LITMIR.BIZ

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kept the sun, moon, and stars in boxes, carefully locked and guarded. This chief had an only daughter whom he worshipped. He would allow no one to make love to her, so Yehl, perceiving that only a descendant of the old man could secure access to the boxes, and knowing that the chief examined all his daughter's food before she ate it, and that it would therefore avail him nothing to turn himself into ordinary food, conceived the idea of converting himself into a fragrant grass and by springing up persistently in the maiden's path, he was one day eaten and swallowed. A grandson was then born to the old chief, who wrought upon his affections—as grandsons have a way of doing—to such an extent that he could deny him nothing.

      One day the young Yehl, who seems to have been appropriately named, set up a lamentation for the boxes he desired and continued it until one was in his possession. He took it out-doors and opened it. Millions of little milk-white, opaline birds instantly flew up and settled in the sky. They were followed by a large, silvery bird, which was so heavy and uncertain in her flight to the sky that, although she finally reached it, she never appeared twice the same thereafter, and on some nights could not be seen at all. The old chief was very angry, and it was not until Yehl had wept and fasted himself to death's very door that he obtained the sun; whereupon, he changed himself back into a raven, and flying away from the reach of his stunned and temporary grandfather, who had commanded him not to open the box, he straightway lifted the lid—and the world was flooded with light.

      One of the most interesting of the Thlinkit myths is the one of the spirits that guard and obey the shamans. The most important are those dwelling in the North. They were warriors; hence, an unusual display of the northern lights was considered an omen of approaching war. The other spirits are of people who died a commonplace death; and the greatest care must be exercised by relatives in mourning for these, or they will have difficulty in reaching their new abode. Too many tears are as bad as none at all; the former mistake mires and gutters the path, the latter leaves it too deep in dust. A decent and comfortable quantity makes it hard and even and pleasant.

      Their deluge myth is startling in its resemblance to ours. When their flood came upon them, a few were saved in a great canoe which was made of cedar. This wood splits rather easily, parallel to its grain, under stress of storm, and the one in which the people embarked split after much buffeting. The Thlinkits clung to one part, and all other peoples to the other part, creating a difference in language. Chet'l, the eagle, was separated from his sister, to whom he said, "You may never see me again, but you shall hear my voice forever." He changed himself into a bird of tremendous size and flew away southward. The sister climbed Mount Edgecumbe, which opened and swallowed her, leaving a hole that has remained ever since. Earthquakes are caused by her struggles with bad spirits which seek to drive her away, and by her invariable triumph over them she sustains the poise of the world.

      Chet'l returned to Mount Edgecumbe, where he still lives. When he comes forth, which is but seldom, the flapping of his great wings produces the sound which is called thunder. He is, therefore, known everywhere as the Thunder-bird. The glance of his brilliant eyes is the lightning.

      Concerning the totem-pole which was taken from an Indian village on Tongas Island, near Ketchikan, by members of the Post-Intelligencer business men's excursion to Alaska in 1899—and for which the city of Seattle was legally compelled to pay handsomely afterward—the following letter from a member of the family originally owning the totem is of quaint interest:—

      "I have received your letter, and I am going to tell you the story of the totem-pole. Now, the top one is a crow himself, and the next one from the pole top is a man. That crow have told him a story. Crow have told him a good-looking woman want to married some man. So he did marry her. She was a frog. And the fourth one is a mink. One time, the story says, that one time it was a high tide for some time, and so crow got marry to mink, so crow he eats any kind of fishes from the water. After some time crow got tired of mink, and he leave her, and he get married to that whale-killer, and then crow he have all he want to eat. That last one on the totem-pole is the father of the crow. The story says that one time it got dark for a long while. The darkness was all over the world, and only crow's father was the only one can give light to the world. He simply got a key. He keeps the sun and moon in a chest, that one time crow have ask his father if he play with the sun and moon in the house but, was not allowed, so he start crying for many days until he was sick. So his father let him play with it and he have it for many days. And one day he let the moon in the sky by mistake, but he keep the sun, and he which take time before he could get his chances to go outside of the house. As soon as he was out he let sun back to the sky again, and it was light all over the world again. (End of story.)

      "Yours respectfully,

       "David E. Kinninnook.

      "P.S. The Indians have a long story, and one of the chiefs of a village or of a tribe only a chief can put up so many carvings on our totem-pole, and he have to fully know the story of what totem he is made. I may give you the whole story of it sometimes. Crow on top have a quart moon in his mouth, because he have ask his father for a light.

      "D. E. K.

      "If you can put this story on the Post-Intelligencer, of Seattle, Wash., and I think the people will be glad to know some of it."

      The Thlinkits burned their dead, with the exception of the shamans, but carefully preserved the ashes and all charred bones from the funeral pyre. These were carefully folded in new blankets and buried in the backs of totems. One totem, when taken down to send to the Lewis and Clark Exposition, was found to contain the remains of a child in the butt-end of the pole which was in the ground; the portion containing the child being sawed off and reinterred.

       Copyright by E. A. Hegg, Juneau Greek-Russian Church at Sitka

      

      A totem-pole donated to the exposition by Yannate, a very old Thlinkit, was made by his own hands in honor of his mother. His mother belonged to the Raven Clan, and a large raven is at the crest of the pole; under it is the brown bear—the totem of the Kokwonton Tribe, to which the woman's husband belonged; underneath the bear is an Indian with a cane, representing the woman's brother, who was a noted shaman or sorcerer many years ago; at the bottom are two faces, or masks, representing the shaman's favorite slaves.

      The Haidahs did not burn their dead, but buried them, usually in the butts of great cedars. Frequently, however, they were buried at the base of totem-poles, and when in recent years poles have been removed, remains have been found and reinterred.

      On the backs of some of the old totem-poles at Wrangell and other places, may be seen the openings that were made to receive the ashes of the dead, the portion that had been sawed out being afterward replaced.

      The wealth of a Thlinkit is estimated according to his number of blankets; his honor and importance by the number of potlatches he has given. Every member of his totem is called upon to contribute to the potlatch of the chief, working to that end, and "skimping" himself in his own indulgences for that object, for many years, if necessary. The potlatch is given at the full of the moon; the chief's clan and totem decline all gifts; it is not in good form for any member thereof to accept the slightest gift. Guests are seated and treated according to their rights, and the resentment of a slight is not postponed until the banquet is over and the blood has cooled. An immediate fight to the bitter end is the result; so that the greatest care is exercised in this nice matter—which has proven a pitfall to many a white hostess in the most civilized lands; so seldom does a guest have the right and the honor to feel that where he sits is the head of the table. At these potlatches a "frenzied" hospitality prevails; everything is bestowed with a lavish and reckless hand upon the visitors, from food and drink to the host's most precious possession, blankets. His wives are given freely, and without the pang which must go with every blanket. Visitors come and remain for days, or until the host is absolutely beggared and has nothing more to give.

      But since every one accepting his potlatch is not only expected, but actually bound by tribal laws as fixed as the stars, to return it, the beggared chief gradually "stocks up" again; and in a few years is able to launch

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