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Life in Alaska.

LETTERS OV

MRS. EUGENE S. WILLARD.

EDITED BY HER SISTER,

RS. EVA McCLINTOCK,

PHILADELPHIA :

PRESHYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION,

,334 CHESTNUT Si'REET.

1 ' - .-■.'>

" *. --^

■•J.,) U9 -^

IIIK TIUISTEKS OH IIIK

PRF.SBYTERIAN HOARD OF I'U.HMCATION

AIL Kicirrs Ki-.si-.RyiiD.

Westcott & Thomson,
Stereotypgrs and Electroty(>ers, Philatia.

Life in Alaska

-Mmmmmmmmm^mr^^

SHELDON JACKSON, D.D.,

Alaska's Chiff Missionart,

ITS MISSIONARIES' CHIEF FRIEND,
THESE LETTERS ARE (JRATEEULLY DEniCATKIJ
^y THE ^UTHOR,

INTRODUCTION.

THE world is often tempted to think
that the age of faith has passed away.
In the midst of the greed of money-mak-
ing-, the rivalries of social display and the
selfishness of pleasure-seeking, even the
Church herself is almost surprised at high
heroic sacrifice for the cause of Christ and
the salvation of men. Perhaps this may
partially account for the pleased surprise
with which many have perused these let-
ters as they have come fresh from the
front of missionary operations on the re-
mote borders of our own land. But as
the great Head of the Church is " the same
yesterday, to-day and for ever," so his he-
roic spirit of sacrifice springs to life eter-
nally beautiful in the heirs of his grace.
Surely, in nothing is the spirit of our

6 /A'/'A'ODl/('//(>X.

blessed Master more clearly evinced than
in flyin<r on the wings of love to the abodes
of wretchedness and ministering that mer-
cy of which it- has been truly said,

" It clroppoth as the gciilli; rain fii»m heaven
Upon the place beneath. It is twice idessed :
It blesscth him that gives and liim tliat takes."

The letters which form this little collec-
tion were written with no thought of pub-
lication, but they have so touched the
hearts of all who have read them as to
secure a warm personal interest in the
writer and a private circulation quite un-
usual in correspondence so modest. So
stimulating has been their influence in
praying circles and mission bands that
many have expressed the desire to have
them in a more permanent form, and to
see them launched on a career of wider
usefulness.

If in some cases these letters are found to
be fragmentary, let it be remembered that
they were written in scraps of time snatched
from a life of more than usual care and
weariness, sometimes in the rnidst of great

/N'JKODUCrfOX. 7

excitement, sometimes in the midst of the
most vexatious interruptions. Their pow-
er is largely due to their ardess simplicity,
but they furnish unconscious pi' ures of
the homely necessities generallv mcident
to the missionary's lot. Th' > throb widi
the loyalty of Christian devotion and are
redolent with the perfume of native re-
finement and womanly grace. As we read
on, our hearts are touched, our sympathies
are enlisted, criticism is disarmed and pre-
judices melt away ; we are in no mood to
demand the felicities of an elaborate rhet-
oric, and we are quite content that the
Christian wife and mother shall tell the
story of her loving service in her own

way.

The very circumstances of the case for-
bid that the writer of these letters should
now give her personal care to their re-
vision. The collection and the publica-
tion of these "voices of the heart" have
been the work, not of their author, but
of others, who have gladly assumed not
only the labor, but also the responsibility,
of this litde venture.

Wll«0i»i|l»jjfli,uj''

.jLlii

INTRODUCTION.

The desire to know something of a
writer's personaUty is very natural to all
readers, and yet delicacy forbids that we
should say much of the living. Mrs. Wil-
lard was born in Nev/ Castle, Pennsylvania,
May 3, 1853. Her maiden-name was Car-
oline McCoy White. Very early in life she
showed a decided disposition for missionary
work, formed a missionary society of little
girls and delighted in reading the stories
of missionary labors and trials. In her
eleventh year she had a protracted sick-
ness, during which all hope of recovery
was given up by her friends, and by her-
self all desire to live. In this condition
she lay waiting and longing day by day
to depart and be with Christ, but after
being, to all appearance, dead, she re-
vived and rapidly recovered. The assur-
ance, given to her by her parents, that
the Lord must have work for her to do,
reconciled her to life, and while yet too
weak to visit her companions she ad-
dressed them with letters on the subject
of religion. When she was sufficiendy
recovered to be carried into the church,

INTRODUCTION.

she publicly made a prolvjssion of her faith
in Christ.

Owing to delicate health, her education
was not so full and varied as her parents
desired, but she was fond of reading and
acquired much valuable information whilst
receiving a sweet and gentle culture under
the sheltering, fostering care of a refined
Christian home. Having a taste and a
talent for drawing and painting, she early
began to take lessons under the instruc-
tion of a teacher in her native place. Her
art-studies were afterward pursued in the
academy at Cincinnati, Ohio, in the Na-
tional Academy, in New York, and later
still she took lessons in portrait-painting
in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.

In September, 1874, she became the
teacher in drawing and painting in the
IJniied Presbyterian College, at Mon-
movth, Illinois, where she spent two years.
In Mrs. Willard's graphic, picturesque style
many will detect one of the fruits of her
artistic studies.

On the 24th of April, 1879, she was
married to Mr. Eugene S. Willard, and

'-'^iSiltJmiitxtiiiUXi-.-.

\Mi^oiii>tii^tli&)rffr-

liXTRODUCTION.

in the summer of the same year she ac-
cepted, with her husband, a position as
missionary teacher in Alaska under the
Board of Home Missions of the Presby-
terian Church. Of her subsequent expe-
riences in trial and triumph, in joy and
sorrow, the following letters may best tell.
They are not published as detailing any-
thing peculiar in missionary experience—
for many others, doubtless, are called to
pass through similar trials — but because
they set forth, with a graphic power rare-
ly surpassed, the daily-recurring scenes in
those " dark places of the earth " that are
" full of the habitations of cruelty."

G. N.

ILLUSTRATIONS.

Mrs. Willari) and Daughter Carrik .... Frontispiece.
Prksbytkrian Church and McFarland Home, Fort

Wrangki.l, Ar.AsKA 23

Carvkij Imi'lemknts 37

Carved Imim.kments 41

CHH.CAT lUSKETS AND IIoRN .Sl'OON 45

Haines 51

Interior of ". Chilcat House 54

Map of Chilcat Mission 99

Chilcat Man 103

Chilcat Mother and Child going to Church . . . 147
Chilcat Woman Sewing, with her Bark leaning

against the Wali 151

' An Alaskan Snow-storm 175

Mai' of South-eastern Alaska 191

CiiANNi'.i.s in South-eastern Alaska 203

Chilcat Man in Native Costume, with Wooden

Hai', Stone Mortar and Carved Staff .... 253

Totem Dish of Cinnamon Hear or Hoots Tribe, with

Table Mat 256

1 2 /A L VS Th'A 770 NS.

Chilcat Shawl made from the Wool ok the Wild
Mountain Goat, and Covered with TtrrEMie

Emulems 257

Medicine-Men Graves 259

Sitka IIaruor 265

Main Street, Sitka 269

Sheldon Jackson Instiiute Huildinc 271

Alaska Mountain Scenery 291

rnmrn

Life in Alaska.

vSheldon Jackson Institute,

Sitka, Alaska, June 21, i88r.

Y DEAR PARENTS : You will be
surprised that we are still in this
place, when by our last letter you heard
that we were to sail in a few days for
Chilcat, and it is difficult for the moment
to go back and see things as you see
them and know exactly w/ia^ to tell you,
vhen so much more than is possible to
tell in this slow way comes crowding upon
the mind. We were under orders to stop
cither at Fort Wrangell or Sitka for a
month ; so we came on to Sitka, and
were brought to the hospitable home of Mr.
Alonzo E. Austin and his family, who are
in charge of the mission here. We have
found them most devoted and worthy peo-

LIFE IN ALASKA.

W-

pie, who warmly took us to their hearts
and home.

On Friday last the steam-launch of the
United States ship Jamestown returned
from the mines with the word that there
was war in Chilcat ; that two men had
been killed and several wounded, all on
one side ; that fighting would go on until
they were even ; that the steamer Favorite
would bring further word, and, if neces-
sary, a squad of United States marines
would be detached for duty there.

The Favorite came in on Monday with
word that the fighting was still hot. Eight
had been killed — three men of rank on
one side, for whom many more lives on
the other side were demanded. The trou-
ble began through drunkenness, they hav-
ing procured a barrel of molasses for Jioo-
chinoof^' Commander Henry Glass, of the
U. S. S. Jamestown (and a book would
hardly suffice to tell of the good work he
has done here in the last year), waited on
us to say that we could not possibly accom-
plish anything by going up there now ; he

* An intoxicating liquor made by the natives from molasses.

i M

LIFE IN ALASKA.

wished to have no more compHcations, and
he much desired to have us quietly wait in
this place till Dr. Sheldon Jackson should
arrive.

This morning the soldiers left for Chil-
cat. The head-chief was away at the be-
ginning of the trouble, and it is said that
he expresses himself as so much grieved
and disgusted that he wished to come to
Sitka to remain until -it is settled, lest Cap-
tain Glass should hold him responsible for
the difficulty. The Indians here expressed
great sorrow about it. We are waiting
now for Dr. Jackson, by the next steamer,
who is going to bring with him the lum-
ber and materials for our building. In the
mean time, our hearts and hands are full
and we are praying.

Mr. Willard preached to the whites last
Sabbath. Yesterday he helped to put in
potatoes for the boys' school which Mr.
Austin has started, and which I must tell
you more about at another time. He has
made a very nice bedstead, and expects to
make quite a number of things in the way
of furniture before we start. As there is

LIFE IN ALASKA.

no minister here, he will fill the place while
we remain.

