This is a tale that was told to me by two old men. We sat in the smoke
of a mosquito-smudge, in the cool of the day, which was midnight;
and ever and anon, throughout the telling, we smote lustily and with
purpose at such of the winged pests as braved the smoke for a snack at
our hides. To the right, beneath us, twenty feet down the crumbling
bank, the Yukon gurgled lazily. To the left, on the rose-leaf rim of
the low-lying hills, smouldered the sleepy sun, which saw no sleep
that night nor was destined to see sleep for many nights to come.
The old men who sat with me and valorously slew mosquitoes were
Lone Chief and Mutsak, erstwhile comrades in arms, and now withered
repositories of tradition and ancient happening. They were the last
of their generation and without honor among the younger set which had
grown up on the farthest fringe of a mining civilization. Who cared
for tradition in these days, when spirits could be evoked from black
bottles, and black bottles could be evoked from the complaisant white
men for a few hours' sweat or a mangy fur? Of what potency the fearful
rites and masked mysteries of shamanism, when daily that living
wonder, the steamboat, coughed and spluttered up and down the Yukon in
defiance of all law, a veritable fire-breathing monster? And of what
value was hereditary prestige, when he who now chopped the most wood,
or best conned a stern-wheeler through the island mazes, attained the
chiefest consideration of his fellows?
Of a truth, having lived too long, they had fallen on evil days, these
two old men, Lone Chief and Mutsak, and in the new order they were
without honor or place. So they waited drearily for death, and the
while their hearts warmed to the strange white man who shared with
them the torments of the mosquito-smudge and lent ready ear to their
tales of old time before the steamboat came.
"So a girl was chosen for me," Lone Chief was saying. His voice,
shrill and piping, ever and again dropped plummet-like into a hoarse
and rattling bass, and, just as one became accustomed to it, soaring
upward into the thin treble--alternate cricket chirpings and bullfrog
croakings, as it were.
"So a girl was chosen for me," he was saying. "For my father, who was
Kask-ta-ka, the Otter, was angered because I looked not with a needful
eye upon women. He was an old man, and chief of his tribe. I was the
last of his sons to be alive, and through me, only, could he look to
see his blood go down among those to come after and as yet unborn. But
know, O White Man, that I was very sick; and when neither the hunting
nor the fishing delighted me, and by meat my belly was not made warm,
how should I look with favor upon women? or prepare for the feast
of marriage? or look forward to the prattle and troubles of little
children?"
"Ay," Mutsak interrupted. "For had not Lone Chief fought in the arms
of a great bear till his head was cracked and blood ran from out his
ears?"
Lone Chief nodded vigorously. "Mutsak speaks true. In the time that
followed, my head was well, and it was not well. For though the flesh
healed and the sore went away, yet was I sick inside. When I walked,
my legs shook under me, and when I looked at the light, my eyes became
filled with tears. And when I opened my eyes, the world outside went
around and around, and when I closed my eyes, my head inside went
around and around, and all the things I had ever seen went around and
around inside my head. And above my eyes there was a great pain, as
though something heavy rested always upon me, or like a band that is
drawn tight and gives much hurt. And speech was slow to me, and I
waited long for each right word to come to my tongue. And when I
waited not long, all manner of words crowded in, and my tongue spoke
foolishness. I was very sick, and when my father, the Otter, brought
the girl Kasaan before me--"
"Who was a young girl, and strong, my sister's child," Mutsak broke
in. "Strong-hipped for children was Kasaan, and straight-legged and
quick of foot. She made better moccasins than any of all the young
girls, and the bark-rope she braided was the stoutest. And she had a
smile in her eyes, and a laugh on her lips; and her temper was not
hasty, nor was she unmindful that men give the law and women ever
obey."
"As I say, I was very sick," Lone Chief went on. "And when my father,
the Otter, brought the girl Kasaan before me, I said rather should
they make me ready for burial than for marriage. Whereat the face of
my father went black with anger, and he said that I should be served
according to my wish, and that I who was yet alive should be made
ready for death as one already dead--"
"Which be not the way of our people, O White Man," spoke up Mutsak.
