CHAPTER IX.THROUGH THE UPPER RAMPARTS.

INDIAN VILLAGE OF KITL-AH-GON IN THE VON WILCZEK VALLEY.

The Yukon River as it widens also becomes very tortuous in many places, and oftentimes a score of miles is traversed along the axis of the stream while the dividers on the map hardly show half a dozen between the same points. In the region about the mouth of the Nordenskiöld River a conspicuous bald butte could be seen directly in front of our raft no less than seven times, on as many different stretches of the river. I called it Tantalus Butte, and was glad enough to see it disappear from sight.

The day we shot the Rink Rapids, and only a few hours afterward, we also saw our first moose plowing through the willow brush on the eastern bank of the stream like a hurricane in his frantic endeavors to escape, an undertaking in which he was completely successful. When first seen by one of the party on the raft, his great broad palmated horns rolling through the top of the willow brake, with an occasional glimpse of his brownish black sides showing, he was mistaken for an Indian running down a path in the brake and swaying his arms in the air to attract our attention. My Winchester express rifle was near me, and as the ungainly animal came into full sight at a place where a little creek put into the stream, up the valley of which it started, I had a fair shot at about a hundred yards; took good aim, pulled the trigger—and the cap snapped,—and I saved my reputation as a marksman by the gun's missing fire. This moose and another about four hundred miles further down the river were the only two we saw in the Yukon Valley, although in the winter they are quite numerous in some districts, when the mosquitoes have ceased their onslaughts.

That same evening—the 12th, we encamped near the first Indian village we had met on the river, and even this was deserted. It is called by them Kitl-ah-gon (meaning the place between high hills), and consists of one log house about eighteen by thirty feet, and a score of thebrush houses usual in this country; that is, three main poles, one much longer than the rest, and serving as a ridge pole on which to pile evergreen brush to complete the house. This brush is sometimes replaced by the most thoroughly ventilated reindeer or moose skin, and in rare cases by an old piece of canvas. Such are the almost constant habitations of these abject creatures. When I first saw these rude brush houses, thrown together without regard to order or method, I thought they were scaffoldings or trellis work on which the Indians, who lived in the log house, used to dry the salmon caught by them during the summer, but my guide, Indianne, soon explained that theory away. In the spring Kitl-ah-gon is deserted by its Indian inmates, who then ascend the river with loads so light that they may be carried on the back. By the time winter approaches they have worked so far away, accumulating the scanty stores of salmon, moose, black bear, and caribou, on which they are to subsist, that they build a light raft from the driftwood strewn along banks of the river, and float toward home, where they live in squalor throughout the winter. These rafts are almost their sole means of navigation from the Grand Cañon to old Fort Selkirk, and the triangular brush houses almost their only abodes; and all this in a country teeming with wood fit for log-houses, and affording plenty of birch bark from which can be made the finest of canoes. Kitl-ah-gon is in a beautiful large valley, as its Indian name would imply (I named it Von Wilczek Valley, after Graf von Wilczek of Vienna), and I was surprised to see it drained by so small a stream as the one, but ten or twenty feet wide, which empties itself at the valley's mouth. Its proximityto the Pelly, twenty miles further on, forbids its draining a great area, yet its valley is much the more conspicuous of the two. Photographs of this and adjacent scenes on the river were secured by Mr. Homan before departing, and a rough "prospect" in the high bank near the river showed "color" enough to encourage the hope of some enthusiastic miner in regard to finding something more attractive. Looking back up the Yukon a most prominent landmark is found in a bold bluff that will always be a conspicuous point on the river, and which is shown on page193. I named this bluff after General Charles G. Loring, of the Boston Museum of Fine Arts.

UPPER END OF THE INGERSOL ISLANDS.(Looking down the river from Von Wilczek Valley).

UPPER END OF THE INGERSOL ISLANDS.

(Looking down the river from Von Wilczek Valley).

From Von Wilczek valley to old Fort Selkirk is but a little over twenty miles; and the river is so full of islands in many places that for long stretches we could hardly see both banks at a time, while it was nothing unusual to have both out of sight at points where the islands were most numerous. This cluster of islands (named after Colonel Ingersoll, of Washington), is, I think, situated in the bed of one of the ancient lakes of which I have spoken, although the opinion of a professional geologist would be needed to settle such a matter.

At 3P.M.we reached the site of old Fort Selkirk. All our maps, some half a dozen in number, except one, had placed the site of Selkirk at the junction of the Pelly and Yukon between the two, the single exception noted placing it on the north bank of the Pelly where the streams unite. Noticing this discrepancy I asked Indianne for an explanation, and he told me that neither was correct, but that the chimneys of the old ruins would be found on the south side of the river abouta mile below the junction, and I found him correct, the chimneys being visible fully a mile before we reached them. Here we were on land familiar to the footsteps of white men who had made maps and charts, that rough and rude though they were, were still entitled to respect, and accordingly at this point I considered that my explorations had ceased, although my surveys were continued to the mouth of the river; making the distinction that the first survey only is an exploration, a distinction which I believe is rapidly coming into vogue. Altogether on the Yukon River, this far, there had been taken thirty-four astronomical observations, four hundred and twenty-five with the prismatic compass, and two for variation of compass. I have no doubt that these are sufficiently accurate at least for all practical purposes of geographical exploration in this country, until more exact surveys are demanded by the opening of some industry or commerce, should that time ever come. The total length of this portion of the river just traversed from Haines Mission to Selkirk was five hundred and thirty-nine miles; the total length of the raft journey from its commencement at the camp on Lake Lindeman being four hundred and eighty-seven miles; while we had sailed and "tracked" and rowed across seven lakes for a distance aggregating one hundred and thirty-four miles.

