“Accordingly, every time I came to him he got no fish, and though he

changed his position three times, yet he got nothing. Now, if ever

there was a picture of disappointed plans--of envy at others’ fortunes,

and sorrow at a sad misfortune--it was to be found in that dog’s

countenance as he watched his companions receiving their allowance.

Finding that he could not succeed by any change of his position, he

withdrew from the circle to where I was, and came to me, crowding his

way between my legs, and looked up in my face as if to say, ‘I have

been a very bad dog. Forgive me, and Barbekark will cheat his brother

dogs no more. Please, sir, give me my share of capelins.’ I went the

rounds three times more, and let him have the fish, as he had shown

himself so sagacious, and so much like a repentant prodigal dog.”

* * * * *

Marriage among the Esquimaux is of the very simplest description, and

is generally arranged by the parents of the bride and bridegroom, the

latter having nothing to do with the affair. There is no marriage

ceremony, the parties merely going to live in the same igloo. A man

may, and often does, have several wives, and in this case one of them

takes the position of the chief, or igloo wife, and is supreme under

her husband. She has the largest lamp, the best bed, and the best

provision. But she also has the entire management of the household,

such as cooking the food, and drying the clothes on the “dry-net.” This

is by no means a sinecure, as it forces her to rise many times in the

night for the purpose of turning the clothes and drying them equally.

She also has to see that the boots are properly “milled.”

After a child is born, the mother is obliged to confine herself to her

own igloo for some months, and when the allotted time has expired, she

throws off all the clothing which she has worn, and never wears it

again. She then dresses herself in a totally new suit of clothes, and

visits in succession the inhabitants of every igloo. If a second or

third child be born, a separate igloo is always built for the mother,

to which she repairs before the birth of the child, and in which she

remains until the customary time has elapsed and she is able to call

upon her neighbors.

The children begin their education at a very early age; the boys being

taught to paddle the kia, to hunt and to fish, and to build igloos;

while the girls learn to row the women’s boat, to dress skins, to

manage the lamp, to cook, and perform the multitudinous tasks that

fall to their lot. The carving of the Esquimaux women is wonderfully

good. They make spirited, though conventional, imitations of fish,

ducks, dogs, and various animals, from ivory, using in the manufacture

nothing but a knife. In the earlier days, before white men visited

them, the Esquimaux were obliged to rely entirely upon flint as a

material for their knives, which were exactly like those of the

ancient and perished races. In chopping the flakes off the flint, the

Esquimaux employed a very simple instrument, the use of which showed

an exact knowledge of the fracture-line of flint. It is made of bone

and ivory, and is about six inches in length. Iron, indeed, is of so

late introduction, that when Captain Lyon visited the natives, in 1821,

he could purchase a complete harpoon, with its ivory head, float,

and line, for a nail; while a knife would purchase a kia, or indeed

anything that was asked in exchange for it.

As may be inferred from the climate, the games of the Esquimaux are but

few. They are wonderful experts at a sort of “cat’s-cradle,” producing

with a piece of string imitations of seals, reindeer, ducks, canoes,

and other objects. The little ivory models of ducks and other animals,

which have already been mentioned, are used in several of the native

games.

Their dances are remarkable for their simplicity, the dancer inventing

the steps according to his own taste. There is a dance in which a

number of women stand in a ring, with their hands under the front flaps

of their jackets, and sing, with half-closed eyes, the inevitable

Amna-aya song: these are the band. The dancers are represented by one

man, who takes his place in the middle of the ring, swings his head and

arms from side to side, his long, lank hair flapping in the wind, while

he utters sharp yells at intervals, and occasionally flings one leg as

high as his thick garments permit.

The women have a special dance of their own, which consists in kneeling

on the ground, leaping to their feet as fast as they can. This is

really a difficult task when the heavy and clumsy boots are taken into

consideration. Sometimes the men challenge each other to dance, and

in that case the challenge is accepted by employing the “koonik,” or

national salutation, which is given by rubbing the noses together, and

inhaling strongly through the nostrils.

With regard to religion, the Esquimaux seem to have no very definite

idea of the subject, except that they believe in a future existence,

in a heaven and a hell--the latter being, according to their ideas,

dark, full of ice, with snow-storms always blowing, and no seals. They

have also a hazy description of a Supreme Being, and a secondary female

divinity, the special protector of the Esquimaux.

By way of worship, they have sundry medicine men, or “angekos,” as they

are called, who go through a series of strange ceremonies on various

occasions, such as illness, or when a party is setting out on a hunting

expedition. They make the people pay heavily for their services, and

rule with a rod of iron, so that no Esquimaux is likely to retain

possession of any valuable piece of property if an angeko should happen

to be in the neighborhood. They act upon a very simple and intelligent

principle, namely, that the amount of success in “ankooting,” or

divining, is in exact ratio with the amount of pay.

Sometimes, in order to impress awe upon their victims, the angekos

go through a series of imposing ceremonies, the performance of which

infers a vast amount of practice. By the present of a knife and some

beads, Captain Lyon induced a celebrated angeko, named Toolemak, to

have an interview with a Tornga, or familiar spirit, in the cabin of

the ship.

“All light excluded, our sorcerer began by chanting to his wife with

great vehemence, and she, in return, answered by singing the Amna-aya

(the favorite song of the Esquimaux), which was not discontinued during

the whole ceremony. As far as I could learn, he afterward began turning

himself rapidly round, and, in a loud, powerful voice, vociferated for

Tornga with great impatience, at the same time blowing and snorting

like a walrus. His noise, impatience, and agitation increased every

moment, and he at length seated himself on the deck, varying his tones,

and making a rustling with his clothes.

“Suddenly the voice seemed smothered, and was so managed as to sound as

if retreating beneath the deck, each moment becoming more distant, and

ultimately giving the idea of being many feet below the cabin, where it

ceased entirely. His wife, now, in answer to my queries, informed me

very seriously that he had dived, and that he would send up Tornga.

“Accordingly, in about half a minute, a distant blowing was heard very

slowly approaching, and a voice which differed from that which we at

first had heard was at times mixed with blowing, until at length both

sounds became distinct, and the old woman informed me that Tornga was

come to answer my questions. I accordingly asked several questions of

the sagacious spirit, to each of which inquiries I received an answer

by two loud slaps on the deck, which I was given to understand was

favorable.

“A very hollow yet powerful voice, certainly much different from the

tones of Toolemak, now chanted for some time, and a strange jumble of

hisses, groans, shouts, and gabblings like a turkey succeeded in rapid

succession. The old woman sang with increased energy, and, as I took

it for granted that this was all intended to astonish the Kabloona,

I cried repeatedly that I was very much afraid. This, as I expected,

added fuel to the fire, until the form immortal, exhausted by its

own might, asked leave to retire. The voice gradually sank from our

hearing, as at first, and a very indistinct hissing succeeded. In

its advance, it sounded like the tone produced by the wind upon the

bass-cord of an Æolian harp; this was soon changed to a rapid hiss,

like that of a rocket, and Toolemak, with a yell, announced his return.

I held my breath at the first distant hissing, and twice exhausted

myself; yet our conjuror did not once respire, and even his returning

and powerful yell was uttered without a previous stop or inspiration of

air.

“Light being admitted, our wizard, as might be expected, was in a

profuse perspiration, and certainly much exhausted by his exertions,

which had continued for at least half an hour. We now observed a couple

of bunches, each consisting of two strips of white deer-skin and a long

piece of sinew, attached to the back of his coat. These we had not

seen before, and were informed that they had been sewed on by Tornga

while he was below.” A similar exhibition has been seen by several

travellers, and they have expressed their astonishment at the length of

time during which an angeko can howl, hiss, and gabble without taking

breath.

While he is below the earth, the angeko is supposed to visit the

habitation of the particular spirit whom he is addressing, and

sometimes gives a detailed account of the places in which he has been,

and of their inhabitants. One female spirit, for example, is called

Aywilliayoo. She commands all the bears, whales, seals, and walruses by

means of her right hand. So, when there is a scarcety of provisions,

the angeko makes a visit to Aywilliayoo and attacks her hand. If he

can cut off her nails, the bears immediately are set free, the loss of

one finger joint liberates the small seals, the second joint sends the

large seals, the knuckles free the whole herds of walrus, while the

entire hand liberates the whale.

In figure this spirit is very tall, and has only one eye and one

pigtail, but this is as large as a man’s leg, and descends to her knee.

Her house is a very fine one, but Toolemak did not venture to enter it,

because it was guarded by a huge dog with black hind-quarters and no

tail. Her father is no larger than a boy of ten years old, and he has

but one arm, which is always covered with a large bear’s-skin mitten.

His house is also handsome, but its entrance is guarded by troops of

bears and walruses, who keep up a continual growling.

Unfortunately for his own credit, Toolemak got drunk one evening, as he

might well be, having consumed in succession nearly ten glasses of rum,

or “hot water,” as he was pleased to call it. During his intoxication

he became very good-natured, and betrayed the secrets of his magic

art, showing how he altered his voice by covering his face with his

hands and then with his jacket, so as to make the voice appear as if

it came from a continually increasing depth. He finished this singular

exhibition by drinking in succession eleven pints and one gill of

water, and within a few minutes became sober enough to leave the ship

and walk to his sledge.

Sometimes the Esquimaux say that they are annoyed by spirits. On

one occasion when a man nicknamed Kettle was eating in Captain

Lyon’s cabin, he became uneasy, and frequently ceased eating, a very

remarkable circumstance in a hungry Esquimaux. Presently he said that

there was a spirit sitting on the opposite side of the cabin, making

grimaces at him, and preventing him from eating. He asked leave to

drive his tormenter away, which he did by raising a long, bellowing

sound, and then blowing sharply on the ends of his fingers. He resumed

his meal quietly, and nothing would induce him to blow on his fingers

or raise the exorcising yell again, on the ground that the spirit was

no longer to be seen.

* * * * *

The Esquimaux possess wonderful powers of drawing. They know scarcely

anything of perspective, but they can make their sketches tell their

own tale; while in drawing from memory a chart of a coast, their skill

is really admirable. In Captain Hall’s book there are fac-similes

of several native charts and sketches, the most curious of which

is one which was not only drawn but engraved on wood by the native

draughtsman. It represents a woman with a child nestling in the hood

behind her back, and is quite equal in execution to wood-cutting in

the earlier stages of the art. The point about it which most strikes

a practised eye is the force and fidelity with which the artist has

marked the texture of the different parts of the dress; the fur coat

and trowsers edged with leather, and the white-edged, fur-lined hood,

are most admirably managed.

Of music and musical instruments the Esquimaux know little. They

have the Amna-aya song, which has already been mentioned, and they

possess one national musical instrument, called the “keeloun.” This is

something like a tambourine, being formed of a very thin deer skin, or

the envelope of the whale’s liver, stretched over one side of a wooden

hoop. A handle is attached to the hoop, and the instrument is struck,

not upon the membrane, but upon the hoop.

As a nation they are remarkable for two good qualities, honesty and

hospitality. There are, of course, exceptions to every rule, and such

is the case with the Esquimaux. But the early voyagers found that they

might leave their knives and axes on shore, and that not one of them

would be touched. Now, to an Esquimaux a steel knife or axe is more

valuable than a box full of sovereigns would be to us, and the honesty

of the Esquimaux was as much tried by the sight of these articles as

would be that of our London poor if a heap of sovereigns were left

lying on the pavement.

As to hospitality, their food is considered to be merely common

property, so that if one of the Esquimaux should kill a seal, all his

friends and neighbors assemble as a matter of course to assist in

eating it; and even though the family of the successful hunter should

be starving, he will nevertheless invite all his friends to partake

of the food. In this way, it often happens that an entire seal barely

affords a single meal to all who come to share it.

* * * * *

Funerals among the Esquimaux are rather variable in their forms.

Generally, when a sick person is on the point of death, a new igloo is

built, and carefully fitted with lamp, provisions, and other furniture.

The dying person is carried in--not through the regular doorway, but

through a breach in the wall--placed on the couch, the lamp lighted,

and the provisions laid ready to hand. The attendants then leave the

igloo, build up the openings, and never trouble themselves again about

the sick person. The principal reason why the dying are left alone is,

that if the relatives are in the igloo at the moment of death, they are

obliged to throw away the dresses which they were wearing, and never

to wear them again. None of them can tell the reason for this strange

belief, but it is so strongly ingrained that no argument can induce

them to abandon it.

