Copyright by E. A. Hegg, Juneau Courtesy of Webster & Stevens, Seattle Old Russian Building, SitkaCopyright by E. A. Hegg, JuneauCourtesy of Webster & Stevens, SeattleOld 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 andthe 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 atrousseauequal 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 thekalúshka, 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 youmust 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 thePost-Intelligencerbusiness 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 gotdark 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 thePost-Intelligencer, of Seattle, Wash., and I think the people will be glad to know some of it."
"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 gotdark 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 thePost-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.
Copyright by E. A. Hegg, Juneau Greek-Russian Church at SitkaCopyright by E. A. Hegg, JuneauGreek-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 thehonor 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, tosecure 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 theBoston, 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 ofthe 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.
Leaving Ketchikan, Clarence Strait is entered. This was named by Vancouver for the Duke of Clarence, and extends in a northwesterly direction for a hundred miles. The celebrated Stikine River empties into it. On Wrangell Island, near the mouth of the Stikine, is Fort Wrangell, where the steamer makes a stop of several hours.
Fort Wrangell was the first settlement made in southeastern Alaska, after Sitka. It was established in 1834, by Lieutenant Zarembo, who acted under the orders of Baron Wrangell, Governor of the Colonies at that time.
A grave situation had arisen over a dispute between the Russian American Company and the equally powerful Hudson Bay Company, the latter having pressed its operations over the Northwest and seriously undermined the trade of the former. In 1825, the Hudson Bay Company had taken advantage of the clause in the Anglo-Russian treaty of that year,—which provided for the free navigation of streams crossing Russian territory in their course from the British possessions to the sea,—and had pushed its trading operations to the upper waters of the Stikine, and in 1833 had outfitted the brigDryadwith colonists, cattle, and arms for the establishing of trading posts on the Stikine.
Lieutenant Zarembo, with two armed vessels, theChichagoffand theChilkaht, established a fort on a small peninsula, on the site of an Indian village, and named itRedoubt St. Dionysius. All unaware of these significant movements, theDryad, approaching the mouth of the Stikine, was received by shots from the shore, as well as from a vessel in the harbor. She at once put back until out of range, and anchored. Lieutenant Zarembo went out in a boat, and, in the name of the Governor and the Emperor, forbade the entrance of a British vessel into the river. Representations from the agents of the Hudson Bay Company were unavailing; they were warned to at once remove themselves and their vessel from the vicinity—which they accordingly did.
This affair was the cause of serious trouble between the two nations, which was not settled until 1839, when a commission met in London and solved the difficulties by deciding that Russia should pay an indemnity of twenty thousand pounds, and lease to the Hudson Bay Company the now celebratedlisière, or thirty-mile strip from Dixon Entrance to Yakutat.
In 1840 the Hudson Bay Company raised the British flag and changed the name from Redoubt St. Dionysius to Fort Stikine. Sir George Simpson's men are said to have passed several years of most exciting and adventurous life there, owing to the attacks and besiegements of the neighboring Indians. An attempt to scale the stockade resulted in failure and defeat. The following year the fort's supply of water was cut off and the fort was besieged; but the Britishers saved themselves by luckily seizing a chief as hostage.
A year later occurred another attack, in which the fort would have fallen had it not been for the happy arrival of two armed vessels in charge of Sir George Simpson, who tells the story in this brief and simple fashion:—
"By daybreak on Monday, the 25th of April (1842), we were in Wrangell's Straits, and toward evening, as we approached Stikine, my apprehensions were awakened byobserving the two national flags, the Russian and the English, hoisted half-mast high, while, on landing about seven, my worst fears were realized by hearing of the tragical end of Mr. John McLoughlin, Jr., the gentleman recently in charge. On the night of the twentieth a dispute had arisen in the fort, while some of the men, as I was grieved to hear, were in a state of intoxication; and several shots were fired, by one of which Mr. McLoughlin fell. My arrival at this critical juncture was most opportune, for otherwise the fort might have fallen a sacrifice to the savages, who were assembled round to the number of two thousand, justly thinking that the place could make but a feeble resistance, deprived as it was of its head, and garrisoned by men in a state of complete insubordination."
