The Tacoma times. [volume] (Tacoma, Wash.) 1903-1949, 1909-08-16

their sweet pralseS-dog-go
your souls, get up!"
1t is the cook, in picturesque
that might have been
heard on the Washington shore,
five miles away, who shouts the
sleep out of us.
And a minute later we are out
of hunks and scrambling into oil
skins and sou-westers. The fire
man of the launch is hauling the
coal from his banked fire, the
captain is oiling his engine and
testing it's every screw. Three of
the men are Harvesting the horses.
Yes, horses and a launch to go
salmon fishing on the tower Co
lumbia fishing grounds!
There are many ways of taking
the salmon. You can sail out to
sea or down the river in 14-foot
catboats, with a half mile of net,
IS feet deep and hanging from
the water by button-like corks,
and as the tide comes in and goes
out let the fish get entangled by
their gills.
There is danger in this-a-plen-
ty. Many boats get lost every
year in the night and fog and
storms. But it is picturesque
perhaps the most picturesque
reaping of any natural harvest in
the country.
A hurried breakfast, and we're
off. It's only 4 o'clock, and the
birds of which the cook spoke
sing only in his imagination. It's
just turning daybreak. The wind
is chilly and damp yet. :.
Just 4 o'clock, for the fishing
ground people must follow the
tides, must catch their fish when
the tides are turning. Tomor-
row we would get up at 5. Yes
terday it was 8.
The launch or the horses
was given my choice. So l took
the horses.
Out into the river then the
launch chugged, spinning behind
it a wonderful web-a line of
bobbing corks six feet apart, glis-
tening, water splashed. Out and
out went the launch, drifting a
bit with the outgo of the tide till
it formed a great arc, half, per-
haps three-quarters of a mile
around.
Then 1t turned sharply into
shore. We with the horses were
half a mile from the starting
point by now. The boat was
heading for us. One end of the
great net was attached to
scow which was
drifting close to shore. The
launch was weaving a circle.
Let any salmon caught within
that great circle of bobbing corks
beware. The lines of retreat were
being cut off rapidly as 12-
horsepower engine could do it.
The men with the horses be-
came busy now. ! watched close
ly. The horses were in teams of
two. There were five teams. Each
team had a driver. The harness
carried stout thongs from the col
lar, ending in a hook.
The launch was 100 feet from
shore now. "Let 'er go!" cried
the captain.
Then the horses sprang into the
water. one team after another.
The men were after them, urging
them on. The water swirled and
twisted and surged around them,
the spray dashed into their faces.
Steadily, aggressiyely they fought
their way through. The lead
team reached the boat. 1t was
neck deep.
A deft catching up of the hook
which had hung loose over the
collar, and the driver had at
tached it to the net, just back of
a cork.
"Git-up," he cried, the echoes
from the hills.
The horses-they seem almost
human, so well do they catch the
of the moment
plunged into their collars, strug-
Cling back to shore.
The second team was neck deep
in the water now, ready to make
fast to the net. They start shore
ward. The third team takes hold,
and the fourth. BY now the first
team is on shore. is unlocked and
Is starting for a new trip.
And SO they work--a fast and
furious 20 minutes. One team
after another plunging in, catch
ing the line, hurrying shoreward.
Now the net Is only 80 feet in
diameter. The launch is Just off
shore. The deep bosomed scow is
lowering near by. greedily. Its
crew with gaff hooks stand on the
Horses and men are
around. All are in at the death.
Now look at the net. 1t is alive
with fish! We had forgotten
about the fish. But there they
are. leaping and writhing and
twisting. straining against the
sides, blindly looking for a way
Of escape. But there is none.
The last horses give their final
tug. The net is almost drained