Sometimes the body of a dead person is simply buried in a hole scooped

in the snow, and sometimes it is laid upon a ledge of rock, accompanied

by the lamp, kettle, knives, spears, and dresses which the deceased

used while in life. When a child dies, all its toys are placed with it

in the grave, that it may be supplied with them in the next world.

The demeanor of the Esquimaux with regard to their dead is a most

extraordinary mixture of affection and unconcern. After having buried

the body, whether alive or dead does not matter, they care nothing

about it, and this strange insensibility is even displayed before the

burial. For example, a man’s wife had died, leaving a child of a few

weeks old, which in a short time followed its mother. The father was

very sorrowful for his dying child, and was seen in the night lifting

the curtains of its bed as it lay ill on board ship, and sighing

deeply. But, on the next day, when he came to the ship, he made no

scruple of laying his meat on the body of the child, and using it as a

table at breakfast.

Once, when Captain Lyon visited the grave where an Esquimaux named

Pekooya had been laid, he found that the wolves and dogs had uncovered

the body, and had eaten a considerable portion of it. He was naturally

shocked at the scene, but the natives treated it with absolute

indifference, and though the father and a brother of Pekooya were

witnesses of the desecration, they would not cover up the mangled body,

and only laughed when Captain Lyon remonstrated with them. Moreover,

when the body was buried, it was covered so slightly with snow that the

first day’s thaw would melt off all the snow, and leave it to the mercy

of the dogs.

Judging from such a fact as this, it might be thought that the

Esquimaux have but little natural affection, and that they are

indifferent to the loss of their nearest relatives. Such, however, is

not the case. An Esquimaux never passes the grave of an acquaintance

without depositing a piece of meat as an offering, and the surviving

relatives often visit the burying-place of their dead, and sit there

for hours, talking to them as if they were still alive. On comparing

all the conflicting accounts respecting the Esquimaux and their dead,

it seems likely that they consider the dead body as something that the

deceased once possessed, but cast away at death, and that, as their

departed friend abandoned the body, they need take no trouble about so

worthless an article.

* * * * *

If the reader will refer to the illustration on page 1347, he will

see that the horizon is illuminated by strange and wild-looking

dashes of light. These represent the Aurora Borealis, as it often

appears in those parts,--not pale and flickering as we see it in these

comparatively southern regions, but blazing with all imaginable hues,

and giving out a light that stands the natives in stead of the sun,

which in those latitudes is absent for months at a time. The glory and

magnificence of these displays can only be described by those who have

seen them, and very inadequately even by such.

There is an account given by Captain Hall of one of these marvellous

exhibitions:--“I had gone on deck several times to look at the

beauteous scene, and at nine o’clock was below in my cabin, when the

captain hailed me with these words, ‘_Come above, Hall, come at once!_

THE WORLD IS ON FIRE.’

“I knew his meaning, and quick as thought I re-dressed myself,

scrambled over several sleeping Innuits close to my berth, and rushed

to the companion stairs. In another moment I reached the deck, and as

the cabin door swung open, a dazzling and overpowering light, as if the

world were really ablaze under the agency of some gorgeously colored

fires, burst upon my startled senses. How can I describe it? Again I

say, _No mortal hand can truthfully do so_. Let me however, in feeble,

broken words, put down my thoughts at the time, and try to give some

faint idea of what I saw.

“My first thought was, ‘Among the gods there is none like unto Thee,

O Lord; neither are any works like unto Thy works!’ Then I tried to

picture the scene before me. Piles of golden light and rainbow light,

scattered along the azure vault, extended from behind the western

horizon to the zenith; thence down to the eastern, within a belt of

space, 20° in width, were the fountains of _beams_, like fire-threads,

that shot with the rapidity of lightning hither and thither, upward and

athwart the great pathway indicated. No sun, no moon, yet the heavens

were a glorious sight, flooded with light. Even ordinary print could

easily have been read on deck.

“_Flooded_ with rivers of light! Yes, flooded with light; and such

light! Light all but inconceivable. The golden hues predominated, but

in rapid succession _prismatic colors leaped forth_. We looked, we

saw, and trembled; for as we gazed, the whole belt of aurora began to

be alive with flashes. Then each pile or bank of light became myriads;

some were dropping down the great pathway or belt; others springing

up, others leaping with lightning flash from one side, while more as

quickly passed into the vacated space; some twisting themselves into

folds, entwining with others like enormous serpents, and all these

movements as quick as the eye could follow.

“It seemed as if there were a struggle with these blazing lights to

reach and occupy the dome above our heads. Then the whole arch above

became crowded. Down, down it came; nearer and nearer it approached

us. Sheets of golden flame, coruscating while leaping from the auroral

belt, seemed as if met in their course by some mighty agency that

turned them into the colors of the rainbow, each of the seven primary

colors 3° in width, sheeted out to 21°.

“While the auroral fires seemed to be descending upon us, one of our

number could not help exclaiming,--

“‘Hark! hark! such a display! almost as if a warfare were going on

among the beauteous lights above--so palpable--so near--it seems

impossible without noise.’

“But no noise accompanied this wondrous display. All was silence....

“I would here make the remark that the finest displays of the aurora

only last a few moments. Though it may be playing all night, yet

it is only now and then that its grandest displays are made. As

if marshalling forces, gaining strength, compounding material, it

continues on its silent workings. At length it begins its trembling

throes; beauty anon shoots out here and there, when all at once the

aurora flashes into living hosts of _powdered_ coruscating rainbows,

belting to the heavenly dome with such gorgeous grandeur that mortals

sometimes tremble to behold.”

These wonderful aërial phenomena are characteristic of the Arctic

regions. One of the most extraordinary appearances in the sky is called

the Parhelion, or Mock Sun. It assumes various and most astounding

forms, the sun appearing in the middle, and being surrounded with

dimmer imitations of itself, round which run circular bands of light.

There seems, indeed, to be no end to the extraordinary modifications

of aërial effects which take place in these regions. Captain Hall

described many of them, among which may be mentioned a moon distorted

beyond all recognition, its lower limb all crushed and shapeless,

and the whole appearance of the planet like that of a man under the

influence of liquor.

Then the refractive powers of the atmosphere produce most wonderful

effects, destroying all perspective, and bringing into sight all kinds

of objects which, by the ordinary laws of optics, are far out of sight.

All sailors are familiar with the appearance of a vessel high in the

air, sailing, as it were, through the sky with her keel in the clouds,

and the tops of her masts pointing downward. In these regions the

refractive powers are even terrible to accustomed eyes, so wonderful

are the sights presented to them.

In one of these strange exhibitions, witnessed by Captain Hall, a

vast white inverted pyramid seemed to form in the sky, and at every

roll of the vessel to dip into the sea. Presently “some land that was

seventy-five miles distant, and the top of it only barely seen in an

ordinary way, had its rocky base brought full in view. The whole length

of this land in sight was the very symbol of distortion.

“Pendant from an even line that stretched across the heavens was _a

ridge of mountains_. Life hangs upon a little thread, but what think

you of mountains hanging upon a thread? In my fancy I said, ‘If Fate

had decreed one of the Sisters to cut that thread while I witnessed

the singular spectacle, what convulsions upon the land and sea about

us might not have followed!’ But Nature had an admirable way of taking

down these rock-giants, hanging between the heavens and the earth. Arch

after arch was at length made in wondrous grandeur from the rugged and

distorted atmospheric land; and, if ever man’s eye rested upon the

sublime, in an act of God’s creative power, it was when He arcuated the

heavens with such a line of stupendous mountains.

“Between those several mountain arches in the sky were hung icebergs,

also inverted, moving silently and majestically about as the

sea-currents shifted those along of which they were the images. In

addition to all this there was a _wall of water_, so it appeared, far

beyond the apparent horizon. This wall seemed alive with merry dancers

of the most fantastic figures that the imagination could conceive,

and its perpendicular columns were ever playfully changing. Oh, how

exquisitely beautiful was this God-made, living wall! A thousand

youthful forms of the fairest outline seemed to be dancing to and fro,

their white arms intertwined, bodies incessantly varying, intermixing,

falling, rising, jumping, skipping, hopping, whirling, waltzing,

resting, and again rushing to the mazy dance--never tired--ever

playful--ever light and airy, graceful, and soft to the eye.”

[Illustration: WRIST-GUARD AND HOOKS. (See page 1343.)]

Such, then, is a brief account of the remarkable and interesting Innuit

people--a people which, according to the observation of Captain Hall,

are gradually dying out, and in a few more years will cease to exist.

CHAPTER CXLII.

VANCOUVER’S ISLAND.

THE AHTS AND NEIGHBORING TRIBES.

DEFINITION OF THE AHT TRIBES -- APPEARANCE OF THE NATIVES -- STRENGTH

OF GRASP -- PECULIARITY OF THE LEGS -- GAIT OF THE WOMEN -- SPEED

OF THE MEN -- DANCE -- THE LIP ORNAMENT OF THE WOMEN -- CLOTHING --

THE BOAT CLOAK AND HAT -- WEAPONS -- THE BOW AND ARROW -- INGENIOUS

CONSTRUCTION OF THE BOW -- ITS BACKING OF ELASTIC STRINGS -- THE

ARROWS AND THEIR SPIRAL FEATHERING -- THE FISH SPEAR AND HARPOON

ARROWS -- THE HALIBUT HOOK -- VARIOUS MODES OF HUNTING -- SALMON

SPEARING BY TORCHLIGHT -- THE HERRING RAKE -- HOW TO KEEP THE BOAT

FROM SINKING -- THE WHALE FISHERY.

Before leaving this part of the world, we will cast a brief glance

at the tribes which inhabit Vancouver’s Island. They are singularly

interesting, inasmuch as they combine some of the habits which

distinguish the Esquimaux with others of the North American tribes,

and add to them several of the customs which have been already noticed

among the Polynesians, their insular position and peculiar climate no

doubt affording the cause for this curious mixture.

* * * * *

As a type of these tribes, we will take the AHTS, though other tribes

will be casually mentioned. The Ahts may rather be called a nation than

a tribe, being divided into some twenty tribes, the names of which

all end in “aht,” as, for example, Ohyaht, Muchlaht, Ayhuttisaht,

Toquaht, etc. Altogether they number about seventeen hundred. They do

not, however, act together as a nation, and each tribe is perfectly

distinct, and often at war with another.

They are not a tall people, the men averaging a little less than five

feet six inches, and the women being just above five feet. Possibly,

from the continual paddling which they practise almost from childhood,

the upper limbs of an Aht are exceedingly strong, so strong, indeed,

that a slight-looking native can carry with ease on his extended

fingers a weight which a white man can scarcely lift. Their power of

grasp, probably from the same cause, is more like the grip of a machine

than the grasp of a man; and those who have had to fight with them have

found that if once an Aht be allowed to seize either the clothing or

the hair, the only way to loosen his grasp is to knock him down with a

blow in the throat or in the ribs--he cares nothing for a blow on the

head.

When he comes to such close quarters in a quarrel, he has an awkward

habit of grasping the enemy with one hand, and using with the other a

knife which he has kept concealed in his long hair. Fortunately for his

white opponent, so extraordinary a proceeding as a blow from the fist,

which deprives him for a time of breath, bewilders and alarms him to

such an extent that he seldom risks its repetition.

The legs of the Aht tribes are, as a rule, short, ill-made, bowed,

and apparently deficient in power. This peculiarity is especially

noticeable in the women, whose legs are so bowed, and whose toes are

so turned inward, that they waddle rather than walk, and at every step

they are obliged to cross their feet as a parrot does. The legs of

the inland tribes are, as a rule, better developed than those of the

inhabitants of the coast. Yet these unsightly limbs are by no means

deficient in power. An Aht, powerfully built above, will step out of

his canoe, and exhibit a pair of legs scarcely as thick as his arms,

and yet he will walk in the woods for a whole day without showing any

signs of fatigue.

Owing to this form of limb, the natives, though enduring enough, are

not swift of foot, and can be easily overtaken by a white man on

the open ground, notwithstanding the impediments of clothing, and

especially of shoes, which hinder the progress of the pursuer, the

pursued usually throwing off the only garment that he wears. Should he

once reach the woods, pursuit is useless, as no white man can follow a

naked native in them.

