Jack fired at the white spot on the beast's breast _Facing page_ 58
Seammux also rolled after the goat, and he, too, disappeared " " 82
Here they wear white men's clothes, including shoes and hats " " 92
"Close to some of the houses stand tall carved poles, called totem poles" " " 98
When they saw the canoe they all stopped and began to stare at it " " 190
Drove her short horns deep into his side " " 204
"Say, Hugh, what is that Indian doing in that canoe? I thought at first that he was paddling, but he doesn't seem to move, and that doesn't look like a paddle that he has in his hand."
"To tell you the truth, son, I don't know what he is doing. This business here on the salt water puzzles me, and everything is strange and queer. This ain't like the prairie, nor these ain't like any mountains that I've ever seen. I am beginning at the bottom and have got to learn everything. But about that Indian in the canoe, you can see that the boat doesn't move; and you can see, too, if you look sharp, that he's anchored. Don't you see that taut line reaching down into the water?"
"That's so," said Jack; "he surely is anchored, but he works his arms just as if he were paddling. I am going to ask this man over here."
Jack walked over to a sailor who stood leaning against the rail of the deck on which they were sitting, and who was looking over the water, and said to him: "Will you tell me, sir, what that Indian is doing in the canoe over there?"
The man turned his head and looked in the direction in which Jack was pointing, and said: "Yes, I can tell you what he is doing; he is fishing. Don't you see that every stroke he makes he is bringing up some herrings?"
"No, I don't see it, and I will be much obliged to you if you will describe to me how he is fishing."
"Of course I will," said the man. "You see his canoe is anchored there in that deep water, just this side of that point around which the tide runs strong. At this season of the year the herrings gather in big schools in that eddy there. Of course we don't know just how they lie, but they must be mighty thick together. That thing the Indian has in his hand is a pole about a dozen feet long, flattened on the sides, and maybe a couple of inches across in its widest part. The flattening makes the pole sort of oval shaped, if you should saw through it; and each of the narrow edges of the pole is studded with a row of sharp nails, about an inch or two apart. These nails are firmly driven into the wood and the points that stick out for about an inch are very sharp. The nails run for about one half the length of the pole. The Indian, sitting in his canoe and holding the upper part of the pole in his two hands, as you see, just as he would hold a paddle, sweeps the end of it, that has the nails in, through the water, using just the same motion that he does in paddling. The herrings down there are so thick that every time he passes the pole vertically through the water it strikes the bodies of three or four of the fish with force enough to drive the nails into them; and as the man continues the stroke they are pushed ahead of the pole. When the stroke is finished and the end of the pole brought out of the water, the fish are still sticking on the nails. Then, you will see, if you watch him, he brings the nailed end of the pole in over the canoe, taps the pole on the canoe, and the fish drop off into the bottom of the boat. Don't you see the white shiny specks on the pole every time he makes a stroke?"