over all the still pools when Kopseep turned 

 down-stream again, leaving the eggs of his 

 mate safely covered in the new nest. He 

 was like a kelt, or black salmon, now, — that 

 is, a dark fish that has grown thin and hungry 

 from tarrying and fasting too long in fresh 

 water. Down he went, through the rapids 

 and over the falls, in a desperate hurry that 

 made him speed faster than the swift river, 

 which had seemed so wonderful on his first 

 journey in the springtime. In a single day's 

 racing he covered the entire distance, snap- 

 ping up every little fish that crossed his swift 

 path, and the next day found him back in 

 his den in the rocky ridge under the ocean. 

 This was the salmon's own foraging ground ; 

 and among the multitudes that swarmed there 

 Kopseep saw numerous fat young grilse, 

 almost as big as himself ; but he knew not 

 that these were the same little sisters that he 

 had met coming down, and that had changed 

 rapidly from smolt to grilse while he was 

 fighting his hard way up the river. 



The few rare fishermen who visit this part 

 of the coast wonder why in this river — and 



369 



The Story 

 of Kopseep 