June 2Ji., — Mr. Willard officiated at the
funeral of the wife of Chief Anahootz this
morning, as the chief consented to have a
Christian burial. It was a very sad death.
Captain Glass had forbidden the making
or <;elllng of hoochinoo, and appointed this
chief and several other Indians as police-
men ; so that the town is not at all as it
used to be, but much more orderly. On
last Sabbath several Indians clubbed to-
gether and bought a gallon of gin and
alcohol and drank until this one of the
party died ; her body was carried home
amid great excitement. They hold the
one whom they detailed to carry the whis-
ky to them responsible for the death, and
will not tell who sold the stuff, except that
it was a white man.

It is the custom of the Alaskans to com-
pel the murderer to stay beside the corpse
until it is finally disposed of; then, in a
council, they decide how many " blankets "
he shall pay. If he fails to pay the price,
he is killed. Captain Glass heard the case

LIFE IN ALASKA.

on Monday, and allowed them to carry out
their custom so far as having the Indian
Charley stay with the corpse, but said that
he would decide what penalty each should
pay. This morning Charley heard that
they (the Indians) were going to ask a
great many blankets — more than he could
possibly pay — and said that he would kill
himself: he would not be arrested. He is
a very large, powerful man ; so, to save
him from himself and from his people,
the captain sent him, with a note, to the
guard-house, and there they put him in
irons. We do not know what is to be
done.

The captain sent for Mr. Willard to at-
tend the " pow-wow " (council) on Monday,
and afterward asked him to attend to the
funeral service. He and his officers were
in attendance, together with other whites ;
it was held in the house of Anahootz.
Some hymns were sung; then Mr. Wil-
lard spoke of death — what it is — the judg-
ment, and the individual accountability of
each soul for the deeds done in the body :

" No shifting of guilt then ! As Captain
2

"*!

LIFE IN ALASKA.

Glass punished each man for his own, and
not another man's, sin, so God," etc. Mr.
Austin followed.

Then the friends, many of whom had
been knitting and sewing during the ser-
vice, took leave of the body, after which it
was carried out through an opening made
by the removal of some boards from the
side of the house, as they have a super-
stition against taking a corpse through
the usual door of a house. They lead out
a dog before the coffin — I suppose, that it
may receive the thrusts of the evil spirits
that beset the way, and prevent sickness
from coming into the house.

Night before last a squaw came running
to the guard-house with the word that she
had been out to Indian River (about a mile
distant), when she was seized by ten Chil-
cats, who meant to kill her to avenge the
death of the man of their tribe who killed
himself in the guard-house heie ; but when
they found that she was not of the family
of that unfortunate man's wife, they let her
go and were lying in ambush for some Sit-
ka Indians. Upon hearing this story, the

LIFE IN ALASKA. I9

officers ordered the Indian police to recon-
noitre ; but they were afraid, and would not
go. The Chilcats are the terror of all other y
Alaska tribes.

We cannot tell how much truth there is
in this woman's story. We have had no
recent word from the Chilcat country —
none since the Favorite left, and she is not
expected back before the California (mail-
steamer) leaves Sitka. . . .

SiiEKDON Jackson Institutk,
Sitka, Alaska, June 29, 1881.

Mv Dkar FiJENDs : For many days I
have wished for the opportunity of writing
you something of the good work in thi»
dark land. The opportunity comes this
morning while Baby sleeps., and now I re-
alize how difficult it is to select from so
large a collection just the facts that will be
the most interesting and convey to you the
truest impressions. This is a wonderful
country in many respects. During the
summer months it is literally a land where
there is no night — except, indeed, the night
which has so long reigned over the minds
and hearts of this people. The sun sinks

LIFE IN ALASKA,

below the mountain-top at about nine
o'clock p. M. I sat sewing last ni^^ht till
near eleven, and then retired by daylit^ht.
It is "dusk" only for about one hour at
midniorht, and then the broad day streams
in again. One could read all night without
a lamp. We are so near the north pole
that at this season but little of the sun's
circuit is invisible. It rises, I think, at
about one-sixth of the circle from its s'=**'
ting. I believe that from the height of
Mount Saint Elias we could see the sun's
course around the horizon without a mo-
ment's shadow. In winter here, we are
told, the days are correspondingly short :
they have sunset at two or three o'clock
in the afternoon.

The mountains which enclose this pic-
turesque village are white with snow, while
on the table at my side stands a bowl of
the most beautiful berries I ever saw — the
salmon-berries, which are apparently a
cross of the strawberry, which they re-
semble in color and form, and the black-
berry, which they are more like in seed,
cells and flavor. In the last pardcular all

IJFR IN ALASKA.

•<-:f-

fruits that 1 have eaten here are inferior,
having a peculiar wild, woody taste ; but I
beUeve that by culture much better vari-
eties could be obtained.

Since writing this I have eaten salmon-
berries which are as large as crab-apples
and very delicious. In appearance they
are certainly all that could be desired.
We had lettuce, too, from the garden here,
yesterday — very nice — and radishes, peas,
cauliflowers, cabbage, potatoes and turnips ;
and many other things are growing beau-
tifully.

We stopped but two hours in Fort
Wrangell on the way here ; so I found no
time to devote to the sketch of the mis-
sion buildings which Dr. Jackson requested
for his paper, there was so much to be seen
and heard.

The town of Wrangell is a mud-hole and
a wharf — at least, it must have been only
that before the missionaries made it a
home also. Subtract the Home and the
little signs of life through the tow i which
are clearly its emanations, and it is a scene
of desolation such as would nil your hearts

LIFE IN ALASKA.

■I'll

with a new appreciation of the spirit which
sustained our aear Mrs. McF'arland when
the departing steamer left her the only
white woman in the place. She is the
general, and Miss Maggie J. Dunbar is
her able under-officer.

The Home is a large and plain but sub-
stantial building with double porch to the
front, looking out over the lovely harbor
and its green islands, locked in by the
snow-capped mountains which almost crowd
the little town into the water. The twenty-
eight happy girls were grouped on the up-
per porch, and made a sweet picture in the
light of the setting sun — a picture the de-
tails of which grew upon us as we mingled
among them, and which was not complete
without the shadow of the Indian ranche in
all its squalor and sin. After showing us
through the house, which is surprisingly
complete in its appointments, even to the
bath-room (with ready faucets) out of the
dormitory, and bake- and wash-house, a
sitting-room for the girls and a sick-room
— which, happily, was unoccupied — the girls
were called into the schoolroom to sing for

im.

LIFE IN ALASKA.

US. I am sure that no one could have
heard their sweet voices without wishing
to have a share in this work. The chil-
dren looked so proud and happy ! They
are very quick and bright.

Mr. Young s had with them on their trip
the little Hydah girl of about ten years
whom they adopted from the Home. I
was sketching a little on deck one day,
and she instantly became inspired. She
would sit in perfect rapture looking at
the mountains, sky and water. At one
point of particular beauty she exclaimed,
with her hands on her breast and her face
all aglow, " Oh, my heart gave a great
shake !" At another place Mrs. Young
told her to sketch the scene at sunset.
She sat with an expression of countenance
worthy a great artist. Gazing over the shin-
ing deep with softened eyes, she simply
said, 'T can't draw glory." This child's
father, now dead, was the finest artist
and silversmith on the coast. Beautiful
work in carving and weaving is still done.

The Home is an industrial school, the
housework, sewing and everything being

LIFE IN ALASKA.

done by classes in turn. It has been
named "The McFarland Home." The In-
dian women, by the way, sew beautifully.

After we came up here I gave my Stick-
een girl, Kittie (whom I brought with me
from the McFarland Home), some hand-
kerchiefs to hem, some with the portraits
of our President and Vice-President, which
I intended as presents to the Chilcat chiefs,
and I know that few white girls at her age
would have done the work so well. I also
cut out a new dress for her, and she made
the skirt very nicely. By the last steamer
she sent to •' Dear Mrs. McFarland " a let-
ter which I wish you could have seen, writ-
ten in a plain hand, in simple yet dignified
language, with not a word misspelled ex-
cept my name.

There are a good many flowers about
the house, and between the Home and the
very neat church-building is quite a nice
garden. On the other side of the church is
the little cottage-home of those consecrat-
ed missionaries Dr. W. H. R. Corlies and
wife. Mrs. Corlies is the daughter of a mis-
sionary to China, and a more beautiful soul

LIFE IN ALASKA.

than hers I never recognized. I loved her
from the first. Dr. Codies, although not a
graduate of either medical or theological
school, has studied in both, and was or-
dained as a missionary. They came out
in June of 1879, from Philadelphia, with
their one little boy of eight or ten years ;
they have now a dear little baby-girl.
These, with the Rev. S. Hall Young and
wife, make up the mission force at Wran-
gell, where is the only organized evangel-
ical church in Alaska.

Here in Sitka a great work has been
done, and is going on. In looking over
the field I am impressed with two things —
the wonderful results already accomplished
and the infinitely greater work yet to be
done. It is word by word and word upon
word ; it is in some sense like the work of
the blacksmith, under whose hammer the
iron constantly cools. Over and over again
it must go to the forge, and the hammer
must know no rest.

Rev. John G. Brady was the first gentle-
man sent out by a Board to Alaska. He
came here in the spring of 1878. Some

L/FE IN ALASKA.

time after, Miss KellogjT joined him as the
teacher of the school, and had not been
here more than six months when she went
to Wrangell as the wife of Rev. Mr. Young.
Soon after, Mr. Brady resigned the charge
of the mission. Mr. Alonzo E. Austin, a
friend of Mr. Brady's in New York, came
here for his health, and after the breaking
up of the mission opened a school for the
Russian children, which he carried on un-
til the arrival of his family, about a year
aj.;o. Then it was transferred to the hands
of his second daughter, the elder daughter
having brought with her a commission as
teacher to the Indians. Rev. G. W. Lyons
and wife were then sent as missionaries to
this station. They stayed but a year, when,
on account of ill- health, they were obliged
to return to California. Soon after, Mr.
Austin received a teacher's commission
also, he and his daughter being the force
here at present.

