Part 7 (1/2)
”Never to alienate, give away, or sell our land, or any portion thereof, to any person or persons who have not subscribed to these rules.”
CHAPTER V
Dixon Entrance belongs to British Columbia, but the boundary crosses its northern waters about three miles above Whitby Point on Dundas Island, and the steamer approaches Revilla-Gigedo Island. It is twenty-five by fifty miles, and was named by Vancouver in honor of the Viceroy of New Spain, who sent out several of the most successful expeditions. It is pooled by many bits of turquoise water which can scarcely be dignified by the name of lakes.
Carroll Inlet cleaves it half in twain. The exquisite gorges and mountains of this island are coming to their own very slowly, as compared with its attractions from a commercial point of view.
The island is in the centre of a rich salmon district, and during the ”running” season the clear blue waters flash underneath with the glistening silver of the struggling fish. In some of the fresh-water streams where the hump-backed salmon sp.a.w.n, the fortunate tourist may literally make true the frequent Western a.s.sertion that at certain times ”one can walk across on the solid silver bridge made by the salmon”--so tightly are they wedged together in their desperate and pathetic struggles to reach the sp.a.w.ning-ground.
Vancouver found these ”hunch-backs,” as he called them, not to his liking,--probably on account of finding them at the sp.a.w.ning season.
Leaving Ketchikan, Revilla and Point Higgins are pa.s.sed to starboard--Higgins being another of Vancouver's choice namings for the president of Chile.
”Did you ever see such a cluttering up of a landscape with odds and ends of names?” said the pilot one day. ”And all the ugliest by Vancouver.
Give _me_ an Indian name every time. It always means something. Take this Revilly-Gig Island; the Indians called it 'Na-a,' meaning 'the far lakes,' for all the little lakes scattered around. I don't know as we're doing much better in our own day, though,” he added, staring ahead with a twinkle in his eyes. ”They've just named a couple of mountains _Mount Thomas Whitten_ and _Mount Shoup_! Now those names are all right for men--even congressmen--but they're not worth shucks for mountains. Why, the Russians could do better! Take Mount St. Elias--named by Behring because he discovered it on St. Elias' day. I actually tremble every time I pa.s.s that mountain, for fear I'll look up and see a sign tacked on it, stating that the name has been changed to Baker or Bacon or Mudge, so that Vancouver's bones will rest more easily in the grave. Now look at that point! It's pretty enough in itself; but--_Higgins!_”
The next feature of interest, however, proved to be blessed with a name sweet enough to take away the bitterness of many others--Clover Pa.s.s. It was not named for this most fragrant and dear of all flowers, but for Lieutenant, now Rear-Admiral, Clover, of the United States Navy.
Beyond Clover Pa.s.s, at the entrance to Naha Bay, is Loring, a large and important cannery settlement of the Alaska Packers' a.s.sociation. There is only one salmon-canning establishment in Alaska, or even on the Northwest Coast, more picturesquely situated than this, and it is nearly two thousand miles ”to Westward,” at the mouth of the famed Karluk River, where the same company maintains large canneries and successful hatcheries. It will be described in another chapter.
A trail leads from Loring through the woods to Dorr Waterfall, in a lovely glen. In Naha Bay thousands of fish are taken at every dip of the seine in the narrowest cove, which is connected with a chain of small lakes linked by the tiniest of streams. In summer these waters seem to be of living silver, so thickly are they swarmed with darting and curving salmon.
Not far from Naha Bay is Traitor's Cove, where Vancouver and his men were attacked in boats by savages in the masks of animals, headed by an old hag who commanded and urged them to bloodthirsty deeds.
This vixen seemed to be a personage of prestige and influence, judging both by the immense size of her lip ornament and her air of command. She seized the lead line from Vancouver's boat and made it fast to her own canoe, while another stole a musket.
Vancouver, advancing to parley with the chief, made the mistake of carrying his musket; whereupon about fifty savages leaped at him, armed with spears and daggers.
The chief gave him to understand by signs that they would lay down their arms if he would set the example; but the terrible old woman, scenting peace and scorning it, violently and turbulently harangued the tribe and urged it to attack.
The brandis.h.i.+ng of spears and the flouris.h.i.+ng of daggers became so uncomfortably close and insistent, that Vancouver finally overcame his ”humanity,” and fired into the canoes.
The effect was electrical. The Indians in the small canoes instantly leaped into the water and swam for the sh.o.r.e; those in the larger ones tipped the canoes to one side, so that the higher side s.h.i.+elded them while they made the best of their way to the sh.o.r.e.
There they ascended the rocky cliffs and stoned the boats. Several of Vancouver's men were severely wounded, one having been speared completely through the thigh.
The point at the northern entrance to Naha Bay, where they landed to dress wounds and take account of stock not stolen, was named Escape Point; a name which it still retains.
Kasa-an Bay is an inlet pus.h.i.+ng fifteen miles into the eastern coast of Prince of Wales Island, which is two hundred miles in length and averages forty in width. Cholmondeley Sound penetrates almost as far, and Moira Sound, Niblack Anchorage on North Arm, Twelve Mile Arm, and Skowl Arm, are all storied and lovely inlets. Skowl was an old chief of the Eagle Clan, whose sway was questioned by none. He was the greatest chief of his time, and ruled his people as autocratically as the lordly, but bl.u.s.tering, Baranoff ruled his at Sitka. Skowl repulsed the advances of missionaries and scorned all attempts at Christianizing himself and his tribe. His was a powerful personality which is still mentioned with a respect not unmixed with awe. To say that a chief is as fearless as Skowl is a fine compliment, indeed, and one not often bestowed.
Although not on the regular run of steamers, Howkan, now a Presbyterian missionary village on Cordova Bay, on the southwestern part of Prince of Wales Island, must not be entirely neglected. In early days the village was a forest of totems, and the graves were almost as interesting as the totems. Both are rapidly vanis.h.i.+ng and losing their most picturesque features before the march of civilization and Christianity; but Howkan is still one of the show-places of Alaska. The tourist who is able to make this side trip on one of the small steamers that run past there, is the envy of the unfortunate ones who are compelled to forego that pleasure.
[Ill.u.s.tration: Copyright by E. A. Hegg, Juneau
STEEL CANTILEVER BRIDGE, NEAR SUMMIT OF WHITE Pa.s.s]
Totemism is the poetry of the Indian--or would be if it possessed any religious significance.
I once asked an educated Tsimpsian Indian what the Metlakahtla people believed,--meaning the belief that Mr. Duncan had taught them. He put the tips of his fingers together, and with an expression of great earnestness, replied:--