The color of the Ahts is a dull, but not dark, brown. Their face is

broad and flat, the nose tolerably well formed when it is not dragged

out of shape by rings and other ornaments, and the cheek-bones are

strongly marked and broad, but not high. There is very little hair on

the faces of the men, but that of the head is long, straight, and is

generally allowed to hang loosely over the shoulders, though it is

sometimes gathered into a knot at the back of the head, merely covered

by a cap or a wreath of grass. They are very proud of their hair, so

that when an Aht has been guilty of some offence which is not very

serious, the best punishment is to cut off his hair, inasmuch as he

will be an object of constant ridicule until it has grown again. The

women divide their hair in the middle, and tie it in two plaits, one

of which hangs at each side of the face, and often has a piece of lead

suspended to the end to keep it straight. Mr. Sproat thinks that the

physical characteristics of the Ahts have been modified by means of a

large importation of Chinese, which took place about the end of the

last century, and remarks that the peculiar Chinese eye is sometimes

seen among these natives. Still, even if this be the fact, the

modification can be but slight, as both people are undoubtedly members

of the same great race, though altered by the conditions in which they

have respectively been placed.

Some of the women have a hideously ugly ornament which they wear in

their under lip, just as do the Botocudos of Tropical America. This

practice exists only among the northern tribes, where it is carried

out to an enormous extent. As the size of the ornament is gradually

increased from childhood, the lip of an old woman will contain an oval

ornament three inches long by two wide. There is a shallow groove round

the edge so as to keep it in its place, and both sides are slightly

concave. Sometimes it is used as a spoon, the woman putting on it a

piece of meat that is too hot, and, when it is cool, turning it into

her mouth by a contraction of the lip.

The value that is set upon this horrible disfigurement is almost

ludicrous, a woman’s rank being due to the size of her lip ornament.

Possibly, on account of the long time which must be occupied in

stretching the orifice in the lip to the required size, the opinion

of a woman with a large lip is always held in respect; and, if she

should be opposed by a younger person of her own sex, she will

contemptuously decline to enter into argument with a woman who has so

small a lip. Some of them wear a shell ornament, like the stem of a

clay tobacco-pipe, one or two inches long, stuck through the lip and

projecting forward at a considerable angle with the chin. This ornament

is called the hai-qua.

As for clothing, the men wear a sort of robe made by themselves, for

which they have in later days substituted an European blanket. They

are not at all particular as to the disposal of this robe, and even

if it should fall off do not trouble themselves. The women also wear

the blanket, but always have a small apron in addition to it. In their

canoes they wear a cape. It is made of cedar-bark string, and is woven

in nearly the same manner as the mat of the New Zealander, which has

already been described; namely, by stretching the warp threads parallel

to each other on a frame, and tying them together at intervals with a

cross-thread which represents the woof. A specimen in my collection has

the cross-threads at intervals of half an inch.

It is shaped exactly like the cross section of a boat, straight above,

and rounded below. It measures five feet three inches in width, and

three feet six inches in depth in the centre. As is usual with such

robes, the upper edge is adorned with a strip of marten fur a quarter

of an inch wide, wound spirally round the selvage so as to form quite

a thick rope of fur. These capes are the work of the women, who have

the manufacture of all the clothing. Fur bags are made by the simple

process of skinning the marten, the body being then extricated through

a cut made across the abdomen just below the tail. As the skin comes

off it is reversed, and when dry and properly dressed it is turned with

the fur outward, and the bag is complete, the tail serving as a handle.

One of these bags in my collection was presented to me by Lieut. Pusey.

The woof thread is also made of the white pine bark, and the needle is

nothing more than a sharpened twig. The same useful materials are also

employed for the curious hats which the natives wear in their canoes.

These hats are made on the principle of the sailors’ “sou’-westers,”

and are fashioned so as to shoot rain off the shoulders. The outside of

the hat is made of cedar bark, and the inside of white pine bark.

* * * * *

Depending largely upon animal food for their nourishment, the Aht

tribes are expert hunters, and make very ingenious weapons, some of

which are shown in the illustrations on page 1357, drawn from my own

specimens.

The bow and arrows used by these people are worthy of a brief

description. The bow is an admirable specimen of savage art, and must

be the result of long experience. It is four feet three inches in

length, and made of one piece of wood. In general shape it resembles

the bow of the Andamans, though it is not of such gigantic dimensions.

In the middle the wood is rounded, so as to form a handle which is

nearly four inches in circumference. From the handle to the tips, the

wood is gradually flattened and widened for about fourteen inches,

where it is just two inches wide. From this point it gradually lessens

again to the tip, which is rounded and thickened, so as to receive the

notch for the string.

Were no addition made to the bow it would still be a very powerful

weapon, but the maker has not been satisfied with the simple wood, and

has strengthened it with a wonderfully complex arrangement of strings

made of twisted sinews. In my specimen there are rather more than fifty

of these strings, which are laid on the bow and interwoven with each

other in a manner so strong and neat, that the most skilful sailor

might be envious of such a piece of handiwork. Each of these strings is

double, the two strands being about as large as thin whipcord, and when

seen against the light they are quite translucent.

They are put on in the following manner. Two deep notches, parallel to

the line of the bow, are made at each lip, these notches serving two

purposes: first, the reception of the bow-strings, and next the support

of the strengthening strings. Eight of the strings, measuring about

eleven feet in length, have been doubled, the loop passed over the tip

of the bow, and the strings led along the back over the corresponding

notch at the other tip, and brought back to the middle. These strings

lie parallel to each other, and form a flat belt from one end of

the bow to the other. About an inch below the tip, three other sets

of strings are fastened in a somewhat similar manner, so that four

distinct layers of strings run throughout the length of the weapon.

[Illustration: ARROWS.]

Even these have not sufficed the maker, who has added six more layers

starting from the widest and flattest part of the bow, so that nearly

three feet of the centre of the weapon are strengthened by no less than

twelve layers of sinew strings. By referring to the illustration, the

reader will perceive the extreme ingenuity with which the strings are

laid on the bow, so that whether the weapon be bent or unstrung, they

all keep their places. So firmly are they lashed to the bow, that even

when it is unstrung they are all as tight as harp strings.

The string of the bow is made of the same material as those which

strengthen the back, and in consequence of the very great strength

of the material, it is much thinner than the string of an ordinary

archer’s bow. It is made of two strands, each strand being about as

large as the back strings.

By referring to illustration No. 3, on the next page, a good idea can

be gained of this singularly ingenious weapon. At first the bow is seen

as it appears when strung, fig. 3 giving a section of the wood. At fig.

2 is an enlarged representation of one end of the bow, so as to show

the manner in which the various sets of strings are fastened. At the

upper part are seen the strings which form the first layer, passing

over the end of the bow, and filling up the notch in which they lie.

Just below the tip come the second and third sets, which pass down the

bow, where they are met by, and interwoven with, the remainder of the

strings, the whole of them being gathered in the rope with its spiral

building. This beautiful weapon was added to my collection by Lieut.

Pusey, R. N.

The arrows are of various kinds, according to the object for which they

are intended. That which is used for ordinary occasions is shown in the

uppermost figure of the illustration. It is two feet three inches in

length, and is headed with bone.

There is a peculiarity about these arrows which is worthy of notice.

Some time ago an arrow was patented in England, which had the feathers

placed spirally upon the end of the shaft, so as to give it a rapidly

revolving movement when discharged from the bow. The principle was

exactly that of the screw which is applied to steam vessels; and those

who used the arrow acknowledged that the spiral setting of the feathers

not only increased the power of flight, but enabled the archer to drive

his arrow through the wind with greater ease and certainty than could

be obtained with the ordinarily feathered arrow. There is a very old

saying that there is nothing new under the sun, and this is the case

with the arrow in question, the savages of Northern America having

adopted the same principle long ago. In their arrows the feathers are

set spirally, with a bold curve, and there is really no difference

between the weapon of the savage and the toy of civilization, than the

greater neatness and higher finish of the latter.

[Illustration: (1.) AHT FISH-HOOK. (See page 1359.)]

[Illustration: (2.) PIPES. (See page 1370.)]

[Illustration: SECTION

BACK ENLARGED

(3.) BOW OF THE AHTS. (See page 1356.)]

[Illustration: (4.) BEAVER MASK OF AHT TRIBE. (See page 1365.)]

[Illustration: (5.) HEADDRESS. (See page 1365.)]

[Illustration: SIDE VIEW

(6.) PADDLES. (See page 1363.)]

The lower figure represents the arrow which is used for killing fish.

In this weapon the point is also of bone, but is very much longer, and

is double, the two halves diverging considerably from each other, and

being barbed on the inner surface. It is firmly lashed to the shaft,

and their divergence is given by means of two pegs, which are driven

between the shaft and the two portions of the point. If a fish be

struck by this ingenious weapon, it cannot possibly escape, the elastic

points contracting violently and holding the fish between them.

It is worthy of notice that a police spear made exactly on the same

principle is used by the Malays. It consists of a handle some seven

feet long, from the end of which project two diverging points. The

inner side of each point is armed with a row of very sharp barbs, all

directed backward. Thorns are often used for this purpose. Should a

criminal try to escape, the police officer has only to thrust his spear

against the back of the man’s neck, when he is at once a prisoner, the

barbed points effectually preventing him from escaping, even should the

officer drop his weapon. The zoölogical reader will remember that the

teeth of the snake and of many fish--the pike, for example--are set on

exactly the same principle.

In some specimens the head is fitted loosely on the shaft, and

connected with it by means of a string, which is wound spirally round

it, and when the fish is struck the head is shaken off the shaft, which

serves both as a drag to aid in tiring the fish, and as a float by

which its presence may be indicated.

The most ingenious of these arrows is used for shooting seals and the

larger fish, and is very elaborately constructed. It measures about

four feet in length, and is almost deserving of the name of harpoon

rather than arrow.

The shaft is made of very light wood, and is about as thick as a man’s

finger. At the butt-end it is feathered in the usual manner, and at

the other it is terminated by a pear-shaped piece of bone an inch in

diameter at the thickest part. Into the end of this bone is bored a

small conical hole, which receives the head. This is also made of bone,

and is very small in comparison with the arrow, and is furnished with

two deeply cut barbs. As is the case with all harpoon weapons, the head

is connected with the shaft by a line, but in this case there is a

peculiarity about the line and its mode of attachment.

Instead of being a mere double-strand string, it is made of a number of

fibres arranged in three strands, and plaited, not twisted together,

so as to form a flat line, which possesses enormous strength combined

with great elasticity and small size. The mode of attachment is as

ingenious as the method of manufacture. The line is a double one,

measuring twelve feet in length. The line is first doubled, the loop

is put through a hole in the point and over the head, so as to secure

it, and the two halves of the line are then lashed together about

eighteen inches from the point. One end is then fastened to the arrow

just below the feathers, and the other to the shaft just above the bone

tip. The object of this arrangement is evident. As soon as a seal is

struck, it dashes off, shaking the shaft from the barbed head, which

remains in its body. Were the line simply tied to the end of the shaft,

the wounded creature would easily drag it through the water. But, as

the line is fastened to each end of the shaft and to the head besides,

when the latter transfixes a seal it is separated from the shaft, and

the shaft is drawn crosswise through the water, presenting so great

a resistance that the seal becomes exhausted with its unavailing

struggles, and comes to the surface, where it is despatched with a

second or third weapon.

Besides the harpoon and fish arrow, these people also use the hook (see

page 1357), which is quite as ingenious in its way as the implements

which have been described. The body of the hook is of wood, and is

exactly in the shape of the capital letter U. The point bends slightly

outward, and is charred at the tip to render it harder. It is also

defended and strengthened by a band of very tough vegetable fibre,

which covers it for about three inches. The barb is a piece of bone,

about five inches in length, sharpened like a needle at the point. This

barb is not attached to the point, as is the case with the generality

of hooks, but is fastened to the shank, and is so long that its tip

reaches to the middle of the hook.

At first sight this seems a very inadequate arrangement for securing

fish, and looks as if the creature could easily slip off the unguarded

point. If, however, the hook, which is a very large one, be tested,

it will be found astonishingly efficacious. If the point be inserted

between the fingers, as it would be inserted into the jaws of a

fish, and then brought upward, it will be found that the sharp barb

effectually prevents the hook from being withdrawn.

