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Updated: June 21, 2025
They came out upon a place silent as the dead a big deserted village, emptied by the plague, or, maybe, only by the winter; caches emptied, too; not a salmon, not a pike, not a lusk, not even a whitefish left behind. It was a bitter blow. They didn't say anything; it was too bad to talk about. The Colonel made the fire, and fried a little bacon and made some mush: that was their dinner.
This glimpse of the west enamoured him. To his "beloved brothers" our hero always thus addressed them he described it as a "delightful country, far exceeding anything I have seen on this continent." The extent of the Great Lakes amazed him, as did their fish. Henry's stories of five hundred whitefish taken with a scoop net at the rapids of Sault Ste. Marie in two hours were no longer questioned.
FISH. Striped bass, fresh cod, halibut, haddock, salmon, fresh mackerel, blackfish, whitefish, bluefish, catfish, redfish or spotted bass, black bass, yellow perch, skate, red-snapper, salmon-trout, pickerel, shad, wall-eyed pike, cisco, crayfish, terrapin, green turtle, scallops, prawns, white bait, frogs' legs, hard crabs, oysters. MEATS. Beef, veal, mutton, pork, venison.
A tremor shot through the dog that was like an electric shock; a snarl gathered in his throat, broke down, and ended in a low whine. He lay as if dead under the weight of David's hand. Not until David had ceased talking to him, and had disappeared once more in the direction of the cabin, did Baree begin devouring the frozen whitefish.
Then I suppose we'll have to smoke them a little hang them up by the tail the way the Injuns do. That's the way we do whitefish in the north. If it weren't for the fish which we catch in these northern waters, we'd all starve to death in the winter, and so would our dogs, all through the fur country."
What do I know, I, old Imber of the Whitefish? Only do I know that they are past understanding, these white men, far-wanderers and fighters over the earth that they be. "As I say, the meat in the forest became less and less. It be true, the white man's gun is most excellent and kills a long way off; but of what worth the gun, when there is no meat to kill?
On August 18 the party set out from Fort William. At first the journey went tranquilly enough. On the eighth day, about one o'clock in the afternoon, the party drew up their canoes on Isle au Parisien, in Whitefish Bay, to take dinner. A heavy westerly breeze sprang up, but they were on the leeward side of the island and did not notice its full strength.
"How heavy!" exclaimed Marian. And a moment later, upon receiving the second object, "How cold!" "The first," said Lucile, "is a flat, native seal-oil lamp. We can burn our seal-oil in it. I have a handful of moss in my pocket to string along the side for wick. It'll make it more cheery and it'll seem warmer. The other," she went on, "is a frozen whitefish; found it on one of the caches.
And they were without honor and respect, jeering the old-time customs and laughing in the faces of chief and shamans. "As I say, we were become a weak breed, we Whitefish. We sold our warm skins and furs for tobacco and whiskey and thin cotton things that left us shivering in the cold.
After that, he threw them into a large, empty tub. Many times he repeated this performance. As he pulled each fish out of the net, his mouth watered with the thought of the good dinner coming, and he said: "Fine fish, these bass!" "Very tasty, these whitefish!" "Delicious flounders, these!" "What splendid crabs!" "And these dear little anchovies, with their heads still on!"
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