r fourteen miles up the river is the Frog Creek
fishery, at which we arrived late in the afternoon, and found that the
man superintending it had taken a good many fish, and expected more. He
visited his nets while we were there, but returned with only a few
salmon. Some of them were badly cut up by the seals, which are the most
formidable enemies of fishermen, as they eat and destroy many salmon,
besides breaking the nets. We were detained here by rain all night, and
slept in the small fishing-house.

Travelling makes people acquainted with strange beds as well as strange
bed-fellows; but I question if many people can boast of having slept on
a bed of _nets_. This we were obliged to do here, having brought no
blankets with us, as we expected to have returned to the Point fishery
in the evening. The bedstead was a long low platform, in one end of the
little cabin, and was big enough to let four people sleep in it--two of
us lying abreast at one end, and two more at the other end, feet to
feet. A large salmon-net formed a pretty good mattress; another, spread
out on top of us, served as a blanket; and a couple of trout-nets were
excellent as pillows. From this _piscatorial_ couch we arose early on
the following morning, and breakfasted on a splendid fresh salmon; after
which we resumed our journey. In a couple of hours we arrived at the
Rapid fishery, where I found that my old friend Mike, the Irishman, had
caught a great number of salmon. He was very bitter, however, in his
remarks upon the seals, which it seems had made great havoc among his
nets during the last two days. A black bear, too, was in the habit of
visiting his station every morning, and, sitting on a rock not far off,
watched his motions with great apparent interest while he took the fish
out of the nets. Mike, poor man, regretted very much that he had no
gun, as he might perhaps shoot "the baste." Bears are very destructive
at times to the salted salmon, paying visits during the night to the
vats, and carrying off and tearing to pieces far more than they are
capable of devouring.

While inspecting the nets here, we witnessed an interesting seal-hunt.
Two Indians, in separate canoes, were floating quietly in a small eddy,
with their guns cocked, ready to fire at the first unfortunate seal that
should show his head on the surface of the stream. They had not waited
long when one popped up his head, and instantly got a shot, which
evidently hurt