"Look! What a glorious sight!" exclaimed Jamie; "the water is alive with fish." And it was true, for, attracted by the huge blaze, they came tumbling over each other, leaping out of the water by dozens, until the whole surface glowed and shimmered, green and red and purple.
Then the Indians who had accompanied them in order to get a supply for the tribe, entered the water, and with long spears made of hard wood, something after the fashion of a trident, speared and hooked the salmon to their heart's content.
As the youths stood spellbound, gazing at this almost miraculous sight, the chief tapped them on the shoulder and said--
"Does the Manitou fill the rivers of the palefaces with fish and their forests with furs?"
"We have never seen such plenty, chief, in the land of the palefaces. Very often if a man takes a fish from a stream, or a deer from the forest, he is sent to prison and sometimes put to death."
"Humph!" said the chief in a tone of surprise. "Now I know why the paleface comes over the Salt Water to the hunting-grounds of his red brother."
The lads were so dumfounded by this unusual sight that their thoughts turned instinctively to that little burn that sang its way down through a wood-lined vale far away in another land, where to land a single fish was a heinous crime, and yet how they loved that little spot, now so far away; but the voice of the chief awoke them from their reverie, saying--
"Come, my brothers, and fill your canoe with the gifts of the Manitou."
They needed no second bidding, and the next minute they, too, were enjoying the magnificent sport. Very soon all the canoes were filled, and then after a hearty supper of fresh salmon, the fish were sorted, dressed and prepared for drying, after which they were carried home for the winter's supply.
CHAPTER XIII