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Ethnological survey of Canada. - Report of the committee, consisting of Professor D.P. Penhallow (Chairman),… British Association for the Advancement of Science 1899

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Array 490 report—1899.
Operations were confined to an area of about eight acres in the southwest corner of the city.
This area is bounded on the north by insula XV. and XVI. ; or/the
east by insula: XVII. and XVIII., excavated in 1897 ; and on thorother
sides by the city wall. It contained two insula: (XIX. andr XX.),
together with a large triangular area to the south, forming apparently
part of insula XVIII.    See the plan in last year's report.
Insula XIX. presents the peculiarity of being inclosed by/a wall, and
contains, in addition to three minor buildings, a well-planraied house of
early date and of the largest size, with fine hypocausts. To it is attached
the workshop of some industry, with a large inclosure .dependent on it,
containing two settling-tanks, perhaps belonging to a tannery. The courtyard of this house is partly underlaid by the remainsr of a much earlier
one, of half-timbered construction, containing in one of its chambers a
mosaic pavement of remarkable design, and perhaps the earliest in date
yet found in this country. A small house in this insula is somewhat
exceptional in plan and also, perhaps, of early date.
Insula XX. contains a number, of buildings scattered over its area,
but none of these appears to be of any importance. Two of them are of
interest as furnishing plans of houses of the smallest class. This insula
also contains one of the curious detached/hypocausts which were noticed
in the excavations of 1897. A large inclosure with attached chambers,
near the lesser west gate, may be conjectured to have contained stabling
for the accommodation of travellers entering the city.
Several wells were found in Loth insula:, lined either with the usual
wooden framing or disused barrels. A pit in insula XX. contained a
double row of pointed wooden stakes driven into the bottom, and may
have been for the capture of ^vild animals at some period anterior to the
existence of the Roman town, or subsequent to its extinction. No architectural remains were found,'but the rubbish-pits yielded the usual crop
of earthen vessels.
The finds in bronze aim bone do not call for any special notice, but an
enamelled brooch of gilt-bronze, with a curious paste intaglio and several
settings of rings, may i$e mentioned.
Among the iron enbjeets are a well-preserved set of hooks, perhaps for
hoisting barrels, and a curious pair of handcuffs or fetterlock.
From a pit inAnsula XIX. was recovered an upper quern stone, still
retaining its original wooden handle.
Although a considerable area in the southern part produced no pits
or traces of buildings, the insula: excavated are quite up to the average in
point of interest, and their addition to the plan completes a very large
section of/the city.
A detailed account of all the discoveries was laid before the Society
of Antiquaries on May 4, 1899, and will be published by the Society in
* ArcKseologia.'
2The Committee ask to be reappointed with a further grant. ON THE ETHNOLOGICAL SURVEY OF CANADA,        497
Ethnological Scrcf ij of Canada.—Report of the Committee, consisting
of Professor D. P. Penhallow (Chairman), Dr. G. M. Dawson
(Secretnri/), Mr. E. W. Brabrook, Professor A. C. Haddon, Mr.
E. S. Hartland, Sir John G. Bourinot, Abbe Cuoq, Mr. B.
Sulte, Abb6 Tanguay, Mr. C. Hill-Tout, Mr. David Boyle,
Rev. Dr. Scadding, Rev. Dr. J. Maclean, Dr. Meree Beau-
chemin, Mr, C. N. Bell, Hon. G. Ross, Professor J. Mavor,
and Mr. A. F. HUNTER.
I. The Origin of Early Canadian Settlers.   By B. Sulte        ....   499
11. Studies of tlw Iiidiam of British Columbia.   By C Hill-Tout  .       .<      .   500
During the past year the work of this Committee has been extended in
important directions, although the great number and diversity of interests
to be considered, the difficulty of securing interested and competent
observers, and the great reluctance of many people to be made the subject
of such investigations, however simple, serve to make our work one of
slow progress. We nevertheless experience a sense of gratification in
view of the increasing interest in our investigations manifested during the
last year, and we feel confident that as the nature of our work becomes
better and more widely known this interest will gain in strength.
A large number of schedules giving detailed directions to observers
have been distributed ; but it was found necessary to issue supplementary
instructions respecting facial types and directions for certain measurements. Through the courtesy of Professor F. W. Putnam and Dr. F.
Boas, we have been enabled to make use of the excellent series of facial
types employed by the Bureau of Ethnology of the World's Columbian
Exposition at Chicago.
Several requests for anthropometric instruments have been received,
but, owing to delay in obtaining the instruments ordered, this work has
not progressed as rapidly as we had hoped, and the expected data will not
be available until another year. Several observers have already forwarded
extensive records of measurements, but it would be premature at the
present time to undertake any analysis of these, as the investigations to
which they relate are still in progress.
Much of the work in progress is of such a nature that returns cannot
be looked for under a year or more, but with the present organisation it
may be expected that each year will witness an increasing amount of
material from the various observers. Steps have been taken for the
special study of groups in different provinces, and it is hoped that these
efforts may result profitably in the near future.
The introduction into the North-West of large bodies of Europeans
who are to become permanently incorporated in our population has suggested the importance of securing, at as early a date as possible, such •
facts relating to their general ethnology as may seem to establish a suitable basis for the study of these people under the influence of their new
environment. Satisfactory arrangements have been made with respect to
the Doukhobors, and it is probable that similar arrangements may be
1899. K K 498 RETORT—1899.
completed during the coming year with respect to other largo bodies of
The exceptional circumstances surrounding the Indians of British
Columbia ; the fact that it is becoming more diiijjt-illt each year to obtain
reliable accounts of these people; the rapid disappearance of old customs,
dress, and mode of living ; and also the present availability of the services
of an expert and enthusiastic observer, have seemed sufficient reasons for
devoting to their study a much larger share of the resources of the Committee than might otherwise appear justifiable.
The work now in progress includes :—
1. Customs and Traditions of the Huron Indians of Lorette, P.Q.
Mr. Leon Gerin, Ottawa.
2. Anthropometric Studies. Dr. C. A. Hibbcrt, Montreal; Mr. A. F.
Hunter, Barrie, Ont.; Dr. F. A. Patrick, Yorkton, N.W.T. • Dr. F.
Tracey, Toronto. \
3. Photographic Studies of the North-West Coast Indians. Dr. C. F.
Newcombe, Victoria, B.C.
4. Studies of the Early Settlers of Canada.    Mr. B. Suite, Ottawa.
5. Ethnological Studies of the Indians of British Columbia. Mr. C.
Apart from the records of measurements previously alluded to, the
completed work of the past year is represented by the two papers
appended hereto.
1. The Origin of Early Canadian Settlers.    Mr. B. Suite, Ottawa.
2. Studies of the Indians of British Columbia. Mr. C. Hill-Tout,
Vancouver, B.C.
The important studies of Mr. Hill-Tout have been prosecuted under
considerable difficulties, but with the most painstaking care. They represent, for the most part, material which is altogether new, while those
which cover ground previously worked over embody results in such a way
as to preserve their value as contributions to our knowledge of these
One of the principal difficulties met with by Mr. Hill-Tout has been
the reluctance of the Indians to'submit themselves to the process of
measurement, or even, under satisfactory conditions, to the camera.
Prints, in duplicate, of a certain number of photographs already obtained by Mr. Hill-Tout accompany this report, and it is hoped that a
more important contribution of this kind may be forthcoming next year.
Also accompanying this report is a series of fifteen prints, in duplicate,
of photographs of the villages and totem-poles of the Haida Indians of
the Queen Charlotte Islands, taken by Dr. G. M. Dawson, Director of the
Geological Survey of Canada, while engaged in a survey of these islands
in the year 1878. These are the first photographs taken of the villages in
question, and they possess some interest as a matter of record in consequence of the fact that the objects and conditions represented by them have
now almost wholly disappeared. Some of these views have been reproduced
in the Report of Progress of the Geological Survey for 1878-79, to
which reference may be made. ON the ethnological SURVEY OF CANADA. 499
Early French Settlers in Canada.    By B. Sulte.
Leaving aside the men engaged in the fur trade, and who did not
adopt the colony as their home, we find that only 122 actual settlers or
heads of families arrived in Canada during the period of 1608-1645.
Nine-tenths of these men have numerous descendants still amongst
us. In this respect Canada is far ahead of any colony. The New England
States can hardly name twenty families coming from their first stock,
that is before 1645, although their immigration was five times at least
larger than ours.
There was no special organisation for recruiting in France.
Nearly every one of these 122 men married just before leaving for
Canada or soon after their arrival in the colony. They all belonged to
that class of people devoted altogether to agriculture, such as grains, hay,
oats, vegetables, hemp, flax. They understood thoroughly well the work
of felling trees and clearing land, because the provinces they came from
were of good soil, but not adapted for fruits and vine, nor fit for pasturage
on a large scale.
Eighty-four men arrived from 1634 to 1641, nineteen only from 1643^
to 1645, probably on account of the raids by the Iroquois.
From 1608 to 1645 Normandy sent 38, Perche 27, Paris 5, Beauce 4,
Picardy 3, Maine 3, Brie 3, or a total of 83 from the north of the river
Loire to the English Channel.
The married women numbered 119, out of which 68 were from the
north of the Loire; Perche 24, Normandy 23, Paris 10, Picardy 7,
Anjou 2, Beauce 2.
Women whose provinces are not known number thirty, but it would
seem they were also from the north, and had followed their parents and
relatives. Therefore the eighty-two l married men enumerated in the list
as coming from the north were equalled by the same number of married
women from the same region, whether the wedding took place in France
or in Canada.
Five women born in Canada married in the colony before 1645 : three
of them became widows and remarried. Three women born in France,
and who had arrived with their husbands, became widows, and remarried
during that period. Girls thirteen or fourteen years old married young
men newly settled.    -
The women from Champagne, Auvergne, Saintonge, Rochelle, and
Poitou are nine in all, with eleven men from these same parts. Besides
this Brittany furnished 2 men, Lorraine 1, Nivernais 1, Forez 1. They
undoubtedly came by themselves, like those of the north.
The proportion is about the same of men and women whose places of
origin are not indicated, a sixth of the total immigration.
1 Including one widower and two bachelors.
L_ REPORT—1899.
Notes on the JSTtt-akd'pamuQ of British Columbia, a Branch of the great
Salish Stock of North America..  By C. Hill-Tout.
The following notes on the N'tlaka'pamuQ are a summary of the
writer's studies of this division of the Salish of British Columbia. They
treat to some, extent of the ethnography, archaeology, language, social
customs, folk-lore, «fec, of this tribe, recording much, it is believed, not
hitherto gathered or published. For my folklore, ethnography, and
social customs notes I am chiefly indebted to Chief Mischelle, of Lytton,
than whom there is probably no better informed man in the whole tribe.
The N'tlaka'pamuQ is one of the most interesting of the five groups
into which the interior Salish of British Columbia are divided. They
•dwell along the banks of the Fraser between Spuzzum and Lillooet, and
on the Thompson from its mouth to the boundaries of the SEQuapmuQ,
and have also some half-score villagers in the Nicola valley. They
possess altogether some sixty-two villages throughout this area : eleven on
the Thompson, nine in the Nicola valley, eleven on the Fraser above
Lytton (Tlk-umtcl'n)—their headquarters from time immemorial—and
thirty-one below.   These are respectively :—
Thompson River. -
1. ThVumtcI'n, present Lytton, meaning
2. N'kau'men, meaning unknown.
3. N'hai'ikEn,        „ „
4. N'kum'tctn, Spence's Bridge, mean
ing unknown.
5. NTcoakoae'tko, yellow water.
6. Plmai'nus, grassy hills.
7. 'P'kai'st, white rock (contracted from
St'pEk = white).
8. Cpa'ptsEn, from Spa'tzin = Asclepias,
or great milk weed, from which
natives make their thread, string,
nets, &c. Place where * Spa'tzin'
9. C'npiV, barren or bare place.
10. Sk-lalc,  place   where   the   Indians
secured a certain mineral earth
with which they covered the face
to prevent it from chapping.
11. N'tai'kum, muddy water.
Nicola Valley.
1. Kluklu'uk, a slide.
2. CQokunQ, a stony place.
3. N'hothotko'as, place of many holes.
4. Koaskuna'.
6. Culu'c,   open  face  (of. radical  for
6. N'cickt, little canon.
7. ZOQkt.
8. Koiltca'na.
9. S'tcukOsh, red place (?).
On Fraser above Lytton.
1. N'homi'n.
2. Stain, Stain Creek.
3. N'Okoie'kEn.
4. YEO't.
6. S'tcaekEn.
6. N'k'lpan, deep.
7. N*ta'-ko, bad water.
8. N'cfck'p't, destroyed (refers to the
incidents of a story).
9. TcEae'q.
10. TsuzeI, palisaded enclosure contain
ing houses.
11. Skaikai'Eten.
On Fraser below Lytton.
1. Spapl'um, level grassy land (river
bench opposite Lytton).
2. N'kai'a.
3. Sk-apa, sandy land.
4. K*ok6lapr, place if strawberries. 22. Tk-koeau'm.
5. Ri'ska, uncle. 23. Sku'zis, Jumping.   Place where the
6. Ahulqa. people were formerly much given
7. N'zatzahatkO, clear water. to jumping.
8. Siuktla'ktKn, crossing place (Indians 24. CkuO'kEm, little hills.
crossed the river in canoe here J.        25. Tca'tua.
9. Statcla'nl,   beyond   the    mountain     2G. SkuOua'kk, skinny (people).
(Jackass Mountain). 27. Tlk'uiluc.
10. N'ko'lam', eddy. 28. C'kuet.
11. NTra'tzam, log bridge across stream. 29. COimp, strong (head village of the
12. K*apasloq, sand roof fa great settle- Lower N'tlaka'pamuQ, just above
ment in former times). Yale).
13. Cuk\ little hollow or valley. 30. Cpu'zum or Spu'zum.   Name has re-
14. Sk'muc, edge of the flat. ference to a custom prevalent here
-15. C'nta'k'tl, bottom of the hill. in the old days.   The people of
16. Spelm, pleasant, grassy, flowery spot. one place would go and sweep
17. Tzau'amuk, noise of rolling stones in the   houses   of   the   people   in
bed of stream, another, and they would return
18. N'pEk'tEm, place where the Indians the compliment next morning at
obtained   the   white   clay   they daybreak.   This was a constant
burnt and used for cleaning wool, practice.
&c. (cf. pEk«= white). 31. N'ka'kim, despised.    Name has re^
19. Ti'metl, place where fed ochre was ference to the poor social condition
obtained. of the inhabitants of this village
20. Klapatci'tcin, North  Bend = sandy in former days.   They were much
landing. looked down upon by the Spuzzum
21. Kleau'kt, rocky bar. people.   Hence the name.
Social Organisation.
The primitive customs of the N'tlaka'pamuQ, like those of their neighbours, have for the most part given way to new ones borrowed from the
whites. Some few are retained in a more or less modified form, and are
still practised by the older people. The social system of the N'tlaka'pamuQ
seems to have been a very simple one. I could hear of nothing in the
way of spcret societies, totemic systems, or the like. The whole group
was comprised under one tribal name, and spoke the same tongue with
slight dialectical differences. They were, however, divided into numerous
village communities, each ruled over by an hereditary chief. Of these
latter there were three of more importance than the rest, viz., the chief of
the lower division of the tribe, whose headquarters was Spu'zum ; the
chief of the Nicola division, which was called by the lower division
Tcua'qamuq; and the chief of the central division, whose headquarters
was Tlk-umtcin (Lytton).1 Of these three the most important was the
chief of the central division. He was lord paramount. The conduct of
affairs in each community was in the hands of the local chief, who was
1 Dr. Boas divides the tribe into five divisions. It is true there are five groups*
but not, in the strict sense of the word, five divisions. There were the central
Tlk-umtcl'nmuQ at the confluence of the Fraser and Thompson (who, together
with the neighbouring communities, constituted the N'tlaka'pamuQoS, i.e., the
N'tlaka'pamuQ proper), and the villages on the Fraser above Tlk-umtcl'n, which
formed the central division; the villages on the upper part of the Thompson, and
those of the Nicola valley, which formed the upper division; and the villages below
the N'tlakapamuQoe, which formed the lower division. Dr. Boas has named this
division, as if it were the divisional name of these lower communities.
This is a misconception. The term means, rather, • below river * people or * down
river' people, and is applied by these very people themselves to the Yale tribe
below them, and by the Yale people again to the other Kau'itcin tribes farther
down the river. I know of no proper • group' name peculiar to the lower division
other than the general term N'tlaka'pamuQ. 6 REPORT—1899.
assisted by a council of elders. In all the relations of life the elders of
the bands played an important part, and in all family consultations their
advice was sought and listened to with the greatest deference and
respect. In addition to the hereditary chiefs, martial chiefs or leaders
were temporarily elected during times of warfare from among the
warriors. It was a rare thing for the district or communal chief to lead
or head a war party. The only part it seems they played was in sanctioning fights and in bidding them cease. My informant told me that
the N'tlaka'pamuQoe chiefs were, as a rule, peace-loving men, always
more anxious to prevent wars than to bring them about; and that the
grandfather of the present Lytton chief would go out after a battle and
purchase the prisoners taken captive in the fight, who were held as slaves
by their captors, and set them free and send them back to their own
people again. How far this was general I cannot say. That war, however, with the neighbouring tribes was not an unusual occurrence is clear
from the fact that it was found necessary to fortify their villages or some
particular portions of them by palisades, inside of which the people would
retire when hard pressed by the enemy. The name of one of the upper
villages close to the boundary of the Stlatlumn bears testimony to this
fact, as it signifies in English 'a palisaded enclosure with houses inside,'
and the old men of Lytton can recall the old fort of their village. These
protective measures would seem to bear out my informant's statements
that the N'tlaka'pamuQ were not a warring people, and all the notes that
I could gather of past encounters with other tribes show the N'tlaka'pamuQ
to be the defenders and not the attackers.
Weapons of Warfare.
The warrior's weapons were the bow and arrow, stone swords, and
clubs, Ac. Of these latter there were several kinds. One of these was a
sling-club formed by inclosing a round stone in a long strip of elk-hide.
The stone was placed in the centre of the strip and securely sewn there,
the ends of the hide being left to swing the weapon by. This was a
deadly weapon in the hands of a skilful person, but awkward to handle
by those not accustomed to its use; for if not properly wielded it was just
as likely to damage the holder as the person he struck at. A wooden
club fashioned from the wood of the wild crab-apple tree was another
effective weapon much used by the warriors. This would sometimes be
studded with spikes of stone or horn. It was fastened to the wrist by a
thong when fighting (see Fig. 1). Besides these there were also stone -
tipped spears or javelins, and elk-horn or stone tomahawks. Poisoned
arrows were' used in warfare, and these were always put in a special
quiver of dogskin. The stone tips of these arrows were always larger
than those used for game. The poison was obtained either from the
rattlesnake or from certain roots. For protection the fighting men wore
a short sleeveless shirt of doubled or trebled elk-hide, which hung from
the shoulders, and was fastened at the sides by thongs. This shirt was
called N'tsk'En in the Thompson tongue. It was usually covered with
painted figures and symbols of war (see Fig. 2) in black, white, and red
paint. The two latter colours were mineral products. Red ochre is
found in considerable quantities within their boundaries. The white
paint was obtained by burning a certain kind of mineral clay which,
when burnt, produced a fine white powder easily converted into paint by
mixing with oil or fat.    This powder was also employed by the women in
the weaving of their goat-hair blankets. A trivial matter or misunderstanding would sometimes bring about a fight. It is recorded that a
party of Indians from the interior paid the Thompsons a visit once upon
FlG. 1.—Ancient war club made from wood of the wild crab-apple tree, after
drawing by Chief Mischelle, of Lytton, B.C.
Fig. 2.—N'tlakapa'muQ Warrior's shirt of the old days, after drawing by Chief
Mischelle, of Lytton.
a time. The visitors wore soles of pitch upon their feet to protect them.
This novel style of foot-gear excited the mirth of the Thompsons so
much that their visitors became deeply offended, and a big fight was the
As far as I could learn the hunting, fishing, and berry grounds of the 8 REPORT—1899.
N'tlaka'pamuQ were common property. But no one under penalty of a
severe punishment could take a tish, pick a berry, or dig a root until after
the Feasts of First Fruits had been held. These feasts were conducted
as follows :—When the salmon, for instance, begin to run word is brought
to the divisional chiefs that the fish are coming up river. Messengers are
then sent to the neighbouring villages, calling a meeting of the people on
a certain day, at which all must attend at the appointed place. When the
day has arrived and the people have assembled, the head chief, attended
by the other lesser ones and the elders, opens the ceremony at daybreak
by a long prayer. While the prayer is being said everybody must stand
with eyes reverently closed. To ensure this being done, as it was regarded
as an essential part of the ceremony, certain of the elders were assigned the
duty of watching that no one opened his eyes while the prayer was being
said. Exactly to whom these prayers were addressed my informant could
not tell me. All I could gather was that the * old Indians ■ believed in
some great and beneficent power who dwelt behind the clouds, and who
gave them the salmon, fruits, roots, <fcc. ; who, if they showed themselves
ungrateful or unthankful, could, and might, withdraw his gifts from them.
He could not give me any of the words of these prayers.1 After the prayer
is over everyone present is given a bit of salmon which has been cooked
for the purpose. As soon as all have partaken of the salmon a feast is
prepared at which each is free to eat as much as he desires. When the
meal is concluded, a dance takes place. Each person lets down his or her
hair and a space is cleared for the dancers. Singing always accompanies
the dancing, and a certain individual leads the dance song in a loud voice,
and the dancers keep time with the singer. They dance on this occasion
in a circle, with the hands extended, palm upwards, before them, swaying
them with a rhythmic motion from side to side as they sing and dance.
Towards the conclusion of the dance the time quickens and the movements are more rapid and vigorous. As the dance is about to end the
master of the ceremonies calls to the people to stretch their palms
towards the sky and look upwards. They continue in this attitude for a
little while and the chief presently brings his hands together, closing them
as he does so, as if he held something in them, and lowers them gently to
the level of his breast and then places them, one fist over the other,
against his breast. This action signifies the reception of the gifts asked
for in the prayer and song. The whole ceremony is conducted throughout
with the greatest decorum and reverence. This dance is repeated again
at noon and at sunset. The Feast of Berries and Roots is conducted in a
similar manner. Besides these periodic prayings, daily prayers were said
by one of the elders in each i keekwilee-house' every morning at daybreak, all the worshippers closing their eyes reverently the whole time and
repeating in an earnest tone the closing formula Aksai'as, which signified
to them very much what our Amen does to us.
Other dances were indulged in at times besides these at the Feasts of
First Fruits, at which all the actors sat and swung their extended hands,
palm upwards, from side to side, keeping time to a song called K'dia'tct.
1 In an account of the training of the young men of the tribe given below, the
young man addresses his prayer to a being called Koana'hoa, who is the giver of the
gifts he desires. From the strong resemblance this word bears to those having
reference to the sun, and to heat, day, &e., I am disposed to think this being to
whom the N'tlaka'pamuQ addressed their prayers was the Sun God of the Coast
tribes (see below). #
The N'tlaka'pamuQ apparently never used masks of any kind at their
dances, such paraphernalia being quite unknown to them.
Puberty customs seem to have been much simpler among the N'tlaka'pamuQ than among other tribes. All I could gather concerning them
was that when a girl arrived at puberty she must withdraw herself from
her family for a time and live apart by herself. I could not gather that
any particular course of life was prescribed for the occasion, or that she
was forbidden to eat certain kinds of food. It would appear that their
whole lives were much simpler and more natural than those of their congeners elsewhere. We see this in their marriage customs, for instance,
which are simple compared with those of other tribes, or even with those
of the ' Stalo ' or River Indians below them.
Marriage Customs.
When a youth arrived at marriageable age he generally had a maiden
in his eye whom he wished for wife. He would first put himself in her
way and they would stroll out together. .He would next send her little
presents from time to time. If she was not averse to his suit she would
accept these ; if otherwise she would refuse them. If his gifts were accepted he would then declare his liking for her, and tell her he would give
her a year to make up her mind in the matter. If things went smoothly
during this period, at the end of the time he would then send a present by
a friendly elder of his family to the girl's parents. If they accept the
present they call together the relatives and friends of the family, who discuss the subject; and if the young man is acceptable to the majority of
| them, the girl's father takes  an  elk-hide,  cuts it into strips of useful
lengths, and gives each one present a piece. This witnesses to their agreement. After this has been done one of the old men of the girl's family
goes to the young man and informs him that his suit is acceptable to the
family, and that he may have the girl for wife. Supposing that a majority
of the family be against him his present is returned and he is notified as
before that he cannot have the girl, and must look elsewhere for a wife.
When he has been accepted the bridegroom goes the day following to the
girl's home, accompanied by all his friends and relations, who carry food
and other gifts with them. A feast is prepared from this food, the gifts
are distributed, and a general good time is indulged in. After the meal
is over the old people declare themselves satisfied with the arrangements
in a loud voice. The young man and his bride are now man and wife,
and share the same blanket that night. Next day the girl returns with
her husband to his home, and some days later her parents and relatives
\$ come and pay them a return visit, bringing with them also food and gifts.
A second feast is then prepared, the gifts are distributed, and all partake
of the food as before. This concludes the marriage ceremony, the pair
after this being regarded as man and wife by the whole community. A
man was free to marry whom he might outside of his own family.
Shamanism was prevalent among the N'tlaka'pamuQ. This we can
gather readily enough from their stories, and certain spots and localities
are pointed out by the older Indians as the places where certain celebrated
Shamans underwent their fasts and training to gain their powers. There
are several such spots on the banks of Stain Creek, a mountain stream
^v-i^-p^-^ 10 REPORT—1899.
that runs into the Fraser about five miles above Lytton. Worn and
hollowed places are pointed out here and there, and these are said to have
been made by the feet of the aspirants after Shamanistic powers in the
performance of their exercises. We find several groups of rock paintings
along this creek, which are believed by the present Indians to have been
made in the past by noted Shamans. It is interesting to note that these
paintings are invariably found high up on the cliff surfaces above the
reach of the tallest man—in some cases as high as twenty or thirty feet
from the ground. It is clear, therefore, that they must have used some
kind of ladder or platform to reach these heights. This, to the Indian
mind, always adds to their mystery. The modern Indians seem to have
no knowledge of the signification of these paintings, and say that the
pigments used by themselves will not stand the weather or endure like
those of the ancients.
The ceremony of name-giving was observed by the N'tlaka'pamuQ
nobility. It would appear that when a child was born it might be called
by any name. Later, when he had grown up, his parents gave a great
feast, to which all the friends of the family were invited, and a name was
then chosen from among the names of his dead ancestors and bestowed
upon him by which he was thereafter known. Among the common
people the men kept the names given at birth, or had nicknames applied
to them.
Mortuary Customs.
Very little could be learned directly of their ancient mortuary customs.
They have been so long under missionary influences that their old practices have for the most part died out and been forgotten. A few of these,
however, they still keep up, such as cutting the hair short and special
washings or cleansings in the river. The widow must not lie in her bed,
but on branches spread on the floor, and every morning she must undergo
a purification by washing her body with fir-tips. This is kept up for a
longer or shorter time, as the widow's feelings dictate or prompt.
I could not learn that slaves were ever killed at the burial of their
masters; and there is certainly nothing in the disposal of the bodies of
the ancient dead, as far as is now discoverable, to warrant a belief in such
practices. In modern burials horses and colts are frequently killed, but
not, my informant was at pains to tell me, for sacrificial or religious
purposes, but that their flesh might supply food for the burial feast. The
skins of these slain animals were afterwards hung upon the branches of
some neighbouring tree. I have seen several of these skins myself on
trees near the burial grounds.
Birth Customs.
The birth customs, like the death customs, have also been much
modified by missionary influence. In the days before the whites, when a
child was born, it was wrapped in a bundle of the soft inner bark of the cedar
prepared for the purpose. Later it was wrapped in soft skins and placed
in its cradle, which was (and still is) made, in the case of the poorer class
of natives, from birch-bark, and in the case of the better class from neatly
woven basket-work. It would seem that no cradle was ever used twice
over for different children, but after the child had grown out of it, and 'Y
needed it no longer, it was taken to the burial ground and placed in or
under a tree with all the paraphernalia belonging to it wrapped up inside ;
or was suspended to the branches or placed in a fork of a tree in the
forest. I nave myself found many such thus placed or hidden away. In
the modern cradle one invariably finds the bottom lined with a piece of tin
cut from the side of a kerosene can. This in former days was, of course,
impossible. They are also sometimes highly decorated with the brass cases
of rifle cartridges fastened through the cap-hole by thongs to the edge of the
cradle. They doubtless had a practical as well as an aesthetic value. The
jingle of them would attract the infant's attention and amuse it. Infants
X were, and still are, always nursed and dandled in the cradle, which the
mother alwajs carries about with her. On Sundays nothing is commoner
where there is a church than to see the mothers bringing their cradles to
the service with them. When the child is fretful they rock the cradle
on their knees or set it upright so that the child may look about it and
see what is going on. Generally the head of the cradle is covered with a
movable hood, which can be pushed back or drawn forward at will.
Tattooing and Painting.
Tattooing was, and to some extent still is, practised by the women.
The commonest marks are three parallel lines. On old women these are
seen on the side of the face, and sometimes on the chin, but on the
younger ones more commonly on the wrist or arm. I made many
inquiries, but was unable to discover what signification these marks had
J other than that they were decorative.    I am disposed to think, however,
that in earlier days they had some special significance, this particular
marking of three simple lines being so common and so universal among
the women. The women also formerly pierced the septum of the nose, in
which the dentalium shell was worn. Facial and body paintings were
quite common among the men of the N'tlaka'pamuQ. To express joy they
painted the face white and red, as we learn from their stories. The
warrior always painted his face before going into battle, and the youths
in their morning sports and exercises covered their bodies with all kinds
of fanciful designs.
They were fond of games, like their neighbours, and utilised the level
grassy river benches for various games of ball.    One of these games,
called by them suk' -kul-lila' -ka, was not unlike our own game of football.
The players were divided,, as with us, into two groups, and at each end of
l ± the field was a goal formed by two poles planted several feet asunder.
The play commenced from the middle of the field, and the object of the
players was to get the ball through the goal of their adversaries. The
ball was made from some kind of tree fungus, cut round and covered with
elk-hide. I could not learn anything of the rules of the game ; nor was
my informant certain whether the feet or hands, or both, were used in
propelling the ball. Mention is made of this game in one of the stories
here recorded. Gambling was also a favourite pastime here as elsewhere.
The game known by the term L'tpiq was that commonly practised.
Much betting went on among the players, and all bets were made and
1 bookedVbefore the game commenced. The method of 'booking'was
primitive. The objects staked were simply tied or fastened together and
set on one side till the game was over, the winner then taking his own
„.,   ,    _.,.—T_ 1%2 .• REPORT—1S99.
and his opponent's property. The game seems to have consisted in
declaring in which hand the player held the marked one of two otherwise similar short bone rods, which could easily be held in the closed
palm. My informant possessed a pair of these, which he was good
enough to give me. Besides these two rods there were also twelve short
pieces of wood used as well. These seemed to have played the part of
counters, but of this I am not certain, this part of the game not being
clear to me.
The old-time clothing has entirely gone out of use, with the exception
of the moccasin, which is still almost exclusively worn by the old people
of both sexes. A man's clothing in former days consisted of a shirt
which reached to his middle, made from the skin of the elk, deer, coon,
or ground-hog. Below this he wore leggings of deer-skin or other suitable material which reached to the top of the thigh. In addition to this
he would sometimes wear a breech-clout of skin. For his feet he had
neatly made moccasins ; and for his head, when he so desired it, a cap of
the skin of the porcupine or of a loon with the feathers on. Commonly
they wore no head covering, living as they did mostly within the dry
belt of the province. The dress of the women of the nobler class consisted of a long doe-skin shroud or smock, reaching from the neck to the
feet, and tied in at the waist with a band fastened on either side (see
Fig. 3). They were usually fringed at the side seams and at the upper
and lower seams of the arms. They were also, in the case of chiefs'
wives and daughters, at times profusely decorated with beads, shells, and
other ornamentation. Hie native name for this garment was tlatlu'k.