In 1867 a United States military post was established on a new site. A large stockade was erected and garrisoned by two companies of the Twenty-first Infantry. This post was abandoned in 1870, the buildings being sold for six hundred dollars.
In the early eighties Lieutenant Schwatka found Wrangell "the most tumble-down-looking company of cabins I ever saw." He found its "Chinatown" housed in an old Stikine River steamboat on the beach, which had descended to its low estate as gradually and almost as imperceptibly as Becky Sharpe descended to the "soiled white petticoat" condition of life. As Queen of the Stikine, the old steamer had earned several fortunes for her owners in that river's heyday times; then she was beached and used as a store; then, as a hotel; and, last of all, as a Chinese mess- and lodging-house.
In 1838 another attempt had been made by the Hudson Bay Company to establish a trading post at Dease Lake, about sixty miles from Stikine River and a hundred and fifty from the sea. This attempt also was a failure. Thetortures of fear and starvation were vividly described by Mr. Robert Campbell, who had charge of the party making the attempt, which consisted of four men.
"We passed a winter of constant dread from the savage Russian Indians, and of much suffering from starvation. We were dependent for subsistence on what animals we could catch, and, failing that, ontripe de roche(moss). We were at one time reduced to such dire straits that we were obliged to eat our parchment windows, and our last meal before abandoning Dease Lake, on the eighth of May, 1839, consisted of the lacings of our snow-shoes."
Had it not been for the kindness and the hospitality of the female chief of the Nahany tribe of Indians, who inhabited the region, the party would have perished.
The Indians of the coast in early days made long trading excursions into the interior, to obtain furs.
The discovery of the Cassiar mines, at the head of the Stikine, was responsible for the revival of excitement and lawlessness in Fort Wrangell, as it had been named at the time of its first military occupation, and a company of the Fourth Artillery was placed in charge until 1877, the date of the removal of troops from all posts in Alaska.
The first post and the ground upon which it stood were sold to W. K. Lear. The next company occupied it at a very small rental, contrary to the wishes of the owner. In 1884 the Treasury Department took possession, claiming that the first sale was illegal. A deputy collector was placed in charge. The case was taken into the courts, but it was not until 1890 that a decision was rendered in the Sitka court that, as the first sale was unconstitutional, Mr. Lear was entitled to his six hundred dollars with interest compounding for twenty years.
Wrangell gradually fell into a storied and picturesque decay. The burnished halo of early romance has always clung to her. At the time of the gold excitement andthe rush to the Klondike, the town revived suddenly with the reopening of navigation on the Stikine. This was, at first, a favorite route to the Klondike. At White Horse may to-day be seen steamers which were built on the Stikine in 1898, floated by piecemeal up that river and across Lake Teslin, and down the Hootalinqua River to the Yukon, having been packed by horses the many intervening miles between rivers and lakes, at fifty cents a pound. Reaching their destination at White Horse, they were put together, and started on the Dawson run.
Looking at these historic steamers, now lying idle at White Horse, the passenger and freight rates do not seem so exorbitant as they do before one comes to understand the tremendous difficulties of securing any transportation at all in these unknown and largely unexplored regions in so short a time. Even a person who owns no stock in steamship or railway corporations, if he be sensible and reasonable, must be able to see the point of view of the men who dauntlessly face such hardships and perils to furnish transportation in these wild and inaccessible places. They take such desperate chances neither for their health nor for sweet charity's sake.
Three years ago Wrangell was largely destroyed by fire. It is partially rebuilt, but the visitor to-day is doomed to disappointment at first sight of the modern frontier buildings. Ruins of the old fort, however, remain, and several ancient totems are in the direction of the old burial ground. One, standing in front of a modern cottage which has been erected on the site of the old lodge, is all sprouted out in green. Mosses, grasses, and ferns spring in April freshness out of the eyes of children, the beaks of eagles, and the open mouths of frogs; while the very crest of the totem is crowned a foot or more high with a green growth. The effect is at once ludicrous and pathetic,—marking, as it does, thevanishing of a picturesque and interesting race, its customs and its superstitions.
