beach was

barren of commercial timber. As grazing-land, Hector McKaye was
enabled to file on a full section of this, and, with its acquisition, he
owned the key to the outlet. While "proving up" his claim, he operated
a general store for trading with the Indians and trappers, and at this he
prospered. From time to time he purchased timber-claims from the
trappers as fast as they "proved up," paying for these stumpage-prices
varying from twenty-five to fifty cents per thousand.
On his frequent trips to the outer world, McKaye extolled the
opportunities for acquiring good timber-claims down on the Skookum;
he advertised them in letters and in discreet interviews with the editors
of little newspapers in the sawmill towns on Puget Sound and Grays
Harhor; he let it be known that an honest fellow could secure credit for
a winter's provisions from him, and pay for it with pelts in the spring.
The influx of homesteaders increased--single men, for the most part,
and poor--men who labored six months of the year elsewhere and lived
the remaining six months in rude log huts on their claims down on the
Skookum. And when the requirements of the homestead laws had been
complied with and a patent to their quarter-section obtained from the
Land Office in Washington, the homesteaders were ready to sell and
move on to other and greener pastures. So they sold to the only possible
purchaser, Hector McKaye, and departed, quite satisfied with a profit
which they flattered themselves had been the result of their own
prudence and foresight.
Thus, in the course of ten years, Hector McKaye' acquired ten thousand
acres of splendid Douglas fir and white cedar. But he had not been
successful in acquiring claims along the south bank of the Skookum.
For some mysterious reason, he soon found claims on the north bank
cheaper and easier to secure, albeit the timber showed no variance in
quantity or quality. Discreet investigations brought to light the fact that
he had a competitor--one Martin Darrow, who dwelt in St. Paul,
Minnesota. To St. Paul, therefore, journeyed Hector McKaye, and
sought an audience with Martin Darrow.
"I'm McKaye, from the Skookum River, Washington," he announced,
without preamble.
"I've been expecting you, Mr. McKaye," Darrow replied. "Got a
proposition to submit?"
"Naturally, or I wouldn't have come to St. Paul. I notice you have a

weakness for the timber on the south bank of the Skookum. You've
opposed me there half a dozen times and won. I have also observed that
I have a free hand with claims north of the river. That's fair--and there's
timber enough for two. Hereafter, I'll keep to my own side of the river."
"I see we're going to come to an understanding, Mr. McKaye. What
will you give me to stick to my side of the river?"
"An outlet through the bight for your product when you commence
manufacturing. I control the lower half-mile of the river and the only
available mill-sites. I'll give you a mill-site if you'll pay half the
expense of digging a new channel for the Skookum, and changing its
course so it will emerge into the still, deep water under the lee of Tyee
Head."
"We'll do business," said Martin Darrow--and they did, although it was
many years after Hector McKaye had incorporated the Tyee Lumber
Company and founded his town of Port Agnew before Darrow began
operations.
True to his promise, McKaye deeded him a mill-and town-site, and he
founded a settlement on the eastern edge of Port Agnew, but quite
distinct from it, and called it Darrow, after himself. It was not a
community that Hector McKaye approved of, for it was squalid and
unsanitary, and its untidy, unpainted shacks of rough lumber harbored
southern European labor, of which Hector McKaye would have none.
In Darrow, also, there were three groggeries and a gambling-house,
with the usual concomitant of women whose profession is the oldest
and the saddest in the world.
Following his discovery of the Bight of Tyee, a quarter of a century
passed. A man may prosper much in twenty-five years, and Hector
McKaye, albeit American born, was bred of an