"For know that these things that were done to Lone Chief it was our
custom to do only to dead men. But the Otter was very angry."
"Ay," said Lone Chief. "My father, the Otter, was a man short of
speech and swift of deed. And he commanded the people to gather before
the lodge wherein I lay. And when they were gathered, he commanded
them to mourn for his son who was dead--"
"And before the lodge they sang the
death-song--_O-o-o-o-o-o-a-haa-ha-a-ich-klu-kuk-ich-klu-kuk_," wailed
Mutsak, in so excellent an imitation that all the tendrils of my spine
crawled and curved in sympathy.
"And inside the lodge," continued Lone Chief, "my mother blackened her
face with soot, and flung ashes upon her head, and mourned for me as
one already dead; for so had my father commanded. So Okiakuta, my
mother, mourned with much noise, and beat her breasts and tore her
hair; and likewise Hooniak, my sister, and Seenatah, my mother's
sister; and the noise they made caused a great ache in my head, and I
felt that I would surely and immediately die.
"And the elders of the tribe gathered about me where I lay and
discussed the journey my soul must take. One spoke of the thick and
endless forests where lost souls wandered crying, and where I, too,
might chance to wander and never see the end. And another spoke of
the big rivers, rapid with bad water, where evil spirits shrieked and
lifted up their formless arms to drag one down by the hair. For these
rivers, all said together, a canoe must be provided me. And yet
another spoke of the storms, such as no live man ever saw, when the
stars rained down out of the sky, and the earth gaped wide in many
cracks, and all the rivers in the heart of the earth rushed out and
in. Whereupon they that sat by me flung up their arms and wailed
loudly; and those outside heard, and wailed more loudly. And as to
them I was as dead, so was I to my own mind dead. I did not know when,
or how, yet did I know that I had surely died.
"And Okiakuta, my mother, laid beside me my squirrel-skin parka. Also
she laid beside me my parka of caribou hide, and my rain coat of seal
gut, and my wet-weather muclucs, that my soul should be warm and dry
on its long journey. Further, there was mention made of a steep hill,
thick with briers and devil's-club, and she fetched heavy moccasins to
make the way easy for my feet.
"And when the elders spoke of the great beasts I should have to slay,
the young men laid beside me my strongest bow and straightest arrows,
my throwing-stick, my spear and knife. And when the elders spoke of
the darkness and silence of the great spaces my soul must wander
through, my mother wailed yet more loudly and flung yet more ashes
upon her head.
"And the girl, Kasaan, crept in, very timid and quiet, and dropped a
little bag upon the things for my journey. And in the little bag, I
knew, were the flint and steel and the well-dried tinder for the fires
my soul must build. And the blankets were chosen which were to be
wrapped around me. Also were the slaves selected that were to be
killed that my soul might have company. There were seven of these
slaves, for my father was rich and powerful, and it was fit that I,
his son, should have proper burial. These slaves we had got in war
from the Mukumuks, who live down the Yukon. On the morrow, Skolka, the
shaman, would kill them, one by one, so that their souls should go
questing with mine through the Unknown. Among other things, they would
carry my canoe till we came to the big river, rapid with bad water.
And there being no room, and their work being done, they would come no
farther, but remain and howl forever in the dark and endless forest.
"And as I looked on my fine warm clothes, and my blankets and weapons
of war, and as I thought of the seven slaves to be slain, I felt proud
of my burial and knew that I must be the envy of many men. And all the
while my father, the Otter, sat silent and black. And all that day and
night the people sang my death-song and beat the drums, till it seemed
that I had surely died a thousand times.
"But in the morning my father arose and made talk. He had been a
fighting man all his days, he said, as the people knew. Also the
people knew that it were a greater honor to die fighting in battle
than on the soft skins by the fire. And since I was to die anyway, it
were well that I should go against the Mukumuks and be slain. Thus
would I attain honor and chieftainship in the final abode of the dead,
and thus would honor remain to my father, who was the Otter. Wherefore
he gave command that a war party be made ready to go down the river.
And that when we came upon the Mukumuks I was to go forth alone from
my party, giving semblance of battle, and so be slain."