The famous chief of the Stikine region was Shakes, a fierce, fighting, bloodthirsty old autocrat, dreaded by all other tribes, and insulted with impunity by none. He was at the height of his power in the forties, but lived for many years afterward, resisting the advances of missionaries and scorning their religion to the day of his death. In many respects he was like the equally famous Skowl of Kasa-an, who went to the trouble and the expense of erecting a totem-pole for the sole purpose of perpetuating his scorn and derision of Christian advances to his people. The totem is said to have been covered with the images of priests, angels, and books.
Shakes was given one of the most brilliant funerals ever held in Alaska; but whether as an expression of irreconcilable grief or of uncontrollable joy in the escape of his people from his tyrannic and overbearing sway, is not known. He belonged to the bear totem, and a stuffed bear figured in the pageant and was left to guard his grave.
The climate of Wrangell is charming, owing to the high mountains on the islands to the westward which shelter the town from the severity of the ocean storms. The growing of vegetables and berries is a profitable investment, both reaching enormous size, the latter being of specially delicate flavor. Flowers bloom luxuriantly.
The Wrangell shops at present contain some very fine specimens of basketry, and the prices were very reasonable, although most of the tourists from our steamer were speechless when they heard them. Some real Attu and Atka baskets were found here at prices ranging from one hundred dollars up. At Wrangell, therefore, the tourist begins to part with his money, and does not cease until he has reached Skaguay to the northward, or Sitka andYakutat to the westward; and if he should journey out into the Aleutian Isles, he may borrow money to get home. The weave displayed is mostly twined, but some fine specimens of coiled and coiled imbricated were offered us in the dull, fascinating colors used by the Thompson River Indians of British Columbia, having probably been obtained in trade. These latter are treasures, and always worth buying, especially as Indian baskets are increasing in value with every year that passes. Baskets that I purchased easily for three dollars or three and a half in 1905 were held stubbornly at seven and a half or eight in 1907; while the difference in prices of the more expensive ones was even greater.
Squaws sit picturesquely about the streets, clad in gay colors, with their wares spread out on the sidewalk in front of them. They invariably sit with their backs against buildings or fences, seeming to have an aversion to permitting any one to stand or pass behind them. They have grown very clever at bargaining; and the little trick, which has been practised by tourists for years, of waiting until the gangway is being hauled in and then making an offer for a coveted basket, has apparently been worn threadbare, and is received with jeers and derision,—which is rather discomfiting to the person making the offer if he chances to be upon a crowded steamer. The squaws point their fingers at him, to shame him, and chuckle and tee-hee among themselves, with many guttural cluckings and side-glances so good-naturedly contemptuous and derisive as to be embarrassing beyond words,—particularly as some greatly desired basket disappears into a filthy bag and is borne proudly away on a scornful dark shoulder.
Baskets are growing scarcer and more valuable, and the tourist who sees one that he desires, will be wise to pay the price demanded for it, as the conditions of tradingwith the Alaskan Indians are rapidly changing. The younger Indians frequently speak and understand English perfectly; while the older ones are adepts in reading a human face; making a combination not easily imposed upon. Even the officers of the ship, who, being acquainted with "Mollie" or "Sallie," "Mrs. Sam" or "Pete's Wife," volunteer to buy a basket at a reduction for some enthusiastic but thin-pursed passenger, do not at present meet with any exhilarating success.
"S'pose she pay my price," "Mrs. Sam" replies, with smiling but stubborn indifference, as she sets the basket away.
Indian basketry is poetry, music, art, and life itself woven exquisitely together out of dreams, and sent out into a thoughtless world in appealing messages which will one day be farewells, when the poor lonely dark women who wove them are no more.
