The Salmon-canning Industry 
house and take one. One, or a dozen, would not 
be missed in that surfeit. 
The salmon are brought from the nets or 
traps in lighters to the wharf. Here they are liter- 
ally pitchforked into tubs, which are in turn hauled 
up by the aid of a derrick to the wharf, and then 
dumped into trucks that are waiting to receive 
them. The truck when full is pushed to the fish- 
house, where the fish are turned out on to the floor 
to await the actual process ofcanning. There are 
fish weighing from forty to twelve pounds; no one 
seems to care whether an extra big one is on the 
dump, but I could not help my thoughts wander- 
ing to rods and tackle, and wishing I could let 
some of those monsters put up a fight for their 
lives. The white residents in the district rarely 
eat salmon—there are too many of them, I 
suppose. If they do fancy this fish they cut out 
the belly portion only for consumption, as they 
say this is the fattest and choicest part. Wether- 
bee was, he told me, in the habit of salting in 
barrels the bellies of some of the fish, which he 
took back to San Francisco as presents for his 
friends. 
The actual process of canning proceeds apace ; 
every one is working at high pressure in order to 
dispose of this huge amount of fish. Two or 
more Chinamen stand at a table holding in their 
hands a fish each. With a dexterous blow of a 
knife they cut off the head, tail, and fins of the 
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