There is one vice that is absolutely unknown to the red man; he
was born without it, and amongst all the deplorable things he
has learned from the white races, this, at least, he has never
acquired. That is the vice of avarice. That the Indian looks
upon greed of gain, miserliness, avariciousness, and wealth
accumulated above the head of his poorer neighbor as one of the
lowest degradations he can fall to is perhaps more aptly illustrated
than anything I could quote to demonstrate his horror of what
he calls "the white man's unkindness." In a very wide and
varied experience with many tribes, I have yet to find even one
instance of avarice, and I have encountered but one single case of a
"stingy Indian," and this man was so marked amongst his fellows that
at mention of his name his tribes-people jeered and would remark
contemptuously that he was like a white man--hated to share his
money and his possessions. All red races are born Socialists,
and most tribes carry out their communistic ideas to the letter.
Amongst the Iroquois it is considered disgraceful to have food if
your neighbor has none. To be a creditable member of the nation
you must divide your possessions with your less fortunate fellows.
I find it much the same amongst the Coast Indians, though they are
less bitter in their hatred of the extremes of wealth and poverty
than are the Eastern tribes. Still, the very fact that they have
preserved this legend, in which they liken avarice to a slimy
sea-serpent, shows the trend of their ideas; shows, too, that an
Indian is an Indian, no matter what his tribe; shows that he cannot,
or will not, hoard money; shows that his native morals demand that
the spirit of greed must be strangled at all cost.
The chief and I had sat long over our luncheon. He had been talking
of his trip to England and of the many curious things he had seen.
At last, in an outburst of enthusiasm, he said: "I saw everything
in the world--everything but a sea-serpent!"
"But there is no such thing as a sea-serpent," I laughed, "so you
must have really seen everything in the world."
His face clouded; for a moment he sat in silence; then, looking
directly at me, said, "Maybe none now, but long ago there was one
here--in the Inlet."
"How long ago?" I asked.
"When first the white gold-hunters came," he replied. "Came with
greedy, clutching fingers, greedy eyes, greedy hearts. The white
men fought, murdered, starved, went mad with love of that gold far
up the Fraser River. Tillicums were tillicums no more, brothers
were foes, fathers and sons were enemies. Their love of the gold
was a curse."
"Was it then the sea-serpent was seen?" I asked, perplexed with the
problem of trying to connect the gold-seekers with such a monster.
"Yes, it was then, but----" he hesitated, then plunged into the
assertion, "but you will not believe the story if you think there
is no such thing as a sea-serpent."
"I shall believe whatever you tell me, Chief," I answered. "I am
only too ready to believe. You know I come of a superstitious race,
and all my association with the Palefaces has never yet robbed me
of my birthright to believe strange traditions."
"You always understand," he said after a pause.
"It's my heart that understands," I remarked quietly.
He glanced up quickly, and with one of his all too few radiant
smiles, he laughed.
"Yes, skookum tum-tum." Then without further hesitation he told
the tradition, which, although not of ancient happening, is held in
great reverence by his tribe. During its recital he sat with folded
arms, leaning on the table, his head and shoulders bending eagerly
towards me as I sat at the opposite side. It was the only time he
ever talked to me when he did not use emphasising gesticulations,
but his hands never once lifted: his wonderful eyes alone gave
expression to what he called "The Legend of the 'Salt-chuck Oluk'"
(sea-serpent).
"Yes, it was during the first gold craze, and many of our young men
went as guides to the whites far up the Fraser. When they returned
they brought these tales of greed and murder back with them, and
our old people and our women shook their heads and said evil would
come of it. But all our young men, except one, returned as they
went--kind to the poor, kind to those who were foodless, sharing
whatever they had with their tillicums. But one, by name Shak-shak
(The Hawk), came back with hoards of gold nuggets, chickimin
(money), everything; he was rich like the white men, and, like them,
he kept it. He would count his chickimin, count his nuggets, gloat
over them, toss them in his palms. He rested his head on them as
he slept, he packed them about with him through the day. He loved
them better than food, better than his tillicums, better than his
life. The entire tribe arose. They said Shak-shak had the disease
of greed; that to cure it he must give a great potlatch, divide his
riches with the poorer ones, share them with the old, the sick, the
foodless. But he jeered and laughed and told them No, and went on
loving and gloating over his gold.
"Then the Sagalie Tyee spoke out of the sky and said, 'Shak-shak,
you have made of yourself a loathsome thing; you will not listen to
the cry of the hungry, to the call of the old and sick; you will not
share your possessions; you have made of yourself an outcast from
your tribe and disobeyed the ancient laws of your people. Now I
will make of you a thing loathed and hated by all men, both white
and red. You will have two heads, for your greed has two mouths to
bite. One bites the poor, and one bites your own evil heart; and
the fangs in these mouths are poison--poison that kills the hungry,
and poison that kills your own manhood. Your evil heart will
beat in the very centre of your foul body, and he that pierces it
will kill the disease of greed forever from amongst his people.'
