SALMON-FISHING IN THE FAR NORTH
Tide that rises twenty-five feet—Wholesale suicide of salmon—Fish-eyes as a delicacy for sea-gulls—How the natives store fish for the sledge-dogs—The three varieties of salmon—An Arcadian land for the birds.
Leaving the mouth of the Tigil River, we steamed northward into the upper arm of the Okhotsk Sea. The shore line showed rolling hill and mountain country without much timber. Three days of steady steaming brought us to the extreme limits of the Okhotsk Sea, at the mouth of the Ghijiga River. Owing to the shallowness of the water, we were obliged to anchor eighteen miles off shore. We had on board a small steam-launch, for use in towing the lighters to the shore, each lighter carrying about twenty-five tons. The launch and lighters were soon put over the side and their cargoes loaded into them. At ten o'clock at night we set off toward the shore. It was necessary to start at that hour in order to get over the bar at flood-tide. We entered the mouth of the river at three in the morning. The sun was already up. The width of the estuary was considerable, but it was enormously increased by the tide, which rises twenty-five feet and floods the fields and plains on either side. The air was literally full of sea-gulls, flying very high. Some of them were going inland, and some out to sea. The odor of decaying fish was almost overpowering, and was plainly perceptible five miles out. This was caused by the enormous number of dead salmon that lay on the bar, having been swept down the river.
About the tenth of June the salmon come in from the sea and work their way up the river until the lack of water bars their further progress. Salmon do not run up these rivers until they have attained their sixth year of growth. From the moment they enter the fresh water of the river, they get no food whatever. For this reason they must be caught near the river's mouth to be in good condition. The female, having gone far up the river, finds a suitable place, and deposits her eggs; after which the male fish hunts them out and fertilizes them. As soon as this has been accomplished there begins a mad rush for death. However many millions of salmon may run up the river, not one ever reaches the sea again alive. They race straight up the river, as if bent on finding its source. When the river narrows down to two hundred feet in width, and is about a foot deep, the fish are so crowded together that the water fairly boils with them. And still they struggle up and ever up. One can walk into the water and kill any number of them with a club. After the fish have gone up the river in this fashion for fifty or sixty miles, they are so poor that they are worthless as food, for they have been working all this time on an empty stomach. As they fight their way up, they seem to grow wilder and wilder. Whole schools of them, each numbering anywhere from a hundred to a thousand, will make a mad rush for the shore and strand themselves. This is what the gulls have been waiting for. They swoop down in immense flocks and feast upon the eyes of the floundering fish. They will not deign to touch any other part. Bears also come down the river bank and gorge themselves. I have seen as many as seven in a single day, huge black and brown fellows, feasting on the fish. They eat only certain parts of the head, and will not touch the body. They wade into the water and strike the fish with their paws and then draw them out upon the bank. Wolves, foxes, and sledge-dogs also feast upon the fish, and for the only time during the year get all they want.
A River of Dead Salmon—August.
As the fish get further and further away from the sea, their flesh grows loose and flabby, the skin sometimes turning black and sometimes a bright red. They dash themselves against stones, and rub against the sharp rocks, seemingly with the desire to rub the flesh off their bones. The eggs of the salmon remain in the river during the winter, and it is not until the following spring that the young fish are swept down to the sea by the spring floods.
Along the banks of the river live the half-breed Russians and the natives in their miserable shanties and skin huts. They fish with long nets made of American twine. Fastening one end of the net to a stake on one side of the river, they carry the other end to the opposite side. In an hour or more, the farther end is brought back with a wide sweep down stream, which, of course, is the direction from which the fish are coming. The two ends are brought together, and a team of a dozen sledge-dogs hauls the net to the bank. The children kill the fish with clubs. Then they are carried to the women, who squat upon the sand, and, with three deft sweeps of a sharp knife, disembowel them, and cut off the thick pieces of flesh on each side of the backbone. These pieces are dried in the sun and form the chief article of food among this people. It is called by them yukulle. The backbone, the head, and the tail, which remain after the meat is cut off, are then dried, and they form the staple food for the sledge-dogs.
After they have cut up enough fish for one year's consumption, they make yet another large catch and throw the whole lot into a pit and cover them with earth. If there should be no run of fish the following year, these pits could be opened up and the contents fed to the dogs, thus saving their valuable lives. The natives, who live mainly on fish, will not cure more than enough for a single season's use.
Salmon Catch.
