184 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES 



were a dull frosted silver, with here and there a small 

 electric lamp behind the scales to make its jewels 

 sparkle. The lamps alternated with opals increased 

 on the side; the bellies were of a blazing mother-of- 

 pearl. It would be hard to imagine a less imaginative 

 name than "white" fish for such a shining, burning 

 opalescence. Indian names are usually descriptive, 



Tha-sess San-dou-ay two miles away (Swallow Island) 



but their name for this is simply "The Fish." All 

 others are mere dilutes and cheap imitations, but the 

 Coregonus is at all times and par excellence "The Fish." 



Nevertheless, in looking at it I could not help feeling 

 that this is the fat swine, or the beef Durham of its 

 kind. The head, gills, fins, tail, vital organs and bones 

 all were reduced to a minimum and the meat parts 

 enlarged and solidified, as though they were the prod- 

 uct of ages of careful breeding by man to produce a 

 perfect food fish, a breeding that has been crowned 

 with the crown of absolute success. 



The Indians know, for the best of reasons, the just 

 value of every native food. When Rabbits abound 

 they live on them but do not prosper; they call it 

 "starving on rabbits." When Caribou meat is plenty 

 they eat it, but crave flour. When Moose is at hand 

 they eat it, and are strong. When Jack-fish, Sucker, 

 Conies, and Trout are there, they take them as a vari- 

 ant; but on Whitefish, as on Moose, they can live with- 



