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 which we 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 appeared so 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 arms akimbo, 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 forthwith dubbed 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 request for 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 their use by 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 is Ayan—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 the Netch-on'-dees or Na-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 called Kah-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 to the 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.