RUINS OF OLD FORT SELKIRK.The sharp bluff across the river, shown between the two right-hand chimneys, is the same figured more closely on page209as being at the mouth of the Pelly

RUINS OF OLD FORT SELKIRK.

The sharp bluff across the river, shown between the two right-hand chimneys, is the same figured more closely on page209as being at the mouth of the Pelly

"In the Upper Ramparts."

Atthe site of old Fort Selkirk commences the Upper Ramparts of the Yukon, or where that mighty stream cuts through the terminal spurs of the Rocky Mountains, a distance of nearly four hundred miles, the first hundred of which, terminating near the mouth of the Stewart River, are almost equal to the Yosemite or Yellowstone in stupendous grandeur.

I was very anxious to determine beyond all reasonable doubt the relative sizes of the two rivers whose waters unite just above old Fort Selkirk, as upon this determination rested the important question whether the Pelly or the Lewis River of the old Hudson Bay traders, who had roughly explored the former, ought to be called the Yukon proper; and in order to settle this point I was fully prepared and determined to make exact measurements, soundings, rate of current and any other data that might be necessary. This information, however, was unnecessary except in a rough form, as the preponderance of the old Lewis River was too evident to the most casual inspection to require any exactness to confirm it.The ratio of their respective width is about five to three, with about the ratio of five to four in depth; the latter, however, being a very rough approximation; the Lewis River being superior in both, and for this reason I abandoned the latter name, and it appears on the map as the Yukon to Crater Lake at its head.

At old Fort Selkirk nothing but the chimneys, three in number—two of them quite conspicuous at some distance—are left standing, the blackened embers scattered around still attesting the manner of its fate. From the careful and substantial manner in which the rubble stone chimneys were constructed, this Hudson Bay Company post was evidently intended to be permanent, and from the complete destruction of all the wood work, the Chilkat Indians, its destroyers, evidently intended that its effacement should be complete. The fate of this post has been alluded to in an earlier part of the narrative. Here we remained two or three days, making an astronomical determination of position, the mean of our results being latitude 62° 45' 46" north, longitude 137° 22' 45" west from Greenwich.

LOOKING INTO THE MOUTH OF THE PELLY RIVER.(The Pelly enters between the black perpendicular bluff and the high hills beyond.)

LOOKING INTO THE MOUTH OF THE PELLY RIVER.

(The Pelly enters between the black perpendicular bluff and the high hills beyond.)

No meteorological observations were taken thus far on the river, the party not being furnished with a complete set of instruments, and our rapid passage through a vast tract of territory making the usefulness to science highly problematical. The nearest point to the Upper Yukon at which regular observations of this character are recorded is the Chilkat salmon-cannery of the North-west Trading Company, on Chilkat Inlet. The two regions are separated by the Kotusk Mountains, a circumstance which makes meteorological inferences very unreliable. Climatology is better represented, however, in regard to the subject of botany. Quite a number of botanical specimens were collected on the Upper Yukon, and have since been placed in the able hands of Professor Watson, curator of the Harvard herbarium, for analysis. While only a partial and crude collection made by an amateur, it has thrown some little light on the general character of the flora, as limited to the river bed, which we seldom quitted in the discharge of our more important duties connected with the main object of the expedition. Professor Watson's report on this small collection will be found in the Appendix.

The extent of the Alaskan expedition of 1883 was so great that I deemed it best to divide the map of its route into convenient sections; and the three subdivisions, the second of which this chapter commences, were made wholly with reference to my own travels. It is therefore not intended in any other way as a geographical division of this great river, although it might not be altogether unavailable or inappropriate for such a purpose. The Middle Yukon, as we called it on our expedition, extends from the site of old Fort Selkirk to old Fort Yukon, atthe great Arctic bend of the Yukon, as it is sometimes and very appropriately termed—a part of the stream which we know approximately from the rough maps of the Hudson Bay Company's traders, who formerly trafficked along these waters, and from information derived from pioneers of the Western Union Telegraph Company and others. This part of the river, nearly five hundred miles in length, had, therefore, already been explored; and to my expedition fell the lot of being the first to give it a survey, which though far from perfection, is the firstworthy of the name, and is, I believe, like that of the Upper Yukon, sufficient to answer all purposes until such time as commerce may be established on the river subservient to the industries, either of mining or of fishing, that may hereafter spring up along its course.

I have just spoken of the comparative sizes of the Pelly and Lewis Rivers, as showing the latter to be undoubtedly the Yukon proper; and the view on page 209, taken looking into the mouth of the Pelly from an island at the junction of the two streams, as well as that on page213, looking back up the Yukon (old Lewis River), from the site of old Selkirk, shows the evident preponderance of the latter, although in the case of the Pelly but one of its mouths, the lower and larger of the two that encircle the island, can be seen distinctly.