There is one effect of this mode of fixing the barb which may or may

not have been intended. Should, by any accident, the line become

entangled with the hook, and reverse it, the fish is quite as secure,

the long, straight barb forming a second hook, to which it is

transferred. The body of this hook is made of the Douglas pine, and

it is brought into shape by steaming. The hook is chiefly used for

catching the halibut, as, for some reason, the Ahts will not use a

steel hook in the capture of this fish.

There is plenty of game, both large and small, in these regions, though

the chase is in all cases a severe one, and tests not only the skill

but the endurance of the hunter. There is, for example, the black

bear, which is a most valuable animal, its fur being used for clothing,

and its flesh for food. Bear hunting is not carried on at all times of

the year, but is generally followed toward the end of autumn, when the

bears are fat, and about to enter their winter quarters. Sometimes the

Ahts wait until the bear has gone into retirement, and then spear it in

its winter home. Traps are in great favor, because they do not spoil

the skin. They are very simple; the trap consisting of a tree trunk

heavily loaded with stones, and suspended at one end over the animal’s

track. It is kept in position by a trigger, to which is attached a

slight rope crossing the track. It is always placed in some spot where

a large stump or the root of a fallen tree allows the trap to be set

without disturbing the appearance of the track.

Then there are one or two deer, the largest of which is the wapiti,

commonly but erroneously called the elk. The hunter generally takes it

by following its track, and stalking it as it feeds, when the powerful

bow drives an arrow to its heart. The skill of the hunter is shown as

much after the deer is dead as during the actual chase. Captain Mayne

mentions that he has seen a wapiti killed, and in a quarter of an hour

it has been skinned, the whole of the flesh removed from the bones, and

the skin converted into moccasins. The natives have rather a strange

way of carrying the meat. At their first halt after killing a deer,

they cut the meat into pieces two or three inches square, transfix them

with a long stick, and carry the stick upon their shoulder, every now

and then pulling off a piece and eating it as they go along. In this

manner the flesh of a deer vanishes in a wonderfully short time. Very

little meat is preserved, the Ahts generally eating it as soon as the

animal is killed.

As to the fish, there are so many that only one or two can be

mentioned. The salmon is the fish that seems to be the most valued by

these fish-eating tribes, and it is caught, as with us, in a variety

of ways. Sometimes the natives use a rather curious fish spear, about

fifteen feet long in the shaft, and with a double head, made of wapiti

bone. The head is only slightly fixed in the shaft, to which it is

attached by a line, as in the harpoon arrow already described. Should

the fish be a very heavy one, the hunter merely ties to the line a

number of inflated bladders, and causes it to tire itself by useless

struggles before he risks the fracture of the line or loss of the

barbed head, one or both of which events would probably happen if he

were to try to secure a fresh and powerful fish.

Sometimes, when the fish are plentiful, they are caught by dropping

among them a stick armed with barbed points, and jerking it upward

sharply, until it impales a fish on one or other of these points.

“Burning the water” is employed in catching salmon, and is carried on

by two natives, one of whom paddles the canoe, while the other stands

in the bow, where a torch is kept burning, and strikes the fish as they

glide through the water. Mr. Sproat mentions that a single canoe has

been known to bring back forty fine salmon as the result of a day’s

fishing. Salmon traps are also employed. These are made after a fashion

closely resembling that of the eel-traps used in this country. They are

double baskets, externally cylindrical, and are set with their mouths

directed down the stream. When the fish try to pass up the stream they

enter the basket, and, as the inner basket is very much shorter than

the other, shaped like a sugar-loaf, the salmon finds itself imprisoned

between them. Some of these baskets measure as much as twenty feet

in length, and five feet in diameter, so that they will contain a

considerable number of fish.

One of the oddest fishing instruments is that by which the herring is

caught. This is a pole about ten feet in length, flattened at one end

like the blade of an oar, and armed along the edge with projecting

spikes. When the fisherman gets among a shoal of herrings, he plunges

his pole into the mass of fish, draws it through them with a peculiar

movement of the arms, so as to transfix the herrings on the spikes,

and then shakes them into his boat. By this mode of fishing, which is

called “herring-raking,” great numbers of fish are taken, as well as by

the net, which is ingeniously made from fibre obtained from a native

nettle, which reaches eight or ten feet in height.

The Ahts are such keen fishermen that they will often endanger the

safety of their canoes by the quantity of fish with which they will

heap them, so that the gunwales are sunk within an inch or so of the

water’s edge. In calm weather they can manage well enough, even with

such a burden as this; but if the wind should get up before they can

reach the shore, the danger is very great. Should such an event happen,

these enterprising fishermen will not throw their cargo overboard to

save the boat, but will fasten all the spare floats round the canoe, so

as to keep it from sinking even if it be filled with water.

There is scarcely any end to the use which is made by the Ahts of

these floats, and with their aid they will attack and conquer even the

gigantic whale. The following account of their mode of whale fishing

is written by Mr. G. M. Sproat:--“A whale-chase is an affair of some

moment. The kind of whale commonly seen on the coast was described by

an old whaling skipper as ‘finner,’ in which there is not much oil.

The season for fishing whales commences about the end of May or in

June. Many whales are killed every season by the Nitinahts, who live

principally on the seaboard near Barclay or Nitinaht’s Sound. This

tribe has a custom, which I have not observed elsewhere, of separating

during spring and summer into small parties, each under a separate

head, but all still continuing under the chieftaincy of the principal

chief of the tribe.

“Months beforehand preparations are made for the whale fishing, which

is considered almost a sacred season. I particularly noticed this

circumstance from having, in my boyhood, heard of the Manx custom,

in which all the crews of the herring fleet invoke a blessing before

‘shooting’ their herring-nets. The honor of using the harpoon in an Aht

tribe is enjoyed but by few,--about a dozen in the tribe,--who inherit

the privilege. Instances, however, are known of the privilege having

been acquired by merit.

“Eight or nine men, selected by the harpooner, form the crew of his

canoe. For several moons before the fishing begins, these men are

compelled to abstain from their usual food; they live away from their

wives, wash their bodies morning, noon, and night, and rub their skins

with twigs or a rough stone. If a canoe is damaged or capsized by a

whale, or any accident happens during the fishing season, it is assumed

that some of the crew have failed in their preparatory offices, and

a very strict inquiry is instituted by the chief men of the tribe.

Witnesses are examined, and an investigation made into the domestic

affairs of the accused persons. Should any inculpatory circumstance

appear, the delinquent is severely dealt with, and is often deprived of

his rank and placed under a ban for months.

“When the whales approach the coast, the fishermen are out all day,

let the wind blow high or not. The canoes have different cruising

grounds, some little distance apart. The Indian whaling gear consists

of harpoons, lines, inflated seal-skins, and wooden or bone spears. The

harpoon is often made of a piece of the iron hoop of an ale cask, cut

with a chisel into the shape of a harpoon blade, two barbs fashioned

from the tips of deer-horns being affixed to this blade with gum. Close

to the harpoon the line is of deer sinews. To this the main line is

attached, which is generally made of cedar twigs laid together as thick

as a three-inch rope. Large inflated skins are fastened to this line

about twelve feet from the harpoon. The weapon itself is then tied

slightly to a yew handle ten feet long.

“On getting close, the harpooner, from the bow of his canoe, throws his

harpoon at the whale with full force. As soon as the barb enters, the

fastening of the wooden handle, being but slight, breaks, and becomes

detached from the line. The natives raise a yell, and the whale dives

quickly, but the seal-skins impede his movements. Very long lengths

of line are kept in the canoes, and sometimes the lines from several

canoes are joined. On the re-appearance of the whale on the surface, he

is attacked from the nearest canoe; and thus, finally, forty or fifty

large buoys are attached to his body. He struggles violently for a

time, and beats and lashes the water in all directions, until, weakened

by loss of blood, and fatigued by his exertions, he ceases to struggle,

and the natives despatch him with their short spears. The whale is

then taken in tow by the whole fleet of canoes, the crews yelling and

singing, and keeping time with their paddles.

“Sometimes, after being harpooned, the whale escapes, and takes ropes,

harpoons, seal-skins, and everything with him. Should he die from his

wounds, and be found by another tribe at sea, or on shore within the

territorial limits of the finders, the instruments are returned to the

losers, with a large piece of the fish as a present. Many disputes

arise between tribes on the finding of dead whales near the undefined

boundaries of the tribal territories. If the quarrel is serious, all

intercourse ceases, trade is forbidden, and war is threatened. By and

by, when the loss of trade is felt, negotiation is tried. An envoy

is selected who is of high rank in his own tribe, and, if possible,

connected with the other tribe by marriage. He is usually a quiet man

of fluent speech. Wearing white eagle feathers in his headdress as a

mark of peace, he departs in a small canoe. Only one female attendant,

generally an old slave, accompanies him, to assist in paddling, as

the natives never risk two men on such occasions. The envoy’s return

is anxiously awaited. As a general rule, the first proposition is

rejected. Objections, references, counter proposals, frequently make

three or four embassies necessary before the question can be settled.

By that time the blubber must be very rancid.”

[Illustration: CANOE OF THE AHTS. (See page 1362.)]

CHAPTER CXLIII.

VANCOUVER’S ISLAND--_Continued_.

THE AHTS AND NEIGHBORING TRIBES--_Continued_.

MANUFACTURE OF CANOES -- CORRECT EYE OF THE NATIVE BUILDERS --

MATERIAL AND SHAPE OF THE PADDLE -- MODE OF USING IT -- PATTERN WITH

WHICH IT IS DECORATED -- “CUTTING” THE WAVES -- SKILL AND ENDURANCE

OF THE PADDLERS -- ESCAPE OF A NATIVE -- FEASTS AMONG THE AHT TRIBES

-- METHOD OF COOKING -- THE WOODEN POTS AND HEATED STONES -- HOW

“THE INDIANS DIED” -- DISTRIBUTION OF PROPERTY, AND ITS CONSEQUENT

DESTRUCTION -- SACRED CHARACTER OF A FEAST -- THE SACRED MARKS -- THE

ARTIFICIAL SNOW-STORM -- THE DOCTOR’S DANCE -- ADMIRABLE ACTING --

SIMULATED MURDER AND RECOVERY OF THE CORPSE -- THE ROOF DANCE.

The canoes in which the Aht tribes make their expeditions are carved

out of solid wood. The tree which is employed for this purpose is a

kind of cedar (_Thuja gigantea_), which flourishes by the sea. When a

native wishes to make a canoe, he looks out for a good tree as near

as possible to the water, and, with the assistance of a comrade, cuts

it down. Now that he has European tools, he can fell a tree with some

rapidity, but in the olden times, when his sole tool was a sort of

chisel made of wapiti horn, it was a very slow process indeed. The

only way of using this primitive instrument was by placing the edge of

the chisel against the tree, and striking the butt with a heavy stone,

shaped something like a dumb-bell.

The tree being felled, the bark is stripped off, and the trunk split

lengthwise by wedges. The next process is to hollow out the inside,

which is done entirely by hand, fire not being employed, as is the case

with many savage tribes. The outside is then dubbed down to the proper

thickness by means of an adze formed of a large mussel-shell fixed in

a handle. In this work the natives use no measuring tools, but trust

entirely to the eye; yet their work is so true that, when the boat is

completed, it sits lightly on the water, and is well balanced. Any of

my readers who have made even a toy boat will appreciate the difficulty

of this task.

In about three weeks or so the canoe is roughly hewn and hollowed,

and then comes a more difficult business, namely, the bringing it

into the peculiar shape which the Ahts think to be the best. This is

done by filling the canoe with water, and throwing redhot stones into

it till the water boils. This part of the process is continued for a

considerable time, until the wood is quite soft, and then a number of

crosspieces are driven into the interior, so as to force the canoe into

its proper shape, which it retains ever afterward.

While the canoe is still soft and comparatively pliant, several slight

crosspieces are inserted, so as to counteract any tendency toward

warping. The outside of the vessel is next hardened by fire, so as to

enable it to resist the attacks of insects, and also to prevent it

from cracking when exposed to the sun. Lastly, the bow and stem pieces

are fixed to the canoe, and the interior is painted of some brilliant

color, usually red. The outside is generally quite black and highly

polished, this effect being produced by rubbing it plentifully with oil

after the fire has done its work. Lastly, a pattern of some kind is

generally painted on the bow and stern.

The figure on page 1361 will give the reader a good idea of the form

of this canoe. It is drawn from a large model brought from Vancouver’s

Island by Lieut. Pusey, and added by him to my collection. In this

specimen the patterns at the bow and stem are red and blue. As is

mostly the case with canoes made by savages, there is no keel to the

boat.

