SALMON. 73 



occupy the singular assembly; for at these 

 annual gatherings, when all jointly labour in 

 catching and curing the winter supply of salmon, 

 feuds and dislikes are for the time laid by, or, 

 as they figuratively express it, ' The hatchet is 

 buried.' 



The medicine-men (doctors and conjurors) of 

 the different tribes busily work their charms and 

 incantations to insure an abundant run of fish. 

 One of the illustrations is drawn from a photo- 

 graph of the falls. The Indians at first steadily 

 refused to allow the photographer and his ma- 

 chine to come near the falls, declaring it a 

 box of bad ' medicine ' that would surely drive 

 every salmon away ; and not until an old Romish 

 priest who was at the trading-post explained 

 it to them, did they permit a photograph to 

 be taken. 



The watchers announce the welcome tidings 

 of the salmon arrival, and the business begins. 

 The baskets are hung in places where past 

 experience has taught the Indians salmon ge- 

 nerally leap, in their attempts to clear the falls. 

 The first few that arrive are frequently speared 

 from the rocks. They are in such vast numbers 

 during the height of the 'run,' that one could 

 not well throw a stone into the water at the 