Below these they sometimes wore leggings called matta's, and on their
feet finely wrought moccasins. The commoner women and female slaves
wore only a short skirt, and went bare-legged and bare-footed.
The sweat-house was and still is a great institution among the
N'tlaka'pamuQ. My informant, who on my last visit to Lytton was
suffering from paralysis of his lower limbs, was looking forward. to the
time when he would be so far recovered as to be able to take a sweat-
bath. The method of taking the bath appears to be the same here as
elsewhere, and as a description of these houses has been given before by
Dr. G. M. Dawson, it will be unnecessary for me to give it here.
The food of the N'tlaka'pamuQ depended somewhat upon the location
of the various divisions of the tribe. The chief food of the Thompsons
was venison, and the men of this district were usually skilful hunters and
trappers. They sometimes followed the game with the bow and arrow,
accompanied by dogs trained to pull down the quarry ; but most of their
game was taken by means of traps and snares of various kinds. Of these
the noose, pit, and drop-snares were the commonest. Mention is made
of the noose snare for catching deer in one of the stories given below.
On the Fraser below Lytton the Indians were mostly fishers and poor
hunters. Their method of taking the salmon between Lytton and Yale
was by means Of the dip-net. When the salmon are running, the Indians
may be seen in great numbers thus fishing on the banks of the river. ON THE ETHNOLOGICAL SVKVEY  OF CANADA.
Fig. 3.—Pattern of ancient dress of a chief's wife or daughter, after drawing
by Chief Mischelle, of Lytton, B.C.   Material, soft doe-skin.
U 14
This net scarcely needs description : its name implies its use and form.
Briefly it is a meshed bag, from three to four feet deep, attached to a
hoop-like frame, to which a long slim pole is fastened. The fisher holds
this pole in his two hands, and dips in the net on the up-stream side of
him, with its mouth towards the current* and draws it slowly and
regularly against the stream, as far as the pole allows, and then returns
it in the air and repeats the action again. He continues thus till he has
secured a fish. The women stand by to receive the fish, which they kill
by a blow on the head. They then quickly and deftly cut it open, wrench
off the head by inserting a stick through one of the gills and out through
the mouth, and giving it a dexterous turn of the wrist, cut out the backbone, spread the two halves open, and hang it up to dry in an open shed
constructed of poles for the purpose near by on the bank. Scores of
these may still be seen along the line of the railway as one passes from Yale
to Lytton. The knives which the women use for this are fashioned after
the pattern of their own old implement, and are quite commonly made
from a piece of an old hand-saw about five or six inches long, on the back
of which is secured a grooved piece of rounded wood about one and a half
inches thick, which runs the whole length of the steel, and serves as a
handle. The opposite or blade edge is ground down, and the ends are
rounded, having, when completed, very much the appearance of a meat
or suet chopper. I was told by some Indian women whom I watched at
work that they prefer this style of knife to any other ; and to judge by
the dexterous manner in which they ran the edge from the vent upwards
along the belly of the fish, opened it out, cut out the backbone, and had
it ready for drying, it certainly is an effective instrument for the purpose
in their hands.
Above Lytton on the Thompson, where the water is too clear for
catching fish in nets, they spear them by torchlight. The fish show
white at night under the glare of the torches, and the men go out in
canoes and spear them readily. The spearman occupies the centre of the
canoe, and when the salmon, attracted by the glare of the torches, come
near, he throws his spear at it and rarely misses his mark. The fish is
now quickly seized by one of the others, knocked on the head, the spear
withdrawn, and the fish thrown to the bottom of the canoe.
Salmon OH and Butter.
The N'tlaka'pamuQ had another way of treating the salmon besides
drying them. They extracted oil from them in considerable quantities.
To do this they would place some forty or fifty fish, according to their
size, in a large trough which they hollowed out from the trunk of a tree,
as they did their canoes, with fire and adze. When the salmon were ripe,
that is in a rotten state, water was poured in upon the mass in sufficient
quantities to just cover the whole. Heated stones were then put in and
the whole mass stirred till it was reduced to a hot pulp. The stones
were then taken out and a pailful of cold water was poured on, which
caused the oil to rise to the top. The oil was at this stage of a reddish
tinge, and had, so say the Indians, no offensive smell. It was now
skimmed off into birch-bark buckets with a spoon, made sometimes from
the horn of the mountain sheep and sometimes of wood. It was
allowed to stand over night and boiled afresh next day and skimmed till
quite clear. The oil was then stored away in bottles very ingeniously
made from whole skins of medium-sized salmon.    The skin for this pur. ON THE ETHNOLOGICAL SURVEY OF CANADA. V
v f
pose was drawn from the salmon much as one draws off a tight fitting
glove that will not come off without being turned inside out. It was
then carefully cleaned by rubbing with dry punk-wood, after which it
was rubbed with deer or mountain-sheep suet. The skin was then ready,
and was turned right side out; the oil was poured in and the mouth securely
fastened. In the meantime the flesh of the salmon had not been
neglected. After the oil had been skimmed off, the water was strained
away and the remains worked up and kneaded into balls and put in the
sun to dry. While drying it was occasionally smelt to see that it was
sweet and devoid of flavour. After a time it was squeezed and washed
Vj and kneaded again and put to dry once more.    When quite dry and free
from all smell it was broken up and rubbed fine between the hands till
it took on the appearance of flour. Some of this was then placed in the
bottom of a birch-bark basket, and on this were laid the bottles of oil ;
and when the basket was full more of the salmon flour was spread over
the top and down the sides until the bottles were encased and buried in
it. The whole was then stowed away for winter consumption. In addition to this way of preserving the oil, they had another way of treating
it. A kind of butter was manufactured from it by mixing it with equal
quantities of the best kidney suet, taken from the deer or, preferably,
from the mountain sheep. The oil and suet were boiled up together,
thoroughly mixed, and then set to cool. When cool the compound had
the consistency of butter, and wa3 esteemed a great delicacy among the
natives. It was eaten, among other things, with the compressed cakes
which they made from the service (amalanchier) and other berries, of
f fc   8 which great quantities grow in their region.    Only the wealthier class
could afford food of this kind. Besides venison and fish, wild fruit of all
such kinds as grew in their neighbourhood and was edible, and roots and
many kinds of herbs, were eaten. As Dr. G. M. Dawson has given a list
of these, with their botanical names, and has also described with some
detail their method of preparing them in his 'Xotes on the Shuswap
People of British Columbia,' it will be unnecessary for me to enumerate
, them here.
For boiling their food the N'tlaka'pamuQ always used basket kettles
made like their other basketry from the split roots of the cedar.1 These
roots are sometimes dyed red and black, and very beautiful patterns aro
made from the three different colours. According to my informant, the
red dye was obtained from the bark of the alder-tree, and the dark stain
was obtained by soaking the roots in black slime or mud.2    So skilfully
1 Dr. G. M. Dawson, in his cNote3 on the Shuswap People of British Columbia,*
tells us that these baskets were made from roots of the spruce, and Dr. Boas, in
bis Report on the Shuswaps, informs us that the basketry of the Shuswaps and
N'tlaka'pamuQ was made from the roots of the white pine. I cannot say what
material the Shuswaps constructed their baskets from, but if my informant is
correct, the N'tlaka'pamuQ aiwajs used the root of the cedar; and I know no better
authority among the Thompson Indians than Chief Mischelle, of Lytton, from whom
to obtain information of this kind. [As the N'tlaka'pamuQ were pre-eminent in
basket-making, it is possible that the information gained by Mr. Hill-Tout may be
accepted as correct, although the cedar {Thuya) is not abundant in the Thompsou
River country.—G. M. D.]
2 According to Dr. Boas the black dye was obtained from the fern root. It is
possible it was got in both ways. 16 REPORT—1899.
did the women make these baskets that they would hold liquids without-
trouble. In preparing any food two kettles were customarily used-—one
containing water for washing off any dirt that might adhere to the heated
stones, and the other for holding the food. In boiling salmon for eating
the fish were tied up in birch bark to prevent breaking and falling to
The house furniture and utensils were few and simple. Tables and
chairs, of such like conveniences, were quite unknown. Wooden dishes,
hollowed out from the solid block by means of stone, bone, or beaver-teeth
chisels, and wooden or horn spoons were sometimes used by the wealthier
class ; but usually the food was served up and eaten off reed mats, which
served also as seats, carpets, and beds. These latter were commonly laid
directly on the ground, which was strewed with the bushy ends of fir
branches. The beds of the common people were simply a few reed mats,
but in the houses of the chiefs and headmen these were supplemented
with skins and blankets woven from the hair of the mountain sheep or
goat. The people always disrobed when going to bed, and as there
were no division or apartments in the ' keekwilee-houses,' but for the
dusk there could not have been much privacy about the matter. Yet it
is clear from their folk-tales that the maidens of the upper ranks, at least,
were modest and diffident, and when out bathing always chose the most
secluded spots, and were as embarrassed and shamed at being seen naked
as any white maiden might be. I have been struck again and again in
my work among the Indians with this keen sense of modesty in the
girls of the interior, particularly those who have come under the influence
of the Sisters.
The houses of the N'tlaka'pamuQ resembled those of the other interior
tribes. For the greater part of the year they lived in semi-subterranean
dwellings known in the trade jargon as ' keekwilee-houses.' These
houses, of which there is no perfect specimen left in the province,
were of varying dimensions. Those of Lytton were from 30 to 50 feet
in diameter. Nothing of them now remains but the saucer-like depressions which mark the spots where they formerly stood. As a description of these dwellings has been given both by Dr. Boas in his Reports,
and by Dr. G. M. Dawson in his ■ Notes,' &c, it will be unnecessary
for me to give another here. I will only say that the dimensions of
these dwellings as given by the above writers fall considerably below the
dimensions of those commonly found among the central and lower
divisions of the N'tlaka'pamuQ. Of the upper I cannot speak from personal knowledge. Dr. GL M. Dawson speaks of those he saw as having
a diameter of from 10 to 30 feet; and Dr. Boas describes his as having
a diameter of from 12 to 15 feet.1 The shortest diameter to be found on
the old camp site at Lytton was 34 feet, and they rise from this to 54
feet; and the old men of the neighbourhood, whom I questioned on this
matter, and most of whose lives had been spent in them, informed me that
60 and even 70 feet were not uncommon diameters. There is one now,
which I measured in company with Mr Harlan Smith, of the New York
Museum of Natural History, on the left bank of Stain Creek, not far
1 The dimensions given by me were not from actual measurement, and I am ready
to accept Mr. Hill-Tout's figures. Dr. Boas' illustration of the construction of these
houses, in one of the Reports of the B. A. A. S. Committee on the N. W. tribes, is
incorrect, as afterwards stated by him. The actual method of construction is shown
in a diagram in my paper, here several times referred to by Mr. Hill-Tout.—G. M. D. ON THE ETHNOLOGICAL SURVEY OF CANADA.
from where it joins the Fraser, that measures 59 feet from the posthole
on one side to the corresponding hole on the other. These dwellings were
usually inhabited by several families, more or less closely related to one
another ; and in the very large ones sixty or seventy souls would often pass
the winter together. Commonly there was but one fire in the centre, but
if the weather was very cold smaller fires would be kindled near the four
great supporting poles. Fires were also at times lighted here for culinary
purposes, when many families inhabited the same house. The floors of
these houses were kept covered with small fir branches, which were
renewed about every three or four days. The entrance to these houses
was through the smoke-hole in the roof, a notched tree which projected
some way beyond the hole being used as a means of ascent and descent.
The central space between the four supporting poles was common ground
in the centre of which was the fire. Behind this, under the sloping
roofs, each family or group had its own quarters.
The summer dwellings were extremely simple, consisting merely of a
framework of light poles covered with mats or wattled, and all cooking
was done in the open air. The food supplies of the central N'tlaka'pamuQ
were invariably stored in caches, i.e., holes in the ground, which were
roofed with poles or boards, and then again covered with earth or sand.
The food was commonly protected from the soil or sand by bark. Remains of these caches or cellars, with rolls of birch and other bark in
them, may be seen at any of the old camp sites. Many such, now filled
with sand to the level of the surrounding ground, are found at Tlk-unitel'n.
In the lower division and elsewhere small sheds were erected on poles
standing from 5 to 10 feet above the ground, to be out of the reach of dogs
and other animals. As a rule these structures are found only where the
ground is rocky, or of such a nature as makes excavations difficult or
impossible, as along the Fraser Caiion above Yale.
Hospitality was recognised as a virtue, and practised as a duty, among
the N'tlaka'pamuQ, and everyone was constrained to offer the stranger or
visitor the best he possessed.1
The N'tlaka'pamuQ had many singular and superstitious customs and
practices, some of which we may gather from their folk-tales. Some of
these they still practise. For instance, when roots are to be baked,
women only must do it. I could learn no satisfactory reason for this.
The old-time training for young men has many interesting and unique
features about it. Of these I learnt the following, none of which are any
longer practised. In the days before the advent of the whites, when a
youth wanted to fit himself to become a hardy hunter, he would go down
to the river's edge at the close of the salmon run, when the carcasses of
dead and maggot-filled salmon would be found lying along the banks in
great numbers, and thrust his hands up to the wrists in the rotting,
maggoty mass, and keep them there for hours together. This was said to
harden them, so that they became impervious to the cold when out
hunting in cold weather. They would do this many times in their late
boyhood.    Another method of attaining the same end was to lie down at
1 See the story of Snikla'p, &c, p. C5.
H 4-3 18 REPORT—1899.
the edge of the river all night with the hands and wrists soaking in the
cold water. They would also repeat this many times before the desired
callousness to cold was attained. The old people affirm that the young
inen of their day and earlier were hardier and stronger than the young
men of to-day. They say the present youths would succumb to the
training and hardening endured by their grandfathers. In the old days
a youth was generally ambitious of becoming a great hunter, or warrior,
or runner, or athlete generally. To acquire a superiority over his fellows
he was ready for the greatest acts of self-denial and self-discipline. This
spirit of emulation was encouraged and enjoined by the elders, and they
were taught to pray to the great spirit known as Koana'koa, and seek gifts
from him in the following manner. When a young man desired any
special blessing or gift, he would rise early in the morning, some time
before daybreak, and go alone and unseen to the top of some hill or eminence, or to the river's side and pray. This act in itself required, on his
part, no small courage and self-conquest, the forest and mountains at
night being peopled in the lively imagination of the Indian with spirits
and shades of all kinds. If he sought for some physical athletic gift he
would practise himself therein as well as pray for it in words like the
following: ' O KoanakOa,l make my arm strong, my chest strong, my
legs untiring. Make all my body strong ; make my. heart good. Make
me a great hunter, a great man, a great warrior, a great runner or jumper,'
as the case might be.
In order shat the prayers and exercises might be efficacious, it was
necessary that the suppliant should arise before any one was awake
or stirring ; and his prayers and exercises must be finished and he on his
way home before the sun appeared above the horizon. He does this
three mornings successively, and if he has been careful to observe the
rules and conditions twice out of the three times at least, his prayers will
be granted, and he will receive the gifts asked for. If, on the contrary,
he has been lazy and careless, and did not rise early enough, and was seen
leaving the camp, or did not perform his exercises or say his prayers
before sunrise, instead of his requests being granted some evil gift will be
given him instead.
Besides these special trainings and exercises undertaken at their own
desire, there were the daily morning exercises. The young men of the
village were accustomed to turn out early in the morning and "go to the
river to swim, after which they would return to the camp and indulge
in various  athletic  exercises.     There  are  two big boulders standing
1 It is interesting to note here that the name of the power to whom the youths'
prayers are addressed contains the same radical as is found in the Nootka and
Kwakiutl terms for 'morning', viz., Koa'-koai'la and Ko'atl, which both signify that
light or day is coming. The same root is found in the Coast Salish terms for day
identical in form or slightly modified,* as Koa-(yil) and Skua-(yil), and which in
these dialects signifies sky also. It is also seen in the terms of both stocks for red
and blue, and for the terms expressive of heat and warmth. There can be little
doubt, I think, that this being was associated in the minds of the suppliants with
the sun, or .sky, or light, all of which are intimately connected. I have pointed
out in another paper (see Proceedings of the Royal Society of Canada for 1898-99)
that the Salish and Nootka-Kwakiutl were originally an undivided people, or had
a common origin, the two languages being full of common terms of all kinds
employed in identically the same way, and that between the extreme members of
the stocks, rather than those contiguous to each other, between whom we know
no intercourse or communication has taken place from time immemorial. K^fM
i    *'J
in the midst of the village site of the old Lytton people. They are
of irregular shape, 10 and 4^ feet high respectively and about 20 feet
apart. Their perimeters are 31 and 27 feet respectively. After the
Tlkumtoi'nmuQ youths had been in the river it was the custom for them
to exercise themselves near these rocks. They would run in succession up
the side on to the top of the lower one, pause there a moment, and then
run down the side facing the other rocks, reach it in three strides, and
leap upon the top. They would then shake their clubs and spears as if
defying an enemy, leap down again, and run at the boulders with uplifted
weapon, as if they were enemies. Those practices have long since been
given up, and the youths of the present day are very different from those
of the past.
The N'tlaka'pamuQoe used three different kinds of canoes, the birch-
bark, cedar, and skin canoe. The commonest and that most preferred for
ordinary use was the birch-bark canoe. Sometimes the place of this
would be taken by one constructed from cedar hollowed from the log in
the usual way by means of fire and adzes. The skin canoe, made by
stretching the skin of an elk or caribou over a framework of wood, was
essentially the hunter's canoe, and was mainly employed by him in ferrying himself and his belongings over bodies of water that lay in his path
when out hunting. The paddles for both the skin and bark canoes were
double-bladed.    For the cedar canoe a single-bladed paddle was employed.
Under this heading, and as announced in the last report of this
Committee, I had prepared a somewhat lengthy paper, before the
American Museum of Natural History had published Mr. Harlan Smith's
Report on the Archaeology of Lytton and Neighbourhood. But, as this
publication covers the same ground as my own, it will be unnecessary
at this time to publish a second report of this area. I shall therefore
simply add a few further remarks upon the method of stone-cutting
employed by the old-time dwellers in this region, as evidenced by the
partially cut stones themselves, recovered from the ancient camp sites of
this locality. In his report Mr. Smith inclines to the opinion that the
cutting was done by sandstone slips or flakes. That many of the cuts
were effected in this way there can be no doubt, as I pointed out some two
years ago ; the bevelled sandstone grinders found in great numbers on
the old camp-sites fitting these grooves to a nicety. And that these can
\s   ff make grooves of this kind in the greenstone boulders I have demonstrated
by grinding them out myself. Indeed it surprised me to find how raadily
the hard serpentine or harder nephrite (jade) could be grooved in this way.
But all the boulders were not so cut. Dr. G. M. Dawson was informed
by some of the old men at Lytton that the old people used to cut out
their jade, adzes, and chisels from the block by means of quartz crystals.
Chief Mischelle also made the same statement to me, and explained
further how they effected it. Having selected a suitable boulder the
stone-cutter would fasten two strips of wood together at a distance of
about half an inch apart, something after the principle of parallel ruler,
only the parallels are rigid in this case. This he laid upon the surface of
his block for holding his crystal in place and keeping his line straight,
the cutting utensil working to and fro between the parallel bars or strips.
u 4—4
™ 11
20 REPORT—1899.
When the groove is sufficiently deep to hold the cutter in place, this
apparatus is thrown aside and the cutting is continued without its aid.
Water is used throughout the process to keep the cut clean and open.
Rock crystals of various kinds were employed for the purpose, agate being
a favourite. I have attempted cutting the jade block with an agate
crystal myself; and, although the progress is not so rapid as with the
sandstone grinder, the crystal soon cuts into the stone, and there can
be no doubt that the boulders can be cut in this manner. And that
they were so cut sometimes in the old days is perfectly clear from the
evidence of the grooves themselves, which in such cases are entirely
different from the curvilinear grooves made by the bevelled sandstone.
They are distinctly angular, and the bottom of the cut narrows to a point,
the outline of the cut having the appearance of a triangle standing on
its apex. Mr. Smith must either have secured no specimens of this
kind of grooving or have overlooked the difference between this and the
rounded grooves given in his illustrations.
The advantage of cutting with a crystal over the sandstone grinder
would appear to be a saving of material, less of the block being cut away
in the process ; and although there is no scarcity of greenstone blocks, they
are not all of jade or of the first quality, and this fact may have weighed
with the cutter at times. In any case, whatever the reason may have
been, the fact remains that the ancient stone cutters employed both crystal
and sandstone to cut out their adzes and chisels from the rough block.
The polish afterwards put upon these and other of their polished tools and
utensils was effected by first rubbing with rushes and afterwards with the
naked hand. The old Indians would sit for hours together by the camp
fire rubbing a stone in this manner ; and I was informed that the polish
found on some of the highly finished stone pestles or hammers would take
more than one person's lifetime to effect. I secured some good examples
of the crystal-cut boulders in my last visit to Lytton. Some of these are
now in the Provincial Museum at Victoria, and a particularly interesting
specimen I recently forwarded to the Dominion Geological Survey Museum
at Ottawa. This last is doubly interesting from the fact that it exhibits
in itself the two different modes of cut tins:, some of the grooves being
curvilinear in section and some angular. The workman who owned this
block, however, favoured the grindstone method, for on one of its surfaces we find three shallow, rounded grooves, parallel to each other, as if
the cutter had been marking the block off into sections to see how many
pieces he could cut out of it. It is quite possible that the cutter found it
easier to start his cuts by grinding, and when the groove was deep enough
to hold his crystal, he finished the cut by this means. This particular
block favours this idea. At any rate it is perfectly clear that there were
two methods of cutting employed, and not one as indicated by Mr.
I concur with Mr. Smith in his conclusion that there is no evidence
for supposing the old-time dwellers on these prehistoric camp sites to be
of a different race from the present tribes. No evidence as yet has been
gathered which takes us back more than a few centuries at most.
Mr. Smith secured many skulls from this locality, and it would have been
interesting if the indices of these had been compared with the indices of
the heads of the present N'tlaka'pamuQ. I think they will be found
interesting. In speaking of the arrow-heads of this district Mr. Smith
remarked that the prehistoric points were invariably larger than the more
modern ones.   This appears to me to be a misconception on his part.   His
collection of arrow heads is not as large as mine, nor is he, perhaps, as
\ familiar with the several varieties as I am ; and from my own observation,
as well as from the reports of others who have worked on these grounds,
I should say the reverse was the case if there is any difference at all, or if
this difference can be determined, which I much doubt. It has always
been considered one of the peculiarities of this district that so many very
small arrow-heads have been found there. I have myself seen scores less
than half an inch in length. Indeed, some of them seemed too small
for practical purposes, but the old Indians say they were undoubtedly
f used for game, while the bigger ones were used in warfare.
Another point of interest on which a few further remarks will not be
out of place is the number of knives and ' flakes' found in these old
burial grounds. These are at Tlk-umtcl'n commonly formed from a kind
of obsidian, called by Dr. G. M. Dawson augite-porphyrite. At least 75
per cent, of these are chipped on one or more of their edges. On the
other side of the river large quantities of agate, chalcedony and jasper
of various colours have been found in the old burying grounds. These
latter resemble closely the flint knives, flakes, and scrapers found in the
old mounds in England. Except for the difference in material it would
be impossible to distinguish between the two. On inquiry from the old
Indians as to what purpose the ancients put these small knives and
flakes, I was informed they employed them to cut or scarify their bodies,
particularly their legs. 'It lets out the bad blood,'said one old man,
[ j ' and makes a man good and strong.'    One of the peculiarities of these
flakes or knives is that a considerable number of them are more or less
curved in form. Whether these forms are accidental or otherwise I
am unable to determine.
Physical Characteristics.
Owing to the absence of most of the men from Lytton and the neighbouring villages during my last visit to them, and the extreme reluctance
on the part of such of the women as remained at home to be measured or
photographed, I am unable to add any new matter of importance to
our knowledge of the physical characteristics of N'tlaka'pamuQ. Dr. Boas
has already shown that the men of this tribe are a finer and taller race
than their congeners on the coast. This fact is so patent that it requires
no comparative measurements to demonstrate it. This is probably due to
two distinct causes—environmental conditions and intermixture with
non-Salishan tribes. With regard to the first, while the lower Fraser and
y& j coast tribes spent a large portion of their lives squatting in canoes on the
water, the N'tlaka'pamuQ spent the larger portion of theirs in hunting and
land exercise ; and with regard to the second, the presence of two distinct
types among the people clearly reveals itself in their countenances. The
photographs I secured at Lytton will make this quite clear. The difference in colour, too, is also here more remarkable than in any other group
I am familiar with, and this incidentally supports the evidence I have
set forth elsewhere of an oceanic origin for the ancestors of the Salish
stock. Some of the natives are fairer that the darker races of Europe,
while others recall strongly the dark hue of the Tungan Islanders. They
are more than swarthy ; and the other characteristics of their features are
negroid of the Oceanic type.
Intermediate types between these two extremes are of course common, 22 report—1899.
but if a large number of people were brought together the observer would
have no difficulty in classifying them under one or other of the two predominant types. The same holds good equally, or more so, of the cast of
countenance. In the one we see the high, prominent cheek bones, the
squat, concave nose, and thick, coarse lips ; in the other the cheek bones
are inconspicuous, the nose straight or slightly aquiline and pointed, and
the lips of average thickness. In this latter type the ear is small and
very finely developed, and sits close to the head.
In the following linguistic notes on the Lower N'tlaka'pamuQ, I have spared no
pains to make them as accurate and reliable as possible.. I did not content myself
with obtaining information from one or two persons, but checked my notes again
and again with different individuals whenever an opportunity offered. As far as my
notes go I think they may be relied upon as trustworthy and accurate. I am largely
indebted to an educated young woman named Ma'li, who was for many years at the
mission school at Yale, for my knowledge of the grammar and structure of
N'tlaka'pamuQ.   She is a member of the Lower N'tlaka'pamuQ.
l as in English pt'que
A as in
a       „
a       „
English hat
„     father
„      a\\
6           U
e        „
B          „
„      pond
„      tone
„      hud
„      hoot
„      aisle
„      cow
„      boil
The vowel sounds in the N'tlaka'pamuQ tongue, as in others of this region, are
frequently very indefinite. The short vowels are practically interchangeable. In the
mouths of many Indians o and u run into one another. The same may be said of a,
d, ai, and 8, and of i and I.
t, as in English. This does not appear to interchange with our d, which as far as
my experience goes is an unknown sound in Lower N'tlaka'pamuQ.
g, k, as in English.
g-, k*, somewhat as in the English word lack, but more forcibly and gutturally,
q, as in the German ch in Bach.
Q, approximately like our wh in the word who, but rather more forcibly than we
commonly utter it.
H, as in German eh in ioh.
h, as in the English word house or Aow.
y, as in English; b, p, w, m, n, 1, s, as in English; c = shin English; tc = ch
in church; ts, tz, as uttered in English; dj = English j; tl, an explosive 1. This
latter sound as often resembles kl as tl. I have, however, followed Dr. Boas* usage
and written it invariably as tl. The dl (dorso-apical) of some of the other dialects
1 could not detect in the Lower N'tlaka'pamuQ.
The commonest interchange of consonant is s with e. Where the Upper and
Middle N'tlaka'pamuQ commonly use s, the Lower invariably employ e ; but throughout the whole area the interchange is quite common. Other common consonantal
equivalents are q = Q = ii = h ; k=k; k*=g*, k = g; ts = tz = tc; b = p = m.
It is distinctly noticeable that the rough breathings are very indeterminate in
character, making it at times difficult to detect the differences. The mild aspirate
h appears and vanishes in a word in quite a bewildering fashion.   If a native is asked-
r_.^^^_, .._!^s_rr^-_?„.__-.r_ __,_   ^-^^-^^^-^-^-^ r
to repeat a word two or three times, in many instances, if it be a characteristic
Indian term, the inquirer will be in doubt how to write it on account of the appearance and disappearance of the rough breathings. A word uttered slowly and apart
from its context has often a different sound from the same word uttered quickly in
ordinary speech. The same words in the mouths of women and children are often
quite different from what they are in the mouths of the men. The consonants are
much softer and the aspirates are less guttural, or even wholly wanting, in the
The noun, I think, has no true plural; its place is supplied by a distributive
formed by amplification of the stem, commonly by reduplication of the first syllable of
the word, as skai'uq, man; skai'akaiu'q,men; tuO't, boy tutud'r, boys ; slanats, girl;
slasla'nats, girls ; which, in such sentences as the folio wing, approaches the character
of a real plural: clcai'a tik skai'akaiu'q'n tlEn tskau'tl, there are two men in the
boat; qultl tl skai'akaiu'q 'n tlEn mita'tluQ, there are several men in the church;
mucmuceO'ksta, bring four pieces (of wood) at a time.
The plural of the adjective is formed in the same way: as tait, (he is) hungry;
ti'tait, (they are) hungry, when standing as the complement of the verbum substan-
tivum. Sometimes the distributive is formed by epenthesis or diaeresis, but this is
comparatively rare, reduplication being a strong feature in the N'tlaka'pamuQ.
There is a large class of nouns which take a suffix -tEn, and which may be
termed instrumental nouns; as,
N'p6'e£-?», bed, ?*.*?., thing to sleep on.
N'tl'kO'ap£&'», chair, i.e., thing to sit
N'cui'pf j;??, ashes.
N'tuktcl'nfE-i, doo
N'keltcI'ntEn, key.
Tzaula'tEn, shov<
N'tsak'o'etctEn, pipe.
N'kul'atEn, shot pouch.
N'tzaukui'cqafe'%, lamp, i e., instrument of light.
1 N'koano'etett,  window, i.e., instrument for letting sunlight through.
Nukoatl net En, eye. i.e., the part of the
face that lets light through.
This initial n\ which appears as a regular prefix in most of these terms, is probably
a preposition. There is a prepositional form of this kind; as, n' tla kaa'koa, in the box;
n' tla tcl'tuQ, in the house; n' tlen po'et-En, in bed.
There is another large class of nouns which takes a suffix in -*#, and which carries
with it the idea of agency or action; as,
pekhpekhEmu'tl, a hunter,
tzauEmtzauEmu'tl, a fisher,
tcu'tcuEmu'tl, a worker,
uk'ai'Bmutl, a shooter,
tlaha'ndju'tl, an eater,
awl'Emu'tl, a laugher,
wl wl u'tl, a cryer or caller,
I'tlltlEmu'tl, a singer,
tlEzuzu'tl, a lazy person,
kumakumu'tl, a digger (of roots)
yu'k yukEmu'tl, a planter,
pca'kEmu'tl, a wood gatherer,
k-ue'auEmu'cl, a berry picker,
from pe'khEm, to hunt
„ tzau'Em, to fish, cf. tzautzan
„ tcu'jsm, to work
„ k-ai'sm, to shoot
„ tlaha'ndj, food
„ itwi'Em, to laugh
„ wawl', a cry or call
„ I'tlEm, to sing
„ tlezu'z, lazy
„ ku'mEn, to dig for roots
„ yu'k Km, to plant or bury in
„ pca'kEm, to gather wood
„ k-ueau'Em, to pick berries :
Of the above terms those that end in *sm are verbs in t
form.   This form may be called the substantive form
peculiar to the N'tlaka'pamuQ, but is characteristic of
of ti
most, if
>m skue it,
est, uninfleeted
>. This is not
.1, of the Salish %
24 REPORT—1809.
dialects. It will be observed that whenever the action is continuous or repeated, the
stem of the word is reduplicated. This reduplication serves several purposes. It not
only expresses the plural and continuous repeated action as above, but enters also
into the ideas of diminution in several ways.
