A Story From The Shikellemus Indians
Once upon a time the Brook Trout did not have the colorful markings on their sides. When the great Manitou went to visit the land of the Iroquois, He grew hungry while on his long journey. One evening He stopped beside a pool surrounded by huge white pines and hemlocks that reached up to the sky. When he saw that it was full of beautiful trout, all as black and shiny as the night sky, he reached in and caught the largest fish. But when He looked closely at it He saw how beautiful and strong it was, and how graceful its brothers swam through the pool. He decided that it was better to let the fish live even though it meant He had to go hungry. (Have you ever given up something you wanted to help another?)
The trout swam away, but his sides became silvery where the Great Spirit had held it and it was covered with many colored spots and halos as a mark of having been handled by the Manitou. The marks on the young parr even show where the fingers of the Manitou held it.
Because of this the Brook Trout was sacred to the Indians of the Six Nations and they would not catch or eat the Brook Trout.