was repeated, the man in charge of the tobacco placed in the fire a pipefull of the fragrant weed. Respect to the departed having been paid, the living were soon wrapped in clouds of their own making, and silence, broken only by grunts indicative of comfort, fell upon the dusky crowd. Pipes over, a song began, during which a large portion of the younger people, men and women, quietly passed out one by one; not to remain, however, but to dress for the grand climax of the evening. Fifteen minutes elapsed, and they began to return in small groups, all squatting down this time on one side of the house. Soon a song was heard in the adjacent house, and the hitherto silent crowd became loud and wild with excitement and expectation, for those who were to dance had kept secret their costume, song and order, and were about to make the grand entree. Louder and louder swelled the song. The boy at the drum gave place to a man, who spared neither himself nor the box; strips of wood were clapped together, and staffs pounded upon the floor, while the procession left the house where it had formed, and advanced in single file. Soon its head was at the door-a moment more, within. First came two Indians en character as savage "Toodles." By long practice in the reality, they were enabled to do the intoxicated with great fidelity. They paused a moment on the threshold, and then staggeringly gave place to the next couple, who were clad in mountain goat skins, and wore masks, the first staring blankly at the audience, and the second endeavoring-apparently without the least success-to impart to his leader some wonderful intelligence. They do this sort of thing well, and the house was soon in an uproar of laughter. Directly, they joined their drunken predecessors, who still kept up their parts in the empty side of the house; and two more entered in the same way, and were followed in turn by others, until the funny part of the performers were all in. Now rose a shriller strain: an Indian chief, in blanket, feathers, and paint, appeared at the door. In he came with a bound, a huge knife in his hand; and half squatting, with joints rigid, performed a series of short leaps, turning his head rapidly from side to side, while his eyes blazed with excitement, and guttural accents issued from his mouth, in amazing force and numbers. He, too, gave place; and two elderly women, wives of the chief, with curious head dresses of feathers, porcupine quills, shells, etc., a hundred ermine skins dangling from their heads and shoulders, and bearing in their hands wands trimmed with cloth, advanced and weaved sideways to the music for a brief space. Then two young men, with paddles, endeavored with great vigor to look fiercer, jump higher, and come down stiffer legged than the chief had done. Next, two young women, with faces "stunningly" painted, and persons gaudily bedecked, stepped forward, wand in hand, and sailed in, elevating, with a jerk, the right hip and foot several times in quick succession; then changing to the left, meantime keeping their heads as immovable as possible-all of which attracted the earnest attention of the Indian youth, and elicited warm applause. Thus they continued to enter and give place, each bearing some common article— the men with guns, pistols, knives, and paddles; the women with wands-until all the dancers, some twenty or thirty in number, were in the house. I must not forget to mention two little girls, aged about three years, who, wand in hand, managed to distort their diminutive forms in the most approved fashion—an exhibition of precocity that met with unbounded admiration. All having arrived, their side of the house presented an animated appearance. Each of the actors strove to outdo the others. The drunken men became drunker; blank face, blanker; intelligence-man more strenuous in his efforts to impart his news; the chief more powerful in his exertions; and the youngsters, men and women, all doing their utmost. Suddenly every motion ceased, and every sound was stilled, while the master of ceremonies, in a grave, even voice, announced the performance at an end. Quietly the people slipped away, and the dance was done. The next morning, A-quil-hut caused his men to work the canoe and carry the cargo over the portage of nearly a mile, and volunteered, himself, to pilot ine for half a day. Opposite the bluff on which the village stands, for over half a mile, the left bank of the river rises nearly twenty-five feet, and then forms an extensive plain, stretching back as far as one can see, the most desolate spot my eyes ever looked upon. Beyond question, it was once an immense stream of molten lava, which, cooling, cracked into a myriad of fissures. Its gray and barren surface, devoid of a vestige of vegetable growth, is quite impassable. The chief, calling my attention to this, the rapids, and the location of his stronghold, assured me, with no small degree of pride, that whoso passed up or down must first have his permission. So honey-combed was the lava bank, that near the level of the river an almost constant sheet of water oozes forth and falls into the stream. At its upper margin, a clear, strong tributary falls into the Nass. The Indians say that it has its rise in a 'ake in the lava beds. The