Here, too, is the accustomed multiplicity of tribes, each with its idiom, and sometimes differing in religious superstition, especially on the grave question of descent from the dog or the crow. There is also a prevailing usage for the men of one tribe to choose wives from another tribe, when the tribal character of the mother attaches to the offspring, which is another illustration of the Law of Slavery, Partus sequitur ventrem. The late departure from this usage is quoted by the old men as a sufficient reason for the mortality which has afflicted the Kenaians, although a better reason is found in the ravages of the small-pox, unhappily introduced by the Russians. In 1838, ten thousand persons on the coast are reported victims to this disease.
(4.) Last of the four races are the Koloschians, numbering about 4,000, who occupy the coast and islands from the mouth of the Copper River to the southern boundary of Russian America, making about sixteen settlements. They belong to an Indian group extending as far south as the Straits of Fuca, and estimated to contain 25,000 souls. La Pérouse, after considerable experience of the aborigines on the Atlantic coast, asserts that those he saw here are not Esquimaux.[79] The name seems to be of Russian origin, and is equivalent to Indian. Here again is another variety of language, and as many separate nations. Near Mount St. Elias are the Yakutats, who are the least known; then come the Thlinkits, occupying the islands and coast near Sitka, and known in Oregon under the name of Stikines; and then again we have the Kygans, who, beginning on Russian territory, overlap Queen Charlotte’s Island, beneath the British flag. All these, with their subdivisions, are Koloschians; but every tribe or nation has four different divisions, derived from four different animals, the whale, the eagle, the crow, and the wolf, which are so many heraldic devices, marking distinct groups.
Points already noticed in the more northern groups are repeated here. As among the Kenaians, husband and wife are of different animal devices. A crow cannot marry a crow. There is the same skill in the construction of canoes; but the stretched seal-skin gives place to the trunk of a tree shaped and hollowed, so that it sometimes holds forty persons. There are good qualities among Aleutians which the Koloschians do not possess; but the latter have, perhaps, stronger sense. They are of constant courage. As daring navigators they are unsurpassed, sailing six or seven hundred miles in open canoes. Some are thrifty, and show a sense of property. Some have developed an aptitude for trade unknown to their northern neighbors, or to the Indians of the United States, and will work for wages, whether in tilling the ground or other employment. Their superior nature discards corporal punishment, even for boys, as an ignominy not to be endured. They believe in a Creator, and in the immortality of the soul. But here a mystic fable is woven into their faith. The spirits of heroes dead in battle are placed in the sky, and appear in the Aurora Borealis. Long ago a deluge occurred, when the human family was saved in a floating vessel, which, after the subsidence of the waters, struck on a rock and broke in halves. The Koloschians represent one half of the vessel, and the rest of the world the other half. Such is that pride of race which civilization does not always efface.
For generations they have been warriors, prompt to take offence, and vindictive, as is the nature of the Indian race,—always ready to exact an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. This character has not changed. As was the case once in Italy, the dagger is an inseparable companion. Private quarrels are common. The duel is an institution. So is slavery still,—having a triple origin in war, purchase, or birth. The slave is only a dog, and must obey his master in all things, even to taking the life of another. He is without civil rights; he cannot marry or possess anything; he can eat only offal; and his body, when released by death, is thrown into the sea. A chief sometimes sacrifices his slaves, and then another chief seeks to outdo his inhumanity. All this is indignantly described by Sir Edward Belcher and Sir George Simpson. But a slave once a freedman has all the rights of a Koloschian. Here, too, are the distinctions of wealth. The rich paint their faces daily; the poor renew the paint only when the colors begin to disappear.
These are the same people who for more than a century have been a terror on this coast. It was Koloschians who received the two boats’ crews of the Russian discoverer in 1741, as they landed in one of its wooded coves, and no survivor returned to tell their fate. They were actors in another tragedy at the beginning of the century, when the Russian fort at Sitka was stormed and its defenders put to death, some with excruciating torture. Lisiansky, whose visit was shortly afterward, found them “a shrewd and bold, though a perfidious people,” whose chiefs used “very sublime expressions,” and swore oaths, like that of Demosthenes, “by their ancestors, by relatives living and dead, and called heaven, earth, the sun, moon, and stars to witness for them, particularly when they meant to deceive.”[80] According to D’Wolf, “both sexes are expert in the use of fire-arms,” and he saw them bathing in the sea with the thermometer below freezing, running over the ice, and “performing all manner of antics with the same apparent enjoyment as if it had been a warm spring.”[81] The fort has been repeatedly threatened by these warriors, who multiply by reinforcements from the interior, so that the governor in 1837 reported, that, “although seven hundred only were now in the neighborhood, seven thousand might arrive in a few hours.”[82] A little later their character was recognized by Sir George Simpson, when he pronounced them “numerous, treacherous, and fierce,” in contrast with Aleutians, whom he describes as “peaceful even to cowardice.”[83] And yet this fighting race is not entirely indocile, if we may credit recent report, that its warriors are changing to traders.