The bars at the mouth of the Pelly are a little richer in placer gold "color" than any for a considerable distance on either side along the Yukon, creating the reasonable inference that the mineral has been carried down the former stream, an inference which is strengthened by the reports that gold in paying quantities has been discovered on the Pelly, and is now being worked successfully, although upon a somewhat limited scale. Even the high, flat plateau on which old Fort Selkirk was built is a bed of fine gravel that glistens with grains of gold in the miner's pan, and might possibly "pay" in more favorable climes, where the ground is not frozen the greater part of the year. Little did the old traders of the Hudson's Bay Company imagine that their house was built on such an auriferous soil, and possibly little did they care, as in this rich fur district they possessedan enterprise more valuable than a gold mine, if an American can imagine such a thing.

VIEW LOOKING UP THE YUKON FROM THE SITE OF FORT SELKIRK.

The perpendicular bluff of eruptive rock, distinctly columnar in many places, and with its talus reaching from half to two-thirds the way to the top, as shown in the view looking into the mouth of the Pelly, on page 209, and the view on page205also, extends up that stream on the north or right bank as far as it was visited, some two or three miles, and so continues down the Yukon along the same (north) bank for twelve or thirteen miles, when the encroaching high mountains, forming the upper gates of the ramparts, obliterate it as a later formation. In but one place that I saw along this extended front of rocky parapet was there a gap sufficient to permit of one's climbing from the bottom, over the roughdébris, to the level grassy plateau that extended backward from its crest; although in many places this plateau could be gained by alpine climbing for short distances, up the crevices in the body of the steep rock. This level plateau does not extend far back before the foot of the high rolling hills is gained.

In the illustration on page209the constant barricades of tangled driftwood encountered everywhere on the up-stream ends and promontories of the many islands of these rivers are shown, although the quantity shown in the view falls greatly below the average, the heads of the islands being often piled up with stacks ten or twenty feet high, which are useful in one way, as forming a dam that serves during freshets and high water, to protect them more or less from the eroding power of the rapid river.

A grave or burial place of the Ayan (or Iyan) Indiansprobably some three months old, planted on the very edge of the river bank near the site of old Fort Selkirk, was a type of the many we afterward saw at intervals from this point for about two-thirds of the distance to old Fort Yukon, and is represented on page217. Before burial the body is bent with the knees up to the breast, so as to occupy as little longitudinal space as possible, and is inclosed in a very rough box of hewn boards two and three inches thick, cut out by means of rude native axes, and is then buried in the ground, the lid of the coffin, if it can be called such, seldom being over a foot or a foot and a half below the surface of the pile. The grave's inclosure or fence is constructed of roughly-hewn boards, standing upright and closely joined edge to edge, four corner-posts being prolonged above, and somewhat neatly rounded into a bed-post design represented in the figure, from which they seldom depart. It is lashed at the top by a wattling of willow withes, the lower ends of the boards being driven a short way into the ground, while one or two intermediate stripes of red paint resemble other bands when viewed at a distance. From the grave itself is erected a long, light pole twenty or twenty-five feet in height, having usually a piece of colored cloth flaunting from its top; although in this particular instance the cloth was of a dirty white. Not far away, and always close enough to show that it is some superstitious adjunct of the grave itself, stands another pole of about equal height, to the top of which there is fastened a poorly carved wooden figure of a fish, duck, goose, bear, or some other animal or bird, this being, I believe, a sort of savagetotemdesignating the family or sub-clan of the tribe to which the deceased belonged.

AYAN GRAVE NEAR OLD FORT SELKIRK.Looking across and down the Yukon River.

AYAN GRAVE NEAR OLD FORT SELKIRK.

Looking across and down the Yukon River.

This second pole may be, and very often is, a fine young spruce tree of proper height and shape and convenient situation, stripped of its limbs and peeled of its bark. The little "totem" figure at the top may thus be easily placed in position before the limbs are cut off. It is sometimes constructed as a weather-vane, or more probably it is easier to secure firmly in its position by a wooden pin driven vertically, and so as the green wood seasons and shrinks it becomes as it were a sepulchral anemoscope without having been so intended. These poles may be horizontally striped with native red paint, and the outside pole has one or more pieces of cloth suspended from its trunk. These graves are always near the river shore, generally on the edge of a high gravel bank which is in course of excavation by the swift current, and when fresh and the boards white are visible from a distance of many miles. There is no tendency, as far as I could see, to group them into graveyards, beyond the fact that they are a little more numerous near their semi-permanent villages than elsewhere, the convenience of interment being evidently the controlling cause of location. Leaving out the two high poles, there is a rough resemblance to the graves of civilized countries; and no doubt much of their form and structure is due to the direct or indirect contact with civilization. My own Indians (Chilkats) told me that they formerly placed the bodies of their dead on pole scaffoldings in the branches of the trees near the river bank, somewhat after the manner of the Sioux and other Indian tribes of our great western plains; and in one instance a very old, rotten and dilapidated scaffold in a tree was pointed out to me as having once served that purpose, although there were no indications to confirm the story; but these might have easily been obliterated. They also make small scaffoldings or littlecachesin the lower branches of trees to protect their contents, usually provisions and clothing, from bears, wolves, and possibly from their own dogs, of which they possess large numbers of a black and brown mongrel breed. In the summer time these curs are eminently worthless except as scavengers for the refuse decaying salmon, but in the winter season they are used to draw the rude native sledges and to assist in trailing moose and caribou.