Kau'iQui'sk'En, a little axe, from kaui'sk-En, axe; spEZu'zo, a little bird, from
spu'zO, bird; pIpI'eOkQ * just a few trees', from ple'Oka, one tree; cikata'na, I
strike it strongly; cikci'kata'na, I strike it a little; kfienta'ta, talk to me; kUek-
uenta'ta, talk to me a little; pl'latci'na, I speak; pilpl'pElatci'na, I speak very
little. Sometimes a different word is employed for the same purpose; as, tzEzoi'tsta,
chop it in big pieces; tclmlma'tsta, chop it in little pieces.
The diminutive is also expressed by compounds as sto'matl, ox; sto'matl-tltl't, a
little ox; sk-a'qa, dog; sk*aqa'-tza, a puppy; or by a different word; as, tu'Ot, boy ;
clna, a little boy; sla'nats, a girl; ma'qa, a little girl.
Compound nouns are a common feature of the language. Examples of one class
of these are formed by simple juxtaposition with or without modification: O'iyip-
tskau'tl, fire-canoe, i.e. steamer; q'k*"Opa, beaver, from qtluk*t=-broad and cu'pa»
tail; n'kEltza-sk-a'qa, horse. Another and commoner class are the -instrumental'
and * agent ■ nouns given above.
There is no evidence of grammatical gender in N'tlaka'pamuQ. When a speaker
wishes to distinguish between male and female he does so either by the use of
separate words; as,
skai'uq, man; s'mu'tlatc, woman;
tu'Ot, boy ; sla'nats, girl;
cl'na, baby boy; ma'qa, baby girl;
ck*'ca, nephew; sklumke'Et, niece;
or, by adding to the class-word in a more or less modified form the terms for man
or woman; as,
dog, sk*a'-kai'uq; bitch, smG-mE'tlatc.
When there is no possibility of ambiguity the class-word is not used, but just one or
other of these two terms, as the case may be.
A few words are used of male and female alike, without distinction, when there
is no possibility of ambiguity or need to mark the sex; but all these general terms
can, and sometimes do, add the words for man and woman when there is need to be
Doctor, mE'laQme'it; sku'kEmlt, child;
widow,      ]    , ,       .
 . -.    f       v  slEue amEt:
widower,   j '
orphan, cua'ka, boy or girl.
Many class nouns are omitted in common speech when qualified by an adjective,
as in English; as, ku'tlamln, old man or woman. The full form of these would be:
ku'tlamin tik skai'uq; ku'tlamln tik smu'tlatc. A great many of the adjectives
may thus be used substantively.
Ordinarily the noun undergoes no inflection for case, but in expressions denoting
possession or ownership there is a modification of the stem which might at first
sight be taken for a genuine inflexion ; as, tcIttiQ, house; tcl'tuQo ha nska'tza, the
house of my father, or 'n-ska'tza tcltuQo, my father's house.
But this is not a true inflection; it is merely one of the affixes of the possessive
pronoun.   These affixes are seen also in the intransitive verbs, and are likewise ON THE ETHNOLOGICAL SURVEY OF CANADA.
''     1
* I
suffixed to adjectives when they stand as the complement of verbs of incomplete
predication, or of the verbum subatantivum.   Schematically they are as follows :—
ha-'7t-tcI'tuQ, my house; ha-tcl'tuQ, thy house;
ha-tcituQo, his or her house; ha-tci't uQk't, our house;
ha-td'tuo/Zp, your house; ha-tcl'tuQify$, their house.
It is interesting to notice that in the first and second persons singular the pronominal elements are prefixed, while in all the others they are suffixed. The
common prefix ha- is a demonstrative particle, and signifies the presence of the thing
possessed. It may be replaced by tla, which signifies the absence of the thing
possessed (see under Pronouns). These particles are abbreviated forms of the
demonstrative pronouns * this' and * that.' They have also the function of a definite
article in N'tlaka'pamuQ in certain constructions.
The object-noun presents some interesting features. Generally speaking, the
object of a transitive verb follows the verb in an unmodified form, and is distinct
from it; as,
pul'cena tlum smite, I killed a deer;
kiieta'ta smite, cook the meat;
O'ita'ta tci'tuQ, burn down the house;
nlka'ta culpum, cut the wood;
n'saua'ta tzatl, wash the dish.
But sometimes  the noun is verbalised, taking on regularly the inflexions of the
transitive verb; as,
pamata, make a fire; from spam, a fire ;
n'tuktci'nta, shut the door; from n'tuktcI'ntEn, a door.
t In other instances the object noun is incorporated into the verbal synthesis in a
contracted, modified form between the stem and the personal inflexion; as,
tcu-itai'ft-na, I struck him on the head, from tcuta'na, I strike, and k;u'mk*an,
head; teu-u'eena, I struck his face, from tcUta'na and sk'tlu'c, face; qo'nl-akst-kin,
I have hurt my hand, from qo'nl-kin, I am hurt,, and lakst, hand or finger;
pau'-c-kin, my face is swollen, from pau'it, swollen, and sk'tlu'c, face, more .literally,
I am swollen as to my face ; nlk-qs'n-kin, I cut my foot, from nlkkin, I am cut,
and la'kaqEn, foot or toe.
It would appear that when the object affected by the verbal action is a person, or
any part of a person's body, such object is almost invariably incorporated with the
verb, as in the examples given above. There seems, however, to be one striking
exception to this rule. When the object happens to be the third person singular, no
incorporation or modification of the object takes place, but the pronoun follows the
verb as in English • as,
Po'ista'na tcinl'tl, I killed him or her;
Tcuta'na tcinl'tl, I struck him or her;
CEu'ksta'na tlEna, I know that person.
In all other instances it would appear that the pronominal object is invariably
incorporated into the verbal synthesis, and placed between the stem of the verb and
the terminal inflections; as,
Huz-tof'-D, I love thee;
Huz-t&'i-c, he loves us;
Huz-rT^*-na, I love them.
(For other examples see under Verbs.)
The same principle holds good for the incorporated reflexive pronoun tcut; as,
Ol-tcU't-kin, I burn myself;
Quz-tcu't-kin, I love myself.
It will be seen in the above in corporative nouns that their synthetic forms differ
from their independent forms. This difference consists in the main in a cutting
down of the independent form of the word, which is not infrequently a compound
term. At times a different radical is used, but in such cases, I think, it will always
be found to be a synonymous term, which has by chance taken the place of the
common term.   Much of the differentiation in the Salish dialects has been brought 26
about in this way, a good example of which may be seen In the terms for beaver/
In the N'tlaka'pamuQ we find the common word for this animal is $'?iuya. But the
primary significance of this term is not beaver but -wealth,' -treasure,' -riches.'
Beaver-skins in the old fur-trading days were a standard of value; hence beaver-
skins are'wealth* or'riches,'and hence the application of the term to the animal
itself. But there is also another term quite commonly employed to designate the
beaver by, viz., qk'*Opa, which is derived by severe syncopation from qtlukt, broad,
and cti'pa, tail. Either of these terms ma)- stand for the word beaver, yet neither
of them is the primitive term commonly employed before the division of the Salish
stock took place. The word common to the greatest number of tribes is site Id, or
some modification of it. It is the ordinary term for beaver in the dialects of
contiguous tribes, both above and below. It is also used by the Coast and Vancouver
Island Salish, and even by one division of the Kwakiutl. It must, therefore, have
been thrust aside in the dialect of the N'tlaka'pamuQ and forgotten, and the
other synonymous terms taken its place, for I could not find it upon inquiry.
The following expressions will serve as examples to show the difference between
the compounded and the independent forms:—
Examples of Synthesis
f pau-c-kin, I am swollen in the
—Uc and —c
sk'tlu'c   .
J     face. •
1 tcu-uc-ena, I struck him on
t    the face.
—k*an     and
—k-ain      .
fska'p-k-au, hair.
< tcu-kai'n-na, I struck him on
t    the head.
f qo'nS-akst-kin, I have hurt my
j     hand; more correctly, I am
L    hurt as to my hand.
—akst .        .
f ski'a-kainkst, thumb, i.e, the
<     'first finger'; koa'-kainkst,
finger   •
mouth .       •
—cin       and
f tcu'tcin      or
stli'pcin, jaw or chin.
\    splu'tcin   .
people .
—muQ .
f K*umtcin'-muQ,     people     of
\    K*umtcl'n.
—ak*s   .
sp'sa'k*s .
{tza/ak*s, long-nose, from tzaqt,
[    long, and sp'sa'k's, nose.
breast   •
sk a'am •
tlil-kumau'-tcih, chest.
fire       •
pam .
pam-a'ta, make a tire.
skapka'tEm, to be struck on the
head. The difference between
this term and the one above
in the compound for ' head'
is interesting. When the
blow has been given by somebody ' kain' must be used;
when the blow is from above
on that part of the head
where the hair grows, inflicted by an inanimate object by striking the head
against it, 'skap' is always
( Swa'tl uq, white man's house.
\ mita'tiuQ, church, i.e., house of
I    prayer.
house   •
—uq and tldQ
tcl'tuQ    .
i ma'-qEtEn,   moon, lit.   light-
light    .
ma—   and
J     above   instrument;    mEa',
daybreak;       ma'aulEnu'Q,
I,   dawn, lit. light is spreading. 'i *
The independent personal pronouns are:
'ntcau'a, I, me.
a'wl, thou, thee.
tcinl'tl, he, she, it; him, her.
nEme'mEtl, we, us.
plya'pst, you, you.
tcinko'st, they, them.
The function of these pronouns in N'tlaka'pamuQ is practically the same as that
of the corresponding forms in English. They are used in answer to such questions
as, ' Who did it ?' They are never used with the verb, which has its own inflected
forms. They are sometimes, however, added to the verbal forms to emphasise them
both as subjects and as objects; as, 'ntcau'a pOIsta'a tcinl'tl, / killed him ; 'ntcau'a
Quztcl'n, / love thee; tcinl'tl Quzteis nEin&MEtl, he loves us; Quztlgsna tcinhust, I love
them] QuztOI'men plya'pst ta'kamOp, I love you all.
The synthetic personal pronouns form two distinct classes, one for transitive and
another for intransitive verbs. This latter class also undertakes the function of the
verbum substantivum. It may be suffixed to almost any part of speech, verb, noun,
adjective, adverb, pronoun, Sec. For example, in the last sentence in the preceding
paragraph the terminal^ in ta'ltamvp is the characteristic terminal of this pronoun
in the second person plural, ta'kamop being otherwise written as ta'kamOs = all, the
whole.    Other examples will be found in other parts of the paper.
The two classes schematically given are as follows:—
f —tena (often abbreviated to
Singular { —tauq     „ „ „
-tarn, we.
-tap, you.
-tigs, they.
-na or even —a), I.
q, thou,
s or c, he, she, it.
f—kin, I.
Singular*J —q, thou.
Possessive Pronouns.
-k-'t, we.
-k-'p, you.
Of these there are also two classes, or, more strictly speaking, the pronominal
elements are modified by two distinct particles which have the function of marking
the presence of the object possessed in the one case and its absence in the other; as,
tl . . .
. s
. k-'t
. ap
. tes
Singular< ha—a
f ha
Plural \ ha
his, her
his, her
tlETt—tcl'tuQ, my house.
tla—tci'tuQ, thy house.
tl—tcl'cuQ s, his or her house.
tl—tcl'tuQ h't, our house.
tl—tcl'tuQ ap, your house.
tl—tcltul'gs, their house.
ha—-'n—ska'tza, my father.
ha—a—ska'tza, thy father.
ha—ska'tzas, his or her father.
ha—skfi'tzak't, our father,
ha—ska'tza ap, your father,
ha—ska'tzal'gs, their father.
These particles that mark the absence and presence of the thing possessed are
abbreviated forms of the demonstrative pronouns qaha'' this,' and tlaha' ' that,' and
consequently signify ' here' and ' there.' The position of the object noun varies.
One may say ha'n ska'tza tel'tuQ-s, my father's house; or tel'tuQs ha n ska'tza, the
house of my father.   The latter, however, is the more usual construction. 28 report—1899
In the contiguous Shushwap Dr. Boas has recorded'inclusive'and'exclusive'
forms for the first person plural and the possessive pronouns. I have not been able
to discover these differentiations in the Lower N'tlaka'pamuQ dialect. «
Substantive Possessive PBoxoras.
These forms are used in answer to the question,' Whose is this 1'
f'ntca'ntl, mine, or it is mine.
Singular < hawi'ntl, thine, or it is thine, sometimes wintl.
ttcini'ntlc, his or hers, or it is his or hers.
f nEme'ruEtlk't, ours, or it is ours.
Plural < pla'pstalEp, yours, or it is yours.
L tcinku'ctatli'gs, theirs, or it is theirs.
There is another form compounded from a word meaning 'belongings,' 'possessions,' &c, and the possessive pronoun, and which is the equivalent of our phrase
* this is mine.'
!'n—cti'tEn, mine, or this is mine,
a—cti'tEn, thine, „   „   „ thine.
cu'tEn—s, his, „   „   „ his or hers.
f cu'tBnk't, our,      „   „   „ ours.
Plural -J cu'tEnap, yours,   „   „   „ yours.
I cu'tEnlgs, theirs, „    „   „ theirs.
This term cti'tEn is also verbalised; as, cu'tEnsta'na, I own it; cu'tEnml'na, I hold
possession of it.
Interrogative Pronouns.
sqftat or cUat ? who ? ex., cuat Qa ? who is that ?
cUat q ? who are you 1
ha'ntla ? which ? ha'ntla wintl ? which is thine ?
ha'ntla ha sk*a'qa ? which horse is yours ?
But in the question • which of them ?' Aqa'n ? is the correct form; sta ? what ? what
do you want ? stakas hoakst ? Aska'num 1 what ? what are you eating ? sta'aOpinoq 1
what colour? aska'num mlta? nik sta? In what ? In the phrase 'which horse is
yours ? * the term for horse is abbreviated to sk-a'qa, which commonly means dog.
This abbreviation is quite common in conversation. The full term in Lower N'tlaka'pamuQ is n'g'E'ltza-sh'a'qa; in the Tlk-umtcr'nmuQ dialect it is intsar-ska'qa.
Relative Pronoun.
The N'tlaka'pamuQ rarely, if ever, use relative pronouns as we do; indeed, I
doubt if a true relative exists. But in translating an English sentence with a relative pronoun in it they sometimes use the particle tas to represent our 'who' or
• which'; as, tlaha' ko'kpl tas tcutcams, ' The heavenly chief who made me,' but
more often they express themselves thus: Quzte'na ths'n klq tla tzOk*, I loved my
sister who is dead,' which, literally taken, is rather, * I love my sister (absent), that
one dead.' ft1'
Emphatic Reflexive Proxoux3.
n'tcau'amatl, I myself. nEme'mEtlmatl, we ourselves,
awl'matl, thou th) self. plya'pstamatl, „
tcinl'tlmatl, he himself. tcinko'stamatl, „
There is another reflexive form used with verbs, viz., tcut, as Oltew'rkin, I burn
myself; kestsmioUt, becoming bad in oneself. I have not found this form apart from
the verb.
qaha', this. tlaha', that.
qa qa ha', these. tla tla ha', those.
Of these there are several classes formed by amplification of the stem of the
regular cardinals.   The common cardinal numbers are:—
1. pai'a.
2. cai'a.
3. ka'tlec.
4. mus.
5. tclkst.
6. tlakama'kst.
7. tcn'tlka.
8. pI'Opc.
9. te'mutl pai'a.
10. 6'penakst.
11. o'penakst atl pai'a
12. o'penakst atl cai'a
13. O'penakst atl ka'tlec
14. „ „ mus
15. „ „ tclkst
16. O'penakst atl tlakama'kst
17. „ ,, tcu'tlka
18. „ „ pI'opc
19. „ „ te'mutl pai'a
20. cltl o'penakst
21. „ „        atl pai'a
30. katl o'penakst.
31. „ „ atl pai'a.
40. mutl     „
50. tcitl
60. tla'kamtl O'penakst
70. tcu'tlk'ti O'penakst
80. pi'O'tl
90. te'mutl pai'atl O'penakst
100. hutct pEka'qEnakst.
In 5, 6, 11, and all the decades of the above the suffix -akst appears. This is an
abbreviated form of lakst, hand. To this suffix in 100 is added the synthetic form
for foot, qRn. The analysis of the remaining part of the compound is not clear to
me, but the meaning is obviously so many ' hands ' and ' feet.' Nine has the signification of 'one less than,' 'one wanting.' Five means the ' whole hand' or • fist.
Six means another added to the whole fist.
The following forms are used in counting persons :—
1, papai'a
2, clcai'a
3, kEka'tlac
4, mo'cmas
6, tcltcl'kst
6, tlaktla'kama'kst
7, tciltcu'tlka
8, piO'pst (?)
9, tEmutl papai'a
10, OpE'penakst
11, opE'penakst
12, opE'penakst
The following are used when counting animals :-
1, ple'a, or pEpIe'a
2, caicl'a
3, kEk'tlEC
4, momc
5, tcitcl'ikst
6, tlaktlumkst
The following are used when counting trees, &c. :-
1, ple'OkQ
2, cle'OkQ
3, kEtle'OkQ
4, musS'okQ
5, tcikce'OkQ
6, tla'kamEkce'OkQ
7, tcu'tctlika
8, (?)
9, tE'mutl pEpIe'a
10, O'pEnEkst
7, tctllkacS'okQ
8, pI'OpcS'OkQ
9, te'mutlpte'OkQ
10, O'penakceOkQ
There is a secondary form for trees, wood, &c, the distinction between which and
the above my informant was not able to make clear to me. Examples of this form
may be seen in the following: mucmuceOk-sta «■'bring four pieces of wood at a time*;
pIpI'eOkQ = ' just a few trees,' said by a native when the trees or bushes are scattered. The reduplication here seen is a good example of the opposite uses to which
it is put in N'tlaka'pamuQ. In the one instance it expresses augmentation; in the
other, diminution or scantiness.
The following forms are used when counting houses:—
1, pla'tluQ.
2, cla'tluQ.
3, kEka'tliiQ.
4, moca'tliiQ.
5, tcIksta'tliiQ.
6, tla'kamaksa'tluQ.
7, tciitlka'tluQ.
8, pl'Opstca'tluQ.
9, te'mutl pai'atla'tluQ.
10, O'penakca'tluQ.
The distributive is apparently formed by suffixing the particle tldq to the cardinals. This particle has an independent existence, and carries with it the signification of ' only'; as,
pai'atloq, cai'atloq, &c, one only, two only, &c. 30 REPORT—1899.
first, ke'a. fourth, asmfl'stc. seventh, astcu'lkastc.
second, ascai'astc. fifth, astcl'kstc. eighth, aspIho'p*tc
third, aska'tlastc. sixth, astlakama'kstc ninth, astE'mElpai'astc.
tenth, asO'penakstc.
Adverbial Numerals.
These are regularly formed by suffixing the particle atl; as, pai'atl, once;
cai'atl, twice, &c. With regard to this suffix it is interesting to note that the same
form is seen in the Kootanie in one of its three kinds of numeral adverbs; as,
g6kwe'n£r7, once; gaska'tletl, twice, &c.
The position of the adjective varies with the construction of the sentence.
Commonly it precedes the word it qualities, and is attached to it by a kind of
article thus: I'a tik tft'Ot, a good boy. The place of this article is always between
the substantive and its qualifier. It seems sometimes to perform also the function
of a partitive article; as, kwonam'ata tik ko, bring me some water; Qoa'kskin tik
snii'ya, I want some money. It must likewise always stand between a numeral and
a substantive; as, pai'a tik tcl'tuQ, one house; clcai'a tik skai'akaiu'q, two men.
It is probably the same particle as is seen in the Bilqula dialect under the form ti,
though the functions of the two are not quite the same.
In such a sentence as, ' This house is'good,' the adjective commonly follows its
noun ; as, qah'a tik tcl'tuQ I'a.
Comparison ot the adjective is effected in the following manner:—
Positive Comparative Superlative
tlikt, sweet tttwa tlikt, sweeter kl'atik tlikt, sweetest
QO'zEm, great QO'zEm tuwa, greater kl'atik QO'zEm, greatest
The superlative form is simply the numeral adjective ' first' joined to the positive
by tik. This is the ordinary method of comparison, but the following phrases show
that the comparative and superlative may sometimes be otherwise rendered:
ohitca'hasl'as m * better'; where 6'hitca means * more,' ha(s) ' this,' and I'a(s) ' good,'
and the whole compound is equivalent to our • this one is more good'; kwumkwumet
tik ia,' best,'' very good.'
The position of the adverb varies with its sense and the construction of the sentence in which it occurs, but the temporal adverb is invariably placed at the
beginning of the sentence; as, tlakaml'q tlo hazQuztca'moq, always, you have loved
me; tlenaqmnos awlkta'na tlana', long ago I saw him. Speaking generally, the
adverbial modifier will be found as a rule before the word it modifies, but there are
many exceptions to this rule.
The N'tlaka'pamuQ possess a verb of being. It enters largely into the composition
of the other verbs in certain of their tenses. It is conjugated by means of suffixes
and prefixes. It cannot be used independently, but must always take a complementary noun or adjective before or after it. Severed from its complement it is
conjugated as follows:—
Present Tense.
{ua'kin, I am. fUa'k't, we are.
Uau'q, thou art. Plural \ tia'k'p, you are.
ua'q, he or she is. [ ua'tzaq, they are.
Past Indefinite Tense.
This is formed by suffixing the particle tlum to the present tense forms; as,
ufikintlum, I was, &c. - JU-ll.Ili
|i r Perfect Tense.
ftlra'qrlon, I have been. f tloa'quot, we have been.
Singulars tlc&'quq, thou hast been.        Plural I tloa'qOp, you have been.
(/ilca-'qoqc, he has been. I. tloa'tzaqoqc, they have been.
Future Tense.
h6'lkinua.'q. I shall be. hO'lk'tua'q, we shall be.
The other persons follow regularly.
Potential Mood.
baua'quontld, I may be. haua'qottlo, we may be.
haua'qoqtlo, thou mayst be. haua'qOptlO, you may be.
haua'qlctld, he may be. haua'tzaqO'ctlO, they may be.
Imperative Mood.
fia'qawa, be thou. ua'qosa, be you.
Infinitive Mood. 4
uaqt to be. tloaq, to have been.
klailEn'ska -= if I were good. k*e'stuenska m if I were bad.
In such sentences as the?e the complement precedes the main part of the verb,
but in a simple direct sentence it follows; as, u'akin I'a, I am good.
In composition this verb is not regularly employed as the verbum substantivum in
English is. In the present tenses the personal inflexions only appear in such
sentences as we form with an adjective and the verbum substantivum.   Thus :
Present Tense.
rtai't-Hn, I am hungry. f tait-k't, we are hungry.
Singular <: tai't-q, thou art hungry. Plural < tait-k'p, you are hungry.
J^tait, he or she is hungry. ^tl-tait, they are hungry.
Past Indefinite Tense.
ftait-ki'n-ua, I was hungry. f tait-k'tua, we were hungry.
Singular <[ tait-qua, thou wast hungry. Plural < tait-k'pua, you were hungry,
^tait-ua, he or she was hungry. l^tl-taitUa, they were hungry.
Perfect Tense.
tlOa'quontait, I have been hungry. tloa'quotait, we have been hungry.
tlOa'qoqtait, thou hast been hungry. tloaqoptait, you have been hungry.
tloa'qOctait, he or she has been hungry.       tlOatza'qOctait, they have beenbungry
Future Tense.
f hO'lkin-tait, I shall or I am going to be hungry.
Singular -t holq-tait, thou wilt or thou art going to be hungry.
' U ( hOI-tait, he will or he is going to be hungry.
f hoik'ttait, we shall or are going to be hungry.
Plural< hdik'ptait, you will or are going to be hungry.
t^hoitl-tait, they will or are going to be hungry.
Dubitative Tense.
tTma'taitkin, I may be hungry.
The other forms follow regularly, the particle tl'ma' = 'perhaps,' being prefixed
to the present tense forms, as in the first person.
By sufficing the particle vq or noq to the above, as tai'tkin-ftq, we can get an
intensive or emphatic form of the same expression, I am very hungry. Also
kweno'qkin-oq, I am very sick; tcE'lcEau'qkin-Oq, I am very glad.
A very constant feature of the verbal system of the N'tlaka'pamuQ is that the
verbal stem is always preceded by the tense sign in the future.   The meaning of the 32 REPORT—1899.
future is nearer our ' I am going to be' than * I shall be.' There is another form of
the future less positive than this, viz., hO'Ikin-nOk-kwenO'q, * I am afraid I am going
to be sick.'
The negative forms are thus rendered:—
tat a wenf/q, I am not sick.
tata qa*kwenO'q, thou art not sick.
The negatives strengthen each other as in Greek, the s here strengthening the
independent negative tata.
Noun sentences are formed in the same way as the adjective sentences; as,
N'tlaka'pamuQ-kin, I am a N'tlaka'pamuQ.
„ -q,    thou art a N'tlaka'pamuQ.
„ —     he or she is a N'tlaka'pamuQ.
„ -k't   we are N'tlaka'pamuQ.
„ -k'p   you are N'tlaka'pamuQ.
The disjunctive personal pronouns may be added to these if emphasis is needed;
•'ntcau'a N'tlakapamuQ-kin, I am a N'tlaka'pamuQ, &c.
The distinction between transitive and intransitive verbs is very clearly marked
.by the use of entirely different pronominal suffixes. The intransitive take the same
pronouns as the adjective as given above, but usually form their past tense by
suffixing the particle tlum; as,
Present Tense.
(Nackin, I go. fnack't, we go.
Nacq, thou goest. Plural < nack'p, you go.
Nac, he or she goes. Inaic, they go.
Past Tense.
f kltckin tlum, I went. fkltck't tlum, we went.
Singular < kitcq tlum, thou wentest. Plural j kltck'p tlum, you went.
Lkitc tlum, he went. Lki'etc tlum, they went.
Future Tense.
hO'lkinnac, I shall go. ho'lk'tnac, we shall go.
The other persons follow regularly.
Imperative Mood.
nacuama'ltlo, go thou. nacQaza'tlO, go ye.
The two following forms are also used imperatively:—
a'cGa     1  ,,AM na'coza    1
acua'tlO j *° thou' nacozatlo } ^° ?*'
Dubitative Mood.
tl'ma'na'ckin, perhaps I may go. tl'ma'na'ck't, perhaps we may go.
The other persons follow regularly.
hacu'koc tlEma' na'ckin is another form of this mood; it expresses indecision on
the part of the speaker; as, ' maybe I'll go.'
Potential Mood.
qaqa'tak-kEnsnac, I can or may go.
qaqa'tak'CEne'yEt, we     „       „
qaqa'tak'kEsnac, thou canst or mayest go.
,,       -c En cap, ye can or may go.
„       -cnactc, he       „       „
„       -cKne'yestc, they can or may go.
nacua'1 f"-HS*p
Oftati ve Forms.
enslekasnac = I want you to go. tata kinsnac ma'mon, I don't want to go.
Infinitive Mood.
nac, to go. nactlO, to have gone
nactl, going. nactlum, gone.
naict, we are going,
ho'l-k't-amal-tlo-nac, let us all go.
to love.
Present Tense.
{Quzta'na, I love. f Quzta'm, we love.
Quztau'q, thou lovest. Plural \ Quzta'p, you love.
Quzta's, he, she, loves. ( Quztl'gs, they love.
In the past tenses of the transitive verb the particle tlum appears to play but a
small part, its place being supplied by the verb * to be.' This particle tlum, besides
forming the past tense and perfect participle of the intransitive verbs, is otherwise
employed to indicate absence from the speaker ; as, tcinl'tl tlum, he (absent), tcinkOst-
tlum, they (absent).
Past of Incomplete Action.
f Quzta'na tlo, I have loved. f Quzta'm tlo, we have loved.
Singular-! Quztau'q t 0, thou hast loved.       Plural -I Quzta'p tlo, ye have loved.
I Quzta's tlo, he has4 loved. [ Quztlgs, they have loved.
Past of Complete Action.
{Quzta'naua, I have loved. f Quzta'm, we have loved.
Quztau'qua, thou hast loved. Plural I Quzta'p, you- have loved.
Quzta'sua, he has loved. [ Quztlgs, they ha\ e loved.
The distinction between ua and tld is very nice. The former is used when the
action or feeling no longer exists at the time of speaking; as, tlakamlq-Ua hazQuz •
tcamOq, always thou hast loved me (up to this time); the latter when the feeling or
action is continuing; as, tlakamlq-tlohazQuztcamOq, always thou hast loved me and
still dost. It will be noticed in these two sentences that the adverb takes the past
signs and not the verb. They sometimes precede the verb; as, tlOQuzta'na, I have
loved. The amplification of the verbal stem here observed marks the continuity of
the action and strengthens the adverb.
The indefinite past is frequently expressed by the present without any modifying
particles, the context or sense of the passage making the time of the action clear;
as, Quzta'na tlE 'nklq tlE tzok, I loved my sister who is dead; more literally,' I love
that my sister that one dead.' The past action of the verb is here implied by the
absence or death of the object. Other examples are tcu-uc-Ena, I struck him on the
face ; tcu-kain-na, I struck him on the head.
In these examples of incorporated object the subject pronoun sometimes suffers
contraction as well as the object, as seen in these two instances. Occasionally the
indefinite past takes tlum ; as, pul'cena tlum smite, I killed a deer.
Future Tense.
ho'iQuzta'na, I shall love.   The other persons follow regularly.
Potential Mood.
haquzta'naUac, I may love.   The other persons follow regularly.
H 4—5 ^
Imperative Mood.
Quzta'ta, love thou;  Quztato'za, love you;
Quztca'ma, love thou me.
QuztcamO'za, love you me.
Potential Passive.
f haQuztce'mauac, 1 may be loved.
1 haQuztd'toc, thou mayest be loved.
| haQuzsta'mOc, he may be loved.
ihaQuzste'tOc, we may be loved.
haQuzstO'lmato'c, ye may be loved.
haQuztl'gsatamO'c, they may be loved.
In verbs formed from nouns or adjectives the imperative inflection is -sta; as,
tciml'matsta, 'cut it in little pieces,' more literally,'little it'; tzOzO'itsta, cut it in
big pieces ; mucmuceO'ksta, ' bring four pieces of wood at a time.' In each of these
expressions the only verbal element is the sign of the imperative -sta.
The following are examples of the incorporated pronoun object, with the exception in the third person singular, as mentioned above :—
Quztcl'n, I love thee.
Quzto'imEn, I love you.
Quztcl't, we love thee.
Quztl'gstcatc, they love thee.
Quztl'gsna, I love them.
Quztl'gsnuq, thou lovest them.
Quzta'c tcincO'st, he loves them.
Quztca'mq, thou lovest me.
Quztca'ms, he loves me.
QuztS'c, he loves us..
Quztana tcinl'tl, I love him.
Quztau'q tcinl'tl, thou lovest hin
Quzta's tcinl'tl, he loves him.
Quztcl'c, he loves thee.
QuztO'ImEc, he loves you.
QuztO'Imat, we love you.
(?)        they love you.
Quztl'gscu'tEm, we love them.
Quztl'gscenu'q you love them.
Quztl'gs tcincO'st, they love them,
Quztce'ip, you love me.
Quztl'gscatcams, they love me.
tlatla' huzte'ic, they love us.
Quzta'm tcinl'tl, we love him.
Quzta'p tcinl'tl, you love him.
Quztl'gs tcinl'tl, they love him.
The prepositional elements of the N'tlaka'pamuQ tongue vary with the construction of the sentence. Some of these are: tla'kut, across; tutl, beyond ; n'kpa'nik
na, under.
na, on.