During our stay my husband preaches
in the custom-house on the Sabbath, and
we have prayer-meeting on Wednesday
evenings. Mr. Austin seems to be abun-

LIFE IN ALASKA.

dantly qualified for the work here, and I
hope he will be ordained and given charge
of this station. He was a mission-worker
in New York City for many years. He
has a power really remarkable in adapting
himself, his thoughts and his words to the
condition of the Indians. They seem to
like him very much, and he and his daugh-
ter have inaugurated a work which already
has done much good, and promises so much
more that I would like to see them carry
it on.

This leads me to speak of the boys' Home
at Sitka, which is only started and numbers
twenty-three boys, with others pleading to
be taken in. But until the support of some
of the scholars is guaranteed by friends
in the favored " East," Mr. Austin fears to
incur more risks in debt; so the poor little
fellows are sent back into the haunts of sin
and vice which they have learned to hate.
It was in this way the Home originated.
Some of the boys attending the day-school
begged to be allowed to stay in the build-
ing overnight, saying they were obliged to
see and hear wicked thing's in their homes,

LIFE IM ALASKA.

t
l!.>

and the folks drank Hoochinoo and caroused
all night; so that they could neither sleep
nor study, and overslept themselves in the
morning, making them late to school. They
were at length taken in, and others pleaded
for the same privilege ; so the Home be-
gan, and was named by the missionaries
" Sheldon Jackson Institute," after Dr. Jack-
son, who was not only the first American
minister to visit this section in the interests
of missions, but has also become the " fa-
ther of Alaska missions " by his success in
securing both missionaries and funds for
the work.

You must hear of the work of Captain
Henry Glass, of the U. S. S. Jamestown,
which has been stationed here for two
or three years. Captain Glass succeed-
ed Captain L. A. Beardslee last summer. It
is not often that the government sends out
a missionary, but they have sent one in this
young commander, and in his lieutenant,
Mr. F. M. Symonds. His first move was
to abolish hoochinoo. He made it a crime
to sell, buy or drink it, or any intoxicating
drinks. He prevailed upon the traders to

LIFE IN ALASKA.

sell no molasses to Indians in quantities, so
that they could not make drink. He issued
orders in regard to the cleaning up of the
ranche (the Indian quarters), which was
filthy in the extreme and had been the
scene of nightly horrors of almost every
description, the yells seeming, as some
have said, to come from the infernal re-
gions, murder being of common occur-
rence and the town filled with cripples.
He appointed a polite force from the In-
dians themselves, dressed them in navy-
cloth, with " Jamestown " in large gilt let-
ters on their caps and a silver star on their
breast. He made education compulsory in
this way : The houses were all numbered,
and the children of each house. Each child
was given a little round tin plate on which
was marked his number, thus : " House No.
17, Boy No. 5." These plates were worn
on a string about the neck. As soon as
the children come into school they are reg-
istered. Whoever failed to send their chil-
dren to school were fined a blanket. As
soon as they discovered that the captain
was in earnest they submitted, and I believe

LIFE IN ALASKA.

no blanket has been forfeited since the first
week. Now, if any are going off on a fish-
ing-tour, the head of the house comes and
explains why his children will be absent
and for how long. In this way the school
attendance has been doubled, the highest
being two hundred and seventy-one; this
is the mission day-school.

The Indians, not being able to spend
their money for hoochinoo, spend it for
food and clothing. Most of the women
are clothed right neatly in calico dresses,
which they make themselves and keep very
clean ; their blankets, which are the univer-
sal outside garment, are as white as snow,
those that are not dyed. Some of the lat-
ter are very handsome. I have seen sev-
eral of a beautiful navy-blue with a stripe
of crimson, on each side of which was a
close scale-row of pearl buttons ; the stripe
passed round the neck and down the front.
An orange-colored silk handkerchief on
the head and a pair of light-colored mocca-
sins complete the outfit. Their blankets
are worn with peculiar grace, a party of
Indians making a most picturesque group.

LIFE IJV AL.ISh'A.

first

fish-

and

Dsent

chool

-•hest

this

They all wear jewelry and prefer silver to
g^old. Some of the women wear as many
as a dozen pair of bracelets at once. They
are generally made of coin beaten out and
beautifully engraved. They cost from one
dollar and a half per pair to five dollars,
the price varying according to the width
and weight.

The ranche has been cleaned, white-
washed and drained. Some pleasant new
houses are being put up, and all is peace-
ful and quiet where a few months ago it
was a place of strife. Hut the work did
not stop there : the whole town has been
renovated ; bad Indians sent to the guard-
house were put to work ; streets have been
cleaned, trees planted, a sea-wall built, the
common made tidy, etc.

The boys who are staying at the school
had boarded themselves, but a room has
been fixed up a little for them ; they had
a tin box-lid tacked up for a looking-glass.
This was in the old barracks building where
Mr. Austin's are living. Captain Glass had
the school removed to another Lrovernment
building, (juite large, and in a beautiful lo-

LIFE IN ALASKA.

cation down the beach. An effort is beini;
made now to secure it out and out to the
mission. They have been promised the
free use of it as long as they occupy it.
There is a large and good garden attached,
from which, it is hoped, they will have a
considerable income over and above sup-
plying the Home with vegetables. The
captain had the building whitewashed and
fixed up generally — had the ship's carpen-
ter make the bunks for the boys, and
benches, tables, etc. In fact, he has seemed
to turn the crew into a mission force, he
and his young wife at the head working
with their own haiids and encoura<rin(r in
every way the earliest and devoted teach-
ers. So now tills staying overnight of a
few boys has developed into a boys' board-
ing and industrial school. They do their
own work, even sewing now, under the
ship's tailor, on a second suit of clothes
for themselves of cotton-jean. They and
the outside children attend school together
in the morning, and on Sabbath morning
service is held in the schoolroom there for
the Indians. I could not keep back the

■;

1. 1 IE IN ALASKA.

tears of joy, wIkmi I attcndL'tl tluiir meet-
inc^, to hear these; children, who but a few
months a^o were in savage darkness, now
sittini^^ with brii^ht, eaj^er faces Hstening to
the tidinjL(s which have j^laddened so many
hearts, and in their turn repeatini^ as with
one voice the Ten Commandments and the
beautiful assurances of God's love, such as
" God so loved the world," etc. ; then, with
sweetly solemn voices, their hands clasped
and heads reverently bowed, they prayed
too^ether in the Lord's words. I never be-
fore heard the prayer repeated so beau-
tifully. And still there is so much to do ;
only a beginninjr has been made. The
ii^reat house, after all, is very barren, cold
and damp, and the boys do not have bed-
clothes to keep them warm. They, so far,
have found their own blankets, but they
are insufficient, and one poor little fellow
has none. The weather never gets warm
here. We have fire every day and sleep
under clothing almost as heavy as in win-
ter at home ; so that, at least before winter
comes, these boys ought to have some com-
fortables.

LIFE IN ALASKA.

Another opportunity for kind hearts and
wilHn<r hands is the sick-room in the Home.
It is a dark, bleak, barren room containing-
only two cots and a stool or two — no warm
comforts, not even a rug for the floor,
and withou';; curtains for the windows
and pictures for bare walls. There is a
dear little fellow, named Lawrence, in the
school, who has an abscess, and the doctor
says that he cannot live more than two
years. Soon, I fear, he will be confined
to this miserable room. How nice it would
be if some of those who have beautiful
rooms at home could spare r.omething to
beautify this ! He is a very bright, sweet-
faced, patient boy, and Mr. Austin says
he lias just to pull him back from work,
although he is so thin and weak.

The schoolroom is very pleasant. Miss
Austin and I colored some Bible scenes for
the walls ; the walls and ceiling w^cre paint-
ed white, with a blue cornice. Mrs. Beards-
lee presented some pretty blue calico, which
we made into curcains for that room. In
it, also, is the organ, and they expect to
furnish the windows with plants.

CAKVKI) IMri.KMKNTS.

I. An ancient stone axe. 2, 3. Bones used in setting a trap for fur-animals.
4, 5. 6- Spoon-handles made of horn.

4*:.

LIFE IN ALASKA.

Another thin!:^;- I meant to speak of: the
Indians, and particularly our tribe, do beau-
tiful work in carving- in bracelets of silver,
and in spoons and forks of wood and bone,
and in weavinof from the inner bark of trees
baskets, tabl'j-mats, hats, etc., which are not
only very pretty, but very durable ; and we
wish very much to encourage every indus-
try among them, and to develop every talent.
We feel the necessity of their becoming in
industrious people, that they may become
a good people. ! intend to design some
tilings for them after a while, and to offer
'■yards for desiofnlnof amonof themselves.
''■ . would like to have an outlet for this
A '/k. There is an almost endless variety.
They are very quick at copying. The
large basket which they us^^ for carrying
water makes a good waste-papei' basket.

I have not spoken of the language. It
is very difficult, but the Sitka, Stickeen and
Chilcat tribes speak the same. I have been
.■studying some with Kittie, and have quite a
number of words ; but oh, it Is so hard to
be tonirue-tied when the heart is full !

We are eagerly expecting Dr. Jackson

J. I IF. IN ALASKA.

l)y Steamer California next week, after
which we hope to have a party with us to
Chilci . so that the next letter will tell
you ot eld which heretofore has been

unoccupied by any mission.

