J U L Y 28, 1978 P A G E 7
The falls in the Deschutes River are a "usudl and accustomed station" reserved in the Indians'
treaties. Here the ancient pursuit of salmon lives on little changed . . .
. . . except for the often empty nets that tell of
dwindling runs.
The hypnotizing swing-dip*glide of the net is the sign language
spoken by fishermen at Sherar's Bridge.
A Photo Essay
by
Cynthia Stowell
At night the waters became black but not lonely as the salmon push their way
upstream and the eels cling to the dark rocks below.
The rhythm of dipping is broken now and then by a
sharp tug. Muscles harden with the struggle. The
fish arches beneath the club and a smile brightens
the fisherman's face . . .
. . . but even if he catches nothing he can sit on the family
scaffold and dream, perhaps of mighty Celilo where turbulent
waters now calmed once offered plentiful salmon to the People.