“AyâˊoQonᴀłgīˊc” (said to be Haida words meaning “Come and let us
gamble, Qonᴀłgīˊc”). He had made a shirt out of the sea otter and a
blanket out of the fur seal, so they were anxious to gamble in order to
win those things. When they first heard him speak of gambling they made
fun of him, thinking to beat him as before, and the same one who had
before won all of his goods sat down opposite. He was a fine gambler
and therefore very rich. When they started to play, the poor man began
to go through all kinds of performances, jumping up, running about, and
saying funny things to his opponent, so that the latter became confused
and could not do anything. The poor man began winning his goods, and,
when he got tobacco, he would treat the crowd about him with it.
Finally the poor man said, “That is enough. I am through,” but the rich
man answered, “Stay and let us gamble more,” thinking that he would
get all of his goods back. The poor man, however, said he was through
but would be willing to gamble with him the next day, and he left his
opponent sitting there feeling very badly. The same day, however, his
opponent went over to him again and again asked him to gamble. “Oh! let
us wait until to-morrow,” he said, and he spoke kindly to him. Finally
they began again. Whatever words the poor man used toward his opponent
at this time, people use at this day. By and by he said to the chief,
“Let us gamble for food next. I want to feed my people.” Then the rich
man was angry, sat down, and began gambling with him for food. Again
his opponent won everything and said, “That is enough. We have plenty
of time to gamble. We will gamble some other day.” So they stopped,
although the chief would have persevered, and the poor man invited all
of his friends in order to give them the food he had won.
Next day the chief again brought over his gambling sticks, and they
recommenced. Whenever the poor man saw that his luck was turning, he
would jump up, run around the circle of people, who were watching him
closely, run to a little creek near by, wash his hands very clean
and return to gamble. He did that over and over again while he was
gambling. Sometimes he would run off and chew upon a piece of dried
salmon. Then he could see the devilfish smoke much better. This
time they staked slaves, and he won quite a number, after which he
jumped up, saying that he had gambled enough. The chief begged him to
continue, but he said, “No, we have gambled long enough. I will gamble
every day with you if you desire, but this is enough for to-day.”
Next morning they gambled again. A big crowd always followed him to the
gambling place because the way he acted was new to them. He would jump
up, call certain of his lucky sticks by name and say, “Now you come
out.” Before he began gambling he mixed his sticks well together and
said, “The āsqǃancāˊdjî sticks will come out.” So they came out, flew
around and around his head and settled among the other sticks again. He
was the only one who could see them.
By this time the chief opposing him had become fairly crazy. He had
nothing left but his house, his sisters’ children, his wife, and
himself. He wanted to stake his sisters’ children, but his opponent
said that he would not gamble for people. Then the chief caught hold
of him and begged him, and his own friends came to him and said, “Why
don’t you gamble and win those friends of his? You are very foolish not
to.” “I do not want to gamble unless I can win something,” he said.
“What good will those people be to me? I can not do anything with them
after I win them.” “You will have the name of having won them. Remember
what he did to you. He did not have pity on you. When he won your
wife’s clothes did he give them back?” Then the poor man moved a piece
of painted moose hide, called ckǃutǃêˊ, around in front of the chief.
It made him very angry, but he dared not say anything. The chief lost
his nephews, his house, and his wife’s clothes and offered to stake his
wife, but his opponent refused until his cousin said, “Go on and get
everything he has. If you do not want them you can give them back.” So
he won his wife also. Then he put his gambling sticks away, refusing
to gamble for the chief himself, because he knew that there is always
trouble at the bottom of gambling. But his friends said, “If he is
foolish enough to stake himself and his wife, go on and gamble. After
a while he will feel it in his face (i. e., be ashamed).” So he played
once more and won his opponent also.
Then he said, “Since you have staked everything and I have won, I
suppose that this is all. Do you remember how you won everything from
me? You were very hard on me. You even won my wife’s clothing, and you
did not give me anything back. You left me in such a condition that I
could not do a thing to help myself and my wife. You know that I have
won you. You belong to me. You might be my slave, but I will not be
that hard upon you. I have won you and your wife, but I don’t want to
claim you. Take your wife also. She is yours and I don’t want to claim
her either.”