And now, with lovintr remembrances for
all, and prayer for mutual blessings in this
great work, I am

Truly your frie^id,

CaKKIK M. WlLLAKl).

yuly A'. — Chilcat is souk? two hundred
and twenty-five miles north of this place,
through Chatham Straits. Tlu; steamer
leaves in forty-eight hours, and w(* go
with her as far as tlu; mines. Dr. Sh(;l-
don Jackson is aljoard, with carp^Miters
and lumber for the building of the mis-
sion house, which we hope to occupy be-
fore long. . . .

Chilcat Mission Mansp:,

IIainis, Alaska, August 23, 1881.

Mv Dkar Friends: In the beginning, a
word to friends old and young who had
part or parcel in the work of sending the

ift

IS to
tell

)een

; for
this

:i).

ircu
lace,
.me*r

• (r

t;o

Iters
niis-

CAUVKI) IMl'M.Ml-.NTS.
I, 2. Chil.'.at nittlfs. 3 Wdodt-n howl. 4 Winnlcii pipe. =,. Wooden comb.

Ul'E IN ALASXA.

sinofin^r-books''" which arrived last evenin*^
by the man-of-war Wachusette. How we
do thank you all for your prompt kind-
ness ! We feel so strong — that is, your
ready action in this matter has made us
feel that we have your interest, your love
and your prayers. And, as we said to
each other when we opened the books
last night, " Oh how good it will seem to
sinLT from books that our home-friends
have sent !" It seems fjood even to have
them in the house.

And now where shall I begin to teil you
of all you wish to know of our work ? You
know we expected to live in a tent till we
could put up for ourselves a log house.
Well, we should have done so had it not
been for Dr. Sheldon Jackson's wise and
unselfish zeal. Instead of waitinof until
some one proffered the means, he had
faith in the loving interest of the Church at
large to redeem the pledge he might make,
and borrowed money on his own responsi-
bilitv to erect buildinors for the mission both

* Donated by the society of the First Presbyterian Church of
New Castle, Pennsylvania.

LIFE IN AL^iSKA.

here and at 1 loonyah. 'I1u!n, as the
mere mechanical part of building was no
simple problem so far from supplies, he
brought his own experience to bear per-
sonally upon it, and with his carpenters
worked with his own hands on our pretty
home here. He also brou'^ht us a bell —
the gift of Mrs. C. H. Langdon of I'lliza-
beth. New Jersey — which is the first Pres-
byterian bell in Alaska ; and oh how sweet
it sounds! Just a perfect Presbyterian
tone ! I can never give expression to
the feelinfTs it aroused when I first heard
the waves of its solemn music in the soli-
tude of Alaska. It is such a help to us !
Twice every Sabbath it brings the natives
toofGther to hear the sjood news, and on
every weekday but Saturday to a Chris-
tian school. Dr. Jackson expects, on his
return to the States, to solicit funds with
which to pay for our building.

And now as to our field and work here.
I would like to give you a clear idea of it.
You have heard of the British mission, un-
der the care of Mr. Duncan, who has built
up the model Christiim Indian village of

the

CIIILCAT UAbKKTs AM) HORN srooN.

LIFE IN ALASKA.

Mc't-lah-kat-lah, British Columbia. It is with
something of the same plan in mind that
we have located our mission on Portage
l)ay, where there is no permanent Indian
house, and named it, after the secretary
of the Woman's Executive Committee of
Home Missions, '* Haines." In our Chil-
cat country there are four villages — three
on Chilcat River, and one on the Chilcoot
River. Each of these villages has its chief
or chiefs and medicine-men, each its dis-
tinct nobility, and each its own interests
and jealousies of all the others. So, you
see, had we built at any one of these
places, we would in some measure come
into antagonism with the others. We
would, in their eyes, be allying ourselves
with that particular people, and the others
would be too proud to come under their
hand. As it is. Portage Bay is a beautiful
and safe harbor almost at the head of Chil-
coot Inlet, the eastern arm of Lynn Chan-
nel. The point of land here between the
Chilcat River and the channel is the largest
level tract, and the most fertile that we have
seen anywhere in Alaska, and will afford

LIFE IN ALASKA.

ample farming-Li^round for the people. They
all regard it as our place and so speak of
it, and have promised in all the villai^es to
come to "the minister's place" and build
new houses where they can learn some-
thing good. They have visited us, and
one and all have expressed their joy at
our arrival and their own intention to
come and build here as soon as the win-
ter stores of fish and berries are secured.
Besides our own house here, there are
buildings put up by the trading company,
one occupied by them as a trading-[)ost,
the other purchased by the mission Board
for school purposes. It is sixteen by thirty
feet, of rough and knotty up-and-down
boards, without chimneys, with four small
windows, which cannot be opened, and one
small door, and so frail that I fear it will
:>carcely stand one good winter storm, for
it shakes with walking down the steps.
The rafters above have been covered with
cheese-cloth whitewashed, which flaps up
and down like a sail every time the door
is opened. There are so many holes in
the shingles that on a sunshiny day this

LI IE /A' A/.ASh'A.

whitod canopy presents the appearance of
the starry heavens, so (kicked with sun-
light. It will perhaps do for a year or

two.

The company's store is kept by their

aL,^ent, G
whose wi

eorLre

Dick

inson.

IS a

simpsean

an
Ind

merican,

lan woman

who went to school to Mr. Duncan and
was convert(;d there. It was she who was
workint^ in a little school of their own with
Clah in lu^rt Wram^^ell when Dr. Jackson
and Mrs. McFarland went there, in 1877.
After their arrival she acted as interpreter,
until, just a year ago, her husband was sent
here by the company, and she was commis-
sioned by the Board to open a school for the
Chilcats. She is a very i^ood woman, I
think, and has done well under the circum-
stances. We shall soon need a teacher of
larger scope. She is retained for the pres-
ent as teacher under Mr. Willard, and in-
terpreter.

We opened the school on Monday, the
8th of August, after Dr. Jackson left, with
twenty-four pupils. Some days since we
have had twenty-eight, but only four reg-

LIFE IN ALArA'A.

u!ar ones. The others came in as they
crossed the trail. There are a few bark
booths, where they stop when they come
to trade. But on every Sabbath canoe-
loads come from the villai^es, and we have
always had from forty-five to fifty in attend-
ance. Monday five other canoes came in
for church, having missed a day ; we taught
them in our home. These are principally
from Chilcoot and the lower villaoes. The
others are too far away, and the people too
busy, except in the uppermost, where tney
have been hindered by war. We have now
their promises of peace, and that the people
will come down soon. We are hoping to
commence regular v/ork by the first of Oc-
tober. We have scarcely breathing-time
now. We hope to visit all the villages
before that time.

We have already made the trip to Chil-
coot, and I must tell you about it. The
"hief, Don-a-wok, of the lower village, has
a large canoe, and one day he sent a mes-
senger up to ask us to go out with him on
the bay. We gladly consented, and at sun-
set we pu.shed off with eight paddles. We

LIFE IN ALASKA.

■^m^

had a delig-htful time, singing the while, at
the chiefs reque?!, some gospel hymns.
He offered also the service of his boat to
take us to Chilcoot ; so the next day I spent
in preparing lunch for the party, and on the
second morning, bright and early, we set
sail and dipped paddle for Chilcoot, thirty-
two souls comfortably seated, and still room
for as many more. Putting into a little bay
below the rapids, we left the boat and took
the trail to the village, about a mile di^t^ant,
which we reached about noon, and wnere
we found the news of our coming had pre-
ceded us lonof enouirh for the chiefs to have
everything in readiness. We were con-
ducted to the house of the head-chief, who
is also a medicine-man, and were received
with the ofreatest kindness.

The house was exceedingly neat, the
hard, burnished boards of the floor being
white and clean. Sand was sprinkled over
the fireplace, in the centre. We mounted
the high steps outside to a low-arched door-
way, passing through which we found our-
selves on a little platform, from which two
or three steps led down to a second plat-

LIFE //V ALASKA.

form, of oreatcr breadth, extending around
the entire buildini^. Two or three feet from
its edofc was hunir tent-cloth, curtaininof in
sleeping- and store-rooms on the two sides.
The end of the room opposite the door,
back of the fireplace, is the seat of honor.

IMKUKJR OK A CJIII.CAT HOUSE.
From a Drawing by Mrs. Willard.

In this case it consisted of chests of .-.ome
kind covered with white muslin. Back of
it, ranged on a platform, were the treas-
ures in crockery, some half a dozen large
washbowls and a neat platter.

I.I IE IX ALASKA.

As we entered, the chief sat in state on
a small chest at one side of the fireplace,
robed in a pair of blue pantaloons, a clean
pink calico shirt, and fallinc^ in graceful folds
about him a navy-blue blanket with a bor-
(l(;r of handsome crimson cloth edged with
a row of large pearl buttons. In his hair,
which is quite crimped and curling about
liis hiirh forehead and hancrs down his back
like the tail of a horse (for they are not
[)ermitted ever to comb or to plait it), was
arranirC'd the whole skin of a little white
ermine. On the platform just above him
sat his wife with a similar blanket about
her and a great many silver bracelets on
her arms. They showed us to our seats
and gave expression in both smiles and
words to their pleasure at our coming.
Our entire party occupied the honorable
end of the room, but we only had the
seats.

The old chief said he was so glad that
th(! minister had come at last! He wished
it might have been when he was boy ; now
he was old, he was soon to go dowm to
death, but he could go now more happily,

5^>

I. HE IX ALASKA.

knf)\viiiL( that his people would now have
lij^^ht. lie wished that the white man liked
Indian's food; then he woidd show us how
they loved us. He had salmon-berries:
would we eat some of those? We con-
sented, and a servant brouL,du the wash-
bowls before the chief's wife, who with her
hands filh-d up the bowls with the beauti-
ful Ixtrries. The first was borne to us, set
down on the Iloor before us, the next to
l)on-a-wok and Mrs. Dickinson, the oth-
ers severally to groups of Indians in our
party seated on the floor. We took up our
bowls, and after grace began to eat with
our fingers. By this time a great many
of the people had gathered in. Mr. Wil-
lard spoke to them for half an hour, after
which, with singing and prayer, we took
our d(!parture.

