aced perhaps a foot apart to form
a rough semi-circle about a mile and a third long. The stakes curve back
to the shore leaving however a passage of perhaps 1000 feet open between
the farther end and the shore. This outer end of the weir is completed
by a smaller circle of stakes, so arranged as to make entrance easy by
following within the line of stakes, but exit difficult. The distance
between high and low water mark at Riviere Ouelle is about a mile and a
half and along this great stretch of beach the small fish come in great
numbers to spawn. There is a considerable point at the mouth of the
little Riviere Ouelle. The wide beach, bare at low water, and this point
furnish an admirable combination for the beluga fishery. At high tide
the beluga comes rushing in near to shore after his prey, sometimes in
water so shallow that his whole body comes into view. In his progress
along the shore he is checked by the stakes reaching out from the point,
so close together that he cannot get through. The stakes sway with the
current and sometimes strike together making considerable noise. Early
whalers thought the beluga would try to pass by squeezing between the
stakes and to prevent this they fastened the stakes together with ropes.
But this was not necessary. Frightened by the noise the timid beluga's
instinct leads him to make for the open water. He dashes across the
semi-circle of the fishery only to be checked by the line of stakes on
its outer edge. The line like a wall he follows, looking for an opening,
and may be led insensibly into the labyrinthine circle at its end from
which he will hardly escape. If he heads back towards shore where he
came in, he is frightened by the shallow water which he disregarded only
when in pursuit of his prey. Where was shallow water indeed he may now
find dry land for the tide is running out. So the creature becomes
bewildered. He swims about slowly, as it were feeling his way, or
disappears at the bottom, to be stranded when the tide goes out and thus
becomes the prey of his enemy, man.

Some old belugas are very cunning; they are called by the French
Canadian the _savants_, the knowing ones, and seem to understand the
wiles of the fisherman. They warn off the others and so foil the design
against them. But greediness proves often their destruction. From
over-feeding year after year they become fat and stupid and they too are
likely in time to be taken. The less knowing beluga has usually