High-caste people did not become gamblers, because they always
remembered this saying. They always told their children that gambling
belonged to lower people and was not work for an honest person. On
account of what happened at that time a gambler will now get crazy over
the game, and think, when he is using the last money in his purse, “I
am going to win it back. I may win it back with the last cent I have.”
So he keeps on and on until he goes through with everything. The whole
town knows that he is going crazy over gambling, but he thinks that
he is doing the right thing. When a gambler wins a lot of things from
anyone nowadays, he remembers Qonᴀłgīˊc and gives some of them back. He
is not as hard on him as the chief was to the poor man.[96]
It is from Qonᴀłgīˊc also that the gambling sticks have different names
and that there are different kinds of nāqs and different sorts of
cīcts. These cīcts are lucky gambling sticks, but the lucky medicine
that a gambler obtains is also called cīct. In order to get it he has
to fast, remain away from his wife, and keep what he is doing secret.
At that time he wishes for whatever he desires. This medicine also
makes a person brave and is used when preparing for some important
action. The name cīct is said to have come from a wolf which had
something stuck between its teeth. When a certain man got this out, the
wolf said, “I will show you my cīct. I will tell you what it is.”
People who cheat have gambling sticks like birds that are able to fly
away, and they keep the names of these sticks to themselves.
It is since the time of this first gambler, too, that people have had
the custom of saying to a gambler, “Why don’t you give a feast with the
food you have won?”
Gamblers claim that when the sticks move in a certain way while they
are gambling, it means death in the family. If they keep the rules of
their cīct it will tell them what animal they are going to kill when
they are out hunting.
* * * * *
After the rich opponent of Qonᴀłgīˊc had lost all of his property,
his wife left him, and he went away from that town. He made a bow and
arrows and wandered about in the forest like a wild animal. Coming down
to the beach at a certain place, he found a fine bay and built his
house upon it. There he began to collect clams and fish which he dried
for himself. He was gone all winter, but in those times the Indians did
not care for foolish people, viewing them as though they were dead, so
his friends did not look for him.
While he lived in that place the chief heard a drum sounding from some
distant place, but he did not take the trouble to see what it was.
Finally he discovered that the noise was caused by a grouse and said
to it, “I see you now. I have been wondering what it was that I heard
so much.” Then he said to the grouse, “You are a great dancer, are you
not?” “Yes, I dance once in a while when I am lonely.” “Come along and
let us have a dance. I am pretty lonely myself.” So that evening he
saw all kinds of birds, which were the grouse’s friends, and they had
a dance. They danced so much that this man forgot all that he had been
grieving about and felt very happy. Therefore people always dance for
one who is mourning, to make him forget it. This is where the first
dance came from.
Then the chief said to the grouse, “How came you to know about
dancing?” “There is a person out on that island who knows a lot about
medicine. He knows how to make medicine for dancing and fighting.” “You
must let me see him,” said the man. The bird answered, “If you want
to see this great medicine-man you must fast to-morrow. This is the
great person who knows all about medicines.” Now, after the chief had
fasted, he went to sleep and dreamed that a man came to him, showed
him a certain leaf on the marsh and said, “Take that leaf and put it
into this sack. Then go down toward the beach. As soon as you get down
you will see an eagle lying there. Take off its claws and feathers,
and, after you have put the leaf in them, draw the cords so as to pull
its talons tight around it. After that go down to where the waves are
coming in, and at the place the tide has left, stoop down, pretend
to pick up something and put it into your sack. That will be the
wave. Then take a feather from the back of the head of an ayahīˊya (a
solitary bird that continually flies about on the beach) and put it
with the rest. You will become a great dancer like that bird. Finally
take this medicine to a point running far out into the ocean where the
wind blows continually. Tie it there to the top of a tree, where it
will always be blowing back and forth.”
The man did as he had been directed, and the day after began to think
of composing a song. On account of the medicine this was not hard for
him. He also felt that he could dance, and began dancing the same
evening. While doing so he was very light upon his feet. He was as if
in a trance, not knowing exactly what he was doing. Then he thought
to himself, “I am going to the next town.” So he went there and began
singing, and it was soon noised about, “A man has come here who is a
great singer. He is going to dance to-night.” Then all the people went
to that house where he was to dance. He danced and taught the women
his songs, which were very sad. He sang about the different clans
[among the Haida], picking out only good clans. So the young women of
those families began to bring him presents, and each thought, “I will
give the most.” They gave him all kinds of things, robes, fur shirts,
blankets, leggings. He was becoming very rich through dancing.
