“Jesus, ta skwish tseetsel tomuk
Ta tlee-tlup tomuk shnays,
Lee-zas ta mes-tay-oh wa-tlats
Ta lee-am see-see nam tla-o.”
(_In An-ko-me-num._)
“Jesus, the name high over all,
In hell or earth or sky;
Angels and men before it fall
And devils fear and fly.”
The number and varied dialects of the Indian languages of the Coast
were such that very few white men ever tried to learn them. Of the
An-ko-me-num language alone there are at present at least five or six
different dialects.
The Chinook jargon, or Oregon trade language, as it is sometimes
called, is really not a language, but is a composite of several
languages.
The first trading posts on the Coast were at Nootka, on the west coast
of Vancouver Island, and among the Chinook Indians on the Columbia
River. Among the first traders were the servants of the great fur
companies, the Hudson’s Bay, the Nor’West, and the Astor.
To the At words, learned by the traders at Nootka, were added many
others from the language of the Chinooks, as well as English and
French, the languages of the traders themselves. Some few words were
taken from the An-ko-me-num and some were formed from the sound. The
Chinook words predominating gave the name to the jargon.
It was in use as early as 1804, and in 1863 a dictionary of the jargon
was published by the Smithsonian Institute, containing some 500 words.
Of these 221 were Chinook, 18 At or Nootka, 94 French, 67 English, and
21 were credited to various branches of the Salish or Flathead family
of Indians.
In early years a trading knowledge of Chinook was necessary in order
to do business, as is a like knowledge of French on the borders of
the Province of Quebec. It is now rapidly falling into disuse, the
result of the training in English which some of the later generations
have received in the school. At the best it is but a wretched means of
communication, poor in expression and almost destitute of grammatical
forms.
“Klah-how-yah,” the term of salutation, bears such a striking
resemblance to “How are you?” that one is disposed to accept its
derivation from the oft-repeated enquiries of the friends of the
intrepid explorer Clark after his health, “Clak-how-yah?”
“Tum-tum” is a sound word for heart, and is used as well to express
will, purpose, desire. “Lip-lip” (to boil) is another such word,
imitating boiling water. “Hee-hee” indicates laughter, hence any kind
of amusement. “Kol-sick-waum-sick” is very expressive of fever and
ague.
“Mamook” (to make) can be used with any noun to indicate some form of
activity.
“Illa-hee” (ground) is linked with different words to convey a more
extended idea. “Saghalie illahee” means literally “highlands,” but also
suggests “a mountain,” and finally “heaven.” “Boston illahee,” the
United States, etc.
“Saghalie tyee,” which literally means “the chief above,” is the word
used for God.
The poverty of expression may be gathered from the fact that “tikke,”
meaning “to wish, to desire,” is the only way to express the cardinal
virtue “love.” “Happiness,” “joy,” as well as “good health,” are simply
“klosh tumtum,” which literally means a “good heart.”
“Skookum tumtum” (a strong heart) conveys the idea of “courage.”
“Chako” (come) and “chee” (new) are combined in an expression with
which most Westerners are familiar, “chee-chako” (newcomer) or
“tenderfoot.”
An amusing story is told of a certain dignitary of the Church,
which very fully illustrates the powers and limitations of Chinook.
Addressing, among other audiences, a band of Coast Indians, he began
with the flowery and high-sounding sentence, “Children of the forest.”
The interpreter translated it into good Chinook, but the Indians
naturally enough were indignant, and only a few remained to hear him
out. “Children of the forest” literally translated was “Tenas man kopa
hyas stik,” which means simply “Little man among big stick,” and they
resented being called “little men,” or even children, and they did not
live in the woods.
NO CHINOOK FOR ME.
From the first I refused to have anything to do with Chinook, and when
the people would meet me on the road and commence to talk in it, I
made them understand by signs that I wished them to speak their own
language, in order that I might learn it.
So intense was my anxiety to get their language that I found myself,
when asleep, dreaming in it, and dreaming that I was preaching to
hundreds of people in their own tongue.
I attended the great feasts and heathen councils, and sat by the hour
listening to the old chiefs and orators relating the stories of the
chase, or recounting the tales of the bloody deeds of other days, when
they went out on great war expeditions and returned with many scalps.
How the old orators would rise with the enthusiasm of the occasion and
seem to make the ground tremble under their feet as they rejoicingly
told of the names and deeds of their fathers, to fire the ambitions of
the young princes and young men of rank--for it was only the high-caste
who were permitted to sit in these councils. It was at these gatherings
we got the proper sound of many words.
The children also were a great help to me in the study of the language.
As I gave them the English name for the objects around them I would
have them repeat it in their own tongue, and by earnest perseverance
and the help of God I soon had the unspeakable joy of being able to
preach to them in their own language the unsearchable riches of Christ.