'n, in.
mitca'k'a na tEmu'q, sit on the ground.
'n tla tcl'tuQ, in the house.
'n tla k-oa'koa, in the box.
'n tlEn pO'HEn, in the bed.
na kO, on the water.
pa'kwata tsk*au'tl na ko, launch the boat on the water.
tla'kut kO, across the river.
na sqEnq, on a stone.
n'kpa'nik na sqEnq, under a stone.
tlatlat na ko, near the water.
What are you eating ? sta'aOpinoq ?
Who will do this ? cuatka Oltcu'tamOs ?
The sun is shining, nuEllric a skOa'koac.
It is raining, Ua'tEktl.
Launch the canoe on the water, pa'kwata tsk-au'tl na ko.
And one of them accordingly went, atl tlo-asna'c ha papai'a.
I alone will possess the treasure, aul kwonaQEna aitl snu'ya.
Alas I what a world is this I au ! kanum neka ha na' hai'a I
Long ago I saw him, tiena'QEnOs awiktana tlEoa'.
i< m
Immediately the cock crew, tlo na a' as haimno ha sp'zO.
I cut my foot, nlkqE'nkin.
I hurt my foot, qo'niqE'nkin.
My face is swollen, pau'ckin.
Where is the axe ? nan kani'sk'En 1
It is there, anl tla ha'.
The moon is bright, mama' tla ma'qEtEn.
Make a fire, pa-ma'ta.
A hungry person came here, tait tik tiuskai'uq tlakua'ya'.
1 know that person, cEu'kstEna tlEna'.
I nail it, tlauktana.    I have driven it home, akstlaukEnaQEna.
I know, yeQumstana.   I know it thoroughly, yeQumwI'gstana.
I have four houses, muca'tluq ha'n tcEtdtuQ.
A good house, la' tik tcl'tftQ.
That house is good, tla-ha tik tcltuQ la'.
Sit down, mltcaka.
I am still sick, ua'kin tlo kweno'q.
I was sick yesterday, I am better to-day, kweno'qkinua splqau'tl tcahai'tl la/
Bring it in, ulksta.   That will do, homa'tl.
Here is some bread, hak ha pi'skwl.
Are you tired? papi'iktkuon ?
Come to-morrow, ha tlaha'q tuk tlsplqau'tl.
Give me the saw, anakstcima tana'tlOs.
Are you awake ? a-ketlaQon ?
and, atl; but, kamatl; kak I hark ! ana' I alas I tlo, then; tcatl, now ; takumO'I
every; tatlO'ta, none; ta'kum or ta'kEnOs, all; tsltsla, such as, like; seml'q, the
Terms of Relationship.
* These terms are not commonly used
by children when addressing their
parents, the secondary forms are those
generally employed. Old women are
commonly addressed as k*IHOza.
uncle (father's
uncle (mother's
aunt (mother's
aunt (father's
brother (eider)
sister        ,,
sister (younger)
brother    „
brother-in-law (said
by girl)
man or mama.
klk or kl'ka.
katck '.
sister-in-law (said by cia'ctEm.
hoy tao't.
youth tul'ot.
girt sla'nats.
orphan, cnaTca (this term is common to
both sexes).
man skai'uq.
woman s'mtl'tlatc.
old man ku'tlamln.*
old woman
* Abbreviated   from   ku'tlamln   tik
skai'uq and ku'tlamln tik s'mu'tlatc.
child (speaker's)
Qai'owl (used by
wife when addressing her husband).
squai'owi (general
sk • u' k e mi t (general
sko 'za.
H4- 6 36
tcimame't (general
sea, river
tcime't,    offspring,
family; also em
ployed        when
speaking of chil
dren of a certain
ko'kpl, skiau'tl.
Parts (
f the Body.
head or cranium
head (entire)
crown of head
ska'pk-an. •
jaw, chin
earth, land
ql'auq, qai'Oq.
breast (of woman)
' tlikumau'tcik.
rock, stone
ke'uq, keikq.
fence (picket)
keiks (his hand).
house of white man
little finger
cu'tum   kakanakst
(cu'tum =. young
skla-kainkst   (first
axe (iron)
axe (stone)
sk-oat, sk'oaqt.
nail (iron)
5qk-0'oti,    kok-ool
bone (of fish)
ra Terms.
embers, sparks
bear (black)
naut, snaut.
ci'tl k*'t.
mE a'.
rap or aap (there is
no   true   r    in
k'lKpE'p (as in an
k-lE'pitklE'pit   (as
in the night).
sk 'm, sk'oEm.
CU&'p, Cl'Ep.
Cl'EpEwa'p or cU'E-
CEnq, sqEnq.
tcituq or tcl'tQ.
skEl, mata's.
c'pam, Oi'yip.
o'iyip-tik- tsk • a u' 11.
catc or sqato.
n'g'E'ltza-sk'a'qa, or
simply sk'a'qa.
q au t.
1 I
kumkumEt, qoatc.
(The difference be
tween     these
fly (common hou
terms   is   that
former means • warm'
from ^r^-heat,
latter from sun-h
badger (?)
• *
bird (generic)
'            beast     „
fish         „
kest, k*ect.
cau'ut, caicu'ltk.
fight, battle
sounds    (made
- emi'nim.
■   1
■    1
sound of human voice
s cauo'.
large, great, big
spirit or soul or
small, little ^
spring (of water
cold weather
ta'kEm, ta'kEmOs.
spandj'k- (lit. fruit that
tla tla ha'.
1    !  !
i 111
tuk splhau't.
no, not
tl splhaut.
ai, eh.
bop tlum skoakoac.
1   1
bop tlum ma'qEtEn.
many, much
to chew
I sit down
♦to be'
1      II
to go
twinkle (of the st
ars) tlipci'am.
I say
I pass by
I find
to increase
I kill
A i
feathers (big)
I obtain
I steal
to hunt
mat (common)
I send
post (in keekw
• sku'tzamin.
to shoot
to work
to fish
to hunt
joy, pleasure
to laugh
' keekwilee-housi
to call
to sing
to dig
to plant
to gather wood
pea'k Em.
to pick berries
bright, brightly
I strike
H 38 REFORT— 1S99.
I speak pl'latci'na. to paint ql'kas.
I cut nikata'na. to see mlki'q.
I know CEnksta'na. to trap ko'qEm.
to help ki'ntEm. to watch tzoml'ntEm.
to lend kwaku'mstEm.
In recording the following folk-tales of the N'tlaka'pamuQ, I have
sought throughout to keep them as true to the spirit of the Indian mind
as possible. I was the better able to do this as my informant possessed a
more than common knowledge of English for an elderly Indian. Having
acted as interpreter for many years to the missionaries, and also in the
law courts, he had a fair command of words. Much, therefore, of the
wording of the stories is his own. I have not sought to curtail or shorten
in any way the details of the longer stories, believing these to be of the
highest value in comparative studies. Mischelle is a born raconteur, and
has always taken the deepest interest in the stories and old customs of
his people. My method of recording was in the shorter tales to write
the story almost verbatim as he related it. In the case of the longer
detailed ones I wrote down the chief incidents of the story at the time of
recital, filled in the rest from memory immediately afterwards, and then
read the whole over to Mischelle next day to see that I had got it correctly. By this means, although I am responsible for the English, the
spirit of the stories is Misehelle's.
Story of the Elk-maiden.
In the remote days of long ago, when the animals spoke and behaved
like human beings, there lived in the far north an elk man and his wife.
They possessed an only daughter, and the one grief of their lives was that
no husband could be found for her. The daughter, who had no wish to
remain single all her days, grew dissatisfied with her lot, and determined
to leave home and seek an old aunt, a sister of her father's, who lived
somewhere in the far south. She accordingly set out and travelled by
herself for many weeks and moons. She had not, however, gone far
before her aunt, who was a very wise woman, learnt in a dream that her
niece was on her way to seek her.
Now, in the old elk-aunt's village, of which she was chieftainess, and
which consisted of many keekwilee-houses, or semi-subterranean winter
dwellings, there were no women or females of any kind. The whole
community, except herself, was composed of males. Being a wise old
woman, she foresaw that as soon as her niece should arrive she would be
pestered to death by suitors for the maiden's hand, and that trouble and
discord, would arise upon her appearance among them. She therefore
set her wits to work to devise some plan by which she might keep her
niece to herself and prevent discord and jealousies from disturbing the
peace and harmony of the village. And this is the way she did it. She
straightway sent for young Night-hawk, because he had a strong voice,
and bade him make known to all his companions that if they desired to
win a beautiful young elk-maiden for wife they should come to her on a
certain day. Night-hawk soon made the news known to his companions.
His tidings caused much commotion in the village, and not a youth was
missing on the appointed day. When all were assembled the old aunt
told them briefly that her niece was about to pay her a visit, and as she T~Lsm'm,~mm.
II   k
was unmarried would probably desire to Have a husband and settle down
with her.    'Among so many desirable youths,' said she, * I find it difficult:
to select one whose claims are greater than the rest.    In order, therefore,
that each one of you may have a chance to obtain the maiden I have
decided to let you race for her.   You shall all be placed at one end of the
village, and she at the other.   At the word " Go," you shall start after her,
and whoever first catches her shall have her for wife.'   This plan was not
equally pleasing to all.    Young Deer and the other fleet-footed youths
thought the idea an excellent one, each believing that he could easily
snatch the prize from his fellows ; but Tortoise thought it was hardly fair
to him and his friends, who were not gifted with long and nimble legs.
His objection, however, was overruled, and he and his friends pacified by
a promise of a good start in advance of the rest.    All unconscious of the
excitement the news of her expected arrival had caused in her aunt's
village, the maiden had gradually neared her destination, and was now
but a few miles distant.    The old aunt had followed her course day by
day in her dreams, and knew exactly where she was and when she would
appear.    So when she was but a little way off she went forth to meet and
bring her in.    She said nothing to the others as she went, hoping that
she might pass out and in unobserved.    But they had seen her stealing
off, and when she returned a little while later with her niece every youth
in the place was on the look-out for them.    The maiden was wholly
unprepared to pass the gauntlet of eyes that now met her, and was much
embarrassed by the presence of so many males, and by the ardent glances
they cast upon her.    After one hurried look round, she bent her eyes to
the ground, and did not raise them till she was within her aunt's keek-
wilee-house.    The excitement in the village now became intense, and the
old chieftainess saw that if she wished to prevent trouble and discord she
must have the contest for her niece's hand settled without unnecessary
delay.    She accordingly fixed a near day, and bade all be in readiness.
On the day appointed every youth in the village presented himself at the
aunt's dwelling.   The old chieftainess then arranged them for the contest,
placing ail the slow-footed competitors in the foremost rank, with Tortoise
in front of all, and Deer and his comrades in the rear.    She then led
forth her niece, clad in a beautiful doeskin dress, embroidered from top to
bottom with many-coloured beads and shells, and painted with numerous
mystic symbols.    A buzz of admiration greeted her as her aunt led her to
the far end of the camp and instructed her to make straight for the house
again as soon as the word was given to start.    The aunt then went back
to the others, and, bidding them be ready, gave the word to start.    Such
a rushing and striving as then followed was never seen in the village
before, as each youth strove to outdo the others.   At trjie command to go
all had seen the maiden disappear behind the farthest keekwilee-house,
and each endeavoured to be at the turn first.   But no sooner had the old
woman given the word to start than she exercised her magic powers and
caused the sky to become quickly overcast with thick dark clouds, which
effectually shut out the light of day and enveloped the runners in its
bewildering folds, so that none could discern his fellow or see whither he
went.    One ran into another and eagerly clasped him, thinking he had
secured the prize; but, finding his mistake, let go his hold and started
afresh, only to find himself repeating the same mistake again mid again.
11 have her !'  * I have her !' cried a dozen voices at once.    ' No, she's
mine !'    • She's mine !' shouted young Raven, as he grasped the bark of a 40 RETORT—1899.
cedar tree which was hanging loose and fluttering in the wind, and tore
it off in his excitement, thinking he had caught the maiden by her dress,
which had given way in his hand. ' She is mine! I have her!' he repeated
again, as he grasped the tree in his arms. But before he could realise his
mistake he was dragged back from the tree by a dozen hands, and had to
take up the hunt again. And thus they strove in vain to find the maiden,
until fcney had torn the clothes from each other's backs, and the light of
day had returned once more. • Who's got her ?' 'Where is she?' was
now the cry all round ; and, to the astonishment of all, no one seemed to
have secured the prize. She had escaped them all, and, moreover, was
now nowhere to be seen. While all these frantic struggles in the dark
had been going on, the old aunt had run round the other way and led
back her niece into the house again, and, taking off her beautiful dress,
had straightway hidden her in a large basket fashioned like a cradle,
which she had prepared for the purpose. This she placed on a shelf just
under the roof, where no one would be likely to investigate and discover
its contents. Everyone now wondered what could have become of the
maiden, but none save crafty, keen-eyed Lynx suspected that a trick had
been played upon them by their chieftainess. It was commonly supposed
that the sun, observing the beautiful maiden as she ran, had become
enamoured of her, and had left his abode in the heavens and come down
and seized and carried her off. l How else,' argued they, ' could you
account for the sudden darkness of midnight at noonday ?' But Lynx
thought otherwise, though he said nothing. He, like the others, had
entered the race, but, finding himself outstripped at the commencement,
gave up the contest, and kept his keen eyes upon the chieftainess. He
thought he had seen her run round the other side of the house and return
again with her niece, but was not quite sure, as the darkness had baffled
even his keen sight. Nevertheless he inclined to the belief that the
maiden had returned to her aunt's dwelling, and even now lay concealed
there, and he determined to satisfy himself on this point before long.
For several days and nights, therefore, he hung round the old woman's
keekwilee-house, making all sorts of excuses to pay her sudden and
unexpected visits. At one time he would take her a fine salmon, at
another some rare roots, and at another a haunch of venison ; but enter
as often and as suddenly as he would, no trace of the maiden could he
see.    Having failed in this plan, he had resort to another.
On each occasion that he had visited the old aunt's house since the
girl's disappearance he had noticed the large cradle-basket on the shelf.
He could not remember to have seen it before, and from its appearance
it was plain that it was not an old cradle ; so he could not help connecting its presence with the disappearance of the maiden. He vowed he
would learn by some means the contents of that basket before long ; but
as there was no chance of doing this openly he must find some other way.
So accordingly one night, when the whole village was asleep, he stole to
the roof of the old woman's house and began sniffing over the spot where
he knew the cradle lay, and having a keen nose soon assured himself
that the maiden lay there asleep. Having satisfied himself on this score
he now carefully and quietly removed a little of the bark covering from
the roof, thus making a small hole therein large enough to peep through
and see the maiden sleeping soundly beneath him. Enlarging the hole
a little he thrust in his paw, and gently removing the blanket from her
breast spat   three times   upon her abdomen.     He then replaced the /f^
blanket, restored the hole as before, and slunk home to his own quarters.
For three successive nights he repeated this action, after which he
returned no more, but went about his business as usual and awaited
results. In the meantime life had not gone very merrily with the
maiden. Pent up in her narrow quarters she grew wearier each day as
the weeks went by, and begged her aunt again and again to allow her to
come out of her basket. But this the old chieftainess would not do.
But as time went on the maiden presently discovered herself to be in a
peculiar and distressing condition. It seemed as if she would shortly
become a mother. When the first consciousness of her condition dawned
upon her she would not believe it, but as the days went by she could no
longer entertain any doubt of it. She hid the matter from her relative
until it was no longer possible to do so, and then the aunt was angry
indeed, and bitterly reproached her niece for the disgrace she was bringing upon her, and would not at first believe that the girl herself was
innocent in the matter. But having presently couvinced herself of this,
she set her wits to work to discover who it was that had outwitted her
in this way. But though exceedingly wise and versed in much magic she
yet could not discover directly who the offender was, but was obliged to
get her information in a roundabout way. But now the maiden's full
time had come, and she was delivered of a male child, who grew in an
incredibly shore space of time into a strong and vigorous boy. The old
chieftainess, having thought out her plan of action, now sent once more
for her public crier, young Night-hawk, and bade him inform the village
of the birth of a child to her niece, and tell his companions that they
were all to present themselves at her house on a certain day, and bring |
each of them a present for the child.
This they all did, with the exception of two, each burning with
curiosity to learn when the maiden had returned, and who had secured
her for wife. The bidding of the tribe to her house was part of the old
aunt's plan for discovering the father of her grand-nephew. By her
magic powers she had learnt that if each visitor presented the child with
a gift, he would accept and retain one only, viz., the present offered by
his own father, and would reject with disdain those of all the others.
Thus she would be able to discover the perpetrator of the deed. On the
day appointed each brought his present. As they descended they offered
their presents one by one to the child, who took them, only to throw
them aside again the next moment. This happened until all the presents
had been made, and all the visitors had assembled. As the child had
shown no interest in anything that had yet been offered him, the old
woman knew from this that someone must be absent. She therefore
angrily demanded who had disobeyed her injunctions ; and after some
little delay and calling of names it was ascertained that Young Rabbit
and his brother Lynx were absent. A messenger was immediately]
dispatched for them, and in a few minutes they arrived, Rabbit descending first. As Rabbit clambered down the notched pole that served for
ladder, the child now for the first time evinced some interest in what
was going on, and looked up and smiled at Rabbit and held out his hand
for the present. For a moment he seemed inclined to play with it, but]
threw it aside at once when he perceived Lynx descending. As the latter i
approached he crowed and laughed and clapped his hands with delight, |
eagerly stretching them out for Lynx's present, which he retained and
immediately began to play with.    The old chieftainess knew from this j 42 RETORT—1899.
that the child's father stood before her. She now related to the assembled
guests all that had taken place.
Pointing to Lynx, who hung his head in silence, she exclaimed,
* What shall be done to a creature guilty of such meanness ? Death is
too good for such a one. I will tell you what shall be done to him. . . .
He sought to rob me of my niece • now that he has disgraced her he
shall have her whether he will or no ; but he shall possess her in loneliness ; he shall not live with us. I have been thinking of changing camp
for some time past; we will do so now, and leave him and the girl and
child behind to look after themselves as best they may.' As they left
the house every one of them, even Lynx's own brother, Rabbit, gave him
a kick or a cuff, so that by the time all had gone poor Lynx was a mass
of bruises and sores. When all had at length left, the girl, who had been
watching the whole proceeding in shame and anger, now came forward
and washed and tied up poor Lynx's battered head, mildly reproaching
him the while for the trouble and disgrace he had brought upon them.
Meanwhile the others were busy preparing for the departure across the
water, which divided their present encampment from the country beyond.
There were many among them who, while they felt no pity or compassion for Lynx, were yet sorry for the girl; and in packing up their
food stores purposely left some scraps behind for her in their food-cellars.
In a short time they were ready to start, and the old chieftainess giving
the word, they paddled away, leaving the pair behind them. The old
aunt had left very little of her store of food behind her, so that in a few
days the forsaken couple found their larder empty. Then it was that
Lynx remembered that there were other food-cellars in the village, and
suggested that the girl should go round and see what she could find in
She soon discovered the food that was left behind ; and, poor and
scanty as it was, she was grateful for the kindness of those who had
thought of her in this way, and promised herself that if opportunity
offered she would not forget their kind acts. The food thus secured lasted
them till Lynx had recovered from his wounds and was able to go out
hunting. But the night before he was to start he had a dream, and in
his dream his guardian spirit came to him and told him not to despair or
be downcast at the turn events had taken ; that he would assist him, and
that one day he would be a great man and rule over his tribe. He was
further instructed to prepare a bow and arrows after the pattern shown
him in his dream, and go to the woods at the back of the village and
there he would always find game in plenty. Accordingly, next day, after
relating the dream to his wife, he fashioned himself a bow and a quiver
of arrows, after the pattern he had seen in his dream, and went forth to
hunt. He had scarcely left the village behind him when fat deer sprang
up on all sides. Having killed as many as he deemed enough for them,
he returned to the village to inform his wife of his good luck, and to
secure her help in bringing home the game. From "this time on they had
game and skins in plenty, and lived upon the fat of the land. So plentiful indeed had all kinds of food now become that that precious possession,
mountain goats' and sheep's kidney fat, was as common as meat, and the
boy was given a ball of it to play with • and so much had the wife thrown
away through the smoke-hole that the roof was coated with congealed
masses of it.
Now things were quite otherwise on the other side of the water.   Soon f^£
after elk-woman and her people had settled there all the game had
suddenly disappeared, and now the best and keenest hunters could find
nothing to bring home after a long day's hunt. Famine was busy among
them and they were anything but happy in their new quarters. This
state of things had been going on for some time, when one day Raven
took it into his head to fly across the water and see how the deserted
Lynx and his family were faring. Greatly exhausted by his exertions in
his half-famished state, he was glad to alight on the ridge-pole of Lynx's
keekwilee house. Recovering himself he looked round him and could
scarcely believe his eyes when he saw a chubby child, actually playing
with a ball of precious kidney fat, as if it were of no value at all. Seizing
an opportunity, when the child had rolled the ball of fat towards him, he
pounced down upon it and, urged partly by hunger and partly by greediness, strove to swallow it whole. But the ball was too big for his mouth
and stuck in the back of his throat. The child, seeing Raven gobble up
his plaything, set up a howl, which speedily brought out his mother. Perceiving what had happened she seized Raven by the neck and forced him
to disgorge the ball again. Then, giving him a good shaking, she
demanded from him what he was doing there, robbing the child of his
plaything. Raven confessed that he had flown over, out of curiosity, to
see how they were getting on, and, being very hungry, could not resist
the temptation to swallow the ball of fat when the opportunity was given
him. ' But how came you to be so starving 1' questioned the woman ;
' you are surely not short of food over the water.' ' Indeed, we are,'
responded Raven ; 'we are worse than short of food, we are all starving/
4 Ah,' said the woman, 'you have rightly fallen upon the lot you desired
for me. Go back to your companions and tell them I rejoice to hear of
their misfortunes. My husband and I shall enjoy our food the more from
knowing your stomachs are aching with hunger.' She spoke thus bitterly
because Raven's presence recalled their desertion of herself and child.
But Raven pleaded so hard for a meal first that she relented and gave
him as much meat and fat as he could eat, and told him he might come
over every day and get a meal on condition that he did not tell the others.
This Raven readily agreed to. When Raven first flew over he was thin
and poor, but after a little while the generous diet began to show its
effects upon him, and he grew plump and saucy once more, while his companions grew thinner and thinner. His condition soon attracted attention, and his comrades began to suspect that he knew of some stores of
food which he selfishly kept to himself. So one day they seized him and
threatened to kill him if he would not reveal the source whence he
secured his food. At first Raven was true to his promise, and would
disclose nothing * but seeing that his companions were in earnest, and
would undoubtedly kill him if he hid the matter from them any longer,
he confessed that he had been going to the old settlement, and had been
generously fed by Lynx and his wife, who were living in plenty. On
hearing this they determined to pocket their pride and return to the old
camp the very next day. In the meantime, while they were making their
preparations, Raven flew over and told Lynx and his wife what had
transpired. The woman, on hearing the news, recalled the promise she
had made to herself, and hastened to stock the food-eellars of those who
had thought of her in her distress. She filled their cellars with the
choicest game and fat, but put not a morsel in the cellars of the others.
Next day, when the tribe returned, those whose kind actions had borne 44
fruit feasted upon Lynx's game as they had not feasted for a long time
before. The others, whose cellars were as empty as their stomachs,
gathered round Lynx's keekwilee-house and eagerly picked up and
devoured the scraps which the woman had purposely thrown out. Little
Ant and several of his relatives climbed on the roof and began to eat the
fat that had gathered there. For some days neither Lynx nor his wife
would show themselves, but each morning they threw out a basketful of
bones and pickings, which were quickly seized and devoured by the
starving crowd. When the woman thought she had sufficiently humbled
their pride and revenged herself for their cruelty to her she bade her
husband make a great feast and invite them all to it. This he did, and
when they had eaten their fill he told them of his vision and the promise
his guardian spirit had made to him. From this they perceived that he
was ordained to be their chief. They accordingly denounced the old
chieftainess, declaring that she should have known all this, and, deposing
her, they made him chief in her place.
Thus Lynx's dream wa3 fulfilled, and he became a great man among
them from that time forward.
Tla'pas Cima'ms, or the Forgotten Wife Story.
There was once a young man who was very desirous of becoming a
great ' medicine' man, or Shaman. Following the usual custom of the
Indians he retired to a solitary spot that he might be alone. He subjected himself to the severest discipline, fasting till his body was so
wasted that his bones almost came through his skin, but he met with no
success. No dream or vision came to him ; no spirit promised him its
aid and help. Giving up the trial in despair, he resolved to go and visit
a certain famous Shaman who lived in another part of the country. On
his journey thither he came upon a secluded village through which his
path ran; and, as it was near night, he resolved to stay there till next
morning. To his surprise he found the village deserted, but for one
old woman. Going up to her he saw that she was very old and decrepit,
so old, indeed, that she could not sit upright, her body falling forward
between her knees as she crouched over the embers of a decaying charcoal
fire. By her side was a basket of koakoe'la, or ' husband' roots ; while
from every joint in her limbs and from each side of her head there grew
out young fir-trees. These appeared to incommode her considerably, and
as soon as she saw the young man she begged him to cut them for her.
Being of an obliging nature, and seeing that she was extremely old, and
probably wise and gifted with supernatural power, he complied with her
request. She then begged him to make her a little fresh charcoal for her
fire and place it by her side. This he did also, and then began to question
her as to why she was all alone and • why her people had deserted her.
' They have not deserted me,' answered she,' they are all dead. I have
outlived them all. I am very old, so old that the fir-trees grow upon me
as you have seen.'
' But how have you managed to live so long ?' questioned the youth.
1 Because my " medicine " is good,' she answered. ■ See these roots at my
side ? That is my " power."' I have eaten nothing but these since I was
a girl. In their strength I have lived on, while all my kinsfolk have died
and passed away. I have learnt, too, to read the secrets of the heart; I
know your ambition and the object of your journey through the forest. ON THE ETHNOLOGICAL SURVEY OF CANADA.
1 .  I   ■
But you will not attain your desire unless I assist you. This I will do in
return for your kindness to me. Take this root, peel off the skin, and eat
it when you are going to rest for the night, carefully preserving the root
itself for the future. In your sleep you will have a dream. Come to me
in the morning and tell me what you dreamt, and I will advise you of
your future course.' The youth took the root, promising to do as she bade
him. Before he lay down to sleep he carefully skinned the root as he had
been bidden, and then ate the skin, putting the root aside. In his sleep,
as the old woman had foretold, he had a strange and peculiar dream. He
dreamt that he had arrived at the Shaman's house, and had been sent by
him to perform three herculean tasks, which if he accomplished he was to
have the Shaman's beautiful daughter to wife, but if he failed he was to
be cast to a fierce and dreadful beast, which the Shaman kept in a den for
the purpose of devouring the bodies of the young men who failed to
accomplish his tasks. Next morning he related his dream to the old
woman, who then told him the nature of his first task, adding that if
he succeeded in accomplishing this he would receive help and advice
from another source with regard to the others. ' You will have to clear
a large tract* of forest land in a given time ; and so dense is the forest,
and the time allowed to do the work so short, that you cannot possibly do
it of yourself • but if you will be careful to follow my instructions you
will be enabled to perform the task within the allotted time and outwit the
Shaman. When he takes you to the field and asks if you will undertake
the work, answer boldly, *Yes, if you will supply me with a suitable
tool.' He will at once consent to do this ; then ask to see his mattocks.
When they are placed before you laugh at him, and ask if he thinks you
can use such children's tools as those. He will be surprised, and ask you
what kind of tools you want. Request him then to have a mattock made
for you that will take the strength of twenty men to lift. He will be
astonished, but will do as you request.' 'But,' interrupted the youth,
' what shall I do with such an unwieldy instrument as that 1 I am not
stronger than twenty men.' ' Be patient and listen,' replied the old
woman. ' The root I gave you last night is a " magic" root. Eat a
morsel of it now and test it.' The youth bit off a mouthful, and before
he had finished chewing it he felt a strange power enter his body, and
with it a desire to exercise his strength. ' Take up this log,' said the
old woman,' and swing it round your head/ The youth obeyed, and took
up a log that required the strength of a dozen ordinary men to lift, and
swung it round his head as if it had been a spear-haft. ' Now,' said the
old woman when he had cast the log to one side, ' you need not fear the
weight of your heavy mattock ; only if you desire the root to be effective
you must give good heed to my instructions. You will be tempted to
partake of the food from the Shaman's table before you set out to perform
your task. This you must on no account do. Turn your back upon his
breakfast and satisfy your appetite with the root I gave you. Eat it on
an empty stomach and have confidence in its virtue, and you will
successfully accomplish your labours.' The youth thanked the old woman
for her good advice and the root, and, bidding her good day, continued on
his way. On the following day he came to the residence of the great
Shaman. As he approached the house the younger daughter of the
Shaman saw him coming, and perceiving him to be a goodly, well-favoured
youth, her heart went out to him, and she was moved with pity, knowing
the evil that awaited him at her father's hands.    When he arrived at the 46 report—1899.
house the Shaman came and asked him what he could do for him.    The
young man answered that he sought to become a Shaman, and desired his
aid and advice to that end.    * Very good,' said the Shaman, ' I am willing
to help you on certain conditions.     You must become my servant for a
time, and must undertake to perform certain tasks which I will set you.
If you succeed in accomplishing these I shall see that you are fitted to
become a Shaman, and will initiate you into the mysteries of my profession, and will also bestow upon you one of my daughters for wife.'    ' On
these terms/ broke in the youth, ' I am willing to become your servant,
and attempt the tasks you may set me.'    ' Stay a while, my friend/ said
the Shaman, ' you have heard but half the conditions.    If you fail to
accomplish either of your tasks you will be cast to the fierce beast in the
den yonder/ and he pointed to a huge and fearful-looking creature which
was" penned up near the house, and which now roared horribly as the
Shaman spoke.    The sight of this ravening beast might have deterred a
less determined man than this youth, but remembering his dream and the
power which was his by virtue of the old woman's root, he again declared
his eagerness to essay the tasks and enter upon his novitiate.    ' Very
good/ said the Shaman with a wicked smile, ' to-morrow morning you
shall begin your work.    Come and I will show you your first task.'   And
with that he led him to the forest.    ' To-morrow before sunset you must
clear and prepare for planting seventy " fathoms " square of this land/
said the Shaman when they had reached the timber.   ' Very well/ replied
the youth, to the Shaman's astonishment, who expected to hear him cry
out and declare such a task to be impossible for any man.   ' I will do the
work provided you supply me with proper tools.'    ' There are plenty of
mattocks in the house/ said the Shaman ; ' I will have them brought to
you and you can choose your own.'   When the tools were placed before
the youth he laughed at the Shaman, as the old woman had bidden him,
and said they were children's tools, and that he wanted a man's tool.