water is quite warm, does not freeze in winter, and is said to contain salmon the year round. Here, there is a pass in the mountains extending to the Skeena, distant four days' travel, two of which are over the lava. Loaded once more, we held away up stream, again about one hundred and fifty yards across. The current was very strong, and right manfully did my new-found friend wield his setting-pole in the bow. He accompanied us about seven miles, till the worst water was passed, and then, with many expressions of friendship, took his leave, happy in the possession of such presents as we tendered him. The valley now widened to ten or fifteen miles, mostly timbered, though occasional small prairies were seen. The river banks were gravelly, and from ten to twenty feet high; the stream broader and less swift. We passed several small branches on the left, and a large one on the right. The day was showery, and the distance traveled about ten miles-general direction N. E. Near night we arrived at the village of Kil-ack-tam or Kil-a-tam-acks, beautifully located on a bold bluff, on the right bank of the river, one of the finest Indian towns I ever saw. It contained thirty houses, and had a population of about six hundred. The principal chief, Mus-keboo (Wolf), welcomed me at his home during my two days' stay. So far as I could learn, four whites had previously visited the village-Hudson Bay Company officers, and explorers in the employ of the Collins Russian-American Telegraph. No one has published any account of the vicinity of which I am aware. My host's house, an unusually good one, was built on the plan prevailing generally among the aborigines of British Columbia and Alaska, which it may be well to describe. At the four corners of a square space of level ground, timbers, deeply grooved on the sides facing each other, are firmly planted, rising some ten feet above the surface of the soil. At intervals along the lines, similar timbers, of proper height, grooved on the edges, are erected. Thick planks, split with wooden wedges from spruce or cedar logs, and cut to right dimensions, are slipped into the grooves, one on top of the other, till the walls are formed. Just within the walls at each end of the building, equidistant from the sides to the central line, two large uprights are solidly fixed, saddled at the tops to receive the main supports of the roof. These sup ports consist of two immense spars, hewn perfectly sound and true, and extending the whole length of the structure. When raised and placed in position, their great weight causes them to remain in situ. Round poles are used for rafters. Their butts rest upon the walls, and project to form the eaves; their centers are upon the spars, and the tops are notched together to form the ridge. Other poles are laid across the rafters, and the whole covered with sheets of bark, lapped to shed rain, and kept in place by heavy stones. The ends are then finished to the gable. The pitch of the roof is very low. In the center of the ridge a large square hole is made to serve in lieu of chimney, and is covered by a raised movable shelter that can be shifted, as the wind changes, to make it draw well. The floor is planked, leaving a large opening in the center over which to build the fires. No partitions are used; each dweller has a portion of the space allotted him, in accordance with his importance in the tribe. The best and warmest part, that opposite the door, is reserved for the chief. Each house affords plenty of room for from twenty to fifty persons, sometimes for many more. Some of the planks are very large. One in Mus ke-boo's dwelling measured fiftyfour feet in length, four feet one inch in width, and five inches in thickness. In front of most of these houses a pole is raised, sometimes sixty feet high, carved from base to tip with grotesque designs, and surmounted with the owner's crest. More rarely several houses have but one pole, centrally located. In either case, those of a crest own the houses in common, and form independent tribes, having power to make peace or war without involving their neighbors. Usually each village elects from the heads of the various houses some one who is called the "Chief of Chiefs," and who has a nominal authority outside of his proper crest. The principal crests are the eagle, bear, wolf, crow, stork, and killer. Even among tribes speaking widely different tongues they are substantially the same both in British Columbia and Alaska. Indians traveling to strange villages go to their own crest, and are received as brothers, though never known before. No man and woman of the same crest can marry. All children take the crest of their mother. The houses, though somewhat dark, are exceedingly comfortable. The door, a small one, is in the center of the front end and is often circular. In some cases the crest pole is pierced near its base, and entrance to the house is made through the opening. The country about Kil-ack-tam was very attractive at that season. Within a mile both up and down the river, the Indians had little gardens planted with potatoes, which do well there. They were not enclosed, and were of whatever shape and size their owners pleased, no two alike. The trails leading to them twisted and