{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_59592/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_59592","id":"gutenberg_59592","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/59592","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Archaeology & Anthropology","Category: History - Other","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Indians of North America -- Northwest Coast of North America","Indians of North America -- Northwest, Pacific","Salishan Indians"],"text":"Produced by Bryan Ness and the Online Distributed\nProofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: \u00b7 THE \u00b7 DISCOVERY \u00b7 FIRST \u00b7 VISIT \u00b7 ON \u00b7 PUGET \u00b7 SOUND \u00b7\n1792 \u00b7 OFF \u00b7 BLAKELY \u00b7 ROCKS \u00b7\u00b7 BY \u00b7 RAPHAEL \u00b7 COOMBS \u00b7\u00b7\u00b7 1895 \u00b7\n\nVANCOUVER\u2019S SHIP DISCOVEROR.]\n\n\n\n\n THE SIWASH\n THEIR\n LIFE LEGENDS AND TALES\n\n [Illustration]\n\n PUGET SOUND AND PACIFIC NORTHWEST\n\n FULLY ILLUSTRATED\n BY J. A. COSTELLO\n\n [Illustration]\n\n SEATTLE\n THE CALVERT COMPANY\n 716 FRONT STREET\n 1895\n\n COPYRIGHT, 1895, BY\n J. A. COSTELLO\n AND\n SAMUEL F. COOMBS\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE\n\n\nThe excuse for this book is that it is the first attempt to depict the\nlife or ethnology of the maze of Indian tribes on Puget Sound, and it is\nbelieved, will be found not wholly uninteresting. It has been the aim to\nattain as nearly the facts in every instance as possible which in any way\nlead to a proper understanding of the natives of the country as they were\nfound by the first whites to arrive. Mika mam-ook mika tum-tum de-late\nwa-wa. Ko-pet mika ip-soot halo mika tum-tum ko-pa o-coke. De-late wa-wa\nmika tum-tum, nan-ich Sahg-a-lie Tyee; my heart speaks truthful and I\nhide nothing I know concerning the things of which I speak. My talk is\ntruthful as God sees me.\n\nFrom the old pioneer and the more intelligent native have all the\nmaterial facts been drawn, and as these opportunities will not endure for\nmany years longer it is the belief and hope that this work will find an\nenduring place in the home and public libraries.\n\nFor material aid in the compilation of the historical and pictorial\nmatter of this work the author is indebted to Samuel F. Coombs, one\nof the few pioneers who has a genuine interest in the preservation of\nthe life and habits and traditions of the aboriginees; H. A. Smith, of\nSmith\u2019s cove; Rev. Myron Eels for valuable information and assistance,\ntouching the Skokomish Indians; Edward Morse, son of Eldridge Morse, than\nwhom, probably none have a truer insight into the mysteries of early\nIndian life on the Sound; E. H. Brown, and to W. S. Phillips, F. Leather\nand Raphael Coombs, artists.\n\nSEATTLE, December 14, 1895.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n PAGE\n\n CHAPTER I\n\n A bit of history 1\n\n CHAPTER II\n\n Fifty-four forty or fight 4\n\n CHAPTER III\n\n Pioneers of the forties 6\n\n CHAPTER IV\n\n Siwash characteristics 10\n\n CHAPTER V\n\n The Flathead group 13\n\n CHAPTER VI\n\n The Chinook la lang 15\n\n CHAPTER VII\n\n Traditions of Vancouver\u2019s appearance 17\n\n CHAPTER VIII\n\n The Old-Man-House tribe 19\n\n CHAPTER IX\n\n The Twana or Skokomish tribe 33\n\n CHAPTER X\n\n Do-Ka-Batl, a great spirit 46\n\n CHAPTER XI\n\n Their game of sing-gamble 51\n\n CHAPTER XII\n\n Twana Thunderbird 53\n\n CHAPTER XIII\n\n Superstition their religion 57\n\n CHAPTER XIV\n\n Their daily existence 62\n\n CHAPTER XV\n\n Legend of the first frog 69\n\n CHAPTER XVI\n\n Another man in the moon 71\n\n CHAPTER XVII\n\n S\u2019Beow and his grandmother 72\n\n CHAPTER XVIII\n\n The demon Skana 74\n\n CHAPTER XIX\n\n The fall of Snoqualm 75\n\n CHAPTER XX\n\n Legend of the Stick-pan 77\n\n CHAPTER XXI\n\n The magic blanket 79\n\n CHAPTER XXII\n\n Legend of Flathead origin 81\n\n CHAPTER XXIII\n\n Legend of the first flood 82\n\n CHAPTER XXIV\n\n Origin of the sun and moon 83\n\n CHAPTER XXV\n\n Skobia the skunk 84\n\n CHAPTER XXVI\n\n The extinct Shilshoh tribe 86\n\n CHAPTER XXVII\n\n Quinaiults and Quillayutes 90\n\n CHAPTER XXVIII\n\n Tradition of a great Indian battle 99\n\n CHAPTER XXIX\n\n Sealth and allied tribes 102\n\n CHAPTER XXX\n\n The Makah tribe 115\n\n CHAPTER XXXI\n\n Footprints of unknown travelers 122\n\n CHAPTER XXXII\n\n Some neighborly tribes 124\n\n CHAPTER XXXIII\n\n Totemism and superstitions 132\n\n CHAPTER XXXIV\n\n Mythology and native history 139\n\n CHAPTER XXXV\n\n Yalth and the butterfly 142\n\n CHAPTER XXXVI\n\n Potlatch and Devil dance 145\n\n CHAPTER XXXVII\n\n The T\u2019Klinkits and Aleuts 148\n\n CHAPTER XXXVIII\n\n The Indian and the south wind 156\n\n CHAPTER XXXIX\n\n Pleasure and profit in the marsh 159\n\n CHAPTER XL\n\n Indians in the hop fields 162\n\n CHAPTER XLI\n\n Legend of the crucifixion 166\n\n CHAPTER XLII\n\n Romance in real life 168\n\n\n\n\nLIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS\n\n\n Vancouver\u2019s ship (frontispiece) PAGE\n\n On the Sound 3\n\n Sunlight on the water 9\n\n Typical Siwash face 10\n\n A Klootchman 11\n\n La Belle Klootchman 12\n\n Launching 16\n\n Paddling 18\n\n All that\u2019s left of Old-Man-House 20\n\n Wm. Deshaw 22\n\n Grand potlatch 25\n\n Old-Man-House village 28\n\n Digging clams 32\n\n Guardian spirit Totem 41\n\n Wolf mask 42\n\n Wolf mask 44\n\n Bowl and spoon, by Twana Indians 47\n\n Vignette of Chief Seattle 50\n\n Night around the sing-gamble 53\n\n The Twana Thunderbird mask 54\n\n Box made of slate, carving 56\n\n Thunderbird, Dakotah Indians 58\n\n Ojibwa, flying Thunderbird 59\n\n Haida Thunderbird head 60\n\n Ojibwa Thunderer 61\n\n Building Siwash canim 63\n\n Symbolic drawing 68\n\n Indian implements 76\n\n Face mask of Twanas 83\n\n Charm mask 84\n\n Stone and copper war clubs 85\n\n Quinaiults hunting the hair seal 97\n\n Copper and iron daggers 99\n\n Twana war clubs 100\n\n A Quinaiult hut 101\n\n Chief Sealth 102\n\n Oldest house in King county 110\n\n Duke of York 112\n\n East Indian carving 113\n\n Canoe head Totem 114\n\n Totem column, northern Indian 126\n\n The bear mother 129\n\n Haida child dance at Houkan 130\n\n Haida Thundermask 133\n\n Skamson the Thunderer 137\n\n Corner of Houkan village 138\n\n Haida grave-yard 140\n\n Mrs. Schooltka 143\n\n Silver and copper ornaments 144\n\n Quinaiult tribesman 147\n\n Yakutat Alaska 149\n\n Volcano of Boguslof 151\n\n Kodiak Alaska 153\n\n \u201cKla-how-ya\u201d 157\n\n Spearing the hair seal 158\n\n Indian duck hunting 160\n\n Klootchman gathering rushes 161\n\n An educated Indian 163\n\n Stone hatchets 164\n\n Sea otter lookout 165\n\n Beaver marsh 167\n\n\n\n\nTHE SIWASH\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nA BIT OF HISTORY\n\n\nEarly explorations of the Northwest coast now embraced in the limits of\nthe state of Washington came after the discovery and occupation of the\ncoast further south. Unlike the Mexican and California conquests it was\ndevoid of wild and extravagant fact or fancy. There is found in the old\nannals no mention of barbaric splendor, no great empires or extensive\ncities, no magnificent spoils to be carried away.\n\nThe Spaniards first laid claim to the island of Vancouver in 1774. During\nthe war of the Revolution, when England was occupied with her rebellious\nsubjects on the Atlantic sea board, Perez Heceta and other Spanish\nnavigators, explored and took possession, in the name of their sovereign,\nof the largest island on the Pacific coast.\n\nWhat is now the straits of Juan de Fuca, or at that time Anian, had been\nexplored by trading vessels from Spanish settlements along the Mexican\ncoast, and doubtless by navigators of other nationalities, but it was\nnot until near the close of the eighteenth century that the Northwest\ncoast became disputed territory between Spaniards, English, Russians and\nAmericans. In 1688, Martinez and Haro were dispatched by the government\nto the Pacific Northwest, to guard their newly claimed possessions, and\nhere in the following year, Martinez seized a couple of English craft\nand immediately embroiled his parental country in a serious dispute with\nGreat Britain. This was the initial movement in that spirited competition\nbetween the two rival nations which only ended when the Spaniards finally\nsuccumbed to British diplomacy and betook themselves to their southern\npossessions.\n\nCaptain Cook, the English navigator, who later fell a victim to the\nsavage inhabitants of the Sandwich islands, was sent over by his\ngovernment a few years after the Spanish occupation of the island,\nto discover, if possible a northwest passage which should unite the\nwidely separated waters of the Atlantic and Pacific. Cook perpetuated\nthe memory of this voyage by giving names to a number of capes and\npromontories, chief of which is Cape Flattery. At that time the waters of\nFuca strait, Puget Sound and lands adjoining had not been christened by\nthose names by which they are now known.\n\nEnglish navigators explored and gave names to Queen Charlotte islands and\nthe surrounding waters soon after the occupation of the larger island of\nVancouver, but they appear not to have visited the waters of the Georgian\ngulf until some years afterwards.\n\nNumbers of navigators sent out by English companies visited the Northwest\ncoast prior to the voyage of Captain Cook in 1785, and he, in succeeding\nyears by many others who followed close upon his heels, giving names to\nand exploring channels and passages on the west side of Vancouver island.\nAmong the latter navigators who visited the country from 1785 to the\nclose of the Eighteenth century were Captain Portlock in the ship King\nGeorge, the ship Queen Charlotte, Captain Dixon, the latter naming the\nQueen Charlotte islands, Dixon strait, etc. Then there was the Imperial\nEagle, Captain Barclay, who sailed into the waters of Barclay sound,\nsince which they have perpetuated the name of the worthy captain. Captain\nBarclay sailed into the mouth of Fuca straits and sent a boat out on a\nshort exploring expedition. He then passed on south of Cape Flattery,\nwhere he had the misfortune to lose a boat\u2019s crew at the hands of the\nsavages. Captain Meares came the following summer, visited Clayoquot\nsound, gave the name to Fuca straits, christened Tatoosh island, and\nsailed along the coast southward to Shoalwater and Deception bays, and\non to Cape Lookout, and thence retraced his steps to Barclay sound.\nWhile here an exploring party of twelve men under First Officer Duffin\nwere attacked by the Indians and beat a hasty retreat to the ship, after\nbeing severely wounded. The vessel soon after returned to Nootka sound,\nwhere the ship Iphigenia, Captain Douglas, and the sloop Washington had\narrived, followed soon after by the Columbia, Captain Kendrick, from\nBoston. A new vessel had been built at Nootka during that year, and was\nchristened Northwest America, which sailed soon afterwards, accompanied\nby the Iphigenia and Felice.\n\nCaptain Gray, of the Washington, wintered on the west coast of\nVancouver island in 1788, and the following year circumnavigated the\nisland, explored the west coast of Queen Charlotte island and called\nit Washington island. He had, also, during this winter, a residence at\nClayognut harbor. Captain Gray built a fortification, and launched a\nsmall vessel, which he sent to Queen Charlotte island, previous to his\nsailing for the Atlantic coast. George Vancouver did not come till 1792.\n\nSoon afterwards Gray took command of the Columbia, sailed away for Boston\nand returned on a second voyage, and entered and named the Columbia\nriver.\n\nCaptains Lewis and Clark explored the interior of Washington territory\nduring Jefferson\u2019s presidency and settlements were made by the Hudsons\nBay company in 1828. The renowned Whitman came in the 30\u2019s to the Walla\nWalla country and Americans began to settle in 1845 on this side, then a\npart of the Oregon territory.\n\nThe name Puget Sound, as given by Vancouver, the British navigator, in\n1792 extended only to the waters south of Point Defiance, near Tacoma.\nThe waters north of this point were named Hood\u2019s canal, Admiralty inlet,\nPossession sound, Rosario straits, Gulf of Georgia, etc.\n\nThe name Puget Sound afterwards was applied to all the waters included in\nthe American possessions south of British Columbia.\n\nThe Greek pilot Juan de Fuca is supposed to be the first man who ever\nsailed into these placid waters. He thought he had at last found the\n\u201cNorthwest Passage,\u201d but finding that such was not the case, he took\npossession of the country in the name of the king of Spain and then\nmade his way back to Mexico. The straits of Fuca are about 12 miles in\nwidth and 100 miles long from its beginning to where it is lost in the\nmany bays and fjiords and waters that surround the numerous islands at\nits head. There is perhaps no body of water that is as secure for the\nnavigator as the straits of Juan de Fuca, there being no rocks or shoals\nin it. These northern waters are filled with numerous islands and the\ncharacter of the country is almost the same from the 47th to the 60th\nparallel.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nFIFTY-FOUR FORTY OR FIGHT\n\n\nOregon was the name given to the country west of the Rocky mountains and\nthought to extend to 54 degrees 40 minutes north. England also claimed\nthe entire territory. In 1827 a treaty of joint occupation was formed,\nterminated in 1846 by the United States and it seemed for a time likely\nto embroil the two countries in war. A compromise was however effected\nfixing the international boundary at the 49th parallel, and through the\ngood offices of the German Emperor, the beautiful San Juan islands were\nat last given to the American government. It had been said in the English\nparliament, by Sir Robert Peel: \u201cEngland knows her rights and dares\nmaintain them;\u201d while Wentworth, of Illinois, in a speech before congress\nin January, 1844 said: \u201cI think it our duty to speak freely and candidly\nand let England know that she can never have an inch of the country\nclaimed as a part of the United States.\u201d Such is in brief the history of\nWashington prior to the actual occupation and settlement along in the\nlatter 40\u2019s and the early 50\u2019s. Of these we shall speak more fully.\n\nMany yet living within her borders and enjoying the benefits of mature\nand full-fledged statehood remember the time when Washington was an\nalmost unexplored wilderness, silent and tomblike as the Sphinx. The\nfirst faint echoes of civilization were heard only along the shorelines\nof its inland sea, or along the water course of its debouching rivers.\nThe vast and wealth-laden interior was unknown, the inner secrets of the\nDark Continent today being perhaps better known than was the heart of\nthis then northwestern territory. Ships of sail on occasional voyages\nploughed the waters of the placid Sound, distributing here and there\nalong the deeply wooded shore lines a pioneer with his family and\nrude effects, while the less majestic, though none the less important\nwhite-winged \u201cPrairie\u201d schooner, via the Willamette and the Rocky\nMountain passes brought his neighbor, perhaps of Yankeedom, to keep\nhim company in the wilderness. Suffering from the agonies of long sea\nvoyages, or racked with the ills and tribulations of long overland\njourneys across burning sands and rocky passes, they pitched their rude\nhabitations here in the primeval wilds to become neighbors of the dusky\nred man for many years while waiting for the population which should\nfollow in their wake.\n\nIt was early in the forties when this onward march of civilization began\nlanding in this country. \u2019Tis true the fur gatherer was here before\nthem, but they were only transients and saw not, nor cared for the great\nnatural wealth of the country that spread out before them.\n\nIn the Sound country, Fort Steilacoom, Port Townsend, Olympia and Seattle\nand a few down Sound ports became the central points of the sparse\nsettlements which thus early began to spread over the country. The buzz\nof the saw mill was simultaneous with the first efforts of these early\nsettlers, and in its wake came one of the most potent factors in the\ndevelopment of new countries\u2014the newspaper.\n\nAs it was in California, so it was in a great measure in this northwest\ncountry, the greed for gold formed the incentive that hastened the\nearly and quick settlement of the Northwest coast. \u201cTo Frazer River,\u201d\nwas the watchword from California and the east, and thousands hastened\nto the unexplored country to find first, disappointment, and secondly,\npermanent homes. The overflow from the mines added many hundreds to the\npermanent settlements on the Sound and in the interior and the march of\ncivilization and commerce was greatly augmented.\n\nIn 1858, and even at an earlier date, the newspaper became an important\nfactor in the development of the country. On the 12th of March of that\nyear, the first issue of the Puget Sound Herald appeared. The editor\nthereof, Mr. Charles Prosch, has humorously written of the manner in\nwhich he gathered in the $20-gold-pieces from enthusiastic subscribers,\nand speaks of his reception by the hardy settlers as having been\nexceedingly gratifying and flattering. At that time but one other\nnewspaper was issued in the territory, that being the Pioneer and\nDemocrat, a partisan journal of bitter proclivities.\n\nPrevious to 1845, this magnificent arm of the Pacific ocean\u2014Puget\nSound\u2014was used only as a thoroughfare of trade by the Hudsons Bay\ncompany, and save the arrival of a few vessels in that company\u2019s service,\nits placid water was disturbed only by the canoe of the native red man,\nand the unbroken silence of the tree-clad shores proclaimed the country\na wilderness. The posts of the above named company at Cowlitz river and\nFort Nisqually were the only evidences of civilization. No extensive\nexplorations had ever been made by the company\u2019s agents, and the Indians\nconfined themselves to the streams and shores of the Sound and so gave no\ninformation regarding the country in the interior.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nPIONEERS OF THE FORTIES\n\n\nIn August 1845 Col. M. T. Simmons, George Wauch and seven others arrived\nat Budd\u2019s inlet, under the pilotage of Peter Bercier, the first American\ncitizens who ever settled north of the Columbia river. Being pleased\nwith the appearance of the country Col. Simmons returned to the Columbia\nwhere he had left his family and in October of the same year moved over\naccompanied by J. McAllister, D. Kindred, Gabriel Jones, Geo. Bush and\nfamilies, and J. Ferguson and S. B. Crocket, single men. They at first\nsettled on prairies from one to eight miles back of the present town of\nOlympia.\n\nThey were fifteen days in completing this journey from Cowlitz landing to\nthe Sound, a distance of 60 miles, being compelled to cut a trail through\nthe timbered part of the country.\n\nIn the fall of the same year J. R. Jackson located at Aurora.\n\nIn 1846 S. S. Ford and J. Borst settled on the Chickeeles river, Packwood\nand Eaton with their families also joined the American settlers on the\nSound the same year and Col. Simmons erected the first American grist\nmill north of the Columbia river. Previous to this the inhabitants had to\nsubsist on boiled wheat or do their grinding with hand mills.\n\nIn 1847 the first house, a log cabin, was built in Olympia and E.\nSylvester, Chambers, Brail and Shayer located on the Sound during the\nsame year. The first saw mill was erected at the falls of Deschutes\nriver by Col. Simmons and his friends during the same year. In June 1848\nthe Rev. Father Richard established the Roman Catholic mission of St.\nJoseph on Budd\u2019s inlet, one mile and a half below Olympia, and a few more\nfamilies were added to the settlement of the Sound country that year.\n\nIn the year 1849 the brig Orbit from San Francisco put into Budd\u2019s inlet\nfor a load of piles and that was the opening of the lumber trade.\n\nIn 1850 the first frame house was put up in Olympia, and during the same\nyear Col. I. N. Eby made a settlement on Whidby island and a number of\nother improvements and new settlements were made during the year. In 1851\nFort Steilacoom was established by Capt. L. Balch, and Bachelor, Plummer,\nPettygrove, Hastings and Wilson, names familiar even at this day around\nPort Townsend, came in the same year, while Steilacoom City by J. B.\nChapman and New York (Alki point) by Mr. Lowe were founded.\n\nFrom the beginning of the 50\u2019s the settlement of the country became too\nswift to permit of following the individual pioneers in their brave and\ndaring exploits in hewing homes out of the primeval wilderness. There\nwas no general way of reaching Puget Sound up to this time except by the\ntoilsome trail from the Columbia river, and the necessity of a steamer\nfrom San Francisco became the leading topic in the settlements. Capt.\nA. B. Gove of the ship Pacific took the matter up and agitation, as it\nalways does, soon after had the desired effect.\n\nThe report of Wilke\u2019s expedition and the development of the fur trade\ncaused American interests to be directed toward this country. The account\nof Joe Meek who went overland from Walla Walla and gave such glowing\ndescriptions of the Territory of Oregon had its effect, 1848, as he\nexpressed himself; \u201cthis was the finest country that ever a bird flew\nover.\u201d\n\nThe lower house of Congress passed a bill to establish a territorial\ngovernment for Oregon January 10, 1847, but many difficulties were in\nthe way before it became a law, and the slave question, 1848, had its\ninfluence. It was in the middle of August of the last year of President\nPolk\u2019s administration before the territorial government bill for Oregon\nbecame a law and the long journey over the mountains caused much more\ndelay.\n\nJoseph Lane of Indiana was appointed Oregon\u2019s first Governor with\nKnitzing Pritchett of Pennsylvania as Secretary, W. P. Bryant of Indiana\nas Chief Justice, F. Turney of Illinois and P. H. Burnett of Oregon\nas Associate Justices, I. W. R. Bromley of New York as United States\nAttorney, Joseph L. Meek Marshal and John Adair of Kentucky Collector of\nthe District of Oregon. Turney declining, O. C. Pratt of Ohio was named\nin his place. Bromley also declined and Amory Holbrook was appointed in\nhis place. The party landed at Oregon City two days before the expiration\nof Polk\u2019s term of office.\n\nDuring the fall of 1852 the people of Northern Oregon, now Washington,\nwere loud in their demands for a separate territory and The Columbian,\na bright little paper published at Olympia, became a zealous worker in\nbehalf of a separate jurisdiction.\n\nNorthern Oregon was at first slow to attract the full tide of emigration,\nthe worn out travelers who had journeyed across the plains were glad to\nfind a resting place in the valleys of the Columbia or Willamette and\nthose people who had homes established in Southern Oregon were always\neager to discourage the emigration to the northern territory and often\ncirculated reports condemning the Puget Sound country that caused a\ndegree of enmity to exist between the two sections of the Northwest. The\nmajority of the population being south of the Columbia river had the\nresult of causing the attention of the government to be always directed\nto that part of the country and every appropriation from Congress was for\nthe benefit of Southern Oregon and for a time the country bordering on\nPuget Sound was left to take care of itself. That naturally caused the\npeople who had sought homes in that northern part of the country to ask\nthat they be formed into a separate territory.\n\nNot among the least of the trials and dangers which beset the early\npioneer, were those which arose by reason of the contact with Indians.\nThe average Siwash was a peaceable being, but the worst danger came from\nthe deceitful and savage northern tribes and east of the mountain clans.\nFrom Nootka sound, Queen Charlotte and Vancouver islands, came swarms\nof the red devils in their nimble canoes and left havoc and destruction\namong many a pleasant home and settlement. Across the Cascade passes came\nbands of painted warriors spreading terror and death on every side.\n\nNumbers of the early settlers fell early victims to the atrocities of\nthese bloodthirsty bands, and their names are only remembered by the\nfew survivors whose silver hair and wrinkled features form objects of\ninterest, as they stand upon the pavement, in the pushing throng now\ncrowding our busy thoroughfares. If you will ask Charles Prosch, Hillory\nButler, Judge Swan, John Collins, G.A. Meigs and other old patriarchs yet\namong us, they can recount many a stirring tale of battle and ambush, and\nname over many an old settler who years ago gave away his life in his\nefforts to pave the way for the thousands, who, happy in the peaceful\npresent, go about their daily work with scarce a thought of those early\ntimes.\n\nConcerning themselves the rightful owners of the soil, the Indians,\nlooked with jealous eye upon the daily encroachment of the whites and\nregarded with increasing and ominous distrust the oft repeated and oft\nbroken promises held out to them that this land would be purchased\nunder treaties with the government. Then the habits of the Indian was\ndisgusting to the eye of civilization and no language can ever draw the\nslothful and dirtyness of this people, yet there were many wrongs done\nthem and it was no more than could be expected that they would, true to\ntheir nature, do such acts of barbarity as would shock the whites and\nbring upon the Indian a terrible revenge and that a war for supremacy\nwould only end in his discomfiture.\n\n\u201cMoney was plentiful,\u201d remarks one of the early chroniclers of those\ntimes, \u201cand I was not a little surprised at the abundance of money in\nthe hands of the people. All but the farmers seemed to carry purses well\nfilled with twenty dollar gold pieces. The farmers had been driven from\ntheir homes and impoverished by the Indian wars of 1856, from the effects\nof which they had not had time to recover; but the men engaged in cutting\npiles and logging for the mills (and they comprised a large proportion\nof the whites here) suffered but little from the same cause. The man\nwho owned the building in which I first printed my paper could neither\nread nor write, but managed to earn thirty dollars a day by hauling piles\nwith three yoke of oxen from the timber to the water. Soldiers received\npermission from the officers to cut these piles, and earned ten dollars\neach a day. All lumbermen were paid in like manner.\u201d\n\nThe now historic Hudsons Bay company was in early Washington days a power\nin the wilderness and with the native Indians. Their agents and trappers\nencroached upon every square mile of wilderness, almost from Hudsons\nbay to Puget Sound. Their forts occupied the most important places in\nthe developing Northwest, and were viewed with more or less of distrust\nby American settlers. Fortunately, a friendly and parental government\nintervened in time, to the great advantage of the pioneers dwelling\nupon the disputed country. First a ten years\u2019 lease of, and then final\npurchase of the improvements of the Hudsons Bay company did away forever\nwith the English fur monopoly in Washington territory.\n\nIn 1858 the permanent white settlement on Puget Sound numbered, according\nto one chronologer, 2500. The festive boomer in real estate and the\ndispenser of town lots and \u201cwildcat\u201d schemes was a being incognito. His\nsun had not then risen. A single newcomer in those times was an event of\nneighborhood notoriety. The blowing of an incoming steamer\u2019s whistle was\na signal for every resident, male, female, child and Indian to hasten\nto the landing, the former to peer into the faces of the passengers for\nfriends or relatives, the latter to gape in open-eyed astonishment at the\nwhite man\u2019s monster, the steamboat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\nTHE SIWASH CHARACTERISTICS\n\n\nThe history of the Siwash is tradition, as it is with all aborigines.\nThe early tales of the Norsemen, the Gaul, the Celt, are mere matters\nof history, perhaps distorted, but withal, history. The lower the order\nof the race, the lower its mental capacities, the more truth there is\nin the lore\u2014the tales of its past. The incidents of their lives which\ncollectively become their history, are handed down from father to son,\nfrom generation to generation, plain and unembellished. The Siwash, a\nrace to whom instinct is superior to thought, are perhaps the strongest\nexample of a people whose history is least faulty. What grandsire has\ntold to father is retold to son in a language whose vocabulary is so\nlimited as not to permit of changing of the original subject matter.\nTrue, the same deficiency of mental power blots out the distant past.\nThree generations represent the era of their history; beyond that the\ngrandsire\u2019s memory closes; but as the incidents which are here chronicled\nare within the memory of many natives living at this time, and from\nwhom they were gathered and related without variation it can be truly\naccepted as authentic. It has been practically accepted as a historic\nfact that Vancouver first penetrated into Puget Sound with his vessel the\nDiscoveror. Juan de Fuca preceded him on the straits, but to Vancouver\nbelongs the glory of having first penetrated to the upper Sound and\npointed out a way for the sturdy pioneers that were to follow him. The\nfirst vessel of which the Indians, on the upper Sound at least, had any\nmemory at the time the whites began to flock among them was certainly\nVancouver\u2019s.\n\n[Illustration: TYPICAL SIWASH FACE]\n\nThe Siwash of Puget Sound (a general term applied to males of all the\ntribes) and the Indians of the entire North Pacific coast, like every\nnative of every country possessing significant features of topography,\nflora, and most of all climate, is bent to his surroundings. The Siwash\nis the creature of the circumstances of climate in a very great degree,\nand he could never escape it\u2014never will till the last of his race is\nlost in oblivion. His mode of life, the almost continual living in a\nsquatting, cramped position in his canim from generation to generation,\nshows in his broken, ungraceful proportions today; and it cannot\nbe doubted but that in the humid atmosphere of Puget Sound and the\nabbreviated territory in which he has lived are to be found the potent\nfactors that have united to make him at this day the essence of ugliness\nin human mould.\n\nNo matter where the Siwash came from, his past is so remote it will never\nbe known.\n\nA favorite way some have and a plausible excuse for saying anything at\nall, is to speculate on the Asiatic origin of the Indians of this part\nof America. Captain Maryatt tries to locate the Shoshones, whom he gives\nvery wide latitude and longitude on the Pacific coast, among ruined\ncities and an extinct civilization and fauna, in distant Tartary; the\nHydias are ascribed to Japan; the Kanacka resembles the Japanese, etc.\nAs well assume the Siwash of Puget Sound are descendants of the Dakotahs\nor of some of the tribes east of the great Father of Waters, because\nthe Thunderbird myth is traced from east to west with slightly varying\nantecedents and forms from one tribe to another. The Indian origin is a\ntheme for speculation only.\n\n[Illustration: A KLOOTCHMAN]\n\nThe Siwash is indubitably the result of hundreds of years residence on\nthe forest-fringed shores of his Whulge. He probably could not endure for\na generation elsewhere. He is completely moulded to his surroundings and\nis more nearly able to resist the deleterious results of the superior\ncivilization than 99 out of 100 of the tribes in the broad interior of\nthe American continent. Years and years ago, when the renowned old Chief\nSealth was at the head of the allied tribes around Sdze-Sdze-la-lich and\nSqu-ducks (Seattle and West Seattle, or Elliott bay and Alki point), it\nis said that his legions numbered not more than 750 or 800 Indians. Who\ntoday will say that there is not now nearly that number of Indians almost\nwithin the same confines? In the face of the most aggressive development\nand civilization of the last ten years, robbed of every favorite haunt\nfor hunting and fishing, with paddle wheels never ceasing to disturb the\nquiet waters of his ancient rivers and bays where the salmon was wont to\nsport, and with new population that had encroached upon every foot of\nland where his klootchman might have raised a little patch of potatoes,\nas she did a score of years ago, he has withstood it all and continues\nto hold on. No one ever hears of a Siwash dying unless occasionally on\nthe reservations. A papoose dies once in a while during a change from\nthe ordinary modes of life brought about by annual migrations to the hop\nfields.\n\n[Illustration: LA BELLE KLOOTCHMAN]\n\nThe Siwash is the very reverse of a Nomad. He is studious only in his\nstolidity and inactivity. He never travels within the meaning of the\nword, and there\u2019s probably not a dozen of the full-blooded Indians who\nhave been fifty miles from salt water. It was not infrequent for the\nplains\u2019 Indians beyond the great coast range of mountains to descend to\nthe sea, but that the Siwash should ascend to and beyond the summit of\nthose lofty and snow-clad hills\u2014never.\n\nOut of his canoe he is a fish out of water, a sloth away from his natural\nsurroundings. He is like a seal on shore, a duck on dry land, ungainly\nand awkward. He never, probably, was brave, never quarrelsome in that he\nwent out in search of war. Not infrequently he was the object of forays\nby his kinsmen from the far north or the east. Then he defended himself\nand family as best he could and got into the brush with all possible\nhaste, where he was as safe from pursuit as if in a citadel. Not in the\nmuseums anywhere in the country is there at this time, it is believed,\na single genuine implement of war of the early Indians who lived on\nthe shores of Puget Sound. The Atlantic seaboard and the interior were\ndeluged with centuries, it may be said, of savage warfare. One short war,\na mere uprising on Puget Sound in early days, and that instigated by\nnatives living beyond the edges of the Puget Sound forest, and all was\nover. Ever after the Siwash was an indifferent, uncomplaining creature.\nHe drew one or two short annuities and government aid was practically\nwithdrawn, and that, too, after his heritage of woods and waters had been\ntaken from him. But one hears no plaint of disturbed and unmanageable\nIndians. He is content to live on so long as there is space for his cedar\ncanoe to glide on the water and an open beach whereon he may erect a\ntemporary tent.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nTHE FLATHEAD GROUP\n\n\nThe Puget Sound Indians have generally been classified according to the\nlanguage spoken by them in the Selish family or Flathead group. They\nwere first classified in this way by Albert Gallatin, who was one of\nthe first Americans to interest himself in the ethnology of the North\nAmerican Indian. The extent of the Selish family was not known by\nGallatin, neither did he know the exact locality of the tribe whose name\nhe extended to this great family of tribes. The tribe is stated to have\nresided upon one of the branches of the Columbia river, which must be\neither the most southerly branch of Clark\u2019s Fork or the most northerly\nbranch of Lewis river. The former supposition is correct. As employed\nby Gallatin the family embraced only a single tribe, the Flathead tribe\nproper. The Atnah, a Selishan tribe was considered by Gallatin to be\ndistinct, and the name Atnah according to him would be eligible as the\nfamily name; preference, however, is given to Selish. The few words given\nby Gallatin in his American Arch\u00e6ology from the Friendly Village near the\nsources of the Salmon river belong under this family.\n\nSince Gallatin\u2019s time our knowledge of the territorial limits of this\ngreat linguistic family has greatly extended. The most southerly tribes\nare the Tillamooks who extend along the Oregon coast about 50 miles\nsouth of the Columbia river. Beginning on the north side of Shoalwater\nbay, Selishan tribes held the entire northwestern part of Washington,\nincluding the whole Puget Sound region except some insignificant spots\nabout Cape Flattery, which were held by the Makah and the Chimakuan\ntribes. The Selishans also held a large portion of the eastern coast of\nVancouver island, while the greater area of their territory lay on the\nmain land opposite and included much of the country tributary to the\nupper Columbia. They were hemmed in on the south mainly by the Shahaptian\ntribes. They dwelt as far east as the extreme eastern feeders of the\nColumbia, and on the southeast their territory extended into Montana.\n\nWithin the territory thus indicated there are a great variety of costumes\nwith greater differences in language.\n\nDuring the early explorations along the Pacific coast the Selishan\nIndians held the territory along the western coast of Vancouver island as\nfar north as Nootka sound, but since that time the Aht races of the west\ncoast of the island have crowded them to the southward and eastward until\nnow even the Neah bay agency is largely composed of Makah Indians, while\nthe Chimakuans have obtained a strong foothold further south along the\ncoast.\n\nThese Selish Indians were subdivided into numerous tribes, each one\nspeaking a language a little different than the rest.\n\nThe Semi-ah-moos occupied the region of country nearest the British\nboundary line, but they were not a large tribe.\n\nProceeding southward were the Nooksacks, who inhabited the valley of the\nriver of the same name; the Lummies, who lived around Bellingham bay; the\nSamish Indians, who camped along the banks of the Samish river and around\nits mouth, while the more important tribes to the south of them were the\nSkagits, Snoqualmies, Nis-qual-lies and Puyallups. On the west side of\nthe Sound the most important tribes were the Chehalis, Clallam, Cowlitz,\nSko-ko-mish or Twanas and Chinook Indians.\n\nThe Snoqualmies occupied the valleys of the Snohomish and Snoqualmie\nrivers from a short distance above the mouth of the Snohomish. The\nSnohomish Indians proper lived around its mouth. Much of the time\nthe Snoqualmies occupied a large portion of the Still-a-guam-ish and\nSky-ko-mish valleys. The tribe known as the Snohomish Indians never\nextended their territory far above the mouth of the river.\n\nThe Puyallups lived along the river of that name and about Commencement\nbay, while the Nis-qual-lies were most numerous around Olympia and the\nStillacoom plains. There were also a number of smaller tribes that have\nnot yet been mentioned who lived for the most part along some portions\nof the streams or lakes which bear their names. Among them the Duwamish,\nSamamish, Satsops, Stillacooms, Squaxons, Sumas, Suquamps and Swinomish\nIndians.\n\nThe Makahs around Cape Flattery, as has been stated, were closely related\nin language with the Indians of Vancouver island and it also appears\nthat the Clallams or the Nus-klai-yums, as they called themselves, were\nclosely connected with them ethnically, but though they show certain\naffinities for the Nootka dialect there is no doubt but that they belong\nto the Selish or Flathead stock.\n\nThe dialects of the Lummies and Semi-ah-moos have some affinity with the\nSanetch dialect of Vancouver island as well as for the Nootka and the\nSkagit, Samish and Nisqually Indians which strongly approach each other\nwhile there are some wide variations among the dialects of some of the\nintervening tribes.\n\nOf all the languages spoken by the aborigines of the Northwest coast of\nAmerica the Chinook spoken in various dialects by the tribes around the\nmouth of the Columbia river is the most intricate. The English vocabulary\ndoes not contain words to describe it. To say that it is guttural,\nclucking, spluttering and the like, is to put it mildly. The Chinook does\nnot appear to have yet discovered the use of tongue and lips in speaking.\nLike the T\u2019Klinkit of Alaska, their language contains no labials, but the\nT\u2019Klinkit is music in comparison to it.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\nTHE CHINOOK LA LANG\n\n\nThere is danger of falling into error concerning the Chinook jargon, by\nconfusing it with the intricate language of a tribe of that name. On the\nother hand, people are apt to make the mistake of imputing its invention\nto a few of the Hudsons Bay company\u2019s factors at Astoria.\n\nThe Chinook jargon was and is yet employed by the white people in their\ndealings with the natives, as well as by the natives among themselves. It\nis spoken all over Washington, Oregon, a portion of Idaho and the whole\nlength of Vancouver island. Like other languages formed for convenience\nit is in all probability a gradual growth. There seems but little doubt\nthat the rudiments of it first existed among the natives themselves\nand that the trappers and hunters adopted it and improved upon it to\nfacilitate intercourse with the natives. Slowly it was brought to its\npresent state.\n\nWhen Lewis and Clark reached the coast in 1806, the jargon seems to\nhave already assumed a fixed shape. It was extensively quoted by those\nexplorers. But no English or French words of which it now contains so\nmany, seem to have been added after the expedition sent out by John\nJacob Astor reached the coast. The words of the original jargon have\nbeen modified to a large extent however. They have been so changed as to\neliminate much of the harsh guttural unpronounceable native crackling,\nthus forming a speech far more suitable to all. In the same manner, some\nof the English sounds such as \u201cf\u201d and \u201cr,\u201d which are so troublesome\nto the native were either dropped or changed to \u201cp\u201d and \u201cl,\u201d and all\nunnecessary grammatical forms have been eradicated. Even the Chinook\njargon is not without its dialects. There are many words used at Victoria\nthat are not used at Seattle or at the mouth of the Columbia. This fact\nmay be accounted for in various ways, but chiefly by the introduction\nof foreign words. Thus an Indian sees some object that is unfamiliar to\nhim and asks to know the name of it. The trader tells him a name and\nwith him it continues to be the name of the article ever afterward. For\nexample: bread, is always biscuit; whisky is paih-water, or in some\nlocalities, paih-chuck; a cat is expressed as a puss-puss, an American is\na Boston-man, and a Britisher a King-George-man. However, in different\nlocalities the things may be named quite differently.\n\nMr. Gibbs, formerly of the British boundary commission, has stated that\nthe number of Chinook words were about five hundred. After analyzing the\nlanguage carefully he classified the words into the various languages\nfrom which they originated and came to the following conclusion as to\nthe number of words derived from each: Chinook and Clatsop, 200 words;\nChinook having analogies with other languages, 21 words; interjections\ncommon to several, 8 words; Nootka, including dialects, 24 words;\nChehalis, 32, and Nisqually 7 words; Klikitat and Yakima, 2 words; Cree,\n2 words; Chippeway, 1 word; Wasco, 4 words; Calapooya, 4 words; by direct\nonomatopoeia, 6 words; derivation unknown, 18 words; French, 90 words;\nCanadian, 4 words; English, 67 words.\n\nThere are many people who think the Chinook jargon to be the invention\nof McLaughlin, the Hudsons Bay company\u2019s factor at Astoria, but the\nforegoing facts cited by Mr. Gibbs would seem to indicate that nothing\ncould be further from the truth. There is no doubt however, that the\ngreat fur company assisted it in its development and aided in its spread\nbut even then, American settlers and traders contributed more than the\nHudsons Bay company ever did. It is a remarkable fact that such old\nIndians as came in contact with the Hudsons Bay company only, could\nnot speak Chinook while the younger class who came in contact with the\nsettlers and traders could all speak it.\n\nIt is already on record that Chiefs Sealth and Hettie Kanim belonged to\nthe former class who never learned to speak Chinook.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\nTRADITIONS OF VANCOUVER\u2019S APPEARANCE\n\n\nJacobs, Big John, William Kitsap and others were among the leading or\nhead men of the tribes on the upper Sound when the whites came. They\nwere given christian names by the early settlers and before their deaths\ncommanded the respect of the whites, who not only learned their simple\ntongue, but were often regaled with the traditions and history of their\ntribes. From these men were gleaned the account of the arrival on the\nupper Sound of the first ship. Before any of these existing Indians were\nborn, so their fathers had imparted to them, during the early part of\na \u201cwarm sun\u201d (summer time) just after sunset while the Indians were in\ncamp at Beans point, near what are now known as Blakeley rocks, the camp\nwas thrown into great excitement and they ran about the beach uttering\nexclamations of wonder and astonishment. There upon the bosom of the\nplacid Sound was the first white man\u2019s ship with wings outspread. Never\nhad Indian eyes looked upon anything so wonderful. \u201cUch-i-dah uch-i-dah\u201d\nwonderful, wonderful. \u201cIk-tch-o-coke; Ik-tch-o-coke!\u201d what is that, what\nis that. Then the astonished natives took to the woods, fearing the\ngreatest evil and disaster as they heard for the first time the noise of\nfiring cannon. The more superstitious conceived it a message from the\nGreat Spirit and were filled with the greatest alarm. Old Chief Kitsap\nwas there and the brave old fellow stood his ground and by his demeanor\nallayed the fears of the more timorous, as well as by pronouncing it a\nbig canoe. It is believed that Kitsap had, on some of his migrations to\nthe lower Sound waters and straits, come in contact with some of the\nearlier Spanish cruisers. This was the belief of the older Indians at the\ntime of the first white occupation of this country. Both Kitsap and old\nChief Sealth had made voyages at that time as far north as what is now\nVictoria harbor.\n\nThe next day following the appearance of the strange visitors, old Kitsap\nwith a few of his sub-chiefs were persuaded to go on board the vessel and\nwere filled with unbounded astonishment at what they saw. It was with an\nevident relish and much interest that the old Indians above named related\nthrough the interpreter Alfred, the story of the visit aboard the first\nship, as it was related to them by their fathers and grandsires. Iron,\nmetal goods, knives, forks, chains, firearms and hard bread and other\ngoods were brought out for their inspection. They were offered the hard\nbread and molasses to eat. The Indians called the latter Ta-gum, which in\nChinook means pitch, but after persuasion tasted it and were well pleased\nand partook of both bread and molasses. Old Kitsap soon made himself at\nhome on board the vessel and the strange white creatures that flitted\nabout her decks were, after the first visit or two, without fear for the\nsturdy old native. The Indian account, meager as it is, tallies well with\nVancouver\u2019s record of the same when, for instance, he says it was on\nthe 16th of May, 1792, that he anchored off an island which they named\nBainbridge and near a ledge of rocks they called Blakeley rocks.\n\nThe Indians\u2019 account of Vancouver\u2019s movements while anchored off and in\nview of what is now Seattle harbor or Elliott bay, corresponds with his\nown. Kitsap piloted Vancouver up the Sound to what is now Olympia. While\non this cruise with row-boats they visited the celebrated Old-Man-House\nat North bay, an Indian rendesvous already mentioned. After an exploring\nexpedition of ten or twelve days up the Sound, old Chief Kitsap as pilot\nwent with Vancouver on a cruise down inside the Whidby island channel to\nBellingham bay. Vancouver\u2019s ship remained at anchor nearly two moons at\nBlakeley rocks and the Indians secured of him the first instruments made\nof iron with which they executed fine carving, after the fashion of the\ntotem posts at the Old-Man-House.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\nTHE OLD-MAN-HOUSE TRIBE\n\n\nThe history of the Old-Man-House (or as the Indians called it\nTsu-Suc-Cub) if fully known would unfold a story as interesting as\nromance. At this late day its time and surroundings are so shrouded in\nthe mists of the past that but only a glimpse can be had. Its habitats\nlike itself have long years since withered and returned to dust. Probably\nthe best and most authentic account of its history and purpose is the\nstory told by Indian Williams, or as the Indians called him, Sub-Qualth,\nabout 80 or 85 years old at that time, and long since joined to his\nfathers. Old Williams told his story through an intelligent interpreter\nalso of the Old-Man-House reservation, whose name had been christianized\nto that of H. S. Alfred.\n\nIn the Tsu-Suc-Cub lived eight great chiefs and their people. Space in\nthe big house was allotted to each chief and his people and this was\nreligiously consecrated to them and never encroached upon by others. To\nold Chief Sealth was given the position of honor; Chief Kitsap came next,\nSealth\u2019s aged father ranked third, and Tsu-lu-Cub came fourth. These four\nSub Qualth remembered and they represented one-half of the Tsu-Suc-Cub.\nThe next four Sub Qualth did not remember but his father, who was a\ncousin of Chief Sealth had told him their names. There was Bec-kl-lus,\nSte-ach-e-cum, Oc-ub, and Lach-e-ma-sub. These were petty chieftains with\nsubordinate tribes and authority and each had a carved totem supposed\nto properly delineate and perpetuate the deeds of valor of himself and\npeople.\n\nIn 1859 there were many of these carved posts remaining and yet standing\nin fairly good preservation with the big logs still resting on them 16 to\n20 feet above the ground. Three of them remained in position in 1870, but\nduring the next fifteen years all were torn down, or falling from decay,\nwere carried off and lost to the historian.\n\nThe posts in the front were about 25 feet apart, making the length of\nthe structure over 1,000 feet frontage with the width of the main room\nfully 60 feet inside. The big corner post was of cedar, as were all of\nthem for that matter, and was of immense size, showing that the tree from\nwhich it was cut must have been seven feet through. Clear and distinctly\ncut on the front of the big totem stood out first and foremost the big\nThunderbird in the proportions in which it had fixed itself in the minds\nof the particular tribe. On the same totem was carved the full sized\nfigure of a man with bow and arrows, representing the old Chief Kitsap,\nthe most noted chief for great strength and prowess on the Sound, save\npossibly old Sealth.