3. Many of the most common aboriginal consonants, or atonic sounds, while simple to them, can be represented in English only by compounds. Such are the almost universal “ch” which can be as accurately rendered “ts,” (?) and the very common final syllable “lth.” “T” is also produced so far back in the throat as to be almost indistinguishable from “k.” It seems to be a principle to slip a short “e” sound before an initial “k,” and many names begin with a short introductory “n” sound, which is nearly a pure vowel. Of the vowels, “a” pronounced as ah is the most common, though long “a,” properly a diphthong, and long “i” a diphthong, and long “e” are very frequent. While it is true that the sounds as a rule are in, rather than out, still the pure vowels, especially “a,” and this used as a call, or cry, is often very open and pure.
4. It will probably be found, also, that the sounds are varied more or less according to meaning. With us tones are a matter of expression. With the aborigines they were probably a matter primarily of meaning. This would arise from the fact that their language was not written, but spoken, and their terms were not descriptive, but imitative. We know, for instance, that the Jargon word indicating pastime, which is “ahncuttie,” means a shorter or longer period, according as the length the first vowel is drawn out—a very long time ago admitting also of imitative gesticulation. This principle would modify the pronunciation of words, lengthening or shortening the vowels, or opening or closing them, or perhaps drawing semi-vowels out into pure vowels, and softening or sharpening the consonants.
While any expression of opinion must be very modest, still this much may be ventured: That our language has lost many valuable elements in its evolution from the spoken to the written form, especially in the matter of picturesqueness. We have, of course, gained immeasurably in directness and objective accuracy, but true evolution does not abolish any former element, but retains and subordinates it, and thereby is able to advance to new utilities. By study of a pure aboriginal language on the imitative principle, expressed only in tones, not only may the advantages of our own tongue be understood, but its deficiencies may be remedied, and a more complete language at length be developed. I am by no means of the opinion that all that is human, or of value to civilization, is to be found in the Anglo-Saxon race, or even in the white race; but that the slow and painful struggles and ponderings of the other races are also to be wrought into the final perfect expression of humanity in society, art, literature and religion.
After the above, which is perhaps too much in the way of introduction, I will proceed with the names that I have been favored with—only wishing, if that were possible, that our aboriginal languages might be reconstructed in their entirety.
Water, says Mr. Smith, unless enclosed by land, was never named. The Columbia or the Willamette had no names. Water was to the native mind, like air, a spiritual element, and just the same in one place as another; and the circumstance that it was bounded by land made it no other than simply “chuck”—the Jargon word. If Indians ever seemed to give a name to a river, all that was meant was some locality on the shore. The idea of giving an appellation to a body of water from source to outlet never occurred to them.
The following are some of the more common Indian names of places, as given by Mr. Smith:
Chinook, or Tsinook—The headland at Baker’s Bay.
Clatsop, or, more properly, Tlahtsops—About the same as Point Adams at mouth of the Columbia.
Wal-lamt, accented on last syllable, and but two syllables—A place on the west shore of the Willamette River, near Oregon City, and the name from which Willamette is taken.
E-multh-a-no-mah—On east side of Sauvie’s Island; from which the name Multnomah is derived.