W(i then looked about the village, the
houses of which are ranijed alonof the bluff
and about the rapids. Running out from
th(! walk in front of the dwell in<rs ar(; trel-
lises for drying salmon. Great pilc!s had al-
ready b(*(;n put away, yet more were drying.
H(ilow these!, nearer the water, they were

■ --4

A///-: IN ALASKA.

making' fish-oil in their wooden canoes.
At first, when I saw the boiHng mass of fish,
1 wondered how they kept the canoe from
burninir. Then I remembered that the fire
was not under the canoe, but under a o^reat
altar-Hke mound of stones, which, being
made red hot, were dropped into the canoe
of fish. Out in the water were the inofe-
nious sahnon- traps, where they take such
immense quantities of this fine fish as they
come up the river at this season of the
year to spawn. Then, after a look at the
beautiful lake, of which the river is the out-
let, we, Mr. VVillard and myself, with our
interpreter, took the chiefs canoe, and, with
two Indians to pole, we "shot" the rapids,
seated one before the other in the bottom
of the narrow boat, a hand on either side
to steady us. I sat with my Lack to the
head of the canoe, and saw the dangers only
to be thankful that we had escaped them,
while Mrs. Dickinson, turned the other way
and seeing- always the rock we were to split
upon, kept uttering little cries of alarm ; but
it was only for a few minutes, and we reached
the landing-place. We had a good dinner

J.Il'E IN ALASKA.

on a beautiful beach, then took the paddles
for home, singing most of the way, our bod-
ies full of weariness, but our hearts full of
peace. Soon after nightfall we found our-
selves at our own little home ao;ain.

But my letter is already too long, although
I have not told you half that I wished ; and
I must say " Farewell," with the prayer that
your little society may continue to grow in
interest and influence. . . .

Cmi-CAT Mission,

IIainks, Alaska, August 27, 1881.

Rev. Sheldon Jackson, D. D. —

Dear Friend and Broiiier : I cannot
refrain from dropping you a note of thanks,
although words are too feeble to express
our appreciation of what you have done in
our behalf; in God's hands, you have done
everything for us.

In the first place, you gained for us our
hearts' desire — the appointment to preach
glad tidings to the Chilcats. You advised
and encouraged us by the way. We left
home with the expectation of living in a
tent until we could by our own labor put

LIFE IN ALASKA.

up a lo(Tf house. This exposure your lov-
ini^ zeal and wise energy has prevented by
taking upon your own shoulders a burden
which, I trust, will soon be removed by an
interested people at home — the financial
burden, I mean, for you have borne so
much more than that in the planning and
(.Tcction of the building which has given
us such a comfortable home in this far-
away land.

Your coming with us, too, and introdu-
cing us to the very chiefs to whom you first
had promised a teacher years ago, has, I am
sure, been most advantageous to the be-
ginning of our work here, and your coun-
sel and advice most helpful and comfort-
ing to us.

That God may bless you more and more
abundantly in your labors of love is the
prayer with thanksgiving of your grateful
sister in Christ, Carrie M. Willard.

Chii.cat Mission,

Haines, Alaska, August 24, 1881,

Oh what a precious budget this big ship
(U. S. S. Wachusette) has brought us! —

///•/'; AV A/.ASh'A.

books, papers and letters conifortinc^ and
helpful. We have so much enjoyed them
a//. . . .

I often realize the meanint^ of the Script-
ure ''And a lltde child shall lead them," for
truly our baby is a lari^e element in the
Chiicat mission force. For instance: The
first day after our arrival here the children
flocked in to see us. I had Baby on my
lap, washing- and combing lu:r hair. Tlu!
little Indians first shyly showed their black-
and-red-painted faces at a little crack of the
door after having taken a survey of the in-
side premises through a knot-hole. Baby
smiled at them with me, holding her wee
thumb and first finger closely pinched to-
gether with a kiss. I had Kittie tell them
that she was kissing them, and so Baby
won their first smile ; and they crept by
slow degrees close up to us, watching the
washing-and-combing process with open-
mouthed in te rest-
After they had become thoroughly ab-
sorbed and I had put on Baby her pretty
white apron, I had Kittie tell them that this
was my little baby, that she (Kittie) was my

/.//•A /A' ALASKA.

h'\<r i^irl, and tliat they all were my children.
Just as I kept my liltlt; baby I wanted ail
my children kept — nice and clean. Mad
they ever seen a comb like that? No, they
never had ; so, after groupinj^ them as they
l)eloni(ed — in families — I gave to each group
a good fme comb. You should have seen
their faces ! Such a study as they were !
So full of wonder and of pleasure ! For
a moment they stood perfectly still, then
with one accord ran out of the door and
away.

In the course of fifteen minutes they
began to reappear by twos and threes with
faces ruddy and resplendent — the paint had
been so hastily and so vigorously removed —
and \.\vi hair, which had for the first time been
brought into contact with a comb, standing
on end as with utter astonishment. Again
were their faces a study — an expression of
a newly-awakened self-respect and a certain
pride which held its own while it sought
approval in my eyes as they ranged them-
selves before me with happy dropped eye-
lids. Of course I gave expression to my
delight, and had them all sit down on the

LIFE IN ALASKA.

floor beside me while I told them of Jesus
and taught them that sweet little hymn,

" Oh, I u n so gkfl
That our Father in heaven," etc.

Thus the work began. From that day
to this I have never seen the faces of those
children painted, and day after day they reg-
ularly, of their own accord, presented them-
selves to show me that they had combed
their hair.

I have been so interested, too, in the
effect of Baby's sweet face and winning
ways on strangers who have come to us
from the more distant villages. I have
seen them enter with questioning, distrust-
ful and suspicious faces, and in a very few
minutes melt into a perfectly restful enjoy-
ment of the situation and go away with
frank expression of their friendship and of
pleasure at our coming. One old woman
from the upper village had been waiting
about the door outside, I know not hov/
long, until I left the room for a moment;
then, slipping in, she sat down on the floor
beside Baby and placed before her a basket

I.U'K IN ALASKA.

of luscious berries. There she sat when I
came out, not ckirinjL,^ to raise her head, but
smilino softly to herself. Goinjr up, I knelt
down beside her and took her hand, tellin<^
her in strong Kling--get that I was j^dad to
sec her. She slowly looked up, and there
was such a glad light in her face as she
took my hand in both hers and, patting it
softly, ^r^A something to me which Kittie
iiU(;rpreted as *' My child, my child." Then
she told me that she had never seen a white
woman before, and she felt afraid to come
to see the minister's wife, but she wanted
so much to come that she came with a pres-
ent to the dear little baby. Now she was
afraid no more ; she saw a friend's face.

So I might go on telling you of Baby's
work here, but you want to hear of some-
tliin<r else, and time is so short for so much
to be done.

We had a letter from Dr. Jackson by this
vessel saying that his mail had brought him
the good news that a lady in Ohio had
given one thousand dollars for our build-
ing here. Thus the Lord is providing.

And now you will be anxious to hear

LIFE IN ALASKA.

of pcac(i prospects for Chllcat. I think
that I may say they are favorable. As I
told you in my last, the head-chief, Shat-e-
ritch, was quite ill, and sent for and re-
ceived of us medicines which seemed to do
him much good. On last Sabbath after-
noon he came over the trail wliile we were
holding services ; afterward he came into
our home. He looked about very suspi-
ciously and seemed ill at ease. We showed
him our house audits appointments; then
I had him sit at the table and take supper
with us. The beans, or something, seemed
to find the way to his heart ; and then his
heart came to his lips, and he told us that
he had been told of bad thin^fs we said of
him. We explained all satisfactorily, and
he went away apparently in the best hu-
mor and wirh the kindest feeling, asking
me to take his daughter for my own and
train her up to be a good and wise woman.
This l?st I declined to answer affirmatively
as yet. He gave us word that there was
no actual fighting when he left ; that most
of the people were anxious to have it set-
tled, so that they could come down here to

LIFE IN ALASKA.

school ; that he had a long time prevented
their fio:htin<r and thev had promised to set-
tie after the officer of the Jamestown came,
hut the day after the missionary left the
"Murderer" (as he had lon^r been called
l)y the people) shot his own friend — one
of the nobility, leaving only four — and that
made the hearts of all the people sick, so
that they had no strength and he wanted to
say nothing to them. He had nothing to
do with the fighting, only tried to prevent it,
and didn't like the man-of-war to come and
talk so much with him about it. He want-
ed them to come and deal with those who
fought and caused the fight. We explained
to him that it was because he was for peace,
and was a wiser man than the fighters, that
the officers wished to speak to him. He left
lor Chilcoot to buy oil for winter, return-
ing yesterday, when we had another call
from him.

In the mean time, the Wachusette steamed
along and cast anchor in our harbor. At
lirst the Indians seemed frit'htened and

suspicious,
mission bell.

We rang a salute with our
The officers came ashore

LIFE IN ALASKA.

and to our house; then it orrieved my heart
to see the changed faces of our poor peo-
ple. So Ignorant and so fearful, how their
countenances were changed toward nie !
I looked in vain for the warm, briirht wel-
coming smile as I passed among them :
they were suspicious of us, and averted
their faces. But by degrees they were
again inspired with confidence in the offi-
cers and in us. We assured the people
that they were come as friends to all who
would do right. The captain invited them
on board ship, and by and by flocks of
canoes from the villages visited it, and all
became friends.