\n\n[Illustration: ALL THAT\u2019S LEFT OF OLD-MAN-HOUSE]\n\nWhat a home it must have been. Although the family residing there was\nlarge, yet never a resident of Washington lived in a home more spacious.\nIt covered the length and breadth of sandy beach like a king\u2019s palace\nthat it was. Three hundred and eighty-four or ninety-four yards, as Wm.\nDeshaw remembered, did it stretch away up and down the beach of the\nnarrow Agate passage. Twenty yards or more in breadth it extended back\nto the edge of the little bluff where its long timbers rested as on a\nfootstool, and high enough for the tallest Indian brave.\n\nThe outlines of the old pile are still readily traceable along the ground\nalthough it has been nearly thirty years since the Indians gave it up as\na place of abode and took to constructing little huts and lean-tos along\nthe beach and on the gentle slopes above. The attractive relic of the\nold structure and the one that lends the best idea of the old building\u2019s\noriginal shape, is one of the log rafters still resting in position on\ntwo immense uprights just as it did in the days when the allied tribes\nhoisted its great weight into the air. It is a cedar log 63 feet long,\n12 inches in diameter at the smaller end and probably 23 or 24 inches at\nthe larger end. The uprights, to lend color to the great proportions the\nold building must have attained, are of immense cedar trees that must\nhave been four feet through. The one nearer the water is 12 feet high and\nthe other fully eight feet. The big timbers were first split asunder and\nthe inside hollowed out and hewn away until a piece probably 10 or 12\ninches thick had been left to form the upright. They have been hoisted\ninto position with the convex or bark side turned to face the interior of\nthe house and tamped into the ground until they became solidly set and\nable to support the great weight that was put on above. Back of the row\nof uprights that stood at the rear and furthest from the beach, extended\nanother row of stringers or girders to the bank, supporting also a roof,\nand this greatly enlarged the area of the building. Up and down the beach\nare numberless posts and foundation blocks of the old house and all in a\ngood state of preservation, as is the single big rafter and two uprights\nyet in position. These latter are only worn and rotted where they came\nin contact once with the other or where they enter at the surface of the\nground.\n\nAn alder bush, a salal bush, and a weed or two have found a foothold in\nan old wind crack of the rafter and now add to its quaint and picturesque\nappearance. All else has been torn down or fallen down by the lapse of\ntime and has either floated off with the tide or been burned up in their\nearthen fires.\n\nFive hundred, six hundred, and as high as seven hundred Indians lived\nin the big palace here at one time. They lived here long after the\nwhite people came among them. The site had been their great village for\nprobably hundreds of years before. Successive chiefs have sat in council\nhere and great war dances and night orgies held through generations of\ntime under the chiefs of the Sealth.\n\nGreat banks of crushed and broken and roasted clam shells that whiten\nthe beach and cover the bottom of the sea as with a porcelain lining far\nout into deep water, attest this better than could have musty scroll\nor parchment. The entire sea beach extending back onto the high ground\nis but a bed of decayed clam shells, and even as high up as the Indian\nfarmer\u2019s little garden, soil had to be carted in and put upon it, in\nwhich the seed germs could take hold and grow. Below it was a bed of\nlime-like earth, the offal and remains of many thousands of Indian feasts.\n\nBesides the vast amount of crumbled shell mounds there are other and\nsmaller mounds about the site that look as if they might have served the\npurpose of an elevated fire place. The whole area is overgrown with a\nthick carpet of short sand grass which even now makes it a most inviting\nplace for campers or picnic parties. Beyond the few things mentioned\nabove there is nothing to remind one now of the interesting past\nhereabouts.\n\nAn interesting character still resides, 1895, at the Old-Man-House\nreservation. He is William Deshaw, whom the tides of time cast upon the\nbeach at Agate point, Kitsap county, 27 years ago.\n\n[Illustration: WILLIAM DESHAW, THE PIONEER AND INTIMATE FRIEND OF CHIEF\nSEALTH\n\nFrom a Life Sketch]\n\nDeshaw, a rank copper-head to this day, is part of the flotsam and jetsam\nthat came into the Sound along with the early tide of emigration. He was\nborn in Galveston, Texas, in 1834, and was part of the early drift of\nArizona, New Mexico and California. He went into the Sacramento valley\na year before the others struck the coast and true to his nature of\nmoving out on the flood tides soon left there and came this way. He has\nbeen shot full of arrow holes, and has among numerous other trophies\nfive Indian scalps in his trunk of his own taking. That he ever remained\nhere so long is entirely due to the climate. Let the rains of one long\nwinter on Puget Sound percolate down a man\u2019s back and he seldom gets\naway after that. He takes to it, as it were, like the moss on the roof,\nand becomes a fixture of the location. And so it was with the old Texan.\nHe drifted in here for a stay of a month or two and he is here yet. He\nsoon got mixed up with the natives, became a squaw man and never after\nthat could he pull himself away. And why should he leave? He had wedded\ninto the royal house of Sealth; wedded a princess, a grand-daughter of\nthe chief of the allied tribes of the Duwamish, Samamish, Squamish,\netc., and probably forgot about his old-time habit of drifting. Mrs.\nDeshaw, nee Princess Mary Sealth, has been dead these many years, and\nnow lies buried in the little reservation churchyard on the hill across\nthe narrow strip of tide water. There are, however, two fine looking\ngirls and some boys left of the union, and in their society the old man\nis happy and contented. Speaking of the little \u201cGod\u2019s acre\u201d on the hill\nnear the reservation church reminds us very vividly that within its\nsacred precincts rests almost all that there is of the races and tribes\nof Sealth. Eighteen new mounds have been added during the past year. Yet\na little while and there will not be a solitary individual left alive to\nremind those of to-day that such a people ever lived. Father Time has\nwrought some rapid changes with the allied tribes since the whites came\namong them. The evil and contaminating influences that have ever followed\ncivilization into the dominion of the simple natives, coupled in this\ncase with their severe and taxing superstitions, have combined to quickly\nwipe them out of existence.\n\nSo quickly have the changes been wrought that whole families have\ndisappeared almost in the night-time. A Siwash with a wife and eight or\nten apparently healthy children might wake up to-morrow to find himself\na widower without family. Men there are now at the Old-Man-House who\nhave buried their third wife and living with the fourth. Klootchmen were\npointed out who have married five different times and only the fifth\nman living. Chief of Police Jimmy Sealth is the fourth husband of his\npresent wife, who is not over 30 years of age. She lost her first, second\nand third husbands successively, and with the first one buried seven\nchildren. The record of the second and third marriages was not given.\nJimmy Sealth, no relation of the old chief, who besides being chief of\npolice, was sheriff, prosecuting attorney, judge and general factotum\non the reservation, has been married two or three times and buried two\nchildren by his first wife. In one little family plot in the reservation\nchurchyard 23 graves were counted side by side. The dead are not alone\nburied side by side\u2014they are piled in one on top of another in many\ncases, although there is a waste of wilderness on every side of the\nburying ground.\n\nDisease has fallen with a heavy hand upon the allied tribes, but even\nin the memory of the first white man superstition has done almost as\nmuch in the labor of thinning out the population. Graves there are at\nthe Old-Man-House that have been wet with the blood of human sacrifice\nwithin the memory of their great Ta-mahn-a-wis, William Deshaw. One man\nthere is on the Old-Man-House reservation who has slain 11 children in\nthe practice of their Skal-lal-a-toot, or hoodooism, and whose blood\nsaturated the tomb of their hy-as-tyees.\n\nSuch in a few words is the rather sympathetic story of a people who\nhereabouts were the first in the land. A people whose Ta-mahn-a-wis men,\nor great medicine men, foretold the coming of the white people days and\ndays before the Indians themselves saw the ships of Vancouver sailing\nfrom out the heavy cloud banks and high up in the air, for from such\na source did the three ships appear to the simple natives as told now\nin some of their traditions. The Old-Man-House, or Port Madison Indian\nreservation lies about 15 miles northwest of Seattle and not far from the\nPort Madison mills, one of the big lumber camps of Puget Sound, now idle\nand almost tenantless, a result as much probably of extensive litigation\nas anything else. It is a mill town owned exclusively by the mill\ncompany, which furnishes all the employment of the place to its 300 or\n400 inhabitants when the mill is busy. Now that there is nothing to do in\nthe mill there is no occasion for remaining there and the mill men with\ntheir families have moved elsewhere and the rows of pretty whitewashed\ncottages are empty and voiceless.\n\nThe mill property is situated in a pretty little bight of the Sound,\nonce a favorite nook of the Indians, hid away from view until one is\nright upon it. It is located nearly at the northernmost end of Bainbridge\nisland, and the mill town at one time besides supporting a considerable\nmill population, was the county seat of Kitsap county. But during a few\nyears past, however, the most officious and omnipresent individual over\nthere was the court\u2019s officer, who held the keys to the mill and looked\nafter the property for the court pending final adjudication of the case\non behalf of all litigants.\n\nThe Indian reservation lies about three miles distant from the mill and\nseparated from it by Agate passage, a narrow thread of water 900 feet\nacross at half tide.\n\nThe way over to the reservation is nothing more than a narrow trail\nhewn out of the woods a few feet up from the beach, and was apparently\nfirst cut by the men who strung the old Puget Sound telegraph and cable\ncompany\u2019s wire to the lower Sound.\n\n[Illustration: GRAND POTLATCH\u2014OLD-MAN-HOUSE.]\n\nAt the extreme limit of Bainbridge island is Agate point and directly\nacross, the reservation. On the point is the old trading store of\nWilliam Deshaw, first started in the early sixties, and has been a\ntrading store ever since. Deshaw has been left in undisturbed possession\never since and there he is to-day, probably his only accumulation being\nhis now motherless but happy family of half-breed boys and girls.\nEvery nook and corner hereabouts appears remindful of the musty past,\neverything is interesting to look upon or ruminate over. Deshaw\u2019s old\ntrading store is a museum of antiquities, and its restless, gray-haired\nand slippered proprietor is the one living specimen and most interesting\nof all there is on exhibition. Sixty years old, yet he is apparently as\nfull of vitality as he ever was. There is just as much fire in his small\ngray eyes and as much of a spring in the step as there was when he was\ntaking the scalp-locks of the bloodthirsty Comanche and Apaches.\n\nThe old gentleman hearing our approach one Wednesday morning came\nshambling out onto his front porch and was soon in the midst of an\ninteresting talk on the Indians with whom for so long he has been\nassociated. Although the better part of his life he has spent among the\ntribes that first held possession of the wooded shores of the Sound here,\nhe is by no means an Indian lover, especially of the renegade set which\nnow has possession of Old-Man-House village. He has without doubt during\nthe last 25 years talked twice as much Chinook and pure Siwash as English\nyet he uses the strongest expletives of the English tongue in speaking of\nhis present Indian neighbors. \u201cLo, the poor Indian,\u201d finds no sympathy in\nhis breast. He thinks it a great pity that 14,800 acres of land should be\nkept exclusively for a few shiftless and unworthy Indians to live upon it\nto the exclusion of the white people, and so it appears. They have had\nthese lands for generations yet there is just the narrowest border of\nclearing along the waters that bears any resemblance to cultivation, and\nthat for the most part is due to the labor of a few white men rather than\nto the Indians.\n\n\u201cThey never would work,\u201d says Deshaw, \u201cand never will. Kindness is wasted\nupon them; every kind act done them is returned with an injury.\u201d\n\nProbably the otherwise kind-hearted old man would not talk so but for\nthe fact that the old Indians, those who gave allegiance to old Chief\nSealth, have all been crowded out and either dead or driven away and\nbecome lost in other tribes by renegade Indians. These last are \u201ccultus\u201d\npeople, who have been run out of and off other reservations and becoming\nwanderers and veritable Indian tramps have at last found a stopping place\nat Old-Man-House.\n\nDeshaw says there are about 60 inhabitants on the reservation, big,\nlittle, old, young and indifferent, but the agent would probably give\na larger number. Of these, he counts but six that are truly men of the\nallied tribes, once ruled by old Chief Sealth. These men are Big John,\nnow chief, Charley Shafton, Charley Uk-a-ton, Charley Ke-ok-uk, one of\nthe two honest Indians on the reservation, according to Deshaw, George\nThle-wah and Jacob Huston, one of the old-time Indians, but a slave.\nNone of these are of the family or descendants of the old chief though\nthe families of Big John and Jacob have always been considered among the\nnobility of the allied tribes. Not even all the six Indians mentioned are\ngood Indians, for Deshaw reckons but five on the reservation who care\nfor a home or make any effort toward providing for their necessities in\nthe way the white men have taught them. They prefer to keep to their old\ncustoms and superstitions; would rather troll for salmon and send their\nklootchmen to dig for clams than plant potatoes or milk a cow. Two or\nthree years without the watchful care of the government and the very few\nwhites who take interest enough to look after them, and they would drift\nback into a barbarism as deep as that of 50 years ago. The government\npays a man to reside upon the reservation in the capacity of Indian\nfarmer to see to it that the men with families and homes do something\ntoward raising gardens and gather the fruit that ripens in the little\norchards. The Indian agent proper does not reside there but anon visits\nthe spot in his official capacity. That personage lives at Tulalip,\nLummi, Old-Man-House reservation, Muk-il-shoot and one other. The present\nIndian farmer, J. Y. Roe, and his wife, have been upon the reservation\na little over a year and are full of sympathy for the wards they watch\nover. They have done much to improve the situation on the reservation and\ngive up all their time and a portion of the small pittance they receive,\n$50 a month, to do the work. Among the improvements in the village on the\nreservation the farmer has accomplished is the building of a new court\nhouse or town hall and \u201cskookum\u201d house, and a number of other things in\nthe way of improvements to the small gardens and orchards.\n\nThe reservation forms a large body of land which ends in a beautiful\npeninsula between Squim bay and the narrows. The site of the reservation\nvillage which is also the site of the famous Old-Man-House, fronts the\nwater on the south in a gentle slope, covered with half grown evergreens\nand the narrowest border of cleared lands set to orchards, flower\ngardens and vegetables. The most conspicuous figure of the village is\nthe Catholic church, a perfect little model in its way, and as white and\ngleaming in the sun as a snowy peak. It will bear the utmost scrutiny for\nit is just the same in or out, far or near. By far the most interesting\nthing to be found there at this day is the relic of the Old-Man-House,\nwhich can just be made out from the porch of the old trading store on\nthe opposite side of the bay. It is down close to the water\u2019s edge and\nabout midway in the little clearing. But how can one be expected to glean\nanything from its past and old associations without the presence of the\nbig Tah-mahn-a-wis man along. So Mr. Deshaw shambled away after his big,\nrusty key, locks up his store and goes off for a whole day with us,\nperfectly unconcerned as to the propriety of good business methods.\n\nAt the waters\u2019s edge on the reservation side of the narrows lives the\nIndian farmer, a sub-agent, and his spouse, a very easy-going, plodding,\npleasant natured old couple. Old-Man-House is usually as serene and quiet\nas a Sabbath day, in fact every day is a Sunday in this respect.\n\nThere is a school, but no business, no nothing but what would prove\nto a white person a monotonous and unbearable existence. There is one\nirregular and vagrant looking street connecting with a little beaten\ntrail that leads to the cemetery on the hill. Here is the populous part\nof the village. We lead the way into the inclosure and through the\nwindings between the thickly made mounds, a large portion of which have\na little emblem of the crucifixion raised above them. The old Texan\nwith us has known, in their day, most of the Indians who are sleeping\nthe last quiet sleep here and hesitates not to indicate who were the\ncultus and who were the good Indians. \u201cThat fellow,\u201d he would say, \u201cwas\nas big a rascal as ever lived,\u201d or of another, \u201che was a good Indian\nand a hard worker.\u201d Directly he leads the way up near the north side of\nthe inclosure where a large marble monument marks the resting place of\nsome big tyee. There are a dozen small mounds in the same little plot\nand ranged on either side of it, but the only inscription is on the big\nmonument and it reads:\n\n SEATTLE\n\n Chief of the Suquamps and allied tribes\n Died June 7, 1866\n The firm friend of the whites, and for him\n the city of Seattle was named by\n its founders\n\nOn the reverse is inscribed the following:\n\n Baptismal name, Noah Sealth. Age probably\n 80 years.\n\nThat is the only bit of history there is about or on the monument. The\nlittle plot is not enclosed, and the weeds have full possession. The\ndozen or more graves in the same plot are of the family of the old chief,\nbut the Texan fails now to call them by name. He however takes exception\nto the inscription as being incorrect, and in part superfluous. He\nobjects to the name Sealth or Seattle, but says the Indian pronunciation\nwas as near Se-at-tlee as the English language can reproduce it. The word\nSealth, says Deshaw, was the translation of the old settlers who lived\non Elliott bay. The old chief himself spoke the name for him a thousand\ntimes or more as given above, as did the people of the Old-Man-House. The\nIndians never knew the old chief by the name of Noah, that word being\nused probably but once, and that at the time of his baptism into the\nCatholic faith.\n\nThere are graves of other old-time chiefs in the little churchyard,\nthe most conspicuous one being that of Alex. George, whose little\nmonument is surrounded by twenty-two other graves, all enclosed in a neat\nwhite-washed picket fence. They are all of the immediate family of the\ndead chieftain.\n\nOn the way back to the village we stop and inspect the garden and orchard\nof the boss gardener of the Indians, John Kettle. Besides himself and\nwife, he has about a score of dogs of every hair and color, which set up\na perfect pandemonium as we approach. Kettle is one of the old slaves,\na Clayoquot sound, or West coast Indian, who was sold to a chief of the\nallied tribes when a boy by some other tribe who had captured him and\nbrought him into the Sound country. Kettle seemed pleased at the interest\nshown his garden and orchard and said he had 160 acres of fine land, and\nsome day would be a rich Indian.\n\n[Illustration: THE OLD-MAN-HOUSE VILLAGE AS IT APPEARS TO-DAY]\n\nKettle when brought into the allied tribes\u2019 camp could not speak a\nword of their language nor could they understand him. He was almost\nstarved. The old chief who bought him was with the family eating from a\nbig kettle of roasted or boiled clams. When Siwash and Chinook failed,\nthe old chief motioned to his slave to eat clams. John didn\u2019t wait for\na second bidding, and soon finished the kettle of clams. Then another\nkettle filled with the bivalves was prepared for him. John had heard the\nIndians speak the word kettle several times when dipping into the pot\nand he took the word to mean clams. So John began to call out as best he\ncould,\u201ckettle, kettle.\u201d \u201cUmph,\u201d cried the old chief in Siwash, \u201che wants\nmore clams. I have it, that will be his name, John Kettle,\u201d and from that\nday to this the new slave was called John Kettle. The fellow is not over\n35 years old, but his wife, who has been married five or six times and\nhad a cultus husband every time, and who has been beaten all through her\nlife, looks as if she might be John Kettle\u2019s grandmother instead of his\nspouse.\n\nThe first \u201cBoston\u201d house built on the reservation is still standing and\noccupied by one of the chief men of the village. It was built entirely\nat the expense of William Deshaw as his first free offering towards a\nreform in the mode of life of the Old-Man-House Indians. This was a\nreform very much desired by the government at that time, but towards the\naccomplishment of which it did very little according to Mr. Deshaw.\n\nThe Old-Man-House agency was, according to this authority, very much\nof a sinecure to the early agents, a half dozen of whom he thinks,\nprobably never set foot on the agency. Deshaw for several years acted as\na sub-agent for these appointees and virtually had the say in everything\nat Old-Man-House or that concerned the allied tribes. He got to be such\na trusted lieutenant that he would be intrusted with large sums of money\nto spend for the Indians and at one time had $18,000 which the government\ngave him and with which he bought supplies in Portland. This was during\nthe incumbency of the late George D. Hill of Seattle as Indian agent.\nHillory Butler of Seattle was another agent for whom Mr. Deshaw looked\nafter things at Old-Man-House.\n\nThe first great duty with which the government charged Mr. Deshaw was\nthe breaking up of the Old-Man-House and the isolation of the 600\nor 800 Indians in separate households with the idea of inculcating\ncivilized ideas of living. It was a hard task and one fraught with many\ndisappointments before it was accomplished. The Indians were a curious\nlot. To-day they were your friends; to-morrow they were ready to plug you\nfull of lead from an old Hudsons bay company\u2019s musket. Finally he got one\nor two to make the first attempts at separate residence and by degrees\ngot them all out of the building and ruined it from further inhabitancy.\nBut in almost every instance the Indians wanted the work all done by the\nsub-agent and refused to lend a hand themselves.\n\nOld Chief Sealth was a great power at Old-Man-House and lived for several\nyears after Mr. Deshaw went among them. He became very friendly with the\nsub-agent and accepted his advice in everything and tried to make his\npeople live up to the orders of the great father at Washington City.\nAccording to Deshaw, the old chief was greatly reverenced and to as great\ndegree feared by the Indians. Sealth gave all the assistance in his\npower to Deshaw in an effort to break up the heathenish practices of the\nTa-mahn a-wis men and destroy the superstition of their scal-al-a-toots,\nbut these evils were never eradicated and to this day, but for the\nridicule cast upon them by the whites, thy would still practice them\nopenly.\n\nThe habit of burying their dead in trees and elevated places was in vogue\nlong after Deshaw went among them, but was never done openly or with the\nconsent of the old chief. Even the baneful practice of slaying the dead\nchief\u2019s horse or dog and his slaves on the grave was religiously carried\nout for several years after Deshaw\u2019s appearance whenever the Indians\ncould do it with safety.\n\nDeshaw tells of one prominent Indian now living on the reservation,\nHuston, who was a slave at that time and who was with his klootchman and\nhis little daughter doomed to suffer death on the grave of their master,\nChief Ska-ga-ti-quis. Huston got wind of what the Indians were about to\nattempt and, with his klootchman and 12-year-old girl, slipped away in\na canoe to the other side of the narrows and took refuge in Deshaw\u2019s\ntrading store. Seventeen big and brawny bucks with Hudsons bay company\nmuskets followed the refugees over and stormed the store. They rushed in\nclamorous and gesticulating and swinging their guns, and demanded their\nprisoners, saying they were going to kill them over Ska-ga-ti-quis\u2019\ngrave. The prisoners were hid away in a little side building. Deshaw\nbegan parleying with the blood-thirsty fellows and directly several of\nthem carelessly lay their guns on the counter. Deshaw, without attracting\nattention, moved up close to them and quickly pulled the guns over and\nallowed them to fall on the floor back of the counter. Almost at the same\ntime old Chief Sealth, who had heard of the trouble at the store, quickly\ngot into a canoe, paddled across and went rushing into the store. The old\nchief possessed a powerful voice and herculean strength.\n\n\u201cWhoo, whoo, do I hear; what do I hear,\u201d he cried several tunes upon his\nentry, but the Indians began falling back and said never a word. Then the\nold chief\u2019s little grand-daughter, one of Mr. Deshaw\u2019s daughters, yet\nliving, went up to the old gray head and in her Indian and childish way\nsaid, \u201cGrandpa, they are going to kill the Hustons over Ska-ga-ti-quis\u2019\ngrave.\u201d\n\nThen, \u201cwhoo, whoo,\u201d puffed the old chief, and grabbing up a musket,\nprepared to slay every Indian in sight, but the Indians knew the old\nfellow\u2019s temper too well and shot out of the doorway in a twinkling, and\nwent pell-mell into the water and scrambled into their canoes. The old\nchief rushing after them grabbed up a big cedar rail, after dropping the\ngun (it was entirely too light for him), and tried to reach them with\nthat, but they got away and across back to the village. The old chief\nkept right after them, and once on his own side called the whole village\ntogether and made the people a speech.\n\nHe could be heard distinctly on the opposite side of the channel\nharanguing them on the evil of killing their slaves.\n\n\u201cMr. Deshaw, the big white medicine, did not want it done, Governor\nStevens did not want it, Colonel Simmons did not want it, and the great\nchief at Washington City did not want it, and it must stop.\u201d Such was the\nspeech, as now remembered and translated by one of those most interested\nin the occurrence. The speech seemed to have a good effect, at least for\nthe time. Guards were placed over the Hustons, and they remained out of\nsight for a week or more, and no attempt was again made to take and kill\nthem in so barbarous a way.\n\nUntil quite recently several very aged Siwash resided at the\nOld-Man-House reservation. There was Jacob, aged about 75 years, a\ngrandson of the old Chief Kitsap; old man Williams, aged about 85;\nWilliam Kitsap, grandson Of old Chief Kitsap, and H. S. Alfred, both\neducated Indians. Old William\u2019s daughter married a Kitsap county pioneer\nwho as the years went by grew rich and prominent and his half-breed\nprogeny promise to become honorary and intelligent members of society.\n\nWhen old Williams was a boy his people were very numerous and happy,\nand dwelt on the borders of the salt water from Vashon island to Port\nTownsend On the beach in front of Tsu-Suc-Cub, were drawn up at all times\nhundreds of canoes, so many that all the beach was covered with them.\nMany thousands of Indians gathered and lived in the big Tsu-Suc-Cub, and\nthe country round about it. There were so many that chiefs Sealth and\nKitsap were very big Indians, and were not afraid of any warlike tribes.\nSealth the first, and Chief Kitsap once headed an expedition against\nthe Cape Flattery and Victoria Indians, but this was at so early a date\nthat William himself was too young to take part. His father was a brave\nand helped fight the enemy. At the head of great numbers of war canoes\nthey raided the villages of the tribes on both sides of the straits, and\nat Victoria harbor a great battle was fought. The older Chief Sealth,\nor as he is sometimes spoken of, Sealth the First, it was said could\ndrive an arrow through the side of the biggest canoe, and his strength\nwas most wonderful. This expedition was an epoch in the Indian history\nof the Puget Sound natives. It was successful and the raids that had\nannually been made by the tribes from the north on the southern Indians\nof the Sound ceased, and it was due to the bravery of the two chiefs\nSealth First and Second, that it was so. To the latter was due the\nglory of patting a stop to the invasions of Puget Sound Indians by the\ntribes east of the mountains. Sealth the Second, he for whom the city of\nSeattle was named, exercised late in his life so powerful an influence\nover near-by tribes that he was able to consolidate six tribes into one,\nwhich took the name of Duwamish or the allied tribes. He was an orator;\nan arbitrator rather than a great warrior, and with the exception perhaps\nof a great campaign to head off the invading Indians from east of the\nmountains which he executed at one time most successfully, never was\nengaged in any great battle. Not only was that affair well planned, but\nit proved a great and decisive battle. No whites were living on Puget\nSound at the time. There are no recorded facts regarding it. It was told\nby the father to the son, and was one of the cherished memories which the\nwhites first heard when they arrived.\n\nOld Williams was asked who did the carving on the totems and why no work\nof the kind had been done since the whites came among them. The old\nfellow said that long ago there were many skilled carvers of totems and\nfine canoe builders and their implements were made from flints, agates\nand elk horn, fashioned into the shape of rude hatchets and knives.\nMany, many years before, while the old Indian was but a little boy,\none of the chiefs of that day secured a piece of iron or steel from a\nSpanish trader, and for years after this piece of iron was turned to\ngood account by the canoe builders in the tribes in making their canoes.\nBefore the year 1800, or about that time, as arrived at by computing the\ntime given in his aboriginal way by old William, only horn and agate\nhatchets and shell instruments were used in the work of totem carving or\ncanoe building. These rude instruments were fastened on to rude handles\nwound around and bound around, and were deftly handled in carving and\nfashioning the softer woods as alder and maple into totems, canoes or\nbows and arrows.\n\nThen came Vancouver, and from him old Kitsap procured a good supply of\nknives and iron which for fifty years after were used and in the keeping\nof the tribesmen, replacing the older instruments of their ancestors.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX\n\nTHE TWANA OR SKOKOMISH TRIBE\n\n\nIn the days and generations past, when the Indians were the only\npeople who occupied the shores of Puget Sound, the Twana tribe, now\nthe Skokomish, lived in the broad strip of territory bordering on the\nwest side of Hood\u2019s canal and extending back to the top of the Olympic\nmountains and reaching from the Skokomish river on the south to Quilcene,\nnear Port Townsend, on the north. They had for neighbors on the south\nand east the Squaxon tribe, while near them on the north and northwest\nwere the Clallams and Ma-kahs. On the west were the Quillayutes and\nQuiniaults, but as the high mountains intervened there was not much\nintercourse in that direction, either in peace or war. The Twanas\napparently much preferred peace to war and happiness on their own hunting\nand fishing grounds to pillage and robbery, for there are no old-time\nbattle grounds pointed out now as having been once the scene of great\ncarnage among them. However, they were Indians and as remarkable for\ntheir extreme and foolish superstitions and baneful practices as any on\nthe Sound.\n\nThey possessed a fine country, especially the beautiful valley of the\nSkokomish river, which today is one of the prettiest places in the state.\nWhen the government made a treaty with these Indians and took most of\ntheir land away from them it left them the best section of all their\nterritory for a permanent home. That was the ground at the mouth of the\nriver on the north bank. Here resides the remnant of the Twanas, which,\nhowever, is composed of the blood of three former tribes, the Skokomish\nproper, Quilcenes and Duhl-ay-lips, the head Indian agent for whom is\nstationed at the beautiful agency of Tulalip on the east side of the\nSound.\n\nThere are about 200 of these mongrel Indians now living on the\nreservation of 5,997 acres at the mouth of the river. Twenty years ago\nthere were but about 250 of them, so that the decrease in population has\nbeen comparatively very small. In 1880 a census taken that year showed\n237 Indians. In 1890, ten years from that time, there had been 100 deaths\non the reservation, but the increase in population from birth alone was\nsuch that the real decrease was not more than fifteen persons. There is\nlittle if any increase to the population from people settling there from\nother tribes. This showing is better than that of any Indian tribe on the\nSound, and is undoubtedly due to the isolation on the west side of the\ncanal and removal from the contaminating influence of worthless white\npeople. One beneficial effect of late years, really for the past thirty\nor forty years, has been the example of a few good farmers who settled in\nthe fine valley of the Skokomish. Then to, they have always been blessed\nwith good Indian agents, which cannot be said to have been always the\ncase at many other reservations. The Indians generally nowadays work well\nand want to work and make good lumbermen in the logging camps, earning\nalmost as much as the white men when the camps are going.\n\nThe Indian lands are patented to him but are owned in severalty and\nthere are many creditable places at Skokomish. There is assigned to a\nsingle Indian from 80 to 170 acres according to whether the land may be\nall valley or partially hills. No matter how much or how little land an\nIndian may possess, he seldom, if ever, gets beyond the point of a small\ntruck farmer. If he happens to get under cultivation an area that would\nby a stretch of the imagination take the name of a field, he is most sure\nto let out the land to a white farmer on an annual cash basis. There are\na few such cultivated fields at Skokomish. A farmer, whether Indian or\nwhite, whose insane desire for gambling will lead him to spend a whole\nnight out in the woods chanting the monotonous song of the \u201csing-gamble\u201d\npot-latch, at harvest time is not expected to prove a howling success as\na granger.\n\nIn another generation if there are any Twana Indians left they will\nprobably rate as first-class farmers, for the government is progressing\nvery well in the matter of training them. The children attend school\nten months in the year, have good instructors chosen from the whites,\nand the boys have over them a special instructor whose duty it is to\nsee that they work half of every week-day with a view of acquiring\nmethodical and industrious habits. This is abhorrent to the tender Indian\nmind, but as the entire education of the Twana youth is one of the\ncharity undertakings of the government and does not cost the old folks\na cent, they seem to like it and force their youngsters to attend. The\nmaintenance of the schools is kept up by yearly appropriations and could\nbe cut off any time if the government cared to do so. In that case the\nlittle Twana might be permitted to spring up as unconscious of the future\nas the weeds that infest the door-yard and garden patch of every Indian\ndomicile. However, among the Twanas there is already a fair standard\nof rudimentary education acquired, for every Indian below 30 years of\nage can read and write English, and all under 40 can talk the language.\nThe true specimens of the savage ancestors are the old men and women\nyet living, who cannot, rather will not, admit to any knowledge of the\nEnglish.\n\nThe Indian here is an obdurate, slow-moving being. He will begin a thing\nbut complete it in a year, or ten years, or never, just as the notion\ntakes him. At this time the residents have in mind the construction of a\nnew church. They have gone so far in the undertaking as to have secured\nthe lumber and floated it from the mill up the river and piled it upon\nthe bank of the stream on the reservation.\n\n\u201cWe got it long time ago,\u201d said one fellow, \u201cto build a new church, but\ndon\u2019t know whether we will ever build it or not.\u201d\n\nThe vicinity of the old lumber pile now seems to be a favorite rendesvous\nfor the inveterate \u201csing-gamble\u201d players, for they ride there from all\ndirections at night time. They light camp fires and, forming a large\ncircle around it, go through their uncanny practices until the cocks crow\nfor morning. All the male population of the reservation over age are\nvoters under the constitution of the United States. They cast their first\nvote at the election for delegates to the state constitutional convention\nafter the passage by Congress of the enabling act. The reservation has\nbeen set off in a precinct by itself, and by this the Indians elect their\nown justices of the peace and petty officers without the interference of\nthe whites and without having anything to do themselves with the election\nof officers to govern the white people.\n\nIn the very nature of things the Chinook and mother tongues will, in\na few years more, be unknown on the reservation. So rapidly is this\ncoming about that at this time half the conversation of the reservation\nis carried on in English, even when all engaged in it are Indians. At\ntheir sing-gamble and other Indian ceremonies English is as much spoken\nas their own tongue. Superstition will only die out of the Indian mind\nwhen the last of the race as dead and gone. On the banks of the lovely\nSkokomish it would seem that superstition could have no abiding place.\nYet it is there today as it probably has been in all the past thousands\nof years. The beneficent influence of the white man\u2019s religion has\nsuperceded it in its outer and practical application, it is only a few\nyears ago when the efficacy of the red and black \u201cta-mahn-a-wis\u201d was\nthought to be greater than all the religions of the pale faces in the\nworld.\n\nThere were four kinds of ta-mahn-a-wis, sometimes spelled ta-mahn-o-us,\nor spirit practices in vogue among the Twanas as there were among the\ngreat family of Selish Indians in Washington, which included most all,\nbut not all, the tribes from the Spokane river to Cape Flattery, all\nunderstanding in part a common language. The Cape Indians and Yakimas\nare two of the exceptions to the above, according to some of the best\ninformed men on the subject. The word ta-mahn-a-wis may be and was used\nin the sense of a noun, an adjective or a verb. As a noun it means any\nkind of a spirit in the spirit world from the Sahg-ha-lie Tyee, or\nsupreme being\u2014sahg-ha-lie meaning greatest, highest, above\u2014to the klail\nta-mahn-a-wis, or devil, literally, black spirit.\n\nAs an adjective a ta-mahn-a-wis stick, stone, person, etc., is a thing\nor individual with a ta-mahn-a-wis or spirit either of good or evil in\nit. As a verb it is used in the sense of invoking the aid of spirits, as\n\u201cmah-mok ta-mahn-a-wis.\u201d\n\nThe four kinds of ta-mahn-a-wis of the Indians of the Twana tribe at\nleast are: The \u201cta-mahn-a-wis over the sick,\u201d the incantations of the\nmedicine men; the \u201cred ta-mahn-a-wis,\u201d the \u201cblack ta-mahn-a-wis,\u201d and the\n\u201cspirit land ta-mahn-a-wis.\u201d\n\nThe sick ta-mahn-a-wis was only practiced for the healing of the sick,\nand was often a severe and taxing ordeal for the patient if he were\nreally sick. This ceremony was always conducted by the ta-mahn-a-wis men\nassisted by the friends and relatives of the sick in an effort to drive\nout the spirit of one that was supposed to have taken possession of the\nbody of the sick.\n\nThe red ta-mahn-a-wis was a winter pastime and was a common arrangement,\na proceeding, so far as its being a part of a religious belief, a kind\nof a camp-meeting. The red, or pill ta-mahn-a-wis, was an assembling\ntogether, an invocation, in short, of the spirits for a good season the\nfollowing summer. It generally lasted three or four days and consisted\nof singing, dancing, the beating of tom-toms, drums and the decoration\nof the face and limbs and body invariably with streaks and spots of red\npaint. From this it was given the name of the red ta-mahn-a-wis, pill\nmeaning red.\n\nThe black, or klail ta-mahn-a-wis, was the free masonry of the Twanas\nand was without doubt the one great religion of all religious practices\namong them. It was a secret society to a very large extent, and none\nbut the initiated were ever permitted to have anything to do with it.\nIt was a very severe initiation that candidates had to undergo to get\nacquainted with it, and little was ever learned of its mysteries by the\nwhites. It was practiced at Skokomish as late as 1876, but after that\ntime it was never seen. At that time it was given out by the participants\nthat it was to be dead after that. It is said that it is still slightly\nfollowed by the Clallam Indians to this day. No doubt but that among the\nresidents of the Skokomish reservation there are many Indians who were\ninitiated into its dreadful mysteries, but their number is probably too\nfew to revive it. Both men and women were initiated into the practice and\nmysteries of the black ta-mahn-a-wis. The significance of this ceremony,\nfrom the secretiveness of the Indians, was never clearly learned by the\nold residents, who had most to do with the Indians, and it probably will\nnever be understood, at least as it was believed in by the various tribes.\n\nIn the practice of it, however, the Indians invariably painted themselves\nvery hideously with black paint, daubing and streaking the face and\nlimbs, and while going through the ceremony of initiation were without\nclothing. Masks made in rude imitation of the wolf head were used, and\nthese were called shway-at-sho-sin. The mask was adopted by the Twanas\nfrom the Clallam tribe, as was the name and hence the word is the same\nin both languages. The Twanas seem to have imported their masks from the\nClallam country in most part, very few of their own make having ever been\nfound, and these of a less degree of artistic appearance. To a certain\nextent the ceremony of the black ta-mahn-a-wis was a public one and many\nof the old-timers have witnessed that portion of it. The more important\nand probably much more severe part was the private ceremony confined\nto the initiated. The public ceremony was a long drawn out affair of\ndancing, singing, beating of drums and tom-toms, rattles, etc. During\nthe progress of the affair the candidates for whose special benefit the\nta-mahn-a-wis was given, were stripped and painted and put through all\nmanner of gyrations and exercises, the while wearing the wolf mask,\nthat in the least resemble the antics of the animals they were trying\nto imitate. While this was going on the candidates were tied about the\nmiddle with a long rope, the loose end of which was held by other Indians\nin order to keep the candidate from running away or from doing harm\nto any spectator, for he was supposed to do just like a ferocious and\nenraged wolf in all things. The other exercises which are supposed to put\non the finishing touches to the great event, were always carried on in\nsecret rooms made of their blankets or tents and were never permitted to\nbe witnessed.\n\nThe practice of the spirit land ta-mahn-a-wis was associated with or\nfounded on a very pretty myth believed in by the old Twanas to the effect\nthat a year or two perhaps before an Indian died he or she lost his or\nher spirit. Spirits from other places, always from below, would visit\nthe Indian and, quite unaware to the person would take and carry off\nthe spirit and sail with it to their abiding place, there to hold it in\ncaptivity unless released by spirits from this life. Whenever an Indian\nlost his spirit in this way there would always be a little left him\nwhich would be sufficient to last him until he died, by which time every\nparticle of it was absorbed, vanished, gone. To elaborate the fanciful\ntheory, there were always living Indians who professed to be able to go\nto the spirit land, down below, and see what was going on and recognize\nspirits taken from Indians of his own tribe and village. These trips may\nbe made to the spirit regions at the will of the Indians, sometimes when\noff in the hills hunting, or when out on the salt water chasing the whale\nor the seal. After a journey of such a character the Indian\u2019s word was\nnever doubted by his tribe\u2019s people, when he on returning informed them\nthat he had been on a journey below and had seen the captured spirits of\nthis or that relative or friend. The next question was as to the recovery\nof the spirit, and there were always willing hands ready to assist.\n\nThere was always great ceremony, great care and at times extreme caution\nto be maintained in this undertaking. The Indians had to make the journey\ndown below, cross their death river, their river Styx, and perform\nvarious other and wonderful feats, the entire ceremony lasting three or\nfour days.\n\nThe first ceremony, accompanied by a great beating of drums, of rattles,\ntom-toms, dancing, singing, chanting and yelling, is that of breaking the\nground to effect an entrance below. This was done by digging a little\nhole in the dirt floor of the house where the ceremony was taking place.\nThis accomplished, other mythical performances were gone through with,\nthe more important one being \u201ccooning\u201d across the Styx river in a long\nprocession, where the greatest caution was observed, for the warrior\nwho should fall off while going over was doomed to die before long. A\nbridge was constructed of boards in the house by having two of the boards\nresting obliquely against the ends of a third board, which is elevated\nto near the roof of the building. The army on the chase for the lost\nspirit \u201ccooned it\u201d across this improvised bridge, and were then over the\nriver Styx into spirit land. They searched for and with great noise and\nhubbub found the departed spirit, took possession of it amidst a great\nand imaginary battle, and returned to the land of the living. They would\ntear about the room during this performance, rant and roar, run out of\nand around the house, tear the roof off in their frenzy, which was truly\na genuine article, and then, after having reached the limit of their\nstrength and exertion, would find the spirit, sometimes in the form of a\nrag doll or some other object just as ridiculous, and carry it in triumph\nto the Indian who had lost his spirit. This individual, so fortunate in\nrecovering his spirit, and therefore a new lease of life, is overjoyed\nat the thought and laughs and cries alternately, and concluded the\nperformance by a great manifestation of joy in every conceivable style.\n\nAt this ceremony the Indians had an idol which exercised a great power,\nin their overwrought imaginations, in the success of the undertaking.\nThis idol was a very sacred being, and was always kept hid away in the\nmountains and never brought out only on such ceremonies. It was never\ngiven up to the whites, and there is probably not now one of these\nstrange things to be found anywhere. The only one known to have been seen\namong the Twana tribe was about four feet long, of very rude carving, in\nimitation of a person without arms or feet. In place of feet the idol\nended in a stick, so made that it could be fastened firmly in the ground.\nIt was raised in the center of the room, and around it the weird and\nuncanny ceremony progressed. This idol the Indians named Sh-but-ta-dahk,\nbut just what its peculiar properties were probably is not known.\n\nSeveral of the more intelligent and younger men on the reservation were\ntalked to about this idol or totem, but they did not know anything about\nits history or supposed properties. One of the men said that about three\nyears ago, while going through the woods about three miles back of the\nreservation, he came across a cache where there were two of these idols\nhid away. They were time-worn and considerably decayed, and as he stated,\nhad \u201cbeen there long, long time.\u201d He placed them under an old tree, but\nnever returned to get them. They had men\u2019s faces carved upon them, and\nwere undoubtedly genuine Sh-but-ta-dahks.\n\nThere is another one about four or five feet long in the possession of\na resident of Lake Cushman, which was found in the woods about ten or\ntwelve miles back of the present reservation. Many, probably all, of the\nIndians of today on the reservation have faith in the Sh-but-ta-dahk and\nthe ceremony of the spiritland, ta-mahn-a-wis. One, in telling about it,\nsaid that not many years ago a spiritland ta-mahn-a-wis was held, when\none of the Indians fell while crossing the death river, and that a short\ntime after he died, hence they knew that the spiritland ta-mahn-a-wis was\ntrue.\n\nThe theory of the medicine ta-mahn-a-wis is that when a person is sick\nsome evil spirit has taken possession of the body, sometimes more than\none evil spirit, and of different kinds. It may be that of a bird or\nbeast, a bear, a panther, wolf, a bluejay or a weasel, or anything\nelse having hair or feather or scale. It was always the duty of the\nta-mahn-a-wis doctors to find out what kind of a spirit had entered the\nbody, and then by incantation and ceremony to drive it out. Some dry\nboard or rail or piece of wood was secured by the friends of the patient\nand placed conveniently near, and on this they would beat with sticks to\nmake as much noise as possible, also bringing into their aid the drum\nand tom-toms or rattles. The medicine man would take a bowl of water\nby the side of the patient, who had been stretched out on a mat on the\nground, and begin his examinations. He would chant in a monotonous way\nand perform various mysterious things about and over the sick person.