I find in my note-book memoranda of the capture of bathymaster-signatus, chirus deccagramus, and even a cotlus-polycicantliocejrfialous, but had not Professor Bean instructed me, I should have continued (and I believe I did) to call the first two after the fish they most resembled, viz., rock cod and sea bass; and of the last named I have lost and forgotten the description. But we can spare him; the salmon and trout will, I feel sure, furnish all the material needed, and I will confine myself to them.

THE SALMON.

Five species of salmon have been identified as found in Alaska; these are:

The Oncorhynchus Chouicha,

The Oncorhynchus Keta,

The Oncorhynchus Nerka,

The Oncorhynchus Kisutch,

The Oncorhynchus Garbosha.

I am indebted to Professor Bean for the above list. In it I recognize some familiar Russian names, and I will supplement the nomenclature. The “Keta” is the big hump-backed salmon of the Yukon, sometimes attaining a weight of sixty pounds; the Nerha is also called by the Russians Crassnarebia, or red-fleshed; and the distinction is well made, for compared with it, the flesh of the other species seems to fade into pink; the “Kisutch” or “black throat” is so called on account of the intense blackness of the roof of the mouth and throat; the flesh is lighter red than the Nerkas, but more so than any other species, and as a table fish it excels all others, bringing twice the price at retail; the Garbosha is the small hump-back, and strikingly resembles the “red fish” of Idaho. This is the only salmon that I am sure ascends any of the streams near Sitka, except at the Redoubt, where the Kisutch and Crassna-rebia are taken in late August and early September. The common name for the garbosha is the “dog salmon,” and a more hideous object than one of them as found swimming listlessly or dying in one of the pools, it is hard to conceive of. I find this note of description: “Aug. 26th.—In a shallow pool I saw a fish some two feet long, feebly struggling as though he were trying to push himself ashore. I picked him up and laid him on the grass. A sicker fish never continued to wag his tail; his skin was yellow, picked out with green and blue spots, from an inch to three in diameter; and one on his side was about an inch wide and six inches long, bleeding and raw as though gnawed by mice. One eye was gone, one gill cover eaten through, and every fin and the tail were but ragged bristles, all web between the rays having disappeared.”

The first run of the salmon is well worth description. About the middle of May, varying from year to year by a few days only, the inhabitants of dull, sleepy old Sitka experience a sensation, and are aroused from the lethargy in which they have existed through the long winter. The word spreads like wildfire, the salmon are coming! Everybody rushes to the heights which furnish prospect, and strain their eyes for confirmation.