Coming to Trade.
Wednesday, at the literary, C. C. talked on "Reminiscences of an Undertaker." It was very interesting, being his favorite and familiar theme. It was held at the Hanson Camp, and I remained as guest of Guy Solsbury, Jack Messing and Joe Jury came here and visited our boys at the same time. We have to visit about these cold nights and sleep under one cover when possible. Blankets are none too plentiful.
Normandin mended my shot-gun, which had lost a rivet, for which I paid him the sum of a stuffed ptarmigan. Everybody wants ptarmigan skins now, but I have to be rather "stingy," as I am frequently told, or else I won't have a ghost of a "series" to take home for comparison. Home! When?
CHAPTER XVIII.
M
MARCH 7, 1899.—I have succeeded at last in trading for two pairs of snowshoes, from some Eskimos who have just come up the river. The dickering engaged the entire afternoon, and I am completely exhausted. It is a stupendous undertaking to attempt to trade for anything. The natives want the earth, and then "some more." The following is an illustration of the proceedings: An Indian brings in a pair of snowshoes and we all rush to see them, commenting on their size and quality. "Mickaninny" (too small); "anganinny" (too big); "naguruk" (good); "caprok pechak" (string loose); "byme by fixem." And then "capsinic" (how much?) The native invariably replies, "You speak." You can never make an Indian state what he wants. You begin by offering him "sox." "Konga" (no). He wants "cow cow" (something to eat). "Flour?" "Capsinic flour?" "Neleuea" (I don't know). Being urged on flour, the native intimates "two sacks." "Oh, apazh, apazh" (too much). One sack flour all right? "No, too small." The Indian then proceeds to look over the sack of flour brought for his inspection and he finds "potoa" (hole). After this is sewed up he finds that it has been wet at one end and the flour is a little caked in advance at the bottom. He therefore states that the whole thing is "no good," and "dauxic pechak" (no trade). He wants bacon, "so long and so broad," indicating the measurements in the air with hands. "No, we pechak" (haven't any for him). Then I bring out a shirt to add to the sack of flour. He looks at the shirt and finds a torn place. "Stoney-house" (no good).
"Stoney-house" means torn or broken, and has a queer derivation. Fort Cosmos is called stoney-house by the natives, because Lieutenant Stoney and his party wintered there in 1884. The cabin they lived in at Fort Cosmos (there is no fort or anything else there now) is all broken down. So, with an Eskimo, "All same stoney-house," or simply "stoney-house," means broken.
After two hours of sweating and bargaining the trade is consummated, and the "cabloona" is satisfied. It is much to the relief of both parties. From the foregoing it will be plainly seen that a native is amply able to care for his own interests, and has learned from a probably bitter experience to "look a leetle out."
I got a very nice pair of snowshoes to take home as curiosities for one sack of flour and a pair of socks, and another pair, stronger but not so prettily made, for every-day use, for a half sack of flour and half a pound of tea. This is very reasonable and some under winter prices. Snowshoes make nice wall decorations for halls and dining-rooms, with a suitable picture stuck in them where the foot belongs.
Wednesday, March 8.—Our extremely cold weather is at an end, I hope. But it is more disagreeable outside. I put up a spruce grouse and two redpolls this afternoon. Birds are becoming noisier and, I presume, happier and in better spirits as the sunshine increases. An Alaskan three-toed wood-pecker drums taps on a dead spruce near the cabin every morning. The jays are quiet, but have a stealthy, sly manner which indicates that they are about to engage in nest-building. Rivers has finished up two ptarmigan skins in fair shape. He is very painstaking and I hope he gets some good specimens down on the coast. I have everyone posted as to keeping birds and eggs for me, and, with this generous promise of help, I ought to obtain some rare things this spring.