' What kind of mattock do you want/ then exclaimed the Shaman, more
astonished than ever at the manner of the young man.    ' I will give you
whatever tool you require/    ' Very well/ then said the youth, ' have a
mattock made for me that will require the united strength of twenty men
to move it, and I will clear your land for you.'    The Shaman, marvelling
much at the confident manner of the youth before him, promised that the
tool should be ready for him at sunrise next morning.    On the morrow
the young man was up before daybreak.    He went to the stream and
plunged into the cold water; he then exercised himself after the custom
of the Indian youth of the old times, after which he made his breakfast
of the koakoe'la root.    This, not being very large, only served to whet his
appetite ; and when the Shaman presently invited him to sit down to
breakfast with himself and family, the savoury smell of the  fish and
venison sorely tempted him to comply, but remembering the admonition
of the old woman he thrust aside his desire, turned his back upon the
meal, and went forth to his task.    He had no. sooner left the house than
he felt a rush of energy and strength to his body and limbs, and catching
up the newly-made mattock swung the huge implement with ease round
and round his shoulders.    Without loss of time he betook himself to the
forest, and such was the marvellous power of the koakoe'la root that ere
the sun had reached the zenith he had cleared the piece of land and felt
little the worse for his task.    He now returned to the house, and the
Shaman, seeing him coming, wearing   a  bold and self-confident look, f
ON the ethnological SURVEY OF CANADA. 47
scarcely knew what to think; and when told that the work was done
would not believe it till he had examined it with his own eyes. Finding
the task really satisfactorily performed, a great hate now sprang up in
his heart towards the youth, and he secretly determined to cut his life
short, lest he should prove a future rival to himself and rob him of his
influence and power. To this end he prepared a snare for him. Pretending to be well pleased at the manner in which he had performed his
first task, he told the young man that he would not wait till he had
accomplished the other tasks before giving him his daughter to wife, but
would bestow her upon him that very day. The young man, nothing
loth to possess so desirable a wife as one of the Shaman's daughters,
asked which of the two was to be his wife. Said the Shaman, ' Choose for
yourself, my son ; you may have which you like.' The youth looked at
the two young women, and to his surprise found them so exactly alike
that he could not tell the one from the other, and was at a loss for the
moment which to choose, till he caught the soft and yearning look in the
eyes of the younger, whose heart he had unconsciously won, when he
hesitated no longer, but chose her. ' Very well/ said the parent, ' I will
prepare a house for you, and to-night you shall find both it and her ready
for you.' Now the young woman's love for the youth made her suspect
her father's motives, and feigning complete indifference for her future
husband she sought to discover her parent's purposes. He, never suspecting that her feelings had been roused, or that she cared one jot for the
youth, made no secret of his purpose. He had caused a deep hole to be
made in the ground, just before the door of the chamber he had prepared
for the newly wedded pair, at the bottom of which he had built a huge
fire of charcoal, and over the top of which, on a level with the ground, he
had placed a cunningly contrived door that revolved on a central pivot.
This door was so evenly hung that it remained balanced by its own
weight, effectually covering the hole and the fire beneath ; but should one
not familiar with the contrivance be unwary enough to place his foot on
either half of the door, it would immediately give way beneath and precipitate him into the yawning furnace below, from which there was no
possible escape. This was the bridal couch the jealous Shaman prepared
for his unsuspecting son-in-law, and the latter would doubtless have thus
miserably ended his life but for the love and warning of his bride.
Having ascertained that her father entertained no doubts that his trap
would successfully dispose of her lover, and that they would be left in
peace, at least for the night, if he succeeded in passing the death-trap, she
took the opportunity, unobserved by her sister or parents, to acquaint her
husband with the whole plot, telling him how to safely cross the door.
He saw from this that his young wife's help was the aid the old woman
had told him would be given him after he had performed the first task,
and feeling that some friendly power was working for him, he awaited
the approach of night without agitation or concern. When they had
eaten their supper, and the young women had retired, the Shaman pointed
out to the youth the apartment occupied by his bride, and left him to
join her. As he approached the door he trod very carefully, trying the
ground in front of him before he put his foot down. When he had got
quite near the door he felt the ground give way beneath his advanced
foot, and pressing upon it a little discerned the outlines of the trap-door ;
and putting his foot in the centre, as his wife had instructed him, he gave
a leap and crossed the treacherous spot without harm, and the warm wei-
-wmj-M 48 report—1899.
come of his bride soon made him forget the danger he had run in reaching
her. Next morning, when the Shaman, according to his wont, aroused
his family, he was greatly astonished to see the young man appear safe
and sound from his daughter's quarters ; but dissembling his feelings he
bade him good morrow and hoped he was ready for his second task that
day. ' O yes/ responded the youth, ' I am quite ready and eager.' When
he had gone for his morning plunge and exercise, the father took the
opportunity of warning his wife and daughters that they were on no
account to give the youth any hints or advice. ' He has some powerful
medicine/ added he, ' working in his behalf, or he could not have accomplished the task I set him yesterday or escape the trap I placed for him
last night. If I do not destroy him I foresee he will outwit me and
deprive me of my prestige and power.' He little suspected that his
younger daughter had already revealed the nature of his second task he
proposed to set him, and had conspired to outwit him and assist her husband. But so it was ; for before they had risen that morning she had
told him that her father would change herself and sister and mother into
three beautiful speckled trout, so exactly alike that it would be impossible to tell one from another without assistance from the fish themselves.
Said the young wife, ' I will wag my head from side to side as I swim
about : by this means you will be able to distinguish me from the others
when you are asked to point me out, without exciting my father's suspicions that I am helping you ; for/ added she, ' the task that awaits you
to-day is to point out which of the three fish is your wife. Be careful not
to point me out at the very commencement of the trial. Pretend for a
while to be in doubt, and declare the task to be impossible, and only
when you have exhausted my father's patience make a real and final
effort.' The young man promised to do as she had bidden him, and
thanked her for her good advice.
All breakfast-time the Shaman was very merry and talked much,
telling the youth how many young men had come to him to be initiated
into the mysteries of Shamanism and had proved themselves unworthy,
and had been cast to the beast and been devoured. The youth was not
to be dismayed by the misfortunes of those who had tried before him and
failed. Secure in the love and assistance of the Shaman's own daughter,
and mindful of his dream, he maintained, to the Shaman's secret chagrin,
the same self-confident air that he had worn on the previous day. As
soon as the morning meal was over, the Shaman bade his daughters fetch
a large basket-tub and fill it with water. As soon as they had done this
he called the young man to him and said, ' Now you must essay your
second task, and if you fail, notwithstanding your success of yesterday, I
shall cast you to the beast.' Transforming his wife and two daughters
therewith into three speckled trout, so exactly alike that it was impossible
to detect the slightest difference between them, he cast them into the
basket of water and bade the youth come near. After watching them for
a moment he asked the young man which had the smallest tail. ' It is
impossible to say/ replied the youth; ' they seem to me to be exactly of
the same size.' 'Which has the largest head, then?' questioned the
Shaman. ' I cannot say/ said the youth. ' Which has the finest fins ?'
1 They are all equally fine/ was the answer. And thus the Shaman questioned him upon all their points, always receiving a similar answer from
the youth, as his wife had instructed him. The Shaman then put the
real and final question: ' Which of the three is your wife, my youngest I i
daughter 1' ' Really, I don't think I can say/ pretended the youtli; * it
seems impossible to determine.' ' Oh, but you must,' declared the
Shaman, now so delighted that he could scarce hide it, ' or pay the
forfeit.' And as he spoke he pointed to the beast, which roared horribly
at the same moment. The young man then put forth his hand as if to
point out the fish he thought his wife, but immediately withdrew it again
with a show of doubt and hesitation. He repeated this manoeuvre several
times until the Shaman, losing patience and believing that the youth
was now in his power, declared he must hesitate no longer, but make his
choice and abide by the result. The youth then closely watched the
three fish for a moment, and seeing one separate itself a little from the
other two and shake its head vigorously, he quickly pointed to it and
said, 'That one is my wife and your younger daughter.' As he uttered
the words the three fish were transformed back to women again, and
stepped out of the basket. The Shaman was so disappointed at the turn
events had taken that he could scarcely hide his feelings, but making
pretence, he congratulated the youth, declaring that one day he would
become a very great Shaman if he were lucky enough to be successful in
his third and final trial, which was fixed to take place on the morrow.
The next morning, before they rose, the young wife informed her
husband that the task which awaited him for that day was a race with
her father, who was so exceeding fleet of foot that no man had ever
successfuHy competed with him. 'You cannot of yourself/ said she,
' hope to beat him—his medicine is too strong for that. I alone can aid
you, and if you will place your trust and confidence in me I can promise
you success. When you find my father gaining on you in the race and
your strength failing, you must fix your eyes steadfastly upon my face,
and you will then find yourself able to outrun him. Do not neglect my
instructions, or ill will it be for both of us.' He thanked her for her help
and advice, and made up his mind to do as she had told him if he found
he was losing ground.
The Shaman presently called him aside and informed him that he
must now prepare himself for the third and final trial, ' which/ said he,
' is a race with myself.' The youth prepared himself accordingly, and
presently stood side by side with the Shaman, waiting for the moment to
start. The three women had gone to the other end of the course to see
the finish. The signal being given they started, and ran neck and neck
for the greater part of the way. But as they approached the goal the
Shaman began to make use of his medicine and leave the youth behind.
The latter strove again and again to overtake the Shaman, but all his
efforts were in vain : he found himself slipping farther and farther behind,
and it was only when his strength began to fail him, and the Shaman was
almost at the goal, that he recalled his wife's instructions. Quickly fixing
his gaze upon her face, he felt in an instant a sudden rush of energy to
his limbs as her eyes seemed to burn through his brain, and his feet
seemed as if they had taken wings to themselves, for they now carried
him along without any effort of his own, and landed him at the goal
several yards in. advance of his father-in-law, whose rage and disappointment was now so great that he could not speak for anger. But still he
dissembled and acknowledged his son-in-law's victory, and forthwith
undertook to initiate him into the mysteries of his profession if he would
settle down with him and become his pupil. This the youth consented to
do, being still* wishful to become a Shaman.    But the Shaman's daughter,
H 1—7
X 50 REPORT—1899.
his wife, was troubled in her mind, knowing that her parent would never
spare her husband's life, but would continue to plot against him till he
had destroyed him. So when night came, and she had an opportunity of
conversing with him alone without arousing suspicion, she communicated
her fears to him concerning his safety under her father's roof, and counselled immediate and secret flight to his own village and home. The
youth assenting to her plan, they set out together that very night, making
all the haste possible that they might be well advanced upon their journey
before they were missed. In the morning, when the Shaman roused his
family as usual, he was surprised to find his daughter and son-in-law
absent, and as the day advanced, and there was no appearance of them, he
became convinced that they had fled together from him. Said he to his
wife, ' Now I understand where his assistance came from. Our daughter
has betrayed me, and now run away with her husband. But they shall
not escape me thus. I will after them and bring them back.' And as he
spoke he sought for their trail, which, as they had made no attempt to
hide it, trusting to their start, he soon discovered and hastened to follow
up. With the aid of his Shamanistic powers he was able to travel much
faster than they; and he had not pursued them long when the runaway
daughter cried out to her husband: ' My father is pursuing us and is
close upon us; I know it by the trembling in my body. Now stay a
moment, and I will use my medicine/ Forthwith she transformed her
husband into a little sugar-tree * where he stood, and herself into another
close by over against him • and where a moment before two human beings
had stood there now grew in their place two old and partly decayed
sugar-trees. The transformation had scarcely been effected when the
Shaman came up. When he reached the sugar-trees he found the trail
suddenly stop, and look and search as he would he could find no continuation of it. Casting his eyes around him, he presently perceived that the
trail ended at the sugar-trees, so having the power to converse with trees
he addressed them, and asked if they had seen a young man and
woman pass that way. The sugar-tree that was his daughter replied that
no one had passed by that way since they had grown there. ' How long
have you been growing here ?' questioned the Shaman. ' Oh, we are very
old/ said the daughter. ' Cannot you see how decayed we have become ?'
Never suspecting that he was conversing with his daughter, after searching all round again and finding no clue to follow, he gave up the pursuit
and turned back homewards again. When he was out of sight the
daughter resumed her proper form, transforming at the same time her
husband to his owmshape, and both continued on their way as fast as
they could. The Shaman, on reaching his home, was asked by his wife
why he had returned alone. He related his experience, telling her that
the trail was clear and easy till he came to the sugar-trees, and then it
ceased suddenly, and no trace of the fugitives could be found beyond.
* You silly man/ said the wife, ' don't you see that the sugar-trees were
your daughter and her husband ? You know that she possesses the
" power " as well as you. Hasten back after them, and don't be fooled by
her again.'   Perceiving that she must be right, he started after the run-
1 The • sugar-tree,* called by the natives qwa'hit, is a species of pine—the white
pine of the district, as far as I could gather from my informant's description of it.
When the tree is first tapped the sap is sweet and not unpalatable, but after a day's
exposure to the atmosphere it becomes disagreeable and unpleasant to the taste.
_J f! f
aways once more, and presently arrived at the spot where the sugar-trees
had stood, but which were now nowhere to be seen. Desperately angry
at finding he had been outwitted again by his own daughter, as his wife
had suggested, and perceiving the trail broad and clear before him, he
hastened to overtake them once more. It was not long after this that
the young wife cried out to her husband, ' My father is pursuing us again,
and will speedily overtake us and seize us if I do not do something to
prevent it. I know it by the trembling in my body.' Immediately she
set to work to gather two bundles of brushwood. This done, she transformed them into two wretched, broken-down huts, and herself and
husband into a pair of decrepit and grey-headed old people. She had no
sooner accomplished this second metamorphosis than her father arrived,
and finding the trail stopped short here, he accosted the old couple and
asked them if they had seen two young people pass that way. The
daughter answered for both again, and replied that no one had passed that
way for many years. ' Have you been living here long ?' questioned the
Shaman. 'We were young and active when we first settled here/ answered the daughter; 'now you can see for yourself that we are old and grey/
'It is strange/ replied the Shaman, 'here are their tracks to this very spot,
and no sign of them beyond. Perhaps they have hidden themselves in your
houses.' ' You are welcome to look/ said the woman, ' but I am sure they
are not there.' The Shaman then made a close search of both hovels, but
found no trace of those whom he sought; and after a fruitless effort to
discover the trail beyond the huts gave up the search and returned home
once more. As before, no sooner was he gone than the pair, resuming
their proper forms, started off again on their journey without delay.
When the Shaman arrived home he related his second experience to his
wife/who laughed at him again for not perceiving in the old pair another
ruse of his daughter's. ' The old man and woman were your daughter and
her husband without doubt. Return quickly and you will still secure
them.' The Shaman set out yet a third time after the runaways, and
coming to the spot where the cottages had stood a little while before discovered nothing there but two heaps of brushwood, beyond which he now
clearly discerned the tracks of the fugitives. Taking up the trail again
he hurried after them. As he was about to come up with them the young
woman cried out,' I am all in a tremble again: my father is close upon us.
I must use my power once again, and if we succeed in deceiving him this
time he will molest us no further/ And with that she spat upon the
ground and the spittle became at once a lake. She then transformed herself and husband into a pair of mallard ducks, and entering the Water
bade her husband follow her. They had been in the water but a few
moments when the Shaman came up, and finding the trail lead into the
water he stopped and looked about him. Understanding the language of
birds he now accosted the ducks and asked them if they had seen a young
man and woman cross the lake. The daughter, answering for both, as
she alone knew the language of birds, replied shortly that they had
not. The Shaman then requested them to swim over to the other side of
the lake and see if they could discover any tracks leading out of the water.
Said the female duck ' Go and look for yourself ; we cannot wait upon you.'
The Shaman, though by this time weary and foot sore, dragged himself round
to the other side of the lake, but perceiving no footmarks there concluded
that the fugitives had drowned themselves, and presently returned home
and gave up the chase.    The young people, starting on their way once
H4-8 52 report—1899.
more, shortly came near the young man's home. As they approached the
village he said to his wife, ' Now, I want you to remain here in the wood
while I go forward and prepare my mother and father for your arrival.
She demurred to this, asking why she could not accompany him. • Oh,
that would never do/ said he, ' my parents must have time to prepare for
your reception. I will only go forward 8nd inform them that I am
bringing home a wife and then return for you.' She continued to demur
to the arrangement. ' Have you any brothers V questioned she presently.
• No/ he answered, ' I have no brothers, only two sisters.' ' Promise me,
then/ said she 'that if I let you go you will not let your family kiss you
before you return to me.' ' Why do you wish me to make that promise 1'
asked he. ' Because if your sisters or your father and mother kiss you
before you come back to me you will forget all about me and will not
return, but leave me here all alone in the woods.' The young man, who
was very fond of his wife, declared that was impossible ; but willing to
gratify her he readily promised to do as she requested, and bidding her
have no fear of his speedy return he left her there and entered the village.
He had not got far before his two sisters perceived him coming, and rushed
in to inform their parents, who no sooner heard of his arrival than they
ran out to meet him, followed by their two daughters. When they got
near they embraced him fondly, and he, in the pleasure of meeting them
again, forgot all about his promise to his wife, and suffered himself to be
kissed by them. And as they led him into the house all recollection of
his young wife anxiously waiting for him at the edge of the forest left his
mind, and he forgot her as completely as if she had never existed. When
he had been absent some hours and night began to come on without any
sign of him she began to fear that he had broken his promise ; and as day
after day went by she became certain of the fact. So she built herself a
little house on the edge of the village close to the roadway, and at the
back of it she added a small lean-to. When she had done this she took a
lump of clay, and after kneading it she made from it two clay birds. She
next transformed the clay effigies into real, live birds, and placed them in
the lean-to at the back of her house. Several days had now elapsed since
she had lost her husband, who, having completely forgotten that he had
ever been married, at the suggestion of his parents began to look round
for a wife. Having chosen a maiden that suited his fancy he asked his
parents to take the necessary steps to bring about the marriage. Negotiations were opened, presents accepted and exchanged, and a day was
fixed for the ceremony. The father of the bride-elect was desirous of
marking the event in a very conspicuous manner ; so he gave notice that a
great feast would be held in honour of the occasion, and sent out invitations far and wide. He also invited all those who possessed any curious
or interesting things to come and exhibit them, being determined to make
the feast a memorable event. The forsaken young wife at the edge of
the village heard the news of the approaching marriage of her husband in
some mysterious way, and laid her plans to prevent it accordingly. A
day or two before the feast a young man chanced to return from the
forest, whither he had gone to gather roots for the feast, by the path that
led past her hut. As he passed the door she came out and asked him
what he had in his basket. ' They are roots/ answered he, ' that I have
been gathering for the feast.' ' Ah/ said she, 'that is just what I want
for my tame birds. I will buy them from you.' ' But I cannot sell them/
returned he,' they are for the feast.    But let me take your birds instead ; ON THE ETHNOLOGICAL SURVEY OF CANADA.
' I
we want all the meat we can get.' ' No, I do not want to part with my
birds/ replied she ; ' but come in awhile and talk to me.' The youth,
perceiving her to be a very agreeable and pleasing young woman, nothing
loth, acceded to her request, and entered the hut with her. She now
pretended to make love to him, and he, falling into the snare, desired to
spend the night at her house This was what she desired for her purpose,
and bade him welcome. When they were about to retire for the night,
and he had disrobed himself, a sudden commotion took place among the
birds in the lean-to. ' Oh/ cried she, ' I have forgotten to place my pets
on their perch. Do go out and set them on the perch for me.' He
wanted her to leave them as they were, but she insisted that he should
first set them on the perch before he lay down. Thinking it best to
humour her he went out, undressed as he was, and tried to set the birds oi*
the perch ; but no sooner had he placed one on it than the other tumbled
off again. When he had spent a little time thus to no purpose he cried
out to her that they kept falling off the perch, and that he must leave
them as they were. But this she would not hear of; he must set them
on the perch or he could not return to her. Being anxious not to vex
her, this he again tried to do. But so contrary and perverse were the
birds that they fell off as fast as he put them on. As he now began to
feel cold in his undressed state he begged again and again that she would
allow him to leave them and return to her • but each time she made his
return conditional upon his permanently setting the birds on the perch,
and laughed at him for his stupidity in not being able to do so simple a
thing. But do what he would the birds slid off their perch as quickly as
he placed them on it, and dawn began to appear before he at last succeeded
in getting them to remain there. Glad that at length he might now
return to her, he eagerly rushed into the house as the first beams of the
sun shot across the sky. He found the young woman up and dressed,
and when he would fain have spent a little while with her in amorous
dalliance she coldly bade him hasten away before the village was astir,
and he was seen leaving her house by the elders, and thus bring disgrace
upon himself and her. This argument appealed to him so strongly that
he forthwith caught up his clothes, and without stopping to put them on
ran from the hut to the village, and got home before he had been seen by
anyone. In his haste he had left his basket of roots behind him, which
was just what the Shaman's daughter had planned for. But such an
experience as the youth had gone through could not be kept long to himself ; and before the day was over he had related it to several of his
comrades, one of whom, fired by his account of her attractions and beauty,
determined to pay the young woman a visit himself that same evening.
' You will not succeed/ said the first youth, ' any better than I did ; she
is not so easily won as you think.' ' uh, won't 1/ retorted the other : ' I
will carry some string with me and tie the creatures to their perch.' So
when evening arrived he took some string in his clothes and a basket on
his arm with some roots in it, and passed by the young wife's house, as his
comrade had done. She came to the door and asked what he had in the
basket. ' I am taking home some roots for the feast to-morrow/ said he.
' Oh, sell them to me, won't you ?' requested she ; * I want some roots for
my birds/ * What birds have you got ?' questioned he ; ' we want all the
animals we can get for the feast to-morrow. Won't you exchange them
for my roots ?' 'I will see/said she. ' Come in and show me your roots.'
He entered the house with her, when she speedily bewitched him with her 54 Report—1899.
charms and beauty, and made him ready and willing to do whatever she
bade him. He said he would like to spend the night at her house. To
this she pretended to assent, and when he was about to lie down, having
disrobed himself for the night, a disturbance taking place as before in the
bird-house, she begged him to slip out quickly and set her birds on the
perch for her, declaring they would give her no peace if they were not
placed on the perch. Thinking himself a match for the stupidity or perversity of the birds, he made no demur to this, and as he thought he would
be returning in a moment or so he did not trouble to clothe himself, but
went just as he stood. He experienced just the same difficulty as his
comrade had done the previous night. The birds would not stay on the
perch ; and when he tried to tie them with the thongs he had brought he
found that the task was not so easy as he had imagined. Again and
again he thought he had securely fastened them, but just as he turned to
leave the birds slipped each time from the perch, and set up such a cackling
that he was fain to try again. At last he succeeded in getting them to
remain on the perch, but by this time the morning was breaking, and as
he entered the hut the sun showed himself on the edge of the horizon, and
he knew he could safely linger no longer. Moreover, the young woman
was now cold and distant to him, and repulsed his advances, bidding him
return to the village before he brought disgrace upon them both. Resolving that on his next visit to her he would not be so easily fooled, he
caught up his clothes and ran hastily into the village. The talk of the
young men among themselves soon noised abroad the fact that the stranger
on the edge of the village possessed a pair of remarkable birds. This
presently reaching the ears of the father of the bride-elect, he sent a special
messenger to request the young woman to be present at the feast and
exhibit her odd pets. This was just what she had all along been working
for, and readily consented to be present and show her birds. Accordingly
she came, and stood among those who had some tricks or exhibitions to
make ; and when they had gone through their parts she came forward and
placed her two birds on a mat in front of her husband and the chief guests.
Her husband scarcely noticed her, and certainly no thought of his relation
to her entered his mind. When she had set the birds down she took from
a basket at her side some of the roots she had secured from the youths
and threw them to the birds. The male bird instantly gobbled them all
up, driving the female away ; at which, to the great astonishment ot all,
the hen bird began to speak in human language and upbraid and reproach
her greedy spouse for his selfishness and gluttony. Said she, ' Why won't
you let me eat of the roots *? I did not treat you like that. Don't you
remember how kind I was to you when my father would have killed you
by letting you walk into the hidden fire 1 And this is the return you make
to me ! I did not think you could be so unkind and forgetful.' Everybody wondered what the bird meant by such strange words. When it
ceased speaking the young Shaman was seen to look perplexed and
puzzled, as if he were trying to understand something that was not yet
clear to his mind. The young woman now threw the birds some more
roots, whereupon the male bird did as before, drove the other away, and
ate the roots himself. Again the hen bird reproached him, saying, ' How
can you treat me so unkindly ! Don't you remember what I did for you
when my father changed me and my sister and mother into trout and you
had to declare which fish was your wife or be thrown to the fierce beast
and devoured ?'   Her words, however, made no impression upon the cock, ON THE ETHNOLOGICAL SURVEY OF CANADA.
who each time the young woman threw them roots drove his mate off and
ate them all up himself. But as the hen recalled to the memory of the
selfish cock her deeds of past kindness one after the other, which corresponded exactly to the acts of the young Shaman's lately forsaken wife,
his memory became clearer and clearer until in the last scene of this little
domestic drama of the birds, when the hen said, ' Didn't I tell you that
you would forget and forsake me if you allowed your sisters and parents
to kiss you before you returned to me ?' the full memory of the past
suddenly rushed to his mind, and in the young woman before him exhibiting her birds he recognised his forsaken and forgotten wife. He sprang
up with a great cry and embraced her before the whole assembly, calling
her by all the dear names he could think of. His action caused great
astonishment to those present, but he explained that the stranger was his
wife, and told them how he had won and lost her. Even the bride elect
and her relations could not complain, and he was permitted to withdraw
from the proposed marriage. Compensation in the form of presents was
made to the father of the disappointed young woman who had so strangely
been robbed of her prospective husband, and another suitor was found
for her.
Story of the Adventures of Snikia'p * the Coyote, and his Son N'tlikcu'mfum.
In the old, old days Snikia'p lived all alone by himself. He had
neither wife nor children. He much desired a son, and being a medicineman of great power it was not difficult for him to obtain his desire. One
day he got a lump of pitch,2 and, working it in his hands for a while,
fashioned it in the form of a human being. Having done this he laid it
on the ground and stepped over it three times, saying at the same time,
' Rise up/ After the third time the effigy rose upon its feet and became
a living being. He now bids his son to be exceedingly careful never to
go where it was hot. ' Harm will come to you, my son/ said he, ' if you
do. When the weather is very warm you must go and swim in the river,
and when it is cool you can safely come home again.' The hoy, who
steadily grows, followed his father's instructions carefully for a time ; but
after a while he gets tired of passing the best part of the day in the water.
So one day he finds a large flat stone on the bank and lies down upon it
in the sun. The sun's heat soon begins to act upon him, and in a short
time he melts away. When evening came and he did not return as usual,
Snikia'p goes out to look for him, and presently discovers the melted pitch
on the ground.    He now determines to create another son for himself who
1 Dr. G. M. Dawson has recorded a brief account of the doings of Snikia'p the
Coyote, from notes supplied him by Mr. J. W. Mackay, in his 'Notes on the Shuswap
People of British Columbia,' Trans. Roy. Son. Canada, sec. ii. 1891. According to my
informant, Chief Mischelle, of Lytton, an exceptionally intelligent and well-informed
man, the name should be written as I have transliterated it. I have heard it called
Shnikia'p by the Indians, and also by Mischelle himself once. In the mouth of the
Indians of this region the dental sibilant s commonly changes into the corresponding
palatal sh, the speakers being apparently unaware of the change themselves. According to Dr. Dawson the Shuswaps of Kamloops call this being SkiUVp. Snikia'p is
the N'tlaka'pamuQ for Coyote. The Coyote always goes by this name in the stories
(see below). This SMWp, or Snikia'p, is frequently confused in the stories with
Skoe'qt-koatlt, the Culture-hero of the N'tlaka'pamuQ. See the writer's account of the
doings of this hero in the Transactums of the English Folklore Society for this year.
* Dr. Dawson has also recorded a brief account of a story similar in part to this
in his * Notes,* only in the 8huswap version it it a lonely grizzly woman who creates a
son in this way for herself, and the after incidents are also different.
'<f 56 report—1899.
should not be subject to the disadvantages under which the other had
laboured. As he was thinking out of what material he should make him
this time, his eyes fell upon a jade boulder lying on the bank. ' Oh/ said
he, ' that is a fine material. I will make a jade son.' So he took the jade
boulder and fashioned it into the form of a boy, going through the same
ceremony of stepping over it three times as before. When the stone son
was come to life he admonished him never on any account to go n^ar the
water or try to swim in the river, or he would surely suffer for it. The
jade-lad observed his commands for some time, but being very hot one
day, and the water looking cool and tempting, he forgot his father's injunctions and plunged into the river to bathe. Immediately he sank to
the bottom and was drowned. When Snikia'p learnt that his stone son
had disobeyed his injunctions and was drowned, he made yet another son
for himself. On this occasion he fashioned him from the fibrous matter
of certain vegetables and shrubs. He observed the same ceremonies as
before. This time the boy could do anything or go anywhere without
harm. When the boy had grown into a big lad, Snikia'p proposed that
they should go and pay a visit to a great tribe some.way off. The people
of this place were celebrated for their skill and power in hunting and
fishing, and in wood splitting. Said Snikia'p to his son, 'My medicine
informs me that they will try to kill us by means of a great conflagration
they will bring about. You must therefore practise jumping until you
are a great jumper. They will try to kill you first in another way. They
will give you a fine-looking woman for wife, and also a spear, and send you
to spear salmon. When you go to the river you will see salmon with hair
on them, and painted salmon, and animal salmon with legs. Be careful
not to spear any of these. Spear a good eating salmon and hold this rush
in your hand all the time,' and Snikia'p gave the lad a magic rush. ' When
you have speared your salmon/ he continued, * hold on tight to your spear,
and you will be pulled into the water. Don't be alarmed at this ; you
will not drown. As soon as you are in the water open the rush I have
given you with your fingers and get inside of it. You will find that you
can do this, and you will then float down the river. In a little while you
will drift to the bank. Get out then, and you will see the salmon again.
Use your spear again when a good salmon passes you and spear two.
Take these home with you. When you arrive you will find them making
preparations to kill me.    When they see you they will desist.'
When Snikia'p and his son arrived at the village of this tribe everything happened as Snikia'p had foretold. The boy followed his father's
instructions, doing exactly what he had told him. On getting back with
the fish he finds the people about to kill his father, not expecting his
return, thinking he would fall into the snare they had set for him and be
drowned. When they see him approaching, they desist from their attempt
' to kill his father and propose that they should all go hunting. This they
do ; and when they are out they fire the bush in several places, so that
Snikia'p and his son are surrounded by a great ring of fire. They are
both much burnt and scorched, and only manage to escape with their lives
by taking immense leaps over the burning grass and timber. The fire has
spread everywhere and no spot is safe. ' Wre must find a trail/ said
Snikia'p, ' or we shall be lost.' After jumping about a good deal they at
last come out upon a broad trail. They lie down on this with their faces
to the ground and the fire passes by them, having nothing to feed upon
iu the beaten path.    But they were much scorched by the heat, and the
gj^T'^**"*^^ ' "  - ^r~»^«^v^^v>^~—-^-~ —^-rr ON  THE  ETHNOLOGICAL SURVEY  OF  CANADA. 0/
Coyote has ever since worn a yellow skin in consequence.    After a time
they get up and follow the trail, and presently come upon a strange
village, where the people are kind and hospitable.    The son now marries
two wives, the daughter of the eagle and the daughter of the duck.    The
first had red hair and a red face, and the other had light hair and a white
face.    The youth now travels about a good deal; he is also a successful
hunter.    He grows rich and becomes the possessor of many shell beads ■
(Stlak'), of a species of the dentalida?, and fine clothes.    A son is born to
him by his eagle wife.    One day he goes out hunting with bis father and
his wives and child.    Since he has been married his father, who now
desires a wife, has envied him very much and cast longing eyes towards
his daughters-in-law.    At night they camp out, and the old man kindles
a fire of cedar wood.    This, after the manner of cedar wood, shot out so
many sparks that the eagle-wife drew back from the fire to escape the
sparks which fell upon her dress.    The duck-wife, on the contrary, sat on,
only pulling up her legs.    In sitting thus she exposed the lower part of
her body and legs to her father-in-law,  Snikia'p.    From this time he
schemed to deprive his son of his wives and take them for himself.    He
therefore climbs a tree, and in its topmost branches builds a bird's nest, de-
faecates in it, and transforms the excrement into young eagles. This he did
on the second day of the hunting, when his son was absent.    He had
remained at the camp for the purpose.    When the son returns in the
evening he hears the cries of the eaglets and looks round to discover the ;
nest.    Snikia'p now comes forward and says, ' I discovered an eagle's nest
in this tall fir to day, and by the sound of the birds they must be almost
ready to fly. If I were you I should climb the tree and get them.  Eagle's
feathers would look well with your other ornaments.'   Now, as eagle'sl
feathers were a great prize, not easy to get, the youth determined to follow
his father's advice and climb the tree and secure the young birds before
they flew away,    The crafty father was not only desirous of securing his
son's wives for himself, but also his handsome robes, and so when his son!
would have climbed the tree as he stood in his clothes he suggested that
he should first take them off and leave them at the foot of the tree for
fear of injuring them. The son, suspecting no guile, did so, and climbed the
tree naked.    When the son had climbed a good way up the tree the father
began to draw and distort his face, screwing up first one eye and then the
other.    Thereupon the tree began to grow up—up it went into the clouds,
carrying the climber with it.    Presently, when the point shot through i
the clouds they closed upon it like a vice and held it fast.    Meanwhile j
the son had reached the nest; but when he got there, instead of young J
eagles, he finds only human excrement.  He now seeks to return, but finds |
his way down the tree barred by the clouds.    He cannot get down.    He 1
now perceives that his father has duped him, and he sits down and cries.* j
Presently he gets up and walks forward.    He continues walking all the
rest of that day till night comes on.    He now feels cold, for he has no
clothes on, but he lies down and covers his body as best he may with his]
long hair.    The next day, and for several following days, he walks on till
he hears a sound of knocking.    He now looks about him, and the smell of
1 My informant told me that the natives used to get these shells from the
Okanagan Lakes, and not from the coast.