At its best, the basketry of the islands of Atka and Attu in the Aleutian chain is the most beautiful in the world. Most of the basketry now sold as Attu is woven by the women of Atka, we were told at Unalaska, which is the nearest market for these baskets. Only one old woman remains on Attu who understands this delicate and priceless work; and she is so poorly paid that she was recently reported to be in a starving condition, although the velvety creations of her old hands and brain bring fabulous prices to some one. The saying that an Attu basket increases a dollar for every mile as it travels toward civilization, is not such an exaggeration as it seems. I saw a trader from the little steamerDora—the only one regularly plying those far waters—buy a small basket, no larger than a pint bowl, for five dollars in Unalaska; and a month later, on another steamer, between Valdez and Seattle, an enthusiastic young man from New York brought the same basket out of his stateroom and proudly displayed it.
"I got this one at a great bargain," he bragged, with shining eyes. "I bought it in Valdez for twenty-five dollars, just what it cost at Unalaska. The man neededthe money worse than the basket. I don't know how it is, but I'm always stumbling on bargains like that!" he concluded, beginning to strut.
Then I was heartless enough to laugh, and to keep on laughing. I had greatly desired that basket myself!
He had the satisfaction of knowing, however, that his little twined bowl, with the coloring of a Behring Sea sunset woven into it, would be worth fifty dollars by the time he reached Seattle, and at least a hundred in New York; and it was so soft and flexible that he could fold it up meantime and carry it in his pocket, if he chose,—to say nothing of the fact that Elizabeth Propokoffono, the young and famed dark-eyed weaver of Atka, may have woven it herself. Like the renowned "Sally-bags," made by Sally, a Wasco squaw, the baskets woven by Elizabeth have a special and sentimental value. If she would weave her initials into them, she might ask, and receive, any price she fancied. Sally, of the Wascos, on the other hand, is very old; no one weaves her special bag, and they are becoming rare and valuable. They are of plain, twined weaving, and are very coarse. A small one in the writer's possession is adorned with twelve fishes, six eagles, three dogs, and two and a half men. Sally is apparently a woman-suffragist of the old school, and did not consider that men counted for much in the scheme of Indian baskets; yet, being a philosopher, as well as a suffragist, concluded that half a man was better than none at all.
At Yakutat "Mrs. Pete" is the best-known basket weaver. Young, handsome, dark-eyed, and clean, with a chubby baby in her arms, she willingly, and with great gravity, posed against the pilot-house of the oldSanta Anafor her picture. Asked for an address to which I might send one of the pictures, she proudly replied, "Just Mrs. Pete, Yakutat." Her courtesy was in marked contrast to the exceeding rudeness with which the Sitkanwomen treat even the most considerate and deferential photographers; glaring at them, turning their backs, covering their heads, hissing, and even spitting at them.
However, the Yakutats do not often see tourists, who, heaven knows, are not one of the novelties of the Sitkans' lives.
According to Lieutenant G. T. Emmons, who is the highest authority on Thlinkit Indians, not only so far as their basketry is concerned, but their history, habits, and customs, as well, nine-tenths of all their basketwork is of the open, cylindrical type which throws the chief wear and strain upon the borders. These are, therefore, of greater variety than those of any other Indians, except possibly the Haidahs.
As I have elsewhere stated, nearly all Thlinkit baskets are of the twined weave, which is clearly described by Otis Tufton Mason in his precious and exquisite work, "Aboriginal American Basketry"; a work which every student of basketry should own. If anything could be as fascinating as the basketry itself, it would be this charmingly written and charmingly illustrated book.
Basketry is either hand-woven or sewed. Hand-woven work is divided into checker work, twilled work, wicker work, wrapped work, and twined work. Sewed work is called coiled basketry.
Twined work is found on the Pacific Coast from Attu to Chile, and is the most delicate and difficult of all woven work. It has a set of warp rods, and the weft elements are worked in by two-strand or three-strand methods. Passing from warp to warp, these weft elements are twisted in half-turns on each other, so as to form a two-strand or three-strand twine or braid, and usually with a deftness that keeps the glossy side of the weft outward.
