Dixon Entrance belongs to British Columbia, but the boundary crosses its
northern waters about three miles above Whitby Point on Dundas Island,
and the steamer approaches Revilla-Gigedo Island. It is twenty-five by
fifty miles, and was named by Vancouver in honor of the Viceroy of New
Spain, who sent out several of the most successful expeditions. It is
pooled by many bits of turquoise water which can scarcely be dignified
by the name of lakes.
Carroll Inlet cleaves it half in twain. The exquisite gorges and
mountains of this island are coming to their own very slowly, as
compared with its attractions from a commercial point of view.
The island is in the centre of a rich salmon district, and during the
"running" season the clear blue waters flash underneath with the
glistening silver of the struggling fish. In some of the fresh-water
streams where the hump-backed salmon spawn, the fortunate tourist may
literally make true the frequent Western assertion that at certain times
"one can walk across on the solid silver bridge made by the salmon"--so
tightly are they wedged together in their desperate and pathetic
struggles to reach the spawning-ground.
Vancouver found these "hunch-backs," as he called them, not to his
liking,--probably on account of finding them at the spawning season.
Leaving Ketchikan, Revilla and Point Higgins are passed to
starboard--Higgins being another of Vancouver's choice namings for the
president of Chile.
"Did you ever see such a cluttering up of a landscape with odds and ends
of names?" said the pilot one day. "And all the ugliest by Vancouver.
Give _me_ an Indian name every time. It always means something. Take
this Revilly-Gig Island; the Indians called it 'Na-a,' meaning 'the far
lakes,' for all the little lakes scattered around. I don't know as we're
doing much better in our own day, though," he added, staring ahead with
a twinkle in his eyes. "They've just named a couple of mountains _Mount
Thomas Whitten_ and _Mount Shoup_! Now those names are all right for
men--even congressmen--but they're not worth shucks for mountains. Why,
the Russians could do better! Take Mount St. Elias--named by Behring
because he discovered it on St. Elias' day. I actually tremble every
time I pass that mountain, for fear I'll look up and see a sign tacked
on it, stating that the name has been changed to Baker or Bacon or
Mudge, so that Vancouver's bones will rest more easily in the grave. Now
look at that point! It's pretty enough in itself; but--_Higgins!_"
The next feature of interest, however, proved to be blessed with a name
sweet enough to take away the bitterness of many others--Clover Pass. It
was not named for this most fragrant and dear of all flowers, but for
Lieutenant, now Rear-Admiral, Clover, of the United States Navy.
Beyond Clover Pass, at the entrance to Naha Bay, is Loring, a large and
important cannery settlement of the Alaska Packers' Association. There
is only one salmon-canning establishment in Alaska, or even on the
Northwest Coast, more picturesquely situated than this, and it is nearly
two thousand miles "to Westward," at the mouth of the famed Karluk
River, where the same company maintains large canneries and successful
hatcheries. It will be described in another chapter.
A trail leads from Loring through the woods to Dorr Waterfall, in a
lovely glen. In Naha Bay thousands of fish are taken at every dip of the
seine in the narrowest cove, which is connected with a chain of small
lakes linked by the tiniest of streams. In summer these waters seem to
be of living silver, so thickly are they swarmed with darting and
curving salmon.
Not far from Naha Bay is Traitor's Cove, where Vancouver and his men
were attacked in boats by savages in the masks of animals, headed by an
old hag who commanded and urged them to bloodthirsty deeds.
This vixen seemed to be a personage of prestige and influence, judging
both by the immense size of her lip ornament and her air of command. She
seized the lead line from Vancouver's boat and made it fast to her own
canoe, while another stole a musket.
Vancouver, advancing to parley with the chief, made the mistake of
carrying his musket; whereupon about fifty savages leaped at him, armed
with spears and daggers.
The chief gave him to understand by signs that they would lay down their
arms if he would set the example; but the terrible old woman, scenting
peace and scorning it, violently and turbulently harangued the tribe and
urged it to attack.
The brandishing of spears and the flourishing of daggers became so
uncomfortably close and insistent, that Vancouver finally overcame his
"humanity," and fired into the canoes.
The effect was electrical. The Indians in the small canoes instantly
leaped into the water and swam for the shore; those in the larger ones
tipped the canoes to one side, so that the higher side shielded them
while they made the best of their way to the shore.