\nSometimes he would take hold of an arm or a leg and lift apparently with\nall his strength without so much as moving the member in the least. When\nthe din and hubbub would be sufficiently distracting the medicine man\ngenerally discovered what kind of a spirit had taken possession, and was\nable to get hold of it. Often he would raise that part of the person in\nwhich the spirit had secured a place of lodgment, and would douse it in\nthe bowl of water and drown it. At other times he would draw it out of\nthe body by inhaling it in his own lungs, and would then go to the door\nand give a great puff and blow the evil spirit far across the mountains\nor water.\n\nIf, under such a course, the patient did not get well at once, there was,\nof course, other evil spirits in the body which must be gotten rid of,\nand the process would be repeated with minor variations. By and by the\npatient would either get well naturally or die, which ended the matter.\nIn either case, the potent power of the doctor was never questioned.\nThe Indians believed that while the body was in possession of the evil\nspirit, the Indian\u2019s spirit may take its flight to some distant place\ntemporarily. It was part of the duty of the medicine man to locate and\nbring the absent spirit back. This he did by other and mystical processes\nequally as absurd to civilized minds. In one account, which was written\nout by an educated brother of a sick boy at the Skokomish reservation,\nthe departed spirit of the patient was discovered 15 miles distant\nat what the Indians called Du-hub-hub-ai, now called by the whites\nHumi-humi. The evil spirit always took on very curious shapes when drawn\non paper by the Indians for the edification of the whites. They usually\nrepresented very vaguely images of fish, jelly-fish, imaginary beasts,\netc.\n\nThat the Indians of the Skokomish tribe once engaged in war is\nevidenced by the existence of implements of battle now preserved on the\nreservation. Of their war clubs there is one about twelve inches long,\nwhich weighs three and a half pounds. It is a big wedge shaped affair,\nrounded, and recedes sharply to a blunt point. There is a hole drilled\nin the handle end by which it could be suspended from the warrior\u2019s\nwaist with buckskin thongs. This weapon was made, without doubt, by the\nSkokomish or Twana tribe.\n\nAnother war implement and one much more formidable, is a long copper\nclub, two feet long, much in appearance like a broad sword. This club\nalso has a hole in the heavier end, from which to suspend it to the\nwaist. Both weapons have rude imitations of the Thunderbird on their\nheavier ends, and go to show how thoroughly the Thunderbird myth was\nbelieved in and how it pervaded every act and thought of Indian life.\n\nBefore the white people came into the country the Indians had to depend\non their own ingenuity for all kinds of implements. Many of these are\nyet preserved by the Indians themselves, as well as by the whites. The\nIndians are careless, however, and as long as they can get an easy\nliving, don\u2019t seem to care much what becomes of their old tools. They\nhave yet a few of the old war clubs, among them, ta-mahn-a-wis rattles,\nmade out of deer hoofs, bear and beaver teeth, etc. They have a few of\nthe old style bows and arrows, hunting bows, with quivers of arrows to be\nused in the chase or in war. The latter are of a superior workmanship,\nand must have occupied lots of extra time in their manufacture. They have\nfew of the old style dress garments, but have not yet lost the art of\nmanufacture, as they will for money set about and make very interesting\ndresses and coats out of the cedar bark, or from the cat-tail reeds\nthat grow in the swamps or marsh lands. There is yet preserved several\nspecimens of the dress of the nobility, made from the hair of the\nmountain goat, though it is not unlikely that these latter were secured\nin barter from the tribes occupying land on the east side of Puget Sound,\nas the mountain goat is not known to have flourished between Puget Sound\nand the Pacific ocean.\n\n[Illustration: A GUARDIAN SPIRIT TOTEM]\n\nThe Twanas\u2019 and perhaps many of the other Indian tribes\u2019 superstition\nas to the origin of the sun and moon is of more than passing interest.\nA very long while ago there lived an aged Indian woman who had a son.\nHe must have been a bright, uncommon lad, for he was not only stolen\nfrom home, but grew up into a young man possessing wonderful powers.\nThe boy was stolen from the care of his grandmother and carried away to\ndistant parts, beyond the mountains, where if anyone tried to follow,\nthe mountains would come together and crush the life out of them. When\nthe boy\u2019s mother learned he had been stolen she was greatly grieved, and\ndeclared she would find her another son, and so she did. He grew apace\nand became also a bright promising lad. By and by, as the days passed\naway, the first son found his way back through the treacherous mountains\nand surprised his mother when he put in an appearance at home once\nmore. He does not seem to have been pleased at the prospect of finding\nhis place at home taken by a brother, and he at once declared he would\nchange the brother into the moon, and let him rule the world by night,\nwhile he himself would be changed into the sun and govern things by day.\nThis shows that the family to which this ambitious young man belonged\nwas a great family, and probably governed the world before that time in\ndarkness.\n\nThe young man kept his word and wrought the marvelous changes, and it\nmust have occasioned great surprise next morning when the people got up\nand found all the land aglow with light and beauty. But as the sun got up\nhigher, the people doubtless wished for their darkness back again, for\nit got awfully hot. The brother\u2014as the sun\u2014in his great wrath burned so\nfiercely that the heat dried up all the rivers of the country and killed\noff all the fishes, and the people of the land sweltered and died in the\nsuffocating heat that pervaded everything.\n\nThe brother saw that things could not last long in this way, and he\ndecided on a change. So he changed things about, made his weaker and\nyounger brother into the sun and himself into the moon, and this worked\nbetter. Ever since that day there has always been \u201ca man in the moon,\u201d\nand a boy in the sun, but the light of the latter is too strong for the\nboy\u2019s face to be seen.\n\nThe Skal-lal-a-toot was a name applied, it seems, to the stick\nta-mahn-a-wis, or spirits of the woods which are accredited with the\npower to change people into toads, birds, beasts, etc., and keep them as\nlong as they like, or until they see fit to return them to their proper\nform.\n\nPeople there are infected with the evil eye, in the imagination of the\nIndian, and such they always try to avoid\u2014especially so with children,\nand hence a charm in the form of a rattle was always provided to hang\nover the bed or cradle of the child. If a person entered the room and\nmade pleasant with the child, and took the rattle, all well and good.\nIf he avoided the child and rattle and acted suspiciously, look out for\nhim\u2014he was one possessed of the evil eye, and was cultus.\n\n[Illustration: WOLF-MASK\u2014Used in the ceremony of the Black Ta-mahn-a-wis\nby the Skokomish or Twana Indians]\n\nSuch persons were invested, in the Indian mind, with the spirit power,\nand through the influence of this evil eye men and children were wrought\nupon by the Skal-lal-a-toot and changed to various forms of birds,\nbeasts, trees, stones, etc. These evil-eyed geniuses were able to exert\nthis influence for bad to great distances, from the Sound to the Columbia\nriver, and infect individuals there with its baneful influence, the same\nas if they were by their side.\n\nThe Indians used in this connection a mask, which might be called the\ncrying mask, for it seems to have been used as a kind of \u201cWinslow\u2019s\nsoothing syrup\u201d to make the children stop crying. A representation of\none of these masks made out of cedar wood and still in good preservation\nis shown in a sketch herein. The mask is nothing more than a flat\nboard-like piece, longer than the ordinary shingle, with the face cut\ninto it by a series of holes. It was placed in front of the person\u2019s\nface, and the mother or person using it would suddenly appear before the\nchild to be quieted, singing a peculiar monotone song. It was simply a\nrepetition of the word \u201cskal-lay-a, skal-lay-a,\u201d with the last syllable\ndrawn out indefinitely. Doubtless the charm worked well, and such\npractices probably had as much to do with the establishment of the seeds\nof superstition in the infantile mind as any after teaching could have\nhad.\n\nThe Puget Sound Indian generally appears to have been but very slightly\nadvanced in the art of carving and what work that is left is of a very\ncrude workmanship. A few good specimens are found among them but it is\nquestionable if any of them are original. In the illustrations is the\nrude carving of the bear totem on the stem of a canoe found among the\nSkokomish Indians, though the canoe might have come from the northern\nIndians who followed more closely the practice of decoration of the canoe.\n\nIn comparison to this is shown a carving, the figurehead of the old bark\nEnterprise which has lain a wreck on the beach at Agate pass, near the\nOld-Man-House reservation, Port Madison, since some time in the early\n50\u2019s. This figurehead was removed from the old hulk and is now among the\nIndian relics of the old pioneer, William Deshaw. The carving is the work\nof native East Indians, according to the story of the skipper of the old\nbark. He came with his vessel from Calcutta to Puget Sound, and while in\na port of East India went out with the nobility on a tiger hunt. Securing\none, he expressed a desire to have a carving of the head for his vessel\nin honor of the hunt, and by direction of the rajah or some other high\npotentate it was made for him by the natives. It is of teak wood and well\npreserved and hard as flint almost. The figurehead was adorned with large\neyes of pearl which after the old bark was wrecked were removed. When the\ncaptain expressed a desire to have a tiger head like the animal killed,\nthe Indians set to work and in just two weeks had it completed and at the\nvessel when it was put on. A good story was told by William Deshaw on\nMr. Meigs, the mill owner, at the time the old bark fell to pieces while\nlying at the mill wharf. It was a calm day, no wind, but the bark all of\na sudden went to pieces from sheer age. The mizzen mast went by the board\non the very day that Mr. Meigs was in Seattle getting insurance on the\nvessel as he had just about concluded a purchase of her. Meigs returned\nto the mill that evening and seeing the wreck said to her old skipper:\n\u201cWell, I guess you\u2019d better get that old hulk out of here or it will be\ntearing down of my wharf.\u201d They started in to get the old hulk away from\nthe wharf and she was hauled across the narrow stretch of water onto the\nbeach. As the tide went out she careened over and as Deshaw says, \u201cjust\nnaturally wilted away.\u201d The old bark still lies on the beach where she\nwas left twenty-five years or more ago, and the sand has drifted in and\nabout her till it is in places eight and ten feet deep and she is almost\nlost to view.\n\nThe face mask shown in the illustrations herewith, now hangs on the walls\nof Wm. Deshaw\u2019s store at Agate pass and was given him many years ago by\na chief from the straits tribes, and was given with the assurance that\nit was one of the most powerful charms the Indians possessed. It was\nparticularly efficacious in keeping off the \u201cevil eye\u201d and all that was\nnecessary to be done was to keep it hung up where everyone who entered\nthe building could see it as he entered. If the person entering was\npossessed of the evil eye, after seeing it he would be powerless to do\nany evil.\n\n[Illustration: WOLF-MASK\u2014Made by Skokomish Indians, now in possession of\nRev. Myron Eels]\n\nDeshaw had performed a great kindness for the Indian, and had won his\neverlasting gratitude. The Indian had no money, nor could money have\nbought the charmed mask, but he gave it up in return for the kindness of\nsaving his daughter\u2019s life.\n\nOne day a band of the Indians had come up sound and camped on the beach\nat the reservation for a few days. While there an Indian daughter of\nthe chief got sick and a terrible hubbub was raised by the Indians in\ntheir efforts to drive away the evil eye that had fallen upon her. The\nmedicine men exhausted all their powers and could not bring her around.\nDeshaw went across the passage to see what all the noise was about and\nfound the girl stripped and lying on a mat on the beach with the medicine\nmen beating her body with hot rocks. Blood was oozing from her ears and\nnostrils and she was almost dead. He quickly drove the medicine men away,\nhad her wrapped in blankets and carried across the water to his trading\npost. Here proper treatment and medicine brought her around and in a day\nor two she was in swimming as lively as any of the other children. Before\nleaving the old chief went to see Deshaw, told him he was poor and had\nno money, but some day would come and give him something. Time passed,\nand when another year had rolled around, one day there walked into the\ntrading post an Indian with something rolled up under his arm. The bundle\nwas neatly wrapped up in a lot of skins, there being a beaver, marten and\nsilver gray fox skin among them. Deshaw had forgotten the circumstance of\nthe sick child and forgotten the man, but thought he had seen him at some\nprevious time. Watching his opportunity, the old chief took the white\nman off to one side and recalled the incident and gave him the mask, and\ntold him what it was and what to do with it. Deshaw followed instructions\nand apparently the mask has served its purpose well. \u201cThe evil eye\u201d has\nremained aloof from the trading post, and it looks as if, like the old\nbark above referred to, it and its genial proprietor will continue to\njog on down Time\u2019s broad way until they fall to pieces together, \u201cjust\nnaturally wilt away.\u201d\n\nThe totem on page 41 was one very efficacious in their superstitions\nregarding children. It was given to Deshaw in 1861 by Charley G\u2019Klobet,\nan Indian of prominence in the early days. It was the guardian spirit of\nchildren before mentioned herein. The medicine men, who were supposed to\nget their powers from it would not part with one of them to save their\nlife, so deep and strong was their superstitious belief in regard to it.\nIn their incantations over it they would kneel before it at night on\nmats spread out, and with their long, greasy hair done up in weird and\nfanciful knots, their face and bodies painted and besmeared with paints,\nrun around it, talking to it, praying to it and caressing it until they,\nin their over-wrought imaginations had imbibed all the information it\npossessed in regard to the children.\n\nThe totem has a long nose, over-hanging brow, two big bead eyes, with\nstreaks of white paint across the face half way between the eyes and\nmouth. There are daubs of blue paint all about the mouth and chin\nand a small streak of blue around the neck. There is a circle on the\nbreast cut with a knife and radiating from the two upper arcs are small\nthree-pronged notches cut in by the same process much resembling a bird\u2019s\nclaw and intended to represent the superstition of the great white eagle,\nfrom which, and a great whale, the Indians there are said to have sprung.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\nDO-KA-BATL, A GREAT SPIRIT\n\n\nThe religion of the Siwash is spiritualism pure and simple. Every tree\nand shrub, beast, bird or fish had its spirit, and every mountain was the\nabode of invisible gods who rode on the winds and clouds.\n\nThe existence of a supreme being or spirit was prevalent in the untutored\nminds of the aboriginal inhabitants of Puget Sound. They believed in it,\nyet never worshiped it, and never made much practical use of this belief.\nThey believed in the devil or a spirit answering to that dreaded, though\ninvisible monster, yet in their simple daily life there were intermediate\nspirits far more potent for good or evil to the minds of these dusky\npeople. They laid strong hold of the power for good of an individual,\nindependent spirit for each and every inhabitant, a sacred, protecting\nstar through life, and no circumstances or conditions seem ever to have\nbeen strong enough to cause a violation of the sacred tenets of that\nreligion. Every Indian possessed a guardian spirit of his own. This was\nsupposed to watch over him, protect him from the evil spirits that filled\nthe woods and the air, and as long as it was kept inviolate was the one\nbeaming, assuring and ever-present guardianship of the Indian life.\n\nWhen of youthful age\u201412 or 13 years\u2014the Siwash would betake themselves to\nthe woods, to an isolation as deep and perfect as that of Elisha in the\ncave in the forest attended by his ministering ravens. There a process of\npurification, almost of sanctification, would be submitted to, continuing\nfrom eight to thirteen days, or as long as the physical powers of the\nIndian could bear up under it. They refrained from eating, and practiced\na self-imposed bodily chastening, until the extreme of physical suffering\nand mental anguish and over-excitement being reached, the Indian mind was\nin a condition to believe anything or see in the solitude about him any\nbeast, bird or spirit the freaks of the overwrought imagination might\nconjure up.\n\nThat settled it. The first object, be that beast or bird, that passed\nbefore his vision and reflected in his diseased mind, was ever after\nsacred to him. The spell was broken and the Indian hied himself away\nto his fellows, happy and ready to stand among his tribe a favored\nindividual. In their hunts and migrations that beast or fowl was never\nmolested by that Indian. Others might kill or conquer, but he, never. It\nfollowed him through life, and was believed to exert a great power for\ngood.\n\nThe traditions, superstitions and fetish practices of the early Indians\nof Skokomish and Old-Man-House as well of the Sound seem to blend and\nintermingle in such a way that it is almost impossible to clearly\ndefine them. Only deep and continued study can avail to get a proper\nunderstanding of them. Of their traditions the greatest seems to have\nbeen that of Do-ka-batl, a great spirit, whose peculiar powers lay in his\nability to change big and little mortals into any kind of a beast, bird\nor stone or thing that his fancy dictated. Under such conditions it could\nnot be otherwise than that very great respect should be shown to this\nmasterful spirit, and respect and reverence for it seems to have been\nrather than fear and trembling.\n\n[Illustration: BOWL AND SPOON OF MOUNTAIN SHEEP HORN\u2014TWANAS]\n\nThe tradition of Do-ka-batl among the Twana or Skokomish Indians is alive\nto-day and they have always maintained that the great spirit was a woman,\nwhile the tribes north of them hold to the belief that it was a man.\n\nAt any rate Do-ka-batl made a great sensation when he or she first took\nit in mind to go abroad among the tribes that infested the Sound. The\ncoming was like a great big cloud that overspread the whole sky. He\ncame up out of the sea, way over in the southwest from the direction of\nthe Gray\u2019s harbor country. It does not appear that Do-ka-batl came with\ngreat noise and tumult, with rattling of thunder, or peal of lightning,\nbut like the great, even tempered spirit that he was; he came like an\nangel of peace to teach the people good things. He found the Twana\nIndian ancestors trying to catch fish in Hood\u2019s canal with their hands.\nDo-ka-batl taught them how to make traps and stretch them across the\nriver and waters and take great quantities of fish, and so the Indians\nafter that had life easy and lived in contentment and with little labor.\n\nThen, it was a very, very long time ago, there were not deer to run the\nwoods, nor humming birds to make music with their little wings, no pretty\nblue jays to go cawing among the trees and a great many other useful and\nornamental things of nature had not any being. Do-ka-batl provided for\nall these, though it must be said that a great many naughty Indians were\nsacrificed in order to bring it about. Their tradition of Do-ka-batl\u2019s\ntransformation of the deer is much like that of many other of the Indian\ntribes.\n\nThe great spirit on his visit came across a worthless fellow one day who\nwas making sharp the edge of a knife, probably a very different affair\nfrom the steel knife of to-day. The great spirit said:\n\n\u201cWhat are you doing there?\u201d This in the Twana dialect, of course.\n\nThe worthless fellow replied, \u201cNothing,\u201d also in Indian.\n\nThe Do-ka-batl replied: \u201cI know what you are doing; you are going to kill\nme. Give me that knife.\u201d\n\nThe Indian was frightened but gave up the knife and turned to run, but\nas he did so the great spirit stuck it in his heel and the Indian began\nto jump about and he has been jumping about ever since in the shape of\na deer, for he was quickly transformed into one as soon as the knife\nentered his heel. The little hoof that sticks out of the deer\u2019s foot just\nabove the two main hoof toes and at the back is the handle of the knife\nthat Do-ka-batl stuck there.\n\nWhile among the Twanas Do-ka-batl came across another fellow flopping his\nhands over his head much like a donkey does his ears when keeping the\ngnats and flies out of his eyes. The Indian, however, was trying to keep\noff the rain. Do-ka-batl thought that a fellow who was afraid of getting\nwet was no good, so he changed him into a humming bird while he was still\nat the foolish pastime, and the Indians say that is why the humming bird\nalways keeps its wings going. The Indian when changed did not stop his\nfoolish flopping of his hands, but kept right on.\n\nOne day, while Do-ka-batl tarried among them they were at their\nta-mahn-a-wis, and one of their medicine men, probably all of them, had\nhis shock of black greasy hair done up in a top-knot on the top of his\nhead. This angered Do-ka-batl and he thought such an Indian would be\nmore useful in the form of a pretty bird, so he changed him into a blue\njay, with his top-knot still tied up on the top of his head. That is why\nthe blue jay wears his hair pompadour. The grating sound of the blue\njay\u2019s voice probably is a reproduction of the medicine man\u2019s song at the\ntime, though this does not form a part of the tradition.\n\nThere is a very pretty tradition among the Indians at the Skokomish\nreservation about the origin of the big marsh lands at the mouth of\nthat river. A vast reed-grown area blocks up the river to-day and it is\na great place for all kinds of water fowl and the like. Cat-tails grow\nthere enough for all the rush mats of the entire Indian population,\nso that while Do-ka-batl under the guise of his wrath made a great\ntransformation that brought lasting good to the red faced people. When\nDo-ka-batl left the Twana village at the mouth of the Skokomish to\ncontinue his journey on down the beautiful shores of the canal his big,\nfoot slipped from under him at the edge of the water and he fell.\n\nThis made him angry and he cursed the ground, and, lo; the water went\naway and a great mass of ground rose up, half sea half land, and so it\nis to this day. The pretty cat-tails and tula grass came up over the\nground and the ducks and geese came and made their nests and gathered the\ntender shoots and leaves of the sea-weed for food. Had it been any other\ngreat spirit than Do-ka-batl he might have placed a curse on the people\nof the Indian village rather than on the ground, but he did not and they\nhave lived and prospered ever since. Though their number is small to-day\nthey have the best gardens and fields and orchards and houses of all the\nIndian people on the Sound. Do-ka-batl continued his journey down the\ncanal after getting upon his feet again and to this day the Indians still\npoint to the marks in the rocks along the beach made by his big feet.\nThere are two big prints a few miles from the beach close to what is now\nHoodsport, which have vague resemblance to a mammoth foot-print, and\nthese the Indians say were made by Do-ka-batl.\n\nTheir traditional story of the deluge is much like that told by some of\nthe eastern tribes, excepting as to canoes which, of course, the Indians\nhere used to ascend to the top of their biggest mountains instead of\ngoing up horse-back.\n\nWith the Twana Indians they did not succeed in getting onto the highest\nmountain, but on one much less in height. The big waters kept creeping\nup the mountain sides and as the Indians had neglected to tie their\ncanoes many of them were swept away and carried down to the mouth of the\nColumbia river, and there the survivors waited until the floods abated,\nand formed another tribe.\n\nSome very long cedar bark canoes remained to the Indians, however.\nDo-ka-batl, or some other good and friendly spirit, however, must have\nbeen about to look after the Twana Indians, for the waters acted as if\nthey were not allowed to engulf the Indians on the lower mountains.\nInstead of presenting a level plane the waters took the position of an\ninclined plane, reaching from the top of the higher mountain which they\nengulfed down to the peak of the lower one, whose top was not covered,\nand so the Indians were saved. These mountains, in the tradition, were\nfar to the northeast or east from the site of the Twana Indian village\nand the Indians traveled a long time in their canoes to reach them.\n\nOne day an Indian lad was going with his gourd for water. The boy or the\nwater he was carrying was making a \u201cchug, chug, chug\u201d noise, that sounded\nmuch like the song of the turtledove nowadays. The Do-ka-batl was near at\nthe time and not liking the noise he transformed the Indian boy into a\ndove and sent him off into the woods to sing away his life in solitude,\nand that is why the song of the turtledove can be heard floating out in\nsummer days from among the green branches and woods of the forests.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n[Illustration: THE GAME OF SING GAMBLE\u2014SKOKOMISH TRIBE.]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI\n\nTHEIR GAME OF SING-GAMBLE\n\n\nThere are still many practices of the early Indians continued through\nthe present generation of half civilized and half-blood descendants. The\nIndian has an inveterate love of gambling. Indeed, the Indian life is\nall a game of chance, so superstitious a being is he. They probably have\ngambled ever since the days of the first Indian. Among the games is that\nof \u201csing-gamble,\u201d which though divested of much of its old-time ceremony,\nis still the great game of chance among them. In its simple form it is\nbut a plain game of guessing with the chances equally for or against the\nplayers. The Indians, however, believe in it with all their soul and\nthey will throw their whole soul into it to-day as they will risk their\nall, horses, dogs, canoes, jewelry, almost their wives and children upon\nits infatuous chances. The preparation and ceremony formerly attendant\nupon it is what gave to the game its great renown. To-day when played\nwith more than a dozen persons it is still a game of great moment. The\nwriter, who recently visited the Skokomish Indians had the pleasure of\nwitnessing a \u201csing-gamble,\u201d which lasted almost an entire night, though\nbut a few took part. The illustration accompanying this story is a good\nrepresentation of the scene, as it is an exact likeness of the half-breed\nand full-blood Indians who participated. Night time, that lends the most\nweirdness, is chosen as the time for the \u201csing-gamble.\u201d\n\nIn brief, a huge fire was built, on either side of which a long board was\nlaid down on a shorter piece, so that they might be said to represent the\nstrings of a violin. The players ranged themselves back of the boards\nin two opposing sides. The gambling paraphernalia consisted of several\nsticks of green alder with the bark peeled off, excepting some that had a\nlittle ring of bark left around the middle of the stick. Counters for the\ngame were secured in the shape of sharpened cedar sticks, which were set\nin the ground on either side of the fire in front of the players. In that\ninstance 30 points constituted the game, though it is often run up to 60.\nPreliminary to the start the bets had to be arranged between the players.\nTwo canoes, a silver watch, two ponies, $1.50 in silver, a coat, a shirt\nand some other things were wagered on the result. This preliminary took\nup a great deal of time and much talking, but was finally adjusted to the\nsatisfaction of all. Then the game began.\n\nTwo of the players on one side selected each two of the alder sticks,\nwhich were about four inches long and an inch in diameter. Each man took\none clean of bark and one with the circle of bark left in the middle,\nthat was the distinguishing mark. The point to be detected by the\nopposing side was which hand held the clean stick or which the one with\nthe bark on it. First the two Indians having the sticks fumbled with them\nunder their shirts, then they brought them forth and the music began,\nall the Indians on that side joining in and at the same time those not\nholding the sticks keeping time by rapping on the board in front of them\nwith long sticks of hard wood. The music, if such it could be called, was\nrapid and vociferous, a kind of sing-song monotone drawling affair, which\nat times changed to something very like a rude melody.\n\nAll this time the two players were swinging their hands at half arm,\nbending at the elbow, in front of them, while they leaned far forward\nwith their bodies, anon at times throwing their heads back and their\nchests out and all the time keeping up that dreadful, unearthly singing.\nOccasionally they would dextrously throw the short sticks in the air,\ncatch them again and slap them under their shirts, bring them forth\nagain, all the time keeping up with the procession of noise and the\nmotions of their bodies.\n\nThe more pandemonium, the more hurrah the harder it was supposed to be\nfor the opponents to guess the proper hand that held the bark-ringed\nstick.\n\nWhenever an opponent made a guess he quickly threw out one hand to arm\u2019s\nlength in a pointing way, while with the other he made a fanning motion\nin a half circle, placing the palm of the hand over the other arm at\nabout the elbow. Practice makes this a very graceful motion. The singing\nand noise ceases and the player opens up his hands. If the other has\nguessed rightly, the two sticks are tossed across the fire and the other\nside takes them up while the men just losing them become the guessers.\nTwo Indians do the playing while two are selected on the other side to\ndo the guessing. Whenever one side makes a point, which consists in a\nfailure of the opponents to guess rightly, they mark it up by sticking\none of the cedar sticks into the ground in front of them. When they lose\nthey pull one out.\n\nThis game lasted from about 9 in the evening until 3 in the morning, and\nbefore it ended the Indians were nearly exhausted from their excessive\nsinging and excited motions. Sweat poured off some of them in streams\nduring the performance, and they divested themselves of everything but\ntrousers and shirt. Some became very hoarse from the singing. Many of\nthem rode to the scene on their ponies from distances of several miles\nand next day it was one of the topics of the reservation.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII\n\nTWANA THUNDERBIRD\n\n\nThe Rev. Myron Eells, who for a score of years has been a missionary\namong the Indians of Puget Sound, has made investigations into the myths\nand traditions of the people among whom he has labored, and has stored up\nmany an interesting story of the Thunderbird superstition. He says:\n\nThe general idea among the Indians is that thunder is caused by an\nimmense bird, whose size darkens the heavens, whose body is the thunder\ncloud, the flapping of whose wings causes the thunder, and the bolts of\nfire, which it sends out of its mouth to kill the whale for its food,\nare the lightning. The Makahs and some other tribes, however, invest the\nanimal with a twofold character, human and bird-like. According to them\nthe being is supposed to be a gigantic Indian, named in the dialects of\nthe various coast tribes Kakaitch, T\u2019hlu-kluts, and Tu-tutsh, the latter\nbeing the Nootkan name. He lives in the highest mountains and his food\nconsists of whales. When he goes after food he puts on a great garment,\nwhich is made of a bird\u2019s head, a pair of very large wings, and a feather\ncovering for his body, and around his waist he ties the lightning fish,\nwhich slightly resembles the sea horse. This animal has a head as sharp\nas a knife, and when he sees a whale he darts the lightning fish into\nits body, which he then seizes and carries to his home. Occasionally,\nhowever, he strikes a tree, and more seldom a man.\n\nThe origin of the bird, according to Mr. Swan, as given by the Chehalis\nand Chinook Indians, is as follows: \u201cAges ago an old man named Too-lux,\nor the south wind, while traveling north, met an old woman named\nQuoots-hooi, who was an ogress or giantess. He asked her for food, when\nshe gave him a net, telling him that she had nothing to eat, and he\nmust go and try to catch some fish. He accordingly dragged the net and\nsucceeded in catching the grampus, or, as the Indians called it, a little\nwhale. This he was about to cut with his knife, when an old woman cried\nout to him to take a sharp shell and not to cut the fish crossways, but\nsplit it down the back. Without giving heed to what she said he cut the\nfish across the side and was about to take off a piece of blubber, but\nthe fish immediately changed into an immense bird, that, when flying,\ncompletely obscured the sun, and the noise made by its wings shook the\nearth.\u201d They also add that this Thunderbird flew to the north and lit\non the top of the Saddleback mountain, near the Columbia river, where\nit laid a nest full of eggs. It was followed by the giantess, who found\nthe eggs; whereupon she began to break and eat them, and from these\nmankind, or at least the Chehalis and Chinook tribes, were produced. The\nThunderbird, called Hahness by those Indians, came back, and, finding\nits nest destroyed, went to Too-lux, the south wind, for redress, but\nneither of them could ever find the ogress, although they regularly went\nnorth every year.\n\n[Illustration: THE THUNDERBIRD MASK\u2014TWANAS]\n\nAs to the cause of thunder among these tribes Mr. Swan says that when\na young girl reaches womanhood she has to go through a process of\npurification, which lasts a month. Among other customs at this time, if\nthere is a southwest wind, with signs of rain, she must on no account go\nout of doors, else the southwest wind is so offended that he will send\nthe Thunderbird, who then, by shaking his wings, causes the thunder, and\nfrom whose eyes go forth the flashes of lightning. As far as Mr. Swan\nknew, every thunder storm which occurred while he lived at Shoalwater Bay\n(three years) was attributed by the Indians to this cause\u2014that is, to\nsome girl disobeying this law.\n\nThe Indians are very superstitious in regard to this bird, believing that\nif they possess any feather, bone or other part of it, or bone of the\nlightning fish, it will be of supernatural advantage to them. A Makah,\nwho had been very sick, was reduced to a skeleton, and it was believed\ncould not recover, yet he managed to crawl one day, says Mr. Swan, to a\nbrook near by, and while there he heard a rustling which so frightened\nhim that he covered his face with his blanket. Peeping out he saw a raven\nnear him, apparently trying to throw up something, and, according to the\nIndian, it did throw up a piece of bone about three inches long. The\nIndian secured this, believing it to be a bone of the Thunderbird, and he\nwas told by the Indian doctors that it was a medicine sent to him by his\nTa-mahn-a-wis, or guardian spirit, to cure him. It was a fact that he did\nrecover very quickly, perhaps through the effect of his imagining it to\nbe such a bone and a strong medicine. It may also have been dropped by\nthe raven.\n\nOn one occasion, at a display of fireworks in Port Townsend, a number\nof rockets bursting showed fiery serpents. These the Indians believed\nbelonged to the Thunderbird, and offered large sums for pieces of the\nanimal. They told Mr. Swan they would give two hundred dollars for a\nbackbone of one.\n\nA Quiniault Indian once professed to have obtained a feather of one of\nthese birds. He said he saw one of them light, and, creeping up softly,\ntied a buckskin string to one of its feathers and fastened the other\nend to a stump. When the bird flew away it left the feather, which was\nforty fathoms long. No other Indian saw it, for he was careful to keep\nit hid, but possession of it was not questioned by the rest, as he was\nvery successful in catching sea otter. According to the Makahs, one of\nthe principal homes of the bird is on a mountain back of Clayoquot, on\nVancouver island, where is a lake, and around it the Indians say are many\nbones of whales which the bird has killed.\n\nMany of the northwestern Indians have a performance in honor of this\nThunderbird, which is called the thunderbird performance or \u201cblack\nta-mahn-a-wis.\u201d It is said to have originated with the Nittinat Indians,\naccording to the following legend, as recorded by Mr. Swan: Two men had\nfallen in love with the same woman, but she would not give either the\npreference, whereupon they began to quarrel. But one of them, of more\nsense than the other, said: \u201cDo not let us fight about that squaw. I\nwill go and see the chief of the wolves and he will tell me what is to\nbe done, but I cannot get to his house except by stratagem. Now, they\nwill know we are at variance; so do you take me by the hair and drag me\nover these sharp rocks, which are covered with barnacles, and I shall\nbleed and pretend to be dead, and the wolves will come and carry me away\nto their house.\u201d This was done, but when the wolves were ready to eat\nhim he jumped up and astonished them by his boldness. The chief wolf was\nso much pleased with his bravery that he taught the man the mysteries\nof the Thunderbird performance. This, the most savage of all the Indian\nceremonies, spread among all the Indians on Puget Sound, as well as to\nthe north, the latter being the most savage in the performance of the\nceremonies. Among other things, the performers hoot like owls, howl like\nwolves, paint their bodies black, especially the face, from which fact,\nin whole or in part, comes the English name \u201cblack tamahnawis;\u201d scarify\ntheir arms, legs and sometimes the body, so as to bleed profusely, in\nremembrance of its origin; they make much noise by firing guns, pound\non drums to represent thunder flash torches of pitchwood about as a\nrepresentation of lightning, and whistle sharply in imitation of the\nwind. The ceremonies, however, vary in different tribes, being much more\nsavage and bloody in some than in others. Among the Makahs five days are\nusually occupied in secret ceremonies, such as initiating candidates and\nother performances, before any public outdoor ceremonies take place.\nAmong the Clallams the candidate for initiation is put into a kind of\nmesmeric sleep, which does not appear to be the case with the Makahs.\nAmong the Clallams, however, the secret ceremonies are not always as long\nas among the Makahs.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII\n\nSUPERSTITION THEIR RELIGION\n\n\nSuperstition was born with the first man, and is about the only thing in\nthe world that remains unchanged today. The more ignorant the people the\ndeeper we find them plunged into the dark maze of the mythical. People of\nhighly civilized nations are not free from this clinging shadow of the\nforgotten or unknown past, and, although they laugh at the idea as being\nrank foolishness, they will feel a little shiver if they are the first\nto cross the track of a funeral, or they will stop and pick up a pin\nwhich points toward them on the sidewalk, not because they need it, but\nbecause\u2014well, just because they want to. Civilized people call this trait\nan eccentricity in themselves and superstition in the savage.\n\nSavages the world over are steeped in superstitious myths, traditions\nand in folk-lore which is peculiar each to its own tribe, or clan, but\nthrough it all there are threads which connect one tribe or people with\nanother, though miles of distance may intervene.\n\nThe stories vary in detail and in the telling, but the main points are\nidentical, showing conclusively that at some pre-historic time men had a\nmeans of inter-communication without telegraph, ships or railroads, and\nthat a myth originated by the medicine men or prophets of one tribe or\nnation would spread far beyond the boundaries of the tribe which first\npracticed it.\n\nThere are today two remarkable instances of this fact, both\nsemi-religious a and both originating with the medicine men.\n\nThe first is the ghost dance, made vaguely familiar by the battle of\nWounded Knee some years ago in the Dakota Bad Land. The other is the\nmyth of the Thunderbird, the Skam-son of the Haidas, and known from Cape\nFlattery to Wisconsin by various tribal names.\n\nThe object of this chapter is to show the remarkable hold which a\nmythical tale can get on the savage mind, and how the Ta-mahn-a-wis sway\nthe people of their tribe by their dark practices; hence the myth of the\nThunderbird as believed in by them from the coast to the great lakes.\n\nThe tale involving the origin of this strange creature has already been\ngiven as it is told among the Twanas, but it is more than probable that\neach tribe has its own version of the first appearance of it in their\nhorizon, as all Indians believe in a multitude of spirits, both good and\nbad.\n\nThe idea of a Great Spirit as is generally taken by whites to cover the\nIndian religion is erroneous, as every mountain, river, lake or other\nnatural object, as well as natural phenomenon, is accredited with being\nthe home of some particular spirit; in fact, the old Greek mythology is a\ngood comparison, and illustrates the idea exactly.\n\nHence we find the thunder personified by an immense bird with some\ntribes, and with others as half bird, half man, or a man who wears\na bird\u2019s skin, but, all agree that the personage is of colossal\nproportions, and give it the name of Thunderbird.\n\n[Illustration: DAKOTA DESIGNS OF SMALLER THUNDERERS.]\n\nSurroundings modify the form and features of this mythical being to a\ngreat extent, and account for the different descriptions of it given by\ndifferent tribes.\n\nThe Twanas believe it to be an immense bird which lives on the top of a\nhigh mountain, and feeds on whales which it kills by lightning. It is\nhere in the form of an eagle, with quill feathers sixty fathoms long in\neach wing.\n\nWith them it is a good spirit, harming no one unless an individual has\ndispleased it; then the person is killed by a glance from its eye, which\nis the lightning. They believe that it is the god of rain, and also\nthat the image of it carved on their implements of war or the chase\ngives the owner strength in fighting and good luck in hunting. Thus it\nis a hunter-warrior-rain god. Rev. Eells reports a carving of the Twana\nversion cut in a basaltic boulder near Eniti, Wash., which the Indians\nsay is the face of the Thunderbird, and they believe that if the rock is\nshaken or removed in any way it will cause rain.\n\nAmong the Haidas of Queen Charlotte island it is believed to be an\nimmense creature, half man, half bird, whose body is the mountains to the\nsea, shielded from view by heavy clouds, the main difference in the story\nbeing in the lightning, which is here personified by the fish instead of\ndescribed as a glance of the eye of the bird covered with feathers, and\nwho is accompanied by the lightning fish, which he darts at the whales\nand kills them for food. This lightning fish is pictured as the Killer\nwhale, which is feared by the Indians, as it attacks them sometimes while\nvoyaging about in their canoes; hence they credit it as a companion of\nthe Thunderbird, or Skam-son, as they call it. As with the Twanas, the\nthunder is caused by the flapping of the wings as the creature flies from\nSkam-son. This is easily accounted for by the fact that the Haidas are a\nsea-going nation, a nation of fishermen, who gain their living from the\nocean; hence they would naturally associate a fish of some kind with any\ntradition or myth where it could be used.\n\nThey tattoo the image of the bird on their bodies as a clan or family\nmark in t he same manner as they do the otter, halibut, skate and other\ndesigns, to signify the family the individual belongs to; or, as one\nremarked to Judge Swan of Port Townsend: \u201cIf you had the image of a swan\ntattooed on your body the Indians would know your family name.\u201d\n\nThe figure is carved on their totem posts and canoe stems and painted\non the house fronts, and various implements with the belief, as among\nthe Twanas, that it gives them power, courage and luck in hunting,\nfishing or war. A mask representing the head of the bird is worn in the\nTa-mahn-a-wis dances and ceremonies, which have something to do with the\nThunderbird, though just what this is has never been clearly ascertained,\nas the Indians will not allow whites to witness these Ta-mahn-a-wis\npractices, which are of the nature of a secret society among civilized\npeople.\n\nThe Twanas and the Clallams also use a mask of a different design for the\nsame purposes. No tribes tattoo the figure on their person, so far as\nknown, outside of the Haidas.\n\n[Illustration: OJIBWA FLYING THUNDERBIRD]\n\nLeaving the coast and going eastward we find the Thunderbird among the\nSioux of Dakota and Eastern Montana again, this time being personified\nin an immense eagle, with four joints to the wing and which dwells in\na lodge on the top of a high knoll or butte. The lodge has four doors,\none for each cardinal point of the compass, and at each door there is a\nguardian spirit. These spirits are a beaver, a butterfly, an otter and\none other animal not clearly defined, whose duty it is to guard and act\nas messengers for the Thunderbird.\n\nAs with the Twanas, the lightning is a glance from the eye, and a\nperson who has a presentment that the Thunderbird is displeased with\nhim and intends to kill him, retires to a high hill to await his doom,\nafter having bid his friends farewell. Sometimes, owing to the isolated\nposition of the individual, he is actually struck by lightning during\nsome of the heavy thunder storms of the region, and that settles the myth\nall the firmer in the Indian mind, for the Thunderbird it was who killed\nhim, just as he said it would. Here the myth assumes three or four, or\nrather a family of thunderers, some good, some evil, some who guard the\ndestiny of the warrior and strike terror into the heart of the enemy,\nothers who see that the hunter does not come home empty handed.\n\nSome are headless and have wings, some are wingless but provided with\nheads, but the Thunderbird, with a big \u201cT,\u201d who is the rain god and\nthunder creater and good spirit-in-chief, is described as a very large\nbird which flies fast. This bird has a whole brood of little ones, who\nfollow behind the big thunderer and make the long rumble noticeable in\nthe prairie thunder peals. The old bird is wise and good, harming no\none, and causing rain, which makes the plants grow, but the young ones\nare like young men, very mischievous, and will not listen to counsel and\nare continually doing a great deal of damage, and killing an occasional\nperson purely in a playful way, for when they grow old, they settle down\nand become good spirits, too. Nothing can kill or destroy the Thunderbird\nbut an immense giant, who can stride over rivers and mountains and can\nkill anything by a look. This giant still exists, but nobody knows where,\nand is always hunting for the thunderer, who has to fly from place to\nplace to keep away from the evil giant, thus causing storms by flying\nabout. The old bird starts with the loud crash of noise, and then the\nlittle ones rise in a swarm and make a lot more noise, but not so loud as\nthe old one, which flies very fast.\n\n[Illustration: HAIDA TATOOING\u2014THUNDERBIRD HEAD.]\n\nThe giant killed one of the old ones a long, long time ago, back of\nLittle Crow\u2019s village, near the head of the Mississippi river, and the\nmedicine men still have totems made of the feathers and bones, and they\nare very strong medicine against evil.\n\nThis bird had \u201ca face like a man, nose like an eagle bill, body long and\nslender and four joints to each wing, which were painted zigzag like the\nlightning, and the back of the head was rough and red,\u201d according to the\nDakota tradition. This is the Sioux story of the Thunderbird. Going a\nlittle further east we find the Ojibwa, who live in Minnesota and around\nthe shores of Lake Superior with a myth of the thunderer which makes it\nentirely a good spirit, a sort of servant of the medicine man, shaman or\npriest, and who helps them to work cures, find good medicine plants, and\nmany other things which have a good influence.\n\nWith the Ojibwa it is also an immense eagle-like bird but without any\nsuperfluity of wing joints. The thunder is the noise of its flying and it\ncauses rain which makes medicine plants grow and also it can apparently\nfind a medicine plant to fit the particular disease by looking on the\nearth, in the sky or in the inside of the earth, either of which places\nit can visit at will under the instructions of the medicine man or\nshaman, who holds a controlling power over it.\n\nThere is no record of any masks being used to represent the thunderer,\ndirectly east of the coast tribes, the only representations being from\nIndian drawings, which interpret their idea and which are represented in\nthis book.\n\nThere are no carvings or images except those worked in beads, from near\nFort Snelling, Minnesota, which represent the bird with the red breast\nand tail, and having somewhat of an eagle form.\n\n[Illustration: OJIBWA THUNDERER]\n\nThe Ojibwa figures are from drawings on the \u201cmusic board\u201d used by the\nOjibwa at the initiation of candidates into the society of the Mide-wiwin\nor great medicine, and are really notes in the medicine song of this\nsociety, for they are only one of numerous characters painted in rows on\na board which are translated into a chant by the Mide men to mean some\nparticular achievement of the Thunderbird under the guidance of that\nsociety.\n\nThis Thunderbird lives somewhere up in the sky and can only be brought to\nthe earth by the Mide or shaman priests, who are the medicine men of the\ntribe, and members of the Mide-wiwin society, and then only to serve some\ngood end in the making of medicine.