254 THE WILDERNESS OF THE UPPER YUKON 



The second day some dome-shaped mountains of sub- 

 dued type loomed up ahead in the distance west of the 

 river. Dead king-salmon were on the bars, and all the 

 ravens in the country seemed to be congregated along the 

 river for the purpose of feeding on them. The farther up 

 we went, the more salmon we saw spawning in the pools. 

 Thousands were dead on the bars or dying in the water, 

 and equal numbers were still spawning or struggling up 

 against the current; hundreds, too weakened to remain, 

 were drifting down, many striving to swim against the 

 current, but without strength left to do so. We were there 

 during the end of the spawning season, the last stage in the 

 life of those noble fish. Observing that enormous sacri- 

 fice of life, I reflected on it without discovering the Benefi- 

 cent Law of nature or Goodness of Design, by virtue of 

 which countless millions of these magnificent fish are an- 

 nually sacrificed in the full flush of life, for the sake of 

 propagating their race. Battered, bruised, and torn by 

 their long journey of nearly twenty-three hundred miles 

 from Bering Sea, stemming the sweeping current, forcing 

 their way through dashing rapids, they finally deposit 

 and fertilize their eggs as their life ebbs away. 



I noticed the same birds that were seen on the Mac- 

 Millan River, but fish-hawks were very abundant, and 

 bald eagles were present the only place I have ever seen 

 them in the interior of either the Yukon Territory or 

 Alaska. Rabbits and red squirrels were numerous, but 

 the little beaver cutting that I noticed was very old, the 

 Indians having practically exterminated the beavers long 

 before. On the lower parts of the river moose tracks 