Captain Edward P. Lull had a conversa-
tion with Shat-e-ritch and sent for other
counselors, who have not yet arrived. If
they come in time for a talk to-night, the
vessel will l(;ave early in the morning.

While Shat-e-ritch was in Chilcoot, and
l)efore the steamer came, a party arrived
Irom the upper Ciiilcat village with the
word that peace was made, the satisfaction
had been paid, and all were glad but one
d(!sperate man, wiio would never be satis-

l.irE fN ALASKA.

fied. We cannot tell as yet just how true
this report may be.

On the other hand, that Sitka affair is
not considered as settled by the friends of
tlie man who was injured and committed
suicide in the prison. You remember I
told vou about it before ; he had killed the
man who took his wife, and because of the
overwhelminof disi^-race took his own life.
He was of the higher class of the lower
village people, and the chief, Don-a-wok.
is qroinof to Sitka for satisfaction. He
bought a large Hydah canoe to make the
trij) in. He also intends to bring back
with him as wife the daughter of the Hoo-
chinoo chief. She is quite young, we hear,
while he is a great, stalwart, dignified, and
withal a fine-looking, old man, of perhaps
fifty. His nephew, Cla-not, who will suc-
ceed him as chief, is one of those who ac-
companied Dr. Jackson on his trip to Fort
Simpson, and to whom was first promised
a missionary. He also was about the first
to meet, recognize and welcome Dr. jack-
son here.

These men are both interested in the

LIFE IN ALASKA.

Sitka affair, as the man was a relative of
theirs. They both are very friendly to us.
We have had many talks, particidarly with
the older man, and last Sabbadi Mr. Wil-
lard preached to him on " If ye forg^ive not
men their trespasses, neither," etc. I had
a long talk with him the other day. He
has been very much interested, as have all
the people, in our house. I asked him if
he were goinc^ to bring his new wife up
here. Yes, he said ; he was going to sit
down by the minister. Then I said, "I sup-
pose you will build a new house like the
white man's ?" Yes, if he could ^-et the
lumber, he wanted to have an " upstairs."
He wanted Dr. Jackson to help him. I
told him Mr. Willard would help him all he
could in telling about the lumber and what
he needed, and then I would show his wife
how to arrange it nicely inside. I asked
him if he were not going to marry his wife
the Christian way, and explained to him
how that was and what it meant: one only
and as long as life lasts ; that he must take
care of his wife as his own life, and she the
same for him ; no more two — always one.

LIFE IN ALASKA.

He seemed delighted, and said he would
brintr her and be married the Christian
way. I promised him that it should be
in our pretty sitting-room. His first wife
has been dead a loner time, and he seems
to be honest and upright.

Cla-not is a splendid man physically and
of good ability. He is the only man, how-
ever, whom I know that has three wives ;
one who is much older than himself he
married for her wisdom. They are in the
lower village. The only thing in the way
of his coming at once to build here is that
an uncle died leaving a house pardy built,
and it is a great point of honor among
them that the next male relative should
take up the work — with all the giving of
<nfts and feastinof which it entails — and
finish the house, that it may stand as a
monument to the memory of the deceased ;
so Cla-not has this to do. Then, he says,
he will come over here.

At present, besides our buildings and
the trade-store shed, there are but a few
bark booths and one open log hut — merely
stopping-places for the Indians when they

LII'K IN ALASKA.

come to trade; — but these are crowded, and
many more people will be here as soon as
the winter's food is cured. 1 have much to
tell you of their manner of doing this. You
wouldn't want any of it.

There is somethinir so deliLrhtful and
comfortable in the coming of our Ameri-
can men-of-war on errands of peace! It
is certainly a part of the fulfillment of
pr(jph(;cy. The captain, Edward P. Lull,
of this vessel, who our weak faith feared
would not ])e a woi hy successor of Cap-
tain (ilass, is a Christian gentleman, and,
I think, desirous of aiding the good work.
We like all the officers very much. The
ship-surg(;on. Dr. Parker, is from Carlisle,
P{!nnsylvania ; we at once claimed kinship
widi him.

Will you please send me those; Evangel-
ists and .Sunday-school papers, as you are
through with them? The latter are prized
very highly by the people. We like to give
them one on Sunday ; and if you have any
little things which would help us in making
Christmas a day to be remt;mber(;d l)y the
Indians, we would be glad to have them

LN'E IN ALASKA.

sent by mail. Perhaps we would be able
to L^et them if sent soon. We shall need
some clothinof, too — some shoes and stock-
in<^^s ; for some of the people are poor,
and Mrs. Dickinson says they came to
school in the snow last winter in their
bare feet with only an old blanket around
them. . . .

Cuii.cAT Mission,

Hainks, Alaska, Septcml)cr 12, i88i.

Rkv. SiiKLDoN Jackson, i). D. : So much
has occurred since we last wrote you that
I despair of p^iving- you a very full account.
I)on-a-wok, the chief, returned to his vil-
laore last eveninjj — so messenorers tell us
— but his heart is so sad that he could not
come to us himself to-day; for, although
Ivis errand to Sitka was a prosperous one,
the Sitka Indians paying many blankets and
Chinese trunks for the life; of his friend, and
wliile he had taken many more with him from
home, yet he had not enough to satisfy the
demand made as an honorable cfift for his
promised wife, and \\i\ was forced to come
back without her. We are all sorry, for we

LIFE IN ALASKA.

had hoped much as a result of his example
in marrying and making a home before this
people. But it must be best somehow. It
is God's work, and he will do and allow to
be done what will further his own glory:
that is a comfort.

We have made our anticipated tour of
the villages, starting out on Thursday, the
1st of September, and returning home on
Tuesday of the next week. We at first
intended to come back on Saturday, and
took with us only provision for that time.
In addition, we carried our blankets, etc.
We found that at \\\<A\ tide a canoe could
be brought quite inland, within a mile of
our house, by a little winding stream,
which after a really labyrinthine course
at length found its way to the great river
Chilcat ; so I felt brave, in my short flan-
nel dress, to undertake the tramp, espe-
cially as there were no Indians at hand
to carry us.

Billy Dickinson had taken his little canoe
across the trail early in the morning, and
at noon, after an early lunch, we took up
the march, Baby going on before with Billy,

LIFE IN ALASKA.

pie
lis
Jt
to

Sam and Mr. Willard, each with his pack,
Kittie witli a little bundle, Mrs. Dickinson s
two little Indians with her hifj^gage, and she
and I brini^ing only our own selves. It was
a beautiful day, cool and briorht, and such a
walk I never had before. The scenery was
of almost bewildering beauty.

I longed to stop only to enjoy it the
more, yet new features constantly urged
us forward. Now the scene was in the
tropics, great-leaved plants and ferns, both
delicate and monstrous, fruit, flowers and
vines on every side, alders dipping their
graceful boughs into still and shady waters,
while the great dark pines all festooned
with moss, like the real Florida moss, over-
shadowed the whole. Ai^ain, the trail led
into beautiful pasture-land with clumps of
trees so like the home fruit trees that it
made my heart jump. We crossed Mr.
Willard's hay-field where the sweet-smell-
ing hay stood in cocks awaiting the com-
pletion of the goat-house vve are building
of iotifs.

At last we struck the stream, just wide
enough at first for the canoe, which was a

LIFE IN ALASKA.

frail, shaky little thinjLf. Hilly took the
prow and paddle; Mrs. Dickinson the
stern, and steered. I sat flat in the bot-
tom of the middle of the canoe, and I
had work enou^rh before we reached the
villai^e. There was a stron<^ w.id and
the water was very roui^h, as here the
river becomes quite wide — a mile and a
half. The big waves shipped us plenty of
sea, and, as we sometimes struck them, our
crazy little boat yawed quite perceptibly.
It kept me busy dipping to keep her afloat.
I was thankful that l^aby was safe with her
father, as the others had all kept the trail.

After a tedious voyage we reached the
lower village at about five o'clock r. m., wet
to the skin and chilled. The trailers had
arrived some time before us, and, although
Don-a-wok was away, his servant-girl had
opened and swept out his house for us ;
freshly-washed gravel lay on the hearth,
and she was just lio-htini^ a fire. I soon
exchanged my wet clothes for good dry
ones I had brought with me, then s(;t about
getting our supper. Presents of fish and
berries began to come in, and we had an

LIFE IN ALASKA.

nbiindant meal. Then came a ^oocl little
feather-bed for me, and th(; i)eople bej^an
to Hock in, ea<j^er to see and hear. We had
about sixty-five Indians present, and gave
them a service.

We slept on the floor about the great
central fire, with the stars shining down on
us through the many openings in the roof;
for it is a rickety old house and small — not
at all like the chief's in Chilcoot. A per-
fect ijale blew before morninij, and it
seemed as though the timbers, which are
tied together by thongs and bark, would
certainly blow in upon us ; but I judge
' they have stood many a stronger storm.
We hired two large canoes next day to
take us to the upper villages.

This canoeing is an experience, I assure
you. The canoe is hewn from a single
tree, so quite narrow for its length. It is
admirably adapted to these waters, but
very unsteady. We all sit single file, flat
in the bottom of the boat.

The first part of the way we went brave-
ly with fidl sails, afterward very laboriously,
the Indians poling at times, and again wad-

LIFE IN ALASKW.

ing and drairirinir the canoe. The water
is very shallow in places and the current
fearful.

We reached the first village about seven
o'clock in the eveninij, hunorry, cold and
tired, not knowing what quarters we mii^dit
find for the night ; but the Lord provided.
The people were very busy with their sal-
mon, and their houses were very crowdcxl
with it and the strangers who had come up
the river to fish, but there was a fine large
house in course of erection. It had the
boards or planks fastened together on the
four sides, the roof as yet consisting of the
rafters ; the turf, all fresh and green, formed
the floor ; windows we had no need of, and
there was a place for a door. It was cor-
dially opened to us, and we soon had a
most irenerous fire blazing in the midst.