\n\nThus the Thunderbird of the Pacific Coast degenerates into a servant of\nthe Ojibwa medicine man, or else the servant grows to the proportion of\na God as he travels West according to which version is taken as to the\norigin, but it is likely that the servant grew to be the God, as all\ntales grow in the telling, especially among an ignorant people like the\nIndians.\n\nMost of these myths and folk-lore tales have their origin in a \u201cdream\u201d or\ntrance of some medicine man whose word is taken without question by his\npeople because he is really a religious magician or prophet-doctor who\nis credited with many supernatural powers, has \u201cvisions\u201d and foretells\nevents. They are clever in the means they employ to bring about a desired\nend and thus \u201cspeak a single, straight tongue\u201d to their people who would\nas soon cut off a hand as to doubt the statements of the Ta-mahn-a-wis\nmen. With this kind of a power wielded over them it is no wonder that\nthe simple-minded Indian peoples the earth, the sea and the air with all\nkinds of demons of which the Thunderbird is but one example, and has a\nnoise for every Skal-lal-a-toot, and a Skal-lal-a-toot for every noise,\nwith spirits inhabiting everything, totems, fetiches and charms for\nand against a thousand and one things which he does not understand and\ncredits to the supernatural.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV\n\nTHEIR DAILY EXISTENCE\n\n\nThe illustrations of the Puget Sound Indian accompanying are very\ncharacteristic of the race. In the main the general characteristics are\nsuch that they cannot be mistaken. The infusion of white and foreign\nblood during the last 30 years or so has had a marked effect upon the\nlater generation and to a great extent changed the current of Indian\nlife. Leaving out of the question the general features of color and\nvigorousness of form they are readily distinguishable from the pure\nbloods about them. Half-breeds more readily fall into and adopt the\ncustoms and practices of the whites and to a considerable extent are not\naverse to manual labor. Hence they are found in the mills and forests of\nthe country sharing the burdens of civilized life.\n\nBut work for a genuine Siwash is no more palatable than it is to a\nPatagonian. He sticks to his \u201ccanim\u201d like a leech to the epidermis.\nLaziness is a cultivated characteristic of the old-time Indian, is\ngrafted into his being as indelibly as the tattooing on the arm of an\nEast India man and he will never work so long as the sands on his native\nbeach contain a live clam or the hills above a huckleberry bush from\nwhich his klootchman can dig a bivalve or pick a wicker basket of blue\nberries. He will not even deign to assist in these simple labors, and\nin this he does not surpass his kinsman who are reared in the interior.\nThese are the drudgery of his klootchman and night or day, sun or rain,\nshe may always be found on the beach rustling up the next meal. He will\nsometimes accompany her and when there are two baskets to \u201ctote\u201d he may\neven consent to carry one, but it is much more to his nature to trudge\nalong at the rear empty handed. This characteristic is more apparent in\nthe cities when, having more of one or the other than the family larder\nrequires for the time being, they seek the towns to dispose of it for a\ntrifling sum, which is to be expended in knick knacks, gew gaws, etc.,\netc., that are the fancy of the Indian mind.\n\n[Illustration: BUILDING SIWASH CANIM]\n\nThe one thing only which the old-time Siwash thinks it not beneath his\ndignity to indulge in is fishing, and this is his particular special\nprivilege which he never permits any interference with. True, his dame\nhas the privilege of fishing for cod and dogfish and the commoner\nspecies, but the taking of the lordly salmon is never relegated to her.\nIf he is one of the old-time Indians wrapped still in the superstitious\nbeliefs of his ancestors, not only is she not permitted the pleasure\nof the chase for salmon, but she is never permitted to put her foot\ninside the salmon canim, nor is she ever allowed to touch the salmon\nline or hook. That would forever spoil either canoe or line from use by\nthe imperious head of the household. These practices, while still in\nvogue among the more isolated villages, is not so strictly adhered to\nby Indians who almost daily come in contact with the whites, nor are\nthese remnants of a superstitious race very widely known among their\nenlightened and civilized neighbors. A trip to any of the favorite\nfishing grounds about the Sound and a study of the life of the village\nwill convince any one that were they suddenly removed from all influence\nof civilized life, the Indian of today is just as he was when the\nfirst white man\u2019s boat ploughed the gentle waters of the Sound. The\nthoroughbred Siwash will not even countenance the pretty gearing of the\nmodern fisherman, but clings tenaciously to those articles fashioned by\nhis own hand. He, however, will use the spoon in trolling, but it is one\nhe has made himself from the metal and polished in his own way, swung\nfrom a bit of wire crooked and fashioned in his own odd fashion. His is\nan invention unprotected, yet he will never trouble himself about letters\npatent, for no white man can ever imitate his work successfully. There\nis something about it that seems to have a most unusual attraction for\nthe finest and best, for a Siwash is seldom met with winter or summer,\non a fishing expedition without one or more of the best fish the water\ncontains.\n\nThey know just the hour, just the spot and place when and where to fish\nand seldom are seen trolling any other time. Trout a Siwash has no\nlove for and never attempts to take. He may have his camp on a stream\nalive with the finest of the trout species, but he never molests them.\nA polluted dog salmon lying dead upon the sand bank is more preferable\nin his eyes and he will pick up one and walk away with the same grim\nsatisfaction that he will after having speared or hooked a monster silver\nside, the king of the genus.\n\nThe klootchman is no less characteristic in appearance and features than\nthe Siwash himself. They are decrepit in looks, bowed in form from the\nconstant life-long use of the canim, prematurely old and unsociable as\na black bear. There is if possible more superstition, more mystery to\nthe klootchman than to her lordly partner. She never talks to the whites\nunless it is to offer for sale the fruit from the forest, the catch from\nthe salt water or when around on begging expeditions, and of the latter\nthere is little. The Siwash will stoop to outright begging, especially\nif he is a chief or has become debauched by associates with evil-minded\nwhites, but his wife scarcely ever.\n\nLa belle klootchman is both the pride of the family and the belle of the\nvillage, and on her is lavished all the fashion and vermillion of the\nsweet society of the natives. She dotes on loud colors and is noticeably\nproud of whatever she wears as long as it is bright and showy. She\nages, however, like an autumn leaf and once past sweet sixteen she is\nrelegated to the shades of ugliness and forgotten. Of all things, Indian,\nthe hardest to determine would be the age of the pure blood Siwash or\nklootchman. They may be about 30 or may be 75, they all look alike after\nreaching the usual majority in years.\n\nOutside the supplying of daily wants the only other task of the\npure-blood Siwash is the building of his cedar canoes. Seldom is it\nthat the whites get an opportunity of seeing this work in progress. It\nis most always done on or near the beach in out-of-the-way places and\nthe old-fashioned Indian-made hand adz is as religiously adhered to\nas it ever was. The interior of the cedar log was originally cleared\nby burning, but occasionally they will now condescend to the use of a\nheavier instrument secured from the whites to get rid of the core. In\ntrimming down, fashioning and finishing up the canoe the little bit of\nsharpened steel is, however, always used.\n\nEarly Indians, and for that matter all of the present day, entertained\na righteous dread of photography. Electricity, the galvanic battery and\nthe telegraph wires were things as dreadful to them as their imaginary\nSkal-lal-la-toot, that ranged the woods about their villages. They\nbelieve that these things are spirits of some kind that have been through\nthe influence of the white man\u2019s Ta-mahn-a-wis or big medicines enslaved\nto the fellow who happens to possess the electrical appliance.\n\nWhen the old trader, William Deshaw, who has been frequently mentioned\nin connection with Port Madison Indians, first came to Agate pass to\nlook after the Indians there he took with him an old-fashioned galvanic\nbattery. This mysterious instrument probably invested him, in the eyes\nof the simple savages, who had never before heard of such things, with\ngreater power than anything else he could possibly have taken among them.\nIt promoted him at once to the position of a great white Ta-mahn-a-wis,\nwhose influence was never afterwards disputed. Soon after his appearance\nthere and acquaintance with the Old-Man-House tribes the construction\nof the old Puget Sound Telegraph & Cable company\u2019s line was carried\npast their village and it became a thing of dreadful consequence to the\nIndians. They avoided it and feared it as they did the \u201cevil eye.\u201d It\nwas quite an impossible thing to ever get an Indian to lend a hand at\nreplacing the wires in position when they happened to become broken down\nduring the winter storms. Touch an electric wire? They would sooner have\nsuffered the loss of a hand under a chopping block.\n\nThe old trader tells of many amusing spectacles with the use of the\nold galvanic battery on some of the Indians. As before stated the\npractices of their severe superstitious rites often caused many of the\nTa-mahn-a-wis men to fall into trance-like and comatose conditions,\nfrom which it was impossible, by any known Indian agency to arouse\nthem. The old trader tells of one that occurred at Old-Man-House in\nwhich the efficacy of the old galvanic battery was proved to the Indians\nsatisfaction with a vengeance. One of these old medicine men had after\nseveral days of unusual exertion and privation fallen into a comatose\ncondition. Every art known to the other\u2019s Ta-mahn-a-wis had been exerted\nto no purpose and as a last resort the Indians had sent for the white\nTa-mahn-a-wis living across the narrow pass.\u201cSo he\u2019s dead, is he?\u201d\ninquired the trader of the Indians who went after him.\n\n\u201cYes, he\u2019s dead. Indian Ta-mahn-a-wis no good for him,\u201d returned the\ncouriers.\n\n\u201cUmph! yes, well white man\u2019s Ta-mahn-a-wis fetch him,\u201d said the trader\nand he went after the old battery. Going across he found the Indian lying\non the floor of a hut upon the inevitable rush mat and to all intents and\npurposes dead as a mackerel, with a howling, prancing mob of his brethren\nabout him.\n\nThe trader felt of him, but he was cold and bloodless without apparent\npulse or life. He cleared a space about him and arranged his battery. The\nIndians becoming subdued watched the process with incredulity and stoical\nsilence. The poles of the instrument were placed so that the full effect\nof the electric current would be most keenly felt, and then the operator\nturned it on with force enough to have broken up the nerve system of a\ndozen ordinary men. With a bound and a shriek the prostrate form was on\nhis feet in an instant and so sudden was the transformation that half the\nonlookers were knocked down by the terrified and quickened medicine man\nby his wild leap into the air. He bolted for the door and took for the\nwoods amidst the greatest consternation of his mourning friends. He did\nnot return for some days, but the evil spirit that had been supposed to\nhave taken possession of him was effectually squelched. After that there\nwas no more incredulous smiles and looks when the galvanic battery was\naround.\n\nThis trader, who knew Seattle\u2019s famous old chief almost as a brother,\nsays they had a great time trying to secure a photograph of him in the\nearly days. There was but one small photograph gallery in Seattle at that\ntime. Many days and weeks passed before the old settler could induce\nthe chief even to go near the place. By degrees they got him in the\nbuilding, but when he would see the muzzle of the camera pointed at him,\nhe would invariably break away. One day the settlers went all the way to\nFort Steilacoom and bought a new suit of soldiers clothes for him to be\nphotographed in. The old chief was greatly pleased at such a compliment,\nbut when he found there was to be a string to the proposition, a\nconsideration in the way of submitting to be photographed, the settlers\ncould do nothing further with him. In the language of the old trader,\n\u201cThat put a squibosh on the whole business.\u201d\n\nAt the next attempt to get the old fellow photographed somebody got\nhim to \u201cswilling\u201d a little and managed to get the old fellow into the\ngallery. He was too much under the influence of the liquid to know what\nwas being done, and the photographer got a shot at him. When the old\nchief came to his senses he was dreadfully outraged in feeling and said\nthat he \u201cdidn\u2019t want any more shots at him.\u201d After that when looking\nthrough a picture book the old chief was very careful. The Indian\u2019s\nsuperstition led him to believe that men in a picture took the evil\ngenius of the photograph, or the electric wire lurked to pounce out and\nenslave him.\n\n[Illustration: SYMBOLIC DRAWING\u2014Northern Indians]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XV\n\nLEGEND OF THE FIRST FROG\n\n\nIt may be interesting, and at this time something of a relief from the\nduller monotony of the pages preceding, to give one of the characteristic\nlegends which were current among the Indians when first the whites came\namong them. This may properly be termed the Siwash legend of the first\nfrog, and gives the sad fate that befell a too ardent Indian lover.\n\n\u201cMany many snows ago the Great Tyee of all lived upon the earth; the\nsnows that have come and gone since then cannot well be counted by men.\nThe Great Tyee was not only chief over man, but also over the birds, the\nfish and all the animals in the woods. All feared him and did his bidding.\n\n\u201cThe Great Tyee had been very successful in his wars, and had subjugated\nall the chiefs but Clack-a-mas, a warrior who had long and well fought\nagainst the Great Tyee. At last both, growing tired of war, resolved\nto smoke the great peace pipe and bury the hatchet, and to more firmly\ncement their growing friendship the Great Tyee asked for and obtained the\nconsent of Clack-a-mas to the marriage of his daughter Kla-Kla-Klack-Hah\n(the woman who talks) to Wah-Wah-Hoo, the Tyee\u2019s only son. But the Great\nTyee\u2019s plans for the marriage of his son were destined to be nipped in\nthe bud. Wah-Wah-Hoo had long and ardently loved a maiden of his own\ntribe, a daughter of one of the lesser chiefs. Hah-Hah had all those\ngraces which go to make a woman charming, and she was as deeply in love\nwith Wah-Wah-Hoo as he with her.\n\n\u201cIt is easier to imagine than to depict the grief of the lovers when they\nlearned the will of the Great Tyee. To Wah-Wah-Hoo it seemed that nothing\nwas left him to do but to prepare for the wedding, which was to take\nplace immediately. It had not as yet occurred to him to disobey the Great\nTyee. Such a path was fraught with too much danger to be taken at once,\nand for the present no ray of hope penetrated through the dark cloud\nthat had settled down and quenched the bright light of his and Hah-Hah\u2019s\nhappiness.\n\n\u201cDaily the preparations for the marriage went on, and as the day of its\nconsummation drew nearer Wah-Wah-Hoo became more and more reluctant to\ncarry out the command of the Great Tyee. On the day before the wedding\nHah-Hah, robed in her brightest skins, went to keep the last tryst with\nher recreant lover. They met in a grassy dell, sprinkled over with\nbrightest wild flowers; but to the infatuated lover Hah-Hah was the\nloveliest flower of them all. Love stole away his reason, and, forgetful\nof his duty to the Great Tyee, his father, Wah-Wah-Hoo gathered Hah-Hah\nup in his arms and hurried away into the forest. They journeyed many suns\ninto the somber woods and finally built themselves a shelter on the bank\nof a great river, where, forgetful of the wrath of the Great Tyee, they\nwere happy.\n\n\u201cThe wedding day dawned. Kla-Kla-Klack-Hah, robed in her best skins,\nstood waiting the coming of Wah-Wah-Hoo to claim and to carry off his\nbride. The minutes swiftly multiplied into hours until Clack-a-mas,\ndeeply chagrined at the disdainful treatment of his daughter, sought an\nexplanation of the Great Tyee. A search was immediately instituted for\nWah-Wah-Hoo, and then, and not until then, was the flight of the lovers\ndiscovered.\n\n\u201cAt once the Great Tyee ordered his swiftest runners and his best\ntrailers to follow and to bring back his disobedient son. Swiftly they\nran through the woods, searching long and far, but baffled at last,\nthey were compelled to return to the Great Tyee with the story of their\nfailure.\n\n\u201cThen the Great Tyee went out, and, seated upon the river bank, called\nabout him the chiefs of all the animals in the woods and of the fishes in\nthe sea and commanded them as they feared his anger to search for and to\nfind his son. They, dreading his power, immediately set out upon their\nquest.\n\n\u201cThe snake, squirming his way in and out among the berry patches,\nsearched long and arduously for the lovers. The chief of the mosquitos,\ncalling about him his band, who number more than the grains of sand\non the sea shore, searched for and found the lovers; but the chief,\nremembering that when, in an inadvertent and hungry moment he had\nalighted upon Hah-Hah\u2019s cheek she had spared his life, ordered his band\nto disperse and to say nothing of the lovers. The squirrel, running up\nand down the trees hoarding his winter stores, kept watch that the lovers\ndid not go by him unseen. The eagle, in ever-increasing circles, soared\nhigh above the land and kept a watchful eye that the lovers did not\nescape him. The chief of the wolves found them, but, remembering that\nWah-Wah-Hoo had saved his life when caught in a trap, he, too, commanded\nhis followers to say nothing of the lovers.\n\n\u201cSoon the chilling blasts of winter went whistling through the woods,\nand the ice king, seizing the earth in his stifling grasp, wrapped it\nin a mantle of snow. Hunger\u2014grim, gaunt, unrelenting hunger\u2014entered\nWah-Wah-Hoo\u2019s wigwam, and stole from him that which he loved best of all,\nHah-Hah. Wah-Wah-Hoo, looking for the last time upon his sweetheart,\nturned away and hurried to the big rock overlooking the swirling water\nof the river. There, singing his death song, he flung himself into\nthe water. But Wah-Wah-Hoo was destined not to die. The chief of the\nfishes swallowed him, and, swimming to the spot where the Great Tyee was\nstanding, spewed him forth upon the bank.\n\n\u201cThe Great Tyee cursed his son and changed him into a frog, whose dismal\ncroaking is now heard, telling his sad story to the sons of man and\nwarning them to be obedient.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI\n\nANOTHER MAN IN THE MOON\n\n\nThe man in the moon, among some of the tribes, has a very pretty story\nreserved for him, which like the young brave who was turned into a\ncroaking frog was placed in the moon for his too ardent love for a dusky\nmaiden. The legend more properly belongs to the Vancouver island tribes.\nThe following version was told by an Indian who is thought to be over 100\nyears old and it is faithfully believed in by himself and his tribe:\n\n\u201c\u2018Many, many snows ago, long before a white man came to this country,\nthere lived in a village on Quatsino sound the Great Tyee of all. He was\nnot only tyee over men, but also over the animals, birds and fishes. His\nsmile was like the sun coming from behind the cloud, his frown like the\nlightning, quick and awful, no man could stand before it and live.\n\n\u201c\u2018Wah-nah-ho, the Great Tyee\u2019s son, was just the opposite from his\nfather, sunny tempered, and loved by every one. The animals and birds\nin the forest, the fishes in the sea, all loved and did his bidding.\nNow, Wah-nah-ho was unhappy. He loved Tum-Tum, the fairest maiden in all\nthe land, and the Great Tyee had commanded him to marry Shingoopoot\u2019s\ndaughter, who was ugly, ill-tempered, and who had already had one\nhusband. Now, Wah-nah-ho, who in all things else had been a most obedient\nson, rebelled against his father, and with Tum-Tum at night when all the\nvillage was asleep, stole away, and running swiftly, hid themselves in\nthe forest.\n\n\u201c\u2018The Great Tyee, when he discovered the flight of the lovers, was very\nwroth, and swore that he would not show himself to his people until the\ncouple were found and brought before him. All the young men of the tribe\nimmediately plunged into the forest and hurried away to look for the\nlovers. They searched long and at a great distance, but unsuccessfully,\nand one by one returned to the village. Then the Great Tyee ordered all\nthe animals and birds out of the forest, and all the fishes out of the\nrivers determined that hunger should compel his disobedient son to return.\n\n\u201c\u2018Finally, as day after day, he set his unsuccessful snares in the woods\nand searched the streams for food, Wah-nah-ho was at last driven to\nreturn to the village. He sought his father with his sweetheart, and on\nhis knees told him of his love for Tum-Tum, and begged for forgiveness.\nThe Great Tyee\u2019s wrath broke forth at the sight of his son, and he placed\nhim in the sky with his sweetheart, where they now dwell, telling the\nsons and daughters of man to be obedient.\u2019\u201d\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVII\n\nS\u2019BEOW AND HIS GRANDMOTHER\n\n\nThe wonders of the course of nature have ever challenged human attention.\nIn savagery, in barbarism, and in civilization alike, the mind of man has\nsought the explanation of things. The Indians around Puget Sound have\nnot been less curious than the other races. Like the rest, they have a\nstrong yearning to understand the causes of all natural phenomena, such\nas the movement of the heavenly bodies, the change of the seasons, the\nsuccession of the night and day, the powers of air and water, the growth\nof trees, the overflowing of rivers, the curious forms of storm-carved\nrocks, the mysteries of life and death, the origin of the institutions of\nsociety all demand explanation. While the desire of the savage to know\nis as strong as it is with the civilized man, his curiosity is much more\neasily satisfied. The sense of the savage is dull compared with that\nof the civilized man; some people think that the barbarian has highly\ndeveloped perceptive faculties. Nothing could be farther from the truth.\nFor he sees few sights, hears few sounds, tastes of but few flavors,\nsmells of but few odors, so by reason of the extreme narrowness of his\nexperiences his whole sensible organization is coarse and blunt and his\npowers of penetration are limited. He experiences some things difficult\nto account for with his crude understanding. But he attempts to explain\nit nevertheless. To his understanding supernatural power is necessary to\nthe performance of the acts which he describes, so he invents a story\nwhich explains the phenomena to his satisfaction. He repeats it to\nothers and in their hands it grows and changes, becoming more refined\nand reasonable as the race advances. Thus are the mythologies, the\nphilosophies, the religions, and the explanations of natural phenomena\nof the savage man evolved; and just in proportion as he advances in the\nscale of civilization the less he believes in these old traditions; the\nmore difficult the phenomena of nature for him to explain, the more\nskeptical he becomes; in short, the more he knows, the less he thinks he\nknows.\n\nTheir folklore explains all of the phenomena of nature to the\nsatisfaction of the savage, however foolish and simple it may seem to us.\n\nOur Indians have not advanced far enough yet for their myths to contain\nany of those lofty ideals and refined sentiments which crept into the\npoetic legends of Greece, neither have they any conception of infinite\npower. But nevertheless the performances of their Demi-gods, with that\nqueer mixture of power and weakness, and our \u201cstick-siwashes\u201d bear a\nstriking resemblance. The myths of the origin of the world and of man,\nthe fire-stealing, the romantic adventures of gods and heroes, and of the\nsun and moon, have much in common, one with the other.\n\nThe most remarkable character in lore of the Puget Sound Indian was\nold S\u2019Beow. As the stories go, he is supposed to have been originally\nan Arctic or white fox; but changed himself into a man. Ki-ki, or the\nbluejay, was his grandmother. He had great power over his enemies\nalthough he was often misled and even killed by them. He could change\nhimself into the form of any animal or thing he wished to; could cut\nhimself to pieces and put himself together again, and do many other\nwonderful things. He is described as having cut himself in pieces and\npoking the pieces out through a small hole in an ice house in which he\nhad been imprisoned and securing his liberty. There is also a story of\nS\u2019Beow playing ball with his own eyes.\n\nEldridge Morse, who has studied these legends systematically describes\nthe Indians\u2019 conception of S\u2019Beow as follows: He was a very short, pussy,\nbig-bellied man who looked a little like Santa Claus, with a long, heavy\nwhite beard reaching to his waist; short white hair, sharp black eyes,\nsharp pointed ears like those of an Arctic fox, and small hands and feet.\nFrom either side of his mouth protruded an ugly cougar\u2019s tusk. He wore a\nshort coat of mountain goat\u2019s wool and had four live bluejays for buttons.\n\nAn old Indian up on the Stillaguamish river believes that his father saw\nS\u2019Beow once. He relates the experience as follows: At the southern point\nof Camano island there is an old land slide.\n\nMany years ago there was a band of Indians camped at that point on the\nbeach. His father and family were in a canoe paddling toward the camp.\nIt was just dusk and the ruby rays of a summer sun-set had not yet\ndisappeared. As if by magic or ta-mahn-a-wis, a man stood out on the\nbluff above them. He swelled himself up and again he swelled himself up\nuntil he was recognized as the form of old S\u2019Beow, standing there as tall\nas the big fir trees. Presently S\u2019Beow kicked the bluff over onto the\nIndians camped on the beach and buried them all, then stepped across onto\nHat island and disappeared.\n\nIndians riding by the spot mourn and wail and cry for them to this day.\nThis fact together with the existence of the old slide at that place\nproves the truth of the whole story to the entire satisfaction of the\nsavage.\n\nIt is very difficult to gather legends from the Puget Sound Indians,\nhowever. Rev. Myron Eels, the venerable missionary of the Skokomish\nreservation, Judge James G. Swan of Port Townsend, and Eldridge Morse, of\nSnohomish, have met with some success. The latter gentleman is the only\none who has gathered them systematically and he has published nothing.\n\nThe Indians manifest much embarrassment when approached by a collector\nof traditions until they learn that he is already familiar with them,\nthen his sailing is clear if he does not make fun of them. After all the\ninvestigator is not sure at the present day how much of the story is an\nIndian tradition and how much of it has been mixed with a story that some\nmissionary has told.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVIII\n\nTHE DEMON SKANA\n\n\nThe Makahs of Cape Flattery tell many stories of animals quite\nallegorical in their nature, which differ in details only from the\nlegends of the other West coast tribes. One of their leading characters\nis the demon Skana. According to the Indian belief he can change himself\ninto any form. There are many stories told of him. A long time ago the\nIndians were seal hunting in calm weather on a smooth sea. A killer\nwhale kept close to the canoe, and the Indians amused themselves by\nthrowing stones from their canoe ballast at him. The creature, tiring\nof this treatment, made for the shore, where it grounded on the beach.\nThe curious Indians were attracted by a smoke which they saw curling\nup from the beach, and put for shore that they might learn its cause.\nUpon reaching the shore they were much surprised to find a large canoe,\ninstead of Skana, on the beach, and that a man was on shore cooking some\nfood by an out-door fire. He asked them why they threw stones at his\ncanoe. \u201cYou have broken it,\u201d said he; \u201cnow go into the woods and get some\ncedar to mend it with.\u201d\n\nAfter they had complied with his request he said to them: \u201cTurn your\nbacks to the water and cover your heads with your skin blankets, and\ndon\u2019t look till I call you.\u201d They obeyed, and heard the canoe grate on\nthe beach as it was being hauled into the surf. Then the man exclaimed:\n\u201cLook now!\u201d They looked and saw the canoe just going over the first\nbreaker, the man sitting in the stern. They looked again and the canoe\ncame up outside of the second breaker a killer, and not a canoe, with the\nman, or demon, in its belly. According to James G. Swain this allegory is\ncommon to all the tribes of the Northwest coast, and even in the interior\nwhere the salmon takes the place of the ocra, which never ascends fresh\nwater rivers. To the north the Chilkat and other tribes carve the figure\nof a salmon, inside of which is the full length figure of a nude Indian.\n\nA casual observer might mistake this for another Jonah story taught the\nIndians by the missionaries, but it is said to too far antedate their\narrival.\n\nJames G. Swan tells the story of one legend of the man in the moon, which\nis common to the West coast Indians, and quite interesting.\n\nThe moon discovered a man about to dip his bucket into a brook after some\nwater, so it sent down its arms, or rays, and grabbed the man, who, to\nsave himself, seized hold of a big salal bush, but the moon being more\npowerful took the man, bucket and bush up to himself, where they have\never since lived, and can be seen every full moon during clear weather.\nThe man is a friend of the wind god, and at the proper signal empties his\nbucket, causing it to rain on the earth.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIX\n\nTHE FALL OF SNOQUALM\n\n\nNot far from the Snoqualmie hop ranch, on the Snoqualmie prairie, is\na large mountain called Old Si, with what seems to be the image of a\nhuman form on the face of it. The story of its origin as told by the\nold Snoqualmie Indians, is one of the best legends that the Puget Sound\nIndians possess.\n\nSnoqualm, the moon, then the king of the heavens, commanded the spider\nty-ee (chief) to make a rope of cedar bark and stretch it from the sky\nto the earth. Upon seeing this, S\u2019Beow\u2019s son, Si\u2019Beow, told Ki-ki, the\nbluejay, S\u2019Beow\u2019s grandmother, to go up along the rope and then told his\nfather to follow her.\n\nThe bluejay kept going up and going up and going up and S\u2019Beow following\nafter her, kept climbing up and climbing up and climbing up and the\nbluejay kept flying up and flying up and flying up a long time until\nshe reached the under side of the sky, and S\u2019Beow kept climbing up and\nclimbing a-lo-ong time until he too got to where the great rope was\nfastened on the under side of the sky. And the bluejay began pecking away\nand she continued picking away and picking away and picking away until\nshe made a hole through into the sky. It was well into the night when\nKi-ki finished making her hole through and S\u2019Beow followed after her into\nthe sky. When S\u2019Beow got through the hole he found himself in a lake. He\nchanged himself into a beaver and got caught in a dead-fall beaver trap,\nwhich had been set by Snoqualm and when Snoqualm examined his trap in the\nmorning he found a dead beaver with his skull crushed in. The Great Ty-ee\ntook the beaver out of the trap, took the beaver to his home, skinned it,\nstretched the skin upon a hoop, hung it up to dry and threw the carcass\nover in the corner of his smoke house. All day long and well into the\nnight S\u2019Beow lay there a dead beaver\u2019s carcass. At last Snoqualm fell\ninto deep sleep and was heard snoring loudly. Then S\u2019Beow got up, took\nhis skin from the wall, removed it from the hoop and put it on himself\nand set about to explore the house of the Great Ty-ee. Outside the house\nhe found some great forests of fir and cedar trees, which he pulled out\nby he roots and by his ta-mahn-a-wis (magic) made them small enough so\nthat he could carry them under his arm.\n\nHe then entered the house and found hidden on one shelf the machinery\nthat made the daylight, which he carried under the other arm. He took\nsome fire from under the smoke hole, put some ashes around it and wrapped\nit with bark and leaves and carried it in one hand, in the other he\ncarried the sun which he found hidden on the same shelf as the machinery\nwhich made the daylight. With all these things he proceeded to the lake\nout of which he had been trapped on the previous day, transformed himself\ninto a beaver again, dove to the bottom of the lake and found where the\nspider Ty-ee had made the rope fast. He changed himself back into old\nS\u2019Beow again and descended to earth, where he set out all the great trees\naround Puget Sound. He gave fire to the people, set the Sun in position\nand put the machinery that makes the daylight to working.\n\nWhen Snoqualm awoke and saw what had been stolen, he in great rage\npursued old S\u2019Beow, going straight away to the place where the rope was\nmade fast and started to descend to earth. The rope gave way with him and\nSnoqualm and the great rope fell in a heap making that great mountain\nnear the head waters of the Snoqualmie river, and the outline of the\nhuman face which the Indian fancies to this day that he can see in the\ndistance is what is left of old Snoqualm, once the Great King of the\nHeavens.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XX\n\nLEGEND OF THE STICK-PAN\n\n\nOne of the most common legends among the Indians around Puget Sound is\nthe story of the stick-pan or the magic pan. \u201cStick-pan\u201d is the Chinook\nname of a shallow wooden tray upon which the Puget Sound Indians served\ntheir food in their days of savagery. The story of the magic stick-pan\nwas current among all the tribes of the region, each of them representing\nthe scene of action to be along the river or stream most frequented by\nthem.\n\nAccording to their idea, S\u2019Beow, although possessed of many supernatural\npowers, was thoroughly human. He could be led astray, overcome by\nsuperior force, killed or otherwise disposed of as easy as any other\nSiwash so far as his carnal self was concerned; but his spirit was\nunconquerable. The spirit was immortal and S\u2019Beow was never so dangerous\nas just after he had been killed.\n\nIn defending the blind woman Skotah, S\u2019Beow was overcome by superior\nforce, killed and thrown into the river. All night his dead body drifted\ndown the river. On the following day as he was rounding a bend in the\nstream he came in sight of some thin, pale blue smoke curling heavenward\nfrom a smouldering vine maple fire and on the bank of the river in front\nof it he beheld two squaws who were preparing a couple of silver salmon\nfor their dinner.\n\nBy this time S\u2019Beow\u2019s dead body had grown very hungry, even more hungry\nthan he had ever been when alive, and he was at a loss to know how he\ncould get something to eat. After a moment\u2019s reflection, however, a plan\nsuggested itself; S\u2019Beow transformed himself into a very elegant, richly\npainted stick-pan. Immediately upon catching sight of it the squaws put\nout in the middle of the river in their canims (canoes) to catch it as it\npassed by.\n\n\u201cWhat a fine stick-pan,\u201d exclaimed one of the klootchmen.\n\n\u201cJust what we need,\u201d replied the other, or as the old Indians express it:\n\u201cYa-ka de-late klosh stick-pan,\u201d while the other replied: \u201cMi si-ka hi-as\ntick-kee o-coke.\u201d\n\nThey picked it up, put it in their canoe and paddled ashore. Upon\nreaching the spit they proceeded with the preparation of their dinner,\nresting their fish before the fire on crossed sticks and roasting it in\nIndian style.\n\nThey ate from their newly found stick-pan. While they were consuming the\nupper half of the first salmon the lower half disappeared, they knew not\nwhere.\n\nS\u2019Beow had eaten it.\n\nWith a second salmon they met with a like experience for S\u2019Beow was very\nhungry. At supper their previous experience was repeated, so thinking\nthe stick-pan was possessed of demons and being very angry at it for\nconsuming so much of their food, they smashed it to pieces.\n\nAt this stage old S\u2019Beow cried with the voice of an infant: \u201cI\u2019ll be your\nbaby, I\u2019ll be your baby, if you don\u2019t hurt me.\u201d\n\nS\u2019Beow became their baby, was taken to their rancheree and placed on\na board, a weight placed on his head and suspended from posts by two\nstrings so that he might swing as in a hammock instead of being rocked in\na cradle.\n\nS\u2019Beow was a \u201cde-late klosh ten-as\u201d (a very good baby). When the women\nwere at home he would do much loving and cooing, but would rarely or\nnever cry, but when they went out fishing or gathering salmon berries he\nwould transform himself into old S\u2019Beow, get up and eat of their stores\nof dried salmon until his enormous appetite was satisfied and would then\nchange himself back into a baby again before the women returned.\n\nBadly as these childless, lonely women wanted a baby, they could not help\nthinking that the baby was possessed of evil spirits and that he ate the\ndried fish either when they were absent from the house or when they were\nasleep.\n\nAt length they reached the conclusion that the baby was old S\u2019Beow, and\none night while the fire was yet burning they talked the matter over and\nresolved to kill him.\n\nS\u2019Beow, hearing this, again took upon himself the real character of\nS\u2019Beow and departed. At dawn he reached the fish-trap where the women had\ncaught their salmon and trout. He found it full of fish. His heart was\naching for revenge so he destroyed the dam and allowed the fish to escape.\n\nThe fish were all very grateful to him for his kindness and they\nremembered him for it, so as he proceeded down the river the salmon and\ntrout came and poked their heads out of the water at every meal time so\nthat S\u2019Beow could choose from among them the fish that he wanted to eat.\n\nThere seems to be neither moral nor location to this fragment of legend,\nbut it illustrates clearly some features of old S\u2019Beow\u2019s character as the\naverage Puget Sound Indian used to understand him.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXI\n\nTHE MAGIC BLANKET\n\n\nOne of the best stories known to the Indians around Puget Sound is the\nlegend of the Ta-mahn-a-wis, or magic blanket.\n\nOnce upon a time there lived a boy with his parents on the shores of\nPuget Sound, who was just budding into young manhood. He had reached that\npoint in life where boys prepare to fight life\u2019s battles for themselves,\nand where the Indians in former times sought to discover their totem,\nor guardian spirit. This boy went alone with his bow and arrow into the\nwoods to hunt the little birds and little squirrels, and had good success\nin killing the little birds and little squirrels. He took the skins of\nthe little squirrels and the feathers of the little birds and wove them\ninto a blanket. Many days this little boy hunted in the woods for bird\nfeathers and squirrel skins with which to make his blanket, until his\nparents, friends and all the rest of the people became suspicious of him\nand began to think that he was possessed of evil spirits.\n\nStill the boy continued to work on his blanket day after day, from early\ndawn until nightfall, and all the while his friends knew not what he was\ndoing. At length they became so much alarmed at the evil spirits of this\nyoung man that they picked up all their effects, and got in their canoes\nand sailed a long way across the waters, and left the boy alone in the\nwoods without fire, food or shelter.\n\nThe boy went home at night after having completed his blanket, upon\nwhich he had been at work so long. When he found the home deserted he\nexclaimed, according to the rendering in classic Chinook:\n\n\u201cHalo piah, pe halo muck-a-muck, pe halo stick, pe halo ictas, pe halo\ntillicums. Nika de-late sick-tum tum.\u201d\n\nIf he had spoken in English he would have said:\n\n\u201cThere is no fire, and no food, and no house, and no pots, pans, kettles,\nno friends; in short, nothing. It makes me sick at heart.\u201d He looked all\nround for his people, but could find no trace of them. They had taken all\nof the canoes with them so that he could not follow them. He then thought\nof his blanket. He went and got it and walked down the beach to the\nedge of the salt water. He dipped one corner of the blanket in the salt\n\u201cchuck\u201d and shook it, and out fell wood, and he shook it again and there\nwas fire. Again he dipped the blanket in the water, and when he shook it\nout there were many little Siwashes to keep him company, and shaking it\nagain, they became big Siwashes. Again he dipped his blanket in the water\nand shook it, and there were thousands of beautiful smelt. Just then a\nbig bird came along and gobbled up all of the fish that it could carry\nand flew a long way over the waters with them to where the boy\u2019s people\nhad gone.\n\nThe boy\u2019s old mother was on the beach looking across the waters and\nbewailing his sad fate, and thinking how she loved him and how sorry she\nwas that she had left him, and how she wished she had not left him to\nperish there alone.\n\nShe thought she would see the rest of the people and see if she could not\nprevail on them to go back to her son, for she could not believe that he\nwas possessed of demons. The woman looked up and saw a great bird flying\nfrom the direction where her boy was living. The bird flew directly into\nher canoe and began to spew up smelt. Between the pumping Kuhl-kulli,\nfor that was the bird\u2019s name, would exclaim: \u201cI-bro-ught-these-from-your\nboy! I-bro-ught-these-from-your-boy!\u201d The great bird continued to spew up\nfish until the canoe was half filled with smelt, all the while saying: \u201cI\nbrought these from your boy!\u201d As the mother looked across the waters in\nthe direction in which the bird came her heart leaped high with joy, for\nin the dim distance she beheld a smoke rising heavenward, which informed\nher that her boy was all right, for she knew that her boy could not\nstarve with so many fish and a fire to cook them. She was sure that he\nwas possessed of a good, and not an evil, spirit.\n\nThe mother told her friends all about what had happened, and persuaded\nthem to go with her back to where her son was living, and the boy and his\nparents, his old friends and his new friends all lived happily together\nfor many years afterwards.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXII\n\nLEGEND OF FLATHEAD ORIGIN\n\n\nJames Henry, a well known Indian of Port Gamble, who follows the sealing\nbusiness is responsible for the story of the sky falling down.\n\nA long time ago all the Indians with flattened heads lived away up north\nin the region of perpetual ice and snow. The parents of the race were ten\nbrothers and all of them were very big men. They lived on deer and bear\nmeat and the flesh of tarmigan or white grouse. They were all excellent\narchers and they killed so many white grouse with their bows and arrows\nthat the Sagh-a-lie Tyee began to think that they would exterminate the\nspecies and he told them to kill no more white grouse for one \u201csnow,\u201d or\nwinter season. They heeded him not, for they kept on slaughtering the\ngrouse and eating them. In those days the sun passed over the earth from\neast to west and retraced its steps while they slept, and the sky was\nabove the sun. One day the Sagh-a-lie Tyee became much angered at them\nfor killing so many grouse, so he let the sky fall on them.\n\nThen there followed a long hard winter and many people perished of hunger\nand cold for they had not killed bear and deer and prepared for the\nwinter and it was so dark and there was so much ice and snow that they\ncould not see to hunt and fish. These ten brothers awaited the return of\nday for a long time and at last the youngest of them in utter despair set\nabout it and tried to lift up the sky with poles, and all his brothers\nhelped him. They worked in this way for many months. They would raise one\ncorner of the sky up so they could just see the day light and it would\nfall back on them, and again all would be total darkness, and all the\nland would be covered with ice and snow. At length, however, they got one\nbig tall pole and all the Indians went to work with it and tried to prop\nthe sky up, but for a long time they met with failure. At last, however,\nthey succeed in getting the sky to start up long enough so that the sun\ncould get under the great hollow hemisphere which they believe the sky\nto be, then the sun followed around the longest way in the day time of\nsummer going back on the upper, or outside of the sky in the shortest\nroute by night. In the winter months it passes across the under side of\nthe sky by the shortest route, and back on the outside by the longest\nroute so that ever since that time the Indians have had the longest days\nand shortest nights in the dry months of summer when they wanted to fish\nand hunt. It has always been light in the day time so that people could\nsee to work, and dark at night so that they could sleep better, and the\nIndians have had the longest nights and shortest days in the wet months\nof winter when they could do but little and wanted to sleep most of the\ntime.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIII\n\nA LEGEND OF THE FIRST FLOOD\n\n\nThe story of the big flood is common to all the tribes around Puget\nSound. The mountain referred to is usually the loftiest mountain nearest\nthem. The Lummi Indians refer to Mt. Baker, the upper Stillaguamish to\nMt. Pilchuck and the Nisquallies to Mt. Rainier, and each of them call\ntheir mountain Ta-ho-ma, from which is derived the name Tacoma. Ta-ho-ma\nmeans a lofty mountain, but does not refer to any peak in particular.\n\nIt was a long time ago, just after the breaking up of the great winter,\nthat the sky opened and a terrible rain and snow deluged the world and\nthe water kept on rising higher and higher until the great mountains\nwere covered beneath it and ice and snow, and the bones of bear and\ndeer and clam shells and fishbacks and logs floated on top of the water\nand settled on the mountain tops as the flood subsided. That is why the\nmountains are always covered with ice and snow. This also accounts for\nthe presence of logs upon the tops of the mountains where trees have not\ngrown and fish bones and clam shells and the like may be seen where they\ncould not now exist.\n\nAnother legend of similar nature but more appropriately giving the Indian\ntradition of the first man and woman is told by one writer as follows:\n\nThere once fell upon the earth a long terrible rain; the Whulge arose; it\nfilled the mountain walls, and all the tribes perished except one man.\nHe fled before the rising waters up the sides of Mt. Rainier. The waters\nrose and covered the mountain. They swept over his feet; they came to\nhis knees, to his waist. He seemed about to be swept away, when his feet\nturned to stone.\n\nThen the rain ceased. The clouds broke and the blue sky came again, and\nthe waters began to sink.\n\nThe one man stood there on top of Rainier. He could not lift his feet;\nthey were rocks. Birds flew again, flowers bloomed again, but he could\nnot go.\n\nThe Spirit of All Things came to him. \u201cSleep,\u201d said he. And the one man\nwith stone feet slept.\n\nAs he slept there the Spirit of All Things took from him a rib and made\nof it a woman. When he awoke there stood his wife ready-made on the top\nof Mt. Rainier. His stone shoes dropped off and the happy pair came down\nthe mountain to the wooded paradises of the Whulge on the sunset sea.\nHere sprung the human race at the foot of Rainier.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIV\n\nORIGIN OF SUN AND MOON\n\n\n[Illustration: MASK USED TO APPEASE CRYING CHILDREN\u2014OLD-MAN-HOUSE TRIBE]\n\nJoe Anderson, a Port Madison Indian, tells the story of the origin of\nthe sun and moon, a story which many of the Indians still continue to\nbelieve, notwithstanding their present Christian education.\n\nLong, long ago an Indian woman went to a creek to wash some clothes and\nleft her little babe at home alone. When she returned she found that the\nchild had been stolen and she wept bitterly. When she again went to the\ncreek to wash she took the baby\u2019s clothes with her. While washing, some\nof the baby\u2019s dresses sunk to the bottom of the creek and some mud got\non the inside of them. When she lifted them out of the water the mud was\ntransformed into another baby. However, it was not a bright clean baby\nlike the other, but a very black and dirty one. The new baby thrived and\ngrew very rapidly and the mother loved it dearly, although she longed for\nher kidnapped child to return.\n\nWhen the new baby got big enough he was always out at play in the mud\npuddles, seldom returning until late at night.\n\nAfter awhile the prodigal boy returned and played with the other boy, who\nstill continued to wear a dirty face.\n\nThe parents loved the clean boy best and the dirty boy became very\njealous. So one day the dirty boy thought he would go home as clean as\nthe other boy and spent the whole day in washing himself. At night when\nhe returned he was as clean and bright as the sun, and his brother who\nhad hitherto been so clean shone only like the moon in comparison. Then\nthe clean boy said: \u201cYou be the sun and I\u2019ll be the moon,\u201d and together\nthey flew away and the once dirty boy became the spirit of the sun which\nthrows bright light on the earth by day, and the once lost boy became the\nmoon which reflects dim light on the earth by night.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXV\n\nSKOBIA THE SKUNK\n\n\nQuite an interesting legend is the one describing how Skobia the Skunk\ncame to be so small as he is:\n\nA long time ago there lived a pole-cat who was the parent of all the race\nof skunks. He was a great skunk. In size he approached the cinnamon bear;\nhis perfume was strong in proportion, while his tread was correspondingly\nheavy and loud. Many were the nightly visits of \u201cSkobia,\u201d as the skunk is\ncalled by the Indian, to their camps and great was the damage to life and\ncomfort caused by him.