Word: salmons
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...roar of ice-littered water had died away along most of Alaska's great rivers; the Tanana, the Yukon, the Porcupine, the Kuskokwim foamed ice-free through the hundreds of miles of evergreen wilderness. Even north of "the Circle" the ground had thawed. Hundreds of thousands of obliging salmon ran in Alaska's larch-green coastal waters. The Arctic ice pack would soon move sullenly offshore. The sun stayed in the skies at night, and green things burst into leaf and blossom with hothouse frenzy. Alaska's short, violent summer had begun...
...gambler's restlessness stirred among the fleet of salmon trollers and purse seiners in Ketchikan, Juneau and Sitka, and at moorings along a thousand miles of hemlock-studded coast. In May this fleet and Alaskan canneries had been strikebound. But the 1947 fishing season could still mean riches. Prices were up, and even last year's niggling pack (3,971,109 cases) had brought a record $59 million...
...once in the howl of Alaska's biggest, longest political storm. After World War I, the Territory had suffered a slow decline. Its population had dwindled, and did not begin to rise again until the 1930s. Its lopsided economy was tied almost completely to fish and gold-a salmon industry owned in Seattle and a gold industry owned in the East. Alaska had been administered chiefly from dusty Washington pigeonholes by bureaucrats who had never seen a skate of halibut gear or a dredge's tailing pile...
...Life. Peggy's year-round citizens make their living from the sea, fishing for lobsters, herring, mackerel, salmon. Each fisherman owns his own home, his boat and fishing gear and most of them have a cow and an ox in the barn, a pig in the shed, a small garden behind the house. Among the rocks back of the Cove are a few grassy plots where cattle and oxen feed and small hay crops are raised. Hay is cut with a scythe, raked by women & children, hauled to the barn by oxen which move at about the same gait...
...brilliantly lighted up-fashionable house parties where the company is picked to create tensions, the conversation is acrid and infidelities are always in the making; arty gatherings and cafe parties which recall the days when Aragon was the darling of the Dadaists, days of his early prose poem: "The salmon sheen of silk stockings at the hour when cities are aflame. . . ." But readers who remember Aragon's ruthless, panoramic novels of prewar France (Residential Quarter, The Century Was Voting) will find none of the old satirical bite in Aurélien...