92 FISH HARVESTING. 
with their harvest of ‘living silver.’ When they 
have heaped as much as this frail craft will 
safely carry, they paddle ashore, drag the boats 
up on the shelving beach, overturn them as 
the quickest way of discharging cargo, relaunch, 
and go back to rake up another load. This 
labour goes on until the moon has set behind 
the mountain-peaks and the fish disappear, for 
it is their habit rarely to come to the surface 
except in the night. The sport over, we glide 
under the dark rocks, haul up the canoe, and lie 
before the log-fire to sleep long and soundly. 
The next labour is that of the squaws, who 
have to do the curing, drying, and oil-making. 
Seated in a circle, they are busy stringing the 
fish. They do not gut or in any way clean them, 
but simply pass long smooth sticks through 
their eyes, skewering on each stick as many as 
it will hold, and then lashing a smaller piece trans- 
versely across the ends, to prevent the fish from 
slipping off the skewer. This done, next follows 
the drying, which is generally achieved in the 
thick smoke at the top of the sheds, the sticks of 
fish being there hung up side by side. ‘They soon 
dry, and acquire a flavour of wood-smoke, which 
helps also to preserve them. No salt is used 
by Indians in any of their systems of curing fish. 