"The Thlinkit, weaving," says Lieutenant Emmons, "sits with knees updrawn to the chin, feet close to thebody, bent-shouldered, with the arms around the knees, the work held in front. Sometimes the knees fall slightly apart, the work held between them, the weft frequently held in the mouth, the feet easily crossed. The basket is held bottom down. In all kinds of weave, the strands are constantly dampened by dipping the fingers in water." The finest work of Attu and Atka is woven entirely under water. A rude awl, a bear's claw or tooth, are the only implements used. The Attu weaver has her basket inverted and suspended by a string, working from the bottom down toward the top.
Almost every part of plants is used—roots, stems, bark, leaves, fruit, and seeds. The following are the plants chiefly used by the Thlinkits: The black shining stems of the maidenhair fern, which are easily distinguished and which add a rich touch; the split stems of the brome-grass as an overlaying material for the white patterns of spruce-root baskets; for the same purpose, the split stem of bluejoint; the stem of wood reed-grass; the stem of tufted hair-grass; the stem of beech-rye; the root of horsetail, which works in a rich purple; wolf moss, boiled for canary-yellow dye; manna-grass; root of the Sitka spruce tree; juice of the blueberry for a purple dye.
The Attu weaver uses the stems and leaves of grass, having no trees and few plants. When she wants the grass white, it is cut in November and hung, points down, out-doors to dry; if yellow be desired, as it usually is, it is cut in July and the two youngest full-grown blades are cut out and split into three pieces, the middle one being rejected and the others hung up to dry out-doors; if green is wanted, the grass is prepared as for yellow, except that the first two weeks of curing is carried on in the heavy shade of thick grasses, then it is taken into the house and dried. Curing requires about a month, during which time the sun is never permitted to touch the grass.
Ornamentation by means of color is wrought by the use of materials which are naturally of a different color; by the use of dyed materials; by overlaying the weft and warp with strips of attractive material before weaving; by embroidering on the texture during the process of manufacture, this being termed "false" embroidery; by covering the texture with plaiting, called imbrication; by the addition of feathers, beads, shells, and objects of like nature.
Some otherwise fine specimens of Atkan basketry are rendered valueless, in my judgment, by the present custom of introducing flecks of gaily dyed wool, the matchless beauty of these baskets lying in their delicate, even weaving, and in their exquisite natural coloring—the faintest old rose, lavender, green, yellow and purple being woven together in one ravishing mist of elusive splendor. So enchanting to the real lover of basketry are the creations of those far lonely women's hands and brains, that they seem fairly to breathe out their loveliness upon the air, as a rose.
This basketry was first introduced to the world in 1874, by William H. Dall, to whom Alaska and those who love Alaska owe so much. Warp and weft are both of beach grass or wild rye. One who has never seen a fine specimen of these baskets has missed one of the joys of this world.
The Aleuts perpetuate no story or myth in their ornamentation. With them it is art for art's sake; and this is, doubtless, one reason why their work draws the beholder spellbound.
The symbolism of the Thlinkit is charming. It is found not alone in their basketry, but in their carvings in stone, horn, and wood, and in Chilkaht blankets. The favorite designs are: shadow of a tree, water drops, salmon berry cut in half, the Arctic tern's tail, flaking of the flesh ofa fish, shark's tooth, leaves of the fireweed, an eye, raven's tail, and the crossing. It must be confessed that only a wild imagination could find the faintest resemblance of the symbols woven into the baskets to the objects they represent. The symbol called "shadow of a tree" really resembles sunlight in moving water.
With the Haidah hats and Chilkaht blankets, it is very different. The head, feet, wings, and tail of the raven, for instance, are easily traced. In more recent basketry the swastika is a familiar design. Many Thlinkit baskets have "rattly" covers. Seeds found in the crops of quail are woven into these covers. They are "good spirits" which can never escape; and will insure good fortune to the owner. Woe be to him, however, should he permit his curiosity to tempt him to investigate; they will then escape and work him evil instead of good, all the days of his life.