\n\n[Illustration: CHARM MASK AGAINST THE EVIL EYE\u2014OLD-MAN-HOUSE TRIBE]\n\nThe Indians were at a loss to know what to do with Skobia, but at length\nthey thought of old S\u2019Beow and sent for him. Upon his arrival on the\nscene S\u2019Beow caused them all to get in a great potlatch house, a large\nbuilding used by the Indians of the Northwest coast on their ceremonial\noccasions. Then they all set themselves to cutting a big pile of vine\nmaple wood and bringing it into the potlatch house. At length when a\nsufficient pile of wood had been gathered together they built a great and\nvery hot fire of the wood. They fastened up all the doors and each Indian\ncut himself a cudgel about six feet long. All but old S\u2019Beow went to bed\nand pretended to be asleep.\n\nAlong about midnight, after the fire had burned to a bed of live coals\nthe heavy tread of Skobia was heard approaching the potlatch house. To\nillustrate the heavy tread of Skobia, the Indian will get down on all\nfours and slap the palm of his hands heavily on the ground after the\nfashion of the bear, skunk, weasel and other flat-footed quadrupeds.\n\nSkobia came to the door and demanded admittance, but no one paid any\nattention to him. He then begged of them and plead with them and told\nthem that he was their friend and wanted to come in to see them. At\nlength old S\u2019Beow pretended to rouse up and, like one just waking from\na deep sleep, he stretched and yawned and inquired of Skobia what he\nwanted. \u201cI am your friend and I want to come in and visit you,\u201d replied\nSkobia.\n\n\u201cYou\u2019re a skunk and will stink us out!\u201d said old S\u2019Beow. \u201cI\u2019m your\nfriend! I won\u2019t hurt you,\u201d replied Skobia. At last S\u2019Beow told Skobia\nhow he might enter the house. Skobia was advised to go up on the roof,\nblindfold himself and just reach his toes down through the opening in the\nsmoke hole so that S\u2019Beow could catch hold of them. He did so and S\u2019Beow\ncaught hold of them and quickly opened up the smoke hole and threw Skobia\ndown on the bed of burning coals.\n\n[Illustration: STONE AND COPPER WAR CLUBS\u2014TAKEN FROM SKOKOMISH INDIANS]\n\nThe Indians then who pretended to have been asleep all this time, but who\nhad not been asleep at all, sprung to their feet, grabbed their cudgels\nand turned Skobia over and over on the live coals and they kept turning\nhim over, and turning him over, and Skobia kept growing smaller, and\ngrowing smaller, a long time until he was no larger than a rat and would\nnot stink enough to hurt anybody. They then opened the door, kicked him\nout and ever since then the skunk has been a very small animal and no\nIndian has been afraid of him.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVI\n\nTHE EXTINCT SHILSHOH TRIBE\n\n\nOf the Shilshohs, a tribe once inhabiting the country about Salmon bay\nand in ante-civilized times all the country from Smith\u2019s cove and Lake\nUnion north to the Snohomish river, there is not at this time a single\nknown representative living, the tribe is extinct. Of these Indians\nlittle is known. Dr. H. A. Smith, of Smith\u2019s cove, who settled among them\nabout the time of the first settlement of Seattle, probably has the best\ngeneral knowledge of these bygone people. He furnished the author the\nfollowing particulars:\n\nWhen I settled here in 1853 about a dozen Indian families of the Shilshoh\ntribe were still living on Salmon bay and I learned from them that within\nthe recollection of their old men they numbered between 500 and 600\nincluding children, and according to tradition their numbers once ran up\ninto the thousands and that they occupied the entire country from Smith\u2019s\ncove and Lake Union to the Snohomish river. They claimed that the cause\nof their rapid decline was owing to frequent raids made upon them by the\nNorthern or Stickeen Indians, who visited the Sound every year for the\npurpose of plunder; that they were a very cruel people who delighted in\nmurder and never spared prisoners except for the purpose of enslaving\nthem. That they lived in constant dread of their northern and warlike\nfoes is evident from a circumstance that came under my own observation in\nthe fall of 1853.\n\nDesiring to reload a revolver that had become somewhat rusty, I stepped\nout into the yard and fired five or six shots in rapid succession about 8\no\u2019clock in the evening.\n\nThree days after one of the Shilshohs came to my house in a very agitated\nframe of mind to inquire if I had seen anything of the Stickeens. He said\nhis folks heard rapid firing in the direction of my house three nights\nbefore and thought I had been attacked by the Northern Indians, perhaps\nkilled, and, to save themselves his people had all taken to the woods,\nwhere they were still in hiding. He had skulked around by Lake Union and\nalong near Salmon bay and up to my house to learn if possible whether\nthe Stickeens had left Salmon bay. Although I assured him that I had\nbeen the innocent cause of their alarm it was several days before they\nventured back.\n\nThe few families that were here when I first came to live in the Cove\nmelted away like a morning frost. Gambling is a ruling passion among\nnearly all Indians and I attribute their rapid extinction largely to that\nvice.\n\nAfter the \u201cBostons,\u201d as they called Americans to distinguish them from\nthe Hudsons bay traders, came among them they soon began to live better.\nThey bought flour, beans, rice, clothes, blankets, and many of the more\nenterprising among them lived quite comfortably until a gambling mania\nwould seize them when they would frequently gamble off everything they\nowned, even their clothes, and then sleep on the bare ground or some\nnewly gathered ferns or moss and so nearly naked. The result of course\nwould be colds ending in pneumonia or consumption.\n\nDr. Jim, a genuine herb doctor, who was quite renowned for his many\nastonishing cures among the sable sons of the forest, was the last of\nthe Shilshohs. He was really a superior Siwash, manly, fine looking and\nintelligent, and during the last years of his chequered life he spoke the\nEnglish language fluently. About fifteen years ago he grew weary of this\nworld and left it by hanging himself to a rafter in his own house at the\nmouth of the Shilshoh bay one morning while his old wife was preparing\nbreakfast.\n\nNever having been blessed with offspring and his last wife being a lake\nIndian, his death struggles ended the cares of a man-cursed tribe, once\nfamed for its manly men and comely maidens. Of course they were not\ncomely viewed from the standpoint of a cultured American esthete, but the\nmaidens with fine features and red cheeks were as beautiful to the tawny\nhunter tribes as a Hebe would be to a Bostonian.\n\nOf their life and legends Dr. Smith never fully acquainted himself. Here\nis one tribe of native people at least who will pass into oblivion with\nscarcely a line left to the history-loving and history-writing people\nwho have taken their places. One legend alone and that the pioneer has\nreduced to verse has been preserved. The legend, as it appears, was\nwritten 40 years ago merely for the pleasure of it by the old pioneer and\nnever was offered for publication. It is tinged with romance and relates\nto an Indian maiden whose betrothed was killed during a raid by the\nNorthern or Stickeen Indians to Shilshoh bay. The Indian maiden\u2019s grief\nwas so great that she became deranged and on several occasions started\nalone in search of the absent lover in a canoe imagining she could sail\nto the happy hunting grounds and into the sunshine of his happy presence.\nOne morning she was missing and as her lover\u2019s canoe was gone and as her\ntracks proved that she had taken it her friends easily guessed her fate:\n\nGAZELLE, THE FOREST MAIDEN.\n\n The birds and the beasts had retired to rest,\n The sun\u2019s lingering rays from the mountains had fled,\n And angels had folded away from the west\n The wind-woven curtains of purple and red.\n\n The moon\u2019s silver morning had mantled the hills,\n Inviting the world\u2019s weary millions to lay\n Their sorrows aside for the beauty that thrills\n And soothes into silence the cares of the day.\n\n When, lured by the luster of mountain and lea,\n A maniac-maiden stole out of her tent\n To wander and weep by the sorrowing sea\n And sadden the night with her mournful lament.\n\n A sibylline song to her lover she sang,\n As she sat in the moonlight alone by his grave,\n And a more mournful strain on the night never rang\n Or saddened the soul of a guardian brave.\n\n \u201cHow oft have I seen him when only a child,\n His forehead with feathery fetishes crownded,\n Arrest with his arrow the deer in the wild,\n Or bring the gray swan from the sky to the ground.\n\n \u201cHow oft have I seen a strange light in his eyes\n As over the white foaming billows we whirled\n And watched the red lightnings dart down from the skies\n To pilot the hurricane over the world.\n\n \u201cNo more by the tempest tossed sea will he stroll,\n No more will he worship the wilderness here,\n For his spirit has gone to the home of the soul\n Where bison and elk are abundant as deer.\n\n \u201cO that the Great Spirit would answer my plea\n And bear me away on the wings of the waves\n To that lovelier land that lies over the sea,\n Where winds never moan over moss-covered graves.\u201d\n\n While singing, her eyes by fatality strayed\n To a little canoe, that she loved as her life,\n In which they had sailed from a flowery glade\n The morning he promised to make her his wife.\n\n Soon a wild fancy seized her, she paused not to ask\n A moment its meaning, her only desire\n Was strength to perform the congenial task\n Her _genius loci_ saw fit to inspire.\n\n A brief minute more and the bark was untied,\n With a fluttering heart and a tremulous hand,\n And launched on the waters, so lonely and wide,\n That rapidly hurried away from the land.\n\n \u201cI\u2019ll find him! I\u2019ll find him!\u201d she shouted in glee,\n \u201cHis tent must be pitched in some flowery dell\n In the land of the sachems beyond the blue sea\n Where now he is waiting to welcome Gazelle.\u201d\n\n The full moon was nearing the noonday of night,\n The waves sang the songs she had loved when a child,\n And her young, happy heart was elate with delight\n As they bore her away from her dear native wild.\n\n And as onward she sped at the tide\u2019s rapid pace,\n Alone with her heart and the heavens above,\n The silent stars looked on her young, sinless face,\n Too full of faith\u2019s pathos, with pity and love.\n\n For, far to the westward the winds were at war,\n And soon sudden darkness spread over the world,\n The waves were abroad with a hoarse, sullen roar\n And nearer and colder they eddied and curled.\n\n The moon and the stars with their stillness were gone,\n Red meteors darted anon through the dark,\n And fate seemed to hurry the hurricane on\n Where rocked on the billows a rudderless bark.\n\n When Neptune, near morning, the billows had bound\n And stars hung in heaven like spangles of gold,\n Deep down in the regions of silence profound\n A form, faintly human, lay lifeless and cold.\n\n But where, oh ye winds, is the maniac-maiden?\n And what of love\u2019s hopes that so often have lied?\n Let us trust she arrived at the red hunter\u2019s Aiden\n And greeted the warrior awaiting his bride.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVII\n\nQUINAIULTS AND QUILLAYUTES\n\n\nBeyond the black range of the Olympic mountains, which can be seen\nstanding out in such bold relief against the western horizon from the\nbluffs about the cities of the Sound on bright days, sits the little\nvillage of the Quinaiult Indians, whose last remnant of a once mighty\ntribe now scarce numbers a hundred persons. There\u2019s a long shingle of\nbeach, a glistening reach of sand, bright under the glare of summer suns,\nwith a broad sweep of salty bay, flecked here and there with a few jagged\nand black-looking rocks, the sporting ground of the sea otter the year\nround. Outside the line of pointed rocks the swells from the restless\nPacific ocean come tumbling in and are broken into white foam and dashing\nspray upon the rocks or, missing those roll on upon the beach and curl\nthe shimmering reach of sand into pretty riffles. At the rear is a dense\nbackground of forest that reaches far into the interior until it runs\nout at the timber line far up the sloping sides of the Olympics. The\nQuinaiult river rushes out through the tangle of forest past the village\nand pours its purling waters into the long stretch of bay, as if glad to\nescape from the imprisonment of woods and jungle. The little village is\nan ideal scene, one to swell the ambitions of the artist, and to please\nthe fancy of the legend-lover or the story teller. To the north\u2019ard many\nmiles and on clear days can be seen the jutting outline of Cape Flattery,\nthat most northwesterly point of land in these United States, and around\nwhose base the waters of the ocean surge and roll and never rest, and\nwhere, \u2019tis said, \u201ca day has never passed whereon it has not rained.\u201d\n\nTo the south\u2019ard is the long reach of coast land, with few breaks, that\nruns away into the distant perspective and finally loses itself in a\nhazy and blue horizon. Many, many moons ago, so runs the tradition of\nthe Quinaiults, their people were numbered by the thousands, and they\nheld a great power over other and adjacent tribes, above that of any\ntribe that inhabited all the coast lands thereabouts. But many changes\nhave taken place since the sun of the ancient Quinaiult was in the\nzenith. The warriors of the tribe lie buried in the dense copse and\nwood that feather-edge the great sand stretches of the ocean beach, and\na degenerated handful of men and women and children, a few dogs and\nchickens keep watch over the graves and cling to the little grass plats\nthat formed the nucleus of their once almost boundless domain. Worse\nfar, all their happy hunting grounds have been curtailed by a maternal\ngovernment until now but a stretch of ocean beach and a narrow breadth of\nmighty forest land is all that is left that they can call their own.\n\nOne street, crooked in a right angle half way in its length, serves the\nlittle village for a thoroughfare, aye, more than answers, for little use\nhave the handful of Quinaiults who are left for street or thoroughfare\nother than the naked beach. The ocean shore is their highway and the\ncedar canoe their favored and their only equipage, and they ask for\nnothing better.\n\nOf their habitations there is not much to attract except in their very\nquaintness. There are very few and as the years roll by there will be\nfewer still, for the Quinaiults will soon be known only in history or\nmusty tradition. Several of their rude structures, bare imitations\ncopied from the whites who have crowded them down upon the narrow beach,\nare raised on stilts or elevated foundations just out of reach of the\nturbulent tides. These raised structures are not, however, the rule, for\nthe larger number line the little foot-path out of reach of the restless\nwaters. The majority of the buildings have for the floor the mother\nearth. The exteriors generally are as rude as the floor. An ordinary barn\nfar outranks the unclassic habitation of the older Quinaiults, and even\nthe rising generation fails in its efforts to approach the rudest ideal\nof the Boston man.\n\nThe \u201crenaissance\u201d erections of Quinaiult and also the two government\nbuildings, for there is an agency on the ground, only serve to contrast\nwith the ultra-conservatism apparent in the greater portion of this\nveritable wind-washed place. Hand-riven cedar, now darkly stained and\nmoss-covered by age, rudely but snugly laid together after the fashion\nof a barn, describes the exterior. But within, what study! The colder\ncomfort of the exterior has vanished. There is little light, for there\nare no windows, and the smoke from the fire which burns somewhere within\nhides one\u2019s view. Gradually, however, one can see.\n\nThe household is generally squatting upon rush mats, with darkened faces\nand queer fashion presenting a strange picture illumined by the glow of\nthe small log fire. The most conspicuous of the group, perhaps, will be\nan old woman or older man of short stature and appearing broken down\nwith age. The rank growth of heavy gray hair, for all wear it to its\nfull length, covers almost entirely the small, wizened features, now\ncharacteristic of little but decrepitude and imbecility, but showing\na sharply receding forehead, sharp eyes, and small, regular teeth,\nyet preserved with fair whiteness; covered with a parti-colored shawl\nor blanket, clothed in an ordinary skirt and bodice, or with a dirty,\nfaded shirt, if it be a man, and decorated with ancient trinkets which\nhave dangled from the ears for perhaps a hundred years, forms one only\nof the old dames or graybeards who are found attached to the Quinaiult\nhousehold. If a squaw, her time is occupied stirring the contents of\nan iron kettle containing salmon, while other members of the family\nengage in mat-making or basket-weaving. One or two fat and naked little\nQuinaiults are also in view, playing with the domestic pets of all\nkinds\u2014chickens, cats and dogs. They are watched by the mother with a\ntruly maternal care. The latter displays, with average height but heavy\nproportions, a healthy, active form, indicating a strength not much\ninferior to that of her liege lord and husky-looking husband. Indeed, the\nwoman is built for the work in which she so exerts herself when poling in\nthe canoe on the rapids of her own Quinaiult river, for a long reach of\ntheir favorite stream running back into the hills the tribe holds as part\nof its own domain. Her features are full and round, of the usual Flathead\ntype, and display an intelligence immediately remarked in contrast\nwith her aged kindred. Though living in huts no better than stables or\nouthouses, she is contented, rather neat in attire and not unhappy.\n\nBut the truer type of the tribe, the head of the household, is also\nthere, a living study for the enthusiast\u2014a portrait not yet portrayed.\nHis face and his bearing recall the Indian stoic of romance and bring to\nmind the heroes of the sun dance. In youth this full-blooded nomad of\nthe water had slain three men in single-handed combat or accomplished\nother warlike deeds. There is some trace of thought in his countenance,\nand, notwithstanding the flat head he bears himself as a freeman. The\neye of the man is small and oblique, well lashed, and surmounted by\nheavy eyebrows. The nose is wide, not very prominent; mouth large, and\nof impressive line. His figure is well balanced\u2014a heavy frame covered\nby rounded flesh, not particularly sinewy. His negligee is a shirt\nonly\u2014there is no orthodox dress for the male portion of the tribe.\n\nTypes in the tribe are greatly varied at this late, or rather last,\nperiod of existence. The specific characteristic is the flat head.\n\nIn physique the Quinaiult cannot compare with his brother of the plains.\nHe has matured in the damp shadows of the forest and in the cramped\nlimits of the cedar canoe\u2014not on the boundless prairie. The group before\nus, however, shows signs of health and strength, without great vivacity.\n\nThe method of dining is as simple as the meal itself, for each of the\nfamily dips promiscuously into a kettle with a small ladle of horn.\nSalmon, often without other addition whatever to the bill of fare, is\nrelished to excess.\n\nSince the days to which their earliest tradition extends the lordly\nsalmon has graced the Quinaiult\u2019s frugal board. True the waters that wash\nup against his rude dwelling contain countless thousands of other fish,\nbut they never show themselves in the fresh water streams.\n\nOf game they have but little, and as the years go by what little they\nhave been used to gradually diminishes. Salmon is the chief staple diet\nand will continue to be so until the last Quinaiult has departed to the\nhappy fishing grounds.\n\nBesides the salmon and other fish the older Quinaiults lived upon the\nproducts as well of the forest and the stream, as do in a measure the\nremnant of the tribe now left. Encroaching civilization has driven the\ngame almost out of his reach now, for the Quinaiult is a hunter who\ndoesn\u2019t like trailing through the dense woods. He must now depend on a\nrelish from the garden of some sort to take the place of the juicy steaks\nof the game of the forest.\n\nIn the waters of the ocean they still seek the valuable sea otter, the\nseal, and sea lion, and at times the whale from which everything eatable\nalmost is sent to the larder. In the woods they still track the deer, the\nelk and the bear and trap the otter, the beaver and the mink at the river\nbrink, though had they still to depend upon these for sustenance they\nwould go to bed on half rations. The furs they secure, however, go a good\nways in keeping the proverbial wolf from the door of their hovels.\n\nIn the ocean and river chase, however, is where these redmen excel,\nfor they have literally been bred, born and brought up on the waters.\nBravery in the canoe, on the surf or in the rapid rivers where no other\ncraft can live, is the leading virtue of the Quinaiult. He will pack in\nhis ictas and his household, and course the waters of the river or the\ncoast and send the canoe spinning through the strongest currents that\nchase about the base of Flattery Rocks with the daring hardihood of a\nDohomian warrior in battle. He will course along the coastland in waters\nthat no ordinary vessel will attempt and seldom is it that the Quinaiult\npopulation is decreased by wrecks at sea.\n\nThe Quinaiult has no excessive love of life. He is stoic, living in the\nhope of the happy hunting or fishing ground, and a few years ago the\ncustom of slaying the pony of the dead at the grave was still practiced.\nIt is even now the custom to place the gold of the dead in the mouth\nand hands, burying it with them. \u201cThey will need it on the journey to\nthe happy hunting grounds,\u201d and the cupidity of the Quinaiult is never\naroused at the sight of gold when one of his people dies, for they like\nall other western Indians have an excessive love of family.\n\nAlong the somber banks of the Quinaiult river at this day are many\ngraves, bearing on the exterior, in decorative form, the minor personal\nbelongings of the body within. There were graves pointed out which were\nmade earlier than their tradition records and once graceful canoes of\ncedar placed above their dead owners are now crumbling into unshapely\nforms.\n\nMarriage is a simple institution of \u201ctake a wife and live with her.\u201d\n\nThe potlatch dance, or gift feast, is the year\u2019s social event at\nQuinaiult.\n\nUpon the acquirement of wealth the fortunate man issues a manifest to\nhis own and other tribes that it is his intention to hold a potlatch\nmerriment. He gives up his entire fortune, for he acquires thereafter the\ntitle of \u201ctyee\u201d or chief. Presents of all values are lavishly distributed\nto those who attend. It is a grotesque ceremony and lasts many days.\n\nThe superstition of the tribe forms a weird chapter. The medicine man is\nthe chief factor. He has in his possession hideously painted and carved\nwooden images, shamens of wonderful power in Quinaiult. Representing\ngrossly exaggerated human proportions, and of no merit as a work of art,\nthey bear no description. It is in sickness that these \u201cbig medicines,\u201d\nas they are called, are used by the doctor, who remains in practice\nagainst all devices of the evil one to suppress his power.\n\nOne of the latest affairs in which this big medicine was practiced,\nresulted in the death of three children, all of the same family, after\nmany weeks of noisy demonstration by the doctors. The father\u2019s wealth was\nspent in heavy payments to the medicine men, called by him from various\ntribes to administer to his sick girls, who at first showed nothing\nmore than the symptoms of a simple disease. In company with the doctors\nalso were many neighbors, who crowded the limited quarters of the sick\nroom to suffocation, in the performances of their wild orgies. Night\nand day would be heard the hoarse chant of the medicine men, chorused\nvociferously by the crowd, and the beating of the tom-tom drum. The young\nones lay helpless and unattended, without hope or chance of recovery.\n\nFew strangers pass through the village without hearing the noise of the\ntom-tom, and the chant of death at the sick bed. However trifling the\ncomplaint the medicine man is called and heavily recompensed for his\nservices.\n\nThe indulgence of superstition, however, is better illustrated by the\nrecent conduct of the unhappy mother of a child which became slightly\nsick. The incident happened during one of the cold and stormy nights of\nwinter. Darkness had long announced the hour of sleep when a wailing\ncry was heard coming from the side of the river, where nothing but a\nforest-covered bluff exists. The cry was one almost of agony and was\ncontinued throughout the night. At times the wail of woe would be borne\naway by the soughing of the woods in the gale or be drowned by the roar\nof breakers close at hand. No light was seen. With the faith of a fanatic\nand endurance of a mother\u2019s love the mourner spent the night alone in\nthe cold and rain, wrapped in no cover but a single blanket, in the\nbelief that the evil spirit would not find her babe in the darkness. The\nstrange faith of the woman is paralleled by the worship practiced by an\nold medicine man, still living, of the tribe. In a dilapidated dwelling\nthe Indian erected a charred hemlock pole of slight dimensions, securing\nthereto a covering of eagle and other feathers. The idol was complete\nin its simplicity and exemplified a tradition of the medicine man\u2019s\npower. Its significance, however, remains buried within the bosom of\nthe taciturn worshiper. For days and nights he knelt beside this strange\ndesign without eating, without sleeping, but partly chanting, partly\ntalking, with earnest gesture and uplifted face, he called up the mystery\nof his superstition.\n\nThe great highway of the tribe, next to the ocean itself, is the swiftly\nflowing Quinaiult river, up which they run their light canoes to the lake\nof the same name. In the summer and sometimes, too, when the snow whitens\nthe upper lying forests, the canoe highway is relinquished and the Indian\ntakes the trail through the woods or over the mountains. From the lake of\nQuinaiult, resting in the foothills of the Olympics, within hearing of\nthe ocean\u2019s roar, many trails are blazed to camps, made long years ago,\nwhere fat elk have been butchered and dried by the Indians.\n\nThe mountains form the summer\u2019s paradise of the tribe. It is there that\nbands of elk may be seen gamboling on the unmelted snow in the glare\nof the sun; and the black bear may be seen in numbers feeding on the\nluxurious wild berries. But the lake itself, perhaps, is regarded by the\nIndians as their greatest natural treasure. The year round it is the\nhaunt of numerous kinds of salmon, tempted there from the ocean to spawn.\nThousands of trout may be seen also in its transparent depths and wild\nfowl flock to its inviting feeding grounds in great numbers from all\nclimes. At times, too, a deer makes its way from bank to bank. It is an\nideal spot, but will not much longer be the domain of the Quinaiult tribe.\n\nThe interior of the Quinaiult hut is more interesting than the outside.\nIn the smoke and dull light the details of the house are almost\ninvisible. The mountings of a rack of firearms, seven or eight in number,\nattract inquiry as they glimmer in the firelight. They are relics of many\nyears with the exception of one or two. The most ancient is a flint-lock,\nof immense bore and short barrel, the stock being inlaid with native work\nof bone. Another is an old muzzle-loading Kentucky rifle standing as\nhigh as the hunter himself; and of more recent date is the old reliable\nSharp\u2019s, picked up by the present generation in their migrations to the\nhop fields on Puget Sound or in barter.\n\nHere and there many things tell of the chase\u2014the short thick string bow\nof Alaska cedar, together with a quiver of feathered arrows, steel traps\nand the salmon and otter spears (fir poles an inch in diameter and 18\nfeet long) mounted with two keen points of elk or deer horn, and secured\nby thongs of rawhide, and a dozen other curious relics. The domestic\nbelongings of the family are within the building. Canoe poles of young\nhemlock and the strong, light and gracefully made paddles of native\nyew-wood are stowed away under the roof. Hanging on the walls are rush\nmats, clam baskets and more fancifully-designed baskets delicately weaved\nof dyed spruce roots, forming one of the more profitable pastimes of the\nwomen. Relics of the hunt, hides, furs, tanned skins, horns and skulls\nare in every odd corner. Fresh meats and fresh salmon are hung in the\ncool shade without the house. Salmon is also hung up to dry in the sun\nwithout, and masses of salmon are hanging from the rafters within, curing\nby smoke from the daily fires. Salmon aroma is everywhere.\n\nThere is no furniture proper. The family beds are laid upon platforms\nraised a few inches from the floor, with a few rush mats for mattresses.\nThe appearance of the whole interior is primitive to a degree. It is a\nstudy on nature\u2019s own farm.\n\nProbably of all their pastimes the sea otter chase lends the greatest\nexcitement and shows the Quinaiult Indian at his best. The otter loves\nthe surf that tosses about around and over the jutting rocks that fringe\na few islands out in the bay in front of the village. Strong tides rush\nin eddying currents between the rocks and the shore line, and following\nthese the Quinaiult pushes his sea boat out on the leeward side of the\nrocks and meets the glossy-coated animal in his most pleasant haunt. The\nsmoothbore is now used largely by the present hunters, but the spear once\nformed the only weapon used in the chase as the bow and quiver did on\nland.\n\nThe Quinaiult builds himself a lookout on shore and a sentinel is at all\nconvenient times perched up aloft with his gaze seaward, on the lookout\nfor any object of the chase by sea. When a whale or otter or a herd of\nseals is spied the sentinel gives the warning and all able-bodied members\nof the tribe rush for the fleet of canoes always drawn up on the beach.\n\nFew ships appear in the offing and fewer steam vessels beat the waters\nalong the shoreline, for Quinaiult is nearly midway between Gray\u2019s harbor\nand the entrance to the straits at Cape Flattery. There are no roads\nleading across country to the distant settlements on the Sound, and\nQuinaiult is therefore a lonesome place. The white settler is encroaching\nupon the Quinaiult, but his life must be largely an extension of the\nnative\u2019s for many years to come until the friendly railroad reaches\nhim\u2014if it ever does.\n\n[Illustration: QUINIAULTS HUNTING HAIR SEAL]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVIII\n\nTRADITION OF A GREAT INDIAN BATTLE\n\n\nThe Puget Sound Indians have a tradition of a great battle in which the\nQuillayutes were almost annihilated:\n\n[Illustration: COPPER AND IRON DAGGERS, MOOSE HIDE SHEATH-SOUND INDIANS]\n\nFor many years in the early days of the country, as early as 1869,\nresidents of what is now Jefferson county were puzzled over the vast\nnumber of human bones, principally skulls, that lay scattered about the\nbeach not far from the military post that had been established at Port\nTownsend. That a great Indian battle had been fought and great slaughter\nmade by the defeated, was plain but where and by whom was a mystery. The\nIndians then resident near the post were mysterious and non-committal on\nthe subject and their chiefs smoked and were mute. The noted paper chief,\nDuke of York, though the heydey of his power was gone, was still an\nimportant personage among the Indians and settlers and from him Mr. J. A.\nKuhn, then residing at Port Townsend, decided to obtain the information\nso much desired. Strategy alone could succeed; mild persuasion had been\ntried often and by various ones. The great chief of the Clallam tribe\npersistently refused to tell and insisted vehemously that he could not\naccount for the presence of the human relics. However, Mr. Kuhn one day\ninduced the old chief to accompany him to an island in the Sound to\nsearch for shells, leaving the chief\u2019s two wives, Jenny and Queen, who\nwere always his traveling companions, at home. While there, Mr. Kuhn\nafter all endeavors to get the Indian to divulge the story of the battle\nhad failed, told the chief to call at his home on a certain day and he\nwould show him a sign from heaven and prove to the Indians that he was\nno ordinary being and that if the Duke did not tell him all he knew of\nthe massacre he would cause the chief and his people great trouble. The\nnoble old Indian with a large retinue of followers was on hand at Mr.\nKuhn\u2019s house on the day appointed. Mr. Kuhn\u2019s trick was the old one of\nbringing on the darkness, and the untutored and savage mind was to be\nawed by an eclipse. The white man\u2019s power of foretelling being ascribed\nto the supernatural and a direct connection with the spirits that control\nall things on the earth and in the sky. It was known to Mr. Kuhn that on\nthe day set for the appearance at his house of the old Indian there would\nbe an eclipse of the sun sufficient in importance to overawe the mind of\nthe chief and compel him to tell the story from fear. When the eclipse\noccurred the old chief readily complied and told the story of a great\nmassacre of the people of the Quillayute tribe whose possessions extended\nalong the Pacific ocean south of Cape Flattery and joining on the straits\nthat of the Clallam tribe over which the old Duke reigned on the east.\n\n[Illustration: TWANA WAR CLUBS]\n\nThe Clallams claimed all the shore of the country extending from Pysht on\nthe straits of Fuca to Hood\u2019s canal. The Quillayutes had invaded part of\nthe ground claimed by the old Indian and his tribe. They hunted in their\nwoods, fished for their salmon and dug their clams without permission.\nHatred for them soon caused the Duke of York to plot their extermination.\nThe Clallam tribe not being strong enough of themselves to make war upon\nthe invaders, the crafty old chief sent emissaries to the Skagit tribe\nto induce them to enter with him upon a war. The mission was successful\nand a number of their allies prepared to commence the slaughter of the\nunsuspecting enemy. The Quillayutes at the time were encamped upon the\nbeach fishing and merry-making all unconscious of the terrible fate\nso soon to overtake them. They were there with all their ictas, their\npapooses scampering about the white sands, or scudding through the woods\nin the rear while the death-dealing Duke of York was planning their\ndestruction. The Skagit Indians brought on the attack by appearing in\nfront of the peaceful Quillayute camp in canoes, yelling and hooting to\nattract the attention of the enemy and bring them all out and down to\nthe beach. The old Duke of York and his warriors, who were hidden in the\nwoods in the rear, rushed out of their hiding places and the slaughter\nbegan. The Skagit warriors landed and the battle was soon raging\nfiercely. The attacking parties were too strong and the Quillayutes were\nsoon at their mercy. The battle lasted but a short time and soon there\nwas not a Quillayute brave left. There is nothing to mark the site of the\ngreat slaughter at this day save a few ghastly skulls whose wide eyeless\nsockets stare up at the passerby from their bed of gravel on the beach.\nPicnics are now held on the old battle ground and it sometimes happens\nwhile some young lady and her lover stroll about the shaded paths, or\nseated on some mystic seat their tete-a-tete is interrupted by a sudden\nview of one of these mementoes of the once numerous tribe of Quillayutes.\n\n[Illustration: A QUINIAULT HUT]\n\nAnother account which seems to cover much the same similar occurrence at\nthe same place gives it that the tribe of the Duke of York were massacred\nwith the exception of a very few. This took place, so it is related, when\nthe old Duke was a small Indian about 14 years of age. The assailants\nwere Sitkas, T\u2019Klinkit or some other band of Alaska Indians who came by\nthe way of Oak bay, near Ludlow, across the spit to the present site of\nHadlock, caught the Clallams asleep and killed some 600 of them. It is\nclaimed that the remains are still discoverable at that point. As the\nDuke was about 80 when he died some years ago, this must have taken place\nbetween 1820 and 1825.\n\nThe first raid affecting the white population of the Sound was when a\ncrowd of T\u2019Klinkits (or in this case probably some more southerly tribe)\ncame to Whidby island in 1855 and murdered Colonel Ebey, then collector\nof customs for the Puget Sound district. They not only murdered him, but\nbeheaded him. Several of his posterity are now living and can give full\nfacts in this case.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIX\n\nSEALTH AND THE ALLIED TRIBES\n\n\nSealth, second chief of the allied tribes in early days and previously\nof the Squamish and Duwamish, was the greatest Indian character of the\ncountry. Like the historic chief of the Mingoes, he was a friend of the\nwhite man and enemies he had none. A statesman and not a warrior he\nswayed the minds of his people with the magic of oratory rather than\nof war. Without a knowledge of the polyglot language common to all the\ntribes and the early white men, he was able by his superiority of mind\nto mould the turbulent and warlike spirits about him to his way of\nthinking, and to not only control them individually but to unite them\ninto one grand peace union and to ever after maintain over them against\nall opposition a power as potent for good as the spirit and nature of\nthe one who prompted it. Many chiefs who had before enjoyed chiefship\nwithout hinderance and directed and controlled his people at his own\nsweet will yielded to the superior power of Sealth, acted his part after\nthe federation only as a lieutenant or sub-chief. Many old-timers yet\nsurvive who enjoyed the friendship of the old chief. Samuel F. Coombs,\nwho probably has as intimate a knowledge of the early Indians as any one\nliving, says of the old chief Sealth:\n\n\u201cThe first time I ever saw Chief Sealth was in the summer of 1860,\nshortly after my arrival, at a council of chiefs in Seattle. At that time\nthere was an unusually large number of Indians in town, over 1000 of them\nbeing congregated on the sandy beach. Most of the Indians were standing\naround talking in groups or listening to the deliberations of the council\nof about twenty of the oldest Indians seated in a circle on the ground.\nThe chief figure was a venerable-looking old native, who was apparently\nacting as judge, as all who spoke addressed themselves to him. Matters\nof grave importance were evidently being discussed, and I was greatly\nimpressed with the calm and dignified manner in which the old judge\ndisposed of the matter in dispute and the great attention and respect\nshown him when speaking. From an intelligent-looking Indian who could\nspeak English I learned that the old judge was Chief Seattle, or, as he\nwas then known, Sealth, and that those seated about him were ex-chiefs\nand leading Indians of the various tribes then living about here. Among\nthem were Seattle Curley from the mouth of the Duwamish; Tecumseh, from\nthe Black river; Shilshole Curley, from Salmon bay; Lake John from Lake\nWashington, and Kitsap, from Kitsap county.\n\n[Illustration: Chief SEALTH\n\nSEATTLE\n\nRAPHAEL \u00b7 COOMBS \u00b7 95 \u00b7]\n\n\u201cWith this young man as an interpreter I interviewed several of the\noldest natives as to how Sealth became head chief of so many tribes.\nThey said that about fifty years before that time, when Sealth was 20 or\n22 years old, news reached the various tribes in this vicinity that a\nlarge number of the mountain or upper Green and White river Indians were\npreparing to make a raid upon the salt water tribes. Great anxiety was\nfelt among the latter, as the mountain tribes were redoubtable warriors,\nand had on several previous occasions vanquished the salt water tribes\nand carried off many of their people as slaves. Accordingly a council of\nwar, composed of the chiefs and leading warriors of the tribes expecting\nto be attacked, met at the Old-Man-House near Port Madison. This place\nwas the principal rendesvous of these tribes for potlatches and councils.\nAt this council many plans were discussed as to the best method of\nresisting the invaders. None of those suggested by the older men,\nhowever, was satisfactory, and then the younger men were called upon for\nsuggestions. At length young Sealth, a member of the Old-Man-House tribe,\npresented his plan, and it was so well devised and so clearly presented,\nthat without listening to any others, it was adopted and he was appointed\nto carry t out, being given command of the expedition.\n\n\u201cInformation had reached the salt water tribes that a large force of\nthe mountain tribes intended to come down the Green and White rivers in\ncanoes and inaugurate their attack at night. Sealth organized a band\nof warriors, and the day before the raid was expected they went up the\nriver to a place on White river, near where John Fountain now lives above\nBlack river bridge, and where the bluff on one side reaches to the river\nedge. The river here makes a short bend, and the current is very swift.\nA little below the bend a large fir tree standing on the bank was felled\nin such a way that it reached across the river and lay only a few inches\nabove the water, so that no canoe could go under without upsetting. The\nwork of felling the tree was done with rude axes, some made of stone,\nand it took the band nearly the whole day to bring it down and get it\ninto position, which was finally accomplished before sunset. Sealth then\nambushed his warriors, armed with bows and arrows, lances, tomahawks\nand knives, on either side of the stream, and confidently awaited the\ninvaders.\n\n\u201cAs soon as it was dusk five large canoes loaded with 100 selected\nwarriors started down the stream, and as there was a strong current it\nwas not long before they fell into the trap. The leading canoes were\nsuccessively swamped before their occupants could realize the nature of\nthe obstruction. The cries of their unfortunate companions, however,\nenabled those in the last two canoes to reach the shore before coming to\nthe log. In the meantime thirty of the occupants of the leading canoes\nwere either drowned, killed or captured by Sealth\u2019s warriors, and those\nwho reached shore in safety betook themselves up the river again, and\ntheir account of the disaster which had befallen their companions so\ndiscouraged the remainder of the expedition that they retired to their\nmountain homes.\n\n\u201cWhen Sealth and his warriors returned to the bay with such substantial\nproofs of the victory gained over their former persecutors great was the\nrejoicing among the salt water tribes and the hero of the hour was the\nyoung warrior who, by his cleverness, boldness and courage, had delivered\nthem from a great danger. A grand council of the tribes was called,\ncomposed of the chiefs and leading warriors and medicine men from the\nfollowing six tribes: Old-Man-House, Moxliepush, Duwamish, Black River,\nShilshole and Lake, whose chiefs were Kitsap, Seattle Curley, Tecumseh,\nSalmon Bay Curley and Lake John, Seattle Curley being chief of both the\nMoxliepush and the Duwamish tribes. At this council Sealth was made\ngreat chief of all the tribes and the former chiefs became tyees, or\nsub-chiefs. The Moxliepush, Black River and Lake tribes, however, did\nnot consent to a consolidation and Sealth, having assumed the authority\nconferred upon him by the majority, determined to make his authority\nrespected by all. He organized an expedition composed of the bravest of\nhis followers and made a tour of the three rebellious tribes, going by\nway of Shilshole and Salmon bays, Lake Union and across the portage to\nLake Washington and thence to Black river and back to Old-Man-House.\nThough prepared to give battle if necessary he subdued his opponents by\ndiplomacy. He held councils at various places on his route, made speeches\nto the tribesmen and won them over from their chiefs, and when they had\nsubmitted he took a number of hostages from each tribe along with him.\nIn this way he gained the submission of all the rebellious chiefs and\ntribesmen without fighting a battle or killing a man. When the first\nwhite man came here Chief Sealth had quite a number of these hostages,\nwho were called slaves by the other Indians, but who were not treated any\ndifferently, so far as the whites could observe, than the other Indians.\nIndeed, many of these so called slaves afterwards became Chief Sealth\u2019s\nprincipal lieutenants.\n\n\u201cAfter Chief Sealth had consolidated the tribes and enforced his right to\nthe chieftainship, he still further strengthened his influence over the\ntribes by checking other raids by unfriendly tribes from the north and\nsouth, and concluded treaties of friendship with them. He even carried\nhis wise rule so far as to anticipate the formation of the Chinook\nlanguage by the Hudsons Bay traders by so adapting the several distinct\ndialects then prevailing amongst the different tribes scattered over a\nlarge area, that at length they could converse with one another, where\nbefore they could not. Thus he brought about the formation of a language\ncommon to all the tribes from the Snohomish and Snoqualmie as far south\nand west as Olympia.\n\n\u201cBy his great exploits in war, his wisdom and prudence in council,\nand the nobility of his character, Chief Sealth obtained a wonderful\ninfluence over all the natives in this section, whether belonging to his\ntribes or to others. And thus it was that, when I first saw him, his deep\nvoice, slow and grave speech were listened to with such marked deference\nand respect by all. He was the supreme arbiter in their disputes, and\nhis decisions were accepted as final and conclusive and carried out with\nunquestioning obedience. Having early been converted to the Catholic\nfaith, he introduced and successfully carried out many moral reforms\namong his people. He reprimanded them often for drunkenness, fighting and\ntheir loose sexual relations with the whites. He was a great peacemaker\nand always avoided bloodshed whenever possible. He even undertook\nto subvert the ancient traditional customs of his race in regard to\nbloody retaliation for mortal wrongs, and to inculcate among his people\nChristian principles.\n\n\u201cThough a man of great natural abilities, Chief Sealth never learned\neither the Chinook or the English languages; nor did any of the older\nIndians whom I knew. An interpreter was always necessary whenever any of\nthe whites wished to converse with him. In appearance he was dignified,\nbut somewhat bent with age when I knew him, and at that time he always\nwalked with a staff in his hand. He looked like a superior man among his\npeople. Though the top of his head had been flattened in childhood, the\nmalformation was not so apparent as it was in all the other old Indians\nof his day. During the summer months and when I first saw him he wore but\na single garment. That was a Hudsons Bay company\u2019s blanket, the folds of\nwhich he held together with one hand, and from their midst appeared the\nbroad chest and strong arm of bronze which grasped his staff. The sketch\nherewith represented the old chief as he appeared on the streets of\nSeattle thirty-four years ago.\n\n\u201cThe later years of Chief Sealth were passed at his headquarters at the\nOld-Man-House in Kitsap county, near Port Madison, and in visiting the\ntribes, administering justice, reproof and counsel to his devoted people.\nHe was often in Seattle, where he was respected by all the white people.\nThe Old-Man-House, where he resided was a famous gathering place for the\nnatives from all over the Sound, and some of the potlatches held there\nhave been attended by as many as 8,000 Indians. I saw one there at which\nthere was fully 1,500 present.\n\n\u201cAfter a long illness, during which the old chief was frequently visited\nby natives and early white settlers from all over the Sound, he died at\nthe Old-Man-House. His funeral was attended by several hundred white\npeople and by more of his own people. G. A. Meigs, proprietor of the\nPort Madison mill, shut down his mill and on his steamer took all the\nemployes and others over to the funeral. A great many also went over\nfrom Seattle. As the old chief was a Catholic he was buried with the\nceremonies of that church, mingled with which were customs peculiar\nto the natives. The ceremonies were imposing and impressive, and the\nchanting of the litanies by the native singers was very beautiful.\n\n\u201cDuring his life Chief Sealth had two or three successive wives, but he\ndid not have many children.\n\n\u201cPrincess Angeline was his only child by his first wife. When I first\nknew her she was a washerwoman for the white people, among whom she was a\ngreat favorite, and although she was a buxom widow and not bad-looking,\nshe was always esteemed as a virtuous, good woman. She had a daughter who\nmarried a half-breed, and by whom she had a son, now living, named Joe\nFoster. His parents died early and old Angeline has reared him, slaved\nfor him and begged for him. She has gotten him out of many scrapes and\nher whole heart is wrapped up in the boy, \u2018My papa\u2019s great-grandchild.\u2019\n\n\u201cAngeline had a half-sister who married a chief on Lake Samamish and died\nsome time ago, but I don\u2019t know any more about her. I think Chief Sealth\nalso left by his last wife a son, who is now living at Old-Man-House.\nThis son has a grandson there who is a dwarf. He is 20 years old and is\nonly thirty inches tall, is very bright, well formed, talks English and\nis the pet of all the Indians on the reservation.\n\n\u201cDuring the past thirty-three years I have on many occasions endeavored\nto learn from the oldest and most intelligent Indians something of their\nearlier recollections; for instance as to when the heaviest earthquake\noccurred. They said that one is said to have occurred a great many years\nbefore any white men had ever been seen here, when mam-ook ta-mahn-a-wis\nwas carried on by hundreds. This is the same performance they go through\nwhen they are making medicine men, and consists of shouting, singing,\nbeating on the drums and sticks and apparently trying to make as much\nnoise as they can. While making a medicine man I have seen upwards of 100\npainted Indians driving on the streets here a young man stripped nearly\nnaked, with a long lariat fastened to a girdle around his waist. At one\ntime it took them over a week to make a ta-mahn-a-wis man of the fellow\nthey were driving. After he became supernaturally fixed he came near\ndying, and old Dr. Maynard, the only physician then in town, was called\nin to give him a dose of civilized medicine.