In the same town was the young son of a chief who wanted very much to
learn to dance and said to him, “How did you come to learn to dance?”
He answered, “I have medicine for dancing.” “You must show me how. I
will pay you well. I want very much to learn.” Then he showed him how
to make the medicine. He said, “You have to fast. If you do that you
will learn. Fast to-morrow, and the next day I will take you up to the
woods.” When they went up he said, “After you have learned how to do
this, you must think of composing a song, and you will see that you
will be able to do so at once. You will be so happy over it that you
will feel as though you were making a great fire.” In the morning the
young man sang and found he could compose songs. Then he went up to the
woods and danced all alone by himself. Like the other, he felt light as
if he were in a dream. By and by it was reported all over town, “This
chief’s son can compose fine songs.” He danced for them, and, because
he was a younger person than the other, he danced far better. At this
the youth’s boy friends said to him, “What makes you do such a thing?
It doesn’t look right for you to do it.” They tried to make him believe
he was above dancing, because they were jealous of him. So he went to
the man who had instructed him, and the latter said, “People will do
this (i. e., dance) all over the world. You will soon hear of it. You
and I will not be the only ones doing it. They say this because they
are jealous of you.” The youth had composed so many beautiful songs
that all the girls had fallen in love with him. That was why the other
youths were jealous of him. The first dancer also said to him, “It is
not high-caste people like yourself merely who will compose songs.
Everybody will learn these and compose others. Anybody that composes
songs like this after having made medicine will have his name become
great in the world.”
When this youth had told his father all he had learned, his father
asked all the people of that town to come to his house and repeated
it to them. Then he said, “I do not think it is well for a high-caste
person to compose songs and be a dancer. They say that a person’s name
will become very high and be known everywhere if he composes songs
and becomes a dancer, but a chief’s son’s name is already high, and a
chief’s name is known everywhere. Why should he compose songs and dance
to make it so? It is better that the poorer people should do this and
make their names known in the world.” If the chief had not said this,
people that compose songs and dance would be very scarce among us. It
is because the chief said, “Let it be among the poorer people so that
their names may be known,” that there are so many composers and dancers
among us. For no chief composes or dances without giving away a great
deal of property.
Thus it happens that there are two kinds of dances, a dance for the
chief and his sons and this common or Haida dance (Dekīˊna ᴀʟǃēˊx). In
the latter, women always accompany it with songs, and, if the composer
sings about some good family, members of the latter give him presents.
When the chief is going to dance, he has to be very careful not to say
anything out of the way. He dances wearing a head dress with weasel
skins, a Chilkat blanket, and leggings and carrying a raven rattle.
He is the only one whose voice is heard, and he speaks very quietly.
Meanwhile, until it is time for them to start singing for him, the
people are very quiet and then only high-caste people sing. The Haida
dance, however, is always accompanied by noise. It is rather a dance
for pleasure, while the chief’s dance is more of a ceremony. Although
most of the people who witness it are high-caste, anyone is welcome.
All watch the chief’s actions and listen to his words very closely.
If he makes the least mistake, showing that he has not studied his
words beforehand very well, they have too much respect for him to say
anything to him at that time. Next day, however, after he has found it
out, if he does not take his words back, the people that had heard will
disgrace him by giving away a great deal of property. The Haida dance
was done away with years ago, while the chief’s dance has been given up
only in very recent times.
After this the man that first taught dancing married in that town and
forgot all about the wealth he had lost. This shows that he was not
smart, for a smart man, when he loses a very little of his property,
thinks of it and next time tries to do better. One time he and his
wife went away in a canoe and upset. His wife was drowned, but he was
captured by the land otters who named him Tūtsǃīdîgūˊʟ, and he has
strength like that of a shaman among them. When anyone is drowned by
the upsetting of his canoe, they say “Tūtsǃīdîgūˊʟ has him.”
* * * * *
One time four boys went out hunting from Klawak with bow and arrows.
They saw some black ducks and shot at them, but the ducks kept swimming
out to sea, drawing them on. Far out the canoe upset. They hunted for
the boys for days and days, but could not find them. Then some property
was given to a shaman named Tuxstāˊ, who sent his spirit after them to
the point on the beach from which they had set out. Then the shaman
said, “The spirits of the boys seem to have taken the road to the
land-otters’ dens.” Therefore they kept on until they saw the boys upon
a point of land, but, as soon as the latter saw them, they ran into
the dens of the land otter. Then the town chief said, “Let the whole
town gather pitchwood and burn up the land-otter dens.” So all of the
people went thither in their canoes, made fires at the mouths of the
dens and killed the land otters as soon as they came out. All perished
but a few, who said, “It is Tūtsǃīdîgūˊʟ’s fault that they have burned
up our houses and our food.” Then Tūtsǃīdîgūˊʟ jumped into the sea from
the other side of the point with the boys all around him, so that they
could not be found.
After this the shaman said, “The land otters are going to make war upon
the people here,” and soon after they did so. The people attacked them
in return and they warred for some time. Many people fell down suddenly
and were taken sick, while others were injured by having limbs of trees
fall upon their heads. The shaman said that these mishaps were really
effects of the land-otters’ arrows, made of the shells of the spider
crab. The people were also suffering from boils and pimples all over
their bodies, and he said that these were produced by the poisonous
shells. So many were dying that all became frightened. Whenever anyone
went out hunting or fishing he would be troubled with boils and itching
places and have to return. The shaman’s spirits, which the land otters
could see, were the only things they feared.
Finally the shaman saw that there were two white land otters, and he
said, “If you can get hold of those you will be all right.” Then a
canoe with four men started off, and the shaman sang with them telling
them that his spirits were going along also to look after them. He
said, “You will be lucky. You will get them. As soon as you get them
put feathers on their heads.” So they went away and camped for the
night. They were unable to sleep, however, on account of the strange
noises about their camp as if people were talking in very low tones.
Still they could not see anything. They would say to one another,
“Do you hear that?” “Yes,” they answered. It was caused by the two
high-caste white land otters who were talking to Tuxstāˊ’s spirits.
Next morning the men arose very early, and the eldest said to the one
next in years, “Get up. I have had a queer dream. I dreamt that we
had a deer and that we were taking our deer to the land-otter den.”
Then one of them answered, “You have had a lucky dream. Let us start
right away.” So they took the canoe down and set out. Going along on
the opposite side of the point on which they had camped, they saw the
two white otters swimming in the water. The shaman’s spirits had been
holding them. Then the men said to them, “Stay there. We have had you
for a long time now.” So the otters remained where they were, and they
caught them and put feathers upon their heads. They were making deer of
them. They took them home to the fort in which they dwelt and carried
them in. All the people danced for them. And that night, after they
had retired, the people dreamt that the land otters were dancing the
peace-making dance. Some of the people said, “They really danct,” but
others replied, “No, they did not dance. We only dreamt it.” Still they
dressed up to dance in return. All were fasting, as was customary when
peace is about to be made. They also fed the land otters and waited
upon them very carefully.
By and by the shaman said that the land otters were coming, so the
people made ready for them. They soaked a very bitter root, called
sǃîkc, in water for a long time. Some said, “They are not coming.
The shaman has made that up,” but others believed him and got ready.
Finally the shaman said, “To-morrow they will be here.” The next
morning it was very foggy and they could not see far out, but they
heard a drum beating. At length the land-otter-people came ashore, and
they helped them carry their things up to the houses. One of these land
otters had two heads, one under the other. It was Tūtsǃīdîgūˊʟ. All
said, “We depend on Tūtsǃīdîgūˊʟ.” Then numbers of land otters came
into the house, but, as soon as Tūtsǃīdîgūˊʟ appeared at the door,
everybody there but the shaman fell down as if dead. The shaman in turn
filled his mouth with the poisonous water they had prepared and spit
it about upon the otters, rendering unconscious all that it touched.
The land otters, however, shouted, “Keep away from Tūtsǃīdîgūˊʟ. Let
him do his work.” So Tūtsǃīdîgūˊʟ danced, saying, “Ha, ha, ha.” When
they started a song, the land otters mentioned Tūtsǃīdîgūˊʟ’s name in
the manner of the Indians. When they were through with their dance, all
of the people woke up, and the land otters also came to. But, when the
human beings got up on their feet, all had vanished including the two
white ones.
Then the village people said to one another, “Did you see the dances?”
“Yes,” they answered. They knew something had happened and did not want
to admit having missed it. “Did you see this Tūtsǃīdîgūˊʟ?” “Yes.” “How
was he dressed?” “He had two heads and wore a dancing apron. He carried
two large round rattles. As soon as he moved around sideways we all
went to sleep.”
* * * * *
Now all the people were very happy because the salmon were running, but
before they had left the town Raven came to them and said, “Don’t leave
the town. Stay right here. Don’t go to any of the salmon creeks.” They
were very hungry for salmon, however, and said to four boys, “Go to the
salmon creek close by and get some salmon for the village.” So they
went there and filled their canoe.
This salmon stream runs down into a sort of lake, and, while they were
upon this paddling homeward, they heard some one calling to them.
Presently a man came down through the woods and shouted, “Stay where
you are, and I will tell you something.” Looking at this man, they
saw that he was naked and painted red all over. He said, “When you
have gone a short distance, the fellow sitting in the bow will fall
over. When you have gone a little farther, the next will do the same.
A little farther still the next one will fall over. You fellow in the
stern will reach home and tell the news. It is through the shaman’s own
spirits that he is killed.”
They could not understand this last saying for the shaman had been
alive when they left, but all things happened just as the man had
predicted. After they had gone a short distance the man in the bow fell
over with blood pouring out of his mouth. The same thing happened to
the next two. When the steersman reached town with the three bodies
they asked him what was the matter, but he said, “Do not ask me any
questions. Give me something to eat quickly.” So they gave him some
food, and, after he had finished eating, he said, “As we were paddling
along from the creek with our salmon, a man came out of the woods
saying, ‘Stay where you are and I will tell you something.’ So we
stopped, and he went on, ‘When you get a short distance from here, the
man in the bow will drop over, a little farther the next one and a
little farther the next one. There will be three. It is what the shaman
sees that kills him.’ It has happened just as he said. And he said to
me, ‘The fellow in the stern will get home and have something to eat.
Just as soon as he has eaten he will drop over.’” And so it happened.
Just as soon as he had told the story he dropped over dead. Then the
shaman asked for his apron, hat, and necklace as if he were going to
doctor some one. As soon as he had dressed, he turned himself around
three or four times, as the shamans used to do when they were dying.
Afterward blood began to flow from his mouth, and he died.
* * * * *
Now the people of that town were very much frightened, and none of them
went away. They had heard before that the land otters have death and
all kinds of sickness for their bows and arrows, but until then they
had not believed it. Afterward the people began to starve, and the
children especially suffered very much. One child, who must have been
very poor, would cry at night with hunger. After he had been crying for
several nights in this manner the people saw a torch coming toward the
house and heard the bearer of it say, “Come here, grandchild, and I
will feed you on qǃołkᴀdᴀkêˊx̣.” The child did so. This man was named
Man-with-a-burning-hand (Djînakax̣ᴀˊdza), because his hand was always
on fire and what he called qǃołkᴀdᴀkêˊx̣ were ants (wᴀnᴀtuˊx). This
happened at Tᴀˊqdjîk-ān, the old town of the Klawak people.
Now the father and mother of this child looked about for it, weeping
continually. As they were passing a certain cliff, they heard a
child crying there, and, raising a flat rock which appeared to cover
an opening, they saw it lying inside. Then they saw that ants were
crawling out of its nose, eyes, and ears. After that many other
children were brought thither, and their parents said to them, “Look
at this. Man-with-a-burning-hand did this because the child cried
so much. You are always crying too. This will happen to you some
day if you do not stop.” Back of the site of Tᴀˊqdjîk-ān there is a
cliff still called Man-with-a-burning-hand. This story was mostly
for children, and, when a child cried too much, they would say, “Do
not cry so much or Man-with-a-burning-hand will get you.” The story
was known all over Alaska, and the children were very much afraid of
Man-with-a-burning-hand.[97]
* * * * *
In the same town, Tᴀˊqdjîk-ān, lived a chief named G̣ᴀłwēˊtǃ belonging
to the Takᵘaneˊdî family. He was bathing in the sea for strength
every day, and the people of his village bathed with him. In the cold
mornings he would rise, run down to the sea, and rush in. Then he would
run up to a good-sized tree and try to pull a limb out of it. He would
afterward go to another and try to twist it from top to bottom. He
wanted to do these things because he was trying to become a killer of
sea lions.