In Central Alaska, the basketry is usually of the coiled variety, coarsely and very indifferently executed. Both spruce and willow are used. From Dawson to St. Michael, in the summer of 1907, stopping at every trading post and Indian village, I did not see a single piece of basketry that I would carry home. Coarse, unclean, and of slovenly workmanship, one could but turn away in pity and disgust for the wasted effort.
The Innuit in the Behring Sea vicinity make both coiled and twined basketry from dried grasses; but it is even worse than the Yukon basketry, being carelessly done,—the Innuit infinitely preferring the carving and decorating of walrus ivory to basket weaving. It is delicious to find an Innuit who never saw a glacier decorating a paper-knife with something that looks like a pond lily, and labelling it Taku Glacier, which is three thousand miles to the southeastward. I saw no attempt on the Yukon, nor on Behring Sea, at what Mr. Mason calls imbrication,—thebeautiful ornamentation which the Indians of Columbia, Frazer, and Thompson rivers and of many Salish tribes of Northwestern Washington use to distinguish their coiled work. It resembles knife-plaiting before it is pressed flat. This imbrication is frequently of an exquisite, dull, reddish brown over an old soft yellow. Baskets adorned with it often have handles and flat covers; but papoose baskets and covered long baskets, almost as large as trunks, are common.
There was once a tide in my affairs which, not being taken at the flood, led on to everlasting regret.
One August evening several years ago I landed on an island in Puget Sound where some Indians were camped for the fishing season. It was Sunday; the men were playing the fascinating gambling game of slahal, the children were shouting at play, the women were gathered in front of their tents, gossiping.
In one of the tents I found a coiled, imbricated Thompson River basket in old red-browns and yellows. It was three and a half feet long, two and a half feet high, and two and a half wide, with a thick, close-fitting cover. It was offered to me for ten dollars, and—that I should live to chronicle it!—not knowing the worth of such a basket, I closed my eyes to its appealing and unforgettable beauty, and passed it by.
But it had, it has, and it always will have its silent revenge. It is as bright in my memory to-day as it was in my vision that August Sunday ten years ago, and more enchanting. My longing to see it again, to possess it, increases as the years go by. Never have I seen its equal, never shall I. Yet am I ever looking for that basket, in every Indian tent or hovel I may stumble upon—in villages, in camps, in out-of-the-way places. Sure am I that I should know it from all other baskets, at but a glance.
I knew nothing of the value of baskets, and I fanciedthe woman was taking advantage of my ignorance. While I hesitated, the steamer whistled. It was all over in a moment; my chance was gone. I did not even dream how greatly I desired that basket until I stood in the bow of the steamer and saw the little white camp fade from view across the sunset sea.
The original chaste designs and symbols of Thlinkit, Haidah, and Aleutian basketry are gradually yielding, before the coarse taste of traders and tourists, to the more modern and conventional designs. I have lived to see a cannery etched upon an exquisitely carved paper-knife; while the things produced at infinite labor and care and called cribbage-boards are in such bad taste that tourists buying them become curios themselves.
The serpent has no place in Alaskan basketry for the very good reason that there is not a snake in all Alaska, and the Indians and Innuit probably never saw one. A woman may wade through the swampiest place or the tallest grass without one shivery glance at her pathway for that little sinuous ripple which sends terror to most women's hearts in warmer climes. Indeed, it is claimed that no poisonous thing exists in Alaska.
The tourist must not expect to buy baskets farther north than Skaguay, where fine ones may be obtained at very reasonable prices. Having visited several times every place where basketry is sold, I would name first Dundas, then Yakutat, and then Sitka as the most desirable places for "shopping," so far as southeastern Alaska is concerned; out "to Westward," first Unalaska and Dutch Harbor, then Kodiak and Seldovia.