* In the stories of the Indians men are often found to cry. Crying on the part
of a man seems not to have been regarded as unmanly.
m 58 report—1899.
smoke strikes on his nostrils. Presently he spies a little framehouse
covered with mats. When he gets near he peeps in and sees there two
old women who are both blind. He now perceives that the knocking
proceeds from them. They are pounding up fir branches for food. One
of them presently gathers up the pulp and passes a portion of it to the
other. The youth intercepts the food and eats it himself. The old woman
who should have got it now begins to grumble at her sister for not giving
her a share of the food. ' I did give you your share/ retorted the other.
• I put it into your hand. I felt you take it.' The other declared she
hadn't got it. ' Well, here's some more. Hold out your hand and be careful to take it this time/ The other held out her hand, but the young man
intercepted the food again, and ate it himself. The old woman who was
being thus robbed now began to get angry, and upbraided her sister for
selfishly keeping all the food for herself. The other defended herself, and
declared she had passed the food and felt her take it. ' Now, give mo
your hand once more and let me put it in the palm of it/ said she. Again
did the youth seize the food, and the two old women now began to revile
each other. Presently one of them began sniffing and smelling, as if she
scented something strange. Said she, ' I smell N'tlikcu'mtum.' - - How
do you know it is N'tlikcu'mtum ?' said the other ; 'you have never seen
him/ ' Well/ answered the first, ' there's nobody but ourselves and the
spider and his wife in this country. They are not here, and you say you
didn't get the food I put into somebody's hand, so it must he N'tlikcu'mtum.' The youth now reveals himself and speaks to the old women. He
chides them for quarrelling, but as they have done him no great harm,
only called him N'tlikcu'mtum, he will not put an end to them outright,
but will transform them into something useful. Taking one cf them by
the nose, he said, • You will be good meat for the hunter when he is far
from home and bigger game is scarce/ and therewith threw her to one
side of him and she became a willow-grouse. He then took hold of the
other in the same way and threw her into a ' sugar-tree/ 2 and she straightway became a black-grouse, or tcuk-tcukt,3 commonly known as the
'booby-grouse/ 'You will be of service now too/ said he, 'and hunters
will easily snare you and pull you off the branches by noosing you. You
will both of you now be much happier because you can both see to gather
and eat your food when you are hungry/ Thus were the willow- and
black-grouse brought into being. He now proceeds on his way, and
seeing some pretty flowers growing by the side he plucked one. It
came up by the root in his hand, leaving a small hole in the ground.
Now as the crust of this cloudland earth was very thin this hole went
right through to the other side and let the wind up. It rushed through
with some force, and he put his foot over the hole to stop it up. From
this point he travelled on, still in his naked state, till he came to some
forest land, the sight of which much cheered him. Presently he sees
some smoke rising in the air. He hastens in its direction, hoping to find
somebody who will help him. On getting nearer he perceives a keekwilee-
house before him. He approaches it quietly and peers down the smoke-
hole, and sees an old man sitting within as naked as himself, engaged in
1 This term has reference to the dirty trick played upon him by his father. It
is the name by which he is known from this time forward. I was unable to obtain
its exact signification, but it is connected with the eagle-nest incident.
2 See note above on this tree.
* Tcuk-tcukt means tame, and refers to the tameness of these birds. ON THE ETHNOLOGICAL SURVEY OF CANADA.
rolling Spa'tzin (Asclepias speciosa) on his thigh into rope.1 This old man
was bka'kit, the Spider, whose home is in the clouds. On seeing the
shadow caused by the youth he looked up and perceived him. As soon
as his eyes fell upon him he began to weep and lament. ' O dear wife/
said he, ' here is our grandson all naked and cold. Bring some blankets
and skins for him.' To the youth he cried out, ' Come down, dear grandson ; I am so sorry for you. I know how badly you have been treated by
your father.' The youth descends, and they cover him with blankets and
make him lie down by the fire and give him food to eat. Next morning
the grandson rises early and goes out to bathe in the stream. As he
leaves he sees his grandfather, Ska'kit, busily spinning the Spa'tzin grass
into rope, coils of which lay about the house. After some days had
elapsed, and he had recovered from the fatigues of his long journey, he
began to grow weary of doing nothing besides watching his grandfather
spin Spa'tzin into rope. So he said to his grandparents, ' Have you any
game in this country ? I should like to go hunting.' ' We always snare
our game here/ said the grandfather. * I never shoot, although I have an
arrow.' ' Give me yon arrow, grandfather, I am a great hunter and I will
shoot you lots of deer.' Ska'kit gave him the arrow, and thereafter he
went out hunting every day. One day, as he was leaving, he said to his
grandfather,' Why do you spin so much Spa'tzin ? You are always making
rope ; what do you want so much for ?' 'It is for your sake I spin so
much/ responded the Spider. ' I am going to help you get back to your
own country again.' Said the youth, 'I am happy here with you ; I don't
wish to leave you.' ' That is quite right and proper for you to desire to
stay with us,' said Ska'kit * ' but this is no country for you. For me it
does not matter much where I live. I can go where I want to. I can
just stick my thread on anywhere and climb up or down as I wish, or let
the wind carry me where it will. But you can't do this, you see, and you
ought to return to your eagle-wife and little son. They want you very
much, and are grieving over your absence. I shall soon have enough rope
now for my purpose.' The youth said no more, but the next time he went
out he plucked four hairs from the lower part of his abdomen and threw
them on the ground. Immediately three or four acres of the land adjoining the stream became covered with fine Spa'tzin grass. When he returned
home he asked his grandfather where he got his supplies of Spa'tzin from.
' Oh, we have to go a long way to get it/ answered he ; 'it does not grow
here about.' ' That's odd/ said the youth, ' I certainly thought I saw a
fine tract of it just beyond the stream. When you go down to the stream
next just see if I am not right.' Ska'kit went down to the stream shortly
after, and found the grass growing there as his grandson had said, and as
it was unusually fine and long he now soon finished his rope. When this
was done he bade his wife bring out the goat-hair blankets she had woven.
The grandmother fetched out four dozen of these. ' Now bring the dried
meat and fat/ said Ska'kit. And she brought out four dozen prime pieces.
He then told her to get the cradle-basket she had made for the occasion.
When all lay before the Spider he said, ' The pack will be too big; we
must make it smaller. Shut your eyes, both of you, and don't open them
till I tell you/    They did so.    He then closed his own, and waving his
1 Spa'tzin is the Asclepias or great milkweed, yielding a fibre grass from which
the natives of this region make all their tish-nets, lines, &c. It grows sometimes three
or four feet long, and is then highly prized. It has given the name to Spatzum Station
on the Canadian Pacific Railway. •^
60 REPORT—1899.
hand over the blankets and meat the four dozen of each was reduced
apparently to two dozen each. ' It is still too big/ said he. ' Shut your
eyes again and I will make it smaller still.' He did the same as before,
and the two dozen blankets and pieces of meat were reduced to the compass of two of each kind. ' Now/ said Spider to his grandson, ' I will
tell you what we intend to do. We are going to put you and your pack
in this cradle, and cover it iip and let you down through a hole by the
Spa'tzin ropes to your own country again. But you must be careful to
heed my instructions and do exactly what you are told, and then all will
go well with you. Between us and your country are three different zones
or lands through which you must pass to reach your own. The first of
these is the land where we now are. This is Cloudland. After that comes
Water-land. That is where the rain comes from. Next to that is Fog-
or Mist-land. After that comes the Earth,'your country. Now when we
let you down from this place, after you have descended some distance you
will feel the basket stop. . You must on no account get up or look about
you. Lie down in your basket and rock it from side to side. In a little
time you will break through the obstruction and descend again. This
will occur in your descent four times. Do as I have told you each time.
After the fourth stoppage you will find that you descend no more. Open
your basket then and get out, and you will find yourself in your own
country. When you get out pull the rope four times, and I shall th«jii
know you have landed all right, and we will pull up the basket again.
Now get into the basket and lie down, and we will cover you up. Take
this sword with you/ continued he, ' as a present' • and the grandfather
gave him a long stone sword. The youth now got into the basket, and
when they had covered him up the old man lifted up a large stone that
lay at the base of the ladder and disclosed a deep hole. Down this
Ska'kit and his wife, standing on either side of the hole, let the basket
containing N'tlikcu'mtum and bis presents by the Spa'tzin rope. When
the basket had descended about a half-score feet it stopped, being buoyed
up by the resistance of the wind that blew up through the hole. Finding
toe basket would not descend, notwithstanding the rocking of N'tlikcu'mtum, Ska'kit bade his wife stoop over the hole and make the basket
heavier. The old woman thereupon squatted down over the hole and
scratched her thigh and leg till the blood ran freely and dropped down
upon the basket cover, but before it reached the basket it was changed
into big flakes of snow. This so weighted the basket that it was able to
overcome the resistance of the wind and descend again. Ska'kit and his
wife now commenced to dance and sing as they lowered the basket. The
song was a repetition of the following term, tzuka'-thiQa, thus uttered :
tzuka'-thl-I-i-I-I-i-i-Qa, tzuka'-thl-I-i-I-I-M-i-Qa, &c.
In the meantime the youth experienced the stoppages his grandfather
had warned him of, and each time he felt the basket stop he rolled it from
side to side as he had been instructed. After the fourth time, finding the
basket remained stationary, he threw open the lid, and on looking out
found himself in a fine country. So he steps out and perceives that the
basket had landed on a large, flat stone, close by what is now known as
Lytton Creek.1 He now pulled the rope four times in succession, and the
basket is presently withdrawn to the upper regions again.    He now takes
1 The old Indians point out a stone near the creek which they believe is the
stone mentioned in the story. ON  THE ETHNOLOGICAL SURVEY  OF CANADA. 61
up his pack, but finds it and the big stone sword rather much to carry at
once. He decides to leave his sword there where he descended and get it
some other time. He thrusts it into the trunk of a tree that grew near
the spot to hide it, where, as the old Indians believe, it may be seen to
this day in the form of a peculiar knot that traverses the whole width of
the trunk. On looking about him he now seas tracks of many people, as
if a large party had passed that way. These he follows, and presently
perceives at some distance before him two old women who are swinging
fir branches from side to side of them as they proceed along. He wonders
why they are doing this, and on overtaking them questions them about it.
They tell him they do it to mark their sympathy for a very sad and disconsolate young widow who is a little way ahead of them. ' Why is she
so disconsolate ?' asks he. They answer : ' She mourns continually for
her young husband who has been evilly treated by his father, who sent
him into Cloudland, from which he cannot return.' ' Oh yes he can, and
has!' said he. 'I am the young woman's husband, and I have just
descended by the help of my grandfather, Ska'kit. Look at me and you
will see for yourselves.' ' We can't see you/ said the old women/
' Why 1' said he. ' Are you blind ?' ' No/ answered they, ' but we can't
see you.' ' Look on your right and tell me what you see there.' ' We
can see Cia'kiit' (Thompson River), said they. * Tell me now, what do
you see on your left/then demanded he. Said they, ' We see N'tokti'auk '
(Fraser River). ' Yes, you can see/said he. 'Now look at me again/
And with that he waved his hand before their eyes and became immediately visible to them, and they knew him. Then said he to them, ' You
did wrong to walk as you did ; I must punish you. But as you did it.
out of sympathy for my wife your punishment shall not be severe.' He
thereupon transformed them into maggots, and then proceeded to overtake
his first wife. As he approaches, his little son, who is sitting on his
mother's shoulder, looks back and sees him coming. He cries out,
' Papa ! papa !' This makes his mother's heart ache afresh, and she
chides him and bids him be quiet. But the child still cries out in a joyful
tone, ' Papa !' The mother gets angry and strikes the child with a stick
she is carrying in her hand. Still the child calls again,' Papa !' By this
time the father is at the mother's side, and takes her by the arm. She
does not look round to see who it is, but cries out in a sad, weary way,
' Oh, let me alone ! let me alone ! Why are you always worrying me ?'
' Look up/ said the husband ; ' I am your husband come back to you!'
Recognising his voice she looks up and embraces him warmly, and they
both cry for joy at meeting again. They sit down together, and the
father takes his son in his arms and plays with him. They have cried
and rubbed their faces so much that they are quite smeared and dirty.
To remove these stains he causes by his power a spring to bubble up
where they sat. At this they wash themselves. This spring is said to be
the one close by the trail that leads from Lytton to Britta'nl, a summer
resort of the Lytton tribe, about four or five miles north of the old camp
site, lying in a very beautiful little valley between the Thompson and the
Fraser. On this occasion it would appear the whole tribe had gone to
the valley. While they thus sat talking and enjoying each other's company the larger of the two maggots, into which the two old women had
been turned, passed by. They enjoin upon her strictly not to reveal his
presence to anyone in the camp. She is only to tell their slave, Little
Crow (CIoq'), to build their tent somewhat apart from the rest.   The slave 62 report—1899.
did as she was told, and aroused the other slave, Big Crow's (Ca'haQ)
curiosity. Ca'haQ was servant to the second wife, who now lived with
Snikia'p, her father-in-law.
N'tUkcu'mtum and his faithful wife did not come into camp till it was
dark, and no one was aware of the former's presence. After they had
retired Big Crow crept up to the tent to listen. Now the young wife
had been in the habit of crying and mourning every night for the loss of
her husband. Big Crow was aware of this, and wondered why the young
wife was not crying as usual. She peeped into the tent and noticed a
fine white blanket, which seemed to cover two persons. This further
roused her curiosity, and she ventured to enter the tent very softly. But
the woman heard her, and looked up and said, ' What do you want 1'
Ca'haQ answered : ' Oh, I came in to see how you were.' ' I am all right/
responded she in a happy tone of voice, wholly unlike her usual tones.
This the Crow noticed at once, and asked, ' Is anyone here with you tonight ?' ' What makes you ask that question 1' queried her mistress.
Answered Crow : 'To judge by the sound of your voice you seem much
happier than usual.' ' You are right, I am happier/ said the young wife ;
11 have reason to be. My husband has come back to me.' The slave now
began to cry for joy and sympathy. Said the young man, ' You must not
cry like that. Come here to me/ Ca'haQ went over to the young man's
side. The wife now asks her if she had had her supper, and, on finding
she had not, gave the slave a good supper from the meat her husband had
brought. The young man then said she might tell the people he had
returned, but they were not to disturb him by visiting or coming near
him that night. The Crow was delighted to be the bearer of such news,
and soon communicated the fact of the young man's arrival to all the
camp. Everybody expresses pleasure at the news, and they are all glad
and desirous of seeing him and hearing of his adventures ; but they
respect his wishes, and leave him alone with his faithful wife and child
for that night.
The father of the youth, among the rest, had heard of his son's return,
and early next morning came in crying and snivelling. The son took no
notice of him. That day he gave a great feast, to which everybody was
invited. After they had eaten their fill of the store of meat and fat he
had brought with him, he shared with them the blankets his grandmother had woven and packed up for him. He cut several in two so that
all might have a share. The next day he went on to Britta nl, and built
there a large camp. He was now made a chief, and became a great man
among them. One day, when he was out hunting with the others, the
desire came into his heart to punish Snikia'p, his father, for the deception
he had played upon him. Next day he said to his father and the others,
11 shall go out alone to hunt to-day/ They agreed, and he went off alone.
He presently shot a deer, and disembowelling it made a rope from the
guts. This he then transformed into a woollen rope. He now placed the
meat of the deer on his shoulders and returned towards home. When he
reached the stream that crossed his path he took half of the meat and
tied it with the rope he had made to a tree that overhung the brook.
The rest of the meat he took on with him. In the evening he informed
his father that he had left half of the deer's carcass suspended from a
tree by the brook, and that he desired him to go for it in the morning.
' All right/ said the father. Accordingly next morning Snikia'p set off
to bring the meat home.    As he left the son shouted out to him to be
very careful of the rope the meat was tied with, as he prized it very
much, and didn't want it lost or broken. The father promised to be very
careful of it. He had no difficulty in finding the meat, which he took
down from the tree and slung across his shoulders ; but as he was crossing the stream the rope broke, and the meat and rope fell into the water
together. The old man immediately jumped into the stream to secure the
rope. He did not care so much about the meat. ' I must not let the
rope be carried away/ said he, ' or my son will be grieved and angry/
So saying, he caught hold of it; but as he did so the current swept him off
his legs, and he was carried, rope and all, down the rushing stream to the
Thompson, and from thence into the Fraser and far down that river. He
was stopped at last by a barrier or weir, which wras built across the river
n»-ar its mouth. As he approached the weir he transformed himself into a
small smooth board. Now this weir was held by four witch sisters.1 As
Snikia'p floated towards the barrier in the form of a piece of wood, the
youngest of the sisters, who had gone to see if any drift wood had lodged
against the weir, observed the wood, which was about thirty inches long,
and thought it would do well for a dish, and straightway fished it out.
She took it home with her, and the next time they cooked a salmon she
laid it on the board. As they were eating it the fish seemed to last them
a very little while, and when it had all gone they were far from being
satisfied. ' I haven't had enough/ said one. ' I don't seem to have eaten
any/ said another. ' We will cook another fish/ said the third ; ' I can
eat some more myself.' So another salmon was cooked; but this disappeared as rapidly as the former one, and they are still feeling hungry.
Said the eldest of the sisters now, ' I think there is something wrong with
this dish. I shouldn't wonder if it isn't that Snikia'p that was drowned.'
' That can't be/ said one of the others. ' How could he turn into a piece
of wood 1' Oh, he is a very powerful wizard/ said the eldest. ' Let us
throw it away anyhow/ said another; ' throw it into the fire and burn it.'
This was done, and the seeming piece of wood began to burn. As soon
as the fire began to consume it the board began to cry like a child. This
affected the youngest sister, who wanted to save it from the fire. ' No,
no/ said the eldest; ' let it burn.' ' I want to save it * it must not burn/
declared the youngest. And she straightway took it out and washed it
and dressed its burns, which soon healed up. The piece of wood now
becomes a baby boy, who soon grows up and plays about the weir, and
observes all that the sisters do. One day, when he had grown to be a big
boy, the sisters all go for a walk, leaving him behind. Now they had
four boxes in the house, in which were stored the wind, the smoke, the
flies, and the wasps. These boxes had never been opened in the child's
presence, and he was curious to know what was in them, for he had been
forbidden to go near or touch them. On this occasion they warned him
not to touch the boxes; but when they had gone, his curiosity got the
better of him, and he opened the one containing the smoke, which came
out and nearly choked him.    The sisters are soon made aware of what
1 The story at this point seems to go over the same ground and be mixed up
with the storv of SkoS'qt-koatlt. In the story of the great hero Skoe'qt-koatlt it is
he who comes in contact with these four women, and with the help of his brothers
breaks their power and destroys the weir, letting the salmon up the river. However,
the detail of this is different from that recorded by me in the story of Skoe'qt-koatlt.
See the writer's paper on this fabulous hero in the Transactions of the English Folklore Society for the current year. 61 REPORT—1890.
has happened, and rush home quickly, and collect the smoke and return it
to the box, scolding him the while, and telling him not to be so disobedient
again. The boy pleaded forgetfulness, and promised to let the boxes
alone for the future. The women set out again on their walk. When
this boy, who had Snikia'p's soul within him, and Snikia'p's cunning
and experience, was left alone the second time, he went out and examined
the salmon-weir. He perceives that it prevents the salmon from getting
higher up the river. The sisters presently return, and he is called away for
that time. One day they say they are going out for the morning. The
boy says he wants to go too, but they tell him they cannot be bothered
with him ; he must stay at home and look after the place. As soon as
the women have gone, Snikia'p opens one of the ' medicine' boxes, and
the wind escapes and a gale arises. He then opens the other three boxes,
and lets their contents out also. He now proceeds to the centre of the
weir, and makes an opening in it through which the salmon swim up
river. The sisters soon perceive what has happened, and rush home.
They set to work to gather their scattered property, but can only secure
some of the smoke and flies. The wind gets away beyond their power to
recall, and they lose it entirely. Snikia'p now changes into an old man
again, and runs away, feeling happy and in good spirits. He has let the
salmon up the river, and the people above will be able to get them now.
There is only one drawbaek to his feelings of satisfaction—the smoke and
flies are troublesome, and the wasps are very annoying. However, he
goes up river, shouting and singing, and in good time gets back to the
camp at Britta'nI. As he enters the camp he shouts to the people to
come and see the salmon he has brought up the river. He does not
remain there, but goes up the river shouting to the people that he has
brought the salmon. By-and-by he gets tired, and wTalks quietly and
slowly. He picks some green branches and carries them over his shoulders.
As he passes the villages along the river he asks the people what they
would like to have. They answer, ■ We want some of the mountain-
sheep fat that grows on the neck and smells nice.' ' Can't give you
that/ replied Snikia'p. They then mention another rare luxury—the
back of a salmon. He declares they can have all they want of that, and
bids them go to the river, and they will find it full of salmon. He arrives
in time at Bridge River, where he makes a fall to stop the salmon from
going further by stepping to and fro across the river three times.
But he does not make the fall high enough, and many of the salmon
jump it and get up the river. From thence he goes up the North Fraser,
and brings the steep banks of the river together to form a cation, so that
the people there can more easily catch the salmon. He presently crosses
the river, and passes over into the Shuswap country. At this time he is
wearing a handsome buckskin shirt. He wanders all round the country,
and in time gets back to Lytton. No one recognises him when he returns,
he is so altered ; and he keeps up his disguise by speaking a strange
language and pretending ignorance of the N'tlaka'pamuQ tongue. The
people inquire among themselves who there is that is acquainted with the
other languages of the country. Someone says that Pu'IyauQ, an old
woman, knows several tongues besides her own. She is sent for to see if
she can hold converse with the stranger. She begins by speaking
Sk*quamie. Snikia'p shakes his head at this. She now tries him with
the Yale tongue. Again he shakes his head. She next tries Okanakan,
but with no better success.    Then Shuswap, then Lillooet, then Carrier ; 1
but he shakes his head at all. She knows no others, so the attempt at
communication fails. The people regard him as a great medicine-man,
and wonder if he will heal a sick woman they have among them. They
take him to the woman. He nods his head to indicate that he understands their wishes and will do as they desire. He builds a sweat-house
and puts the woman in it, and made to go in with her himself. Big Crow,
who has been observing all that took place, is suspicious of the man, and
when Snikia'p would have entered the sweat-house alone with the woman,
she called out to the others that he was an impostor; that no true
medicine-man would enter the sweat-house with his patient. But the
people are angry at Big Crow ; but she declares she is right, and that he
only wants to enter the sweat-house with the woman for evil purposes.
She gets angry because they side with the stranger against her, and she
takes a club and hits Snikia'p over the head with it. He screams out at
the attack, and everybody recognises the voice of Snikia'p, and discovers
that he has been trying to trick them. They fall upon him and beat him
well. He begs for mercy, declaring that if he did wrong in the past he
has also wrought much good for them by breaking down the witches'
barrier across the river and letting the salmon through, and by giving
them the cool wind which, since its escape from its prison, had blown up
river continuously. They presently allow his claim for mercy, and let
him off without further punishment. From this time the salmon came up
the river regularly, and the prevailing wind of the region is an up-current
breeze which keeps the air cool even in the hottest weather. These two
blessings the old Indians believe were due to Snikia'p the Coyote, whose
memory they keep alive by this and other stories of him and his doings.
Matq, or the Fire Myth.
Long, long ago the Indians on Fraser River had no knowledge of fire.
Beaver, who travelled about a good deal in the night prospecting the
rivers, learnt fi-om some source that away in the far north there lived a
tribe who knew how to make fire. He determined to seek out this tribe
and steal some of their fire and bring it back to the ' Stalo' {i.e., Lower
Fraser River) Indians. He told his brother Eagle to wait for him at a
certain point on the Fraser while he went down the river to the coast to
tell the people of the settlements along its banks that he was going to
steal the fire for them in the far north. When he reached the coast he
met a large tribe there. He begged from them the gift of a pair of clamshells in which to stow away the fire he should steal. They gave him the
shells and he then returned to his brother, and the two set out together
for the far north. ' You go through the air/ said Beaver to Eagle, ' and
I will travel by water.' They continued their journey in this way for
many days and nights, Beaver travelling by the Fraser. When they
arrived near the village of the people who possessed the fire, Beaver called
his brother to him and told him his plan of action. ' To-night/ said he,
' I will build a dam across the water, and then burrow from the dam along
under the ground until I come up under the house where the fire is kept.
They will spear me sooner or later, and take me to the village, but
although they will spear me they will not be able to kill me. In the
meantime I shall build myself a house in the river, and when they see it
they will come out and spear mo. When they have speared me they will
take me to the house where the tiro is kept to skin me.    T shall put the
ii 1 -9 66 report—1899.
clam shells inside my skin, and when the knife is nearly through to the
shell beneath I shall open my eye and you will see a great flash of light in
the sky. You must be close by, and when you see the flash you must fly
over the house and attract their attention. They will leave me for a
moment and run out to try and shoot you. When they are gone I shall
seize the opportunity and open my clam shell and fill it with fire. I shall
then clear away the soil from above the passage I have made from the
river to the house, rush down it, and come out in the deep water of the
river above the dam/
Eagle approved of the plan, and promised to do his share according to
his brother's instructions. All that night Beaver worked at his dam and
the passage. By morning all was ready. When one of the women went
down to the stream to fetch her water next morning she found to her
surprise a large lake where before was only a small stream. She dropped
her pail and ran home, and told the people that a beaver was in the stream.
Everybody rushed for his spear, and all made for the stream. Someone
suggested breaking the dam and catching him in that way. This they
did ; and when the water was getting low Beaver came out of his house
and swam about as if trying to get away. He played with them for a
little while before he would permit them to spear him. Finally they
speared him and carried him with great rejoicings to the house. Everybody now wanted his teeth, or his tail, or his claws. They presently set
about skinning him, but as the point of the knife touched the shell
hidden beneath the skin of his breast Beaver opened one eye. Now, the
boy who was holding his leg saw the action, and told the others, who only
laughed at him. Just at that moment Eagle, who had seen the signal,
came soaring over the house making a great noise, which diverted everybody's attention from Beaver. ' An eagle ! an eagle ! Shoot it ! kill it!'
shouted everybody, a*nd all ran for their bows and arrows except the boy
who was holding Beaver's leg.
This was the moment Beaver had planned for. Shaking himself free
from the boy's hold he took out his clam shells, quickly filled them with
fire, and before the boy had recovered from his astonishment plunged head
foremost down the passage hole and made for the river. The boy's cries
speedily brought the people to him, and he told them what had happened.
They now tried to dig out the hole down which Beaver had disappeared,
but they no sooner tried than the water rushed up and stopped them.
Beaver reached the stream safely, and from thence made his way to the
Fraser, where he was joined by his brother Eagle. As.they returned
down the river Beaver threw fire on all the trees they passed, but mostly
on the cottonwood trees, and thus it was that the wood from these trees
was the best for making fire with from that time onward. He continued
to do this till he had reached the coast again, and all his fire was gone. After
this he assumed a human form and taught the Indians how to make fire
by means of the drill worked between the hands. He also taught them
how to preserve the fire when once secured in the following manner. He
procured a quantity of the inner bark of the cedar tree and made it into a
ioog rope. This he then covered. with the bark of some other trees which
burnt less readily. When one end of this rope was lighted it would continue to smoulder for several days, according to the length of the rope.
When the Indians were travelling and likely to be away from camp several
days they always carried one of these lire ropes, called by themselves
Patla'k'm, coiled round their shoulders.
l)inMl,|,uiiil,piiju.lfl|lJ^i ON  THE  ETHNOLOGICAL SURVEY  OF  CANADA. 67
After this great gift to them the Indians thought very highly of
Beaver, and he was usually called by them ' our head brother' because of
his wisdom and goodness.
Painted Blanket Myth.
When Beaver had finished his instructions to the ' Stalo' Indians he
returned to the Thompson River, and hearing there that a young medicineman possessed a remarkable figured blanket which his father, a very great
and wise Shaman, had made for him, he determined to secure this treasure
for himself. Accordingly he and all the people of his village started off
to find the young Shaman's dwelling. After travelling a great way they
finally discovered his home, and having told him the object of their journey
was to see his wonderful blanket, begged to be allowed to look at it. But
this the young Shaman was unwilling to do, knowing they would take it
from him if they once saw it. Disappointed by his refusal to show it,
some of them determined to kill him, and afterwards steal and make off
with the blanket. Their designs were revealed to him in a dream by his
guardian spirit, and he resolved to outwit and punish them for their evil
intentions. Leaving his house he went and camped on the edge of a steep
precipice, taking with him the bladders of several animals he had lately
killed, and which he seems to have kept for the purpose. He also took
with him his snow-shoes. He wetted the bladders and blew them out and
secured their mouths. He had not been settled long when several of the
men came over to him with the intention of murdering him and then
securing his magic blanket for themselves. But he, knowing their intentions, was prepared for them. Taking his snow-shoes and the bladders of
wind, he placed them under his blanket in such a manner as to make them
appear like a dog at his side. He sat with his face towards the precipice,
between him and which there was but a narrow strip of ground. In the
dusk the edge of the precipice was not discernible. As the men
approached he cried out to them not to come too close to him, as his dog
was very savage and fierce. They therefore went and sat down some little
way from him, just on the edge of the precipice with their backs towards
it, and their faces towards him. As they seated themselves the young
Shaman shifted his seat so that he sat upon one of the bladders, from
which he now permitted the wind to escape in sudden jerks and gusts,
which made a noise like the angry growlings of a fierce dog. The men grew
alarmed ; the more so as he now pushed forward the toes of his snow-shoes,
which to them seemed the dog's fore-paws. At the same time the youth
cried out, ' Take care now, take care ! You have made my dog angry and
dangerous/ and at the same moment he pushed the snow-shoes farther
towards them. In their fear of the dog they "moved back a little, and the
young Shaman moved with them as if he were trying to restrain the dog.