The owner of the house was so pleased
to have us occupy his new house that he
sent in wash-bowls full of berries and fish-
oil, also fresh salmon, and we again par-
took of a bountiful supper. But cooking
by such a fire is slow work, particularly
when subject to so many interruptions as

LIFE IN ALASKA.

the trav(;llii!:,^ missionary has ; so, after it
aiul the many j^rcctini^s and httlc speccht's,
wc were too weary to do more than sing
them a hymn and bid them come to an
early-morning meeting. Our Indians reared
their sails on their poK:s against the side
of the buikling, these forming a shed for
our blankets, and there we found refresh-
ing sleep, not disturbed by the odors of an
old Indian house.

Next morning, after an early breakfast
of salmon roasted on a stick, bread, but-
ter and coffee, we had a sunrise meeting
of about seventy-five Indians, who gave
almost breathless attention. Then, bid-
ding them good-bye, receiving their hearty
thanks with expressions of joy at our com-
ing, and after urging them again to come
to our place and build where they could
have school and regular service, we once
more took our canoe, with borrowed poles
of strom^cr make than our own — for the
rapids lay before us — and we were soon
on our way to Clok-won, the uppermost
village, not knowing what awaited us, for
we had learned on the way that the trou-

LIFE IX ALASKA.

ble, which had hccMi smoothed ovct in tlie
presence of the man-of-war, had l)roken
out at^^ain, and that the people were in the
midst of war.

W(i ft'lt the i^^reater necessity of hastcMi-
ini;- forward, trusting- that the Lord, who
brought us hither, would give us the ears
and hearts of the people ; and we did not
trust in vain. Oh how thankful we have
been that we did thus t>"0 on ! We found
the [)eople in trouble, and we brought th(;m
comf(jrt; w ■ found them warring, and we
brought them peace. We found one poor
man on the brink of murder and suicide,
and Ik; assured us that our coming had
saved him from this double sin ; that his
heart was broken and he was in the deep
dark, but the minister's comiui/ had brought
him hope and light.

W(; found Clok-won by far the largest

bid

lan villao'e we

hav

e seen m

Alasl

iva, as

well as the richest and most substantially
built, many of the houses being elegant in
their way. The carvings in many of thcMii
ar(; worth thousands of l)lank(;ts. Three
of th(; largest of these houses belon*'- to

sanwPB*

LIFE IN ALASKA.

Shat-c-ritch, and the laro^est and costliest
one he has given to the mission ; ''n it we
held our service on Sunday. The next in
\ahie to it (the chief's treasure-house) was
nvddv. our lodging-place. We found many
of the houses turned into forts, and barri-
cades in plenty.

There are four distinct tribal families —
tlu; Wolves and Whales, which are nearly
connected and of low caste ; the Crows
and Cinnamon lU'ars, of high caste and
connected in like manner by intermar-
riatres. It is not lawful for those of the
same family to intermarry, though a man
may have a woman and her daughter both
to wife.

The war has been between the Whales, of
low caste, and the Crows, of high ; hence the
much aggravated trouble, one Crow being
worth many Whales. And, of all the peo-
ple, the Whales have most of our pity and
sympathy. They are weak in numbers and
comparatively poor in i)urse. They are
afraid to move out of their houses, and
are literally prisoners in their own homes,
almost everv one of which has been made

LIFE L\ A LAS k' A.

desolate. Signs of niournin^^ are on every
hand ; the beautiful hair of the women is
cut close to the head and their fac(."s are
blackened ; the carving's covered with red
mattinir; the box and moccasins of their
dead placed on a shelf over the door from
which they went out never to return.

We held a separate meeting for them in
the afternoon, rs they could not come to
the other, in the same house where the
whole trouble began ; it was riddled with
bullet-holes. The very spots were pointed
out to us where this one, t..at one and an-
other had been shot down.

First, the eldest son murdered a Crow ;
he ran away to the Stick country. The
Crows retaliated. Then the second son
made some show of revenge ; they de-
manded his life, and his wife, who was a
Crow, defended and protected him. The
poor old mother's heart was broken with
sorrow and shame. She called on her son
to give himself up, but in vain. She even
followed the first son to the int(,'rior on the
same quest. Not succeeding, she n^turned,
and, dressing the'mselves up in their best,

I.ll'E /X ALASKA.

she and Ik.t ! 'ucrhtcr went out and de-
manded to be shot, that the honor of their
family mi^ht Ix; maintained ; so they per-
ished at the hands of the Crows. But they
two were not sufficient to satisfy the claim,
and at last the son came to the door and
L^a.' liimself u[> ; but his wife still clung- to
him. They have a terror of disfigurement
even in death, and she beor<^ed that he be
allowed to descend to the foot of the steps,
that his body might not fall and be bruised.
The Crows suspected her of treachery in
this move, as she had so long shielded
him, and they shot her down where she
stood, alth(jugh she was a Oow. I believe
her husband was afterward killed.

When we entered the house, I think I
never met a more desolate sight. Dirt,
cobwebs, ashes and implemtmts of warfare
lay all about; a few half-dead coals lay on
the unkept hearth, and thc^ only remaining
member of the household sat on the floor
beside it, his head on his knees and an old
hat drawn over \-. — a young man, but one
who had evidently lost the hope and pow-
er of youth. There, into that bouse, we

LIFE IN ALASKA.

brought the gospel of light and peace.
Bless God, as we did, for such a mes-

sage.

A way was opened for us to a man in
one of the forts upon whose death or re-
covery hangs the settlement of the mat-
ter between the tribes. We found him
very sick, and ministered to him as best
we could, as to both temporal and spirit-
ual things.

A Crow family had lost a son by death
after a short ilhiess, and they had just re-
turned from the burning of the body when
we arrived. W(; brought them word of
that world lo them so full of mystery, and
of the life to come.

The Crows are powerful, rich, arrogant
and exceedingly overbearing — at least,
some of them are, especially when they
have hoochinoo. As a poor Wolf told
us, they robbed and ruined their homes
and murdered their families, then taunted
them with being *' killed like dogs and
never making them pay for it," thus try-
ing to exasperate them into completing
their own ruin.

LIFE m AI.ASK'A.

Mr. Willard preached for an hour and
a half, showing" them how they were Hy-
ing in antagonism to the great God, and
must p('rish if they did not surrender.
He told tliem, too, of the love of God, and
how he not only demanded no satisfacdoii
for the death of his Son, but freely gave
him to save his enemies.

Shat-e-ritch is of higher caste than any
other chief of the Chilcats, beintr a Cinna-
mon l^ear and very rich. He occupies a
neutral position in this trouble, except as
he is connected with the Crow^ and tries
to make peace, though his power does not
extend over any but his own tribe. He
received us hrst into his own house, ofiv-
ing us the place of honor. He soon in-
(juired as to how long we expected to stay.
Informing him that we had intended to go
back that afternoon (for the current is so
swift that we come down in two or three
hours, when it rec^uires one and someumcs
two days to go up) we were tWd that the
people's hearts would be too sick if we dii!
not stay over Sunday with them ; we ihen
told him that we had no food for \\\kX time,

LIFE I A' A /.ASK A.

or WO would L,daclly stay, I Ic replied that
Mrs. Dickinson (our interpreter) could
speak for Indian or white man. She must
command his house — ask for whatever we
needed. His wife brought out wheat-flour
and baking-powder, and made bread. They
sent us in everything that we could n^quire,
and gave us new blankets and pillows for
b(!d(ling, fixing us up in the treasure-house.
Several other Indians brouLZ-ht and sent
in berries and salmon at different times.
They always expect a full e([uivalent for
every gift they make : still, they give free-
ly, and it is pleasant to receive.

i')x\ Sabbath, Shat-e-ritch called the head-
men of his people together in his house to
a feast for the s{)ecial purp''se of making
Baby and me Cinnamon Hears and settling
on the names th(;y should give us. I knew
nodiing about it, until toward evening they
brought me my name, and the presents be-
gan to pour in from all my relatives, old
gray-haired men and women calling me
"aunt" and calling Baby "aunt." They
had given me the highest name ev(;r held
by even Cinnamon Bears — viz., " Nauk-y-

I.U'E IN ALASKA.

Still " — and Baby's is next in honor, being
•''Ilin<^-^"ct vSawye K-Cotz-e."

Generations a<^o they first saw copper;
it came in bits on the wrecks of some
vessels. The people prized it more than
o;old ; it was the o^reatest of wonders to
them. No man could get enough skins
or blankets to pay for more than the least
little pieces of it. Thousands of blank^^ts
were required to pay for them, and their
<>reatest ambition was to <^et these bil..
to'^ether in a carvinof of the Cinnamon
F>ear's head, which would bind them strong-
ly tog(!ther and make one whole of the
many mites. This i;: the meaning of my
name, the Cinnamon Hear's head holdinir
together anc' making one priceless treas-
ure of these bits of copper.

I wish you could have seen them as they
told me of this, gathered in thai great dark
house with its hundreds of carved vessels
and boxes of blankets and oil, and every
other Indian treasure, their strong, earnest,
kindly features lighted up from within by
the love the}- h(jr*' me, and from without
by the great crackling, blazing fire in the

LIIE IN ALASKA.

middle of the room. They sat about it,
and I stood before them touched by this
demonstration. When they were throucrh,
I answered that my heart was full ; surely
they were my brothers. They had told me
the meaning of my name, and now I, the
first white woman that had ever borne it,
wished to tell them the new and even more
precious meaninor which I wished it to bear
henceforth. All the Chilcat people wc;re
to nie most priceless bits of copper. Their
bitterness had kept them apart : the bits
were owned by enemies. Now love was
brouL^ht, enouorh to buy them all. They
had made mc the great Cinnamon Bear's
head to bind all these precious pieces into
one. Now there should be no more pieces,
no more enemies, but all one, till at last
the " Nauk-y-stih," with all the bits of cop-
per which made it such a treasure, shniild
be borne to the great Chief above. I had
dear brothers at home ; while I was there
it was my thought always how I could do
them good. So now, to my Indian brothers,
came the ^ame thought, and because they
had shown their love for me I wanted to

LIFE IN ALASKA.

ask th(Mn, as brothers, to help \wv. do them
tlie jL^reatcst L,^ood I could think of now:
that was to put away that bad drink — a/l
had drinks ; they knew what it had done
for their villa^re and for their hom(!s.

