In the summer of that year, we lived in a village near a stream in Idaho where salmon came to spawn. The Valley of the Fish was broad and flat, and high snow-covered mountains rose to the south. The stream wound like a snake through the valley marshes, and the water sparkled in the sun. There were boulders and pebbles in it, and in places, the water moved swiftly, and for these reasons, the fish liked it, and their families had lived there for a long time. There were many salmon in the ...