Opening a second bladder, and pushing the snow-shoes again towards
them, the two things together caused them to retreat still farther until,
all unknown to themselves, they sat upon the very brink of the precipice. He now opened the third bladder, which made a horrible noise as
the wind escaped, and at the same time pushed forward the snow-shoes
again. Thinking to avoid the supposed dog they all moved backward, and
before they had realised their danger were over the brink and falling
headlong down the precipice, at the bottom of which they were dashed to
pieces. Thus did tho young Shaman outwit his would-be murderers and
robbers.    He now determined to run away and hide himself from tho
ii 4 -10
ii 08 REPORT—1890.
annoying curiosity of the rest of the tribe ; but before he had gone far
Beaver found his trail, and led the people after him. They overtook him
at nightfall, whereupon he climbed a high tree. 'Well/ said Beaver, 'he
cannot get away from us now. Let us camp round the tree, then when he
descends in the morning we will ask him again to show us his wonderful
They made their camp at the foot of the tree, and felt sure he could
not get away without their knowledge. But before the night was half
over the young Shaman called his magic powers into play and caused them
all to fall into a deep sleep. Beaver, who was watching, felt the sleep
stealing upon his senses, and resisted the spell for a long time ; but the
Shaman was too powerful for him, and he, like the rest, at length fell into
profound slumber. As soon as Beaver and his party were asleep, the
young Shaman descended from the tree and continued his flight. It was
late the next day before they all awoke from their magic sleep, and they
were scarcely surprised to find that the young man had gone. But Beaver
had no intention of being beaten in this way, and encouraged them to
take up the trail and follow him again. They travelled fast, and overtook
him just about nightfall. Again he hid himself in a high tree, and again
they encamped at its foot, determined not to give way to sleep this time.
But one by one they all dropped off to sleep, again being wholly unable to
resist the Shaman's power, with the exception of Beaver. This time he
was proof against the spell of the Shaman, who presently bes*an to
descend the tree. As he reached the ground he saw that Beaver was
wide awake and watching him. From this he perceived that he must
give way, as the medicine of Beaver was stronger than his own. He
therefore presented Beaver with the wonderful blanket, and went his way.
Beaver now carefully examined the blanket, and found it to be covered
with pictures of all kinds of utensils and weapons. These pictures represented the originals of all the articles used by the Indians, with the
exception of the fish spears which had been given to the Thompson Indians
by their culture hero, Benign Face.
Beaver now cut the blanket up into pieces according to the patterns
of the paintings upon it, so that each piece represented in outline the
form of some tool, or utensil, or weapon. From these patterns, under the
instruction of Beaver, the people are said to have made everything they
had in use in the way of weapons or tools when the whites first came in
contact with them. Throughout this adventure Beaver had worn a human
form, but after he had taught the Indians how to make useful things for
themselves from the patterns on the magic blanket, the young Shaman
transformed him into an animal, under which guise he is still recognised
by the wise Indians. Thus did the Shaman revenge himself upon his
adversary. But this act did not satisfy him for the loss of his blanket
and power ; he would revenge himself also upon the people for whose
sake Beaver had won the blanket from him. Up to this time they had
not returned home, but when Beaver was transformed into an animal
they began to think of doing so.
Koakoe'la, or llvshand root Myth.
They had, however, no sooner started than the young Shaman caused
them to become bewildered and lose their way and each other. They wandered about looking for the path and each other for days, and though they
allgot back eventually, with the exception of one woman, they suffered many
hardships by the way. This one woman could not find her way back, and
had to build a shelter in the woods and support herself upon roots and
berries as best she might. After she had lived some while in this lonely
state, as she could not get a man for a husband, she determined to take
for husband a certain kind of root. This root now goes by the name
Koakoe la, or ' fclusband-root.' By this root-husband she became the mother
of a male child. When the child had grown into a strong youth he one
day asked his mother where his father was. The woman was ashamed to
tell him what kind of a father he had had ; she dissembled therefore, and
told, him that his father had been drowned. On hearing this the youth
went to the river and reproached it for drowning his parent. The river
denied the charge, declaring that his father had not been drowned. Upon
hearing this he returned to his mother, and said, -Mother, you have
deceived me ; my father was not drowned. Why don't you tell me truly
where my father is?' The mother still prevaricated, and said, ' Your
father is dead, my son ; it is true he was not drowned ; he fell from a
lofty tree and was killed as he was trying to take a hawk's nest.' The
boy, to whom the language of ail nature was familiar, now reproached the
trees for the death of his father • but they one and all denied it. He
returned again a second time to his mother, and entreated her to tell him
the truth concerning his father, and where he wis. The request was too
embarrassing for his mother to comply with, so she put him off again by
declaring that his father had fallen over a precipice and broken his neck.
But when the youth taxed the precipice with the deed it indignantli
denied the charge. As he was returning home he found his feet catching
in a certain kind of root, which constantly tripped him up. As this had
never happened to him before he wondered what it meant. When he got
home he said to his mother, ' Mother, I s«-e you do not intend to satisfy
my longing to know who and where my father is ; you have deceived me
these three times. I shall not ask you again ; but, tell me, why does this
root trip me up all the time to-day when I walk in the woods ?' and he
held a root in his hand similar to that which his mother had taken for
husband. The mother turned away and would not answer him, though
she perceived that the knowledge he sought would soon be made known to
him. He now determined to prepare himself to become a Shaman. He
therefore left his mother and lived apart by himself, and fasted and exercised
his body till a Shaman's dream came to him, and with it great Shamauistic
power. In his dream he learnt also that he was the son of a root. This
knowledge made clear to him at once why his mother had sought to
deceive him about his father. He now determined to seek out the tribe
to which his mother belonged. In the course of his journey he came one
day upon a great concourse of people watching a game of ball. They
asked no questions of him as he joined the players ; but when he presently
struck one of his opponents' legs they got angry and mocked him, calling
him the ' son of a root/ and from this time forward he was known by the
name Koakoe'la *    He was so struck with shame at this taunt that he
1 For an account of this hero see my paper in the Journal of the English Folklc rj
Society. In this paper I have written the name thus, isfqaktktquarlt. After hearing
some half-dozen Indians pronounce it in my last visit, f believe it is best spelt as I
have here given it. Dr. Boas has written a short account of this hero in his
Indianische Sagen, Mr. Hartland informs me, in which he writes the name thus,
tfovqtllvotl. The name is not an easy one to wi ite in English, but there can be no
doubt that the word begins with a sibilant and ends with a dental in the mouth oi
a Lytton Indian.   My phonology is the same as that of Dr. Boas.
i i 70 REPORT—1899.
covered his face with his hands. Some of the people are sorry for him,
and try to cheer him up. But he cannot endure the thought of having
his birth thrown in his teeth every time any little disagreement occurs ;
so he goes away by himself again and undergoes a longer fast and training
than before. In course of time he becomes a very great and powerful
Shaman whom everybody fears and respects, and no one again ventures to
remind him of his ' Koakoe'la' descent. Some time after this he meets
the hero SQoe'qtkoatlt1 and his two brothers. Each endeavours to test the
other's powers ; but finding they are equally strong and invincible, they
desist from their efforts and become great friends. The Shaman youth, to
show his powers, made with his finger three small holes in the rock, and
caused them to become instantly filled with a savoury soup. He then
gave SQoe'qtkoatlt's two brothers a spoon each, and told them to eat the
soup. ' That is soon done/ said one of them ; ' it is but a spoonful.' ' Well,
try now/ said Koakoe'la, 'and see if you can eat it in a spoonful.'
Laughing, they both dipped their spoons in and emptied the holes at once,
but before they had swallowed the soup the holes were full again. And
this continued till each had taken as much as he could eat, yet the holes
remained full. SQoe'qtkoatlt, who understood the trick, looked onN and
smiled. When they could eat no more the Shaman laughed at them, and
bade them continue and persevere, and perhaps they would exhaust his
supply. They said they could eat no more. ' Oh yes you can/ said the
Shaman; and taking them in his arms, he shook them so well that on
being placed on their feet again they found they could eat some more. So
they attacked the holes of soup again ; but eat as much or as fast as they
would the holes always remained full. They presently confessed themselves beaten, and gave up the contest. ' Ah/ said the Shaman, ' you don't
know how to do it. It is quite simple. Watch me.' And dipping the
spoon in each hole, he emptied them in a moment. What happens to the .
Shaman after this my informant was unable to relate, and the story came
to an abrupt ending here.
This meeting of Koakoe'la and Enpatcl'tclt, or the three Bear brothers,
is said to have taken place at the Indian village of Nikai'ah, on the
Fraser, a little below the junction of this river with the Thompson ; and
the little holes said to have been made by him, as related above, are
pointed out in the rock by the Indians to this day.
Oi'tcut Story.
(She burns Herself.)
Once upon a time the Loon was a very great man in his village. He
had a very beautiful daughter whom he kept secluded in the privacy of
his keekwilee-house. She was permitted to leave the house only at night
or very early in the morning. Besides this beautiful daughter he had a
son into whose heart came one day evil thoughts towards his sister. One
night, when all were asleep, he crept to her bed and lay with her in her
sleep.    As he was about to leave her she awoke and found him at her
1 Dr. G. M. Dawson has given the name Kwil-l-eW. In his account of this hero
he records deeds performed by him which were done by his friend Skoe'qtkoatlt,
according to my informant, Chief Mischelle, of Lytton. Compare Dr. Dawson's
account in his 'Notes on the Shuswap People of British Columbia,' Trans. Roy.
Soo. Canada, 1801, with the writer's account of Skoe'qtkoatlt in Transactions of the
English Folklore Society for 181)1). ON  THE  ETHNOLOGICAL  SURVEY  OF  CANADA. 71
side. As the house was in darkness she could not tell who ho was, and
presently he stole away on her scolding him for his intrusion. When he
left her side she watched tho smoke-hole to see if he left the house, but
seeing no shadow against the sky she came to the conclusion that lie was
an inmate of the house. As there were several families in the same
keek wilee house it never entered her mind to suspect that the intruder
was her own brother. After a few weeks had elapsed the maiden found
herself with child. She was greatly distressed when she discovered her
condition, the more so as she knew not the man who had brought this
trouble and disgrace upon her. The least she could do before she told her
parents of her condition was to discover his name. Suspecting that he
would sooner or later pay her a second visit she resolved to lay a trap to
discover his identity. She thereupon begged from her mother some paint
of two colours, black and red. ' What do you want with paint ?' said the
mother ; • you cannot paint yourself.' ' I don't wish to paint myself/ replied
the girl. 41 need it for some other purpose/ and she teased and worried
her mother till she gave her what she wanted. Before retiring that night
she took some grease and mixed it with the paint, after which she covered
the insides of both of her hands with the mixture, red on one and black
on the other. Thus she awaited the next visit of her betrayer. Oue
night he stole again to her couch and lay with her again as she slept.
She awoke earlier this time, and before ho left her she endeavoured to
make him speak to her, so that she might discover his identity by the
sound of his voice ; but this he would not do. Finding he would not
thus betray himself, as he sought to leave her she made pretence to
detain him by putting her arms about him. While she held him thus for
a moment she impressed the palms of her paint-smeared hands firmly upon
his shoulders and left a clear imprint of them there in red and black. He
now left her, all unconscious of the tell-tale marks she had placed upon
him. ' In the morning/ said she to herself, ' I shall know him by the
pattern on his shoulders/
Now it was customary for Loon to call all the young men of his
household early in the morning to go out to swim, and exercise themselves
in various kinds of sports. After the youths had taken their swim in the
river they would paint themselves in fanciful designs, and then contend
together in racing and other exercises. On this particular morning the
girl begged so hard to be allowed to go out for once and see the
games that at last her mother consented. She bade her daughter put
on her best robes. This the girl did, and clothed herself in a beautiful
soft elk-hide dress, which was covered throughout with handsome bcad-
work. On presenting herself to the neighbours she was regarded with
much astonishment by all, but she took no notice of any of them, her
whole attention being given to .scanning the backs of the young men
before her. She passed them one by one in silent review before her, but
could discover on the shoulders of none of them the imprint of a pair
of human hands in red and black. She was puzzled, as she knew very well
that the paint could not be washed off in tho water. She never thought
to look at her brother until presently he ran close by her and exposed his
shoulders to her gaze. In a moment her eye caught the impression of
her hands in the red and black paint upon his back.
At first she would not believe her sight, but when she could doubt no
longer she gavo a shriek of pain, and putting her hands to her face cried
aloud  and  rocked  herself in  her distress and grief.     Tho bystanders 72 report—1899.
thought the brother had accidentally struck her in the face as he was passing, and cbided him for his carelessness ; but she said nothing, only sat
rocking herself and sobbing. Presently she got up and returned to the
house. All that day she cried and wept for the shame her brother
had brought upon her and her parents. That same night her brother
stole again to her couch. She was awake on this occasion, and repulsed
him, telling him she knew who he was, and upbraided him for his selfishness and the wrong he had done her. ' How do you know I am your
brother ?' said he. ' Your voice would tell me now if I did not know
before/ replied she ; 'but I discovered who you were this morning.' She
then told him what she had done on his last visit to her, and how she
discovered him that morning, and also the condition she was in. ' How
could you bring this shame upon our father 1' she continued. ' When the
people know they will point the finger of scorn at him, and he will be
dishonoured among them ; it will kill him with shame. There is but one
thing for us now to do. We must go away somewhere by ourselves and
never come back again, so that none may know the disgrace you have
brought upon us. Let us go away now at once before it is light and the
people are stirring.' To this the brother presently assented, and they
stole away in the dark together.
As the girl left her father's keekwilee-house she pulled off strips
of the bead-work of her dress, and as she went she hung bits of it on the
branches of the trees or on projecting points of rock every ten steps she
took. This she continued to do until she had stripped and hung up all
the bead-work on her robe. They had been journeying ten days before
this happened through the pathless forest. When she had hung the last
bit she stopped and said to her brother : ' We will stay here, we have gone
far enough now.' So they stopped there, and he built a house for them.
After a few months had passed the girl gave birth to a child, a fine,
healthy boy, who speedily grew up to be a strong youth. One day he
ran crying .to his mother, asking her why he had no grandmother or
grandfather. The poor mother's heart bled at the child's question, as she
told him all his relatives, save his father and herself, were dead. When
the lad had grown to be a sturdy youth the mother told the brother it
was time for them to make the final preparations. They had often
talked together in their loneliness, as the child was growing up, as to the
course they would pursue when he had grown to be a big boy, and he
now took his weapons and went out to hunt. This he continued to do
day after day until he had brought home enough skins of the mountain
sheep and goat for her to weave twelve large blankets from their wool,
and also lay by a nice store of dried meat and kidney-fat. When their
tasks were completed the mother called the lad to her and told him that
she had deceived him when she had said he had no other relatives but
herself and his father. 'Ten days'journey from here/ said she, ' lies the
village of my father and his tribe. You are now big enough to make the
journey thither alone, and we propose to send you to see your grandparents/ ' But why don't you come too ?' questioned the boy. The
mother found it difficult to satisfy him on this point, but he presently
consented to make the journey alone and come back and bring them
later. ' But how shall I find the way ?' said he. ' That will not be
difficult/ replied the mother ; and taking him %to the edge of the forest she
showed him a bit of bead-work hanging from the lower branch of a tree.
' You see this bead-work ?' said she.   ' Well, every ten paces on your way ON THE  ETHNOLOGICAL SURVEY  OF  CANADA. 16
you will find another piece. If you look out for these and follow the
course they mark, in ten days you will come to your grandfather's village.'
' But how shall I know my grandparents when I get there ?' queried the
youth. The mother answered : ' You have an uncle who has but one eye *
when you find him all will be well.' She then instructed him in many
things which only medicine-men know—how to make himself invisible,
and many other things. In the meantime his father had been busy
stacking a huge pile of pine-logs in the keekwilee-house. ' Why is father
stacking so much wood in the house ?' asked the boy. ' Winter is not
coming on. Why do you want so much wood now?' The mother
answered, ' Your father and I have a use for it, my son ; we have a great
task to perform when you have gone.' The boy was curious to know
what this was, but his mother would say no more. Everything being
ready the time now came for the boy to start. His mother made a pile
of the blankets she had woven, in which she wrapped a large supply of
their dried meat and fat, and told her son he was to take the blankets and
meat to his grandparents as a present. The youth put the bundle on his
shoulders, and though it was bulky and heavy he found no inconvenience
from it, as his mother had uttered ' medicine ' words over it, which made
it light and easy to carry. He now bade them good-bye and set out on
his long journey. His parents watched him go, and shed many tears as he
passed into the forest out of their sight. Then taking each other by the
hand they went back towards the house. ' Come, brother, our work is
nearly finished ; let us complete it/ said the woman. When they entered
the house they lit a fire at the base of the pile of pine-logs, and, climbing
upon the top together, they lay down side by side, hand in hand. In a
few moments the flames from the pitch enveloped them, and in a short
while the pile was consumed, and they with it.
Thus had they planned to wipe out the disgrace which had darkened
their lives.
In the meantime the son of the unhappy pair had been making his
way through the forest as his mother had directed him ; when, coming
to an eminence and disregarding his mother's injunctions not to look
back after he had once started, he cast his eyes in the direction of his
home, and was startled and shocked to see flames and smoke coming from
the roof of the house. Casting down his bundle without a moment's
consideration, he ran back upon his trail as fast as his legs could carry
him but he only arrived in time to see the roof fall in. The heat was
too great for him to go near the ruins ; he could only watch the flames
consume the last timbers of his home. He wondered what had become
of his parents, and feared they had been destroyed in the fire. Presently
he groped his way among the charred remains, and saw enough to convince him that his parents had perished. He could not understand it all,
and sat crying all that day and the following night. During the night
he had a dream which revealed to him many things. He learnt why his
parents had left their home, and the punishment they had planned for
themselves, and that they had deliberately burnt themselves to death in
expiation of his father's offence. Very sad at heart he turned his back
next morning upon the ashes of his parents and old home, and once more
set out on his journey. Finding his pack, he continued his way through
the forest, following the guiding strips of bead-work, until at last he
arrived at the village of his grandfather. He now recalled what his
mother had told him about his one-eyed uncle, and looked about for such 74 report—1899.
a person. He saw presently a little old man before him, and as he
approached him he deemed it wise to make himself invisible for the time.
He now saw that the little old fellow was shooting on the ground with
his arrows. He saw too that he had but one eye, and wishing to test
whether he was his uncle or not he placed his foot on the spot at which
the little man was shooting, and caught one of his arrows between his
first and second toes. When the little fellow went to get his arrows he
could not draw this one away, as the youth held it tight between his toes.
He now spoke to the little man, who was much frightened at the sound
of a voice so near him when he could see no one. The youth told him
not to fear ; that it was his ' medicine' that prevented him from seeing
who he was. Making inquiries he soon discovered that his grandparents
were still alive, and that the little man before him was his uncle. When
he told him that he was his nephew he would not believe it. To prove
to the uncle that what he said was true, he asked him if he could remember how his* lost sister used to speak. 'Oh yes/ said he ; 'I can
remember quite well.' 'Was it like this?' said the youth, and he imitated
his mother's voice. ' Yes, yes !' said the uncle, ' that is her voice.'
' Now look at me/ said the nephew, ' and tell me if I am like your sister
or brother/ And as he spoke he made passes in the air with his left hand,
and became immediately visible to his uncle, who knew him at once to be
really his nephew from his likeness to his lost brother and sister. The
lad then told the little man the story of his mother's and father's life, and
the reason of their mysterious departure from the village, and bade him
go to tell his grandmother privately that he had come. ' But she will not
believe me/ said the uncle, ' and will be angry with me for trying to fool
her/ ' Stay, then/ said the youth; ' I will give ,you some proofs of my
presence to show her, and then she will not doubt you. Tell me, what is
the matter with your eye V 'I am blind in it; I was born so/ replied
the little uncle. ' Well/ answered the youth, ■ I will give you sight in it
with my *' power," and you can then show it to my grandmother if she
doubts your word.' With that the nephew passed his hand over his
uncle's eye four times, and the latter's blind eye was made whole, and he
saw with it for the first time in his life. Full of wonder and admiration
for his nephew's power, he ran off to tell his mother. When he first
whispered the tidings in her ear she was angry with him for attempting
to fool her, as she thought, but when he showed her his blind eye restored
she could no longer disbelieve him. Immediately she ran out to find her
daughter's son, and was much delighted to find so comely a youth claiming
her as his grandmother. When she questioned him concerning his parents
he repeated to her the story of their lives as he had told his uncle, and as
it had been revealed to him after their death. The old woman weptl as
she listened to the tragic end of her children. When the grandfather
was made aware of his grandson's arrival, and had also heard the account
of his lost children's death, he called all the village together and informed
them of the youth's arrival and the events which led to his parents'
voluntary death. Meantime the old lady bade the girls clean up the
house and strew clean fir branches on the floor in honour of her grandson's
coming. When he entered the house he undid his pack and presented
his grandmother with his parents' presents.    The old woman spread out
1 My informant told me that this story would alwa\s make the women and girls
weep whenever they heard it related.    It is one of their favourite stories.
pipirfr^pg^^yjiwp.ji.|i. -"---■•.: ,„,,r^-,.-?r,T;,jtmmn -r^~~-:- m j --«™-■^*wy^■^»!^|4t|.!t''g*»jW-»*) ON THE ETHNOLOGICAL SURVEY OF CANADA.
the twelve beautiful blankets, and set the meat and fat ready at hand for
the feast which the chief now proclaimed. The whole village now came
together to see the youth and the presents he had brought his grandparents. During the feast the story of his mother's and father's life was
retold again, and their sad end drew tears from all the women present.
At the close of the feast the grandmother told her neighbours that they
would see her grandson no more, as she intended to keep him secluded as
she had his mother; which thing she did, and the lad never left the
keekwilee-house except at night when all the village was asleep, or early
in the morning before they had arisen.1
Now it had happened that when the people had been invited to the
feast two old witch-women had been overlooked, as their dwelling was
somewhat apart from the others ; and when they heard later of the occurrence they were angry, the more particularly as they were very curious
to see the boy. They determined to be revenged for the slight, and to
see the youth at the same time whose advent had been a nine days'
wonder in the village. So one day they took some human ordure, and
mixing it with earth fashioned it in the form of birds. By their witch-
power they then transformed these clay effigies into real live birds of
beautiful and attractive plumage. They had not long completed their
task when the little uncle chanced to come that way, and seeing the
pretty strange birds he much desired to secure them for himself. Having
his bow and arrows with him he tried to shoot them. He struck them
again and again, but could not kill them. The most that he did was to
knock a few feathers out of them. ' Ah !' said he to himself, ' I wish
my nephew were here ; he would be able to kill them all right.' And so
saying he gathered up the brilliant feathers to take home to show him
and his mother. Calling his mothers attention to the beauty of the
feathers, and telling her of his ill success with his shooting, he begged her
to let his nephew come out for a little while to shoot the birds for him.
The old mother would not at first hear of it, but on the nephew himself
expressing an earnest wish to go out with his uncle to secure the birds,
she presently gave way, and permitted the two to go off' together. The
youth easily shot and killed the birds. To carry them home he put them
inside the breast of his shirt next his skin. While the shooting had been
going on the two spiteful old witch-women had taken a good look at him,
and so won their desire.
As they were returning home the youth complained of an unpleasant
odour. ' What is this nasty smell ?' said he. 'Where can it come from ?
Have you not stepped on something nasty, uncle 1' But as he spoke he
felt something wet and cold against his skin under his shirt. Pulling
open his shirt, he saw inside, where a few moments before he had placed
the beautiful birds, now neither birds nor feathers, but the nasty material
from which they had been made by the witches. Perceiving he had been
tricked, and horribly disgusted, he cast his garments aside and plunged
into the river to cleanse himself, bidding his uncle at the same time fetch
him some clean garments. After he had washed himself and put on clean
clothes, he felt so mortified and ashamed that he determined to leave the
spot and go and live by himself in the woods.    He informed his uncle of
1 This curious habit of seclusion seems from the stories to have been quite a
common custom. Instances occur again and again, particularly in the families of
chiefs. h
76 report—1899.
his intention, and invited him to accompany him. The little man, who
had grown very fond of his nephew, was only too delighted to go with
him, and so they set out together. They lived alone in the forest for
several years, till the youth had come to mature manhood, when a restless
spirit came over him. At last he said to his uncle, ' I am going to look
for a wife for myself. I know of two beautiful women in Cloudland. I
s tall go and get them for wives.' He thereupon shot a large mountain
eagle, and carefully skinning it, he dried and prepared the skin, leaving
the feathers and wings on. When he had finished it he put it on himself
and attempted to fly. As he mounted into the air his uncle cried out to
him not to fly away and leave him all alone. ' Don't be afraid, little uncle/
answered he * 'I am not going away yet. I am only practising.' When
he had practised enough he returned to his uncle again, who begged hi
not to fly off and leave him.    ' Very well/ answered the young man, ' I
can take you with me, but only on one condition.    You must promise to
keep your eyes shut tight all the time we are in the air.1    If you open
them we shall fall to the ground/   The uncle readily gave the promise.
The nephew then took him in his arms and soared aloft with him.    They
had not, however, gone far when the uncle felt a great curiosity to see
what it looked like down on the earth, and forgetting his promise opened
his eyes.     Immediately they descended rapidly to the ground.     'O
uncle, you broke your promise, I know,' said the nephew; 'you must have
opened your eyes.    Now if you do that we can never get up.'   The little
man was very sorry, and promised not to open his eyes again.    They
started a second time, but they had not got very far up before the desire i
to open his eyes was too strong for the uncle to resist.    As soon as he *
opened them they returned to the ground as before.    The nephew, finding
he could not trust his uncle, told him he must leave him behind.   ' But/
said he, ' I will change you into whatever animal or bird you would like
to be while I am away.'   The little man thought for a moment, and then
said he would prefer to be a little duck and sport in the lake.   The nephew
thereupon turned him into a little red-eyed duck.    ' When will you return
to me, nephew ?' asked the uncle.    * When you see the clouds in the sky
get very red you will know I am coming.    That shall be my sign/ replied
the nephew.    Having thus disposed of his uncle he now flew off.    The
little duck watched him till he could see him no longer, and then began
to disport himself after the manner of his kind in the water.    Meanwhile
the nephew flew into the clouds, and after some little time came to a
small island there.    Alighting on a tree, he stood for a moment to survey
the prospect.    At no great distance from him he perceived a house out of
which a beautiful young woman was now coming.    He watched her as
she made her way to a lake at the foot of the tree on which he was
resting.    On nearing the lake the maiden cast aside the beautiful robe
she was wearing, and which resembled the dress of a magpie, and stood
naked, all unconscious that a man's gaze was upon her.    She approached
the lake and was about to plunge in for a swim when she caught sight of
the reflection in the water below her of the eagle in the tree above her
head.    In a moment she was overcome with shame, and knew that the
seeming eagle was really a man in disguise who had looked unhindered
upon her nakedness.    Immediately she drew her long hair about her and
1 The shutting of the eyes during prayers and the performance of Shamanistic
tricks, incantations, and such like seem to have been regarded by the N'tlaka'pamuQ,
at least, as essential to the success or eflicacy of the act. J I
crouched down in confusion on the edge of the bank. The youth looked
on, but uttered no word. Presently the maid cast her eyes upward
towards him, and addressed him in these words : ' I know that you are
not a bird, but a man disguised as one. You have looked upon me in my
nakedness and brought shame upon me.1 I must now become your wife.
But I have a sister; you must see her too/ and with that she sprang
towards her dress, drew it hastily about her, and rushed home. On
arriving there she threw herself on her bed, sobbing and crying, and
would make no reply to her sister when she sought to learn the cause of
her trouble and grief. Finding it vain to attempt to get an answer to
her queries, she took the water-bucket in her hand and went off to the
lake to get some water, and to see if she could discover why her sister
had returned so quickly, and what had caused her trouble. She was
robed as a kingfisher is robed, and on getting near the lake she also threw
off her dress and made to plunge into the water to bathe, but was likewise
arrested in the act of doing so by the image of the eagle in the water
beneath her. But, unlike her sister, she was not overcome with shame
at being caught naked.2 She addressed the disguised young man thus :
' Oh, now I see what is the matter with my young sister. Well, she must
be your wife now; but not she only, you must also marry me. Come
down from the tree and cast aside your disguise/ The young man descended from the tree, cast off his eagle skin, and hung it upon a branch
close by. Meanwhile, the woman had put her robe on again and filled
her pail with water. Together they walked to the sisters' house, and he
became husband to them both. He lived thus with them for some time,
and each of his wives gave birth to a son. They were now five in all,
and one day the young man said to his two wives, ' We are getting too
many for this small place; let us return to Earth again and go back to
my old grandfather, the Loon.' The wives consenting, he once more
donned his eagle-skin, and taking a wife under each arm, and a child tied
to each of his legs, he descended thus from the Cloud Island.
While he had been absent the little duck uncle had each day watched
for signs of his nephew's return. One day he was gladdened by seeing
many red clouds in the sky. ' Now/ said he to himself, ** I shall see my
nephew once more.' He kept his little red eyes on the clouds, and
presently saw his nephew approaching the spot where he was. In a few
moments more he alighted, and presented his wives to his uncle. ' Now/
said he, ' will you come home with us V But the little uncle felt a pain
at his heart, for he had perceived that his nephew's affections were no
longer his own as in the former days. He now had children and wives to
love and care for. So the little man answered, 'No, nephew ; I will
remain here.    You do not need me any longer ; you have your wives and
1 I have already pointed out in my remarks on the social customs of the N'tlaka'pamuQ that the girls of tht* tribe were very shy of being seen in a disrobed condition, being much confused and shamed if caught naked. The words pur into the
mouth of this **iri in the Cloud Island seem to suggest, that she lay undtr some sort
of obligation to become the young stranger's wife since he had looked upon her
nakedness, whether she would or no. I could, however, gather no confirmation of
this idea, but in the story of Ha'nni's wife, p. 83 we have a similar case. Here, too, the
girl who is surprised while bathing goes off and becomes the wife of the chief of
the Salmon who surprised her. In this case it may be that she was carried off and
could not help herself.
- It would seem that the second sister was elderly, and had outgrown her
hash fulness. Ti
78 report—1899.
children now.' 'Very well/ replied the nephew, 'do just as you like.'
So the uncle remained on the lalce as a duck, and became the progenitor
of all the little red-eyed ducks now in the country.
Bidding the uncle good-bye, the young man took his wives and
children, and directed his way to his grandfather's village. When they
arrived there was great rejoicing once more. The old Loon and his wife
were still alive, and encouraged their grandson to settle down with them.
This he did, and his descendants in course of time became a great and
powerful tribe.
Snii'ya c'pitahb;.tl, or Beaver Story.
A long time ago Beaver lived all alone in his keekwilee-house just
below the village of Spuzzum. He had two sisters, the Mouse and the
Bush-rat. They lived together at Swimp, and the Frog lived with them.
Both sisters had several children. One day Snii'ya got out his canoe
and crossed the river to Spuzzum late in the evening. He wrent on
to Swimp and visited the house of his sisters. When Snii'ya saw the
Frog, whose arms from the elbows to the wrists were adorned with
bracelets, he admired her much. She came and sat down by the fire,
holding herself so that her bracelets might be easily seen. Snii'ya
presently tells his sisters that he would like the Frog for his wife He
sat at the fire till it had burnt itself out and all was in darkness.
The others had all retired earlier. When it is dark Snii'ya crawls ove r
to the Frog's sleeping place and pulls her blanket. ' What do you want 1
Who are you ?' said the Frog. Snii'ya says nothing but pulls the
Frog's foot. The Frog cries cut again, ' Who are you, and what do you
want ?' Snii'ya now reveals himself, and the Frog says again, ' What do
you want 1' 'I want you to become my wife/ said he. The only
answer the Frog gave was to lift her foot and kick Snii'ya in the face.
He does not mind this in the least; he simply falls on his back and
laughs. He pulls her by the foot a second time, and she kicks him away
again. Again Snii'ya laughs and tells her he does not mind her kicking,
and intends to make her his wife. The Frog now remarks that she does not
desire him for her husband. ' You are not the kind of man I want/ said
she. ' Do you think I like a round, big-bellied, big-headed creature like
you for husband ?' Snii'ya only laughs at this. This makes the Frog
angry, and she begins to revile him in bitter language. Still Snii'ya
does not mind. But presently, finding he can make no impression upon
her, he gave up his efforts and left her, and went over to his sister the
Mouse, and told her to take her children and go with them to the hill
near by. ' There is a cave there/ said he ; 'it will hold you all nicely.'