There they ascended the rocky cliffs and stoned the boats. Several of
Vancouver's men were severely wounded, one having been speared
completely through the thigh.
The point at the northern entrance to Naha Bay, where they landed to
dress wounds and take account of stock not stolen, was named Escape
Point; a name which it still retains.
Kasa-an Bay is an inlet pushing fifteen miles into the eastern coast of
Prince of Wales Island, which is two hundred miles in length and
averages forty in width. Cholmondeley Sound penetrates almost as far,
and Moira Sound, Niblack Anchorage on North Arm, Twelve Mile Arm, and
Skowl Arm, are all storied and lovely inlets. Skowl was an old chief of
the Eagle Clan, whose sway was questioned by none. He was the greatest
chief of his time, and ruled his people as autocratically as the lordly,
but blustering, Baranoff ruled his at Sitka. Skowl repulsed the advances
of missionaries and scorned all attempts at Christianizing himself and
his tribe. His was a powerful personality which is still mentioned with
a respect not unmixed with awe. To say that a chief is as fearless as
Skowl is a fine compliment, indeed, and one not often bestowed.
Although not on the regular run of steamers, Howkan, now a Presbyterian
missionary village on Cordova Bay, on the southwestern part of Prince of
Wales Island, must not be entirely neglected. In early days the village
was a forest of totems, and the graves were almost as interesting as the
totems. Both are rapidly vanishing and losing their most picturesque
features before the march of civilization and Christianity; but Howkan
is still one of the show-places of Alaska. The tourist who is able to
make this side trip on one of the small steamers that run past there, is
the envy of the unfortunate ones who are compelled to forego that
pleasure.
[Illustration: Copyright by E. A. Hegg, Juneau
STEEL CANTILEVER BRIDGE, NEAR SUMMIT OF WHITE PASS]
Totemism is the poetry of the Indian--or would be if it possessed any
religious significance.
I once asked an educated Tsimpsian Indian what the Metlakahtla people
believed,--meaning the belief that Mr. Duncan had taught them. He put
the tips of his fingers together, and with an expression of great
earnestness, replied:--
"They believed in a great Spirit, to whom they prayed and whom they
worshipped everywhere, believing that this beautiful Spirit was
everywhere and could hear. They worshipped it in the forest, in the
trees, in the flowers, in the sun and wind, in the blades of
grass,--alone and far from every one,--in the running water and the
still lakes."
"Oh, how beautiful!" I said, in all sincerity. "It must be the same as
my own belief; only I never heard it put into words before. And that is
what Mr. Duncan has taught them?"
He turned and looked at me squarely and steadily. It was a look of
weariness, of disgust.
"Oh, no," he replied, coldly; "that was what they believed before they
knew better; before they were taught the truth; before Christianity was
explained to them. That is what they believed _while they were
savages_!"
We were in the library of the _Jefferson_. The room is always warm, and
at that moment it was warmer than I had ever known it to be. Under the
steady gaze of those shining dark eyes it presently became too warm to
be endured. With my curiosity quite satisfied, I withdrew to the
hurricane deck, where there is always air.
Of the Indians in the territory of Alaska there are two stocks--the
Thlinkits, or Coast Indians, and the Tinneh, or those inhabiting the
vast regions of the interior. The Thlinkits comprise the Tsimpsians, or
Chimsyans, the Kygani, or Haidahs, the true Thlinkits, or Koloshes, and
the Yakutats.
The Kygani, or Haidah, Indians inhabit the Queen Charlotte Archipelago,
which, although belonging to British Columbia, must be taken into
consideration in any description of the Indians of Alaska. They were
formerly a warlike, powerful, and treacherous race, making frequent
attacks upon neighboring tribes, even as far south as Puget Sound. They
are noted, not only for these savage qualities, but also for the grace
and beauty of their canoes and for their delicate and artistic carvings.
Their small totems, pipes, and other articles carved out of a dark gray,
highly polished slate stone obtained on their own islands, sometimes
inlaid with particles of shell, are well known and command fancy prices.
Haidah basketry and hats are of unusual beauty and workmanship. The
peculiar ornamentation is painted upon the hats and not woven in. The
designs which are most frequently seen are the head, wings, tail, and
feet of a duck,--certain details somewhat resembling a large
oyster-shell, or a human ear,--painted in black and rich reds. The hats
are usually in the plain twined weaving, and of such fine, even
workmanship that they are entirely waterproof. The Haidahs formerly wore
the nose- and ear-rings, or other ornaments, and the labret in the lower
lip.