turned, as only an Indian trail can, leading through thickets of sweetbriar in bloom, patches of wild pea-vine, swamps, meadows, groves, and prairies, in whose deep, rich soil cranberries, huckleberries, strawberries, salmonberries, soap-oolaly, and many other kinds of berries grew in great profusion. While we remained there, several canoes laden with grease came up the river and passed on. My boy, Ta-kesh, required constant checking to keep him out of difficulty; for he entertained the utmost contempt for the Nasscars, and was at great pains to show it. Clah, who was in some way related to Mus-ke-boo, prevailed on me to engage him to accompany us to Kis-py-aux, on the Skeena. He was a splendid savage, about twenty-five years of age, six foot two in height, straight as an arrow, swift, wiry, enduring, and supple as a panther. His bold and piercing eye, large, firm, and well-shaped mouth, strong, white, and even teeth, square jaw, straight, well-set nose, full brows, thick, long, coal-black hair, skin of bronze, and expression of stern dignity, made him a picture of manly beauty, and the most perfect type of his race that I have ever met. On the afternoon of July 5th we left Kilack-tam, and ascended the river three miles to the point where the great Grease Trail begins. Above this the current flows like a mill-race through steep banks of slate, and is too swift for any craft to ride, much less to stem. We camped here. Near by were a number of Nasscar families, preparing to take the trail with loads of grease. It is borne upon the back by means of a thong fastened to the boxes, and dividing into two parts, one of which passes across the chest and the points of the shoulders, and the other over the forehead, so that by alternately leaning forward and backwards the strain can be shifted and the parts rested in turn. Every member of the family that can walk carries a burden. One hundred and twenty pounds is called a load for an adult-man or woman-and each age has its proportionate weight. Those who have brought the grease up the river transport it a certain distance on the trail, where they are met by Indians from the interior, who buy it from them to trade it in turn to others at the confines of their territory. Each tribe is exceedingly jealous of its privileges, and it is only on rare occasions that a member of one is allowed to pass through the territory of another. Ten miles is considered a day's journey. None of the interiors are permitted to own a canoe, and they are called Stick-siwash, or snow shoe men, in contradistinction to the coast and river Indians, who are named Saltchuck, or canoe-men. Between them is a constant rivalry-the first striving to open direct communication with the coast and its trading-posts, the last trying by every means to prevent such a consummation. Being far the most warlike, and having much better arms, the canoe men have hitherto carried their point. Thus it will be seen that monopolies are an important factor even in this primitive commerce. The distance by the trail to Skeena was estimated by me to be one hundred and twenty-eight miles: following the Nass in a direction almost north for twenty-four miles; thence up a branch, the Harkan, to the divide, forty-two miles to the northeast; and then down the valley of the Kis-py-aux to the Skeena, sixty-two miles, nearly east. Over this I traveled by easy stages. The sun rose before three and set after nine. Some nights it was hardly dark at all. Often we camped in places of great natural beauty, and I spent many happy hours listening to Indian stories about the camp-fire, or, lying on a bed of cedar branches, inhaling the spicy breath of woods, sank into that restful slumber that comes of healthful toil. The trail was a constant source of interest. Daily we passed parties bending under their burdens, or met others hurrying back to seek a load. This highway is broad and clear and very old. One is almost never out of sight of an Indian grave, marking the spot where some weary mortal had, indeed, put off his burden. Many were old and mouldering, but here and there were fresher ones, some yet decked with mourning offerings. All vestige of an ordinary grave is gone in fifty years. Sweat-houses were built at frequent intervals, where, with a cup of water and a few heated stones, the tired native might assuage his aching limbs by a steam bath. Rude huts of bark afford shelter to him who needs it, and large sheds built of the same material mark the spots where different tribes meet to trade. Bridges span the wider streams; one, a suspension crossing the Har-keen, built long ago, replacing a still older one, has a clear The daily routine was as follows: We broke span of ninety-two feet. It is located at a camp early. I would walk briskly until point where opposing cliffs form natural sufficiently in advance to keep a look-out for abutments, and is thus constructed : From game. No one except myself killed anything each bank two tapering logs, parallel to each on the journey, nor did we once lack for other-some ten feet apart and with points meat. The game was made up of grouse elevated to an angle of ten degrees-are and several kinds of water-fowl. The vicin- pushed out over the stream towards each ity of the trail was