And when the sun arose above the North Arm the next morning the
tribes-people saw a gigantic sea-serpent stretched across the
surface of the waters. One hideous head rested on the bluffs at
Brockton Point, the other rested on a group of rocks just below
Mission, at the western edge of North Vancouver. If you care to go
there some day I will show you the hollow in one great stone where
that head lay. The tribes-people were stunned with horror. They
loathed the creature, they hated it, they feared it. Day after day
it lay there, its monstrous heads lifted out of the waters, its
mile-long body blocking all entrance from the Narrows, all outlet
from the North Arm. The chiefs made council, the medicine-men
danced and chanted, but the salt-chuck oluk never moved. It could
not move, for it was the hated totem of what now rules the white
man's world--greed and love of chickimin. No one can ever move the
love of chickimin from the white man's heart, no one can ever make
him divide all with the poor. But after the chiefs and medicine-men
had done all in their power, and still the salt-chuck oluk lay
across the waters, a handsome boy of sixteen approached them and
reminded them of the words of the Sagalie Tyee, 'that he that
pierced the monster's heart would kill the disease of greed forever
amongst his people.'
"'Let me try to find this evil heart, oh! great men of my tribe,' he
cried. 'Let me war upon this creature; let me try to rid my people
of this pestilence.'
"The boy was brave and very beautiful. His tribes-people called him
the Tenas Tyee (Little Chief) and they loved him. Of all his wealth
of fish and furs, of game and hykwa (large shell-money) he gave to
the boys who had none; he hunted food for the old people; he tanned
skins and furs for those whose feet were feeble, whose eyes were
fading, whose blood ran thin with age.
"'Let him go!' cried the tribes-people. 'This unclean monster can
only be overcome by cleanliness, this creature of greed can only
be overthrown by generosity. Let him go!' The chiefs and the
medicine-men listened, then consented. 'Go,' they commanded, 'and
fight this thing with your strongest weapons--cleanliness and
generosity.'
"The Tenas Tyee turned to his mother. 'I shall be gone four days,'
he told her, 'and I shall swim all that time. I have tried all my
life to be generous, but the people say I must be clean also to
fight this unclean thing. While I am gone put fresh furs on my bed
every day, even if I am not here to lie on them; if I know my bed,
my body and my heart are all clean I can overcome this serpent.'
"'Your bed shall have fresh furs every morning,' his mother
said simply.
"The Tenas Tyee then stripped himself, and, with no clothing save a
buckskin belt into which he thrust his hunting-knife, he flung his
lithe young body into the sea. But at the end of four days he did
not return. Sometimes his people could see him swimming far out in
mid-channel, endeavoring to find the exact centre of the serpent,
where lay its evil, selfish heart; but on the fifth morning they saw
him rise out of the sea, climb to the summit of Brockton Point, and
greet the rising sun with outstretched arms. Weeks and months went
by, still the Tenas Tyee would swim daily searching for that heart
of greed; and each morning the sunrise glinted on his slender young
copper-colored body as he stood with outstretched arms at the tip
of Brockton Point, greeting the coming day and then plunging from
the summit into the sea.
"And at his home on the north shore his mother dressed his bed with
fresh furs each morning. The seasons drifted by; winter followed
summer, summer followed winter. But it was four years before the
Tenas Tyee found the centre of the great salt-chuck oluk and plunged
his hunting-knife into its evil heart. In its death-agony it
writhed through the Narrows, leaving a trail of blackness on the
waters. Its huge body began to shrink, to shrivel; it became
dwarfed and withered, until nothing but the bones of its back
remained, and they, sea-bleached and lifeless, soon sank to the bed
of the ocean leagues off from the rim of land. But as the Tenas
Tyee swam homeward and his clean, young body crossed through the
black stain left by the serpent, the waters became clear and blue
and sparkling. He had overcome even the trail of the salt-chuck
oluk.
"When at last he stood in the doorway of his home he said, 'My
mother, I could not have killed the monster of greed amongst my
people had you not helped me by keeping one place for me at home
fresh and clean for my return.'
"She looked at him as only mothers look. 'Each day, these four
years, fresh furs have I laid for your bed. Sleep now, and rest,
oh! my Tenas Tyee,' she said."
* * * * *
The chief unfolded his arms, and his voice took another tone as he
said, "What do you call that story--a legend?"
"The white people would call it an allegory," I answered. He shook
his head.
"No savvy," he smiled.
I explained as simply as possible, and with his customary alertness
he immediately understood. "That's right," he said. "That's what
we say it means, we Squamish, that greed is evil and not clean,
like the salt-chuck oluk. That it must be stamped out amongst our
people, killed by cleanliness and generosity. The boy that overcame
the serpent was both these things."
"What became of this splendid boy?" I asked.
"The Tenas Tyee? Oh! some of our old, old people say they
sometimes see him now, standing on Brockton Point, his bare young
arms outstretched to the rising sun," he replied.
"Have you ever seen him, Chief?" I questioned.
"No," he answered simply. But I have never heard such poignant
regret as his wonderful voice crowded into that single word.