A Pacific Coast Vacation

by Mrs. James Edwin Morris

Two brothers, twins, lived in paradise. One of them ate a sea cucumber. It was the one forbidden fruit. The paradise became a wilderness. The brothers were starving when a band of roving Stickines came that way one day and pitying them left them wives to care for them.

From one of these pairs sprang all the Kaksatti, the Crow clan. From the other descended all the Kokwantons, the Wolf clan.

The legends of these Indians as well as all other tribes in this country, contain a full account of the landing of Columbus. The news was carried overland from post to post and tribe to tribe by runners. The history of the tribe at Sitka runs back five hundred years. Beyond that period they have no record and frankly say that they have no authentic account of their origin.

Their stature, their industry, their faith in the shaman, their belief in transmigration of souls, all point to Asiatic origin. Their word for water is agua, much like the Latin aqua.

The Mission and Training schools have transformed these savages, whose ancestors murdered the intrepid Muscovites, into frontier fishermen, boatmen and loggers.

An Indian never willingly consents to have his photograph taken, because, when you have a picture of him, he firmly believes that you have power over his soul. The educated Indian, however, is fearless of the camera.

The Kletwantans and the Klukwahuttes, two branches of the Frog clan, are at variance over the erection of a totem pole and have gone into court to settle the matter. The Klukwahuttes are the true aristocrats of Indian society in Sitka. The Kletwantons are the wealthy members of the real Indian four hundred, but having made their money in fish and oil, are considered upstarts by their more aristocratic brothers. The Kletwantons decided to build a new home for the chief and to set up an elaborately carved and decorated totem pole. The eyes of the frog which was to surmount this wonderful pole were to be twenty-dollar gold pieces. A grand potlatch was to be held when the pole was ready to set up. All of the Indians up and down the coast, from Juneau, Killisnoo, Skagway, Ft. Wrangel and Bella Bella, were invited, but the aristocratic Klukwahuttes were left out. Did they sit down and quietly ignore this insult? No indeed. They told their wealthy brothers in true American style what they thought of such conduct, and the matter would, no doubt, have been dropped here had not the wealthy fish oil makers denied that the Klukwahuttes belonged to the Frog clan at all. Upon this things grew so warm that the missionary appealed to the district attorney to aid him in making the Indians keep the peace. Then the disgusted Klukwahuttes went to him asking for an injunction to keep the pretended Frogs from holding the potlatch and setting up the pole. He replied to them that he would take the case upon them paying him a retainer of five hundred dollars, feeling sure that would end the matter, well knowing that they could not raise the money. Petitioned again he reduced his fee to two hundred and fifty dollars, feeling quite sure that they could not raise even that amount. But he reckoned without his host. In less than two hours the leading men of the Klukwahuttes filed into his office, carrying goat skin bags and pouches filled with money and counted out the two hundred and fifty dollars in small coins, no coin being larger than a fifty-cent piece. The attorney was obliged to keep his word and take the case. The injunction was issued restraining the oil makers from building the house and setting up the totem pole. The potlatch, however, was held.

When the Juneau Indians arrived in their canoes off the shore the chief stood up and chanted their traditions to prove that they belonged to the Frog clan and were rightfully invited. When he had finished the leaders of the Klukwahuttes, who were standing on the beach, recited their traditions to prove that they and not the Kletwantans were the true Frogs. The Klukwahuttes, however, made no disturbance during the feast. Later the Kletwantans employed a young Boston lawyer who was stopping at Sitka and sued the Klukwahuttes for damages. Not wishing to be outdone by the aristocratic Klukwahuttes, they at once paid their lawyer a retainer of two hundred and fifty dollars. There the case rests. The lawyers are trying to settle it out of court.

On an eminence which commands a fine view of the harbor and the town, stood the Baranhoff castle, which was burned a few years ago. It did not in the least resemble a castle. The picture makes it look like an old country inn. The ruins are still visible and the two flights of steps leading to it still exist. Around this historic ground cluster the scenes and incidents of the past century. The castle, like the island on which it stood, took its name from the Russian governor, Baranhoff, who in the early part of the century ruled the people with an iron hand, beginning with the knout and ending with the ax.

Not one of the intrepid Muscovites who landed here in 1741 were left to tell the tale of their capture and execution by the native Sitkans. In 1800 another party arrived and placed themselves under the protection of the Archangel Gabriel instead of trusting to the power of gunpowder and stockades. They too were massacred and their homes destroyed by fire. Baranhoff was at once sent out by the Russian government. He erected the castle and stockade, withdrew the town from the protection of Gabriel and placed it under the protection of the Archangel Michael.