"Nay, but hear, O White Man!" cried Mutsak, unable longer to contain
himself. "Skolka, the shaman, whispered long that night in the ear of
the Otter, and it was his doing that Lone Chief should be sent forth
to die. For the Otter being old, and Lone Chief the last of his sons,
Skolka had it in mind to become chief himself over the people. And
when the people had made great noise for a day and a night and Lone
Chief was yet alive, Skolka was become afraid that he would not die.
So it was the counsel of Skolka, with fine words of honor and deeds,
that spoke through the mouth of the Otter.
"Ay," replied Lone Chief. "Well did I know it was the doing of Skolka,
but I was unmindful, being very sick. I had no heart for anger, nor
belly for stout words, and I cared little, one way or the other, only
I cared to die and have done with it all. So, O White Man, the war
party was made ready. No tried fighters were there, nor elders, crafty
and wise--naught but five score of young men who had seen little
fighting. And all the village gathered together above the bank of the
river to see us depart. And we departed amid great rejoicing and the
singing of my praises. Even thou, O White Man, wouldst rejoice at
sight of a young man going forth to battle, even though doomed to die.
"So we went forth, the five score young men, and Mutsak came also, for
he was likewise young and untried. And by command of my father, the
Otter, my canoe was lashed on either side to the canoe of Mutsak and
the canoe of Kannakut. Thus was my strength saved me from the work of
the paddles, so that, for all of my sickness, I might make a brave
show at the end. And thus we went down the river.
"Nor will I weary thee with the tale of the journey, which was not
long. And not far above the village of the Mukumuks we came upon two
of their fighting men in canoes, that fled at the sight of us. And
then, according to the command of my father, my canoe was cast loose
and I was left to drift down all alone. Also, according to his
command, were the young men to see me die, so that they might return
and tell the manner of my death. Upon this, my father, the Otter,
and Skolka, the shaman, had been very clear, with stern promises of
punishment in case they were not obeyed.
"I dipped my paddle and shouted words of scorn after the fleeing
warriors. And the vile things I shouted made them turn their heads in
anger, when they beheld that the young men held back, and that I came
on alone. Whereupon, when they had made a safe distance, the two
warriors drew their canoes somewhat apart and waited side by side for
me to come between. And I came between, spear in hand, and singing the
war-song of my people. Each flung a spear, but I bent my body, and
the spears whistled over me, and I was unhurt. Then, and we were all
together, we three, I cast my spear at the one to the right, and it
drove into his throat and he pitched backward into the water.
"Great was my surprise thereat, for I had killed a man. I turned to
the one on the left and drove strong with my paddle, to meet Death
face to face; but the man's second spear, which was his last, but bit
into the flesh of my shoulder. Then was I upon him, making no cast,
but pressing the point into his breast and working it through him with
both my hands. And while I worked, pressing with all my strength, he
smote me upon my head, once and twice, with the broad of his paddle.
"Even as the point of the spear sprang out beyond his back, he smote
me upon the head. There was a flash, as of bright light, and inside my
head I felt something give, with a snap--just like that, with a snap.
And the weight that pressed above my eyes so long was lifted, and the
band that bound my brows so tight was broken. And a great gladness
came upon me, and my heart sang with joy.
"This be death, I thought; wherefore I thought that death was very
good. And then I saw the two empty canoes, and I knew that I was not
dead, but well again. The blows of the man upon my head had made me
well. I knew that I had killed, and the taste of the blood made me
fierce, and I drove my paddle into the breast of the Yukon and urged
my canoe toward the village of the Mukumuks. The young men behind me
gave a great cry. I looked over my shoulder and saw the water foaming
white from their paddles--"
"Ay, it foamed white from our paddles," said Mutsak. "For we
remembered the command of the Otter, and of Skolka, that we behold
with our own eyes the manner of Lone Chief's death. A young man of
the Mukumuks, on his way to a salmon trap, beheld the coming of Lone
Chief, and of the five score men behind him. And the young man fled
in his canoe, straight for the village, that alarm might be given and
preparation made. But Lone Chief hurried after him, and we hurried
after Lone Chief to behold the manner of his death. Only, in the face
of the village, as the young man leaped to the shore, Lone Chief rose
up in his canoe and made a mighty cast. And the spear entered the body
of the young man above the hips, and the young man fell upon his face.