CROSS-SECTION AYAN CANOE PADDLE.

Mr. Homan succeeded in getting a photograph (page221), of a group of Ayan or Iyan Indians, with their birch-bark canoes. We found it very difficult to keep these nervous fellows still; and, as far as fine rendering of features is concerned, the photograph was not perfect. Their birch-bark canoes are the best on any part of the long river for lightness, compactness, and neatness of build and design, and form a most remarkable contrast to the unwieldy dilapidated "dug-outs'" of the Tahk-heesh Indians above them on the Yukon. The Ayan canoe paddle, well shown in outline in the hands of one of the group, is of the cross-section on this page, the ridge or ribrbeing always held to the rear in using it. In addition to the paddle, the canoeman keeps with him two light poles, about as long as the paddle itself, and as heavy as its handle; and these are employed in ascending the river, the pole man keeping near the shallow shores, and using one in each hand on either side of the canoe, poling against the bottom. So swift is the river in these parts (and in factit is extremely rapid during its entire course), that the native canoemen use no other method in ascending it, except for very short distances. The Eskimo method, in use on the lower part of the river, of harnessing dogs to their craft like canal horses and towing them along the banks, I did not see in operation during my stay among the Ayans, although they possessed all the requisites for such an easy and convenient method of navigation. In descending the river the current is the main motive power, especially for long journeys, and the paddle is only sparingly used to keep the canoe in the swiftest part of the stream. When required, however, they can go at a speed that few canoemen in the world, savage or civilized, can equal.

AYAN INDIANS AND THEIR BIRCH-BARK CANOES.

Two species of fish were caught from the banks near the site of Selkirk, the grayling being of the same kind we had caught near the rapids just above and below the Grand Cañon, and had found in varying numbers from Perthes Point in Lake Bove, to the mouth of White River, nearly a hundred miles below Selkirk, averaging a trifle over a pound in weight; and a trout-like salmon, caught occasionally from Lake Nares to White River, sometimes with an artificial fly, but more frequently on the trout lines with baited hooks that were put out over night wherever we camped. A most disgusting and hideous species of eel-pout monopolized our trout lines whenever they were put out at this point, from which even the invincible stomachs of our Indian allies and visitors had to refrain. Small black gnats, somewhat resembling the buffalo gnats of the plains, were observed near Selkirk in considerable numbers, and our Indians hinted that they indicated the presence of large game, a story whichwe would gladly have had corroborated, but in this we were disappointed.

We got away from Selkirk on July 15th, shortly after noontime, having waited for a meridian culmination of the sun in order to take an observation for latitude. The country gradually becomes more mountainous as we descend, and this bold character continues with but slight exceptions for over a hundred miles further. The river view reminded me strongly of the Columbia River near the Cascades, the Hudson at West Point, or the Potomac at Harper's Ferry, differing only in the presence everywhere of innumerable islands, a permanent characteristic of the Yukon, and one in which it exceeds any other stream known to me, whether from observation or description.

Although we had understood from the few Indians who had visited us in their canoes, that their village was but a few miles below Fort Selkirk, we had become so accustomed to finding insignificant parties of natives, here and there, that it was a great surprise to us when we suddenly rounded the lower end of an island about four o'clock that afternoon, and saw from a hundred and seventy-five to two hundred wild savages drawn up ready to receive us on the narrow beach in front of their brush village on the south side of the river. Our coming had evidently been heralded by couriers, and all of the natives were apparently half-frantic with excitement for fear we might drift by without visiting them. They ran up and down the bank wildly swaying their arms in the air, and shouting and screaming to the great fleet of canoes that surrounded us, until I feared they might have unfriendly designs, and in fact, their numbers appearedso overwhelming when compared with our little band that I gave the necessary orders in respect to arms so as to give the Indians as little advantage as possible in case of an encounter at such close quarters. A line was carried ashore by means of these canoes, and every man, woman and child in the crowd made an attempt to get hold of it, the foremost of them running out into the ice-cold water up to the very arm-pits in order to seize it, and the great gridiron of logs went cutting through the water like a steam-launch, and brought up against the shore in a way that nearly took us off our feet.

Immediately after our raft was securely moored, the crowd of Indians who lined the narrow beach commenced singing and dancing—men and boys on the (their) left, and women and girls on the right. The song was low and monotonous, but not melodious, bearing a resemblance to savage music in general. Their outspread hands were placed on their hips, their armsakimbo, and they swayed from side to side as far as their lithe bodies would permit, keeping time to the rude tune in alternate oscillations to the right and left, all moving synchronously and in the same direction, their long black masses of hair floating wildly to and fro, and serving the practical purpose of keeping off the gnats and mosquitoes which otherwise might have made any out-door enjoyments impossible. During all this time the medicine men went through the most hideous gymnastics possible along the front of the line, one who had a blue-black blanket with a St. George's cross of flaming red in its center being especially conspicuous. He excelled in striking theatrical attitudes of the most sensational order, in which the showy blanket was made to do its part, and he was forthwithdubbed Hamlet by the men of the party, by way of a substitute for his almost unpronounceable name. Even after the performance, this pompous individual strutted along the banks as if he owned the whole British North-west territory; a pretension that was contradicted by his persistent begging for every trifling object that attracted his eye, as though he had never owned any thing of value in his life. After the singing and dancing were over, a few trifling presents were given to most of the Indians as a reward for their entertainment. A photograph was attempted by Mr. Homan of this dancing group, but the day was so unfavorable, with its black lowering clouds, the amateur apparatus so incomplete, and the right moment so hard to seize, that the effect was a complete failure. Once or twice we got the long line in position in their best attitudes, "Hamlet" looking his most ferocious, and resembling a spread eagle with the feathers pulled out, but just as the photographer was ready to pull the cap off the camera, some impatient young fellow, inspired by the crowd and the attitude of dancing, would begin to hum their low song of Yi-yi-yi-yi's and it was as impossible to keep the others from taking up the cadence and swaying themselves as it was to arrest the earth's revolution.

