plan was repeated,
the milt falling upon the eggs. Both male and female salmon then were
returned to the pool. The eggs and milt were shaken violently from side
to side until thoroughly mixed, a little water being added to help the
mixture. Then he took the pail to the faucet.

"But you're washing the milt off again!" cried Colin, as the foreman
filled the pail with water.

"It's had plenty of time to work," was the answer, and the eggs were
poured into a flat pan and washed several times.

"Now we'll put just a little water in the pan," the foreman continued,
"and leave it here to swell."

"Why should it swell?" asked Colin.

"The egg isn't really full when it comes from the mother fish," the
foreman answered, "the yolk rattles around inside the shell, but after
it has been mixed with the milt, it begins to suck up water, and in
about half an hour it's full."

"What happens next?" queried Colin.

"That's about all. We put the eggs in frames so that the water has a
chance to circulate freely, and then we go over the frames once or twice
a week to pick out any eggs that may happen to die or not to grow just
right."

"How long does it take before a fish comes out?" Colin asked
interestedly. "About a couple of weeks?"

"Weeks!" was the surprised answer; "we look for hatching to begin in
about five months, and during all that time every tray of eggs is picked
over once or twice a week. That keeps dead eggs from infecting live
ones."

"You must keep them a long time, then?"

"Nearly a year altogether. Those in that trough right behind you are
just hatching, they're from the first batch of spawn in the early spring
run. Most of them are hatched out now, for you see only a few eggs in
the tray."

Colin looked in and saw, as the foreman said, only half a dozen eggs
left in the tray, while in the shallow water of the trough below were
hundreds of tiny fish, like transparent tadpoles still fastened to the
yolk of the egg. Some, which were just hatched, were less than
three-quarters of an inch long, and scarcely able to move about in the
water because of the great weight of the yolk about the center of their
bodies. A few had consumed a large part of the sac.

"It'll take them about six weeks to get rid of the yolk," the foreman
said, anticipating the boy's question, "and if they were in a natural
stream they would be able to look after themselves. We feed them tiny
grubs and worms and small pieces of liver. Fro