SALMON BLOSSOMS AND PINK GRASS. 



The advertised time for the steamers to leave Portland for 

 San Francisco is midnight. Long before that hour the pas- 

 sengers had taken possession of their state-rooms. At ten o'clock 

 the main saloon presented a gay scene. We had three bridal 

 parties on the boat. Each bride had her many friends, and each 

 friend brought flowers. The odor of the flowers, the merry 

 voices of the bright young people, and the many colored lights 

 from the handsome chandelier thrown upon them, made a bright 

 and pretty picture. 



By eleven o'clock the saloon was quiet, all had retired, and 

 when the huge wheels turned quickly in their start, sleep had 

 taken possession of the passengers. 



The early morning found us on the Columbia River. The 

 sight that greeted us as we came out on the guards was grand 

 and impressive. Hundreds of small salmon fishing smacks could 

 be seen in every direction as we neared Astoria. The fisher- 

 men had stretched enormous nets across the river, and on two 

 occasions our steamer cut through them, much to the con- 

 sternation of their owners, who, seeing the danger, vigorously 

 attempted to draw them in, but were obliged to abandon them as 

 the great steamer cut its way, regardless of the damage it was 

 doing to the valuable property of the fishermen. 



Salmon fishing is the principal occupation of the male 

 population of Astoria. A man owning his little sailboat and 

 fishing nets is considered to have a good start in life. Immense 