From a book written by a previous traveler on the lower river, who pretended to a knowledge of the tribes upon its upper part also, I had been deluded into the idea that useful articles—such as knives, saws, and files,—were the best for trading purposes with these Indians, or for the hire of native help; but I was not long in finding out that this was most gratuitous misinformation; for the constant burden of their solicitations was a requestfor tea and tobacco, small quantities of which they get by barter with intermediate riparian tribes. These wants I found to extend among the natives throughout the whole length of the river in varying degrees, and, as the former article is very light, I would especially recommend it to those about to enter the country for purposes of scientific research, for which it is such a grand field. Next to tea and tobacco, which we could only spare in small quantities, fish-hooks seemed to be in good demand among this particular tribe; and the very few articles they had to spare, mostly horn spoons, and birch-bark ladles and buckets were eagerly exchanged. Below White River, fishing on the Yukon with hook and line ceases, and fish-hooks are worthless as articles of exchange. Another article freely brought us was the pair of small bone gambling-tools (shown on this page) so characteristic of the whole north-west country. They have been described when speaking of the Chilkat Indians and I saw no material difference in theiruseby this particular tribe.

AYAN AND CHILKAT GAMBLING TOOLS. Scale ½.

These Indians call themselves the A-yans—with an occasional leaning of the pronunciation toward I-yan; and this village, so they said, contained the majority of the tribe, although from their understanding of the question they may have meant that it was the largest village of the tribe. Their country, as they claim it, extends up the Pelly—the Indian name of which isAyan—to the lakes, up the Yukon from this point to the village of Kitl-ah-gon, and down that stream to near the mouth of the White and Stewart Rivers, where they are succeeded by a tribe called theNetch-on'-deesorNa-chon'-des—the Indian name of the Stewart River being Na-chon'-de. They are a strictly riparian race of people and define their country only as it extends along the principal streams. From the river as a home or base, however, they make frequent hunting excursions to the interior in the winter time for moose and caribou. This village, which they calledKah-tung, seemed to be of a semi-permanent character; the houses or huts made of spruce brush, over the top of which there was an occasional piece of well-worn cloth or dirty canvas, but more often a moose or caribou skin. These brush houses were squalid affairs, and especially so compared with the bright intelligent features of the makers, and with some of their other handicraft, such as their canoes and native wearing apparel. The little civilized clothing they possess is obtained by barter with neighboring tribes, and has generally been worn out by the latter before they exchange, hence it is tattered and filthy beyond measure, and in no wise so well adapted to their purpose as the native clothing of buckskin. One could hardly stand up in these brush houses, they were built so low, and any attempt to do so was frustrated by the quantities of odoriferous salmon hanging down from the squat roofs, undergoing a process of smoking in the dense clouds that emanated from spruce-knot fires on the floor. These ornaments, coupled with the thick carpeting of live dogs upon the floor, made the outside of the house the most pleasant part of it. The houses were generally double, facing each other, with a narrow aisle a foot or two wide between, each one containing a single family, and being about the area of a common or government A tent. The ridge-poles were common tothe two houses, and as both leaned forward considerably this gave them strength to resist violent winds. The diagram on this page gives a ground plan of an Ayan double brush-house. The village of Kah-tung contained about twenty of these squalid huts, huddled near the river bank, and altogether was the largest Indian village we saw on the whole length of the Yukon River.

PLAN OF AYAN SUMMER HOUSE OF BRUSH.

There was a most decided Hebrew cast of countenance among many of the Ayans; more pronounced, in fact, than I have ever seen among savages, and so much so as to make it a subject of constant remark.

Their household implements were of the most primitive type,—such as spoons of the horn of the mountain goat, very similar to those of the Tlinkits, but by no means so well carved; and a few buckets, pans, and trays of birch-bark, ingeniously constructed of one piece so as not to leak, and neatly sewed with long withes of trailing roots. (The finer thread-like spruce roots, well-boiled, are, I believe, generally used by them in sewing their birch-bark canoes and utensils.)

Their present village was, as I have said, evidently only of a semi-permanent character, used in the summer during the time that salmon were ascending the river to spawn; the bright red sides of this fish, as they were hanging around, split open, forming a not inartistic contrast with the dark green spruce boughs of the houses and surrounding forests; the artistic effect, however, was best appreciated when holding one's nose. Scatteredaround in every direction was a horde of dogs that defied computation, and it must be an immense drain on their commissariat to keep these animals alive let alone in good condition. The amount of active exercise they took, however, would not suffice to reduce them in flesh, for their principal occupation seemed to be unlimited sleep.