deserted by moose-cari- other as far as their butts will serve as a counbou and bear, which are plentiful in undis- terpoise. Then two more are shoved out turbed localities. After enough game for between the first, but nearer together and the needs of the party was procured, and a almost horizontal. The ends on shore are suitable spot arrived at, I would wait till the then secured by piling logs and stones upon others came up, when the mid-day meal them. Then a man crawls out to the end would be eaten and a long rest taken. Re of one of the timbers, and throws a line to suming the march, we completed the desired another in the same position opposite. A distance and camped early, making every- light pole is hauled into place, lashed sething as comfortable as possible for the night. curely, and that arch completed. The three The weather was fine, only one rainy day, remaining sets of timbers are treated in the and though sometimes the heat was great, same manner. The upper and lower arches it was generally cool enough for comfort. are then fastened together by poles, cross pieces put in, foot-plank laid, and hand-rail bound in proper position to steady the traveler in crossing the vibrating, swaying structure. No bolt, nail, or pin is used from first to last. Strips of bark and tough, flexible roots form all the fastenings. In one place the trail leads over the top of a hill denuded of soil, and is worn deeply into the solid granite by the feet of succeeding generations. It branches in a number of places. One, explored by Mr. Peter Leech, of Victoria, in the winter of '66-'67, leads up the Nass, and thence to the Stickeen river; the others go no civilized man knows whither. I followed one of them half a day, to visit a village never before seen by a white. Mus-ke-boo told me that two white men had crossed before me from the Nass to the Skeena. These trails are traveled at all seasons of the year; in the winter on snow-shoes. The country was rolling, diversified with woodland and prairie. Lakes and streams teemed with trout and salmon. Meadows, rich with nutritious grasses, lay warm to the summer sun, and in the swamps and uplands berries grew in great variety and profusion. In short, this region is capable of supporting a large population by pursuits of agriculture and stock-raising. Soon after crossing the divide between the Harkan and Kis-py-aux, we struck the end of the completed portion of the RussianAmerican extension of the Western Union Telegraph. I had the honor of being medi. cal officer of the American division of that expedition, and accompanied the party that built the line; hence, from this point the ground was familiar to me. All the poles were cut down, and the wire removed or tangled among the stumps. It was done by the Indians of the Kis-py-aux, the winter after the line was abandoned, because they fancied that it was the cause of an epidemic of measles, which prevailed among them at the time. Of the striking objects of scenery along the route, the finest was the cañon of the Nass. It is several miles in length, with sides everywhere steep, in places perpendicular, and hundreds of feet in height; the trail winds along the verge and affords many striking views. At one point I dropped a stone, and counted ten before it reached the bottom. From this same place, a mighty cataract was visible on the face of a mountain across the valley on the opposite side of the Nass. Though fully ten miles away, it had the appearance of a large body of water, falling at least five hundred feet. The Indians say that when the wind is favorable, it can be plainly heard from here. The farther inland we went, the more open and level the country became. Yet it was always hilly, even after the snow-capped peaks of the Coast Range were lost to view. Several villages were passed, at all of which we were well received, but were assured at each that the Indians farther on were very bad, and would surely do us harm. These tales, so often repeated, began to have great influence on Ta-kesh. He lost his bold and aggressive bearing, and became subdued. Then he sought to persuade me to turn back. nally, one morning, in the valley of Kis-pyaux, while preparing my breakfast, he was so overcome by the tales of two Harkan Indians, who came into camp, of the ferocity of the people of the village they had just left, that, dropping his frying pan, the poor fellow came and knelt before me with streaming eyes, crying: Fi "Pity me, chief, and let me go back with these; truly I want to see my home; see how my flesh is going because my heart is sick. Let me go to my wife and babies once more. Truly I am afraid." Although he had become a nuisance, I dared not let him go, as he would surely have been killed or enslaved away from my protection. Poor varlet! he was the sorriest shadow of the impudent chap that started with me less than a month before. Mus-ke-boo, on the other hand, was in his glory. He knew every point of the country, and had some story to tell of them all. He had journeyed here in peace; fought for his life there; thrown the strongest man of that village, and distanced the fleetest one of this; in one place, killed an enemy in battle, and in another, got a grievous wound. And Clah, sly Clah, how calmly did he |