\n\n\u201cThe only total eclipse of the sun visible here during the past\nthirty-four years occurred about twenty-five years ago during a clear\nafternoon. The white settlers were preparing their smoked glasses.\nEx-Chief Lake John happened to come by about that time, and I told him\nin Chinook that the sun was to be darkened in about an hour from that\ntime. He very sharply inquired how I knew, and I told him I was in klosh\ntum-tum with the Sah-ha-le tyee, or that I was on good terms with God.\nHe laughed heartily at such a ridiculous notion, but when the sun began\nto be obscured I handed him a piece of smoked glass, and after looking\nthrough it he became very grave, and looking at the sky in amazement he\nsaid with great seriousness, \u2018De-late mi-ka cum-tux,\u2019 you have told the\ntruth. When the eclipse became total the howling and pounding of drums\nover at Plummer\u2019s point, where the Indians were assembled, could be heard\nall over town.\n\n\u201cIn 1880, when the deep snow occurred in January, there being over four\nfeet of the beautiful, I inquired of an old Indian if he had ever seen\nsnow so deep before, and he said no, but that his father had told him\nthat there was one fall of snow many years before which was equal to it.\nLake Union has been frozen all over twice, and a number of times has\nformed two to five inches thick in sheltered places of the lake. Only\ntwice since 1856 has it been as cold as it was this winter.\n\n\u201cA son of Pat Kanim, the old chief of the Snoqualmies, who now lives on\nthe Tulalip reservation, told me that his father had been a good, true\nfriend of the whites during the Indian war, and he corroborated what A.\nA. Denny has said in his history of that war. He said that Mr. Denny had\nwith good reason placed confidence in his father, notwithstanding that\nothers thought he was not worthy of it. He said that Leschi and Nelson\nwere the leaders in the massacre near Slaughter, where eight whites\nwere killed in 1855. These were the same tribes that had attempted the\nraid fifty years before which Chief Sealth foiled, and the same which\nattacked the town of Seattle in 1856. This time they came across Lake\nWashington instead of down the river, landing their canoes where is now\nlocated Leschi park. They had not forgotten Sealth\u2019s plan of resisting an\ninvasion by the river route.\u201d\n\nTo Dr. Maynard it is said belongs the honor of naming the city of Seattle\nafter the old chief and also of conferring the name Angeline on his\ndaughter.\n\nThere is one descendant of the old chief who is at once the pride and\nthe one particular character of the Queen City today. That descendant is\nAngeline, daughter of the old chief; Princess Angeline she is called.\nShe is not courtly or noble in bearing and never showed any superior\npowers of intellect, indeed, it is not saying too much to say that to the\npresent residents who know her she does not exhibit even average Indian\nintelligence, though great and enfeebled old age may in a measure account\nfor it. Angeline had a revelation last year when she was shown a painting\nof the old chief, life size and true to the original. It is said of her\nthat at least she showed that she had a tender memory and soft heart, for\nshe cried and went about the streets muttering in her Indian way: \u201cUtch\ni-dah, utch-i-dah; nika papa hias klosh.\u201d Wonderful! wonderful! good\npicture of Sealth.\n\nPoor old Angeline. Bent, decrepit and carrying the weight of 80 years\nwith an effort, she still possessed a heart full of tenderness that could\nonly find relief in a flood of tears.\n\nLong, long ago it had been that old Angeline saw the royal old chieftain,\nher father, for the last time. Only in her Indian memory had she communed\nwith him who was once lord of all around in the neighborhood of Elliott\nbay. But now she stood face to face once more and looked into the kindly\nface of the old chief, who has been dead these many years. It was Chief\nSealth, life size, as he appeared thirty-five or forty years ago, with\nhis big, blue-bordered Hudsons Bay company blanket hanging in Grecian\nfolds from his dusky shoulders. No wonder poor old Angeline cried and\nsobbed and broke down in the rush of tender recollections that must have\nfilled her old soul. No wonder she exclaimed: \u201cUtch-i-dah! utch-i-da!\nnika papa hias klosh.\u201d\n\nIt was her old-time friend Samuel Coombs, the pioneer, who took old\nAngeline to see the picture of the old chief, painted by Mr. Coombs\u2019 son\nRaphael for the chamber of commerce of this city. Angeline, the last\nsurvivor of the old chief\u2019s family, did not know what was wanted of her,\nbut she knew that her old friend meant her no harm and she trudged along,\nmuttering in her peculiar guttural Indian dialect until she came plunk\nupon the big painting. It shows the old chief as he first appeared to the\nwhites about 40 years ago, standing erect with a big shock of raven hair,\na broad face, kindly eye and the picture of a perfect Indian, showing in\na marked degree the great intelligence the old chief is known to have\npossessed. He is as nature found him, bereft of ornament save the big\ngray blanket with its broad border of blue about his shoulders.\n\nAngeline\u2019s judgment ought to be taken as to the merits of the picture.\nShe pronounces it good, very good, and it will probably become the one\ngreat memento of the now vanished royal rule that prevailed over the\nwoods and bays and tribes hereabouts before the white man came and took\npossession. In the perspective of the picture are the snowy lines of\nthe grand Olympic mountains, looking very pretty and true to reality.\nAngeline leaned against the counter and cried till her Indian tears fell\nthick and fast. \u201cNika papa hias klosh,\u201d she muttered as she turned away\ntowards the door and then trudged off down the street, but not for long.\nShe trudged back for another look and many times during the afternoon she\npassed and repassed the window, muttering that it was good, and peeking\nthrough the big plate windows, for the picture had been set therein for\nthe passerby to look at. Young Coombs\u2019 picture is from a photograph of\nthe old chief furnished by the old pioneer, Hon. A. A. Denny, taken years\nago.\n\nTo the older settlers Angeline\u2019s name was given by some of the Indians\nas Wee-wy-eke and by herself as Kakii-Silma; very pretty names both of\nthem. A daughter of Angeline, known to the whites by the unpretentious\nname of Betsey, had the prettily sounding Indian name of Che-wa-tum.\n\nThere is another little painting by young Coombs, just as full of\ninterest as that of the old chief. It is a reproduction in oil of the\nold log cabin, the first log cabin built by the white settlers forty or\nmore years ago, on Alki point. The picture is from a sketch taken a dozen\nyears ago while yet the old log hut was in a state of preservation and it\nis said to be a very realistic likeness. The picture is now the property\nof Mr. Denny and he treasures it as one of his most valued mementoes.\n\nIn his little book, \u201cPioneer Days on Puget Sound,\u201d Mr. Denny, speaking of\nthe first log house says:\n\n\u201cOur first work was to provide shelter for the winter, and we finished\nthe house begun by brother and Lee Terry for J. N. Low, and took shelter\nin it from the rain, which was falling more or less every day; but we\ndid not regard it with much concern and seldom lost any time on that\naccount. We next built a log house for myself, which increased our room\nvery materially and made all more comfortable. We had now used up all the\ntimber suitable for log houses, which we could get without a team, and\nwe split cedar and built houses for Bell and Boren, which we considered\nquite a fancy, but not so substantial as log houses. About the time we\nhad completed our winter quarters, the brig Leonesa, Captain Daniel S.\nHoward, came to anchor in the bay. Seeing that the place was inhabited by\nwhites, the captain came ashore seeking a cargo of piles, and we readily\nmade a contract to load the vessel. We had no team at the time, but some\nof us went to work cutting the timber nearest the water, and rolled and\nhauled in by hand, while Lee Terry went up Sound and obtained a yoke of\noxen, which he drove on the beach from Puyallup with which to complete\nthe cargo, but we had made very considerable progress by hand before his\narrival.\n\n\u201cAlki point had not been a general camping place for the Indians, but\nsoon after we landed and commenced clearing the land, they commenced to\ncongregate and continued coming until we had over 1,000 in our midst and\nmost of them remained all winter. Some of them built their houses very\nnear ours, even on the ground we had cleared, and although they seemed\nvery friendly towards us, we did not feel safe in objecting to their\nbuilding, and it was very noticeable that they regarded their proximity\nto us as a protection against other Indians.\u201d\n\nLittle more than one generation ago, at a date which would extend quite\nbeyond the date birth of very many people in Seattle, there was assembled\non the neck of land known as Elliott point, Alki point, Duwamish head\nand West Seattle, or as the Indians called it Squ-ducks, a large band of\nIndians and a great pow wow was going on.\n\nOne thousand natives of the Duwamish and other tribes with a few\nstragglers from distant local tribes were assembled and sat about their\nsmouldering fires, lounged lazily in brown-colored canoes or were snoring\nunder rakish tents much as the Indians of today do about Ballast island\nor the hop fields.\n\nAll was excitement.\n\nHistory records the fact that the day was a beautiful one, a brilliant\nsun shedding a brilliant light over a most primeval and rural scene.\n\n[Illustration: OLDEST HOUSE IN KING COUNTY\u2014J. W. MAPLE\u2019S, WHITE RIVER]\n\nOver all this vast congregation of God\u2019s simple-minded children there\nruled a chief\u2014old Chief Sealth\u2014then a patriarch, aged, yet stately and\ndignified; an Indian simple and untutored, though yet an orator of the\nhighest rank.\n\nOld Chief Sealth, a name honored and revered even at that early day; a\nname since become historic and wreathed with an enduring, undying fame.\n\nIt was at a day when the flames of Indian warfare were beginning to\nsmoulder after a long seige of war, of ambush and bloodshed on Puget\nSound, though the old patriarch of the forest, Chief Sealth, had\nrefrained from lending a hand in the bloody work of his tribal relations\nand neighbors. He, like many of the proud chieftains in the earlier\nsettlement of the Atlantic and middle states, stood by the white men\u2014the\ninvaders we might say\u2014when their brethren wore the war paint and carried\nthe scalp-lock at their girdle.\n\nOn this historic day old Sealth sat gloomily down in front of his wigwam\nwaiting in stolid indifference for the coming of the Boston man, who was\nto treat with him that day and bring him news from the great white chief\nat Washington.\n\nAt last the great white chief\u2019s agent, Colonel M. T. Simmons, made his\nappearance, coming from the direction of Olympia, and landed in front of\nthe staid old Siwash chief\u2019s camp. The ceremony of an introduction was\ngone through with in the Chinook jargon, Colonel Simmons being a master\nin that tongue, and being an emissary of the government of much repute\namong the Indians.\n\nWe can imagine the old chief receiving in his dignified, though simple\nstyle, this messenger from the government. We of today might clothe\nour imagination with the vision of Princess Angeline, the old chief\u2019s\ndaughter, then a maiden of comely, though dusky, looks, standing\nrespectfully near and listening, possibly in eagerness, to this bartering\naway of her father\u2019s domain\u2014her own heritage\u2014to the stranger.\n\nPrincess Angeline now broken and enfeebled by 40 years of care and bitter\nmemories, yet lives by that same seaside and almost within sight of the\nidentical spot whereon that great pow wow was held. Well for poor old\nAngeline that her sensibilities are stunted and seared, that time has\ngraciously smothered any remembrance of those days of freedom, when none\nbut her people and kindred owned and traversed these woods and waters.\n\nBut to the story.\n\nColonel Simmons had left Olympia on the 15th day of May, 1858, to visit\nthe several Indian tribes on Puget Sound and conclude the treaties with\nthem and arrange for the disbursement of annuities and provisions. The\ncommissioner had first called at Fort Kitsap, G. A. Page local agent,\nwhere some 400 Indians waited for him. Colonel Simmons, after the\npreliminaries necessary for such an august occasion, was the first to\naddress the assemblage of chiefs and Indians. His speech was in Chinook\nand no interpreter was needed. He referred to the promises that had been\nmade and which were about to be realized, and wound up with the reference\nat the close of his speech to the propensities of the Indian for rum and\nthe evil effects therefrom.\n\nThe venerable old chief being first in authority among the assembled\nred men, was the first to speak. With the dignity becoming the occasion\nand the position of a great chief, he arose, wrapped his heavy blanket\nmore closely about his shoulders, and began his address. The reference\nof Colonel Simmons to the Indian thirst for strong drink touched the old\nman\u2019s quick, though he did not show it by any outward sign or expression\nof feature. No, old Chief Sealth was too august, too grand for that.\nColonel Simmons would learn of his displeasure, but in a manner and with\nweapons of his own choice. Sealth would show that he was an orator.\nTranslated, he said:\n\n\u201cI am not a bad man; I want you to understand what I say; I do not drink\nrum; neither does New-E-Chis, (another chief present) and we continually\nadvise our people not to do so.\n\n\u201cI am and always have been a friend to the whites. I listen to what Mr.\nPage (the resident agent) says to me, and I do not steal nor do any of my\npeople steal from the whites.\n\n\u201cOh, Mr. Simmons, why do not our papers come back to us? You always say\nthey will come back, but they do not come. I fear that we are forgotten\nor that we are to be cheated out of our land.\n\n\u201cI have been very poor and hungry all winter and am very sick now. In a\nlittle while I will die. I should like to be paid for my lands before I\ndie. Many of my people died during the cold winter without getting their\npay. When I die my people will be very poor\u2014they will have no property,\nno chief and no one to talk for them. You must not forget them, Mr.\nSimmons, when I am gone.\n\n\u201cWe are ashamed when we think of the Puyallups, as they have now got\ntheir papers. They fought against the whites whilst we, who have never\nbeen angry with them, get nothing. When we get our pay we want it in\nmoney. The Indians are not bad. It is the mean white men that are bad to\nthem. If any person writes that we do not want our papers they tell lies.\n\n\u201cOh, Mr. Simmons; you see I am sick, I want you to write quickly to the\ngreat chief what I say. I am done.\u201d\n\nThen the old chief retired. Calm his mein, unruffled his spirits,\ndignified his tirade, though age had bent his stately bearing, for old\nChief Sealth had even then\u2014long before that day when he arose to call in\nquestion the integrity of a great nation which had promised to pay him\nfor his birthright and had not done so\u2014passed the milestones on life\u2019s\ngreat highway, when man\u2019s and Indian\u2019s, too, allotted days of labor are\nover.\n\nIt was the same old story. The dominion of the untutored child of the\nforest had been usurped by the ruthless hand of civilization and the\nIndian life had been crushed out.\n\nIt had followed the red man from the bleak New England shore to a last\ngreat stand on the borders of the western sea. Chief Sealth, like\nPowantonimo, Red Jacket, Black Hawk, Tecumseh and all the great line of\nchiefs of the American red man, had given up their ancestral possessions\nto the pale faces and was ready to die of a broken heart.\n\n[Illustration: DUKE OF YORK]\n\nOn the evening of the same day (May 15) Simmons and party reached Skagit\nHead, under Captain R. C. Fay, where some 800 Indians of the tribes\nof Skagits, Snohomish, Snoqualmies and others were assembled. He made\nabout the same speech to them as at Fort Kitsap, when Hetty Kannim, a\nsub-chief, answered him as follows:\n\n[Illustration: EAST INDIAN CARVING, FIGUREHEAD BARK ENTERPRISE]\n\n\u201cI am but a sub-chief, but I am chosen for my people to speak for them\ntoday. I will speak what I think and I want any of the drinking Indians\nto contradict me if they can. Liquor is killing our people off fast. Our\nyoung men spend their money and their work for it. Then they get angry\nand kill each other and sometimes kill their wives and children. We old\nmen do not drink and we beg our boys to not trade with cultus (bad)\nBoston men for liquor. We have all agreed to tell our agent when any\nliquor boats are about and help to arrest the man who sells it. I will\nnow talk about our treaties. When is the Great Father who lives across\nthe mountains going to send us our papers back? Four summers have passed\nsince you and Governor Stevens told us we would get our pay for lands. We\nremember well what you said to us over there (pointing to Elliott bay)\nand our hearts are very sick because you did not do as you promised. We\nsaw the Puyallups and the Nisquallys get their annual pay and our hearts\nwere sick because we could get nothing. We never fought with the whites.\nWe considered it good to have good white people among us. Our young women\ncan gather berries and clams and our young men can fish and hunt and sell\nwhat they get to the whites. We are willing that the whites shall take\nthe timber, but we want the game and the fish and we want our homes,\nwhere there is plenty of game and fish and good lands for potatoes. We\nwant our Great Father to know what our hearts are and we want you to send\nour talk to him at once. I have done.\u201d\n\n\u201cHiram,\u201d a Snoqualmie then spoke:\n\n\u201cWe want our treaty to be concluded as soon as possible. We are tired of\nwaiting. Our reason is that our old people, and there are many of them,\nare dying. Look at those old men and women; they have only a little while\nto live and they want to get their pay for their lands. The white people\nhave taken it and you, Mr. Simmons, promised us we should be paid, you\nand Governor Stevens. Suspense is killing us.\n\n\u201cWe are afraid to plant potatoes on the river bottom, lest some bad white\nman shall come and make us leave. You know what we are Mr. Simmons. You\nwas the first American we ever knew and our children will remember you as\nlong as they remember anything. I was but a boy when I first knew you.\nYou know we do not want to drink liquor, but we cannot help it when the\nbad Boston man brings it to us and urges us to drink. When our treaties\nwere made we told our hearts to you and Governor Stevens and they have\nnot changed since. I have done.\u201d\n\n[Illustration: CANOE HEAD TOTEM, SKOKOMISH]\n\n\u201cBonaparte,\u201d a Snohomish chief, then spoke as follows:\n\n\u201cWhat I have to say is not of much consequence. My children have all been\nkilled by rum, and I am very poor. I believe what Mr. Simmons tells about\nour treaty, but most Indians think he lies. My heart is not asleep. I\nhave known Mr. Simmons a long time and he never lied to me, and I think\nhe will tell the Great Father that we want to get our pay. I have done.\u201d\n\nThe Indians at Point no Point were then seen and many speeches of a like\ncharacter were made and then the party returned to Olympia.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXX\n\nTHE MAKAH TRIBE\n\n\nIn the extreme northwestern portion of the United States outside of\nAlaska, around and about the base of that sightly headland Cape Flattery,\nwhere it has been said in a spirit of half jest, but worth taking most\nseriously, that never a day in the year passes without rain, dwells a\nsmall nation of men and women who will go down in history, in song and\nstory perhaps, as a happy, contented people; a people doubly fortunate\nin the possession of a unique territory abounding with fruits of land\nand sea. Back of them are the mountains, their front door yard the\nrollicking, boundless expanse of frothy ocean; fish in the one, fowl and\nmeat in the other. Under their feet are the white sands of the ocean\nbeach, and over them seems continually to watch a most magnanimous\nprovidence. These people are the Makah Indians, robust, ruddy, big\nbrothers and big sisters, whose other branch of the family undoubtedly\nexists on the further side of the Straits of Juan de Fuca, so much do the\ngeneral characteristics of the one with the other seem to run together.\n\nThe Makah Indians are many generations advanced in civilization to that\nof some of the Sound tribes. Why this is so is\u2014because it is so. They\nhave enjoyed no greater privileges than other tribes. They are in fact\nfurther removed than most tribes from civilizing influences that have\nprevailed in the last generation. Perchance in this very fact lies their\npresent condition. Association with whites generally brings the worst of\nmoral results for the Indians whenever the Indian is permitted to be his\nown or his brother\u2019s keeper to any great extent. He readily succumbs to\nthe vices of the white man, but removed from these associations for the\ngreater part of his time and under the guidance of a conscientious agent,\nthe Indian should advance morally and mentally. The infusion of a great\ndeal of white blood into the tribe of the Makah (for some of the earliest\nsettlers went to the Straits to settle) has had a good effect. At present\nthe leading men are largely half-breeds who have been to school and look\nvery intelligent fellows. They are lively and smart in business. They\nknow how to hunt and they know how to fish as no other Washington tribe\ndoes. In fact, since the issuance of the decree of pelagic sealing the\nIndian seal hunters of Neah Bay carry the palm of greatest success in\nthat line. They own schooners but they are not sailors. Somehow the\nproprietorship of several well known sealing vessels has come to them\nwithout any effort on their part; it was something of a parental care\non the part of a thoughtful government, and although the average Indian\nfound on board does not know a rat line from a marlin spike they go to\nsea nevertheless, are blown out and blown in and always bring home seals.\nWhen off on long voyages they are usually accompanied by white men with\nmore or less knowledge of sealing and navigation and are not so much at\nthe mercy of their own ignorance of those things. When it comes down to\nhunting seal or fishing off the coast within sight of land, the Makah\nasks nothing better than his stout, roomy cedar canoe. He will chase a\nwhale too, as quickly as he will a seal. They are great sea rovers, are\nthe buccaneers of the northwest, and will start off on a three hundred\nmile voyage in light canoes, down the coast or up the Straits and Sound,\nwith no more serious consideration than if they were going only as far\nas the nearest bight or inlet. They are a whole community of fishermen,\nindustrious but not frugal. Without money they are contented, with money\nthe reverse. An Indian knows nothing of the value of money beyond the\nspending of it. The first thing the Indians do after a successful sealing\nvoyage or a trip to the hop fields where men, women and children unite in\ngathering the hops, is to repair to the cities and larger towns on the\nSound and expend the proceeds in a thousand and one gaudy and useless\narticles that please the passing fancy of the native. They have however\nbeen taught to provide themselves with provisions and manufactured goods\nfor household use, and there are some very comfortable homes upon the\nreservation.\n\nJudge James G. Swan, of Port Townsend, who is a recognized authority on\nthe Cape Indians recently wrote a very interesting chapter on the Makah\nIndians which appeared in the _Post-Intelligencer_, of Seattle, and is\npartially as follows:\n\n\u201cFrom Neah Bay to the Pacific coast in a southwest direction is a prairie\nthrough which runs a creek which empties into the Pacific ocean at the\nIndian village Wa-atch, four miles distant from Neah Bay. A few miles\nsouth of Wa-atch is another village called Tsoo-ess, and south of this\nis another village called Ho-sett or Osette. These three villages with\nthe village at Neah Bay constitute the winter residences of the Makah\ntribe of Indians. During the summer months they move to villages nearer\nCape Flattery, one of which is at Kiddecubbut, a few miles west of Neah\nBay, another is on Tatoosh island, and a third at Archawat, on the coast\nnear Wa-atch, so as to be near the halibut banks, the whaling grounds\nand the fine seal fishing. In 1859, when I first visited Neah Bay,\nthe Makah tribe numbered 820 persons, 220 of whom were strong men or\n\u2018braves,\u2019 and the remainder women, children and slaves. Their means of\nsubsistence were almost entirely drawn from the ocean, and at that time\ntheir principal food was dried halibut, dried whale blubber and oil,\nsalmon, true cod, Gadus morhua, cultus cod, Ophiodon elongatus, black\ncod or beshow, Anoplopoma fimbria, with various other kinds of smaller\nfish, and shell fish of different kinds, such as mussels, crabs, clams,\ncockles, limpets, sea slugs and snales, octopus, squid and barnacles. Of\nlate years they have accustomed themselves to some of the white man\u2019s\nfood, such as flour, hard bread, rice, beans and potatoes, and, like\nother Indians, are very fond of molasses or syrup, which they eat with\ntheir bread and rice; but all their other food is usually greased with\na plentiful supply of whale oil. I have frequently eaten with them, and\nmust confess that dried halibut dipped in fresh sweet whale oil is not an\nobjectionable repast to a hungry man.\n\n\u201cThe whale blubber is cut in strips, then boiled to extract the oil\nwhich is carefully skimmed off, and after being boiled again to expel\nthe moisture, is put into receptacles for use as food. The blubber after\nbeing boiled is hung up in the smoke and dried and looks like bacon.\n\n\u201cThe halibut is cut into thin flakes, which are dried in the sun without\nsalt, and when well cured is nice, either eaten dry, dipped in whale oil\nor simply boiled or toasted before the fire.\n\n\u201cThe Makahs are particularly dextrous in handling their canoes, and\nproceed in them fearlessly many miles from land in pursuit of whales or\nseals, or for fishing on the halibut banks fifteen miles northwest from\nthe Cape. Their canoes are beautifully modeled, resembling our finest\nclipper ships. They are formed from a single log of cedar, carved out\nwith skill and elegance. The best canoes are made by the Clayoquot and\nNittinat tribes on Vancouver island, B. C., who sell them to the Makahs,\nbut few being made by the latter tribe, owing to the scarcity of cedar in\ntheir vicinity.\n\n\u201cIn attacking a whale their canoes are invariably manned with eight\nmen\u2014six to paddle, one to steer and one in the bow to throw the harpoon.\nThe harpoons are either made of hoop iron, old sheathing metal or a flat\nmussel shell sharpened to a point, having barbs of elk horn fastened on\neach side of the flat surface of the point, securely bound with wild\ncherry bark and neatly fastened to a stout lanyard varying in length\nfrom one to four fathoms. The whole of the spearhead is smeared over\nwith pitch made of spruce gum, to give it smoothness and uniformity of\nsurface. The pole or staff is from fifteen to twenty feet long, tapering\nat each end, and made of yew, which gives it strength and solidity. When\nused the lanyard is made fast to a buoy of sealskin taken off whole from\nthe animal and dried with the hair side inward. This is first blown up\nlike a bladder, then the end of the pole is inserted between the barbs\nand darted into the whale, leaving the pole which is taken back into the\ncanoe. The short lanyard is used when striking the whale in the head, and\nhas only one buoy attached. The long one is used in striking the body\nand has three buoys to it. When a number of these buoys are fastened to a\nwhale, he is obliged to remain at or near the surface of the water and is\neasily killed with spears and long lances. Seals and porpoises are killed\nwith similarly formed harpoons, but much smaller.\n\n\u201cTheir fishing lines are made of the stem of the gigantic kelp,\nNercocystis, which is common along the northwest coast. This kelp,\ncommencing at its root in a slender stem about the size of a pipe stem,\nor codline, rises to within a few fathoms of the surface of the water\nwith but little increase of size, and then gradually enlarges till it\nterminates in a hollow knob or bulb, which always floats on the surface\nof the water, and from this bulb issue long streamer-like leaves fifteen\nor twenty feet long. The Indians cut off the long slender portion of the\nstem, then soak it in fresh running water three or four days, or until\nit turns white, and then stretch it and rub it to a uniform size, then\nknot the pieces together, coil them up and the fish line is made. When\ndry it is brittle and readily broken, but an immersion in water a few\nminutes makes it pliable, when it becomes tough and exceedingly strong.\nThe bulb of this kelp and upper part of the stem being hollow, are used\nfor various purposes. Fish-bait is kept in them, and the larger ones are\nfrequently used as water bottles.\n\n\u201cThe fishhooks of the Makahs are made of the knots or butt parts of\nhemlock limbs first split into splinters of the required length and\nwhittled to the required shape, then placed in a kelp stem and roasted in\nhot ashes till pliable, then bent into a form like an ox bow. The line\nis fastened to the upper arm, and on the inside of the lower arm a barb\nof bone is firmly attached, and with this rude and simple instrument\nthey readily secure the halibut and cod. For smaller fish they use steel\nfishhooks purchased of the white men.\n\n\u201cThe houses or lodges of the Makahs are built of cedar boards and planks\nand are usually of large size, eighteen to twenty feet high and forty\nto sixty feet square, with slightly elevated shed-like roofs. These\nboards are split from cedar logs with little wedges of yew and require\nskill and patience to make them. These houses are comfortable dwellings,\nexcepting the smoke, and as they have several families in each lodge,\neach family having a separate fire the smoke of which serves to dry the\nfish and blubber, the usual fumes cause an intense smarting in the eyes\nof visitors who are not accustomed to so much carbon in the atmosphere.\nDuring the past ten years some of the better class of Indians at Neah\nvillage have built houses in white men\u2019s style, but all the older\nvillages retain the ancient form of building.\n\n\u201cTheir manufactures consist of such implements as are used in fishing\nand hunting\u2014harpoons, spears, bows and arrows and fishhooks. Bows and\narrows are now rarely used except by the boys for shooting birds, the\nHudsons Bay company musket taking its place, and of late years rifles\nand double-barreled shotguns; the women braid mats very neatly from\ncedar bark and weave blankets from dogs\u2019 hair. Baskets and conical-shaped\nChinese-looking hats for keeping off rain, are made from spruce roots,\ncedar twigs and bleached bear grass. They also make of these materials,\ntable mats which are very handsome and durable. The northern Indians and\nparticularly those of Queen Charlotte island, B. C., are very expert\ncarvers of wood and stone, and manufacture bracelets, finger rings and\near ornaments of silver and gold, decorated with carvings of various\ndevices. The tribe south of Queen Charlotte group have little skill in\nthese particulars, and only carve rude faces of men or animals of their\nmythology on their masks and other articles.\n\n\u201cThe Makahs are fond of music, and many of their songs and chants, when\nsung in chorus, are melodious and musical. They readily pick up tunes\nfrom others and can sing the popular songs of the day, and some of the\nscholars at the agency school learned to play the piano and organ; in\nfact they can learn anything that white children are taught.\n\n\u201cThe primitive dress of the Makahs at the time of establishing the\nreservation in 1862 was simple and picturesque. During warm weather a\nblanket was the usual covering of both sexes, the women simply adding a\ncotton skirt or petticoat, or a cincture of cedar bark spun into a coarse\nfringe, reaching from the waist to the knee. Some of the men tied their\nhair into a club knot behind, around which they wore a wreath of hemlock\nor spruce twigs or fresh plucked sea weed, giving them a picturesque\nappearance. During rains or cold weather the men wore bearskin cloaks,\nwith the head part cut off so that the forepaws can be brought on each\nside of the neck and fastened; the paws, with the great nails attached,\nhang down upon the breast. On their heads they place the conical-shaped\nhat painted with various designs, and in this costume, with the addition\nof a gun or spear, they make a formidable appearance. Both sexes have\nthe cartilage of the nose pierced, and into this is tied a pendant piece\nof abalone shell by way of ornament. Shell ear ornaments were also worn,\nbut now are but seldom seen. The females ornament themselves when in full\ndress for dancing or ceremonial purposes, with a coronet made of the\ndentalium, or tooth shell, called \u2018haiqua.\u2019 This is fastened around the\nhead in parallel rows, and its pearly whiteness contrasted with their\nblack hair is very ornamental. Into their ears are fastened strings of\nhaiqua, intermingled with brass buttons, thimbles, beads of various\ncolors and pieces of the green shells of the abalone. Rings of brass wire\nencircle the wrists, bunches of beads of various colors are tied around\nthe neck, and strings of beads wound around the ankles; the line of the\nparting of the hair on the top of the head is marked with vermillion, the\neyebrows blackened with charcoal, the face is greased with deer\u2019s fat and\nthen rubbed over with vermillion, and this was the ornamental appearance\nof a Makah belle when on dress parade.\n\n\u201cWhen about their usual work among fish and blubber, or when they are off\non a trading voyage with a load of oil and dried halibut, their dress is\nvery simple and very dirty. I have seen many of the men with a coating\nof grease and soot covering their entire bodies, and the dresses of the\nwomen completely saturated with oil and dirt; but as soon as they get\nthrough their work or return from a cruise up Fuca straits there is a\ngeneral washing. This washing scene is the usual morning ceremony. They\nare very fond of bathing in the surf, and do not omit their bath even in\nthe coldest weather.\n\n\u201cBreakfast immediately follows the bath, and as all their meals are\nserved alike, a description of one at which I partook in 1859 will give\nan idea of the style then prevalent. On entering the lodge I was invited\nto sit down near the chief or head man of the family. His portion of\nthe lodge was separated from the rest of the building by a screen of\nmats to keep off the cold. Before me, circled round the fire, were the\nchildren and slaves, for slavery existed among them at that time, and\non the raised platform sat the principal members of the family. At my\nleft, suspended from a pole stuck in the ground, hung the cradle of an\ninfant who was firmly lashed in an oblong basket, and its head compressed\nby bark and moss bound tightly across its forehead. The mother, sitting\nnear, lulled the child to sleep by gently pulling a string tied to the\ntop of the pole, producing a motion not unlike a modern baby jumper.\nAround the sides of the lodge were boxes and chests of the occupants,\nand on shelves over these were piled baskets of potatoes and dried fish\nand skins of oil; overhead hung blubber and fish to dry in the smoke for\nfuture food. The meal consisted of roasted potatoes, boiled ducks, boiled\nfish, dried halibut and whale oil. Hard bread and molasses were offered\nme, but I declined, thinking that whale oil was more of a rarity to my\npalate. The viands were served up in wooden trenchers, and all helped\nthemselves without any aid from knife or fork. When we had finished, we\nwiped our greasy hands and faces on some cedar bark, beat into a soft,\nfibrous mass, called \u2018tupsoc,\u2019 and rinsed our mouths with a drink of cold\nwater. They usually take three meals a day, excepting when they have a\nfeasting time when they go from house to house eating at every one. On\none occasion when I was taking the census of the tribe, I was invited to\npartake of food in each lodge I visited. As that was impossible I asked\nmy interpreter what I should do, as to refuse hospitality is to give\noffense. \u2018Oh,\u2019 said he, \u2018all you have to do is to put your finger down\nyour throat as we do, and thus relieve you stomach.\u2019 And that really is\nthe only alternative, and with Indians it is very effective, as I have\nseen an Indian apparently eat with relish seven or eight breakfasts, but\nsomehow I never could acquire the practice, and I was excused, as I was a\nwhite man.\n\n\u201cAmong the old Indians and those who have not been educated, these old\ncustoms prevail, but with the younger generation who have attended\nschool, the habits of civilization are followed in a degree. The Makah\nIndian agency was established in June, 1862, with Henry A. Webster United\nStates Indian agent. I was appointed teacher and superintendent of the\ngovernment building, and remained until August, 1866. My first pupil was\na bright little boy about nine years old named James Claplanhoo, the\nhereditary chief of the tribe. Jimmie remained with me all the time I\nwas on the reservation, and then went to live with the Indian agent as\ncook until he was old enough to marry, and then he married one of the\nschoolgirls, Mary Ann Charliquoa, and has a family of boys and girls. His\neldest son, Jorji James, is captain of the sealing schooner Deeahks, and\nhis eldest daughter, Minnie, is married to Chistoqua Peterson, one of the\nsmartest young men in the tribe, a graduate of the Indian school, who\nowns the sealing schooner Columbia and is a regular trader.\n\n\u201cThe Makahs are a self-supporting and thrifty tribe. When I went among\nthem to reside officially, the largest vessels they had were canoes dug\nout of cedar logs, and they were the most expert surfmen I have seen. I\nadvised them to get larger vessels and the government encouraged them,\nand in 1888 the United States marshal sold to Chistoqua Peterson, Peter\nBrown and John Tainsub, all Makahs, the seized schooner Anna Beck, of\nsixty tons gross measurement, which they named the James G. Swan. In 1880\nPeter bought the old schooner Letitia and sold her to some Vancouver\nisland Indians and bought the fine schooner Champion, which was lost on\nVancouver island. James Claplanhoo bought the pilot boat Lottie, but\nshe was wrecked. He now owns the schooners Deeahks and Emmet Felitz.\nLighthouse Jim owns the C. C. Perkins. Yokum, the storekeeper owns the\nMatilda. The Puritan and August and several smaller sloops and boats\nare owned by others. During all the \u2018hard times\u2019 this thrifty tribe has\nmade a comfortable living by sealing, whaling and fishing for halibut,\ncod and other varieties. Several of these Indians, such as Capt. James\nClaplanhoo, Chistoqua Peterson, Peter Brown, Shobid Hunter and others,\nhave comfortable homes like white people, and Kobal runs the only hotel\nat Neah, which now looks like a little watering village, but the old\nIndians and those who live in villages on the coast prefer their large\nwooden lodges, and it will take another generation or more before they\nwill abandon their old customs and adopt the white man\u2019s style of living.\nBut they show a degree of industrious thrift which could be profitably\nemulated by croakers and idlers in all our towns.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXI\n\nFOOTPRINTS OF UNKNOWN TRAVELERS\n\n\nAntedating the first arrivals of white people to the Sound in the 40\u2019s,\nwere found in various parts of the country numbers of things showing\nthat white men or civilized or half-civilized people of some color\nhad visited the country. One instance particularly was the remains or\nindications of a settlement or camp at the mouth of the Duwamish river.\nAs nearly as good judgment could fix it, this camp must have been located\nat the beginning of the present century. It is not improbable that at\nsome very early day, some navigator bold built a new one or repaired\nvery materially a sailing vessel at that place. Stumps of trees that\nshowed they had been cut for scores of years were found, and the trees\nthemselves gone; strong proof that whoever stopped there did so for a\npurpose, executed it and went on their way, leaving nothing behind by\nwhich their identity could be made known to those who came after them.\nThe Indians had no recollection or tradition of those who cut the trees,\nthough it is not improbable that some one of the early navigators shortly\nsubsequent to Vancouver tarried there for a time.\n\nAnother find of later years was the uncovering of a strange and very old\ncave, an old tomb in one of the public streets of Seattle.\n\nThere was not line or marble, nor carving, trinket, old coin nor scroll\nto tell its history, to name its day. It was way back in the palmy days\nof 1872 when the old tomb was unearthed and once more saw the light. The\ntoilers of that day were grading down to the virgin soil and carrying\nFront street to the north. In their path at a spot opposite where the\nFrye block now stands and just north of Marion street stood a small\nmound. It must be cut down, and cut down it was; and the dirt carried\nto a distance south of the present crossing at Marion street and dumped\ninto a small ravine or depression through which an old log-run threaded\nits course to the higher ground. In the digging of the mound the workmen\nlaid bare the old tomb; and such a tomb! In the center of the mound it\nwas about five feet from the surface. Built up for two or three feet\nwith four walls of stone, boulders from here and there, but in a way\nshowing rudimentary knowledge of architecture and design. Inside was\nthe half-mummy, half-skeleton of some one unknown. Filling all of the\nspace of the sarcophagus was beach sand, apparently having been procured\nwith great care and toil. Such was the story of the unknown dead. It\nastonished the local historian of that day as it is still the wonder of\nthose same historians who are yet living here today. The old tomb was at\nleast 100 yards from the then high tide line, and the carefully gathered\nwhite beach sand had most certainly been carried over the intervening\ndistance from sea to grave. Some joints of the skeleton were decayed,\nothers not. The skull was perfect and what caused the local historian to\nwonder, and wonder, and wonder again, was that the poll of the skeleton\nwas not flattened. For 20 years after the whites settled here, and for\ntimes out of mind before that the Indians of the Sound had universally\nflattened the skull. But then it was not Indian, why? Because the Indians\nsaid it was not. Old Kitsap\u2019s people said it was not, and the traditions\nand customs of all the local Indians disproved such a proposition. It\nwas on the edges of the high bluffs around the bay, just underneath the\ngrass roots and tufts that clung to the very edges of the bluffs, where\nthe Indian dead were buried, had always been buried, and even up to the\npresent winter days of 1895, when an unusually heavy rainfall may occur,\nthe bones of the dead Indians may be found at odd spots along the bluffs.\nThey never put their dead under ground. The local historian has two\nprobable theories for the cave. In Vancouver\u2019s first explorations of the\nSound his ships anchored off Blakeley rocks; after coursing Admiralty\ninlet Lieu. Puget took a boat\u2019s crew and paddled away even to a greater\ndistance up the Sound. Naturally they would explore such a pretty bay as\nthat around the rim of which the Queen City so proudly sits, and it might\nhave been that one of his men died and was buried here. Lewis and Clark\u2019s\nmen or some early explorers may have ventured down the valley of the\nDuwamish river in the dawn of the present century. Trees had been cut and\nthe stumps were still standing that marked the sites of the early camping\ngrounds, and axes had been used in the cutting. It might have been one of\nthose explorers bold, died and was buried in the stone grave so carefully\narranged to preserve the bones placed within. But these are only theories\nand the wonder of the little mound will perhaps forever remain a riddle\nunsolved.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXII\n\nSOME NEIGHBORLY TRIBES\n\n\nThe beauty and grandeur of the great body of water forming the inland sea\nknown to the Pacific coast Indians as the Whulge, attracted many tribes\nliving at some distance from it both in the interior and to the north.\nAmong these visitors were what were always spoken of by the earlier\nsettlers as the Northern Indians. It is now known that these were the\ntribes from both the British Columbia and Alaska coasts\u2014the Haidas, the\nmost advanced tribe probably in the entire northwest; the T\u2019Klinkets of\nAlaska, and other less distinguished tribes.\n\nThe Haidas occupied principally the Queen Charlotte islands and the\nPrince of Wales archipelago. There is nothing unusual about these\nislands in topographical appearance. They present the same broken\nsurface, snow-capped mountains and deep canyons, with huge landslides and\nsparkling glacial aspect so common in that region. But these same islands\nof summer rains and fogs and winter ice and snow are peopled by one of\nthe most remarkable races of aborigines found on the American continent.\nLike nearly all of the rest of the Indians of the northwest coast, they\nlive by hunting and fishing, and as the lands inhabited by them are\nrough and broken, and subdivided into such small tracts by the numerous\nmountain ranges, their only means of travel is by water.\n\nThe Indians about Dixon entrance are unquestionably superior in physique\nto the coast Indians to the southward, and among themselves the physical\nsuperiority rests with the Haida. This may be due to real ethnical\ndifferences, but is probably accounted for in the fact that natural\nconditions in the Queen Charlotte islands and around such an exposed arm\nas Dixon entrance have produced a finer and more robust people than those\nin less exposed regions. While there is considerable uniformity in the\ngeneral physical character of all the stocks on the northwest coast, a\npracticed eye can readily detect the difference between them.\n\nAs the superiority of the Haidas to the T\u2019Klinkets and Tsimshians\ncomprises the greatest difference in physical characteristics, so\nwith the emotional and moral nature of the three races, the greatest\ndifference is marked only by the superior sensitiveness of the Haidas.\n\nIt is in the intellect, however, that the greatest gulf exists between\nthem. One visiting the Haidas sees many strikingly intelligent and\nattractive faces amongst the older men and women, where experience has\ngiven character to their expressions. The dullness attributed to the\nIndians of the interior here gives place to a more alert expression of\ncountenance. They acquire knowledge readily, and since schools have been\nestablished among them their children have made fair progress. They learn\nall trades with readiness, and before the missionaries and traders came\namong them they exhibited much ingenuity, not only in the erection of\ncomfortable dwelling houses, but in their numerous carvings on wood and\nslate, their working and engraving on copper and the erection of those\ngreat totem columns which make every Haida village famous.\n\nTheir ingenious methods of hunting and fishing, their modes of living,\ntheir food, their methods of warfare and their laws and customs are all\ninteresting subjects, but space will make it necessary to confine the\npresent article to some of their totem columns, carvings and engravings.\n\nBut little is generally known of the real meaning of these great columns\nthat form such a prominent feature in the Haida settlements. Government\nexperts have been among them during the summer months of several seasons\nand studied them as thoroughly as possible at such seasons of the year.\nJudge James G. Swan, of Port Townsend, has also gathered a valuable\nand complete collection of Haida carvings, engravings, basket work,\nimplements, etc., for the Smithsonian Institution, but thus far there\nhas been but little attention given to the systematic study of the\nmythology of the race, as that can only be studied with satisfaction\nduring the winter months when the natives are collected in their various\nhomes, thus rendering it possible for only a few of the more inquisitive\nmissionaries and traders to know anything of the legends that compose the\nrich folklore of the Haida nation. A totem is a rude picture or carving\nas of a bird or other animal, used as a symbol of a family. It represents\na class of material objects which a savage regards with superstitious\nrespect, believing that there exists between him and every member of the\nclass an intimate and altogether special relation. The connection between\na man and his totem is beneficial one to the other; the totem protects\nthe man and in return he shows his respect by not killing it, if it be an\nanimal, and by not cutting or gathering it if it be a plant.\n\nThere are at least three kinds of totems, namely the clan totem, sex\ntotem and individual totem. The clan totem is common to a whole clan\nand passes by inheritance from one generation to another, while the\nindividual totem belongs to but one person and does not pass to his\ndescendants.\n\nFrom their nature totems are constantly undergoing change. Clans tend\nto become phrateries, split up into sub-phrateries; sub-phrateries\ndecay and finally disappear. An individual becomes wealthy or otherwise\ndistinguishes himself, and being one of the leading men of the tribe,\nhis totem, or rather his crest or sub-totem, which may previously have\nbeen an obscure one, rises with him as he advances in importance in\nhis tribe. Under his successors, the totem widens in its numbers and\ninfluence, and finally eclipses other clan totems, which in time melt\naway, or are incorporated with it.