The paddle by which the canoe is propelled is a singularly ingenious

one, combining the three qualities of lightness, elasticity, and

strength to a really remarkable extent. The paddle represented in

fig. 1 of illustration No. 6, on page 1357, is one of the specimens

in my collection. It is four feet six inches in length, and the blade

is about six inches wide at the broadest part. It is shaped with the

greatest accuracy, the part where it is grasped by the left hand being

nearly cylindrical, and then widening gradually until it forms the

blade. At this part it is very thin--so thin, in fact, that it seems

scarcely able to bear the strain that is put upon it when the paddler

urges his canoe swiftly over the water.

The lightness of such a paddle is wonderful. The specimen which is

figured in the illustration only weighs eighteen ounces, being hardly

half the weight of a similarly sized New Zealand paddle. The reader

will notice the peculiar handle. This is made in order to suit the mode

of paddling. When the Aht gets into his canoe, he grasps the paddle

with his left hand about eighteen inches from the end, and places his

right hand upon the crosspiece that serves as a handle. The left hand

thus acts as a fulcrum; upon the right hand works the leverage of the

paddle. Beside this paddle is figured another from the Solomon Islands,

in order to show how two totally distinct races of mankind have hit

upon the same invention. There is even a similarity in the form of

their canoes, as well as in the shape of their paddles.

The reader will observe that the blade of the paddle is covered with a

pattern which extends some way up the handle. This is the work of the

women, who take upon themselves the decoration of the paddles after

their husbands have shaped them. The colors employed are generally

black and red, the latter hue being obtained by a preparation of

annatto. In this particular specimen, red is the chief color, the large

oval marks on the side of the blade and on the handle being red, while

the more intricate pattern on the blade is drawn in black.

No matter what may be the color of the paddle, the pattern is always

of the same character. I have no doubt in my mind that it is really a

conventional mode of depicting the human face, such as is seen upon the

work of many extinct races of mankind; and although at a first glance

the semblance may not be seen, it is evident to a practised observer,

and is, moreover, quite in character with other works of art found of

these people.

The broad, flat, sharp-edged blade of the paddle is often used for

other purposes besides propelling the canoe. It has already been

mentioned that the Ahts will not throw overboard their cargo of fish,

no matter how high the waves may roll, or how deeply the canoe may be

loaded. They watch carefully for the waves, and if one of them comes in

such a manner that it would dash inboard, they have the art of cutting

it in two with a blow from the edge of the paddle, and causing it to

fly harmlessly over the little vessel.

Both in making canoes and in other work where holes have to be bored,

the Ahts make use of a simple drill, formed from the bone of a bird,

fixed in a wooden handle. When it is used, the shaft is taken between

the two hands, the point placed on the object to be bored, and the

hands moved swiftly backward and forward until the hole is made. In the

same manner, by using a stick instead of a drill, fire is produced,

precisely as is done by the Kaffirs.

The skill of the paddlers is wonderful. Mr. Sproat mentions the escape

of an Aht Indian who had committed several murders, and had contrived

to escape from custody. Finding the place where he had concealed

himself, a party set out to recapture him, and discovered him running

across the snow to gain the shelter of a wood. Had he reached it

he would have been safe, so one of the pursuers chased him, and,

notwithstanding the disadvantage of wearing shoes, which soon became

clogged by the snow, succeeded in gaining on him, the Ahts being, as

has already been remarked, very poor runners.

The man soon perceived that he was no match for his pursuer in running,

and so, abandoning his intention of reaching the wood, he turned

sharply off toward the river, flung off his blanket, and leaped into

the stream. Presently he was seen making his way toward a canoe which

was made fast to a drift tree in the river, and in a short time he

reached it, looked eagerly into it to see if there were a paddle,

scrambled into the boat, cast it off, and paddled away. Meanwhile two

of his pursuers had got into a canoe, and were paddling after him, so

that when he cast the boat loose they were not more than twenty yards

from him. It was, however, quite enough for the fugitive, who forced

his canoe up the stream with a power and rapidity which soon increased

the distance between the two boats, and, in spite of all the efforts of

his pursuers, he made his way to the bank nearly fifty yards ahead of

them. As soon as he reached the shore, he jumped out of the canoe, and

dashed into the wood, where it was useless to follow him.

Several times during the struggle Mr. Sproat had the man covered with

his revolver, but the skill, grace, and strength of the fugitive were

so admirable, that, much to the discontent of his companions, he would

not fire. He remarks that in such a chase as this a white man has no

chance with an Aht, but that in a long race on the sea the white man

will win, his powers of endurance exceeding those of the savage.

The possession of a canoe is an object of much ambition among the

Ahts, as it confers upon them a sort of distinction, and is looked

upon much as is the possession of a carriage among ourselves. Each

canoe is furnished with a baling instrument, which is always made of

wood. It is, in fact, a large spoon, the bowl being angular, and shaped

something like the gable of a house.

* * * * *

The domestic manners of the Ahts are, from Mr. Sproat’s account,

very interesting, and, as he remarks, if any one only knew their

strange language well, and had the stomach and the nose to live among

them during the winter months, he would obtain copious information

respecting them.

Winter is the time mentioned, because during the summer the men are

generally dispersed in their pursuit of game, especially of salmon,

which they dry and preserve for winter use. But about November they

return to their homes, and a time of general feasting and enjoyment

sets in. Cooking goes on all day, and the revellers are perpetually

feasting, while during times of work they only eat twice in the day,

namely, in the morning and evening, and even then do not eat much at

each meal. Fish is the principal article of their diet, and dried

salmon is the food which is most plentiful, though they also eat the

flesh of the seal and the whale when they can get it. Of late years the

Ahts have obtained rice and molasses, and apparently with a bad effect

upon their health.

The pots in which the food is cooked are made of wood, the water being

boiled, not by placing the pots on the fire, but by heating stones

red hot and throwing them into it. Rude as this mode of boiling water

may seem, it is much more rapid and effectual than might be imagined,

which will account for the wide spreading of the custom. In more than

one place, when the white man visited the natives for the first time,

nothing impressed them so strongly as the fact that, when he boiled

water, he put the vessel on the fire. The capability of making a vessel

that would endure such treatment had, in their eyes, something of the

supernatural.

An old native illustrated well the astonishment which they themselves

felt when they saw a kettle placed on the fire for the first time. He

narrated the story to Mr. Duncan in the following quaint but forcible

language:--“The strangers landed, and beckoned the Indians to come to

them and bring them some fish. One of them had over his shoulder what

was supposed to be only a stick. Presently he pointed it at a bird that

was flying past--a violent ‘poo’ went forth--down came the bird to the

ground. The Indians died! As they revived, they questioned each other

as to their state, whether any were dead, and what each had felt.

“The whites then made signs for a fire to be lighted. The Indians

proceeded at once according to their tedious practice of rubbing two

sticks together. The strangers laughed, and one of them, snatching up a

handful of dry grass, struck a spark into a little powder placed under

it. Instantly, another ‘poo’ and a blaze! The Indians died! After this,

the new-comers wanted some fish boiled. The Indians therefore put the

fish and some water into one of their square wooden buckets, and set

some stones in the fire, intending, when they were hot, to cast them

into the vessel, and thus boil the food. The whites were not satisfied

with this way. One of them fetched a tin kettle out of the boat, put

the fish and some water into it, and then, strange to say, set it on

the fire. The Indians looked on with astonishment. However, the kettle

did not consume, the water did not run into the fire. Then again the

Indians died!”

Sometimes a man of consequence issues invitations for a solemn feast,

and on such an occasion he seizes the opportunity of showing his wealth

by the liberal distribution of presents, every individual present

receiving a share of the property. Consequently, a feast always affords

a scene of destruction. For example, Captain Mayne mentions that at one

feast which he witnessed, he recognized three sea-otter skins, for one

of which thirty blankets had been offered and refused. Yet, valuable

as they were, they were cut up into little pieces about three inches

by one, so that every guest might have a piece. As each blanket is to

the Aht the equivalent of a sovereign among ourselves, the amount of

waste may be imagined. Mr. Duncan, the successful missionary among

these people, relates several instances of the waste of property which

takes place both on these and other occasions. For example, a chief had

just built a house, and issued invitations for a great feast. “After

feasting, I heard he was to give away property to the amount of four

hundred and eighty blankets, of which one hundred and eighty were his

own property, and the three hundred were to be subscribed by his people.

“On the first day of the feast, as much as possible of the property to

be given to him was exhibited in the camp. Hundreds of yards of cotton

were flapping in the breeze, hung from house to house, or on lines put

up for the occasion. Furs, too, were nailed up on the fronts of houses.

Those who were going to give away blankets or elk-skins managed to

get a bearer for every one, and exhibited them by making the persons

walk in single file to the house of the chief. On the next day, the

cotton which had been hung out was now brought on the beach, at a good

distance from the chief’s house, and there run out at full length, and

a number of bearers, about three yards apart, bore it triumphantly

away from the giver to the receivers. I suppose that about six to eight

hundred yards were thus disposed of.

“After all the property the chief is to receive has been thus openly

handed to him, a day or two is taken up in apportioning it for fresh

owners. When this is done, all the chiefs and their families are called

together, and each receives according to his or her position. If,

however, a chief’s wife is not descended from a chief, she has no share

in this distribution, nor is she ever invited to the same feasts as her

husband. Thus do the chiefs and their people go on reducing themselves

to poverty. In the case of the chiefs, however, this poverty lasts but

a short time; they are soon replenished from the next giving away, but

the people only grow rich again according to their industry. One cannot

but pity them, while one laments their folly.

“All the pleasure these poor Indians seem to have in their property is

in hoarding it up for such an occasion as I have described. They never

think of appropriating what they can gather to enhance their comforts,

but are satisfied if they can make a display like this now and then; so

that the man possessing but one blanket seems to be as well off as the

one who possesses twenty; and thus it is that there is a vast amount of

dead stock accumulated in the camp, doomed never to be used, but only

now and then to be transferred from hand to hand for the mere vanity of

the thing.

“There is another way, however, in which property is disposed of even

more foolishly. If a person be insulted, or meet with an accident, or

in any way suffers an injury, real or supposed, either of mind or body,

property must at once be sacrificed to avoid disgrace. A number of

blankets, shirts, or cotton, according to the rank of the person, is

torn into small pieces, and carried off.”

Sometimes a feast assumes a sacred character, and such festivals are

held during the latter half of the last month in the year, their object

being to induce the demons who have charge of the weather to give them

rain instead of snow. In one of these feasts, witnessed by Mr. Garrett,

the principal part was performed by a female chief, who lay on her back

in the middle of the house as if dead, while all the people assembled

were making a hideous noise, howling, wailing, and beating with sticks

the bench on which they sat, while a young man added to the hubbub by

drumming upon a wooden box. After a while the prostrate woman began

to show signs of life, and gradually assumed a sitting posture. In

this attitude she contrived to jump round the room, and exhibited some

extraordinary vagaries, the other occupants of the room alternating

dead silence with deafening uproar at signals from her hand.

The costumes that are worn at such feasts are very remarkable articles,

especially the head-dresses that are worn by the chiefs. They take the

form of masks, and are cut out of solid wood, generally imitating the

heads of various birds and beasts, though they sometimes are carved

in the semblance of a grotesque human face. The specimens which are

shown in the illustrations on page 1357 will give a good idea of these

strange headdresses. One of them, which was presented to me by Lieut.

Pusey, is carved in imitation of a beaver’s head, and is tied on the

wearer’s head with strings. There are holes bored through the eyes,

by means of which the wearer is enabled to see, and these holes are

cleverly bored in a slanting direction, so as to coincide with the

pupil of the eye. Some of these masks are made with great goggle eyes

and large jaws. Both the eyes and the jaws are movable, and are worked

by strings that pass down the back, so that the wearer can make the

eyes roll and the jaws open and close without any apparent cause.

Sometimes the masks are made in the form of birds, and by a similar

arrangement of cords, the birds can be made to turn their heads from

side to side, and to flap their wings while the wearer speaks. There is

a very remarkable specimen of these masks in the museum at Maidstone.

It is double, one mask within another. The outer mask is divided by

lines drawn from forehead to chin, down the centre of the nose, and

across the face, so that it is in four distinct pieces. The pieces all

work on hinges, and are so well fitted to each other that a spectator

could not suspect that they were not one solid piece. Suddenly, while

the wearer is dancing, he will fling all the pieces open, and discover

a second and more hideous mask beneath.

