Outfit— The Gaff. 69 



carried it off to the ice-house. I was too' obtuse to under- 

 stand a mild suggestion from my host, that if I varied my 

 usual practice of giving my fish to the Indians by turning 

 this one over to him, he would find it very useful. 



A hint to the wise and the wily is sufficient. As soon 

 as his back was turned I cut the lashings that bound the 

 gaff to its staff, and hid it in the bottom of my trunk. Hav- 

 ing thus nine points of the law in my favor, I approached 

 the owner of the gaff in pursuit of the lacking tenth, with 

 that placid smile and bland demeanor which usually veil 

 duplicity. As I expected, another mild intimation that 

 the salmon would be useful was soon offered. But I was 

 very doubtful what I should do with that salmon. Then 

 I changed the subject to the gaff — where it was made and 

 whom by, and could one like it be had, and at what cost. 

 No sooner did he name the price than I pushed the money 

 into his astonished hand, told him to go and have one 

 made, and that the salmon he desired should be his for 

 the trouble; that as a good citizen my duty to my fellow- 

 countrymen forbade me to allow a gaff so perfect in every 

 respect to leave my possession; that it was buried in my 

 trunk, and that there it should remain until I arrived in 

 New York. 



When I consider the matter in the abstract, I am forced 

 to admit it was rather a shabby return for his kindness. 

 But when I look upon it in the concrete — on the gaff it- 

 self as it now lies before me — my scruples vanish, and I 

 regard it with the utmost complacency. At all events, if 

 its acquisition was a wrong, that wrong is mine, and the 

 reader in partaking of its benefits need assume no moral 

 responsibility therefor. 



Should I say I had never seen a really good gaff in a 