The Thlinkits,--or Koloshians, as the Russians and Aleuts called them,
from their habit of wearing the labret,--are divided into two tribes,
the Stikines and the Sitkans; the former inhabiting the mainland in the
vicinity of the Stikine River, straggling north and south for some
distance along the coast.
The Sitkans dwell in the neighborhood of Sitka and on the near-by
islands. They are among the tribes of Indians who gave Baranoff much
trouble. They formerly painted with vermilion or lamp-black mixed with
oil, traced on their faces in startling patterns. At the present time
they dress almost like white people, except for the everlasting blanket
on the older ones. Some of the younger women are very handsome--clean,
light-brown of skin, red-cheeked, of good figure, and having large, dark
eyes, at once soft and bright. They also have good, white teeth, and are
decidedly attractive in their coquettish and saucy airs and graces. The
young Indian women at Sitka, Yakutat, and Dundas are the prettiest and
the most attractive in Alaska; nor have I seen any in the Klondike, or
along the Yukon, to equal them in appearance. Also, one can barter with
them for their fascinating wares without praying to heaven to be
deprived of the sense of smell for a sufficient number of hours.
Among the Thlinkits, as well as among many of the Innuit, or Eskimo
tribes, the strange and cruel custom prevails of isolating young girls
approaching puberty in a hut set aside for this purpose. The period of
isolation varies from a month to a year, during which they are
considered unclean and are allowed only liquid food, which soon reduces
them to a state of painful emaciation. No one is permitted to minister
to their needs but a mother or a female slave, and they cannot hold
conversation with any one.
When a maiden finally emerges from her confinement there is great
rejoicing, if she be of good family, and feasting. A charm of peculiar
design is hung around her neck, called a "Virgin Charm," or "Virtue
Charm," which silently announces that she is "clean" and of marriageable
age. Formerly, according to Dall and other authorities, the lower lip
was pierced and a silver pin shaped like a nail inserted. This made the
same announcement.
The chief diet of the Thlinkit is fish, fresh or smoked. Unlike the
Aleutians, they do not eat whale blubber, as the whale figures in their
totems, but are fond of the porpoise and seal. The women are fond of
dress, and a voyager who will take a gay last year's useless hat along
in her steamer trunk, will be sure to "swap" it for a handsome Indian
basket. In many places they still employ their early methods of
fishing--raking herring and salmon out of the streams, during a run,
with long poles into which nails are driven, like a rake.
They are fond of game of all kinds. They weave blankets out of the wool
of the mountain sheep. Large spoons, whose handles are carved in the
form and designs of totems, are made out of the horns of sheep and
goats.
The Thlinkits are divided into four totems--the whale, the eagle, the
raven, and the wolf. The raven, which by the Tinnehs is considered an
evil bird, is held in the highest respect by the Thlinkits, who believe
it to be a good spirit.
Totemism is defined as the system of dividing a tribe into clans
according to their totems. It comprises a class of objects which the
savage holds in superstitious awe and respect, believing that it holds
some relation to, and protection over, himself. There is the clan totem,
common to a whole clan; the sex totem, common to the males or females of
a clan; and the individual totem, belonging solely to one person and not
descending to any member of the next generation. It is generally
believed that the totem has some special religious significance; but
this is not true, if we are to believe that the younger and educated
Indians of to-day know what totemism means. Some totems are veritable
family trees. The clan totem is reverenced by a whole clan, the members
of which are known by the name of their totem, and believe themselves to
be descended from a common animal ancestor, and bound together by ties
closer and more sacred than those of blood.
[Illustration: Copyright by E. A. Hegg, Juneau
Courtesy of Webster & Stevens, Seattle
OLD RUSSIAN BUILDING, SITKA]
The system of totemism is old; but the word itself, according to J. G.
Frazer, first appeared in literature in the nineteenth century, being
introduced from an Ojibway word by J. Long, an interpreter. The same
authority claims that it had a religious aspect; but this is denied, so
far, at least, as the Thlinkits are concerned.