They may lay up future store for their dogs, but not for their children. When an old fish-pit is opened up the stench is terrible, but this does not trouble the dogs, for they will eat anything into which they can bite. If the natives were willing to work fifteen days longer, they could easily lay up enough food to tide over any ordinary famine, but they will not do this unless forced to it. Consequently, the Russian Government compels one or two from each family to work on certain government nets, every fish caught being put in the "fish-bank" and a record kept of the exact number due each individual who helps work the nets. During several successive good years, enough fish are laid up to supply the people at least in part during times of scarcity. If these should not suffice, the government would buy up reindeer from natives in the interior at fifty kopeks a head, and feed them to the destitute people. Fifty kopeks make twenty-five cents in United States currency, which seems a small price to pay for a reindeer, but in the country of which we are writing that is a good average price. A failure of the fish crop occurs about once in seven years. For some reason not yet ascertained, the fish will entirely desert a river for a season. Not infrequently it is found that of two rivers whose mouths are not more than a few miles apart, the salmon will frequent one and not the other.
The Russian Government forbids the export of salmon caught in the rivers or within two miles of their mouths. While the people do not destroy a thousandth part of one per cent. of the fish that run up the river, we must bear in mind that not a single fish gets back to the sea after depositing its eggs. As the fish are killed as near as possible to the river's mouth, an enormous number of eggs are destroyed. There is, therefore, a possibility of seriously diminishing the supply if a wholesale slaughter takes place when the fish come in from the sea. If they were taken after the eggs are deposited it would be another matter; but this is never the case.
These salmon are of three different varieties, called, respectively, the silver salmon, the "hump-backed" salmon, and the "garboosh." The weight of a full-grown salmon is from eighteen to twenty-five pounds. There is in the rivers another fish called the salmon-trout. It has a dark-green back, with vivid pink spots, and it is a most delicious article of food. The little lakes in the tundra also contain a fish somewhat resembling the pickerel, which the natives catch in traps. These are set in the little creeks leading from the tundra lakes. They are cylindrical baskets, five feet long and three feet wide, and are set in an opening in a dam built, for the purpose, of reeds and stakes. Often as many as a dozen fish are taken from the traps at a single catch. At the time when the salmon are running, hundreds of sea-dogs (hair-seal) are attracted to the mouth of the river by the smell of dead fish. As we went in from our steamer, they kept lifting their heads from the water all about us, and afforded some good shooting. The natives take them in huge nets made of walrus thongs with a mesh of six inches or more. A good haul may net as many as thirty of these big fellows, which weigh up to four hundred pounds apiece. Their fur is of a mottled or speckled color. They are in high repute among the natives, who use their hides for boots. The women are able to sew them so as to be perfectly water-tight. The blubber is a delicacy which is eaten cold. It is also made into oil, and in a shallow dish, with a piece of moss for a wick, it forms the ordinary lamp of the native. The sea-gulls, on their way north to breed, arrive in May, and the air is simply filled with them. They make their nests on rocky declivities or beside the rivers, or even on the open tundra. The nesting and hatching of their young comes at such a time that it just matches the running of the salmon, which is very convenient. The young mature very quickly. When newly hatched they are gray. When they come back the following season only their wings are gray, the body being white. The egg harvest is a very important one to the natives, who preserve the eggs by burying them in the ground on the north side of a hill where there is perpetual frost. Besides the gulls, there are countless ducks, geese, and snipe. These last often fly in such dense flocks that the boys stand and throw clubs among them, and bring down half a dozen at a throw. These youngsters are also very skilful with the sling, and bag many ducks and geese with this primitive weapon. I have seen a boy bring down a single goose with one of these slings, though the general rule is to throw into a flock on the chance of hitting one. Birds of all kinds here find the richest feeding-grounds in the world. The sea birds, in countless numbers, feed upon the salmon, while the insectivorous birds have only to open their mouths to have them filled. At this season the ground is quite covered with berries, which have been preserved all winter under the snow. Among these are cranberries, blueberries, and huckleberries. When the birds arrive in the spring they are generally poor, but ten days suffice, on this rich fare, to make them fat. An hour's stroll is enough to use up all the gun-shells one can conveniently carry, and to bag more game than one can bring home. The hunter has only to sit down in a "goose lane" or behind a blind of some sort, and shoot birds right and left. The few merchants who reside in these trading posts kill large quantities of birds in the season, and keep them in cold storage, which can be found almost anywhere a few feet below the surface of the ground. The natives, as a rule, are too poor to own shot-guns, and so do not profit largely by this generous supply of feathered game.