He then goes to his other sister, the Bush-rat, and bids her do the same.
The Mouse sister now wishes to know why she should go in the night.
* Would not the morning do ?' said she. Snii'ya tells her that the Frog
has shamed and scorned and insulted him. Bush-rat then asks what ho
is going to do when they are gone. ' Oh,' said he, ' I am going to have
some fun all to myself, and I don't want you to be present.' This is all
they can get from him. However, they both get up, roll up their blankets
and mats, and leave him alone with the Frog-woman. The Frog has not
spoken a word while this conversation was going on. As soon as his
sisters and their families have gone Snii'ya begins to dance and
whistle. When he whistles the Frog gets very angry, calling him many
objectionable  names,  and  bidding  him go and  leave  her  to sleep  in
V 0^
U '
peace. Snii'ya pays no attention whatever to her, but continues to
whistle and dance more vigorously than ever. It was a rain-song that he
was whistling called tlazmlfi'qtcin.1 'tlaz-pe-e-e-e-e-e-e-e'-iiq-tcin/ 'tlaz-pe-
e-e-e-e-e-e-e'-uq-tcin/ tlaz-pe-e-e-e-e-e-e-e'-iiq-tcin/ sang Snii'ya, and presently the rain began to fall gently. But as the song continued and Snii'ya
danced faster and faster it fell harder and harder until it descended in
sheets, no such rain ever having been seen before. In a short time the
creek near the house began to rise and roll the rock about with a
thunderous noise. Soon the water overflows and spreads itself everywhere. It enters the keekwilee-house, and soon Snii'ya is swimming
about and beating time to his song with his tail on the water. The
Frog's bed begins to get wet : she gets up and raises it higher. In a little
while the wrater is up to it again. A second time she raises it. But now
Snii'ya knocks a hole in the wall with his tail, and the flood pours in upon
them. Snii'ya now swims home across the river. The day now begins to
break. He gets into his canoe and paddles merrily away, still whistling
the Bain Song. In the meantime the Frog is floating about on her bed-
board, and is carried to the mouth of the creek, calling aloud for help.
She presently perceives Snii'ya paddling by in his canoe, and calls out to
him to come and save her, telling him she will take him for husband.
To all her entreaties Snii'ya replies, ' What do you want ?' and whistles
away. The Frog implores him to bring his canoe over and save her.
' Oh, come and take me into your canoe and I will be your wife/ cried
she. Snii'ya answers back, ' Use your own stomach for a boat. I'll not
trouble myself about you.' The Frog still continues to beseech him to
deliver her, calling him by all the endearing terms she can utter. The
eddies whirl her about and greatly alarm her. Snii'ya now begins to
mock her. ' Oh, you could not be my wife. You surely could not marry
a round-headed, big-bellied, short-legged, flat-tailed creature like me/
said he, repeating the ill names she had so disdainfully called him by a
little time before. The current soon carries her past him out into the
great Fraser, down which she floats till she comes to a spot about four or
five miles above Yale called Nii'ksakoum. Thus did Snii'ya revenge
himself upon the disdainful Frog for refusing to accept him as her
Story of Snikia'p, Qai'non, Tzala's, and Spate.2
Once upon a time Snikia'p, Qai'non, Tzala's, and Spate lived in the
same locality, each in his own keekwilee-house. Snikia'p being one day
without any food in his house, bethought him that it wrould be a good
time to pay a neighbourly visit to the house of Qai'non. On reaching
Qai'non's keekwilee-house he looked down the smoke hole and accosted
him. Qai'non replied in a friendly manner, and bade his visitor come in.
Snikia'p clambered down. Said he, as he took a seat near the fire, ' I
was feeling very lonesome this morning, and thought I should like to
come over and have a neighbourly chat with you.'    ' I am truly delighted
1 It will be seen that I have spelt this term first with an * m * and afterwards in
the song with a* p.' I have done this purposely. In the title my informant distinctly uttered the * m/ but in repeating the word in the song he as distinctly chane*ed
it into a ' p.' This is an interesting instance of the interchange of these two letters
in the mouth of the same person. With the N'tlaka'pamuQ ■ p' frequently takes tho
place of the ' in ' seen in the other divisions of the Salish.
j. ■ Snikia'p = Coyote ; Qai'non - Magpie; Tzala's = Diver; Spate = Black Boar. 80 REPORT—1899.
to see you/ responded Qai'non ; ' I am always glad to see a friend drop in
for a chat. Snikia'p now began to look about him, and perceived that the
house was well stocked with lots of dried deer-flesh. Presently, after
they had chatted awhile, Qai'non said, ' You must have some dinner
before you go away.' Looking towards his stores of dried meat, he said,
' I can't offer you this dried stuff; I should like you to have some fresh
meat. Just stay a moment, and let me run out to ray deer-trap and see
if there is anything in it. I ought to find a deer there/ And with that
Qai'non hastened to go to the trap. Snikia'p, as soon as he had gone out,
climbed up the notched pole and observed with much curiosity and
interest Qai'non go towards his deer-trap, which was not far from the
house. He saw him pause there a moment to inspect the trap, which
held no deer, and then pass on to the wood beyond. Presently a big
buck sprang up in Qai'non's path. The deer took no notice of Qai'non,
who now began to revile it in insulting language. At first the buck paid
no attention to the remarks of Qai'non, but presently his language became
so bad that he grew angry and ran at Qai'non to punish him. This was
just what Qai'non wanted, and as the angry deer approached him he
turned and ran towards the snare, keeping just a few feet in front of his
pursuer. When he was close to the trap he opened his wings and shot
through the opening in a twinkling. The deer, not perceiving the snare,
blindly followed, and was caught by the noose, and thus fell a victim to
Qai'non's cunning. Qai'non now took his knife and cut the deer's throat
to bleed him. He then quickly skinned him, cut off a large piece of the
meat, and returned to the house with it. ' Ah/ said Snikia'p, when
Qai'non came near, ' I see you hunt your game just as I do. I always
catch my deer that way.' Qai'non was surprised to hear Snikia'p say
this, being under the impression that he himself was the only person who
hunted in this way. He said nothing, however, but hastened to cook
some of the venison. When the food was ready Snikia'p ate very
heartily, being very hungry, but could not eat all that had been prepared.
Wishing very much to take some home with him, he said to Qai'non :
' I think I will borrow your mat and take home some of this cooked meat
for my supper ; it will save me cooking to-night.' The other was quite
willing, and readily loaned him the mat. Snikia'p wrapped up all that
was left from their meal, and now took his departure, saying as he went,
'You must come and pay me a visit soon, and then you can get the mat.1
I like to have a visit from my friends.' The day following Qai'non
thought he would return Snikia'p's visit. Approaching his house, he
shouted down the smoke-hole, ' Good day, friend ; I have taken you at
your word, and am come to have a little chat with you.' ' Oh, come in,
dear friend/ said unctuous Snikia'p, ' I am truly delighted to see you.'
But even as he spoke he felt in his heart that he would much rather his
visitor had remained at home ; and he wondered what he should do for a
dinner, having nothing in the house However, he put on an air of
welcome, and entertained his visitor till dinner-time came. Said he then
to Qai'non, ' It is time I was looking after the dinner; you must stay
and eat some with me.'    To this Qai non agreed rather more readily than
1 The mat here referred to was that off which they had been eating their dinner.
In the olden days the Indians of this district always made use of mats for tablecloths. One or more of them was sprout on the ground, and the food set out upon
them.   They were made  from  reeds and swamp grasses, and were one of  the
»t articles of native furniture.
U f^
Snikia'p desired. ' I must get you some fresh meat/ he continued. ' I
will run out and see if there is a deer in my trap/ Snikia'p now went
out and looked at his deer-trap, which he had constructed after the plan
of Qai'non's. There was nothing in it. He had not really expected to
find anything, but he knew Qai'non was observing him, so he followed
the course he had seen Qai'non do. He now went into the wood, and
presently, to his surprise, came upon a fine buck. The buck looked
scornfully at him for a moment, but otherwise took no notice of him.
Snikia'p, remembering what Qai'non had done, began to call the buck ill
names. For some time the buck ignored his presence, but presently his
language became too bad, and the deer ran at him with antlers down to
punish him. Snikia'p turned tail, and ran as fast as his legs would
carry him in the direction of his trap, with the buck close behind him.
When he got close to the trap he made a leap to go through, as he had
seen Qai'non do, but he failed in his attempt, and stuck fast in the
middle, being unable to get through or go back. The infuriated buck
now took his revenge, and prodded poor Snikia'p with his sharp antlers
in his rear. Snikia'p howled with agony, and called upon Qai'non to
relieve and help him. Qai'non now came forward, killed the deer, and
relieved Snikia'p from the snare. ' You should not hunt in this way/
said he* to poor crestfallen Snikia'p ; ' you do not understand the trick.
I would advise you to stick to your own mode of hunting, and not copy
anybody else's.' Qai'non now cooked some of the deer for them, and
after the meal bade his friend good-day, and returned to his own house.
It took Snikia'p some time to recover from the wounds inflicted upon him
by the angry deer ; but by the time he had consumed the remains of the
deer's carcase he was able to get about again. Having met with no luck
in his hunting, and being very hungry, he said to himself one day, ' I
think I will go and see Tzala's to-day ; maybe I can get a dinner from
him. He set off on his visit, and presently came to Tzala's' house.
' Good day, neighbour Tzala's ; how are you feeling to-day ?' said he, as
he looked down the smoke hole. ' Is that you, friend Snikia p ?' said
Tzala's very cordially. ' Come down and have a chat.' Snikia'p descended. Says he, ' I was feeling lonely this morning, and thought I
would come over and see how you were getting on, and have a friendly
chat with you.' ' I am very glad you came/ amiably responded Tzala's,
and they chatted away together till dinner-time. Tzala's now said,
- You must have some dinner before you go ; but I can't let you eat this
dried fish,1 and he pointed to the stores of dry fish that hung in abun-
* dance from the rafters pf his house. ' I'll just run out for a minute, and
see if I can't find some fresh fish in my traps/ Tzala's thus saying, went
down to the river, which was at the time covered with a thick sheet of
ice. Every here and there, however, small openings appeared in the ice.
Pausing for a moment on the bank of the river over one of these Tzala's
took a long breath, dived downwards, and shot through the hole. He
reappeared in a short time with a long string of fine fish. Snikia'p had
observed the action, and as Tzala's tteturned, remarked, ' I see you catch
your fish as I do. I always dive for them that way myself.' ' Oh,
indeed/ said Tzala's the Diver ; ' I was not aware of that. I thought I
was the only one who fished in that way.'    Tzala's said no more, but
•"The rule* of Indian hospitality deminlel that a guest should be given the best
food procurable.
h4—11 82 REPORT—1S99.
speedily prepared the fish. Snikia'p ate very heartily, but some of the
fish were left over. These he coveted for himself. Said he presently,
' If you will lend me the mat, I think I will take a bit of this fish home for
my supper with me ; it will save me cooking to-night/ Tzala's made no
objection, and Snikia'p bundled the whole up in the mat, and then bade
his friend good bye. ' You must come and see me shortly/ said he as he
left; 'I like my friends to pay me a visit sometimes.' Tzala's promised
to make an early call.
Next day Tzala's determined to redeem his promise and pay Snikia'p
a visit and bring home his mat. When he arrived at Snikia'p's house
Snikia'p was a little surprised to see him appear so soon, and was not too
well pleased ; but he made pretence to be overjoyed at his visit, and did his
best to entertain his visitor till dinner-time came. Seeing that Tzala's
was intending to stay to dinner, he thought he must do something to
prepare it. So he presently observed, -You will stay and have some
dinner with me. I was just going down to the river to look at my traps
when you came. I'll just run down now and see what is in them/ So
saying he ran down to the river's edge. Tzala's watched him go, and
looked on with some curiosity. When Snikia'p got to the river he stood
a moment on the bank as he had seen Tzala's the Diver do, then took a
deep breath and plunged headforemost into the nearest vent-hole. But
he had miscalculated once more, the hole was not big enough to let his
body through. The force of his plunge had carried his head and shoulders
through, but then he had stuck fast and could now neither get up nor
down. He was thus in serious danger of drowning, and wriggled and
tw'isted his body frantically to free himself. Had not Tzala's been looking;
on and seen the dilemma into which he had got himself, and hastened
down and released him, he would assuredly have been drowned. When
the good-natured Diver had got him out of the hole and had bound up
the cuts he had received in his struggles, he expostulated wTith him for
attempting to copy him in his methods of fishing. ' It's all very well for
me to dive down through the ice—it's my trade; but you should not
attempt any such a thing. You will surely get into trouble some day if
you interfere with other people's business.' So saying he plunged into
the river and presently returned with a string of fine fish. These he then
cooked, and together they made a hearty meal. After dinner he took his
mat and returned to his own house. The fish that were left over lasted
Snikia'p for some little time, after which he was again without food for
days, and was very hungry. This time he bethought him he would pay
Spate the Bear a visit. Reaching Spate's house he accosted him as he
had the others, and was invited in by the Bear, who presently, when
dinner-time came, brought out some berries in a dish and put them down
before the fire. He then washed his fore-paws, sat down close to the fire,
and held them over the dish close to the flame. In a little while the
Bear's claws began to drip with liquid fat, which he caught in the dish
containing the berries. When he had thus secured what he thought a
sufficient quantity of fat he set the dish between himself and Snikia'p, and
together they made a hearty meal. They did not eat it all, however, and
Snikia'p said he would take what was left home with him if Spate would
lend him the dish. To this the Bear agreed, and also promised to pay
Snikia'p a visit at his house very shortly. Now, while Spate had been
drawing the fat from his paws, Snikia'p looked on for a moment and then
observed that he was in the habit of getting his grease in the same way. i**5*J»f"
1      '
Spate looked as if he did not believe him, but said nothing. Snikia'p
presently took his leave, carrying the remains of their dinner home with
him in the Bear's dish. The very next day Spate took it into his head to
return Snikia'p's visit and get back his dish. So just before dinner-time
he dropped in on Snikia'p. The latter made a great show of welcoming
him, and presently, when dinner-time came, got up to get the dinner.
Having no berries, he put the empty dish before the fire as he had seen
Spate do, then washed his paws, and, seating himself before the fire, held
them towards the flames. In a very little while the heat began to try
him and his paws began to smart ; but he would not let Spate see it, and
continued to hold them before the fire. Presently the pain made him
groan and writhe. '* What is the matter ?' said Spate, who had been
closely observing him Answered Snikia'p, 'The grease does not run
freely this morning, and I feel the heat a little.' ' You do not put them
close enough to the fire/ replied Spate. Snikia'p put his paws still closer
to the tire, and kept them there till the pain made him howl with agony.
Spate, in the meantime, smiled grimly, and when Snikia'p would have
given up he grasped his paws in his own and held them before the fire till
poor Snikia'p's flesh was burnt and his muscles drawn and twisted by the
great heat, saying as he did so, ' Let mb hold your paws for you, dear
friend.' When he thought Snikia'p had been sufficiently punished for his
humbugging and insincerity he let him go, and picking up his dish went
off home, leaving Snikia'p in a sad and disabled condition. It was some
time before his paws healed up, and even then they were not as before.
The cords and muscles had been so severely scorched that they remained
contracted, and he could never again stretch out his paws as before.
Thus was Snikia'p the impostor punished by Spate, and thus it is that
the Coyote's paws are contracted and bent to this very day.
Story of Ha'nnts Wife and the Revenge of her Son.
A long time ago there lived at Trk*umtcln (Lytton) a chief wrho had
an only daughter who was very beautiful. The girl led a very secluded life,
never being permitted to mix with the other girls or leave the house
except at night. The maid gets very tired of this dreary kind of life, and
one day begs her mother to allow her to go out and bathe in the river.
The mother at length consents to her going. She chooses a secluded spot
on the river's bank, disrobes there, and enters the water and swims about.
As she was thus engaged the young men of the Salmon tribe came up the
river. They came with the intention of seeking her in marriage, so
renowned had she become on account of her beauty. Four of her salmon
suitors came up in their canoe. Three of these were named respectively
Kole'ya (spring salmon), Swaas ('Sockeye' salmon), and Ha'nni (humpback salmon). They happened to land just where the girl was bathing.
At first she did not see them, but presently, when they had landed and
she was about to come out of the water, she caught sight of them. Being
naked, she feels abashed and ashamed, and sits down in the water to hide
her person, and asks them to give her her clothes. The salmon reply that
they have come to take her away. They give her the clothes and take her
away with them to the coast without further ceremony. They cast lots
whose wife of them she shall be, and Ha'nni the Humpback salmon gets
her. She becomes his wife, and a son is born to them. In the meantime
:he parents and friends of the girl make diligent search and inquiries for
iier everywhere, but can hear nothing of her.    They suppose she has been
\_ 81 REPORT—1899
drowned. The following year the Humpback Salmon husband, accompanied by all the other fish, canoed up the riv*-r to the girl's old homo at 1
Lytton. As they neared the place two little river fish, the tcoktef and
the ni'nEktcin, hastened on before and told the parents that their daughter
was returning with the Coast fish. Everybody is delighted to hear the
news, and the people paint their faces white and red to show their joy.
T}ie news of her arrival soon spreads far and wide, and the people of Nicola
heard of it among the rest. Now at this place there were many notable
men. Four of these, named respectively Kdi'Ekin (Wolverine), N'Qoeni'ken
(Badger ?), Qua'kqoc (Marten), and Tcltc'q (Weasel), determined to go
down to Lytton and carry the girl off. They arrived during the night.
When they got there a great gambling bout was going on in the keekwilee-
house of the father of the girl. All the Fish people were there, as well as
the chief's own friends. A big fire had been built to light up the house,
that everybody might watch the game. The large crowd of people and
the big fire made the house very warm. The daughter begins to feel the
heat very trying. Presently she can stand it no longer, and asks to be
allowed to go out and get some fresh air. She is permitted to pass, and
climbs the. notched pole that led through the smoke-hole. The four
Nicola men are just outside, and have observed all that took place. They
see the girl climbing the pole below them, and when her head appears at
the opening Tcitcq the Weasel makes a jump, and passes through her
mouth into her stomach. The girl is unconscious of what has taken
place, she only suddenly feels sick. When her head is out of the smoke-
hole Qua'kqoc the Marten leaps into her mouth and passes into her
stomach. The girl at this feels as if she were half dead, and hastens to
get outside. But when she is partly out NQoeni ken the Badger makes a
leap, and passes also into her stomach. She is fainting now as she steps
out from the hole ; and when Koi'lEkin the Wolverine follows his fellows
and jumps into her stomach she falls down dead. A little later, when
the others come out, they find her lying dead on the ground. Everybody
is in great distress, and the greatest medicine-man of the district is called
in to see if he can restore her to life again. He performs a great dance,
but all to no purpose. The young woman remains dead. Other medicinemen now try their skill, but with no better success. They desist from
their efforts to restore her, and next day they bury her. The party now
breaks up, everybody being very sad. The Salmon and Coast fish return
home again. The night following, the Nicola chiefs, who had caused her
death in the way related, now restore her to life, and return with her to
their own country. Here the young woman lives with them. In course
of time a rumour of her presence among the Nicola tribe reaches her own
people. Word is sent all round to all the camps and to all the Fish
people of the coast. A meeting is convened at which war is declared by
the Fish tribe against the Nicola people, who are all members of the
Animal tribe. All the Coast fish, with Ho'atl the Sturgeon at their head,
swarm up the Fraser to Nicola. In such numbers did they come that
the upper river was too narrow and confined to hold them all. A fierce
battle now takes place between the Fish of the Coast and the Animals of
Nicola. The Animals came in from all parts to help their friends at
Nicola, and after a bloody conflict the Fish are beaten, and great numbers of
them are killed. Those that escaped from the fight are followed by the
victorious Animals, and not one of them, except the mighty armoured
Sturgeon,  escapes  to get back  to the coast again.     Even  the great fijssf--  " —mm
Sturgeon is often hard pressed, and obliged to use strategy to get away
from his pursuers. It is to his efforts to thus escape that the winds and
turns and angles in the Fraser are due. He caused them to appear when
his pursuers were getting too near and embarrassing him.
When the Sturgeon chief gets back to the coast, the son of the
captured woman is much grieved to hear of the disaster which has befallen his
tribe, and he determines to avenge the slaughter of his friends when older.
He thereupon undergoes a course of discipline and exercise to fit himself
to become a powerful medicine man. In course of time he acquires great
power. He now determined to take his revenge upon the Nicola men.
He goes up the river, and in time gets to Nicola. When he arrives he
goes to where his mother is. She does not recognise him in the tall and
handsome man before her. The people are much surprised at the visit of
the stranger, but treat him hospitably. They inquire from what direction
he comes. He answers : 'From below/ The Grizzly, the Black-bear,
the Badger, the Wolverine, the Weasel, the Wolf, and the Coyote suggest
that they shall hold a great dance and test their medicine powers against
that of the stranger. He agrees, and that same night a great medicine
dance is held. They first let the fire out, and then they began the
contest, one by one. The Black-bear opens the dance, but he is a failure.
The others follow in due order, but none of them is able to do anything
very wonderful till Snikia'p the Coyote comes forward. Snikia'p has
power over the north wind, and can summon it at his will. When he
begins to dance the wind begins to rise. As he proceeds and his dancing
quickens, the wind increases in force and volume, till presently the very
ladder is shaking and the snow is falling fast. This dance is considered
a great success by his companions. When he stops, the wind and snows
stop too. It is now the stranger's turn. Before he begins he goes to his
mother and tells her she must go outside. She leaves the keekwilee-house.
As soon as she is gone he begins his dance, singing as he dances a fire
song : • o'l, o'l, 6'I, o'l/ &c. (stem of term ' fire/ as seen in the word d'iyip -
to burn). Sparks now began to fly about, and presently sheets of flame
appear, and in a short time the house is on fire, and everyone is much
frightened. The stranger stops and utters the word Aho'sa, and the fire
disappears. Snikia'p now dances a second time, and again the cold north
wind and the snow appear. Ha'nnt's son exhibits his power again in like
manner, and is followed a third time by Snikia'p. The young man now
finds that he has the strongest medicine, and prepares to carry out his
scheme of revenge. He commences to dance a third time. This time he
sings his fire song louder, and dances more rapidly. Soon the flames
spread everywhere. They burn the house and the people, and when
everything is well on fire he gives a great jump, and leaps out through
the smoke-hole. Everybody is destroyed by the fire, and the slaughter
of his tribe is thus avenged. He now returns to the coast, taking his
mother back with him.
The N'tlaka'pamuQ Indians account for the presence of the fish in the
rivers up country by saying that when the Nicola Animals killed the
Coast Fish the spawn of inanj of the latter was left in the streams, which
later developed into fish. One of the effects, though, of the great licking
the Fish got is seen, they believe, in the form of the descendants of some
of them. For instance, the flat-headed river-cod is said to have inherited
his flat head from his ancestor, who was killed by a great blow, which
knocked his head flat. 86 report—1899.
General Remarks.
A consideration of the foregoing folk-tales brings out many points of
interest. It will be seen, for instance, that the number 4 is an oft-
recurring number. It is undoubtedly the sacred mystic number of the
Salish stock, as we find it holding an equally predominant place in the
myths and stories of the Bella Coola tribe on the coast, between whom
and the N'tlaka'pamuQ there has been no intercourse from time immemorial. I am unable at present to say how far it is common to the
mythology of the other tribal divisions of this stock ; but finding it in
these two widely divergent branches separated by impassable physical
barriers, we may fairly conclude that it is common to the whole. Our
knowledge of the mythology of the other great divisions of the Salish is
not yec very extensive if we except that of the Bella Coola recently pub
lished by Dr. Boas ; and it will be interesting and profitable to gather
collections similar to these from all the other divisions. Whether all the
tribes of the Salish have such a store of folk tales, or are as imaginative as
the N'tlaka'pamuQ, I am unable to say. That they possess more, or have
more active and lively imaginations, I much doubt, for it seems scarcely
possible to find a people more highly imaginative than the folk-lore of the
N'tlaka'pamuQ shows them to be, or rather to have been. There is not a
single, peculiar feature of the landscape which has not its own story
attached to it. There is no conspicuous object of any kind within their
borders but has some myth connected with it. The boulders on the hillsides, the benches of the rivers, the falls, the caiions and the turns of the
Frazer, the mud slides, the bare, precipitous cliffs, the sand bars, the
bubbling spring and the running brook, the very utensils they use, all
have a history of their own in the lore of this tribe. Every single peculiarity in bird, or beast, or fish is fully and, to them, satisfactorily
accounted for in their stories. The flat head of the river cod, the topknot of the blue jay, the bent claws and dingy brown colour of the coyote,
the flippers of the seal, the red head of the woodpecker, and a host of
other characteristics, all have their explanation in story.
Some of the tales here recorded are extremely valuable to us in the
glimpses they afford of the past and, for the most part, forgotten life,
customs, thoughts, and beliefs of this people. The intense repugnance in
which they held incestuous intercourse, the deep shame and disgrace that
followed a lapse from virtue in the unmarried of both sexes, and the
seripus and damaging reflections it cast upon the parents, are portrayed in
the somewhat pathetic story of the sister who was wronged by her own
brother. The pains she took, and the lonely exile she bore to shield her
father's name from dishonour, and finally her own and her guilty brother's
self-destruction, all make this abundantly clear. Whether this story has
any foundation in fact, or whether it was told merely to inculcate virtue
and a hatred of incest, is quite immaterial. That it showed and embodied
the feelings of the people on this head is perfectly clear, and that is the
point which is of interest to us. The praise and enjoinment of virtue,
self-discipline, and abstinence in young men is no less clearly brought out,
while the respect and consideration paid by the young to the elders of the
family and tribe is an equally conspicuous virtue. In no other way could
we learn these things. The folk-tales alone can now recall the vanished
past for us. Hence their high value in ethnological inquiry, and the importance of bringing them together and recording them while there is yet
opportunity.    The pictures which these tales reveal to us of the ancient ON THE ETHNOLOGICAL SURVEY OF CANADA.
life and condition of these village communities is that of a rude and
simple, but virtuous people, living at peace among themselves under the
mild patriarchal sway of their local chiefs, who were assisted in their
government by the elders of the tribe. We find them skilful and resourceful in the adaptation of means to ends, exhibiting at times remarkable
ingenuity—as witness their skill in basketry ; hardy and successful
hunters, preferring peace to war, but ready and prepared to defend their
homes and property when called upon to do so. The picture makes their
lives stand out in strong contrast to those of their congeners on the
coast, whose totemic and clan system, secret societies, ceremonial dances,
and other peculiar institutions find no counterpart here at all. If we
admit the principle that the simpler the life and institutions of a people
are, the nearer they are to their primitive original condition, we learn
from a consideration of these stories that the manners and customs and
life of the coast Salish have been much modified since the separation of
the stock into its present divisions. This, it may be pointed out, incidentally confirms what Dr. Boas and other investigators have called attention to in their writings.
It may be of interest to add here that a body of mythological matter,
collected by Mr. James Tait, of Spence's Bridge, B.C., from the upper
N'tlaka'pamuQ, has recently been published by the American Folk-lore
Society. I have not yet seen this, but I have no doubt a comparison of
the two will bring out many points of interest.
Marriage Customs of the Yale Tribe.
The following account of the marriage customs of the Yale tribe of the
Salish stock of B.C. was given to the writer by chief Mischelle, of Lytton,
whose father was a Yale Indian. These customs have been much modified
of late years. Some of the Indians are now married, after the manner of
the whites, by the priest or minister, some few retain the old customs,
and others unite the church service with the customs of their forefathers,
and thus go through what is practically a double marriage.
Formerly, when a young man wished to marry a girl he went to the
house of her father at daybreak and squatted down just inside the door
with his blanket so wrapped about him that only his face was visible.
When the father rose he perceived the young man there, but passed by
him without taking any notice of Im presence. All the oth^r members of
the household did the same. They prepared the morning meal, sat down
to it, and still continued to ignore the young man's presence, who, as soon
as the meal was finished, quietly left the house without speaking. The
members of the girl's family make no comment upon the occurrence. The
following morning the young man enters the house and squats down a^ain
by the door. After breakfast he departs still without speaking. After
his departure on this second occasion the father of the girl calls the family
and relatives together and discusses with them the eligibility of the suitor.
If acceptable to the family, when he presents himself next morning he is
invited to breakfast, and knows thereby that his suit is accepted. After
the meal is over, without in any way referring to the object of his visits,
he leaves the house, and in the course of a day or two sends a message to
the girl's father saying that he intends paying him a formal visit. The
girl's people make preparation to receive him and the friends who accompany him. Accordingly at the time appointed, in company with his
friends, who all, as well as himself, bring gifts and food to the girl's father,
he makes his formal call, and presents the gifts of himself and friends.
I SS ' REPORT—1899.
When these nave been received they sit down to a feast to which all the
friends and relatives of both parties have been invited. After the feast is
over the bridegroom takes his bride and departs with her to his own
house. When two or three weeks have intervened, the wife's relations
send word that they are coming to pay the young couple a visit of
ceremony. The young wife forth with prepares a feast for them, and all
the young man's friends and relatives turn up again, together with those
of the wife. Presents of value equal to those given by the bridegroom
and his friends are now presented to him by the wife's father and friends,
after which all sit down to the feast prepared for the occasion. When
this is over, the marriage is regarded as consummated, and the two are
man and wife in the eyes of the whole community.
But, on the other hand, should the suitor not be agreeable to the girl's
parents, the eldest male member of the girl's family is appointed to
acquaint the youth on his third visit that his advances are not acceptable
to the family, and that he had better discontinue his visits. On the third
morning, therefore, when the young man presents himself and squats
down in the customary place, the old man chosen for the office of messenger goes over and informs him that the decision of the family is against
him, and that he had better seek a wife elsewhere. If the young
man's affections have not been very deeply engaged, he will accept his
dismissal and trouble them no more ; but if, on the contrary, he has set
bis heart on getting this particular girl for his wife, he will now
go to the forest and cut down a quantity of firewood. He choses for this
the best alder-wood he can find, as this is more highly esteemed than other
kinds among the Indians on account of its emitting no sparks when burning. This he will take to the house of the girl's father next morning at
daybreak, and start a fire for the inmates. If the girl's parents are serious
in their rejection of him as their daughter's husband, they will take both
tire and wood and throw them out of the house. The youth is in no wise
daunted by this, and repeats his action on the following morning, when
they again reject bis service?, and cast out the wood and fire as before.
But during that day, seeing his determination to get the girl for his wife,
her people call another family council, at which the father points out to
those assembled the young man's perseverance and earnestness, and asks
for their advice under the circumstances. They all answer that he must
do what he thinks right and fitting. If the objection to the young man's
suit has come perchance from the mother of the girl—as it frequently
does if she thinks the youth will not make a good food supplier for her
daughter—the father asks her what she now thinks about the matter.
She will probably reply that if they refuse any longer to accede to the
young man's wishes they will give him pain, so she withdraws her opposition. The girl is then for the first time in the ceremony consulted in the
matter, but as her desires are mostly what her parents wish, she rarely
dissents from the arrangement. The matter thus being satisfactorily
settled, the next morning, when.the persevering youth presents himself
with his wood and builds a tire, some of the elder members of the family
come and sit round and warm their hands over it By this action the
vouth knows that his suit is at last accepted, and that his perseverance is
not to grt unrewarded. He presently joins them at the morning meal, and
the conclusion of the affair from that moment follows the course already
described where the suitor was at the outset accepted.
Spottistvoode <J Co. Printers, New-street Square, London. 1


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