KON-IT'L, CHIEF OF THE AYANS.

Although we were not successful in getting a photograph of the long group of dancers, we were more fortunate with a group of the chiefs and medicine-man "Hamlet," from which the portrait on this page, of Kon-it'l, their chief, is taken. It was impossible to get them to face thecamera at such short range until one of the members of the exploring party took his position with them, while Mr. Homan secured the photograph.

The Ayan mothers, instead of carrying their babes on their backs with their faces to the front, as is usually done by savage women, unless when using a cradle, turn them around so as to have them back to back, and carry them so low as to fit as it were into the "small of the back."

AYAN MOOSE ARROW.

Most of the Ayan men, and especially the younger members, were armed with bows and arrows, but there was quite a considerable sprinkling of old flintlock Hudson Bay Company muskets among them, which they had procured by trade many years ago when Fort Selkirk flourished, or by intertribal barter, and their cost to these poor savages was almost fabulous. The Company's manner of selling a gun was to set it upright on the floor of the trader's store, and then to pile up furs alongside of it until they reached the muzzle, when the exchange was made, many of the skins being those of the black and silver-gray fox, and their aggregate value being probably three to four hundred dollars. Their bows and arrows were of the stereotyped Indian make, with no distinguishing ornament or peculiarity of construction worthy of notice.

The moose arrows used by this tribe, shown in illustration on this page, have at the point the usual doublebarb of common arrows, while one side is prolonged for two or three inches into a series of barbs; these latter they claim have the effect of working inward with the motions of the muscles of the animal if it be only wounded. Once wounded in this manner these sleuth-hounds of savages will remain on the trail of a moose for days if need be, until this dreadful weapon has reached a vital point, or so disabled the animal that it easily succumbs to its pursuers. In hunting moose in the summer time, while these animals are swimming across the lakes or broad streams, I was told by one of my interpreters who had often traded among them, and was well acquainted with their habits and customs, that these Ayans (and in fact several tribes below them on the river), do not hesitate to jump on the animals' back in the lake or river, leaving the canoe to look after itself, and dispatch the brute with a hand knife, cutting its throat or stabbing it in the neck as illustrated on page261. Of course, a companion in another canoe is needed to assist in getting the carcass ashore, and secure the hunter's canoe. They often attack the moose in their canoes while swimming as described by previous explorers on the lower river, but say that if by any unskillful movement they should only wound the animal it may turn and wreck their vessel, which is too great a loss for them to risk. A flying moose will not turn in the water unless irritated by wounds. The knives they use in hunting are great double-edged ones, with flaring ornamental handles, well illustrated in the upper left hand corner of the picture mentioned. They tell me these knives are of native manufacture, the handles being wrapped with moose leather so as to give the hand a good grip. Altogether, they are most villainous and piratical looking things.

CROSS-SECTION THROUGH AYAN WINTER TENT.

Only one or two log-cabins were seen anywhere in the Ayan country, and these had the dilapidated air of complete and permanent abandonment, although this whole district of the river is teeming with timber appropriate for such use. Probably the nomadic and restless character of the inhabitants makes it irksome for them to dwell in such permanent abodes, in spite of the great comfort to be derived in their almost Arctic winters from such buildings, if well constructed. The severity of the winter is shown by the moist banks of the river, the appearance of which indicates that they have been frozen some six or eight feet in depth. In winter the Ayans live mostly in tents, but by an ingenious arrangement these ordinarily cold habitations are made reasonably comfortable. This winter tent is shown in cross-section above, I being the interior, and P P the tent poles well covered with moose or caribou skins. A second set of poles, P P, are given a wider spread, inclosing an air space, A S, a foot or two across. These, too, are covered with animal skins, and a thick banking of snow, ss, two or three feet deep is thrown over the outside tent during the coldest weather of winter, making a sort of hybrid between the Eskimoigloo, or snow house, and the Indian skin lodge.

Many of the Ayans were persistent beggars, and next morning, the 16th of July, we got an early start before many of them were about, for as a tribe they did not seem to be very early risers.

Nearly directly opposite the Kah-tung village the perpendicular basaltic bluffs shown in the view at the mouth of the Pelly cease; and from this point on, the hills on both sides of the river were higher and even mountainous in character; "the upper gates of the upper ramparts."

From this point on down through the ramparts small black gnats became annoyingly numerous and pugnacious, while the plague of mosquitoes seemed to abate a little. The mosquito-bars, which were some protection from the latter, were of no use against the former, the little imps sailing right between the meshes without even stopping to crawl through. Veils with the very finest meshes would be needed to repulse their onslaughts, and with these we were not provided.

That day, the 16th, we drifted forty-seven miles, through a most picturesque section of country, our journey being marred only by a number of recurring and disagreeable thunder showers that wet us to the skin.

Everywhere in conspicuous positions near the edge of the river banks we saw straggling and isolated Ayan graves, resembling, in general, the one photographed at Selkirk, and not unlike pretty little white cottages, whenseen from the distance projected against the somber green of the deep spruce forests.

About thirty-four miles beyond old Selkirk a small but conspicuous mountain stream came in from the south, which I named after Professor Selwyn, of Ottawa, Canada.

The river was still full of islands, however, many of which are covered with tall spruce, and look very picturesque in the almost cañon-like river-bottom, the steep mountain sides being nearly devoid of heavy forests.

