I was appointed to the charge of Stuart’s Lake during the summer, with four men to perform the ordinary duties of the establishment—­making hay, attending to gardens, &c.  A few cattle were introduced in 1830, and we now began to derive some benefit from the produce of the dairy.  Our gardens (a term applied in this country to any piece of ground under cultivation) in former times yielded potatoes; nothing would now grow save turnips.  A few carrots and cabbages were this year raised on a piece of new ground, which added to the luxuries of our table.  Heaven knows, they were much wanted, for the other fare was scarcely fit for dogs!  In the early part of the season it consisted entirely of salmon, which this year was of the worst quality, having been two years in the store.  A few sturgeon, however, of enormous[1] size, were caught, whose flesh was the most tender and delicious I had ever eaten, and would have been considered a delicacy by Apicius himself; it need not be wondered at then that the capture of one caused universal joy.

    [1] Belluga?

The salmon (the New Caledonian staff of life) ascend Frazer’s River and its tributaries, from the Pacific in immense shoals, proceeding towards the sources of the streams until stopped by shallow water.  Having deposited their spawn, their dead bodies are seen floating down the current in thousands; few of them ever return to the sea; and in consequence of the old fish perishing in this manner, they fail in this quarter every fourth year.  The natives display a good deal of ingenuity in catching them.  Where the current and depth of water permit, they bar it across by means of stakes driven into the bottom with much labour, and standing about six inches apart; these are strongly bound to a piece of timber, or “plate,” running along the top; stays, or supporters, are placed at intervals of ten or twelve feet, the upper end bearing against the plate so as to form an angle with the stream.  Gaps are left in the works of sufficient size to admit the varveaux, or baskets, in which the fish are taken.  After the whole is finished, square frames of wicker-work, called keys, are let down against the upper side, to prevent the fish from ascending, and at the same time to allow the water a free passage.  The keys must be kept entirely free from filth, such as branches, leaves, &c., otherwise the whole works would soon be swept away.  The baskets are of a cylindrical form, about two and a half feet in diameter at the mouth, and terminate in a point of four or, five inches.  When the fishing is over, all the materials are removed, and replaced the ensuing year with equal labour.

To preserve the fish for future consumption the following process is adopted.  The back being split up, and the back-bone extracted, it is hung by the tail for a few days; then it is taken down and distended on splinters of wood; these are attached to a sort of scaffold erected for the purpose, where the fish remains till sufficiently dry for preservation.  Even in dry seasons, during this process, the ground all round the scaffold is thickly covered with large maggots; but in wet seasons the sight becomes much more loathsome.