The Eagle clan believe themselves to be descended from an eagle, which
they, accordingly, reverence and protect from harm or death, believing
that it is a beneficent spirit that watches over them.
Persons of the same totem may neither marry nor have sexual intercourse
with each other. In Australia the usual penalty for the breaking of this
law was death. With the Thlinkits, a man might marry a woman of any save
his own totem clan. The raven represented woman, and the wolf, man. A
young man selected his individual totem from the animal which appeared
most frequently and significantly in his dreams during his lonely fast
and vigil in the heart of the forest for some time before reaching the
state of puberty. The animals representing a man's different
totems--clan, family, sex, and individual--were carved and painted on
his tall totem-pole, his house, his paddles, and other objects; they
were also woven into hats, basketry, and blankets, and embroidered upon
moccasins with beads. Some of the Haidah canoes have most beautifully
carven and painted prows, with the totem design appearing. These canoes
are far superior to those of Puget Sound. The very sweep of the prow,
strong and graceful, as it cleaves the golden air above the water,
proclaims its northern home. Their well-known outlines, the erect, rigid
figures of the warriors kneeling in them, and the strong, swift, sure
dip of the paddles, sent dread to the hearts of the Puget Sound Indians
and the few white settlers in the early part of the last century. The
cry of "Northern Indians!" never failed to create a panic. They made
many marauding expeditions to the south in their large and splendid
canoes. The inferior tribes of the sound held them in the greatest fear
and awe.
A child usually adopts the mother's totem, and at birth receives a name
significant of her family. Later on he receives one from his father's
family, and this event is always attended with much solemnity and
ceremony.
A man takes wives in proportion to his wealth. If he be the possessor of
many blankets, he takes trouble unto himself by the dozen. There are no
spring bonnets, however, to buy. They do not indulge themselves with so
many wives as formerly; nor do they place such implicit faith in the
totem, now that they are becoming "Christianized."
Dall gives the following interesting description of a Thlinkit wedding
ceremony thirty years ago: A lover sends to his mistress's relations,
asking for her as a wife. If he receives a favorable reply, he sends as
many presents as he can get together to her father. On the appointed day
he goes to the house where she lives, and sits down with his back to the
door.
The father has invited all the relations, who now raise a song, to
allure the coy bride out of the corner where she has been sitting. When
the song is done, furs or pieces of new calico are laid on the floor,
and she walks over them and sits down by the side of the groom. All this
time she must keep her head bowed down. Then all the guests dance and
sing, diversifying the entertainment, when tired, by eating. The pair do
not join in any of the ceremonies. That their future life may be happy,
they fast for two days more. Four weeks afterward they come together,
and are then recognized as husband and wife.
The bridegroom is free to live with his father-in-law, or return to his
own home. If he chooses the latter the bride receives a _trousseau_
equal in value to the gifts received by her parents from her husband. If
the husband becomes dissatisfied with his wife, he can send her back
with her dowry, but loses his own gifts. If a wife is unfaithful he may
send her back with nothing, and demand his own again. They may separate
by mutual consent without returning any property. When the marriage
festival is over, the silver pin is removed from the lower lip of the
bride and replaced by a plug, shaped like a spool, but not over
three-quarters of an inch long, and this plug is afterward replaced by a
larger one of wood, bone, or stone, so that an old woman may have an
ornament of this kind two inches in diameter. These large ones are of an
oval shape, but scooped out above, below, and around the edge, like a
pulley-wheel. When very large, a mere strip of flesh goes around the
_kalushka_, or "little trough." From the name which the Aleuts gave the
appendage when they first visited Sitka, the nickname "Kolosh" has
arisen, and has been applied to this and allied tribes.
Many years ago, when a man died, his brother or his sister's son was
compelled to marry the widow.
That seems worth while. Naturally, the man would not desire the woman,
and the woman would not desire the man; therefore, the result of the
forced union might prove full of delightful surprises. If such a law
could have been passed in England, there would have been no occasion for
the prolonged agitation over the "Deceased wife's sister" bill, which
dragged its weary way through the courts and the papers. Nobody would
desire to marry his deceased wife's sister; or, if he did, she would
decline the honor.
An ancient Thlinkit superstition is, that once a man--a Thlinkit, of
course--had a young wife whom he so idolized that he would not permit
her to work. This is certainly the most convincing proof that an Indian
could give of his devotion. From morning to night she dwelt in sweet
idleness, guarded by eight little redbirds, that flew about her when she
walked, or hovered over her when she reclined upon her furs or
preciously woven blankets.
