Nov. 27, 1909.] 
851 
said, “I-ot” (female), and the people all set up 
a great shout. The god of the chase certainly 
answered their prayer. A female fish, the first 
one, is the greatest good fortune that could be¬ 
fall them. That meant a fresh supply of roe; 
before night every one would have fish in 
plenty. In a few minutes all the boats were 
out. The river was covered with fishermen, 
and the hills echoed to -the shouts of excite¬ 
ment as the fish were taken. It was a fine run. 
the fish were plenty and in prime condition. 
More, they were voracious and took the hook 
readily. 
I begged a small supply of eggs from one of 
the Indians, and armed with my fly-rod and a 
small hook, seated myself on a boulder where 
the water swirled and eddied, and proceeded to 
ingle for salmon. I shall never know how 
nany times that afternoon I was the target for 
ffiafts of wit, and for my sense of pride it is 
terhaps just as well that I never found out. I am 
;ure that those Indians never before indulged 
n as much hilarity in one afternoon in their 
ives. It was many a long day before I learned 
hat I might have sat there on that rock until 
took root and grew before I would catch a 
almon, and not an Indian took the trouble to 
mlighten me. I sat there in blissful ignorance 
intil the shadows of night deepened, when I 
eeled in my diminutive tackle and started home. 
became aware of the presence of an Indian 
tanding at my back. He trailed a large salmon 
y the gills. This he threw at my feet and said, 
For your wife.” I did not know the meaning 
f his words until months afterward, and had I 
nown possibly my pride would have been a 
ttle hurt that he should so much doubt my 
bility to provide for my family that he should 
ome and present me with a fish and inform me 
lat it was for my wife. I learned another im- 
-ortant fact a short time after, and that was, 
iat had I accidentally hooked a salmon on that 
ackle I would have been just as badly off for 
sh as before and worse off for tackle. As soon 
: > the savage presented me with the fish he 
irned on his heel and walked away without a 
■ord. My little lady was in becoming ecstacies 
my success, and it became necessary for me 
thrust Satan behind me quite vigorously be- 
re I could summon up courage to dispel her 
usion. 
By the persistence with which I “bucked a 
sing game,” I won the respect of the Indians, 
ley admire a good loser. The next morning 
ren I was just a little too sleepy to realize 
-ything short of an earthquake, my wife 
.'oused me and told me there was some one 
1 the door. It was my friend of the day before, 
■uipped for the day’s fishing. It was gray 
«>wn, and he made me understand by means 
< signs and a little English that he desired me 
t be his guest for the day. It was the first 
<casion that one of them had expressed a de- 
5 e to have either of us join them in their 
ssrts. In a short time we were at the river. 
If companion had already baited the hook be- 
f e we left the shore. The bait is tied on the 
lok by means of a deer sinew. To those un- 
f niliar with this method of fishing it may be 
Pessary to explain that the eggs are taken 
the female salmon before the fish is ready 
t spawn. They lay in two long rolls on either 
5e of the intestinal tract and are held to- 
3 her by means of a fibrous network. When 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
the fish is ready to spawn this network breaks 
down and allows the eggs to escape into the 
oviducts. It will be seen, that while the eggs 
are thus matted together it is not difficult to 
retain them on the hook. 
By the direction of my friend I took the pole 
in my hand and stood in the bow of the canoe. 
It was my first attempt at balancing. Tight 
rope walking was no part of my college train¬ 
ing, so I entered this contest somewhat handi¬ 
capped, but despite my six-feet-four of altitude, 
I fancy that I acquitted myself respectably, if 
not gracefully. I know of nothing that can 
change its center of gravity more quickly and 
easily than a log canoe. I whirled the bait 
about my head and succeeded in wrapping the 
line several times about my neck and landing 
the mass of sticky eggs under my left ear. An¬ 
other attempt resulted better and the hook 
landed far out in the water. My Indian guide 
threw the canoe across the current and we 
drifted. I became lost in the contemplation of 
the scene. I forgot everything but the beauti¬ 
ful surroundings. The sun was just rising over 
the mountain range, a filmy vapor lay upon the 
water, shutting it from view, but as soon as the 
rays of the sun struck it, the mist rolled into 
a great mass and fled down the stream, disclos¬ 
ing the water like a silver mirror. It was a 
mirror for the great leafy aspens and for the 
gaunt basaltic cliffs that towered above, whose 
every lineament was depicted in reverse with 
startling fidelity. 
