estruction of these little ones.

Seven thousand salmon have been taken at one haul of the seine in this
latitude. Most of these salmon weigh sixty pounds each, and some have
been caught that weigh a hundred and twenty pounds. Yet there are no
game fish in Alaska. Let sportsmen remember that far happier hunting
grounds lie within twenty miles of San Francisco, and in almost any
district of the Northern or Eastern States. On a certain occasion three
of our fellow-voyagers, armed in fashionable fishing toggery, went forth
from Sitka for a day's sport. A steam launch bore them to a land where
the rank grass and rushes grew shoulder high. Having made their way with
difficulty to the margin of a lake, they came upon a boat which
required incessant bailing to prevent its speedy foundering. One kept
the craft afloat while the others fished until evening. They caught
nothing, yet upon landing they found five fish floundering under the
seats; these swam in through a hole in the bottom of the boat. I say
again, on good authority, there are no game fish in Alaska. There are
salmon enough in these waters to supply the world--but the world can be
supplied without coming to these waters at all. The truth is, I fear,
that the market has been glutted and the business overdone.

One evening we anchored off a sad and silent shore. A few Indian lodges
were outlined against the woods beyond. A few Indians stolidly awaited
the arrival of a small boat containing one of our fellow-passengers.
Then for some hours this boat was busily plying to and fro, bringing out
to us all that was portable of a once flourishing, or at least
promising, fishery and cannery, now defunct. Meanwhile the mosquitoes
boarded our ship on a far more profitable speculation. It was pitiful to
see our friend gathering together the _debris_ of a wrecked fortune--for
he had been wealthy and was now on the down grade of life--hoping
almost against hope to be able to turn an honest penny somehow,
somewhere, before he dies.

At times we saw solitary canoes containing a whole family of Indians
fishing in the watery waste. What solemn lives they must lead! But a
more solemn and more solitary scene occurred a little later. All the
afternoon we had been sailing under splendid icy peaks. We came in out
of the hot sun, and were glad of the cool, snow-chilled air that visited
us lightly at intervals.

It was the hour of 9.30 p. m. The sun was dropping behind a lofty
mountain ra