3. Climate.—From Population I pass to Climate, which is more important, as it is a constant force. Climate is the key to this whole region. It is the governing power which rules production and life, for Nature and man must each conform to its laws. Here at last the observations of science give to inquiry a solid support.
Montesquieu has some famous chapters on the influence of climate over customs and institutions.[84] Conclusions regarded in his day as visionary or far-fetched are now unquestioned truth. Climate is a universal master. But nowhere, perhaps, does it appear more eccentric than in the southern portion of Russian America. Without a knowledge of climatic laws, the weather here would seem like a freak of Nature. But a brief explanation shows how all its peculiarities are the result of natural causes which operate with a force as unerring as gravitation. Heat and cold, rain and fog, to say nothing of snow and ice, which play such a part, are not abnormal, but according to law.
This law has been known only of late years. Even so ingenious an inquirer as Captain Cook notices the mildness of the climate, without attempting to account for it. He records, that, in his opinion, “cattle might subsist in Oonalaska all the year round without being housed”;[85] and this was in latitude 53° 52´, on the same parallel with Labrador, and several degrees north of Quebec; but he stops with a simple statement of the suggestive fact. This, however, was inconsistent with the received idea at the time. A geographer, who wrote a few years before Cook sailed, has a chapter in which, assuming that the climate of Quebec continues across the continent, he argues that America is colder than Asia. I refer to the “Mémoires Géographiques” of Engel.[86] He would have been astonished, had he seen the revelations of an isothermal map, showing precisely the reverse: that the climate of Quebec does not continue across the continent; that the Pacific coast of our continent is warmer than the corresponding Atlantic coast; and that America is warmer than Asia, so far at least as can be determined by the two opposite coasts. Such is the truth, of which there are plentiful signs. The Flora on the American side, even in Behring Strait, is more vigorous than that on the Asiatic side, and the American mountains have less snow in summer than their Asiatic neighbors. Among many illustrations of the temperature, I know none more direct than that furnished by the late Hon. William Sturgis, of Boston,—who was familiar with the Northwest Coast at the beginning of the century,—in a lecture on the Oregon question in 1845. After remarking that the climate there is “altogether milder and the winter less severe than in corresponding latitudes on this side the continent,” he proceeds to testify, that, as a proof of its mildness, he had “passed seven winters between the latitudes of 51° and 57°, frequently lying so near the shore as to have a small cable fast to the trees upon it, and only once was his ship surrounded by ice sufficiently firm to bear the weight of a man.”[87] But this intelligent navigator assigns no reason. To the common observer it seemed as if the temperature grew milder, travelling with the sun until it dipped in the ocean.
Among authorities open before me I quote two, which show that this difference of temperature between the Atlantic and Pacific coasts was imagined, if not actually recognized, during the last century. Portlock, the Englishman, who was on the coast in 1786, after saying that during stormy and unsettled weather the air had been mild and temperate, remarks that he is “inclined to think that the climate here is not so severe as has been generally supposed.”[88] La Pérouse, the Frenchman, whose visit was the same year, having been before in Hudson’s Bay, on the other side of the continent, says still more explicitly, “The climate of this coast seemed to me infinitely milder than that of Hudson’s Bay, in the same latitude. We measured pines six feet in diameter and a hundred and forty feet high; those of the same species at Fort Prince of Wales and Fort York are of a dimension scarcely sufficient for studding-sail booms.”[89] Langsdorff, when at Sitka in 1805-6, was much with D’Wolf, the American navigator, and records the surprise of the latter “at finding the cold less severe in Norfolk Sound than at Boston, Rhode Island, and other provinces of the United States, which lie more to the south.”[90] D’Wolf, in his own work, says: “January brought cold, but not severe weather”; and in February, the weather, though “rather more severe than the previous month,” was “by no means so cold as in the United States, latitude 42°.”[91]