These little birds were good spirits, of course, but alas! they
resembled somewhat women who are so good that out of their very goodness
evil is wrought. In the town in which I dwell there is a good woman, a
member of a church, devout, and scorning sin, who keeps "roomers." On
two or three occasions this good woman has found letters which belonged
to her roomers, and she has done what an honorable woman would not do.
She has read letters that she had no right to read, and she has found
therein secrets that would wreck families and bow down heads in sorrow
to their graves; and yet, out of her goodness, she has felt it to be her
duty "to tell," and she has told.
Since knowing the story of the eight little Thlinkit redbirds, I have
never seen this woman without a red mist seeming to float round her; her
mouth becomes a twittering beak, her feet are claws that carry her
noiselessly into secret places, her eyes are little black beads that
flash from side to side in search of other people's sins, and her
shoulders are folded wings. For what did the little good redbirds do but
go and tell the Thlinkit man that his young and pretty and idolized wife
had spoken to another man. He took her out into the forest and shut her
up in a box. Then he killed all his sister's children because they knew
his secret. His sister went in lamentations to the beach, where she was
seen by her totem whale, who, when her cause of grief was made known to
him, bade her be of good cheer.
"Swallow a small stone," said the whale, "which you must pick up from
the beach, drinking some sea-water at the same time."
The woman did as the whale directed. In a few months she gave birth to a
son, whom she was compelled to hide from her brother. This child was
Yehl (the raven), the beneficent spirit of the Thlinkits, maker of
forests, mountains, rivers, and seas; the one who guides the sun, moon,
and stars, and controls the winds and floods. His abiding-place is at
the head waters of the Nass River, whence the Thlinkits came to their
present home. When he grew up he became so expert in the use of the bow
and arrow that it is told of his mother that she went clad in the rose,
green, and lavender glory of the breasts of humming-birds which he had
killed in such numbers that she was able to fashion her entire raiment
of their most exquisite parts,--as befitted the mother of the good
spirit of men.
Yehl performed many noble and miraculous deeds, the most dazzling of
which was the giving of light to the world. He had heard that a rich old
chief kept the sun, moon, and stars in boxes, carefully locked and
guarded. This chief had an only daughter whom he worshipped. He would
allow no one to make love to her, so Yehl, perceiving that only a
descendant of the old man could secure access to the boxes, and knowing
that the chief examined all his daughter's food before she ate it, and
that it would therefore avail him nothing to turn himself into ordinary
food, conceived the idea of converting himself into a fragrant grass and
by springing up persistently in the maiden's path, he was one day eaten
and swallowed. A grandson was then born to the old chief, who wrought
upon his affections--as grandsons have a way of doing--to such an extent
that he could deny him nothing.
One day the young Yehl, who seems to have been appropriately named, set
up a lamentation for the boxes he desired and continued it until one was
in his possession. He took it out-doors and opened it. Millions of
little milk-white, opaline birds instantly flew up and settled in the
sky. They were followed by a large, silvery bird, which was so heavy and
uncertain in her flight to the sky that, although she finally reached
it, she never appeared twice the same thereafter, and on some nights
could not be seen at all. The old chief was very angry, and it was not
until Yehl had wept and fasted himself to death's very door that he
obtained the sun; whereupon, he changed himself back into a raven, and
flying away from the reach of his stunned and temporary grandfather, who
had commanded him not to open the box, he straightway lifted the
lid--and the world was flooded with light.
One of the most interesting of the Thlinkit myths is the one of the
spirits that guard and obey the shamans. The most important are those
dwelling in the North. They were warriors; hence, an unusual display of
the northern lights was considered an omen of approaching war. The other
spirits are of people who died a commonplace death; and the greatest
care must be exercised by relatives in mourning for these, or they will
have difficulty in reaching their new abode. Too many tears are as bad
as none at all; the former mistake mires and gutters the path, the
latter leaves it too deep in dust. A decent and comfortable quantity
makes it hard and even and pleasant.
