E., Lyons, and I stayed, but this time took up a position near the door so as to occasionally get a little fresh air. The women, drawn up in two rows on the dais on either side, swayed and bobbed, chanting at the pitch of their lungs. They all wore the same dark-blue and scarlet cloak, and had red feathers and worsted in their hair, making a decidedly striking picture. Most of them wore sharks’-teeth earrings, to which they attach an enormous importance, the lowest price we heard of being twelve dollars for a pair. After this a lot of blankets and calico were cut up and given away, and we left them hard at it about five o’clock. As the tide had risen in the meantime, Lyons had to wade in a good way after the canoe, which had been secured to the stump of a tree.
Wednesday, the 15th.—After breakfast I went off with Finn and Lyons in the canoe to Ankau Creek, but the tide was running out so strongly that we did not attempt to go up it, but landed, and Lyons and I went up along the shore, while Finn searched for strawberries, of which there were still a few to be found. We followed up the creek for nearly a mile, but, saw nothing in the way of game, and as the rocks were decidedly unpleasant to our moccasined feet we returned to the canoe and crossed to Yakutat, where most of the Indians were still in bed, having kept up the potlatch till five in the morning, and distributed some three thousand yards of calico, according to De Groff. We lunched there, and sailed home about four o’clock. The chief’s garden was being stripped of its produce, turnip, beet, and a few onions, with a view to the approaching feast.
Thursday, the 16th.—Grey and cloudy, with a south-east wind which ought to bring the ‘Alpha’ now. De Groff came over to lunch and took a photograph of us ‘in camp,’ and also of the Swedish Mission. The Indians were potlatching again to-day; one woman gave away twenty-one blankets and a lot of calico. Occasionally great swells, like the chief or the doctor, got a whole blanket. These doctors or medicine-men used to have tremendous power in the tribe, but this has much diminished before the advance of civilisation. Their initiation into their full M.D. degree used to consist in a prolonged solitary fast in the forests, till, overtaken by a sort of frenzy, they rushed back to the village, where such people as desired to show a fine religious fervour would offer their arms for the doctor to take bites out of. Other Indians when dead are cremated, but the doctors are buried in a little wooden hut in some isolated spot, or on a point of rock overlooking the sea; and of late years these huts have been ruthlessly ravaged for curios, since the doctor’s charms and other implements are always buried with him; but if the sacrilegious prowler was caught it would be very awkward for him in a wild place like Yakutat. The common American term for these medicine-men is shaman, apparently a corruption of the Russian shawaan, but the Tlinkits themselves use the word icht. The doctor at Yakutat was a filthy old scoundrel, with hair about six feet long; he had been half-blind for years, having at one time headed an attack against a French storekeeper (named, I believe, Belœil, but the men always spoke of him as Bellew), who had checked the onslaught with a well-aimed dose of sulphuric acid.
During the potlatch sundry relics of the deceased made their appearance, and were wept over with much emotion, genuine tears being produced in abundance. Some of the old men, who had nothing else, gave tobacco, a small pinch being put in the fire each time for the spirits of the departed.
Friday, the 17th.—Dull and grey, and threatening rain. Yesterday and to-day the flies were something fearful, and we had even to walk up and down when feeding, while any liquid, such as soup or tea, was thick with them. As the baking-powder was all but finished, Finn, who was supposed to be rather good at the art, was deputed to make sour-dough bread, but it was not much of a success, resembling plain heavy buns. The leaven was presumably too new, for afterwards it worked admirably.
The Indians began their feast about four o’clock. Each man had his own bowl, while by the fire were large dishes full of rice, berries cooked in seal-oil, and what looked like some preparation of fish. After a brief invocation a little of each was put in the fire, and then the bowls were filled and they began. I was over on the island by myself, and H. came across in the smallest canoe to fetch me. Half-way over we met E. in another, who, unaware that his brother had started, was coming over with the same intention, and, instead of being pleased at not having to go any further, seemed to consider himself aggrieved. We often saw Siwash dogs swimming across, the distance being quite a mile. In the morning we purchased through Mike two salmon for ten cents, which sounds cheap, but after all the money was wasted, as a few minutes later Billy and Matthew turned up in a canoe with two dozen they had speared, so we took six of the best.
Saturday, the 18th.—Raining all day, with some very heavy showers, so we stayed in the Mission most of the time. The house consisted of one furnished room, which Hendrickson and Lydell inhabited, one unfurnished one, which they politely put at our disposal, and another large one, at that time unfloored, which was to be the school-room. We said we would sleep in the house as the weather was so bad, but at supper-time it cleared a bit, and H. elected to stay in the green tent. E. and I went in and rolled up in our blankets on the floor, which was distinctly hard. In the other room Hendrickson was reading to Lydell the story of Elisha and the Shunammite woman, rendered apparently into easy English for children. His accent was certainly most peculiar, and E., after listening a bit, remarked, ‘A great many sibilants in that language, aren’t there?’ being under the impression that Hendrickson was sticking to his native Swedish. I roared so that I feared they would come and ask what was the matter, but luckily they didn’t.
Sunday, the 19th.—Rain nearly all night and most of the day. E. and I got up about six o’clock, roused by the men coming back with clams, for which the tide suited. Last evening my watch began to go in a feeble manner and made three hours during the night. In the afternoon E. and I played a curious form of cricket on the beach with a wooden net-float for a ball, an axe-handle for a bat, and two ice-axes for wickets. Having smashed two balls, we had to desist, though not before E. had defeated me with great slaughter.
Monday, the 20th.—Wind still south-east, but no ‘Alpha.’ We were getting thoroughly sick of our enforced imprisonment in this place, where there was literally nothing to do, the village being hopelessly surrounded by bush, and so far from the mountains that no hunting or exploring was possible, for fear the ‘Alpha’ should arrive while we were away. Tremendous rain all the afternoon, which cleared as usual about six o’clock. The wind, however, seemed rather more south-west.
Tuesday, the 21st.—Lovely morning at last, but hardly any wind. My watch still kept going, but only very slowly between the hours of seven and eleven, something evidently clogging the works. Ned’s canoe, the one we had at Icy Bay, was going back to Juneau next day, which offered a means of escape, but he was taking a cargo of seal-oil! Shorty, however, wanted to go, but we preferred to keep him. De Groff came to supper, and we had some whist afterwards, keeping it up till the extraordinarily late hour of half-past ten, when he took his departure by the light of a lovely full moon.