and Indian canoes, and in them I explored many of the straits and sounds which separate the islands of the Alexander Archipelago.

Naturally fond of fishing and gunning, my Orvis rods, with full assortment of flies, all gear necessary for salt-water fishing, and my rifle and shot-gun, were my inseparable companions; and after days spent in explorations, sometimes of bays and sounds never before entered by white men, and in one case of a large bay forty miles deep by fifteen broad, existing where the latest charts showed solid land only, my evenings were spent poring over works on natural history, icthyology, and ornithology, and jotting down in my note-book descriptions of my finds. Such jolly times! One day a mineral lode, another great flocks of ptarmigan, another a bear, a mountain sheep, or some new fish—gave me something to dream of.

The Alexander Archipelago, of which Baranoff, Kruzoff, and Tchitagofi Islands are the principal, is separated from the coast by Chatham Strait, which, beginning at the southward as a continuation of Puget Sound reaches to above 60° north at Chilkhat; it is from three to ten miles wide, deep and steep, too, throughout, bordered on the coast side by high, heavily timbered, snow-clad mountains, and on the other by high wooded islands. On both sides, many of the ravines are occupied by immense glaciers, from which flow icy streams, the birthplace of salmon.

Running nearly east and west there are several straits and sounds connecting Chatham Strait with the Pacific Ocean, of which Peril Strait, Icy Strait, and Cross Sound, are the principal. These, too, are bordered, as is Chatham Straits, and are the homes of glaciers and glacial streams.

Many of these streams I have personally fished, and among those under my command were several with kindred tastes, and I became possessed of the results of their experience.

I have read all that I could find of works on Alaska, and since my return have naturally conversed much with every one whom I have met who had also an Alaskan episode in his life, and have collected testimony on the point at issue. One and all affirm that my experience has been theirs, and the most strenuous efforts with well selected flies have failed to record a single capture of trout or salmon. The first bit of evidence I collected is worth recording. When the news that the Yankees had purchased Alaska, and thus become owners of the land north as well as south of British Columbia, was communicated to the Scotch Admiral of the English squadron at Victoria, Vancouver's Island, he ejaculated, "Dom the country! let 'em have it; the blausted saumon won't rise to a floi." Such was our united experience and verdict.

Of course, as we caught no end of them (trout and salmon) there were baits which would seduce them, and these were, for the trout, salmon roe, and for the salmon, live herrings.

There was no poetry in our trout fishing, for compared with salmon roe in slippery, sticky, slimy chunks, fish worms are aesthetically dainty.

There are several little lakes and more streams in the vicinity of Sitka; some within reach for a day's fishing, and some within an hour's. The principal of these are Piseco Lake and stream, back of and running through the town; Indian River and pond, Saw-Mill creek and lakes, from one to five miles to the eastward; the Redoubt river, lake, and fall, seven miles to the southward; and a nameless lake and outlet on Kruzoff Island, the lake embedded in a deep valley, one side of which is formed by the foot-hills of Mount Edgecomb, a noble, eternally snow-clad extinct volcano. In all of these trout or salmon are abundant in the season; in some both, and in some are found species which do not exist in others.

At the "Redoubt" I believe that all varieties and species are found. The place is named from a huge dam winch the Russians built across the mouth of a deep and wide ravine, thus forming a large lake of the river which here empties into the sea. The dam is provided with a number of salmon gates and traps. From the first run to the last, every passing school leaves here its tribute, seduced by the proximity of the beautiful lake; which tribute, duly smoked or salted, is barrelled for the San Francisco market by a very "lone fisherman," a Russian who for many years, without other companionship than his klootchman (Indian wife) and dogs, has devoted his life to the business.

If in this paper I make an occasional blunder, by transposition, or misapplication of the terms "specie" and "variety," or fail on a scientific nomenclature, I beg that it will be remembered that my claim is not to be an authority on icthyology, when such names are necessary, but on Alaska fish, which get along very well with their English, Indian, or Russian names.

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 haye 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.

One of our sailors, musically inclined, paraphrased very neatly the old song, "The Campbells are Coming! huzza! huzza!" and achieved fame by portraying the