When the chief wishes to pay an extraordinary compliment to a visitor,

he puts on a mask that is fitted with a number of porcupine quills.

Upon this head-dress he heaps a vast quantity of swan’s down, which

is retained in its position by the quills. He then dances up to the

visitor, and, as he retreats backward in the dance, gives a jerk with

his head, and sends the down flying over him. It is a point of honor

that the visitor should be kept enveloped in a shower of down, as if

he were in a snow-storm, and this can only be done by perpetually

dancing and nodding the head, which is kept well supplied with down by

attendants.

White feathers and down always signify peace, and hence, when a man

sets off on a mission of peace to a neighboring tribe with whom there

has been a quarrel, he puts white down on his head, and knows that his

person will be as sacred as that of the bearer of a flag of truce in

civilized warfare.

One of the dances practised by the Ahts displays a really wonderful

amount of ingenuity, and must take no little time to practise. It was

witnessed by Mr. Sproat, who describes it in the following terms. The

different dances are called Nooks in Aht language. This might be called

the “Doctor’s (Ooshtukyu) Nook.” A fine representation of it by the

artist is given on the following page.

“During the song and dance, which at first seemed to present nothing

peculiar, a well-known slave (one, however, who was in a comparatively

independent position, being employed as a sailor on board the steamer

_Thames_), suddenly ceased dancing, and fell down on the ground

apparently in a dying state, and having his face covered with blood. He

did not move or speak, his head fell on one side, his limbs were drawn

up, and he certainly presented a ghastly spectacle. While the dance

raged furiously around the fallen man, the doctor, with some others,

seized and dragged him to the other side of the fire round which they

were dancing, placing his naked feet very near the flames.

“After this a pail of water was brought in, and the doctor, who

supported the dying man on his arm, washed the blood from his face; the

people beat drums, danced, and sang, and suddenly the patient sprang

to his feet and joined in the dance, none the worse for the apparently

hopeless condition of the moment before. While all this was going on, I

asked the giver of the feast whether it was real blood upon the man’s

face, and if he were really wounded. He told me so seriously that it

was, that I was at first inclined to believe him, until he began to

explain that the blood which came from the nose and mouth was owing to

the incantations of the medicine man, and that all the people would be

very angry if he did not afterward restore him.

“I then recalled to mind that in the early part of the day, before

the feast, I had seen the doctor and the slave holding very friendly

conferences; and the former had used his influence to get a pass for

the latter to be present at the entertainment, to which, probably,

he had no right to come. I feel sure that many of the Indians really

believed in this exhibition of the doctor’s power. When the affair

was over, many of the natives asked me what I thought of it, and

referred to it as if it must set at rest for ever any possible doubts

with regard to the abilities of their native doctors. The Indian, who

explained this and other performances to me, said that the cure was

not entirely owing to the doctor, but to the large body of dancers and

singers, who all ‘exerted their hearts’ to desire the recovery of the

sick man, and so procured the desired effect.”

This simulated production of blood forms an element in several of the

Aht dances. In one of them a man, stripped even of his blanket, is

bound with his hands behind him, and driven about at the end of long

cords, while the spectators yell, shout, and hammer with sticks upon

wooden dishes and drums made of bear-skin.

Suddenly the chief dashes among the people, brandishing a knife, and,

on seeing the bound man, gives chase to him, and to all appearance

drives the knife deeply into his back. Blood pours abundantly from the

wound, and the man rushes wildly about in search of shelter, followed

by the chief, who plunges his bloody weapon repeatedly into the man’s

back. Exhausted by his wounds and loss of blood, the victim staggers,

falls, and dies. His friends gather round the dead body, and carry it

outside the house, when it washes itself, and puts on its blanket.

Mr. Sproat remarks of this dance that the illusion is absolutely

perfect, and the acting so lifelike, that the performers would make the

fortune of a minor theatre in London. The red liquid which simulates

blood is a mixture of red gum, resin, oil, and water; and is, indeed,

the material which is used for painting the inside of the canoes.

Another of these “nooks” is called the seal dance. The performers take

off their blankets, and, though in the depth of winter, go into the

sea, and crawl upon the shore, imitating the movements of the seals as

they flounder along the ground. They proceed in the same manner until

they reach the houses, which they enter, and crawl about the fires,

which are purposely kept brightly blazing by being fed with oil. The

dance is finished by jumping up and dancing round the house until the

performers are tired.

There is one dance which belongs specially to the Sesaht tribe, and,

absurd as it may seem, appears to have in it something of a religious

nature. It is peculiar to that tribe, and may not be omitted. While

the people are singing and dancing within the house, a number of the

performers clamber up the posts, push some of the roof-boards aside,

get on the roof, and dance there, making a noise like thunder. As the

dancers become fatigued, they descend from the roof and others take

their places, so that there is a constant stream of men ascending and

descending the roof.

After the dance is over, an old man makes a speech to the owner of the

house, saying that he is aware that the roof-boards are damaged by the

dance, but at the same time the ceremony may not be omitted. A number

of men then come forward, and each presents the owner of the house with

a small stick, which is a token that the owner will redeem it with a

new roof-board as soon as possible.

[Illustration: (1.) AN AHT DANCE. (See page 1366.)]

[Illustration: (2.) INITIATION OF A DOG EATER. (See page 1371.)]

CHAPTER CXLIV.

VANCOUVER’S ISLAND--_Concluded_.

THE AHTS AND NEIGHBORING TRIBES--_Concluded_.

ARCHITECTURE OF THE AHTS -- SEMI-NOMADIC CHARACTER OF THE PEOPLE --

THE PERMANENT FRAMEWORK, AND MOVABLE WALLS AND ROOF -- DIVISION OF

THE HOUSE -- RANK OF THE OCCUPANTS -- OBJECT AND MODE OF MIGRATION

-- PIPES OF THE AHT TRIBES -- LABOR EXPENDED IN THEIR MANUFACTURE --

RELIGIOUS SYSTEM OF THE TRIBES -- AN AHT PROMETHEUS -- SOCIETY OF THE

“ALLIED” -- THE MEDICINE MEN AND THEIR EDUCATION -- THE CANNIBALS AND

DOG-EATERS -- REVOLTING SCENES -- THE TWO CANNIBALS -- SACRED RATTLES

-- TERROR INSPIRED BY THE MEDICINE MEN -- DISPOSAL OF THE DEAD --

RESPECT FOR THE CEMETERY.

From the account of the Roof-dance in the preceding chapter, it is

evident that the houses are built very strongly, or they would not be

able to endure the violent stamping and jumping which constitute the

principal charms of the dance. The houses of the Ahts are constructed

after a very peculiar manner, the posts and framework being stationary,

and the roof and sides movable. The effect of this arrangement is to

enable the people to shift from one place to another. At each of the

spots to which they migrate they find the framework of their houses

ready for them, and all that they have to do is to carry with them the

roofs and walls. The mode of migrating will be presently described.

The framework of the houses consists of stout posts about twelve feet

in diameter, and twelve feet or so in height, placed at distances of

twenty feet from each other. The top of the post is hollowed so as to

receive the cross pieces which connect them. A house is some eighty

feet in length, and the ridgepole which supports the roof is made of a

single tree trunk. The roof, which is gabled-shaped, but slopes gently

from the back to the front of the house, so as to throw off the rain,

is made of cedar boards, about five feet long and nearly two inches

thick. The walls are made of similar boards lashed to small upright

posts driven into the ground.

Just below the roof a rude framework is extended, on which the

inhabitants keep their stores of food, their weapons, and similar

articles. About six feet from the walls, a strong stockade is erected,

so that each house becomes a sort of fortress. There are no windows,

and the only chimney is formed by removing one of the roof-boards above

the fireplace. In many of these houses, the large inside posts are

ornamented by having great faces carved upon them, face-carving being

an art in which these tribes excel, just as is the case with the New

Zealanders. Mr. Sproat mentions, that he has seen a row of such houses

extending for the third of a mile along a river’s bank, and that the

depth of the houses varied from twenty-five to forty feet.

Inside the house, the earth is dug away for a foot or so in depth,

in order to give additional height to the interior. Every house is

partitioned off into several divisions, each of which is occupied by a

family, which is thus separated from the other inhabitants by a sort of

bulkhead about four feet high. These partitions are movable, so that on

occasion of a great festival they can be taken away, and the whole of

the space kept clear. There is a fire in the middle of each division,

and around it are placed wooden couches, about nine inches from the

floor, and covered with a whole series of mats by way of bedding.

There is to each building one main entrance, and other small doors,

which are always in a corner of one of the divisions. The rank of the

different occupants is marked by the position which they occupy in the

house. For example, the chief of the house occupies the extreme end on

the left of the building, the next in rank lives in the corresponding

place at the other end, while the common people occupy the space

between the two great men.

These houses are much more agreeable to the eye than to the nostrils.

Having no windows, and all the stores of salt fish and other provisions

being kept in them, the interior atmosphere is close, fishy, rank, and

pungent, the last quality being due to the wood smoke of the several

fires. Neither is the exterior air better than that of the interior,

for the ground is covered with heaps of putrefying heads, tails, and

bones of fish, decaying mollusks, and refuse of all kinds, which is

simply flung into heaps and never removed, the nostrils of the natives

being incapable of feeling any annoyance from the horrible odor that

arises from the decomposing heaps.

The ownership of these houses is rather a complicated question. The

framework of the house is generally considered as being in several

divisions, each division being called after the name of the owner,

while the planks are the common property of the inhabitants.

When the Ahts wish to move to another spot, which is done for the

purpose of changing to better fishing, hunting, and fruit grounds,

according to the time of year, they always migrate by water. They

place two large canoes about five or six feet apart, and connect them

together with the planks of the roof and walls, which thus form a

platform on which can be placed the stores and household goods. Mr.

Sproat remarks that he has seen this platform heaped to a height of

fourteen feet, only just enough space being left for the passengers.

As soon as they arrive at their destination, the travellers unpack

the boats, and, assisted by the slaves who have been sent forward in

readiness, fix the boards on the already existing framework, so that in

a very short time the house is ready for the occupants.

These migrations have one beneficial effect. While the people have

deserted their villages, the birds, aided by the elements, the only

scavengers of Vancouver’s Island, clear away a considerable portion of

the heaps of putrefying rubbish, which would otherwise become too much

even for native endurance.

In the meetings which are held within these houses the pipe naturally

plays an important part; and, as the pipes made by these tribes differ

from those of any other part of the world, a short description is

here given of them. Both in shape and material these pipes are most

remarkable. They seem to have been made for the express object of

expending the greatest possible amount of labor upon the clumsiest

possible pipe. I have seen and tried many of these pipes, and, except

that they draw the smoke very well, there is not a redeeming point

about them.

In the first place, they are carved--stem and bowl--out of solid stone,

a sort of very dark slate. The upper figure in illustration No 2, on

page 1357, which represents one of these pipes in my collection, shows

the lightest and least cumbrous form of pipe. Although only eight

inches in length, it weighs six ounces, no trifle for a pipe of that

description. As is usually the case with these pipes, it is adorned

with a human figure and a human head. The figure evidently represents

a man seated in a canoe. On account of the details of dress, it seems

likely that it is intended to represent a native--possibly the carver

himself--in European costume, the features being of a strongly-marked

Indian type, while the dress is European. This pipe was presented to me

by Lieut. Pusey.

Sometimes the natives absolutely run riot in pipe making, and expend

infinite labor in making pipes which look utterly unlike pipes, and

which cannot be smoked without the very greatest inconvenience. The

lower specimens represent two views of a pipe of this kind, belonging

to T. W. Wood, Esq., which has apparently been made for the purpose

of trying how many heads of men and birds could be compressed into a

certain space. As the reader may observe, the whole character of this

carving bears a very strong resemblance to the art of the ancient

Mexicans, so strong, indeed, that it might almost be passed off as a

specimen of that art.

In total length it is a very little more than eight inches, but from

bowl to the mouth-piece it only measures five inches, the remaining

three inches being simply superabundant material. The number of heads

that the carver has contrived to introduce into this pipe is really

wonderful, the ingenuity of combination, together with force of effect,

being worthy of all praise, especially when the rudeness of the

workmanship is considered. Taken as a work of art, it is admirable;

taken as a pipe, it is detestable. It is so heavy that the mere

exertion of holding it is fatiguing, and it is so thick and clumsy that

it does not at all adapt itself to the lips. And, in so cold a climate,

to grasp or to put to the lips such a piece of hard, cold stone, must

involve very great inconvenience.

* * * * *

The religious ideas of the Aht tribes are, as may be expected,

exceedingly vague, and are rendered still more so by the reticence

which a savage always exhibits on such subjects. Mr. Sproat remarks

that he lived for two years among the Ahts, with his mind constantly

directed toward this subject, before he could discover whether the

people believed in any overruling power, or had any idea of a future

existence. He then proceeds to say that “a traveller must have lived

for many years among savages, really as one of themselves, before

his opinion as to their mental and spiritual condition is of any

value at all.” How true this statement is, none know better than the

missionaries, who find that even their most promising converts are

almost as unwilling to give information on such subjects as they were

during their state of heathenism.

It is, however, ascertained that the Ahts really have a belief in a

deity and in a future state, and that they possess several legends on

these subjects. Some of these legends treat of a certain Quawteaht,

who made the earth and the animals, but would not give them fire,

this being concealed in the body of the cuttle-fish. In those days

they needed fire, because the Indians, who were afterward to people

the earth, were hidden in their bodies. At last the deer succeeded in

discovering the fire, and carried away some of it in the joint of his

hind leg. The reader will doubtless perceive the similarity of this

legend to the old myth of Prometheus.

As far as can be understood, this Quawteaht is the chief of their

deities, but they have a whole host of minor divinities, who preside

over the sea, the woods, and their inmates, as well as rule the

elements. So, if a native sees a sudden breeze curl the surface of the

sea, he thinks it signifies the approval of some spirit; and if he

should hear a rustling in the woods for which he cannot account, or a

sound which he does not recognize, he immediately puts it down to the

presence of some demon or other.

As might be expected, there are plenty of medicine men, who have great

power over the people, and are implicitly trusted by them. They have

to go through a long and unpleasant ordeal before they can be admitted

into the order of the “Allied,” as the medicine men call themselves.

When their education is nearly finished, they go into the bush alone,

and remain there for several days, fasting until they have received the

spiritual gifts. The society of the Allied is encouraged by the chiefs,

not from religious motives, but because they become enriched by it. No

one can become an Allied unless he possesses considerable wealth, the

whole of which he must give away before he can be admitted into the

society. The act of giving away his property is done as ostentatiously

as possible, the candidate being escorted by a large body of men, who

shout and make as great a noise as they can. In front of them goes the

candidate, with one end of a large rope round his waist, the other

end being held by fifteen or twenty men, who pretend that all their

strength is required in order to hold him back.

Captain Mayne relates a curious anecdote respecting the doings of these

medicine men. He was called one evening to see a moon on the beach.

On arriving at the spot he found that the men had made a flat disk of

wax to represent the moon, and had painted a man upon it,--they having

the belief, which is still prevalent among the illiterate of our own

country, respecting a man who lives in the moon. They had lighted a

torch and placed it behind the artificial moon, so as to illuminate it,

and were supposed to be holding converse with its inhabitant, much to

the awe of the surrounding crowd.

These medicine men seem to be divided into three parties, or sects.

One of them does not appear to be particularly distinguished, but the

other two gradually rise in circumstances of horror. The former sect is

called the Dog-eaters, a portion of whose initiation is described by

Mr. Duncan, and is illustrated on page 1367.

“Early in the morning the pupils would be out on the beach or on the

rocks, in a state of nudity. Each had a place in front of his own

tribe, nor did intense cold interfere in the slightest degree. After

the poor creature had crept about, jerking his head and screaming for

some time, a party of men would rush out, and, after surrounding him,

would commence singing. The dog-eating party occasionally carried a

dead dog to their pupil, who forthwith commenced to tear it in the most

dog-like manner. The party of attendants kept up a low, growling noise,

or a whoop, which was seconded by a screeching noise made from an

instrument which they believe to be the abode of a spirit.

“In a little time the naked youth would start up again, and proceed a

few more yards in a crouching posture, with his arms pushed out behind

him, and tossing his flowing black hair. All the while he is earnestly

watched by the group about him, and when he pleases to sit down, they

again surround him and commence singing. This kind of thing goes on,

with several little additions, for a time.

“Before the prodigy finally retires, he takes a run into every house

belonging to his tribe, and is followed by his train. When this is

done, in some cases he has a ramble on the tops of the same houses,

during which he is anxiously watched by his attendants, as if they

expected his flight. By and by he condescends to come down, and they

then follow him to his den, which is signified by a rope made of red

bark being hung over the doorway, so as to prevent any person from

ignorantly violating its precincts. None are allowed to enter that

house but those connected with the art: all I know, therefore, of their

further proceedings is, that they keep up a furious hammering, singing,

and screeching, for hours during the day.

Even this mode of initiation cannot be very pleasant, involving, as it

does, the devouring of raw dog-flesh; but it is nothing in comparison

to that of the most powerful and dreaded of the three sects, namely,

the cannibals. Mr. Duncan was also a witness to part of the initiation

of a cannibal Allied.

In order to give his assistance to the ceremony, a chief ordered one

of his slaves, an old woman, to be killed, and her body flung into the

sea. As soon as this was done, the whole of the uninitiated population

left their houses and formed themselves into groups at a distance from

the fatal spot, lest they should also become victims, a fear for which

there was very good reason. Presently two bands of Allied men came

rushing along, producing the most hideous sounds, each being headed by

a candidate for membership.

The two candidates advanced with a long creeping step, waving their

arms, and jerking their heads backward and forward, so as to make

their long hair wave in the breeze. They pretended for some time to

be seeking for the body, and at last they discovered it, and made a

simultaneous rush at it. In a moment they were closely surrounded by

their respective bands, but in a few minutes the crowd opened, and out

passed the two men, each bearing half the body of the murdered woman,

which they had actually torn in two with their hands and teeth alone.

They then began devouring the body, when the spectator was unable to

endure the sight any longer, and left the spot.

These cannibal medicine men are the dread of their country. At the cost

of such revolting practices, as have been but very lightly touched,

they gain such a complete influence over the people, that they can do

exactly as they choose, no man daring to contradict them. Sometimes at

a feast one of them will be taken with a fit of inspiration, and dash

among the people, biting like a mad dog at every one whom he meets.

On such occasions it is thought very manly and praiseworthy of the

guests to welcome instead of repelling his attacks, and to offer their

arms or shoulders for him to bite. The Allied cannibal responds to the

invitation by biting at and swallowing a piece of the flesh, and the

man who offers it thinks himself honored in proportion to the size of

the piece that is removed. The wound thus made is not only productive

of excruciating pain, but is also dangerous, many men having died from

the effects of it. Yet they are willing to have both the pain and the

danger for the sake of the honor which is conferred upon them.

The general public have very good reason for getting out of the way

when one of these cannibals chooses to make an excursion in search of

a human body. Should not one be found, the cannibal Allied who escort

their companions would think themselves bound to provide a corpse for

his eating, and would seize and kill the first person whom they might

meet. Therefore, when the sound of the horrid cannibal songs is heard

in the distance, the whole population of a village will desert their

houses, take to their canoes, and remain at a distance from the shore

until the danger is over for the time.

These medicine men are considered all-powerful in the cure of the sick,

and are always called in when any one is ill. They almost invariably

say that the malady is local, and that it is due to some object or

other, which they can extract by their incantations. In the ceremonies

which they employ, they make much use of a rattle, the material of

which does not seem to be of much consequence, provided that it can

only make a noise. For example, a favorite form is a hollow wooden

case, carved like a bird or a frog, and containing a few stones.

Some rattles, however, are made on totally different principles, and

resemble the beetle-shell rattle of Guiana that is figured on page

1265. Captain Mayne saw one which was made of three or four dozen

puffin-beaks strung loosely together.

Incisions are often made over the part affected, or the doctor uses

the actual cautery by means of a moxa, made of a pledget of dried

flax. These remedies often do have the effect of relieving pain, and

when that is the case, the patient and his friends present the doctor

with liberal gifts, all which, however, he is bound to return should a

relapse come on and the patient die. They even say that, when they are

violently excited by their incantations, they can see the soul of the

patient, which they say is in the shape of a fly, with a long curved

proboscis. One man, who had recovered from a dangerous illness, said

that he had seen his own soul, which the medicine man had caught as it

was escaping from the body, and had put back again.

The noise which these medicine men make at their incantations is

almost indescribable. Mr. Sproat describes their howling as being

perfectly demoniacal, and says that no wild beast could utter sounds so

calculated to strike sudden horror into the heart. Even himself, though

a white man, and in perfect security, has often shuddered at the savage

yells of the mystery men. Indeed, their object is to keep up the dread

in which they are held, and, in order to do this, they must ever be

doing something to keep themselves before the eyes of the people.

Sometimes they will assemble together on the outskirts of the village,

set up a furious howling, and then rush like a pack of wolves through

the village, the cannibals and dog-eaters tearing to pieces with their

teeth any corpses or dogs that they may find. Sometimes a single man

will leave the place and bury himself in the woods, whence he will

suddenly rush, quite naked, reduced to a skeleton through his long

fast, with his body and limbs covered with wounds inflicted by himself

in his mad violence, and with foam flying from his lips, while he

utters wild yells and beats furiously his drum or shakes his magic

rattle. As is the case in Africa, women as well as men can enter this

sacred order, and exercise quite as powerful an influence over the

people as do their male colleagues.

Sometimes a man will leap up in the night terrified, and crying that

he sees a spirit. All within the house are at once in motion. The

women begin to sing, while the visionary tears his blanket to pieces,

snatches feathers from his pillow, eating some of them, and scattering

the others over his head. His nearest relation then makes incisions

in his legs and arms, receives the blood in a dish, and scatters it

over the place where the spirit is supposed to be standing. Should the

spirit withstand this exorcism, it is evident that he wants property.

Accordingly the friends of the visionary throw his property on the

fire; his clothes, his mats, and even the very boxes in which they were

kept, go to make up the demands of the spirit, which will not take its

leave until all the property has been destroyed.

* * * * *

The mode of disposal of the dead varies extremely among the different

tribes, and even in the same tribe is not always uniform. The bodies

of slaves and people of no consequence are simply taken to the

burial-ground--which is usually a small island--wrapped in mats, and

merely laid on the ground, covered with sticks and stones. The bodies

of chiefs and young girls of rank are placed in boxes, and hoisted

into the branches of trees, where they are allowed to remain. The rank

of the person is indicated by the height to which the body is raised,

that of a great chief or of his daughter being nearly at the top of

the tree, while that of an inferior chief will be on one of the lowest

branches.

Over the coffin are thrown blankets and mats, and similar articles are

hung on the boughs of neighboring trees. They are always torn into

strips, partly perhaps as a sign of mourning, and partly to guard them

from being stolen. With the dead man is deposited all the property

which he has not given away before his death, except his best canoe,

his share of the roof and wall boards, his weapons, and his slaves,

all of which belong by right to his eldest son. In some cases even his

house is burned, and in others the posts are dug up, and the whole

house transported to another position.

Near the bodies of chiefs are placed large wooden images intended

to represent the dead man. One of them, seen by Mr. Sproat, held a

skull in its hand, which it was grimly contemplating; another, which

represented a deceased orator, had its hand outstretched as in the act

of speaking; and a third was shown as if grasping a wolf. The relatives

often visit their burial-places. They come about dark, light a great

fire, and feed it with oil and other inflammable materials, while they

wail loudly at intervals.

To the honor of these tribes, it may be said that they never disturb

the relics of the departed, even if they occupy the burial-ground of a

hostile tribe. In consequence of the mode of burial, nothing can have a

more dreary or forlorn look than an island which has been selected as a

burial-ground. On the branches of the trees are the mouldering bodies

of the dead, and on their boughs flutter the tattered remains of their

clothing. And on the ground the scene is no better, for it is occupied

with decaying boards, broken boxes, shattered canoes, rotten paddles,

and other emblems of decay.

When the dead chief has been a man of very great importance, his emblem

or crest is either painted or carved. In the former case it is painted

on the coffin, but in the latter it is generally placed on a post or a

tree near the body. According to Mr. Duncan, if the crest should happen

to be an eagle or a raven, it is carved as if in the act of flying, and

fixed to the edge of the coffin with its wings spread, as if it were

typical of the escaping and aspiring spirit of the dead chief.

CHAPTER CXLV.

ALASKA.

MALEMUTES--INGELETES--CO-YUKONS.

LARGE STATURE -- THE TO-TOOK -- ORNAMENTS -- BAIDARRES -- UNDERGROUND

HOUSES -- MALEMUTE DANCE -- CHIEF ALEUYANUK -- INGELETES -- HOUSES

-- HONESTY -- CO-YUKONS -- DRESS -- MOURNING FOR THE DEAD -- WAKE

-- DISPOSAL OF THE DEAD -- APPEARANCE OF THE WOMEN -- AFFECTION FOR

CHILDREN -- COMMUNITY OF GOODS -- CHARACTER.

The United States Government having recently purchased the territory of

Alaska, this work will be increased in value to the American public,

by including some account of the uncivilized tribes which are its most

numerous inhabitants.

At the mouth of the Unalachleet River is the most northern settlement

on the coast, a Russian trading post. To the northwest of this post

Mr. Whymper found a large village of Malemute and Kaveak Indians.

They resemble the Esquimaux, except that they are a tall and stout

race. It is not unusual to find men among them six feet in height,

and some even taller than this. The men shave the crown of the head,

and are fond of an ornament called the To-took. It is made by pieces

of bone run through holes on either side of the face just below the

mouth. The ornaments of the women, who are stout and good-humored, are

a tattoo on the chin, beads hanging from their hair, and also leaden

or iron bracelets. Both sexes wear skin clothing. The coat has a hood

almost always, which is generally of wolf skin. Men and women alike

wear pantaloons of seal or reindeer skin, the women having the socks

attached and in one piece. The “baidarres” of these natives, similar

to the Esquimaux kajak, are admirably made. The frames are light and

strong, the skin covering being sewed with sinew, and the seams made

water-tight by fat rubbed into them.

Their houses are usually underground, and have a tunnel, through which

one must crawl to enter them. A hole in the roof--which is just above

the surface of the ground--lets out the smoke. When there is no fire,

this aperture is closely covered with a skin.

Mr. Whymper gives the following account of a dance to which he and his

party were invited:--

“On arriving at the doorway, we found a subterranean passage, two

and a half feet high, crawling through which we at last reached the

room,--dimly lighted by blubber lamps. The Indians who were to take

part in the dance, chiefly young men, were nude to the waist, and

wore seal, deerskin or cotton pantaloons, with tails of wolves or

dogs hanging behind, and feathers round their heads. The elders sat

on a bench or shelf, running round the entire building, and looked on

approvingly, while they consumed their own smoke, like the Tchuktchis,

by swallowing it, and getting partially intoxicated thereby. The women

brought in berries and fish in large ‘contogs,’ or wooden bowls.

“The performance commenced by the actors ranging themselves in a

square, and raising these dishes of provisions to the four cardinal

points successively, and once to the skies, with a sudden noise like

‘swish!’ or the flight of a rocket.

“Then came the feast; and that over, a monotonous chorus, with an

accompaniment of gongs, was started. The words of the song commenced,

‘Yung i ya, i ya, i ya!’ and continued throughout, ‘Yung i ya!’ Then

a boy sprang out on the floor; he was joined by a second, then a

third, till a circle of twenty was formed. Now they appeared violently

attracted together, and now as much repelled; now they were horrified

at one another’s conduct, and held up their arms in warning gestures,

and again all were friends and made pantomime of their happiness. In

this performance there was nearly as much done by arms and bodies, as

with feet. When there was a lull in the entertainment, small presents

were given to all the strangers invited.”

The Malemutes and Kaveaks, though intermingling, and having similar

habits, manners, and customs, yet speak different dialects and inhabit

different parts of the territory. They are considered as superior to

the other Indian tribes of that region. The Malemute chief “Aleuyanuk,”

whom Mr. Whymper saw, “was a fine-looking old man, erect and soldierly,

and, wearing a mustache and imperial, his manners would not have

disgraced a civilized assembly.”

INGELETES.

The Ingeletes speak a dialect entirely different from that of the

Malemutes,--one nearly allied to the Co-yukon. They are a stout,

noble-looking race, good-natured, and having considerable intelligence.

Polygamy, though allowed, is not very common, and marriage is a

permanent relation, except occasionally, when the wife is barren or

has too many daughters. Female children not being prized so highly as

sons, in such instances the wife is sometimes dismissed. They live

in underground houses, such as have been described, and in mild, wet

weather, the passage-way is nothing but a sewer. The entrance being

covered with a skin, the mixture of foul smells inside, arising from

stale fish and meat, old skins, dogs, dirt and smoke, is sickening

and unendurable by any but an Indian. Mr. Whymper testifies to the

good temper of the children and the honesty of the people. “At their

villages our goods lay unguarded in our absence, and I cannot recall

a single case of proved dishonesty among them, although we found them

becoming more greedy in their demands for payment.”

THE CO-YUKONS.

The Co-yukons are an interior tribe, and the largest on the Yukon,

which is the great river of the north, being 2,000 miles long, and

navigable 1,000 miles. They may be found on the banks of the Co-yukuk,

and other interior rivers. These Indians resemble the Ingeletes,

already mentioned, but have a more ferocious countenance. Their dress

is a double-tailed coat, one tail before, the other behind, and this

style, with some modifications, prevails for a thousand miles on the

Yukon.

The dress of the women is cut more squarely, and they wear an ornament

of Hy-a-qua shells on the nose, which runs through a hole made in the

cartilage between the nostrils. It is a singular fact that higher up

the river it is the men only who wear this ornament.

Among these tribes the period of mourning for the dead is one year,

the women during this time often gathering to talk and cry over the

deceased. At the end of the year, they have a feast or “wake,” which

is generally a queer compound of jollity and grief. One such scene,

to commemorate the death of a child, was witnessed by Mr. Whymper at

Nulato. “The poor old mother and some of her friends wept bitterly,

while the guests were gayly dancing round a painted pole, on which

strings of beads and some magnificent wolf skins were hung. They kept

up singing and dancing to a fashionable hour of the morning, and one

little savage, who had been shouting at the top of his lungs for hours,

got up the next day without any voice at all, a case of righteous

retribution. The decorations of the pole were divided among those who

took part in the ‘wake.’”

Their method of disposing of the dead is not interment, but enclosure

in oblong boxes, raised on posts. These are sometimes ornamented with

strips of skin, and the possessions of the deceased, as the canoe,

paddles, &c., are placed on the top of the box. Smaller articles are

placed within the box. This four-post coffin is a custom also among the

coast tribes already described. The women are quite prepossessing in

appearance, are affectionate toward their children, and especially fond

of their first-born. They are good-natured and playful, snowballing

and rolling each other in the snow, sliding down hill on sledges or

snow-shoes, with the enthusiasm of children.

There are other tribes, the names of which need only be mentioned,

viz: the Kotch-a-Kutchins (or lowland people), the Au Kutchins,

the Tatauchok Kutchins, Birch River and Rat River Indians. The

Zanana Indians (or knoll people), Mr. Whymper thinks are the most

unsophisticated of all the Indian tribes of the present day. Those he

saw “were gay with painted faces, feathers in their long hair, patches

of red clay at the back of their heads, covered with small fluffy

feathers, double-tailed coats and pantaloons of buckskin, much adorned

with fringes and beads, and elaborately worked fire-bags and belts.”

Many of them, as in other Indian tribes, wore through the nose the

Hy-a-qua shell as an ornament. The women of the upper tribes wear less

ornament than the men, and are compelled to do more drudgery than

those of the lower Yukon and coast of Alaska.

Among the coast tribes, and especially on the Yukon, there is, to some

extent, a community of goods, the industrious hunter supplying the

village crowd. This is a custom so much practised that the hunter gets

no praise for his service. Some of the chiefs maintain their position

by frequent distributions of their effects, and the game which they,

being good hunters, have been able to take. “These chiefs are often

the worst clothed and worst fed of all the tribe. Such generosity is

expected as a matter of course. No man, woman, or child among them goes

unfed, unhoused, or unwarmed, if there be food, dwelling, or fire in

the settlement.”

Among the tribes of Alaska, a system of slavery exists that can hardly

be surpassed for barbarism. They all buy and sell slaves. “Parents will

sell their children for three or four blankets or a few dollars, and

have no compunction of conscience for the use they may be put to in

the future. When one tribe goes to war with another, all the prisoners

taken by either tribe are called and used as slaves. When a chief or

any of his family dies, it is the custom to kill one or more of these

slaves, so that the chief or his deceased relative may have a servant

in the other world to wait on him. In 1868 an old chief of the Sitka

tribe died, and a few days before his death, when his relatives were

satisfied that he could live but a short time, they selected as a

victim for sacrifice a young, healthy, good-looking warrior, whom the

Sitka tribe had taken prisoner while at war with one of the tribes down

near Queen Charlotte’s Sound. The slave had been tied up two days about

the time the old chief died, and by some means some of his friends were

apprised of his condition, and immediately notified Gen. Davis that the

Indian slave was liable to be killed at any moment. Gen. Davis had one

of the chiefs brought before him, and after a long conversation about

the foolishness of such sacrifices, he agreed to let the slave go free;

and lest they might attempt to put into execution their original idea

of killing him, the General permitted the Indian to remain in the city,

where he would be protected.

“Recently one of the chiefs tried hard to get hold of a half-breed,

named Evanoff, to sacrifice him. For the two preceding weeks this chief

would go up every day to Gen. Davis, stating that he had a slave in

the city, and wanting to know if he could not get him into Indiantown.

The General, supposing the chief wanted one of his Indians, told him

to go and get him, but it was not until the day in question that the

effort was made to get this man. It seems that Evanoff’s mother was

an Indian woman, but his father was a Russian, and when he was but

three years of age a lady named Bengeman adopted and brought him up.

The chief who claimed him had a child that was expected to die, and

afterward did die. Having no slave but his claim on Evanoff, he made

this effort to sacrifice him that he might be a servant for his child

in the spirit world. When the general saw whom the chief claimed, in

a very few well-timed words he taught him and several of his warriors

more about civilization than ever they knew before. He asked the chief

what he wanted with this man. Pointing to Evanoff, the Indian told him

his child was sick, and he only wanted him for three hours, and then

he would let him go free. The General told him that the best thing

he could do was to look on Evanoff as a free man already, and warned

the Indian if in the future he should ever attempt to trouble Evanoff

again, he would put him in the guard-house and keep him there. The

Indian went off well pleased, and stated that he would be a good Indian

thereafter.

“The slaves are put to death as follows. As soon as a chief dies, the

slave is compelled to wash the body of the corpse; and is then taken

out and thrown flat on his back and held there, when a stick of wood is

placed across his throat, and two Indians sit down on each end of it,

and in this way strangle him to death. His body is then placed inside

a large pile of wood and burned to ashes. It is customary when a big

chief dies to put to death two or more slaves. All slaves taken in war

have to act as servants for the chiefs who own them.”--(_Sitka Times of

Nov. 27, 1869._)

The Indian population of the whole territory of Alaska is estimated at

about 30,000. They are peaceful and quite capable, learning quickly,

and exhibiting considerable skill in their utensils and weapons.

CHAPTER CXLVI.

SIBERIA.

THE TCHUKTCHI--JAKUTS--TUNGUSI.

HOME OF THE TCHUKTCHI -- INDEPENDENCE -- DISTRICT OF THE RUSSIANS --

CARAVANS -- INTOXICATION BY TOBACCO -- FAIR OF OSTROWNOJE -- GRAVITY

OF THE TCHUKTCHI -- THEIR TENT -- MADAME LEÜTT -- HOSPITALITY --

SHAMANISM -- HUMAN SACRIFICE -- POLYGAMY -- MURDER OF THE AGED --

JAKUTS -- THEIR ENDURANCE -- RESERVE -- SUPERSTITION -- THE TUNGUSI

-- DIFFERENT TRIBES -- CANNIBALISM -- ORNAMENTS -- BRAVERY -- DIET --

SHAMANISM -- DISPOSAL OF THE DEAD -- A NIGHT’S HALT WITH THE TUNGUSI

IN THE FOREST -- SPORTS -- FAIRS.

Crossing Behring’s Straits into Asia, we find in Northern Siberia

several peoples whose condition and character bring them within the

scope of this work.