Their deluge myth is startling in its resemblance to ours. When their
flood came upon them, a few were saved in a great canoe which was made
of cedar. This wood splits rather easily, parallel to its grain, under
stress of storm, and the one in which the people embarked split after
much buffeting. The Thlinkits clung to one part, and all other peoples
to the other part, creating a difference in language. Chet'l, the eagle,
was separated from his sister, to whom he said, "You may never see me
again, but you shall hear my voice forever." He changed himself into a
bird of tremendous size and flew away southward. The sister climbed
Mount Edgecumbe, which opened and swallowed her, leaving a hole that has
remained ever since. Earthquakes are caused by her struggles with bad
spirits which seek to drive her away, and by her invariable triumph over
them she sustains the poise of the world.
Chet'l returned to Mount Edgecumbe, where he still lives. When he comes
forth, which is but seldom, the flapping of his great wings produces the
sound which is called thunder. He is, therefore, known everywhere as the
Thunder-bird. The glance of his brilliant eyes is the lightning.
Concerning the totem-pole which was taken from an Indian village on
Tongas Island, near Ketchikan, by members of the _Post-Intelligencer_
business men's excursion to Alaska in 1899--and for which the city of
Seattle was legally compelled to pay handsomely afterward--the following
letter from a member of the family originally owning the totem is of
quaint interest:--
"I have received your letter, and I am going to tell you the
story of the totem-pole. Now, the top one is a crow himself,
and the next one from the pole top is a man. That crow have
told him a story. Crow have told him a good-looking woman
want to married some man. So he did marry her. She was a
frog. And the fourth one is a mink. One time, the story
says, that one time it was a high tide for some time, and so
crow got marry to mink, so crow he eats any kind of fishes
from the water. After some time crow got tired of mink, and
he leave her, and he get married to that whale-killer, and
then crow he have all he want to eat. That last one on the
totem-pole is the father of the crow. The story says that
one time it got dark for a long while. The darkness was all
over the world, and only crow's father was the only one can
give light to the world. He simply got a key. He keeps the
sun and moon in a chest, that one time crow have ask his
father if he play with the sun and moon in the house but,
was not allowed, so he start crying for many days until he
was sick. So his father let him play with it and he have it
for many days. And one day he let the moon in the sky by
mistake, but he keep the sun, and he which take time before
he could get his chances to go outside of the house. As soon
as he was out he let sun back to the sky again, and it was
light all over the world again. (End of story.)
"Yours respectfully,
"David E. Kinninnook.
"P.S. The Indians have a long story, and one of the chiefs
of a village or of a tribe only a chief can put up so many
carvings on our totem-pole, and he have to fully know the
story of what totem he is made. I may give you the whole
story of it sometimes. Crow on top have a quart moon in his
mouth, because he have ask his father for a light.
"D. E. K.
"If you can put this story on the _Post-Intelligencer_, of
Seattle, Wash., and I think the people will be glad to know
some of it."
The Thlinkits burned their dead, with the exception of the shamans, but
carefully preserved the ashes and all charred bones from the funeral
pyre. These were carefully folded in new blankets and buried in the
backs of totems. One totem, when taken down to send to the Lewis and
Clark Exposition, was found to contain the remains of a child in the
butt-end of the pole which was in the ground; the portion containing the
child being sawed off and reinterred.
[Illustration: Copyright by E. A. Hegg, Juneau
GREEK-RUSSIAN CHURCH AT SITKA]
A totem-pole donated to the exposition by Yannate, a very old Thlinkit,
was made by his own hands in honor of his mother. His mother belonged to
the Raven Clan, and a large raven is at the crest of the pole; under it
is the brown bear--the totem of the Kokwonton Tribe, to which the
woman's husband belonged; underneath the bear is an Indian with a cane,
representing the woman's brother, who was a noted shaman or sorcerer
many years ago; at the bottom are two faces, or masks, representing the
shaman's favorite slaves.
The Haidahs did not burn their dead, but buried them, usually in the
butts of great cedars. Frequently, however, they were buried at the base
of totem-poles, and when in recent years poles have been removed,
remains have been found and reinterred.
On the backs of some of the old totem-poles at Wrangell and other
places, may be seen the openings that were made to receive the ashes of
the dead, the portion that had been sawed out being afterward replaced.