In all my work since then I have experienced that in no way can one
properly preach the truth to a people except in their own language.
This knowledge of the language opened up my way to other tribes and
bands of the same nationality.
On my first visit to the Fraser River, some years later, I came to
a village early one morning, and, stepping out of my canoe, shouted
out at the top of my voice in An-ko-me-num, “Why are all the chiefs
sleeping like children so late this morning?” The old men rushed out to
see the big Indian. I again shouted out the same words, and they cried
out, “Listen to him! Where has he come from? We heard no white man
speak like this. Has he come from above?”
On one of my canoe trips years ago around Burrard Inlet, when there was
only one sawmill where now a beautiful city (Vancouver) and a number of
thriving villages are situated, a white man, who had made me welcome
to his home and treated me to dinner, said, as I was getting into my
canoe, while a number of white men stood by, “Do you know what I was
thinking, Mr. Crosby? That if you would put a blanket on and get into
the canoe and commence to talk, nobody would know you from an Indian.”
I said, “I beg your pardon, sir; I didn’t know that I looked so much
like an Indian.”
“Oh!” he replied, “I didn’t mean that; I meant to say, you speak the
language so well that we could not tell you from an Indian speaking.”
AMUSING MISTAKES.
There are amusing sides to this matter of acquiring a language. In my
early efforts in the use of the native tongue, while I was preaching
one Sunday on the riches that are in Christ, and the poverty and misery
which sin brings, I noticed when I spoke of poverty that a group of
young men on one side could not contain themselves for laughter. They
tried to straighten up, for they were usually very respectful in the
services.
After repeating the word again and seeing the same behaviour, I
concluded I must have made some mistake, and turning to the young men
I said, “Now, young men, I see by your actions that I said something
which has caused you amusement; perhaps some word of yours which I do
not know very well. Tell me what it is.”
They hung their heads with shame. But I pressed them for reply,
saying: “If you were endeavoring to speak English you would wish to be
corrected if you had made a mistake.”
So pressed, young Quin-nom, one of their number, said: “Yes, Mr.
Crosby, you speak our language very well, almost as well as an Indian,
but to-day you made a mistake. Our word for poor is ‘sel-la-wa,’ and
when you were speaking of sin making us poor you said ‘sel-la-we-a,’
which is a woman’s name who lives away down the Coast about sixty
miles, and so we could not help laughing.”
Thus our readers may see some of the difficulties we labored under,
when only a slight change in the tone of voice might change the meaning
of a whole sentence--difficulties, however, that every student of a new
and unwritten language has to contend with.
NO SWEARING IN INDIAN.
Speaking of the peculiarities of the language, it may be remarked
that the Indian languages have no words properly to express abstract
qualities, no words to express the ideas of love, peace, pardon,
repentance, etc., as we understand them. So that one of our first tasks
was to explain to them as best we could by illustration and otherwise
the meaning of such words.
On the other hand it should also be said that there are no “swear
words” in the Indian languages. Yes, it is a fact, the poor Indian must
go to his white brother to learn to swear or take the name of God in
vain. In the An-ko-me-num, the worst that can be said is, “Kai! kai!
kai! tanowa squimag,” which interpreted means, “Die! die! die! you
dog.” This, in an angry tone, is the worst they can say. Of course, the
tone and the look have a good deal to do with it.
Once I heard a little boy swear loudly in the presence of other boys. I
stopped the play and said to him, calling him by name, “Johnny, where
did you learn to say those awful words and to use the name of Jesus in
that way?” “Oh,” he said, “is it bad? I heard a white man speak like
that at the cannery where I was fishing, but if you say it is wrong I
will not do it any more.” “Yes,” I said, “it is very wrong, you must
not call that dear name in that way any more.”
How thoroughly ashamed I have been again and again, when I have heard
an Indian swearing, at the thought that he must have learned it from
one of my race and people.
THE LORD’S PRAYER IN CHINOOK.
_Nesika papa_, mitlite kopa saghalie, klosh spose konaway tilikum
mamook praise mika nem; klosh spose konaway tilikum mamook tyee mika;
klaska spose konaway tilikum kopa okook illahie mamook mika tumtum,
kaw-kwa klaska mamook kopa saghalie-illahie. Okook sun, pe konaway-sun
potlatch nesika muk-amuk; pe klosh mika mash okook ma-sa-tchie nesika
mamook kopa mika, kaw-kwa nesika mash okook ma-sa-tchie hul-oi-ma
tilikum mamook kopa nesika; pe klosh mika mamook help nesika, spose
halo-ikta tolo nesika kopa ma-sa-tchie; pe klosbe mika mamook haul
nesika spose halo nesika chako kla-kow-yu.
Klosh spose kawkwa.