God only knows how much of the seed
found a fruitful soil ; but oh, we have his
])romises, and we want to keep them close
to our hearts.

We came away on Monday loaded with
presents and the thanks of all the people.
They (.'ven said, "We believe your (iod
sent you here at that very hour to save us
from war and death ; the [)eople would not
fi^ht when they heard the minister was
comint;, and now they have heard better."

We stopped a few moments, without
leavin<^ our canoes, at the middle village.
I lere my new relatives had heard of my
''Teat name, and came out bearinof me
still other presents of dried-berry cake
and dried salmon.

It soon beL^an to rain and blow. The
waves tossed our canoe and the spray
dashed over us, wettini^ the entire crew.
Many times it seemed almost impossible

LIFE IN ^II.ASKA.

to reach the shore that (hiy ; hut we did,
and in safety.

It was too stormy to attempt crossiniL^
the bar that tlay ; so we took up our (piar-
ters in Dona-wok's house attain, where we
were shelteri.'d from much of the wind, even
thouirh the rain did come throuirh. We had
another deho;htful Httle meeting- there, and
next day reached home, where we found
all thini^^s safely kept for us.

We were tirc^d, but none of us sick; all
kept safe and well throuiL^h storm and s(!a
and war, and (iod nave us in^reat peace;.
We did not take the least cold — not even
Baby, who enjoyed the trip, in her way,
as much as any of us. And I assure you
we did enjoy it all ; even danj^cr was
robbed of its terror. . . .

September IS. — Don-a-wok has been here
to-day. He seemed sad, but we see great
reason for rejoicinor even in what seems to
be a trial to him, for he is standing- by his
principles like a man. It seems that the
bride which was to have been was willing
to come with him, and all her friends were
satisfied with the exception of one sister,

LIhE IN ALASKA.

who (l(!mancl(;(l a slave from Don-a-vvok.
Now, he had owned slaves, but some time
\v^o he, and Shat-e-ritch too, made them all
tree and paid thcMii ; so he refused to <^ive
a slav(' and lost his wife.

This trip to Sitka seems to have done
all the Indians u^ood. They saw the briofht
school there, old and youni^ learnini^'- to
rc^ad, and they tell us that it made them
ashamed. Mr. Willard assured them that
if they would only now come toij^ether and
set to work th(!y could have a school supe-
rior to that of Sitka, for they are a strontj^er
p(•opl(^ They seem anxious to do so.

l)on-a-wok is a chief of the Crows, hut
of the two lower villaij^es ; they have noth-
WY^ to do with the fii^htini^ in the upper-
most villai(e. Neither do the Crows of
Chilcoot, who are nlso very friendly to us,
and very peacc^iihle. I)on-a-wok claims
Mr. Willard as h- brother, and is cToina
to name him soon.

I for^j^ot to tell you the meaning of Baby's
nauK^ : it is " a mighty city',' where all the
people are exempt from sickness, sorrow
and poverty — all are ij^reat.

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23 WEST MAIN STREET

WEBSTER, N.Y. MSSO

(716) 872-4503

LIFE IN ALASKA.

While we were away we discovered some
needs ; one was a large hand-bell for call-
ing the people togedier. In lieu of it, Mr.
Willard and I made a tour of the villao^e,
taking it house by house, when we were
ready to have them come to meeting. Oh
how we wished for our flag !

Another need for our school, the Indian
room also, is maps of the United States
and of the world, also a globe, and an organ
for our church and school. The people are
very fond of music, and learn quickly the
tunes we have taught them word by word
and note by note, but you would hardly
recognize our old familiar hymns ; their
voices are so strong and they sing with
such a will that my voice makes no im-
pression at all. I cannot stem such a flood,
but an instrument would help this difficulty.
Our piano, of course, is for our house ; it
cannot be moved back and forth. Another
thing we must have : a mission canoe. We
have the largest mission field in Alaska,
and in many respects the most important.
We must go by canoes to reach the greater
number of our people. Go we must, and

LIFE IN ALASKA.

it costs us from five to ten dollars every
trip. Mr. Willard expects to go up this
winter by skates and snow-shoes, but as
soon as the river becomes naviofable attain
in the spring we expect to make the rounds
once a month. We already see good of
our first trip, and feel the importance of
this itinerating work. It must be done be-
fore we get the people in any great num-
bers to come to us. In time we trust that
this will become the great centre, but it will
be a long time, for the people have good
houses and are loth to leave them. Some,
indeed, are 7i(nv ready to come, but they
are a small minority, and there is so much
difficulty as yet about getting ready lumber.
It requires an enormous amount of labor to
build as they do.

September 26. — Still no steamer. We
have been in daily expectation of her ar-
rival for three weeks, but oh so thankful
that our Sabbaths were not broken in upon
by her coming ! We are having beautiful
weather again.

We have such good news from the up-
per village ! After vve left they began to

LIFE IN ALASKA.

make peace in earnest. The last cutting-
affray was promptly paid for in blankets ;
the wounded man, upon whose fate so
much hung in getting a settlement, is now
rapidly recovering.

The Crows took into their houses the
young man in whose house we held ser-
vice for the Whales, treating him to the
very best of everything they possessed,
having him both eat and sleep with them ;
and the Whales took into their homes, in
the same way, the great Crow terror, " The
Murderer." This is their way of express-
ing perfect satisfaction, confidence and
peace, and now the feasting and dancing
are going on. The lower villages have
joined them in this ; and if only molasses
(for the distillation of ardent spirits) can
be kept from them, we hope for a new era.
It will indeed be a new and blessed era
when the government makes it a crime
for men to sell death. They have promised,
many of them, to come down to us here
when the feasting is over.

We hope to be able to begin regular in-
door work and study by the ist of October.

I.IFR IN ALASKA.

We are exceedingly anxious to get the lan-
guage, there is so much we long to say
which we cannot get others to say for us.
Mr. Dickinson is a very, very kind friend
to us. His wife says she has told him to
go on and leave her here a while until we
learn to speak a little, but he will not con-
sent to do that, and Kittie is to go back to
the Home by the first safe opportunity ; so
that, in case they do go, we will be not only
the only whites, but the only persons in all
the Chilcat country who speak English.
We would not care if only we could
make these people understand our mes-
sage ; but it is God's work : he will not
suffer it to languish. . . .

To the Presbyterian Sabbath School in East
Springfield, Neu) York.

Chilcat Mission,

Haines, Alaska, October 24, 1881.

My Dear Friends: Three eventful
months have passed since our former let-
ter was written to you from Sitka, when
we knew but little more of our present
home and work than did you, so far away.

LIFE IN ALASKA.

Now we are domiciled, and almost as
much at home as thoucfh we had \n'.v.x\
born here, but oh how thankful that ours
was a more favored lot !

We spoke of Dr. Sheldon Jackson hav-
ing joined us at Sitka by the July st(;am(!r
from Portland, Oregon. May God bless
that good man, the true friend of mis-
sionaries and of Alaska !

In Fort Wrancrell and Sitka the mission-
aries are well housed in buildings erecKid
and occupied by the Russian governm(!nt
during their rule, but here in the Chilcat
country no white men had ever liv(rd (!X-
cept the trader who preceded us a few
months, the husband of our interpreter,
Mrs. Dickinson. When we left home, it
was with a knowledge of this fact, and
with the expectation of living in tents un-
til we could get out logs and put up such
a house as we could. Dr. Jackson made
this unnecessary by giving us the nettdcrd
help, and I have no doubt he saved the
life of one missionary.

In two weeks after our arrival here —
which was on the i8th of July — our friends

Lllli IN ALASKA.

Drs. Jackson and Corlics, with the three
carpenters, left us for Hoyd, where they
were to put up a schoc^l- and dwelHng-
house for Mr. and Mrs. Styles, who have
since taken charge of that mission among
the Hoonyahs. Mrs. Styles is the younger
daughter of Mr. Austin, of the Sitka mis-
sion, and was married on the 15th of Au-
gust last. Our hous<! was, of course, very
incomplete, but the frafne was up and the
roof on, the floor laid and some of the
doors hung ; so w(t came right into it and
went on with th(i work, carpentering, cabi-
net-making (for wij brought no furniture
with us save one chair, a little stand and
the stove), gardc;n-gn bing, tree-felling,
and stable-building from logs, quarters for
our goats (a pair of which we brought with
us from Sitka to supply our baby with milk),
cutting grass for th(i goats' winter food
with case- and pocket-knives (for a scythe
was overlooked in our outfit), receiving
the Indians who canur in to see the won-
derful things the minister had brought,
cutting garments for them and trying to
help their sick, preaching, etc., almost with-

I.U'l-: IN ALASKA.

out end, as it seems to us still, so busy are
we, and so much work yet to do before we
get down to even our appropriate labor.
With all this, we have made a tour of our
villages — four in number; and this brings
me back to the main subject.

Before leaving Sitka we intended to lo-
cate in the upjier village, thirty miles up
the Chilcat River, as it is the largest of the
four; but, finding that we could not get
the lumber up — for the river was low at
that time — we decided upon this as the
best point the district afforded, although
four and a half mihis from the nearest vil-
lage. