CHAPTER IV

NATIVES

Most of the Sitkan Kolosh kept aloof from the Russian settlement after

the establishment of the new fort on Chatham Strait, near the entrance

of Peril Strait. All the kwans, the Khootznoos, the Hoonahs, the

Chilkats, the Auks, Stikines, Kakes and others, joined with the Sitkas

in the hatred of the Russians. Parties going out from the fort at Sitka

for hunting expeditions, for cutting of wood, for traveling to the Hot

Springs, had to be on their guard and with arms at hand prepared to

fight at a moment's notice.[9] Small groups were often cut off and

murdered. As it was impossible to decide which of the many kwans did the

act, and as there were those in each kwan who were peaceable, with whom

it was desired to keep the peace, revenge against any village was

inadvisable. Even as late as the date of the lease to the Hudson's Bay Co.

the Russian ships that sailed among the islands to trade with the Kolosh

were compelled to act with the strictest caution. Only a few natives

were admitted on board at a time, the trading was done in a space near

the stern, and was conducted under the muzzles of loaded cannon

concealed in the fore part of the ship.[10] The conditions were thus

until 1821, when the Sitkas were invited to reoccupy the site of the old

village and to live in what is now known as the "Ranche," under the guns

of the redoubt.

The Thlingit nation is a strange, warlike, shrewd people, physically

strong and enduring, and possessed of many excellent qualities. Hunters

and fishermen by nature and training, they are skillful boatmen, and in

those days they built wonderfully beautiful canoes of the red cedar,

some of them large enough to carry sixty men at the paddles. Each spring

more than a thousand men gathered together in Sitka Bay, coming from the

different villages, to fish for herring at the spawning time, when those

fish run in countless myriads in those waters. Hemlock boughs were

placed in the water, and on them the herring roe collected until they

were encrusted with the eggs which were then stripped off and dried for

future use.

[Illustration: The "Ranche"--Looking north from the top of the Baranof

Castle. The Steamer at the left is the "Coquitlam," noted for her

participation in pelagic sealing and she was under seizure by the U. S.

Government.]

In 1807 there were over 2,000 hostile natives gathered in the harbor at

the herring season and they threatened an attack on the settlement.

Kuskof, the most trusted and able lieutenant of Baranof, was in charge,

and it put his wisdom and watchfulness to the test to avert disaster.

The strictest discipline was maintained. The tribesmen waited outside

day after day, hoping for news of some relaxation of the precautions of

the defenders to be brought to them by the women of the tribe who were

married to the Russian promishleniki (hunters). Day and night the

sentinels paced the beats on the stockade and along the waterfront,

till, weary of waiting, the Kolosh finally dispersed to their homes.

In the great tribal houses several families lived, sometimes as many as

fifty or sixty persons. Over the door of the house was painted the

family totem, for the Sitkas did not raise the house totem in a pole in

front as did many of the kwans of the Thlingits, and as the Hydahs do.

In these houses were held the potlatches, or gift parties, which were

made by the wealthy chiefs.

The potlatches were of different kinds, although all partook of the

nature of a feasting or merrymaking and were distinguished by the giving

of gifts. In the ordinary visiting potlatches, or in the berry

potlatches, the visitors came in their canoes with which they formed a

line off shore opposite the houses, put planks from one canoe to another

and on these planks danced the tribal dance. Those on shore danced the

welcome dance and invited the guests ashore. Then the visitors

disembarked and each family became the guest of their kinsmen of their

totem or they went to the guesthouse of the kwan. All the people of the

same totem are supposed to be blood relations, so all those of the wolf

totem go to the _Gooch-heat_, or the dwelling blazoned by the rude

heraldry with the wolf rampant. In the great social potlatches a wealthy

chief invites his friends from many villages and entertains them for a

week or more with dancing and feasting and makes presents varied and

valuable, from Hudson's Bay blankets to bolts of calico or of flannel,

and in primitive days, copper tows,[11] Chilkat blankets, and even

slaves were handed over with a lavish hospitality.

On special occasions in the olden time, with great ceremony the visitors

landed at a distance from the village, drew their canoes ashore and

proceeded to the village dressed in festive garments adorned with

sealion heads or other strange headdresses, in which they danced the

rare and picturesque "Beach Dance," in acknowledgement to the Spirit of

the Sea for the bountiful supply of salmon and herring of the past

season--for the native American is a thankful being and omits not to

show it when occasion offers to acknowledge it to the Giver of all good

and perfect gifts.

During the earlier years of the colony the Kolosh were implacable

enemies. War parties of young men constantly haunted the islands of the

bay, lying in wait for any unwary hunter or fisherman from the fort.

Later, when they were settled under the walls of the fort they became

more tractable, for their homes and families were commanded by the guns

of the fortress, but on the least provocation the savagery in their

blood would boil, from their great tribal houses they issued forth,

faces blackened to the semblance of devils, war masks grinning, and the

howling mob shouted defiance at their neighbor over the stockade. Many a

bloody tragedy was enacted in the "Ranche" for their code was primitive,

"an eye for an eye," and a life for a life.

Feuds raged between the different totemic families. About 1853 a party

of Wrangell Indians (Stikines) visited Sitka, and while being

entertained in the guest-house were murdered and their bodies piled into

a canoe which was then paddled to Japonski Island. On striking the shore

it was so heavily laden with the bodies of the dead that tradition says

the canoe split from end to end. It is said that the bones of the dead

are still to be seen in the undergrowth along the shore. In retaliation,

about 1855, the Wrangell Kolosh made an attack on the Hot Springs

settlement, burned the buildings, stripped the inhabitants of property

and clothing and left them to make their way over the mountains around

the head of Silver Bay to Sitka, where they arrived more dead than alive

from hunger and exhaustion. This feud was not settled until 1918, when a

peace treaty was consummated between the kwans on Armistice Day, a

coincidence which is much made of by the tribesmen.

The Kolosh were as firm believers in witchcraft as any of the more

civilized nations. They resorted to their shamans (_ekhts_) or

medicine men in case of illness. If his weird incantations failed to

relieve the sufferer, his resort was that the victim was bewitched and

some poor unfortunate paid the penalty by enduring the most fiendish

torture.

One March day in 1855 a commotion arose in the Kolosh village. A sentry

caught an Indian who was stealing and punished him, for which the tribe

called for vengeance. Some rushed to the stockade and began to cut away

the palisades. Other forced their way into the Koloshian Church through

the outer door. From this vantage point they fired on the garrison and

in return the batteries of the fort blazed back with solid shot and

shrapnel. For two hours the fight continued, when the Kolosh gave up all

hope of success, and ceased the battle. The Russian loss in killed and

wounded was 20 men, while the Kolosh loss was estimated at 60. This was

the last attempt of the natives to destroy the Russian stronghold.

At times during the later days of the colony the Kolosh were employed as

seamen and as workers in the ice trade by the Russians and thus they

occupied a place in the industrial life. Etolin was the most successful

in conciliating them of any of the chief managers, and he at one time

held a fur fair at Sitka to which peltry was brought from far and near,

modeled somewhat upon the idea of the great fur mart of Nizhni Novgorod.

Most of them, however, hunted and fished, lived in their tribal houses,

carved their canoes, wove their baskets, and practiced their witchcraft,

while their civilized neighbors gathered the furs and built ships.

Under the walls of the fort, in the old tribal houses of the Kolosh

which had not been destroyed, lived the Aleuts. Properly speaking the

name belongs to the natives of the Aleutian Islands, but the term was

also applied to the natives of Kodiak Island and the surrounding islets.

These speak a different language from the true Aleuts, but otherwise

resemble them closely. During the hunting season they scoured the seas

in their skin bidarkas, in the pursuit of fur animals. In winter many of

them remained at Sitka instead of returning to their homes. Their time

was spent in idleness, spending the summer's earnings in the pleasures

and vices of the white man. One who saw them in their kazhims, as their

dwellings were often called, describes them: "Morally, the Aleut is not

bloodthirsty. He delights in simple rejoicings and will play you a game

of chess with walrus ivory pieces--a duck for a pawn and a penguin for a

king--with the greatest of good humor. Even when squabbles arrive the

argument is carried on in poetry to the accompaniment of dancing, and

one would be inclined to prefer the Aleut angry to the Aleut amiable,

did he not know he also dances when festive and when religious.

"Among them the social duty of visiting has its drawbacks. Several

families live together in the kazhims, and during one's visit they all

lie around in every conceivable posture, jolly and genial, naked and

unashamed. The fumes of the blubber oil lamps and stoves, the stores of

raw meat, the many naked bodies, well smeared with grease and scented

with primitive unguents, combine to make an atmosphere difficult to

tolerate and not easy to describe. Yet, if you will, you may enjoy the

warmest hospitality, and have heaped upon you the most assiduous

attentions."

The Story of Sitka The Historic Outpost of the Northwest Coast; The Chief Factory of the Russian American Company · 第 4 / 9 章