The costumes that are worn at such feasts are very remarkable articles, especially the head-dresses that are worn by the chiefs. They take the form of masks, and are cut out of solid wood, generally imitating the heads of various birds and beasts, though they sometimes are carved in the semblance of a grotesque human face. The [specimens] which are shown in the [illustrations] on page 1357 will give a good idea of these strange headdresses. One of them, which was presented to me by Lieut. Pusey, is carved in imitation of a beaver’s head, and is tied on the wearer’s head with strings. There are holes bored through the eyes, by means of which the wearer is enabled to see, and these holes are cleverly bored in a slanting direction, so as to coincide with the pupil of the eye. Some of these masks are made with great goggle eyes and large jaws. Both the eyes and the jaws are movable, and are worked by strings that pass down the back, so that the wearer can make the eyes roll and the jaws open and close without any apparent cause.
Sometimes the masks are made in the form of birds, and by a similar arrangement of cords, the birds can be made to turn their heads from side to side, and to flap their wings while the wearer speaks. There is a very remarkable specimen of these masks in the museum at Maidstone. It is double, one mask within another. The outer mask is divided by lines drawn from forehead to chin, down the centre of the nose, and across the face, so that it is in four distinct pieces. The pieces all work on hinges, and are so well fitted to each other that a spectator could not suspect that they were not one solid piece. Suddenly, while the wearer is dancing, he will fling all the pieces open, and discover a second and more hideous mask beneath.
When the chief wishes to pay an extraordinary compliment to a visitor, he puts on a mask that is fitted with a number of porcupine quills. Upon this head-dress he heaps a vast quantity of swan’s down, which is retained in its position by the quills. He then dances up to the visitor, and, as he retreats backward in the dance, gives a jerk with his head, and sends the down flying over him. It is a point of honor that the visitor should be kept enveloped in a shower of down, as if he were in a snow-storm, and this can only be done by perpetually dancing and nodding the head, which is kept well supplied with down by attendants.
White feathers and down always signify peace, and hence, when a man sets off on a mission of peace to a neighboring tribe with whom there has been a quarrel, he puts white down on his head, and knows that his person will be as sacred as that of the bearer of a flag of truce in civilized warfare.
One of the dances practised by the Ahts displays a really wonderful amount of ingenuity, and must take no little time to practise. It was witnessed by Mr. Sproat, who describes it in the following terms. The different dances are called Nooks in Aht language. This might be called the “Doctor’s (Ooshtukyu) Nook.” A fine [representation] of it by the artist is given on the following page.
“During the song and dance, which at first seemed to present nothing peculiar, a well-known slave (one, however, who was in a comparatively independent position, being employed as a sailor on board the steamer Thames), suddenly ceased dancing, and fell down on the ground apparently in a dying state, and having his face covered with blood. He did not move or speak, his head fell on one side, his limbs were drawn up, and he certainly presented a ghastly spectacle. While the dance raged furiously around the fallen man, the doctor, with some others, seized and dragged him to the other side of the fire round which they were dancing, placing his naked feet very near the flames.
“After this a pail of water was brought in, and the doctor, who supported the dying man on his arm, washed the blood from his face; the people beat drums, danced, and sang, and suddenly the patient sprang to his feet and joined in the dance, none the worse for the apparently hopeless condition of the moment before. While all this was going on, I asked the giver of the feast whether it was real blood upon the man’s face, and if he were really wounded. He told me so seriously that it was, that I was at first inclined to believe him, until he began to explain that the blood which came from the nose and mouth was owing to the incantations of the medicine man, and that all the people would be very angry if he did not afterward restore him.
“I then recalled to mind that in the early part of the day, before the feast, I had seen the doctor and the slave holding very friendly conferences; and the former had used his influence to get a pass for the latter to be present at the entertainment, to which, probably, he had no right to come. I feel sure that many of the Indians really believed in this exhibition of the doctor’s power. When the affair was over, many of the natives asked me what I thought of it, and referred to it as if it must set at rest for ever any possible doubts with regard to the abilities of their native doctors. The Indian, who explained this and other performances to me, said that the cure was not entirely owing to the doctor, but to the large body of dancers and singers, who all ‘exerted their hearts’ to desire the recovery of the sick man, and so procured the desired effect.”
This simulated production of blood forms an element in several of the Aht dances. In one of them a man, stripped even of his blanket, is bound with his hands behind him, and driven about at the end of long cords, while the spectators yell, shout, and hammer with sticks upon wooden dishes and drums made of bear-skin.
Suddenly the chief dashes among the people, brandishing a knife, and, on seeing the bound man, gives chase to him, and to all appearance drives the knife deeply into his back. Blood pours abundantly from the wound, and the man rushes wildly about in search of shelter, followed by the chief, who plunges his bloody weapon repeatedly into the man’s back. Exhausted by his wounds and loss of blood, the victim staggers, falls, and dies. His friends gather round the dead body, and carry it outside the house, when it washes itself, and puts on its blanket.