\n\nA single system of totems extends throughout the different tribes of the\nHaidas. The principal totems found among them are the eagle, wolf, crow,\nblack bear, brown bear and thrasher.\n\nThe sub-totem usually comes from naming the child after some natural\nobjects from some accidental circumstance or fanciful resemblance, or in\nnick-naming in after life.\n\nThe Haida Indians of Houkan often repeat a legend of a great war between\nthem and the T\u2019Klinkets. While they were engaged in a great battle, which\nafterwards decided the contest, a flock of ravens flew over and perched\non the side of the Haidas. And they being victorious, took \u201cYalth,\u201d or\nthe raven, as the totem of the Haida tribes.\n\nThe carved columns of the Haidas may be divided into two classes, the\ntotemic and the commemorative. Those erected in front of houses are\nusually very tall ones, and are for the most part histories of the\nfamilies who own them. The top figure is usually the clan totem of\nthe chief occupant. Those below may represent totems of his wife and\nchildren, the children always taking unto themselves the mother\u2019s totem.\nSometimes it illustrates some legend closely connected or referring to\nthe owner\u2019s totem. Some of them deal with the history of the tribe, while\nothers are purely legendary, but refer to the totem of the owner. None\nbut the wealthy can afford to erect these carved columns, so that one who\nis rich enough to own one has a prestige that is so desirable among them.\nAs the head of a household he becomes a petty chief in the village. With\nthe Haida, to accumulate sufficient wealth to own a totem pole and rise\nto the dignity of a petty chief is the leading passion of his soul.\n\n[Illustration: TOTEM COLUMN, NORTHERN INDIANS]\n\nEnsign Niblock, of the United States navy, in speaking of these totem\ncolumns, says: \u201cA great deal of mystery has been thrown around these\npictographic carvings, due to the ignorance and misconception of some\nwriters and the reticence or deliberate deception practiced by the\nIndians themselves. One of those Indians will not tell his stories or\nexplain his carving to any but the initiated, and then only when they\nare in perfect sympathy with him. Mr. McLeod, the trader at Houkan, was\nvery successful in gaining information from them that would have been\nimpossible for Mr. Gould, the missionary, or his wife, the government\nschool teacher, to have obtained. Then they have their moods, and will\nrarely tell their stories either in daytime or during the summer season.\nBut during those long winter nights which characterize that region the\nold Indian will build a fire and settle himself down in business-like\nmanner and talk as long as the fire lasts. When the fire has burned down\nto a bed of coals and the dying embers begin to fade away, his story\nstops. Nor will he build another fire. Nothing more will be heard of\nthe story that night. Thus it often requires a week or more for an old\nHaida to complete the narration of the story that is written on a single\ntotemic carving.\u201d\n\nEnsign Niblock was quite right when he wrote of these totem carvings:\n\u201cThey are in no sense idols, but in general may be said to be ancestral\ncolumns. The legends which they illustrate are but the traditions,\nfolklore and nursery tales of a primitive people; and while they are\nin some sense childish or frivolous, and at times even coarse, they\nrepresent the current human thought as truly as truly as do the ancient\ninscriptions in Egypt and Babylonia, or the Maya inscriptions of Yucatan.\u201d\n\nThe totemic and commemorative carvings are for the most part symbolical\nof the objects they represent rather than imitations of them. There is\nusually some arbitrary mark by which one of the initiated distinguishes\none symbol from another. Thus the brown bear is usually known by the\npeculiar shape of the ears, the beaver by the shape of his teeth, the\nraven by the sharpness of his bill, the eagle by the shape of his beak,\nthe owl by the ears, the grampus by his great fin, etc.\n\nThe explanation of the column in front of the Haida house given in the\nillustration may be of interest.\n\nThe figure (a) at the top of the column represents \u201cHoots,\u201d or the brown\nbear, which is the totem of the proprietor of the house. The \u201cdisks\u201d (b)\nbelow the bear indicate the high rank or great wealth of the man who\nerected it. Each one of them usually commemorates some meritorious act of\nits owner, such as giving a great \u201cpotlatch\u201d or winning a great victory.\nNext proceeding down the column is \u201cYalth\u201d (c), the great raven with the\nmoon in his mouth. Beneath him is the bear and hunter (d), and at the\nbottom is \u201cTsing\u201d (f), the beaver and totem of the wife and children. The\nfollowing is the story related by the carving of the bear and hunter:\n\nTouats, the hunter, on one occasion visited the house of the great king\nof bears. The great bear was not at home, but his wife being there he\nmade love to her. When Hoots (the bear) returned he found his wife very\nanxious and much confused, so he charged her with unfaithfulness to him,\na charge that she speedily denied. She continued to go regularly for wood\nand water. As the bear\u2019s suspicions continued to exist, he fastened a\nmagic cord to her dress one of those days, and, following it up, found\nher in the arms of the hunter. Hoots, being much enraged, killed the\nhunter (Touats) after a hard fight.\n\nIt is not known whether or not this legend originated in the failure to\ndistinguish between the real bear and the bear totem. It is probable,\nhowever, that the bear totem is referred to. An Indian moralist will find\nin this story a warning to wives to be faithful to their husbands.\n\nAbove the bear and hunter is \u201cYalth,\u201d or the great raven, carrying in his\nbeak the new moon and in his claws the dish of fresh water, illustrating\nthe most familiar version of the Haida legend of the creation. Yalth,\nthe raven and benefactor of man, stole from his evil uncle, the eagle\n(the enemy of man), the new moon which he had imprisoned in a box, and\nalso got fresh water by strategy from the eagle\u2019s daughter. The crafty\nraven made love to the eagle\u2019s daughter and won her confidence. He then\ndeceived her and flew out through the smoke hole of the eagle\u2019s house,\ntaking the water with him. He also stole the sun and stars from the boxes\nin which they were imprisoned by the chief of tides. When the sun shone\nforth all the people were frightened and ran in all directions in search\nof hiding places. Some flew to the mountains, others into the sea and\nmany took to the woods.\n\nThey were all transformed into animals suited to live in their respective\nhiding places. He reached an island in the sea by the help of his magic\nbird skin, and seizing a burning brand of fire started on his return to\nQueen Charlotte island, but the journey was so long that nearly all of\nthe wood burned up, and even the point of his bill was scorched black, so\nhe had to let it drop. The sparks flew in all directions over the whole\nregion, so that ever after both stone and wood contain fire, which can\nbe obtained from one by striking and from the other by rubbing. There\nare many versions of this story of creation, and many are the adventures\nof Yalth, the raven, not to mention the other traditions, which are too\nnumerous for one Indian to learn in a lifetime.\n\nThere are several accounts of creation that have gained ground among the\nvarious Haida tribes.\n\nAll of them agree that Yalth, or the great raven, is the benefactor of\nman, and the creator of all things. According to one of the legends the\nfirst people sprung from a cockle shell, and that the raven stole from\nthe eagle all the things which were needed by men. According to another\ntradition the raven transformed himself into a drop of water and the\neagle\u2019s daughter having drank him became impregnated with him and bore\nhim a man child, etc. The Indians at Houkan have still a different\nversion of the first part of the creation story. According to them the\nsister of Mughilflass, the first man, was childless, and wished to\nmarry. Her name was Slaugfunt. She sat many days in the house of her\nbrother wishing for a mate to come along and take her. One day she saw\na whale-killer pass by, who returned and took her a long way out to sea\nwith him. While gone the man child was born. Varied as these legends are\nconcerning the first part of the creation they all seem to agree that the\nraven stole the sun, moon and stars from the eagle, and the fresh water\nfrom the eagle\u2019s daughter, according to the story on the totem column\njust described, and he did all these criminal deeds for the good of man.\n\n[Illustration: THE BEAR MOTHER]\n\nThe Haidas show great ingenuity in their carvings on wood, but it is\nin their slate modelings that their greatest skill is exhibited. They\nmine their peculiar quality of slate on Queen Charlotte island. When it\nfirst comes out of the ground it is soft and easy to work, but after it\nhas been exposed to the atmosphere for a few weeks it becomes very hard\nand takes a good polish. On this slate they execute work that compares\nfavorably with many of the productions of highly civilized sculptors.\n\nOne of their best specimens is the Bear Mother, which also illustrates a\nlegend. There are several versions of it, but here is the most usually\naccepted:\n\nA number of Indian squaws were in the woods gathering berries when a\nchief\u2019s daughter, who chanced to be among them, ridiculed the whole bear\nspecies. The bears poured down upon them and killed all but the chief\u2019s\ndaughter, whom the king bear made his wife.\n\nShe bore him a child, half human and half bear. She was discovered up a\ntree one day by a party of Indians, who were out hunting. They mistook\nher for a bear, but she made them understand that she was human. They\ntook her home and she became the ancestor of all the Indians belonging to\nthe bear totem.\n\nThe carving represents the agony of the mother in suckling this rough and\nuncouth offspring.\n\nThe Haidas believe in the transmigration of the soul and that men are\nmerely bears, wolves, ravens and the like transformed into men.\n\nUpon examining their work on silver and copper one will be struck by the\nneatness of the workmanship as well as the oddness of the designs of the\nHaida smiths. If the Haida wishes to draw the picture of a man or animal\non a bracelet, ring or breast pin, he will split the face in the middle\nand draw two side views, one facing the other.\n\n[Illustration: HAIDA CHILD DANCE AT HOUKAN]\n\nThe boxes, food, dishes, implements, in short, everything used by the\nHaida, are richly carved or painted with the totems of owners, and\nillustrations of incidents of their lives, or legends of their totems. On\nmost Haida drawings the eye is placed on the breast, ear, foot, etc.,\nof the figure, to give the idea of general utility of the power of each\nnumber to look out for itself.\n\nThe carved box of black slate shown in the illustration has a sea lion on\neach end. Each of them has a salmon in its mouth. The face on the side of\nthe box is \u201cHoots,\u201d the brown bear, chewing up the hunter, and represents\nthe same bear and hunter story as has been explained in connection with\nthe totem column in front of the house.\n\nThere are many different types of rattles found in that region, the one\ngiven in this book being the most common form of shamens or medicine\nman\u2019s rattle. It is carved of the famous yellow cedar wood and painted\nin several brilliant colors. The carving on the breast represents the\nsparrow hawk; the tail of the bird is carved to represent another bird\u2019s\nhead with a frog in its mouth. The frog is supposed to possess a poison\nin his head that the medicine man sucks out to give him power to work bad\nspells.\n\nThe figure on the back is Ka-ka-hete, the whistling demon, who lived\nin the mountains. He was capsized while traveling in his canoe one day\nand nearly drowned. He swam ashore and made for the woods for shelter.\nSome times he came down into the villages and stole the children, which\nhe took into the woods with him and ate. In later times he transformed\nhimself into a land otter. The two figures on the top of the rattle tell\na story of Haida love-making. The front figure represents the boy, while\nthe other one, the \u201cbirdie,\u201d if you please, is the girl. The frog passing\nfrom one mouth to the other indicates that a lie has been told by one of\nthem, and from the direction that he is traveling it appears that there,\nas elsewhere, the boy had to bear the blame of it. The rattle, taken as\na whole, represents the great raven, with a brand of fire in his mouth,\nwhich the Haida nations worship as the creator and benefactor of the\nhuman race.\n\nBefore the whites came among them the Haidas made knives and daggers of\nstone and copper, but steel is mostly used among them now-a-days for\nsuch purposes. The daggers shown in the illustration have yellow cedar\nhandles, and each has carved on it the individual totems of owner. One of\nthem seems to be a chief of the beaver tribe, and is quite eminent, since\nthere are four disks on his hat.\n\nThe Haida tribes are rapidly undergoing a change. They are not slow to\nabandon their own customs and adopt the methods of the Europeans. If\nscholars wish to systematically acquaint themselves with the interesting\ntraditions of these people as illustrated by their carving, etching\nand painting, they would better be about it. Their works are rapidly\ndeteriorating in the face of the new civilization and in the indifference\nof the present generation. In fact the only young men who now engage in\nsuch pursuits are the curio makers.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXIII\n\nTOTEMISM AND SUPERSTITIONS\n\n\nThose who have read of the wonderful totemic carvings of the Haidas\nwill no doubt take an interest in the peculiar laws and customs, and\nthe strange moral and esthetical standards of those remarkable people\nof the North. If judged by the highest standard of nineteenth century\ncivilization, these people would not hold a very high position. But\nif they were compared to surrounding tribes when they first came in\ncontact with whites, the thing that would be noticed most is the great\nprogress they had themselves made in morals. When first visited by\nthe early explorers these Indians, like all the other Indians on the\ncoast, were bold shameless thieves. With them it was not dishonorable\nto steal, and, if caught, restitution settled the matter. On the other\nhand they discriminated between a friend and an enemy and seldom or\nnever, stole from a guest and never robbed one of their own totem or\nclan. And to this day an unwatched camp or an unlocked house is, with\nthem, sacredly respected, and the most valuable property that is hid in\nthe woods is just as safe from other Indians as if guarded night and\nday. Unfortunately the white men have set some very bad examples in this\nrespect and the Indians have not so often sinned as they have been sinned\nagainst.\n\nIn many of their race characteristics social customs, moral standards\nand traditions, they bear a striking resemblance to the inhabitants of\nJapan, and Tartary. Like them, they have great respect for the aged,\nwhose advice in most matters has great weight. Some of the older women,\neven bondwomen in former times, attain great influence in the tribe as\nsoothsayers, due as much to their venerable appearance as to any pretense\nthey may make of working medicine charms. They are remarkably fond of\nand indulgent to their children, rarely chastising them. Between the\nsexes the rights of women are respected and the terms of equality on\nwhich the men and women live are very striking to most visitors of the\nregion. Although marriage is essentially by purchase, and the question of\nmorality of the wife solely one of sanction by the husband, yet even this\nrestriction is centuries in advance of their Northern neighbors where\npromiscuity and the most bestial practices prevail. The early voyagers\ninvariably mentioned Haidas as modest and reserved in bearing. The moral\nvirtues of these people have faded considerably in the presence of the\nnew civilization with its artificial needs of finery and luxuries.\nThe vices of civilization have had a most demoralizing effect on the\ninhabitants of Queen Charlotte and the Prince of Wales islands. Like\nmost savages they are inveterate gamblers and have a strong craving for\ntobacco and alcohol. In their disregard for the lives of slaves and in\ntheir practice of acquitting murderers or other criminals by exacting\nthe payment of indemnity to the relatives of the injured, is seen simply\nthe customs, the operations of which, with them, has the force of law.\nMurder, seduction, the refusal to marry a widow according to law, causes\ngeneral war, but any wrong may be righted by the paying of an indemnity\nof the region. In writing of this subject Sir James Douglas, governor of\nBritish Columbia, during the administration of the Hudsons Bay company,\nsays: \u201cIf unmarried women prove frail, the partner of their guilt is\nbound to make reparation to the parents, soothing their wounded honor\nwith handsome presents. A failure to do this would cause the friends\nof the offending fair one to use force to back up their demands and to\nrevenge the insult. It must not, however, be supposed they would be\ninduced to act this part from any sense of reflected shame, or from any\ndesire of discouraging vice by making a severe example of the vicious,\nor deem the girl the worse for the accident, or her character in any\nway blemished. Such are not their feelings, for the offender is simply\nregarded as a robber who has committed depredations on their merchandise,\ntheir only anxiety being to make the damages exacted as heavy as\npossible.\u201d\n\n[Illustration: HAIDA THUNDER-MASK]\n\nTo such an extent was this question of indemnity carried, that when the\nRussians tried to interfere with the killing of slaves on ceremonial\noccasions, they were only successful in preventing it by ransoming the\nproposed victim. And many were the exactions of the Indians for damages\non account of the accidental deaths in the employ of whites.\n\nAlong with the other artistic characteristics of these people, they are\nexceedingly fond of singing and dancing. Some of them have rich voices.\nTheir rude, savage songs are not without melody and many of their weird\ndances, by the music of various shaped and boistrous drums, exhibit\nconsiderable art, especially of imitation. Their imitations of various\nbirds and wild animals, darting in all directions, screaming like\nseagulls, howling like wolves and screeching like wild geese, imitating\nthe fierce, harsh music of the brown bear, the cries of great eagles\nand ravens, are all worthy of special mention. They bathe frequently\nin the sea, but on the other hand, continually daub their faces,\nbodies and heads with grease and paint. However, this latter custom is\nlargely disappearing except on ceremonial occasions. They were formerly\nindifferent to the stench of decaying animal matter, but have improved\nwonderfully in recent years. They are still indifferent to the sanitary\nlaws of ventilation and betray a great fondness for putrid salmon and\nherring noses, and rancid fish and seal grease. A visit to many of the\nHaida houses where they have not come to using stoves is still quite a\ntrying ordeal to the uninitiated.\n\nTotemism governs the whole tribal organization of the Indians on Queen\nCharlotte and the Prince of Wales islands. The ceremonies at birth,\ninitiation, naming, matrimony, feasting, dancing, funerals and all other\nsocial occasions, have for their object, in some way, the identity of the\nphratery, more than of the totem or the carved image of the animal chosen\nto represent him.\n\nBirth-rights, such as property, rank wealth, etc., are received from\nthe mother. The question as to who is the father of a child is of but\nlittle importance. The household is not the unit of the totem or of the\nphratery, as more than one totem is represented in each, the father\nbelonging to one totem and the mother to another. Besides this, a brother\nand his wife may belong to the household, or a sister and her husband;\nthus numerous totems may be represented under one roof.\n\nIn the ordinary sense there is no absolute chieftainship. The family\nis the political unit. The richest head of a household or the one who\nhas the greatest number of influential relations predominates over the\nrest and is nominally the chief of the village. His authority is shadowy\nand is dependent largely, aside from wealth and family influence, on\npersonal prowess in time of war, or on an aggressive personality. In\nshort the prominence of the chief is all that he can make it by the arts\nof assertion, bargain, intrigue, wealth, display and personal prowess.\nThere are also petty chiefs who represent the principal clan totems or\nhouseholds. For each household is with them a subordinate government. The\nhead chief merely overshadows in the extent of his influence, the petty\nchiefs. Often reverses of fortune turns the tables so that some decline\nin influence, while others rise in importance. Often the medicine men or\nshamens unite with the chiefs to strengthen each other in the fear and\nrespect of the people. And bitter are many of the feuds arising from the\nrivalries of households struggling for power in the tribe.\n\nAs a rule a chief is not treated with any marked deference except upon\nceremonial occasions when many marks of respect are shown him. When\nengaged in treaty-making it is common to see him carried on the shoulders\nof his attendants, as well as being made the central figure of many\npompous ceremonies. Slavery was common among them up to the acquisition\nof Alaska by the United States government in 1867. The slaves did all\nthe drudgery, fished and hunted for their master; and strengthened his\nforces in time of war. When they were too old to work they were for\nthe most part killed and many of them were sacrificed on ceremonial\noccasions. They were never allowed to marry or hold property.\n\nCouncils were usually called only on occasions or necessity, there being\nno stated period for them. Women usually had as much to say in these\nmeetings as men, especially on questions of trade, when their advice was\nalways given whether it was sought or not. However, they usually kept\nmum on ceremonial occasions. In these deliberative bodies they sit in a\nsquatting position with legs crossed and deliver formal speeches in turn\nwhich are heard with wrapt attention and approved by grunts and various\nother signs.\n\nIn the division of labor men and women are quite nearly equal among the\nHaidas. The men are the warriors and hunters although a women of rank\ngenerally steers the war canoe. The different kinds of work are usually\ndivided among the people according to their skill. Some are exclusively\nimplement makers, others are wood carvers, and many of the women follow\nbasket making as a trade. Every chief keeps a man employed constantly\nas a canoe maker. A visitor to a Haida camp will be struck with the\napparent equality of the sexes. The woman is always free with advice, and\na distinguished traveler has said cases of \u201chen-pecked\u201d husbands are not\nrare.\n\nVery peculiar laws of inheritance and relationship exist among the Haida\npeople. First cousins may marry, but totally unrelated persons of the\nsame phratery cannot. In wars between households a groom may be called\nupon to bear arms against his father-in-law on account of some feud of\ntrifling importance. Poligamy is tolerated but seldom practiced.\n\nProperty is inherited by the brother of the deceased, a brother\u2019s son,\na sister\u2019s son, or the mother in the order named in the absence of the\npreceding one. As a rule the wife gets nothing but her own dowry. Whoever\ninherits the property, if he be a brother or a brother\u2019s or sister\u2019s\nson, must either marry the widow or pay an indemnity to her relatives.\nIn case the heir is already married, the next in succession takes her;\nfor instance, the brother may inherit the property and the nephew get the\nwidow. It will be observed that by the laws and customs of the Haidas,\nthey not only prevent the accumulation of wealth and power in one branch\nof a family and allow it to grow opulent, corrupt and rotten, but provide\nfor the widows as well. It is the duty of the heir within a year after\nthe cremation or burial of the deceased to erect a commemorative column\nat the grave or elsewhere in honor of him. It usually contains his crest\nor sub-totem at the top and recites some of the leading incidents of his\nlife. Among the Haidas conjugal virtues have only a commercial value.\nThey are something to be bought and sold. One Haida thinks nothing of\nselling his wife to another provided he can get his price. And cases of\none Indian renting his wife to another are very common.\n\nMr. McLeod tells the story of a case of this kind shortly after the\nestablishment of a justice court at Houkan. It was, by the way, the first\ncase that was called for trial in said court. One Indian was quite deeply\nindebted to the other, so in order to satisfy the debt he rented his wife\nto his creditor for a couple of weeks. At the expiration of the appointed\ntime the Indian refused to return the wife to her rightful owner, and the\ninjured husband appealed to the strong arm of American law to recover his\nproperty.\n\nTatooing on the breast and arms of Haidas is quite general. They\nare usually representations of some totem and commemorate deeds and\nadventures of their lives. The women usually wear earrings and bracelets,\nand rings are often worn through the noses of chiefs.\n\nAlthough the methods of sepulture have changed in recent years, the\nceremonies remain much as they formerly were. On the demise of an\nimportant personage it is customary to array the body in ceremonial\napparel and surround it with the tokens of his or her wealth. Thus laid\nout in state the relatives and friends view the remains. In case that it\nis a great chief who is well-known, Indians come from other villages, and\nthe body is thus displayed until in an advanced stage of decomposition,\nwhen the final rites take place. In former times many of the slaves of\nthe deceased were dispatched at the funeral. During the first day\u2019s\nceremonies the body was borne to the pyre, which had been constructed in\nthe rear of some house formerly owned by the deceased, and reduced to\nashes. In the meantime the mourners gathered themselves around the pyre\nand with painted faces, their hair cut short, and their heads sprinkled\nwith eagles\u2019 down they bewailed in the most dismal manner, the loss of\ntheir kinsman. The service usually closes with a feast. The ashes were\npreserved and deposited in a box near the top of the commemorative column\nerected in honor of the deceased. In recent times the burial custom has\ntaken the place of cremation.\n\nThe houses of the Haidas are remarkable for their strength and comfort.\nTheir frame consists of huge logs, often two or more feet in diameter,\nas posts planted securely in the ground, and large log plates of equal\nproportions resting on them. The remainder of the frame is heavy and\nstrong in proportion. The posts are so beveled in the sides that they\nhold the hewn planks in position, that compose the wall, while those\nthat constitute the roof are held in place by the weight of rocks. The\nsmoke holes are so arranged that protection can readily be shifted from\none side to the other so that the wind won\u2019t blow down through it. The\ndimensions of these houses are often 18\u00d720 feet, and 12 or 15 feet high.\nThe various timbers are placed in position by the aid of rope guys. The\nwork of building a house often extends over a period of several years,\nas most of the timbers are very heavy to handle by hand and must be\ncarved before being placed in position. Great crowds are employed in\nbuilding these houses and great festivities are indulged in on the days\noccupied in the raising of the huge timber into position, corresponding\nto our lifting-bees, so common in the rural districts. The houses are\ngenerally made of Sitka spruce and yellow cedar wood.\n\n[Illustration: SKAMSON THE THUNDERER\u2014HAIDA TATOOING]\n\nThe great totem columns in front of the houses are usually upwards of\ntwo feet in diameter and vary considerably in height. They are for the\nmost part carved out of yellow cedar wood by the native artist employed\nfor the occasion to commemorate the great achievements of the wealthy\nhouse-holder, to celebrate the glory of his ancestors and record the more\ninteresting traditions of his totem.\n\nThese columns are never taken down or removed, but are allowed to stand\nuntil, in many places, only the decayed stump remains. In Houkan large\nnumbers of totem columns are standing where the houses have long since\nfallen down and many of them will be found in dense thickets. There\nis one in front of the residence of Rev. J. L. Gould that has quite a\nspruce tree growing in the top of it. The tall columns shown in the\nillustration, in front of the houses, record the adventures, genealogy\nand legends of the owner, and his totem. The shorter ones at the corners\nof the houses, and in grave yards, are commemorative columns erected in\nhonor of a former occupant of the house.\n\nNo one is allowed to execute these carvings among the Haidas until he has\nfirst had the medicine inoculated into his fingers by the shamens.\n\n[Illustration: CORNER OF THE VILLAGE OF HOUKAN]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXIV\n\nMYTHOLOGY AND NATIVE HISTORY\n\n\nThe column with the great heads on top, shown in the illustration, tells\nquite an interesting story. It is variously told in different localities,\nhowever, the versions differ only in the minor details.\n\nThe top group represents the head of an European with whitened face and\nlong black beard, flanked on either side by children wearing tall hats,\nand represents the following legend:\n\nA very long time ago a chief\u2019s wife left the temporary camp used by the\nIndians during the summer season, and taking her two small children with\nher she went in a small fishing canoe across the narrows to get some\nspruce boughs on which salmon eggs could be collected. She drew up her\ncanoe on the beach and warned her children not to wander off. On her\nreturn nothing was seen of the children, they having disappeared. Many\ntimes she called to them, and they always answered her from the woods\nwith voices of crows. Always when she sought them, two crows mocked her\nfrom the trees. The children never returned and it was said that a white\ntrader kidnaped them and carried them off in his ship. The face with the\nbeard represents the European, and the figures on either side are the\nkidnaped children which he is taking away with him.\n\nWhether or not this story was founded on facts cannot be learned\ndefinitely. However, some form of it is found in nearly every Haida\nvillage, and as a nursery tale to frighten refractory children it is a\ngreat favorite.\n\nNext proceeding down the column is Hootzy, the wolf, and the children,\nand below it is the mother bent over and weeping bitterly. The woman,\nKitsinao, of the crow totem, had many children and was very proud of them\n(many with the Haida means more than four). She scoffed at the woman of\nthe wolf totem who had but one puny child. The feelings of the woman\nwere wounded so she appealed to her totem for protection and aid. A band\nof huge Siberian wolves at once descended from the woods that line the\nborders of those great hills and killed all of the sons and daughters of\nthe crow mother. The mother was very sad and sat down on a rock and wept\nbitterly all the days of her life. In time she became incorporated with\nit and to this day a traveler on the Prince of Wales island who chances\nto call into American bay will see this modern Niobe bent over and\nweeping bitterly. The Haida asks no questions as to the authenticity of\nthese stories, the fact that they have been carved on wood and slate, and\nthat the said rock is in existence is conclusive proof to him.\n\nNext comes the story of the seagull, the beaver, and the beaver\u2019s\ndaughter.\n\nAt one time there lived on the solitary shore of Daal island a beaver\nwith his only daughter, Cawk. His wife had long been dead and the two had\nled a quiet life together. Cawk grew to be a handsome girl and all the\nyouths of Houkan, as well as others from far and near came to sue for\nher hand, but none of them could touch her proud heart. Finally, at the\nthawing of the snow in the spring, a great seagull flew over the sea to\nthe beaver\u2019s house and wooed Miss Cawk with his enticing song:\n\n Come to me! Come into the land of the birds where there is never hunger,\n Where my house is made of the most beautiful woods,\n You shall rest on soft bear skins.\n My companions, the gulls, shall bring you food.\n Their feathers shall clothe you,\n Your fire shall always be supplied with fuel.\n Your basket shall always be filled with meat.\n\n[Illustration: HAIDA GRAVE YARD\u2014SHOWING TOTEM OF DEAD]\n\nCawk could not long resist such wooing and they went together over the\nvast sea. When at last they reached the country in which the gull had\nhis home, Cawk discovered that her spouse had shamefully deceived her.\nHer new home was not built of beautiful woods, but was only a tent of\nfish skins, which were full of holes. It was a most wretched place that\ngave free entrance to wind and snow. Instead of soft bear skins, her\nbed was made of miserable hard hair-seal hides, and her only food was\nthe disgusting, half rotten fish which the birds brought her. Too soon\nshe discovered that she had thrown away her opportunities when, in her\nfoolish pride, she had rejected the Houkan youth. In her woe she sang:\n\n Sung! Oh, Father:\n If you knew how wretched I am you would come to me and we would hurry\n away in your canoe over the waters.\n The birds look unkindly upon a stranger in their camp.\n Cold winds roar about my bed.\n They give me miserable food.\n Oh, come father, and take me home again.\n\nWhen a year was passed all the sea was again stirred by warmer winds,\nthe father left his home opposite Houkan to visit his daughter Cawk. His\ndaughter greeted him joyfully and begged of him to take her back home.\nThe father hearing of the outrages wrought upon his daughter determined\nupon revenge. He killed the gull, took Cawk into his canoe and quickly\nleft the country which had brought so much sorrow to the daughter. When\nthe other gulls came home and found their companion dead and his wife\ngone, they all flew away in search of the fugitives. They were very sad\nover the death of their poor murdered comrade and continue to mourn and\ncry until this day.\n\nHaving flown a short distance they saw the canoe and stirred up a heavy\nstorm. The sea rose in immense waves and threatened the pair with\ndestruction. In this mortal peril the selfish father determined to offer\nCawk to the birds and flung her overboard. She clung to the edge of the\ncanoe with a death grip. The cruel father then took a knife and cut off\nthe joints of her fingers. The joint of the first finger falling into\nthe sea was transformed into a whale, and the nail became whale bone.\nThe joints of the second finger became grampuses, or killers, while the\nnail was transformed into those great fins which are so conspicuous in\nthe Haida\u2019s representation of the killer. The remainder of the joints\nswam away as salmon, herring, codfish, sea otters, hair seals, and fur\nseals. In the meantime the storm had abated for the gulls thought Cawk\nwas drowned. The father then allowed her to come into the boat again.\nBut from that time she cherished a deadly hatred against him and swore\nbitter revenge. After they got ashore she called her totem guardians, the\nwolves, and let them gnaw off the feet and hands of her father, while\nhe was asleep. Upon waking the beaver cursed himself, his daughter and\nthe wolves which had thus crippled him; whereupon the earth opened and\nswallowed the hut, the father, the daughter and the wolves.\n\nUpon the whole, the column just described may be said to be purely\nlegendary, yet it seems quite generally to refer to the wolf totem.\n\nIn front of the residence of Chief Schooltka is also a column that\nis full of interest. It was erected by himself and the carvings were\nexecuted with steel instruments, so that superior designs and neater\nworkmanship have been obtained.\n\nAt the top of it is his crest or sub-totem, the eagle. The various\ncarvings trace in a general way the history of family for several\ngenerations back, such as marriages of one totem with another. For\ninstance, the bear to the eagle, the wolf to the raven, etc. It also\nindicates the number of children in each family, and the manner of\ndeath that ended their lives by some conventional means that is\nreadily understood by the Haida. About midway down the pole is a rude\nrepresentation of a Russian priest of the Greek church with his hands\nfolded across his breast in reverential manner, with crude images of\nangels around him and beneath it is the only legend carved on the column,\nit is the bear and butterfly story, which is worth repeating:\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXV\n\nYALTH, AND THE BUTTERFLY\n\n\nIn the beginning, when Yalth, the great raven, the friend and benefactor\nof the human race, was looking for a good region for men to occupy, the\nbutterfly hovered over his head as he flew. When he came to the country\nnow occupied by the Haida nations, the butterfly pointed with his\nproboscis to the good lands and said, \u201cWhere the bear are, there salmon,\nsprouts and good living will be found in abundance;\u201d so that accounts for\nthe residence of the Haidas on the Prince of Wales island, and for bear\nliving so plentifully in that region.\n\nAt the base of the column is the beaver, the totem of Schooltka\u2019s wife\nand children.\n\nAt one corner of his house is a commemorative column somewhat shorter\nthan the totem column erected to his memory. Among other events pictured\non the incompleted column is his cordial welcome to the missionary and\nthe children with books in their hands, illustrate quite truthfully the\nattitude toward the whites of this most truly noble Indian of the Haida\nrace. He was always the friend of the white man, and when the Rev. J. L.\nGould, the Presbyterian missionary arrived in the village, he received\na warm welcome from Schooltka. His comfortable house was placed at the\ndisposal of the missionary and his family, and the mission school was\nconducted there for several years. The chief has now been dead several\nyears, but leaves a wife who possesses many of his good qualities and\nshares in his friendship for the whites.\n\nA visit to the home of Mrs. Schooltka would not be without interest. The\nhouse is a modern form of Haida dwelling, covering quite an extensive\narea and two stories in height, but constructed of huge timbers and hewed\nboards in Haida fashion. One wishing to enter is conducted down several\nsteps to the door, which opens on the first floor, which is several feet\nbelow the level of the ground. One large room includes all the lower\nportion of the house. The great posts which compose its massive frame\nare richly carved and painted with various traditions of the race, tribe\nand family. Slate and wood carving rattles, carved instruments, models\nof various shaped canoes and soldier clothes are scattered hither and\nthither. There is a stage-like platform about six feet in width reaching\nquite around a room which is only partially lighted by two windows in the\nfront of the house. In the center of the room a large box stove has taken\nthe place of the crude fireplace and smoke hole of their more savage\ndays. In one corner is a modern cooking stove with its pots, kettles,\npans, skillets, etc., showing that civilized methods of cooking have\nsuperceded the old way of cooking meat and fish on sticks, or by roasting\nin holes dug in the ground under a hot fire. Mrs. Schooltka has found\nan easier way of boiling her food than by putting it in a water-tight\nbasket, covering it with water and casting hot stones into it. But after\nall the most strikingly interesting figure in the room is Mrs. Schooltka\nherself. In stature she is short and stout, though her figure is by no\nmeans repulsive. She possesses a very alert expression of countenance\nand her face is on the whole pleasing. Though about 40 years of age, one\nwould think her very much younger, owing to the absence of wrinkles in\nher face. She takes a keen interest in everything, and never tires of\ntelling stories of her late husband. A visitor would no doubt be much\namused at the very indefinite idea of time which these Indians have.\nThus, if this good, but simple-minded woman is asked how long she lived\nwith her husband, her answer will be, in mixed English and Chinook,\n\u201cKlo-nass, ni-ka ha-lo, cum-tux; nika tum-tum klone hundred years,\u201d\nmeaning that she was not sure, but thought she had lived with him about\n300 years.\n\n[Illustration: MRS. SCHOOLTKA, WHO LIVED 300 YEARS WITH HER HUSBAND]\n\nThere is one thing in which the Haidas differ widely from other Indians:\nthey are not fond of bright colors in their clothing, black being always\npreferred. Even in their shawls and handkerchiefs they prefer that they\nbe black or some other conservative color. Missionary societies sending\nthem second-handed clothing make a great mistake in this particular.\n\nThough the Haidas are as fond of display as formerly their ceremonial\ndances, in which the whole tribe engaged, are now rare, in fact they\nhave not been seen for several years. The spirit of imitation has taken\nhold of the Haida and he now copies the methods of Europeans in such\nmatters. Most of the petty chiefs have been to Victoria, B. C., and seen\nthe soldiers drill. They have also witnessed the operations of the fire\ndepartment of that place.\n\n[Illustration: SILVER AND COPPER ORNAMENTS\n\nHAIDA INDIANS]\n\nCopying British styles they have uniformed themselves with red\ncoats, forming quite a large army, and have a brilliantly uniformed\nfire company. Their parades are frequent and they present a very\nself-important, if not formidable, appearance as they march proudly\nalong, keeping time to the wild, grand music of the tribes, their own\nboisterous drums, and the native whistles and trumpets, through their\nrough narrow streets, performing various evolutions and halting to drill.\nIndifferent whether armed with guns or sticks, many of the swords of the\nofficers being of wood, they draw up in line, go through the facings,\nmarching and counter-marching, the manual of arms and various other\nexercises. Conspicuous on such occasions is Mr. John, whose portrait\nis here presented. He is very ambitious to become one of the general\nofficers of the army. So, as often as the drilling day comes around he\ncalls on the Rev. Gould, who was a soldier in the late civil war, for\ninstructions in military tactics. On one occasion the good man asked\nhim if he expected to learn in a moment what it took him (Mr. Gould)\nthree years to learn. This discouraged Mr. John for a time, but he soon\nrecovered and is now occasionally a military pupil of Mr. Gould\u2019s. The\nparades of the fire company are pompous and magnificent, but damaging\nstories are told of them so far as their real usefulness is concerned.\nOne evening Mr. E. T. McLeod looked out of the door of his store and\nbeheld one of the Indian\u2019s houses in flames. With the aid of a fire\nextinguisher and a little water he quickly quenched the blaze before the\nfire company arrived. The Indians who composed the company were very\nangry with him for not waiting until they could get their suits on and\nreach the scene in dress parade uniform. The latter incident illustrates\nthe childish notions of a savage race capable of a high degree of\ncultivation.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXVI\n\nPOTLATCH AND DEVIL DANCE\n\n\nThe potlatch was the greatest institution of the Indian and is to this\nday. It was the crowning glory of the Indian life and worth the meade\nof a thousand victories over the foe. It was the ambition of the hyas\ntyee, the politics of every ruler who could secure wealth enough to\naccomplish the great and glorious end. It impoverished the giver but\nbrought gladness to the hearts of the people, and honor ever after to\nhim who gave. It was a beautiful custom; beautiful in the eyes of the\nnatives of high or low degree, confined to no particular tribe but to\nbe met with everywhere along the coast. It no doubt had its origin far\nback in the misty past. Come from whence\u2014who can tell? Perhaps, through\nthe generations of the world down through all the ups and downs and\nchanges and variation of mankind, keeping step with that most beautiful\nof all civilized customs, the gifts of Yuletide, for Christ\u2019s sake, and\nperchance the very same origin marked the beginning of both.\n\nBefore the introduction of the cloths and implements of civilized man,\nthe simple native satisfied himself and the people by giving of those\nthings he could gather from the chase or manufacture by his crude arts.\nSkins of wild animals fancifully wrought and colored, the wild ponies\nof his herds, bows and arrows, his canoes, everything he sacrificed on\nthe altar of the potlatch which meant a gift, to give, etc. When he was\nenabled to get blankets, knives, guns, etc., from the whites the potlatch\ntook a wider range and not even the glittering yellow gold was spared\nthe sacrifice. The great day set so many suns or moons ahead, arrived,\ngreat was the interest and excitement of the occasion. From far and near\nassembled the invited guests and tribes and with feasting, singing,\nchanting and dancing, the bounteous collection was distributed; a chief\nwas made penniless, the wealth of a life time was dissipated in an hour,\nbut his head forever after was crowned with the glory of a satisfied\nambition; he had won the honor and reverence of the people.\n\nThe gifts were not always preserved by the recipients, especially with\nsome of the Sound tribes for it was a work of a noble unselfish brave to\nimmediately destroy whatever had been thrown to him. So it was that fine\nnew blankets, guns, bows and arrows and the like were often destroyed\nscarcely before they touched the ground. At the Old-Man-House potlatches\nhave been given within the residency of the whites when the frenzied\nIndians have fallen upon a shower of gifts and soon had them entirely\ndestroyed. The blankets, easily secured by barter with the Hudsons Bay\ncompany\u2019s agents, were usually hung up and with knives and daggers would\nin a twinkling be slashed and cut into hundreds of fragments and strips.\nThe blankets in those days cost a great deal of money, $10 to $20 a pair,\nso that in a very short time hundreds of dollars worth of valuables would\nsoon be destroyed.\n\nBack in the distant past and not within the memory of the Indians of\nto-day the ceremony had its attendant features of a more heathenish kind,\nfor the blood of sacrifice was spilled as a more fitting observance of\nthe grand occasion. Slaves succumbed to the horrible rites and moaned\nout their death chants which blended and contrasted with the mirthful\nsong of their possessors, engaged for the time in their dance of blood.\nAn incident of the awful tragedies is inspiringly told, if such a\nconstruction can be put upon it, by an early missionary, an eye witness,\nwhose description is re-clothed in the splendid words of Hezzekiah\nButterworth:\n\n\u201cI once witnessed a potlatch and I hope I may never see such a scene\nagain. I had landed among a tribe of northern Indians on the Whulge,\nwhere I had gathered a little church some months before, and I expected\nto hold a meeting on the night I arrived in one of the canoes. The place\nwas deserted; the woods were all silent. Sunset flashed his red light\nalong the sea, such a sunset as one only sees here in these northern\nlatitudes. A wannish glare of smoky crimson lingering long into the\nnight. As soon as the sun went down I began to hear a piping sound like\nbirds in all the woods around. The calls answered one another everywhere.\nI had never heard a sound like that. I tried to approach one of the\nsounds but it receded before me.\n\n\u201cSuddenly a great fire blazed up and lit the sky. I approached it; it\nwas built on a little prairie. Near it was a large platform covered with\ncanoes, blankets, pressed fish, berry cakes, soap\u2014clayey or berry soap,\nwampum and beads. Not an Indian was in sight save one. She was an old\nsquaw bound to a stake or tree.\n\n\u201c\u2018What is this?\u2019 I asked in Chinook.\n\n\u201c\u2018Cultus tee-hee.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Cultus tee-hee?\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Dah-blo!\u2019\n\n\u201cShe wailed in Chinook.\n\n\u201c\u2018When\u2014tamala?\u2019 (to-morrow.)\n\n\u201c\u2018Ding Ding\u2019\u2014\n\n\u201c\u2018Cultus tee-hee.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Cultus hee-hee.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Dah-blo!\u2019\n\n\u201cThen I knew that all was preparation for a potlatch, and that there was\nto be a devil dance\u2014ding ding\u2014at that very hour.\n\n\u201cIt was a night of the full moon, as such a night would be selected for\nsuch a ceremony. The moon rose red in the smoky air, and the sounds like\nthe bird calls grew louder and wilder. Then there was a yell; it was\nanswered everywhere, and hundreds of Indians in paint and masks came\nrunning out of the timber upon the prairie. Some were on all fours, some\nhad the heads of beasts, fishes and birds, some had wings and many tails.\n\n\u201cThen came biters attended by raving squaws. The biters were to tear\nthe flesh from the arms of any who were not found at the dance after a\ncertain hour.\n\n\u201cNow the drums began to beat and the shells to blow. Indians poured out\nof the woods in paint, blankets and beads.\n\n\u201cA great circle dance was formed; the ta-mahn-a-wis or spirit dance was\nenacted. Great gifts were made as at a pow-wow or wah-wah. Then the dark\ncrowd grew frantic, and under the full moon gleaming on high came the\ndevil\u2019s dance.\n\n\u201cThe first victim was a live dog. He was seized, torn in pieces and eaten\nby the dancers, so as to redden their faces with blood. The yells were\nnow more furious; the dancers leaped into the air and circled around the\nold woman tied to the tree.\n\n\u201cI will not describe the sickening sight that followed; I will only say\nthat the old hag, who was accused of casting an evil eye, shared the same\nfate as the dog.\n\n\u201cWhy do you worship the devil?\u2019 I asked an exhausted brave the next day.\n\n\u201c\u2018Good spirits always good; him we no fear. Please the devil and him no\nharm you. All well\u2014happy; good ta-mahn-a-wis, bad ta-mahn-a-wis, see?