The fish were beginning to leap. Right by 
the boat a great lusty fellow heaved his olive 
sides above the water, to fall back with a splash. 
My nerves are fairly good, but it requires more 
than good nerves merely to forbear a start of 
surprise when a thirty-pound fish hops up 
within five feet of you and flirts spray over you; 
it is not so much the spray as it is the unex¬ 
pectedness of the thing. There lies the water 
calm as a bath tub, and all at once right under 
your nose up comes a big fish, curls himself 
into a graceful rainbow and goes down, flirting 
his broad tail in derision. 
I forgot that my line was in the water, I was 
lost in the contemplation of the scene—“the 
world forgetting by the world forgot.” My 
blissful reverie was rudely interrupted by some¬ 
thing that felt as if I had fouled my line on a 
sunken log. The Indian knew the symptoms 
better, and exclaimed, “Quick!” I gave the 
pole a yank hard enough, as I thought, to 
throw any fish in the water clear over the canoe. 
To my surprise that fish never budged. The 
next instant I was painfully aware that I was 
securely attached to my first salmon. The pre¬ 
liminary tug of that fish, even before he began 
to fight, seated me in the bottom of the canoe 
in about six inches of water. I attempted to re¬ 
gain my feet, but the attempt was vain. I soon 
learned that my securest position was sitting 
flat in the canoe with my knees braced against 
either side. In that position I had both hands 
free to manage the pole, and that seemed about 
all I was capable of doing. 
I am unable to analyze the various sensa¬ 
tions attendant upon the capture of that fish, 
but if my memory serves, the principal ones 
were like holding a live wire, and then trying 
to keep a lusty bull calf out of the milking pen. 
Had it not been for my boatman, I would have 
lost that salmon. His keen eye and his perfect 
knowledge of what the fish would do enabled 
him to keep the canoe in such position that the 
salmon was always on the down stream side. 
I cannot say how long the contest waged, but 
I have an indistinct impression that both shores 
of the river were lined with spectators who had 
come out to see what kind of stuff the new 
doctor was made of. I landed my fish after 
what seemed to me the most strenuous tussle 
in my piscatorial career, and in landing it, 1 
landed more than I -thought at the time—the good 
will of that people. From that time forward 
I was virtually one of them, entitled by their 
freemasonry to share in their sports and good 
fortune, as well as a participation in their 
sorrows and privations. 
The cruel, crafty savage does not exist upon 
the Sahaptin Reservation. Love of children is 
cne of their characteristic traits. The most dis¬ 
solute Indian in the tribe loves a child and 
would never dream of doing one an injury or 
in any way mistreating one. Among them 
children are never punished, nor did I ever see 
one that needed it. The little fellows are as 
mischievous as children always are, but im¬ 
plicit obedience to parental authority is inherent 
in them. Once when my wife thought our boy 
needed a little physical correcting and had pro¬ 
cured a willow stick for that purpose, an In¬ 
dian who happened to be near caught the stick, 
took it away and administered a sound scold¬ 
ing to her. He then took up the baby, wrapped 
a blanket about him and informed my wife that 
she was unfit to raise a child, and that he 
was going to take ours to his own tepee, where 
his wife would raise the baby in accordance with 
proper methods. This occurred after we had 
been with them for several years, and they were 
very familiar with us. 
The Bison Trail. 
The bison trail, I see it yet, 
Though dim ’neath grass grown high 
What thoughts of sadness crowd my mind 
When I its course descry. 
I see it on the hillside steep, 
I see it in the vale, 
I see it everywhere I go, 
Long, winding, grass-grown trail. 
I trace its course hard-by the sites 
Where modern cities rise, 
I see it on the distant plains. 
Where nature’s stillness lies. 
Athwart these wide extending plains, 
Go wander where I may, 
By hill or vale, by ridge or stream, 
There lies the grassy trail. 
Oh, would I could those days recall— 
Those blissful days gone by, 
When first thy zig-zag course appear’d 
Beneath this western sky. 
When unmolested bison herds 
Slow saunter’d to and fro, 
And lived in peace their long, sweet lives, 
Nor knew their red-skinn’d foe. 
New, they are gone; but thou art left— 
Long may thy presence stay, 
That generations yet unborn 
May see the grassy way, 
W. Mitchell. 
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