In one of the many open spaces far up the mountain side, we saw a huge black bear, evidently hunting his daily meal among the roots and berries that there abound. Although we passed within half a mile of him, he took no more notice of us than if our raft had been a floating chip, and we did not disturb his search with any long-range shots.

A little further down, and on the same side of the river, the northern, we saw three white mountain goats on the very highest ridges of the hills. Timid as they are, the only notice they deigned to give us was that such as were asleep roused themselves and stood gazing at us until we had drifted well past, when they began grazing leisurely along the ridge.

About this time our attention was quite forcibly called to a singular phenomenon while riding on the raft, which was especially noticeable on quiet sunny days. It was a very pronounced crackling sound, not unlike that of a strong fire running through dry cedar brush, or that of the first rain drops of a thunder storm falling on the roof of a tent. Some of the men attributed it to the rattling on the logs of the raft of a shower of pebbles brought up by the swift current from underneath, which would have been a good enough theory as far as the sound was concerned; but soundings in such places invariably failed to touch bottom with a sixteen-foot pole, and, moreover, when we were in shallower and swifter waters, where the bottom was pebbly, the sounds were not observed. As the noise always occurred in deep water of a boiling character, figuratively speaking,—or in that agitated condition so common in deep water immediately after a shoal, a condition with which our experience in prying the raft off shoals had rendered us familiar—I attempted to account for it upon the theory explained by the figure just below. The raftx, drifting with the arrow, passes from a shallow to a deep stretch of water. The Yukon River is a very swift stream for its size (we drifted that day, July 16, forty-seven and a half geographical miles in eleven hours and fifty minutes, and even this rate cannot represent the swiftest current), and the pebbles, carried forward over the shallows and reaching the cresta, are borne along by their own inertia and the superficial current, and literallydroppedon a gravel-bank at some point forward, such asb, and, water being so excellent a conductor of sound, an observer on a low floating craft, during quiet days, might distinctly hear this falling, whereas it would not be heard if the pebbles were simply rolling along the bottom in swifter and noisier water. The suddenness with which this crackling commenced and the gradual manner in which it died out, seem to confirm this idea. A series ofsoundings before and after the occurrence of these singular noises would have settled this theory; but the sound recurred so seldom (say twice, or perhaps three times, a day in this part of the river), that it was impossible to predict it in time to put the theory to the test, unless one kept constantly sounding while upon the river. It was observed on the lower river in a much less degree, and probably might there have passed unnoticed if previous experience had not recalled it to our attention.

That evening we camped at 8 o'clock, after trying to conduct our cumbersome vessel to a pretty little spot for the purpose, but our well-used "snubbing" line parted at the critical moment and we drifted down into a most miserable position among the high, rank willow shoots, laden with water from the recent rains. Towing or "tracking" our craft back against the swift current with our small force was plainly out of the question, and as the river bank seemed of the same character, as far as we could see, some two or three miles, we made the best of it and camped, for we were getting used to such experiences by this time.

Next morning, about 7 o'clock, when we were nearly ready to start, we found four Ayan Indians, each in his birch-bark canoe, visiting our camp. They came from the Kah-tung village above, having left it, as they said, shortly after our departure on the preceding day, and had camped for the night on the river just above us. They expressed great surprise at the distance we had made by simple drifting, having until this morning felt certain that they had passed us the day before around some one of the many islands in the broad river. They were going down the river some two or three hundred miles to a whitetrader's store of which they spoke, and we kept passing each other for the next three or four days. They had spoken at the Kah-tung village of this trading station (which we took to be Fort Yukon), which they said they could reach in three days; kindly adding that we might make the distance with our craft in a week or so. They now changed their minds and thought we might only be a day or two behind them. I found that the progress of the raft, when care was taken to keep in the swiftest current, for twelve or fourteen or perhaps sixteen hours a day, with no unusual detentions, fully equaled the average day's journey of the Indian canoes, which remained in the water not more than six or seven hours a day; their occupants stopping to hunt every animal that might be seen, as well as to cook a midday lunch at their leisure. In fact my own Indians, who had traded among them, more than hinted that they were hurrying considerably in order to go along with us and to reach the white trader's store as a portion of our party.

These same four fellows, when they met us on the morning of the 17th, had with them the carcass of a black bear, which they offered for sale or barter; and on our buying one hindquarter, which was about all that we thought we could use before spoiling, they offered us the rest as a gift. We accepted the offer to the extent of taking the other hindquarter, for which we gave them a trifle, whereupon the rest of the carcass was left behind or thrown away on the beach, a circumstance which was explained to us by the fact that all four of these Indians were medicine-men, and as such were forbidden by some superstitious custom from eating bears' flesh. They toldus that the animal was the same black bear we had seen on the northern hillsides of the river the day before.

