272 MULE-HUNTING EXPEDITION. 



The Indians near my camp were fishing in 

 a small mountain-stream, if baling out fish by 

 the bucketful could be called fishing. Kound- 

 fish (Coregomis quadr Hater alls) and brook-trout 

 (Fario stellatus) were in such masses (I cannot 

 find a better word) that we dipped out, with 

 baskets and our hands, in ten minutes, enough 



o 



fish to fill two large iron pails that we carried 

 with us. How such hosts of fish obtain food, or 

 where they find room to deposit their ova, are 

 mysteries. The Indians were splitting and dry- 

 ing them in the sun strung on long peeled rods. 



May l$tli. Had no trouble with these Indians. 

 Hire two of them to aid me in again crossing the 

 Klamath river, where it runs from the upper into 

 the lower Klamath lake. For the first four miles 

 we ascend a steep mountain, rather thickly tim- 

 bered. Killed a grey deer, and saw a splendid 

 herd of wapiti ; but the bell frightened them, so I 

 did not get a shot. Cross the ridge, and descend 

 on an open grassy flat, surrounding the lower 

 Klamath lake, which I should say, at a rough 

 guess, is thirty miles in circumference. It is in 

 reality more like a huge swamp than a lake; 

 simply patches of open water, peeping out from 

 a rank growth of rushes at least twelve feet in 

 height. 



I should think this place must be the ' head 