\u2019\u201d\n\nIt was plain\u2014the old philosophy of the sinking sailor who prayed \u2018good\nlord! good devil!\u2019 The tradition was\u2014it came out of the long past\u2014that\nthe devil must be appeased.\n\n[Illustration: QUINIAULT TRIBESMAN]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXVII\n\nTHE T\u2019KLINKITS AND ALEUTS\n\n\nThe T\u2019Klinkit is the name applied to all the Indians on the upper coast\nwho reside between the north end of Prince of Wales island and Yakutat\nbay, near the base of Mt. St. Elias.\n\nThese T\u2019Klinkits are divided into so-called tribes; virtually families,\nthe chieftainship descending through the female line. The T\u2019Klinkits were\ngenerally known to the Siwash of Puget Sound under the general name of\nStickeens.\n\nAmong the principal families of T\u2019Klinkits are the Stickeens, located\non the Stikeen river, which is near Fort Wrangle; the Takous and Aukos,\nwhose headquarters are in Takou inlet and on the present site of Juneau;\nthe Chilkats and Chilkoots, at the present head of navigation near\nPyramid harbor; the Hoonyas, near Glacier bay, and the Hootzenoos, near\nthe present town of Killisnoo, and the Sitkas, on Baranoff island.\nThe Sitkas are really composed of two families\u2014the Kaksutis and the\nKokwautans.\n\nIn 1858 Commander Meade, U. S. N., found it necessary to reduce to ashes\ntwo villages of the Kake Indians on Kiou island, on account of the murder\nof innocent prospectors. These Kake Indians are the most hostile of any\nof the Alaska families. They are probably not T\u2019Klinkits. It has been\nurged by some that they, as well as the Haidas, just to the south of\nthem, are descendants of the ancient Aztecs of Mexico, who were driven\nout upon the fall of the great Montezuma.\n\nLater outbreaks occurred among the northern Indians as late as 1879.\nThe garrison at Sitka, which had been established in 1877, had been\nwithdrawn, and Catlian, chief of the Kaksutis, had an idea, and so\ninformed all the T\u2019Klinkits, that the United States had abandoned the\ncountry; the natives were sole owners, and all persons in the country\nwere there at their peril. He first started off making orations at Sitka,\nwhere he stirred up the young men of his family to attempt the massacre\nof all the residents of Sitka, telling his friends that \u201cthey could kill\neverybody, loot the stores, secure enough to keep them several years,\ntake to the mountains, and in a year or so all would be forgotten by the\nUnited States government.\u201d Luckily for the people of Sitka, Annahootz,\nthe chief of the Kokwautans, learned of Catlian\u2019s threats, and one\nevening when a crowd of drunken Kaksutis attempted to pass the stockade\nbetween what is called Indian Town and Sitka, Annahootz, with several of\nhis young men met them at the gate. A skirmish took place. Annahootz was\nbadly wounded, but prevented Catlian\u2019s crowd from reaching the citizens.\n\n[Illustration: YAKUTAT, ALASKA]\n\nThe then collector of customs, Col. M. D. Ball, as far as possible armed\nthe citizens, who patroled the town night and day until the arrival of\nthe mail steamer from the Sound. An urgent request was forwarded the\ngovernment for help, and help was also asked from the British government\nat Victoria. The American government being dilatory, Capt. A\u2019Court,\nof H. M. S. Osprey, went immediately to the scene of trouble. Through\nthe urgent representations of Major Wm. Gouveneur Morris, at that time\nspecial agent of the treasury department (afterwards collector of customs\nfor Alaska), the revenue marine steamer Wolcott was immediately sent\nnorth. As soon as orders could be given, the United States corvette\nAlaska was sent to Sitka. Upon the arrival of the Wolcott, Capt. A\u2019Court\noffered the hospitalities of his cabin to Mrs. Ball and family to convey\nthem from the scene of trouble. Col. Ball thought he, with the assistance\nof the Wolcott and Alaska, could hold the natives in shape, and declined\nthe offer. The trouble blew over, as Catlian saw he was over-matched. The\nAlaska sailed south, and trouble again being threatened the Jamestown was\nordered to that port. Under the wise regulations of Captains Beardsley\nand Glass, Indian Town (so called) was cleansed, whitewashed, the\nturbulent natives being made policemen and carried on the rolls of the\nship as landsmen. They liked their authority, and with their big tin\nstars, brass buttons and blue uniforms kept the place in good order.\n\nThe only other trouble was in 1883, at the Hootzenoo village uprising,\nwhen Capt. Merriman, of the navy, was forced to destroy the village, for\nwhich he was afterwards court-martialed and acquitted.\n\nThe Chilkats and Kakes have, up to this time, had the reputations of\nbeing the worst in Alaska.\n\nOf the T\u2019Klinkits and their peculiar customs and changed conditions at\nthe present day, the _Alaska Searchlight_ in March last had the following\nto say:\n\n\u201cInter-tribal wars among the natives of southeastern Alaska have become\nthings of the past. A century\u2019s contact with the whites has made the\nT\u2019Klinkits a changed people, differing in exact ratio as that association\nhas been the more or less intimate. Gone forever are their most striking\ncharacteristics, their native customs and institutions, until today\ntheir warlike achievements live only in song and story. Shamenism,\nwitchcraft and slavery have disappeared before the growing power of the\nwhite man as the dreams of night are chased away by the morning sun;\nbut as in bosky dell or depth of woodland shade the dewy shadows linger\nlongest, so traces of former customs still remain among those natives\nfarthest removed from the white man\u2019s influence. Fierce and bloody were\nthe frequent wars waged among the different tribes before they felt the\nrule of the Russians, who did all in their power to divert the attention\nof the Indians from warfare to the less dangerous pursuit of hunting.\nGradually they caught the spirit of trade which actuated their new and\npowerful neighbors, and adapted new methods for the settlement of their\nfeuds and differences. In time blankets and other articles of value came\nto be received in payment for insulted dignity or outraged honor, for\nwhich formerly no atonement was known save that of blood. Captives of war\nbecame slaves to their captors and passed their lives in bondage, unless\nfortune chanced to smile upon the standards of their people and they\nwere retaken by them. The T\u2019Klinkits waged war upon the British Columbia\nIndians and took from them many prisoners. At times the most warlike\ntribes held a considerable number of slaves, but as marriages among them\nwere of rare occurrence, and their number depleted by sacrifice, when\nthe wars ceased, thus cutting off the source of supply, slavery soon\ndied out, until at the present time there are no slaves left. An old\ndoctor at the village on the Takou river has a man with him who is said\nto be a slave, but he has so many opportunities to escape and implore\nthe protection of the law that either he must be free or does not find\nhis bondage irksome. Kuh-hahla-tloo-ut was formerly a slave. Her face is\nan exceedingly good type of the old T\u2019Klinkit women, who have learned\npatience and submission through long years of toil and hardship. Report\nhas it that there is one slave at the Chilkat village of Klak-wan, but\npractically he is free, although at one time he was owned by a former\nchief. Under the Russian rule wars among the T\u2019Klinkit tribes became of\nrare occurrence, but the number of slaves was kept up by purchase from\nthe Indians of British Columbia, chiefly the Flatheads. Throughout the\nhistory of the world in all climes and under all conditions slavery has\npresented the same general characteristics, and among the T\u2019Klinkits\nthere was no exception to the rule. Slaves had no civil rights whatever.\nThey could own no property; whatever came to them through labor or gift\nbelonged to the master. They could not marry without his consent, which\nwas rarely ever given. When liberated, as they sometimes were, they\nranked the lowest among the people and were counted with their mother\u2019s\nclan. On festive occasions they were often killed or set free. At the\ndeath of a chief or head man it was customary to kill one or more slaves,\nsometimes ten or fifteen, that they might accompany their master and\nserve him in the life beyond this earthly existence. The killing of these\nslaves was attended with but little pomp or ceremony, their death was the\none thing to be accomplished. Among the Chilkats, it would be decided in\na secret council which of the slaves should be put to death. Unconscious\nof their impending doom they would be struck down from behind with a\nhuge stone hammer. Able-bodied slaves were seldom sacrificed, as they\nwere considered of too much value, but the old and diseased were usually\nselected as victims. If a slave should learn of his doom and succeed in\nescaping or concealing himself he was allowed to live, and after the\nfestivities were over might return to the house of his master with no\nfear of punishment. Chiefs often used to help favorite slaves make their\nescape. After death the body of a slave received no more honor than that\nof a dog. It was denied the right of cremation and thrown upon the beach,\nfood for the wolves, the fish and the birds. On the last evening of great\nfeasts the host would retire to a corner of the house accompanied by\nall his slaves and don his finest costume\u2014one kept especially for such\noccasions. His favorite slave would be called upon to dress him, and\nwould receive for his services his freedom. One or more of the others\nwould be put to death, and after the sacrifice the valor of the chief\nand his ancestors would be sung, and a distribution of gifts take place.\nSometimes a host would present guests whom he wished to honor greatly\nwith one or more slaves. At the potlatch at Klakwan last fall the wolf\nrobe of the chief was taken from its hiding place and shown the people,\nand no blood sacrifice demanded, though the last time their eyes rested\nupon this much-prized relic it is said that six slaves were killed to do\nhonor to the host.\u201d\n\n[Illustration: VOLCANO BOGUSLOF, OF ALEUTIAN ISLANDS]\n\nOn the Aleutian islands, or peninsula of Alaska, are found the Aleuts,\nstill presided over by priests and bishops of the Greek church. It is\nprobable that no thoroughbred Aleuts now remain in the territory. The\npresent inhabitants of the Aleutian isles all contain Russian blood in\ntheir veins. The mixture has improved them much, in appearance at least.\nFormerly they were of diminutive stature, not unlike the Eskimo in their\nappearance and in the treachery of their disposition. Now they are much\nlarger in size, and it would be difficult to distinguish many of them\nfrom Europeans, so fair is their complexion and regular their features.\nThe children, who attend the government schools, learn everything easily,\nexcept mathematics. They very rarely pass fractions in the arithmetic.\nMany of them sing hymns and patriotic songs well, and use the English\nlanguage very fluently when at play. Apparently all are devout Christians\naccording to the Greek faith, but the sailor who goes ashore at night\nwill be accosted many times by the Aleuts, both men and women, who want\n\u201chuchi-noo,\u201d or whisky as we would call it. Cattle, sheep and goats are\nraised to a considerable extent around Unalaska. Several fine appearing\nJersey and Guernsey cows were seen there with their udders well filled\nwith milk. The Aleuts ride from place to place in bidarkees, or skin\ncanoes. About Dutch harbor are centers interesting for the tribe, and\nchurches and schools are maintained. The services are largely attended\nby the Aleut portion of Unalaska\u2019s population. There are a bishop and\nseveral priests present, who chant the service in Slavonian, which is\nresponded to by a small choir consisting for the most part of young\nboys. Vast sums are lavished on the ornamentation of Greek churches.\nMany are the designs in gold and silver on the furniture used in the\nservice. Like in the ancient Roman churches the services are conducted\nby the light of many brilliant candles of various size. Some of the\npaintings that ornamented the Alaskan Greek churches, especially those\nof Sitka and Kodiak, are among the finest artistic productions of the\nSlavonian school. While the dignitaries are chanting the service the\ngreater portion of the congregation keep constantly in motion, kneeling\nand bowing their heads, and kissing the floor and crossing themselves in\nGrecian fashion.\n\nThe Grecian cross differs materially from the Roman cross. The Roman\ncross is but one erect cross. The upright portion of the Greek cross is\ncrossed three times, once by a horizontal bar and twice by inclined cross\nbars, one being above and the other below the horizontal bar. These\ncrosses are to be found on all their churches and in all their cemeteries.\n\nDutch harbor is the headquarters of the North American Commercial company\nfor the northern district, and contains such buildings as are usual in a\nstation of its importance. It is the outfitting point for most whalers\nand sealers for Bering sea, and is the place where American war vessels\nreceive their supply of coal, which is imported from Nanaimo, B. C. The\nharbor is one of those small bays, well protected by the steep, high\nhills which surround it, that are so common in Alaska.\n\n[Illustration: KODIAK, ALASKA]\n\nUnalaska proper is about a mile and a half away\u2014situated on a long, low\nflat under the shadow of several lofty hills. Its harbor is as safe as\nDutch harbor, but not so handy. The Alaska Commercial company has a large\nestablishment there. The town consists chiefly of the company\u2019s large\nbuildings and about a hundred or more small tenement houses that the\ncompany has erected for the use of its native hunters. All the houses\nare built of imported rustic, and in most cases are painted with brown\nocher. The old Greek church has been demolished to give place to a grand\nnew cathedral, which is now under construction. At the present time the\ndevotees meet to burn their incense and otherwise worship in one of the\nsmaller ecclesiastical buildings.\n\nThe Alaska Commercial company has secured passage of a special law\nallowing the natives of Unalaska to hunt sea otters at sea on schooners\nfitted out in Unalaska, a privilege that none other than they enjoy.\n\nThe readers of accounts of adventures on northern seas and frigid lands,\nsuch as often appear in magazines and story books, are apt to confound\nthe fur seal, hunted for that rich under fur which he possesses, with the\nhair seal hunted by the natives of northern regions for the most part\nfor his fat. However, the skins of the latter are of considerable value\nto a savage man. In the Aleutian islands their bidarkees (skin canoes),\nhouses, clothing, etc., are largely made from the skin of the hair seal.\nIt has not been uncommon in recent years to see in the great illustrated\nmonthlies and weeklies pictures and descriptions of Greenland Eskimos and\nSiberian Tungusees stealing upon the inoffensive seal as he lies sleeping\non a block of ice, with their short spears and other weapons used in\nhis capture. Though so much has been written about hair seals, but very\nlittle has appeared in popular publications concerning the more valuable\nfur seal. This is largely due to the difficulty of obtaining correct\ninformation concerning them. In former times they inhabited the northern\nand southern parts of the Atlantic and Pacific oceans. But they have\nbeen so closely hunted that at the present time the only rookeries left\nthat are worthy of mention are those on the Pribylof islands, of which\nSt. Paul and St. George are the chief, the Copper island rookeries along\nthe coast of Siberia and those in the waters of Japan. There are also\nrookeries in the southern seas, along the coast of Patagonia, but the\nseals are not very plentiful, and owing to the inclemency of the weather\ncan only be obtained by raiding the rookeries.\n\nIn order that the process of hunting the fur seal may be better\nunderstood it may be proper to give a little space to a description of\nthem and their habits. They are usually brown or gray in color. The\nmales reach maturity when about ten years old. They often measure eight\nfeet from the nose to the end of the flipper, and their weight often\napproaches 400 pounds. Some of them live to a great age and have fine\nlong manes on their necks. The females arrive at maturity when about\nthree years old, and vary in weight from 40 to 100 pounds. The male\nseals are all congregated on the rookery in the latter part of June. The\nfemales arrive there several weeks later. As fast as the females arrive\nthe strong old patriarchs take them in charge, each caring for as many\nas he can guard, usually about fifteen in number. Very soon after the\nfemale reaches the island the young one, usually known as the \u201cpup,\u201d is\nborn. At birth it weighs only a couple of pounds, and grows to weigh\n25 or 30 pounds during the first year. It is said the noise of fierce\nfighting among the many thousands male seals that gather on these wild,\nbarren, rocky shores at breeding time is beyond the power of human speech\nto describe. Many thousands of them are killed every year, so fierce are\ntheir raging battles. Strange as it may seem, in most cases the young\npups do not take readily to the water at first. More often than not the\nolder ones have to teach them how to swim.\n\nAs soon as the pups can travel the herds leave the rookery and proceed\nsouthward. They go through passes that separate the Aleutian islands\none from the other in the latter part of September. The 1st of November\nfinds them drifting around in their winter quarters off the coast of\nMexico. As soon as good weather returns they proceed northward slowly,\ncongregating along the various fishing banks, where they are most\nsuccessfully hunted.\n\nThe country on the main land, both on the Shumagin islands and the\nAlaska peninsula as well as on the Aleutian chain, is composed of ragged\nbluffs and deep canyons, betraying evidence of much volcanic activity in\nrecent times. Where the rocks do not come to the surface these hills are\ngenerally covered by a thin growth of small alders which rarely grow to\nbe more than six or seven feet in height. Between the clusters of alder\nthere are often found growing salmon-berry bushes which seldom exceed a\nfoot in height. Grass sprinkled with fragrant violets, grows luxuriantly\nin some places. In others wild strawberries and small blackberry vines\nare abundant.\n\nIn those latitudes strawberries and salmon-berries are ripe in the middle\nof August; red and black huckleberries and blackberries in the latter\npart of September. It is one of the few places where a cranberry marsh\ncan be found on a steeply sloping hillside.\n\nSand Point station contains a store with warehouses, and customs house\nand such other buildings as are usually found in a frontier trading post.\nThere is also a large hotel which was built during the administration of\nMr. O\u2019Bryon as factor for Lynde & Hough. O\u2019Bryon has since been lost in\nthe schooner Mary Brown which was wrecked off Queen Charlotte island on\nher passage down last fall. The hotel is probably the finest building in\nAlaska. It is furnished with many of the modern improvements, and helps\nto give the place the appearance of one of those boom towns that used to\nbe seen on Puget Sound a few years ago. No one to-day knows why the hotel\nwas built, not even the company. It is thought that O\u2019Bryon intended\nestablishing a pleasure resort for tourists who would go there to fish\nand hunt during their summer vacations. In front of the station lies the\nhull of the old three-masted schooner John Hancock, which was wrecked\nthere several years ago.\n\nThe Hancock has quite an interesting history. The gunboat John Hancock\nwas built at Charleston, S. C., in 1846. She was then a side-wheel\nsteamer. After the Mexican war she was transferred to the Pacific coast.\nShe was Commodore Perry\u2019s flagship when he negotiated his famous treaty\nwith the emperor of Japan. In later times the Hancock was purchased by\nLynde & Hough, of San Francisco, and transformed into a three-masted\nschooner for the Alaskan trade. Her model was suited for swift sailing,\nhaving been very long and slender. She made the quickest passage ever\nmade by a sailing vessel on that route. After she drifted ashore the\nwreck was filled with rock and a wharf was built out over it.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXVIII\n\nTHE INDIAN AND THE SOUTH WIND\n\n\nIntimately associated with the legend and folk lore of the Indians of\nPuget Sound is the south wind, the balmy Chinook, the harbinger, the\nfirst breath of early spring time. It is the precursor of all that is\nglorious in pleasant days, sunshine and joy. It comes up over the land,\nperfumed and odorous from the sea islands. Its touch is like that of a\nmaiden\u2019s palm, gentle and soft. Its tread is silent like the flight of\na peri, but it is strong in its coming, for snow peaks and icy crags\nmelt before it like banks of fog. It may come in May or it may come in\nDecember, and its influence is felt for good. The Indians watch for its\ncoming as they did for the salmon, the king of fishes, long before the\nwhite man came upon the coast to share in its benign influence.\n\nThere was a beautiful superstition or tradition among the Indians that\nthe Chinook always came in the night time and the white man with all his\nlearning has never yet proved that it does not. The stolid Indian waked\nin the morning, went to the door of his wigwam and found it fanning his\ncheeks. The white man came, and he too when he waked himself at morning\nwould find the Chinook a-blowing. So it is to-day. Though the white man\nhas had a half century to discover the secrets of this pleasant wind,\nthey have never yet been told. They only know from whence to look for\nit\u2014from over the sea\u2014as did the Indians before them.\n\nAs all meteorologists on the coast know and old residents as well, the\nprevailing winds of the year are southerly, but all southerly winds are\nnot Chinook blows. They are as distinctly different as the vesper and\nthe Dakota blizzard. The Chinook is always a strong, steady southerly\nwind, never from any other point of the compass, unless it be slightly\nsouthwesterly. It is distinctly peculiar to the Northwest Pacific coast\nand its source is far out in the nasty storm center of the Pacific\nocean, emanating from the famed Japan current which is the source of the\nremarkable humidity of the North Pacific coast.\n\nThe Chinook is remarkable for the warming-up it brings, and what is still\nmore singular the glow from its presence is not dependent upon its force.\nThis peculiar wind is, indeed, not a blow in the sense that the word is\nusually taken, but a smooth, steady flow of a great wind current that is\nthe delight of all who come under its enchanting spell. And what warmth\nit brings. By official record on the Sound it has been known to elevate\nthe mercury in the thermometer 19 degrees in an hour\u2019s time, and yet\nthe Chinook was not blowing above a 12-mile-an-hour rate. That is good\nevidence that the amount of heat it brings is independent of the force of\nthe wind.\n\nThe spring months of the year is the season proper of the Chinook, but\nmeteorologists say there are exceptions and the old and observant pioneer\nwill doubtless bear out this statement. It has been observed to blow\nin December at Olympia, where is located the oldest weather station in\nWashington. There 20 years\u2019 records of the weather in Western Washington,\nfrom a total of 5,700 distinct and separate observations made with a\nstatement of every plus and minus change of 10 degrees or more in both\nthe maximum and minimum of the temperature, shows that the months of\nthe year when the most decided changes occur in Western Washington are\nMarch, April, May and October. During the other months the temperature\nvaries but little from day to day. Of decided temperature in this\nwestern country 24 degrees is the record of greatest variation in any\n24 hours, either of maximum or minimum, that was ever noticed. A change\nin the maximum of 40 degrees in 24 hours in Texas in winter is said to\nbe a common thing. The cause is said to be that immediately preceding a\nnorther comes a warm, moist wave, which runs the thermometer up to 65\nor 70 degrees on a winter day, and by next morning the thermometer has\nfallen to 30 or more degrees. By reason of our contiguity to the Japan\ncurrent such extreme and sudden changes are impossible.\n\n[Illustration: \u201cKLA-HOW-YA\u201d\u2014HOW ARE YOU]\n\nIt is only for two months in the year\u2014July and August\u2014that the prevailing\nwinds are not southerly; then they may be said to be northerly. June\nimmediately preceding the first of these two months, and September\nimmediately following them, each have about 50 per cent of northerly and\nsoutherly winds.\n\nThis mere statement of wind courses is really an explanation of the\ncause of such a long rainy season on the Northwest coast. By scientific\ninvestigation it has been demonstrated that all cyclonic depressions\noriginating in or over the Pacific ocean during those ten months of the\nyear when southerly winds prevail pass at a sufficiently low latitude\nto cause the winds in Western Washington to blow from the south or\nsouthwest. These winds always bring up from the ocean that excess of\nhumidity or moistness which is so characteristic of the country.\n\n[Illustration: SPEARING THE HAIR SEAL]\n\nThis prevailing moist-laden atmosphere or wind current from the ocean\nand the presence of the towering Cascade barrier paralleling the coast\nso closely is the true secret of the peculiar climate. Move the Cascade\nrange of mountains and meteorologists tell us that we would at once\nexperience a great difference in climatic conditions. The excess of\nmoisture now so common on a comparatively narrow strip of coast line\nwould find its way inland and distribute itself over a vast area of\ncountry. Desert and sagebrush plains would be turned into blooming\ngardens, and corn and wine would grow and flow where now only the\nsagehen and jack rabbit find congenial homes. The prevailing south and\nsouthwesterly winds would not, say the meteorologists, be interrupted in\ntheir regular course because their source would not be interrupted. And\nthere is so much of that dirty weather always present in the ocean caused\nby the presence of the Japan current which strikes our coast that the\natmosphere would still have its excess of humidity. In the Japan current\nlies the source of bad weather off shore and on the coast line. To such a\nnicety have meteorologists reduced this potent factor in our weather that\nthey can always with a degree of certainty scarcely attainable in other\nsections, predict the character of the weather coming on.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXIX\n\nPLEASURE AND PROFIT IN THE MARSH\n\n\nChecked by the impenetrable forests that covered all the interior of the\ncountry bordering on Puget Sound, the native Indians found pleasure and\nprofit in investigating the marsh lands, tules and tide lands and beaver\ndams, and chasing the festive musk rat and the industrious beaver; or\ntaking the numerous water fowl by simple methods now forgotten or long in\ndisuse.\n\nNature for ages had been in process of forming vast tide marshes at\nthe deltas and mouths of the numerous streams, the Duwamish, the\nStillaguamish, the Skagit and Nooksack, Puyallup, Skokomish and others.\nAround the mouths of these rivers many of the largest Indian settlements\nwere to be found. How long these rivers have been silently at work day\nand night tearing down the mountains and carrying the fragments away to\nthe sea is a question no man can answer. For ages this work has been\ngoing on, with results perceptible in the acres of marsh where the rivers\nmeet the tide. If diked and tilled this tide land is the richest and most\nproductive of the whole state for certain kinds of crops.\n\nAll hunters know that snipe, ducks and migratory water fowl galore are\ntemporary tenants of these marshy depths every fall and that good sport\ncomes in with the tide at the right season of the year.\n\nAt flood tide the \u201cflats\u201d are full of life, for then the little channels\nthat penetrate the tules like a labyrinth are peopled with thousands of\ngull, ducks, snipe, heron and other water birds, feeding on the crawfish,\ncrabs and other crustacea that dwell in the slimy mud and only come forth\nwhen the waters cover the myriads of holes that constitute their homes.\nMuskrats paddle about towing bits of dead wood or tule in a streaming\nwake as they take advantage of the tide for water transportation to bring\ntheir winter bed to their burrow. Quaint little fellows they are, with\nbeady black eyes that see everything, and a shining coat of brown fur\nwhich they oil and comb every time they can find a warm sunny nook where\nthe wind doesn\u2019t blow too brisk. They are not very shy if left alone\nand can often be seen swimming about or perched on some snag smoothing\ntheir coat with a little black paw or huddled up until they look like a\nbrown ball of fur as big as your two fists. They have a tireless enemy in\nthe person of the farmer who owns diked land, for they are the bane of\nhis existence. Dikes seem to be a favorite place for them to dig their\nburrows in, presumably because it affords them an elevation above water\nlevel, consequently a dry home in the otherwise slimy expanse of marsh\nthat forms their habitat.\n\nMuskrats are not the only inhabitants of these lonesome, wind-swept\ndeposits. Gulls wing their circling flight along the borders in quest of\nfood left by the last tide, and croaking herons rise on heavy, uncertain\nwing, as they adjust their lank proportions to the conditions of aerial\nnavigation. The crows are there always; high tide, low tide or no tide,\nthe crows are about. At low water they pick up the clams and cockles\nleft on top of the sand, take out the meat of such as they are able, and\nhave a way of their own of opening those that persist in keeping their\nshells tightly closed. On finding one of this kind they take hold of it\nwith their beak, give a preliminary croak or so, and rise in the air for\nseveral yards, then they drop the clam and follow it like a black plumb\nbob to the beach. The clam shell is cracked and mashed by the fall and\nthe crow has everything his own way by his sharp practices. They clean up\nabout everything considered eatable in the crow bill of fare that is left\non the beach by the tide and what they miss the gulls get, so that the\nmud flats constitute a kind of a short order restaurant for the bird-folk\nthat inhabit our bay shores.\n\n[Illustration: INDIAN DUCK HUNTING]\n\nThe stoical Siwash stalks, barefooted, over the broad expanse of sand,\ngathering clams at low tide, or with silent paddle urges his cedar canoe\namong the canals of the tule patches, looking for a \u201cpot shot\u201d at ducks\nwith his old Hudsons bay company musket. He never wastes any powder on a\nsingle duck or risks a wing shot. There must be a whole patch of ducks\nand they must be close and sitting still on the water before he turns\nhis old gas-pipe fusee loose in their direction. He don\u2019t go for sport,\nor sportsmanship, this aborigine, so he nearly always gets ducks and\ngenerally several of them every time he chucks a double handful of slugs\namong them.\n\nHe is silent as a shadow and piles branches and grass all over his canoe\nto enable him to do just the right kind of a \u201csneak\u201d on his unsuspecting\nvictims.\n\nMrs. Siwash paddles along the canals too, but she is on a peaceful\nmission and only takes the tules and rushes that grow thick on the\ntide-flat marshes for no other purpose, in her estimation, than for\nmaking mats for her dwelling on the other side of the bay. She knows all\nthe devious windings of every little channel, though some of them are\nonly about wide enough to float her light craft and are hung so close\nwith grass and rushes that you would hardly suspect an open waterway.\nShe knows that this or that blind canal opens out and gives access to a\nparticularly fine patch of rushes a little further on and urges her boat\nahead with lazy stroke that makes it glide along even if there is no\nwater to be seen from your point of view.\n\n[Illustration: KLOOTCHMAN GATHERING RUSHES]\n\nThese little waterways lead everywhere, and in walking about you find\nyourself unexpectedly confronted by a ditch a little too wide to jump\nover and a trifle to deep to wade, when you stop to consider that the\nbottom mud may be any depth you take a notion to imagine it, but at best\ndeep enough to let the water in over the tops of your waders.\n\nIn the deeper ones crabs scurry away in a misfit, sideways fashion,\npeculiarly their own, and flounders fan their shingle shaped bulk down\nin the friendly slime and there lie buried as the roil drifts away,\nconforming so closely with the color of the bottom as to be invisible to\nany one but a Siwash. They can\u2019t fool a Siwash a little bit for he just\npicks up a spear from his canoe, makes a jab at the muddy spot and eats\nflounder when he gets hungry.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XL\n\nINDIANS IN THE HOP FIELDS\n\n\n There\u2019s dusky maids\n In pinks and plaids,\n Maids from the forest free;\n In bright attire,\n Aglow, afire,\n On Ballast island by the sea.\n\n There\u2019s the chief of his clan\n With his ughly klootchman;\n The gay young dude and his bride,\n With bows and quiver,\n And dog fish liver,\n And the ictas of his curious tribe.\n\n Camped below,\n In the beauteous glow,\n Such a \u201cgypsy\u201d crew so novel and bold;\n In their long canoes,\n And moccasin shoes,\n From the land of the Totem pole.\n\n Dotted all over,\n Like pigs in clover,\n The wickyups cover Ballast isle;\n Brown flitched salmon,\n Pappooses agammon,\n Pots and kettles in curious pile.\n\n When picking\u2019s o\u2019er\n We\u2019ll have no more\n The smell that comes from Ballast isle;\n Glad then my eyes\n My spirits rise,\n For they\u2019ve gone back to their paradise.\n\n[Ballast isle is the camping spot near Seattle of the Indians during\ntheir stop over to and from the hop fields.]\n\nHop picking on bright days in the valleys of Western Washington is the\ndelight of the native. It is for him and all his kith and kin, a joy\nunspeakable. He comes from near and far. He will travel hundreds of miles\nin his big canim with his full household and all his earthly possessions\nto enjoy the delightful season as much for his real love for it as for\nthe money that he knows will always come at the close. Then the hop field\nis redolent of perfume and melody. The fields are alive with pickers;\nthe air is joyous with sound. There is a richness and coloring in the\nsurrounding which form a perpetual delight. There is a novelty to the\nbeholder and a rurality of scene so peculiar, that makes one feel as if\nthey were in some enchanted country. If you have never witnessed a season\nof hop picking you have missed a rare old time-treat which has its equal\nonly in the maple woods of the East during sugar making time, or in the\nco\u2019n shuckin\u2019 days of old Kentuck, \u201cwhen the mast am fallin\u2019 and the\ndarkies am a singin\u2019 and raccoon and possum am simmerin\u2019 in the pot.\u201d\n\nIn addition to its scenic beauties and pleasant surroundings a hop field\nis a sanitarium for the invalid, and a resting place for the weary and\noverworked.\n\nRanking next to the delightful exhilarating smell of the fresh pine woods\nof Puget Sound is the rich agreeable odor of the hop fields. The hazy\nhalf humid air of the lazy September days, the variegated coloring of\nthousands of native pickers chattering in their gutteral Chinook; the\nheavy foliaged banks of deep, intensely green fields of vines, with the\nequally deep green of the conifera woods in the background; the white\ncanvas tents, the lines of curling smoke ascending heavenward; the half\nagreeable smell of frying salmon, the universal meal of the brownskinned\nIndians; the mingling and assimilation of a thousand rural and novel et\nceteras, form pictures and attractions seen no where else on earth save\nin a Washington hop field. They are delights which enjoyed once, never\nare obliterated from the pleasant memories of the beholder.\n\n[Illustration: AN EDUCATED INDIAN]\n\nThere is not a rural panacea or health resort from Southern California\nto Vancouver island that will afford a tithe of the good solid enjoyment\nwith the revivifying influence so beneficial to constitutions or\nshattered nerves.\n\nSix o\u2019clock in the morning finds the fields redolent of odor, musical\nwith sound and swarming with pickers. Poles laden with wet vines are\nfalling here, there and everywhere. There are buckets, baskets, boxes,\nbabies and blankets in endless admixture, while white, black and Indian\nare taking stations. Dropping polls, like snowflakes falling, are\nheaping in miniature mountains in every row. So it goes. Day in, day out,\nfrom morn to night, throughout the season, until the last pole has been\nplucked and the last load rolled into the mammoth kiln.\n\nIndians make the best pickers, and among the Indians the klootchman ranks\nsupreme. She picks hops while the lazy, indolent brave plays cards or\nlounges in the shadow of his rakish tepee. His great delights are in\ncard playing and pony racing. Those of the interior will travel for days\nacross the mountains every autumn, not to pick hops but to horse race\non Sunday. Sunday is their big day, a day of carousing, gambling and\nracing. On those days all the villages in the valley are overrun with the\npickers in holiday garb of fancy colors. Then assemble a cosmopolitan\ncrowd not greatly unlike such as gather at fair time in the far famed\nNijni Novgorod from the steppes of Tartary or Siberia. The Yakimas\nand Klickitats and other interior tribes, male and female alike, are\nscampering about on long haired ponies, while the more sedate Puyallups,\nNisquallys, Tulalips, and dozens of other coast tribes trudge hither and\nthither, grunting and muttering and poking their fingers and noses into\nanything and everything which can be eaten or worn. Night drives them to\ntheir various camps, some scattered miles away in various parts of the\nvalleys, and the following Sunday the scene is repeated.\n\n[Illustration: STONE HATCHETS OF PUGET SOUND TRIBES]\n\nNear Puyallup in a long reach of level ground the Indians have raced for\nyears at hop picking time, and so great is the rivalry and excitement of\nthe sport that the whole interim from one autumn till the next is given\nup in preparation and training of horse flesh with which to outrun rival\nsteeds on the race course. Sometimes but two, at other times six or eight\nhorses will enter in a single race. The race is always a running race and\nthe Indians mount without any reference to weight, handicap, jockey or\nsaddle. A big Indian will be seen mounted on a diminutive wooly pony, and\nwill sail over the course like a meteor, his long black locks streaming\nin the wind. Bets of ponies, lodges, blankets, saddles, knives, money and\neverything and anything tangible and movable will be staked on the result\nof a race and paid with as much nonchalance as a thousand pounds Sterling\nwould be paid on Epsom Downs. Often there are seen at these Sunday races\n3,000 people. Such days and places are the paradise of the gambler,\ncontraband whiskey vendor and trashy whites generally. They congregate\nlike vultures at a carrion feed. Only a goodly number of United States\ndeputy marshals prevents downright and open handed robbery and vice.\n\nThe close of the picking season always finds the principal towns flooded\nwith returning pickers and the dock fronts lined with long, lank Indian\ncanoes. The Indians are spendthrifts, and they plant the profits of the\npicking season as generously as princes of the realm. Their canoes are\nladen with bric a brac from the Boston man\u2019s store as long as the money\nlasts or as long as there is room to store them.\n\n[Illustration: QUINIAULT SEA OTTER LOOKOUT]\n\nThey always bring with them from their mysterious northern lands the\nfruits of the chase on land or sea, and the workmanship of rude hands,\nfor barter with the whites. Mats of reeds, images, miniature canoes,\nbladders of fish oil, slabs of seal meat, dried elk and bear, seal skins,\nbeaver skins, pelts, sea otter skins, and such like, form their chief\nstaples in trade. These are generally bartered on the trip down, for\neatables, while waiting for the maturing of the hop fields, as they are\nmost always here weeks before the time for picking.\n\nThe coast Indians come generally in fleets of a dozen to twenty or thirty\nbig canoes, numbering fifty or one hundred pickers, who are generally\npresided over by some scion of a royal line or by some head man elected\nto chieftainship, much as the whites elect their officials. If there is\nany tribal restrictions or dictatorial authority by the chief at home,\nit is dropped when they start on their long water journeys, sometimes of\nmany hundred miles, to the hop fields.\n\nThe going and coming of the Washington hop pickers is as regular as the\nannual migration of water fowl or the rotation of the seasons, and are\never a source of attraction and interest.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XLI\n\nLEGEND OF THE CRUCIFIXION\n\n\nThe Siwash have a legendary theory and story of the crucifixion. Hezekial\nButterworth picked it up while on one of his vacation jaunts to the west,\nand tells it very prettily, though it has been told by a score of writers\nand is one of the first to come to the knowledge of the white man:\n\nLong, long ago, say the Siwashes, in the splendid sunsets of the Whulge,\nor Puget Sea, there came a canoe of copper sailing, sailing. The painted\nforest lords and feathered maidens saw it from the bluffs\u2014in the sunrise\nat times, or in the moonsets, but ever in the red sunsets, sailing,\nsailing. The gleam of copper in the red sunset is more beautiful than\ngold; and ever and anon on the blue wave was seen the burnished gleam\nof the copper canoe. On it came, and the solitary voyager in the copper\ncanoe landed at last on the Whulge, under the crystal dome of Mount\nRainier, and he shadowed among the cool firs of the headlands there the\nboat that flashed out the rays of sunset light.\n\nHe called together the tribes. They came in canoes from everywhere.\nHe began to teach and preach. \u201cI come among you as a preacher of\nrighteousness,\u201d he said, or thoughts like these. \u201cAll that men can\npossess in this world, or any other, is righteousness. If a man have\nthat, he is rich, though he be poor, and his soul shall rise, rise, rise,\nand live forever.\n\n\u201cOh Siwashes,\u201d he preached, \u201cthe unseen power that thinks and causes you\nto act is the soul. It does not die when the breath vanishes. It goes\naway with the unseen life and inhabits the life unseen. You have never\nseen the soul, or life, but death is only the beginning of a longer life,\nand the soul with righteous longings shall be happy forever.\n\n\u201cBut war is wrong\u2014the spear, the arrow, and the spilling of human blood.\nMan may not kill his brother. The soul was meant for peace.\u201d\n\nHe preached these or like doctrines, a beautiful gospel, like the Sermon\non the Mount.\n\nThe warlike tribes rejected the word. They nailed the Saviour who came\ngleaming over the violet sea in the copper canoe, to a tree, and he\ndied there. They took down his body, but, wonder of wonders! it rose\nfrom the dead, and appeared to all the tribes, and the risen Saviour\npreached the same doctrine of righteousness and immortality as before.\nThe legend may have been derived from the preaching of some forest priest\nin some distant place, for the Catholic missionaries were on the coast of\nCalifornia before 1700.\n\nPicturesque and profoundly romantic and imaginative is the Siwash legend\nof the two grand old mountains, Rainier and Hood, one in Washington, one\nin Oregon, with the mighty Columbia rolling between. It is the legend\nof a stupendous battle royal, between mighty monarchs, and is as well\nthe sequel to the cascades and rocks that break the broad current of the\nnoble stream. The foundation for the legend is probably due to the fact\nthat within the limits of the Indian tradition or history of the past,\nMt. Rainier was in active eruption.\n\nLong ago, almost beyond the time when Indian tradition and legend extend\nthe spirits of the mountains fought a long and bloody battle. Rocks\nwere hurled from the summits at the heads of the rival sentinels of the\ncascades and a great commotion was caused throughout all the land. The\nSiwash of the Sound say their tradition teaches them that it was the evil\nand unruly spirits on Mt. Hood that brought about the great battle. They\nwould not keep still but were bent on raising mischief, and they did it.\nWhen the great spirits of Rainier could not stand it any longer and could\nnot sleep, they rose in rebellion with a mighty noise that shook the\nmountains and the sea and began a war on the noisy demons of Mt. Hood.\nGreat rocks were picked up and hurled back and forth, some so heavy that\nthey could not be thrown the great distance and they fell short landing\nin the mighty Columbia with a great splash and making the earth tremble\nfrom their violence. This quieted the spirits of Mt. Hood, since which\nthey have had peace; but the waters were dammed up and the cascades were\nformed.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XLII\n\nROMANCE IN REAL LIFE\n\n\nA long time ago an English whaling bark, after many months of hardship on\nthe voyage, was caught in a heavy gale off Vancouver island coast. After\na gallant effort to save the ship and ride out the storm, the captain and\ncrew took to the life-boat, and though a long way from land and with the\ntempest howling about them, struck bravely out for safety. Nothing was\never heard or seen of the sinking ship. But one of the brave crew reached\nland to live to tell the awful tale of shipwreck and death which engulfed\nhis companions. It was while trying to make land through the surf of\nQueen Charlotte sound, that the captain and crew went down. The empty and\nbattered boat was cast upon the shore and with it one half-drowned sailor\nwho, after a time was able to rise from the sand and stagger about.\n\nIt was during the stormy winter of 1843, a time long antedating the\nfirst general appearance of the settlers. In all the northwest there was\nscarcely a clearing or hamlet. An occasional white-winged sail dotted\nthe water horizon or came to anchor in some quiet bay or harbor of the\nStraits of Fuca, or the still less frequented waters of Queen Charlotte\nsound. Ever and anon a Hudsons Bay company\u2019s trapper or voyager emerged\nfrom the bush upon the shore to remain a few days and then would be\ngone again prosecuting his search after skins. That was all there was\nto the civilization of the inhospitable northwest. The land all about\nbelonged to the simple children of nature the Indian, the beaver and\nthe bear. Such was the situation when the hero of our story was thrown\nalmost drowned upon the beach of Queen Charlotte sound. Scarcely had the\nhalf-drowned mariner reached dry land than he was set upon by a party of\nIndians and taken prisoner. He was escorted to the village of the head\nchief and the usual council of war held by the braves to determine his\nfate. The prisoner knew no word of the Chinook jargon or the King George\nIndian tongue and could not gain the slightest inkling of the drift of\nthe pow-wow. For a time he felt that he was reserved for a fate ten times\nworse than death at sea, and he cursed fate that he was not permitted to\ngo down with his companions and leave his bones to whiten and bleach in\nthe cavernous depths of old ocean. But he was not to be burned at the\nstake, nor killed and eaten. The Indians at the close of their council\nmade no demonstration or dangerous move, and he soon learned that he was\nto remain a prisoner and slave. His English boat was pulled upon the\nbeach and left to rot away. Time passed on and days run into months and\nmonths swelled into years. The sailor soon fell into the style of living\nof the natives and was adopted into the tribe, learned their strange\ntongue and customs, sat in their councils, went with them on their long\ncanoe voyages to the south and towards the north, followed them in their\nhunts for the bear, beaver and elk; engaged in their wars with their\nenemies, dressed in their simple style, and was in every way save by\nblood an Indian.\n\nFor five long years the prisoner lived with his captors on the shores of\nQueen Charlotte sound, but there came a time when savage life palled and\nthe longing to see the face of a white man and speak his natural language\ngrew too strong to be shaken off. All the time he had lived with the\nIndians he had not seen a white person. So in 1848 the sailor whose true\nname was William Jarman, sought an opportunity to escape from the village\nof his adopted people. He headed his canoe to the south and quickly and\nquietly paddled away toward the waters of Puget Sound, hoping to fall\nin with some trapper on the beach, or mayhap catch a sail in the waters\ntowards which he was going. Without mishap he got as far south as Point\nWilson, now Point Wilson light house, near Port Townsend, but had the\nmisfortune here to be overtaken by the very people with whom he had lived\nso long. Broken and bewildered by his recapture, poor Jarman was escorted\nback to the village in triumphant glee by his swarthy friends, now turned\nto foes. The policy of the Indians again proved to be to keep him among\nthem as an unwilling prisoner and for four years more Jarman remained a\ncaptive and prisoner. Afraid that he would again attempt to escape the\nIndians took him to Queen Charlotte island, and he was not permitted to\nreturn to the main land. Notwithstanding the close surveillance kept\nupon him the sailor at the end of four years, a second time managed to\nget away and this time made good his escape. By the time he reached the\nSound on his second escape many settlers had arrived and Jarman found\ncompany and protection. Such was his wild and uncouth appearance that\nhis later friends gave him the sobriquet of \u201cBlanket Bill.\u201d He took up\nhis residence on the Sound, lived at Seattle, Port Townsend and Whatcom,\nor about the settlements which as time passed on grew to those towns.\nBlanket Bill after his nine years of wonderful life among the savages\nnever could quite get over the habits and peculiarities he had learned,\nand consequently he became a notorious character among the white settlers\non the Sound. He was living up to a very short time ago somewhere in the\nbounds of Whatcom county.","title":"The Siwash, Their Life, Legends, and Tales: Puget Sound and Pacfic Northwest","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":71501}