108 FISH HARVESTING. 
fish, lashing the sea with their paddles, and ut- 
tering the most fiendish yells. Out leap the fish 
from the water, in their panic to escape this (to 
their affrighted senses) terrible monster; and if 
not ‘out of the fryingpan into the fire,’ it is out 
of the sea into the canoes—which in the long 
run I take to be pretty much the same thing. 
It appears to be a singular trait in the cha- 
racter of viviparous fish, that of leaping high 
out of the water on the slightest alarm. I have 
often seen them jump into my boat when rowing 
through a shoal, which is certainly most accom- 
modating. The Indians also spear them: they 
use a long slender haft with four barbed points, 
arranged in a circle, but bent so as to make them 
stand at a considerable distance from each other. 
With this spear they strike into a shoal of fish, 
and generally impale three or four; many are 
caught with hooks, but they bite shily, the only 
baits I have seen taken being salmon-roe nearly 
putrid, or bits of crab. 
Just prior to my leaving Vancouver Island, 
numbers were netted by some Italian fishermen 
who had a seine. They found a ready sale 
for them in the market, but as a table-dainty they 
are scarcely worth eating; the flesh is insipid, 
watery, and flabby, and I am convinced that no 
