BASS-FISHING IN SUNGAHNEETUK 121 



fisher stealing warily through the thicket in a coat 

 now rusty and ragged, though two months ago, 

 sleek and glossy enough. Without rod, snare, or 

 spear, the mink is a notable destroyer of fish. 

 Not so silent is the kingfisher that comes jerking 

 his way through the air, sending his rattling cry 

 before him and leaving its echoes clattering far 

 behind him. Now he hangs as if suspended by a 

 thread while he scans the water twenty feet be- 

 neath him. Then the thread breaks, and he drops 

 headlong, and, almost before the spray of his 

 plunge has fallen, rises with a little fish on his short 

 spear. 



Here, too, minnows are taken in succession by 

 some fish biting differently from a bass, but evi- 

 dently larger than rock-bass or perch. A third 

 minnow is offered him grudgingly, for frequent 

 drafts and some deaths occurring in spite of half- 

 hourly changes of the water have reduced the little 

 prisoners of the bait-kettle to a dozen. Success has 

 made him bold, and boldness works his ruin, for 

 this time he swallows hook and bait. He swims 

 deeper than the bass, and as stubbornly for a 

 while, but gives up sooner, and, as he is drawn 

 gasping alongside the bank, proves to be a fine 

 pike-perch of two and a half or three pounds' 

 weight. He is not a frequent navigator so far up 

 the stream, but is often caught near the mouth in 

 adjacent Wonakakatuk and in great numbers in the 