The morning of the 17th and certain other periods of the day were characterized by a heavy fog-bank, which did not quite reach the river bottom, but cut the hillsides at an altitude of from three hundred to five hundred feet above the level of the stream. The fog gave a dismal and monotonous aspect to the landscape, but proved much better for our physical comfort than the previous day, with its alternating rain and blistering heat. We found these fogs to be very common on this part of the river, being almost inseparable from the southern winds that prevail at this time of the year. I suppose these fogs proceed from the moisture-laden air over the warm Pacific which is borne on the southern winds across the snow-clad and glacier-crowned mountains of the Alaskan coast range, becoming chilled and condensed in its progress, and reaching this part of the Yukon valley is precipitated as rain or fog. The reason that we had escaped the fogs on the lakes was that the wind came across tracts of land to the south, and the hygrometric conditions were different. A little further down the Yukon, but within the upper ramparts, we suffered from almost constant rains that beat with the southern winds upon our backs.

Shortly after one o'clock in the afternoon we floated by the mouth of the White River flowing from the south west, which has the local name of Yú-ko-kon Heena, or Yú-ko-kon River, a much prettier name than the old one of the Hudson Bay traders. The Chilkats call it the Sand River, from the innumerable bars and banks of sand along its course; and many years ago they ascended it by a trail, which when continued leads to their owncountry, but is now abandoned. Some forty to fifty miles up its valley the Indian trading trail which leads from the headwaters of the Tanana to old Fort Selkirk crosses its course at right angles; and since the destruction of Fort Selkirk in 1851, the Tanana Indians, who then made considerable use of the trail to reach the fort for trading purposes, employ it but little; and only then as far as the White River, whose valley they descend to reach the Yukon.

This stream resembles a river of liquid mud of an almost white hue, from which characteristic it is said to have derived its name from the old Hudson Bay traders—and no better illustration of its extreme muddiness can be given than the following: One of our party mistook a mass of timber that had lodged on the up-stream side of a low, flat mud-bar, for floating wood, and regarded it as evidence of a freshet, a theory which seemed corroborated by the muddy condition of the water, until the actual character of the object was established by closer observation as we drifted nearer. The mud-bar and adjacent waters were so entirely of the same color that the line of demarcation was not readily apparent, and had it not been for the drift rubbish around the former it might have escaped our scrutiny even at our short distance from it. The Indians say that the White River rises in glacier-bearing lands, and that it is very swift, and full of rapids along its whole course. So swift is it at its mouth, that as it pours its muddy waters into the rapid Yukon it carries them nearly across that clear blue stream; the waters of the two rivers mingling almost at once, and not running distinct for miles side by side, as is stated in one book on Alaska. From themouth of the White or Yu'-ko-kon to Bering Sea, nearly 1,500 miles, the Yukon is so muddy as to be noticeable even when its water is taken up in the palm of the hand; and all fishing with hook and line ceases.

About four in the afternoon the mouth of the Stewart River was passed, and, being covered with islands, might not have been noticed except for its valley, which is very noticeable—a broad valley fenced in by high hills. A visit to the shore in our canoe showed its mouth to be deltoid in character, three mouths being observed, and others probably existing. Islands were very numerous in this portion of the Yukon, much more so than in any part of the river we had yet visited, and as the raft had drifted on while I went ashore in the canoe, I had a very hard task to find it again and came within a scratch of losing it, having passed beyond the camp, and being compelled to return. It was about nine o'clock in the evening and the low north-western sun shone squarely in our faces, as we descended the river, eagerly looking for the ascending smoke of the camp-fire, which had been agreed upon, before separation, as the signal to be kept going until we returned. The setting sun throwing its slanting rays upon each point of woods that ran from the hillsides down to the water's edge, illumined the top of them with a whitish light until each one exactly resembled a camp-fire on the river bank with the feathery smoke floating off along the tree tops. Even my Indian canoeman was deceived at first, until half a dozen appearing together in sight convinced him of his error. All these islands were densely covered with spruce and poplar, and the swift current cutting into their alluvial banks, though the latter were frozen six or eight feetthick, kept their edges bristling with freshly-fallen timber; and it was almost courting destruction to get under thisabatisof trees with the raft, in the powerful current, to avoid which some of our hardest work was necessary. The preservative power of this constantly frozen ground must be very great, as in many places we saw protruding from the high banks great accumulations of driftwood and logs over which there was soil two and three feet thick, which had been formerly carried by the river, and from which sprung forests of spruce timber, as high as any in sight, at whose feet were rotting trunks that must have been saplings centuries ago. Yet wherever this ancient driftwood had been undermined and washed of its dirt and thrown upon the beach along with the tree but just fallen, the difference between the two was only that the latter still retained its green bark, and its broken limbs were not so abraded and worn; but there seemed to be no essential difference in the fiber of the timber.

The evening of the 17th, having scored forty geographical miles, we camped on a low gravel bar, and bivouacked in the open air so clear and still was the night, although by morning huge drops of rain were falling on our upturned faces.

On the 18th, shortly after noon, we passed a number ofTahk-ongIndians, stretched upon the green sward of the right bank leisurely enjoying themselves; their birch-bark canoes, sixteen in all, being pulled up on the gravel beach in front of them. It was probably a trading or hunting party, there being one person for each canoe, none of whom were women. Already we observed an increase in the size and a greater cumbrousnessin the build of the birch-bark canoes, when compared with the fairy-like craft of the Ayans, a characteristic that slowly increased as we descended the river until thekiak, or sealskin canoe of the Eskimo is encountered along the lower waters of the great river. Of course this change of build reflects no discredit upon the skill of the makers, as a heavier craft is required to navigate the rougher water, as the broad stream is stirred up by the persistent southern winds of the Yukon basin.

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