Oct. 8, 1910.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
571 
battle between two of them is an event worth 
describing. One day I chanced to be sitting 
upon a large boulder near the stream watching 
the antics of a pair of ousels when my atten¬ 
tion was attracted to a pair of large "bull" sal¬ 
mon maneuvering about in the water below me. 
They swam about each other in circles, ail the 
time drawing nearer together. They acted for 
all the world like a pair of boars preparing for 
battle. After a time the larger of the two 
imagined he saw an opening in his opponent’s 
defense and rushed at him. The smaller fish 
swerved to one side, but not quick enough to 
escape a vicious cut from the lance-like teeth 
of his antagonist. The circling process was re¬ 
peated. Again they came together with force. 
I imagined I could hear the clash of their jaws 
as they gnashed at each other. The water was 
in a turmoil, and soon became reddened with 
blood from the wounds. A curious fact was 
that the other salmon seeded to understand that 
a battle was in progress, for in less than five 
minutes several of them appeared in the pool, 
where they lay watching the proceedings. After 
a time the smaller fish gave up the battle and 
swam out into the shallow water where he lay 
gasping, his skin cut to shreds. I put him out 
of his misery with a rifle bullet. 
Along the shores and in the shallows lay 
many dead and dying fish hurt in battles, ex¬ 
hausted by the hard labor of leaping over falls 
and by being battered against the rocks by the 
swift water on the up-river trip. It is believed 
that when the time arrives for it to spawn, each 
fish returns to the river where it was spawned, 
and that none of the fish return to salt water. 
The Indian method of taking salmon in these 
waters is, as already said, with spear or gaff, and 
the time is night. Near some deep pool large 
bonfires are lighted on the shores, and the light 
attracts the fish. The Indian, stripped to the 
waist, wades in and gaffs the fish by the sense 
of feeling alone. During the run proper thou¬ 
sands are taken every day. We were well sup¬ 
plied with salmon during our stay, but we pre¬ 
ferred to catch the smaller trout and charr, using 
salmon roe for a bait. 
Your well conditioned bruin is very fond of 
fish, but his appetite is never wholly appeased, 
because a healthy fish is quicker than chain 
lightning, and no animal so clumsy as a black 
bear can catch one unless he manages to take 
the fish unawares. Taking a salmon off his 
guard is no child’s task, as bruin very well 
knows. The unhealthy and injured fish, though, 
seek the shallow waters, where they lie in the 
sunshine, and here the bear secures most of his 
food. He creeps along the bank until he finds 
a sick fish near the shore and stealthily slips up 
and sweeps it on to the bank. During the salmon 
season the border of the river is marked plenti¬ 
fully with bear tracks. 
One day I left Charley in camp and set out 
to explore the river. Within a mile of camp I 
found where a bear had emerged from the water 
and gone up stream. The tracks were yet wet 
and drops of water lay where they had fallen 
from his shaggy sides. As the day was warm 
and would have soon dried the water, I knew 
that the bear was not far away. I cocked my 
rifle and crept up the sandy shore. Presently I 
heard a sound as of someone singing in a low 
monotone. The Indians are great singers when 
alone, and I supposed that one of them was com¬ 
ing down stream. Of course he had frightened 
the bear away. I dropped my rifle in the hollow 
of my arm and walked on more rapidly. 
As I rounded a bend in the river I looked up 
to see who was coming. There was no one in 
sight, but a large black bear was perched on a 
rock in the stream ten feet from shore, indus¬ 
triously trying to claw a dead fish within reach 
of his paw. For some reason he did not care to 
get wet, but chose to. bring the fish within reach 
by this method. Bears may not reason, but this 
one did something that looked suspiciously like 
it. He seemed to know that by creating the 
right kind of cu'rrent he could cause the fish to 
float toward him. He was reaching out and 
sweeping the water with his front paw, all the 
time complaining to himself, evidently at his ill 
success. The old chap did not see me and I 
stood for some minutes watching him at work. 
The dead fish gradually floated in until he could 
reach it. With a sweep of his paw he brought 
it near to the rock, grasped it in his mouth and 
sat up. At that moment I whistled softly. The 
bear threw up his head and looked toward me. 
With a great deal more agility than such a lum¬ 
bering creature seemed capable of. he sprang 
into the water and made for shore I waited 
until he had almost reached it and then fired. 
The bullet cut his spinal cord and he fell on the 
sand. The Indians brought the carcass down on 
a hand raft and that night there was feasting in 
camp. They first begged the pardon of the 
spirit of the bear for eating him. The Nez 
Perces will eat bear meat, but they first invoke 
the spirit. In the same way before they kill 
one they ask pardon. Otherwise wi l follow bad 
luck. 
The King of Birds. 
Raleigh, N. C., Oct. 1.— Editor Forest and 
Stream: Last June we killed a large alligator 
and skinned him on the dry sand near the mouth 
of his burrow, leaving the carcass where the 
operation took place. 
Two days later we passed the place while on 
a trip to the lake beyond, and several buzzards 
and one eagle rose from the carcass as we ap¬ 
proached, flapping off with their usual deliberate 
flight. Close by was a scattering growth of 
stunted maples, and in one of these a pair of 
kingbirds had their nest. As the big birds got 
well under way one of the kingbirds started in 
pursuit. He did not appear to be making much 
speed, but the big fellows were simply in the 
"also ran" class. This mite of a bird, with a 
spirit above fear, at once singled out the eagle 
and went for him like a hawk after a sparrow. 
And the way in which he abused that poor, suf¬ 
fering eagle was scandalous. He darted at him 
from above, pecking at him savagely, as it 
seemed, and finally, on two or three of his at¬ 
tacks, actually alighted on the eagle’s broad back 
the better to deliver the punishment best suited 
to the offense of trespassing so near the king¬ 
bird's nest. The attacks continued until the 
aggressor was not much more than a speck in 
the distance, when he left his helpless victim 
and returned quietly to the neighborhood of his 
nest 
During the whole progress of these maneu¬ 
vers, which of course occupied less time than it 
takes to tell of them, the eagle showed every 
sign of fear and discomfort and made repeated 
darts sideways and downward in its efforts to 
escape the quick onslaughts against which it had 
no power of retaliation. The big bird could 
easily have swallowed his little tormentor at a 
single gulp, without stretching his throat, could 
he have caught him. But that feat he did not 
even attempt. 
1 had often before seen kingbirds attack and 
drive off large birds, but this was the first time 
I ever saw a tilt between a kingbird and the 
king of birds. 
This occurrence brings to mind a time when 
I had a young bald eagle alive in a large wire 
netting cage. The eagle was grown and able to 
fly, and one day I turned loose on him a live 
red-headed woodpecker as a tit-bit and change 
from his steady diet of fish. But the wood¬ 
pecker assumed the aggressive and nearly scared 
that eagle to death with his fearless attacks. I 
need hardly say that his courage saved his life. 
I got the woodpecker out of the cage as soon 
as I could and turned him loose, and I hope he 
is living yet. H. H. Brimley. 
When the Sandhill Crane Dances. 
All residents of the Western prairies are 
familiar with the sandhill crane—which in old 
times was extremely abundant and noticeable 
during the migration, and which used to be shot 
in some numbers. 
Formerly these birds bred in considerable num¬ 
bers in the Western country north of the Platte 
River, but we imagine the occupancy of the 
country in recent years has obliged them to 
move further north, for their breeding opera¬ 
tions. 
Few sights and sounds were more impressive 
than these great flocks of migrating crane slowly 