The wealth of a Thlinkit is estimated according to his number of
blankets; his honor and importance by the number of potlatches he has
given. Every member of his totem is called upon to contribute to the
potlatch of the chief, working to that end, and "skimping" himself in
his own indulgences for that object, for many years, if necessary. The
potlatch is given at the full of the moon; the chief's clan and totem
decline all gifts; it is not in good form for any member thereof to
accept the slightest gift. Guests are seated and treated according to
their rights, and the resentment of a slight is not postponed until the
banquet is over and the blood has cooled. An immediate fight to the
bitter end is the result; so that the greatest care is exercised in this
nice matter--which has proven a pitfall to many a white hostess in the
most civilized lands; so seldom does a guest have the right and the
honor to feel that where he sits is the head of the table. At these
potlatches a "frenzied" hospitality prevails; everything is bestowed
with a lavish and reckless hand upon the visitors, from food and drink
to the host's most precious possession, blankets. His wives are given
freely, and without the pang which must go with every blanket. Visitors
come and remain for days, or until the host is absolutely beggared and
has nothing more to give.
But since every one accepting his potlatch is not only expected, but
actually bound by tribal laws as fixed as the stars, to return it, the
beggared chief gradually "stocks up" again; and in a few years is able
to launch forth brilliantly once more. This is the same system of give
and take that prevails in polite society in the matter of party-giving.
With neither, may the custom be considered as real hospitality, but
simply a giving with the expectation of a sure return. Chiefs have
frequently, however, given away fortunes of many thousands of dollars
within a few days. These were chiefs who aspired to rise high above
their contemporaries in glory; and, therefore, would be disappointed to
have their generosity equally returned.
A shaman is a medicine-man who is popularly supposed to be possessed of
supernatural powers. A certain mystery, or mysticism, is connected with
him. He spends much time in the solitudes of the mountains, working
himself into a highly emotional mental state. The shaman has his special
masks, carved ivory diagnosis-sticks, and other paraphernalia. The hair
of the shaman was never cut; at his death, his body was not burned, but
was invariably placed in a box on four high posts. It first reposed for
one whole night in each of the four corners of the house in which he
died. On the fifth day it was laid to rest by the sea-shore; and every
time a Thlinkit passed it, he tossed a small offering into the water,
to secure the favor of the dead shaman, who, even in death, was
believed to exercise an influence over the living, for good or ill.
Slavery was common, as--until the coming of the Russians--was
cannibalism. The slaves were captives from other tribes. They were
forced to perform the most disagreeable duties, and were subjected to
cruel treatment, punished for trivial faults, and frequently tortured,
or offered in sacrifice. A few very old slaves are said to be in
existence at the present time; but they are now treated kindly, and have
almost forgotten that their condition is inferior to that of the
remainder of the tribe.
The most famous slaves on the Northwest Coast were John Jewitt and John
Thompson, sole survivors of the crew of the _Boston_, which was captured
in 1802 by the Indians of Nootka Sound, on the western coast of
Vancouver Island. The officers and all the other men were most foully
murdered, and the ship was burned.
Jewitt and Thompson were spared because one was an armorer and the other
a sailmaker. They were held as slaves for nearly three years, when they
made their escape.
Jewitt published a book, in which he simply and effectively described
many of the curious, cruel, and amusing customs of the people. The two
men finally made their escape upon a boat which had appeared
unexpectedly in the harbor.
* * * * *
The Yakutats belong to the Thlinkit stock, but have never worn the
"little trough," the distinguishing mark of the true Thlinkit. They
inhabit the country between Mount Fairweather and Mount St. Elias, and
were the cause of much trouble and disaster to Baranoff, Lisiansky, and
other early Russians. They have never adopted the totem; and may,
therefore, eat the flesh and blubber of the whale, which the Thlinkits
respect, because it figures on their totems. The graveyards of the
Yakutats are very picturesque and interesting.
The tribes of the Tinneh, or interior Indians, will be considered in
another chapter.
Behm Canal is narrow, abruptly shored, and offers many charming vistas
that unfold unexpectedly before the tourist's eyes. Alaskan steamers do
not enter it and, therefore, New Eddystone Rock is missed by many. This
is a rocky pillar that rises straight from the water, with a
circumference of about one hundred feet at the base and a height of from
two to three hundred feet. It is draped gracefully with mosses, ferns,
and vines. Vancouver breakfasted here, and named it for the famous
Eddystone Light of England. Unuk River empties its foaming, glacial
waters into Behm Canal.