"Whereupon Lone Chief leaped up the bank war-club in hand and a great
war-cry on his lips, and dashed into the village. The first man he met
was Itwilie, chief over the Mukumuks, and him Lone Chief smote upon
the head with his war-club, so that he fell dead upon the ground. And
for fear we might not behold the manner of his death, we too, the five
score young men, leaped to the shore and followed Lone Chief into the
village. Only the Mukumuks did not understand, and thought we had come
to fight; so their bow-thongs sang and their arrows whistled among us.
Whereat we forgot our errand, and fell upon them with our spears and
clubs; and they being unprepared, there was great slaughter--"
"With my own hands I slew their shaman," proclaimed Lone Chief, his
withered face a-work with memory of that old-time day. "With my own
hands I slew him, who was a greater shaman than Skolka, our own
shaman. And each time I faced a man, I thought, 'Now cometh Death; and
each time I slew the man, and Death came not. It seemed the breath of
life was strong in my nostrils and I could not die--"
"And we followed Lone Chief the length of the village and back again,"
continued Mutsak. "Like a pack of wolves we followed him, back and
forth, and here and there, till there were no more Mukumuks left to
fight. Then we gathered together five score men-slaves, and double as
many women, and countless children, and we set fire and burned all
the houses and lodges, and departed. And that was the last of the
Mukumuks."
"And that was the last of the Mukumuks," Lone Chief repeated
exultantly. "And when we came to our own village, the people were
amazed at our burden of wealth and slaves, and in that I was still
alive they were more amazed. And my father, the Otter, came trembling
with gladness at the things I had done. For he was an old man, and I
the last of his sons. And all the tried fighting men came, and the
crafty and wise, till all the people were gathered together. And then
I arose, and with a voice like thunder, commanded Skolka, the shaman,
to stand forth--"
"Ay, O White Man," exclaimed Mutsak. "With a voice like thunder, that
made the people shake at the knees and become afraid."
"And when Skolka had stood forth," Lone Chief went on, "I said that
I was not minded to die. Also, I said it were not well that
disappointment come to the evil spirits that wait beyond the grave.
Wherefore I deemed it fit that the soul of Skolka fare forth into the
Unknown, where doubtless it would howl forever in the dark and endless
forest. And then I slew him, as he stood there, in the face of all
the people. Even I, Lone Chief, with my own hands, slew Skolka, the
shaman, in the face of all the people. And when a murmuring arose, I
cried aloud--"
"With a voice like thunder," prompted Mutsak.
"Ay, with a voice like thunder I cried aloud: 'Behold, O ye people! I
am Lone Chief, slayer of Skolka, the false shaman! Alone among men,
have I passed down through the gateway of Death and returned again.
Mine eyes have looked upon the unseen things. Mine ears have heard the
unspoken words. Greater am I than Skolka, the shaman. Greater than all
shamans am I. Likewise am I a greater chief than my father, the Otter.
All his days did he fight with the Mukumuks, and lo, in one day have I
destroyed them all. As with the breathing of a breath have I destroyed
them. Wherefore, my father, the Otter, being old, and Skolka, the
shaman, being dead, I shall be both chief and shaman. Henceforth shall
I be both chief and shaman to you, O my people. And if any man dispute
my word, let that man stand forth!'
"I waited, but no man stood forth. Then I cried: 'Hoh! I have tasted
blood! Now bring meat, for I am hungry. Break open the caches, tear
down the fish-racks, and let the feast be big. Let there be merriment,
and songs, not of burial, but marriage. And last of all, let the girl
Kasaan be brought. The girl Kasaan, who is to be the mother of the
children of Lone Chief!'
"And at my words, and because that he was very old, my father, the
Otter, wept like a woman, and put his arms about my knees. And from
that day I was both chief and shaman. And great honor was mine, and
all men yielded me obedience."
"Until the steamboat came," Mutsak prompted.
"Ay," said Lone Chief. "Until the steamboat came."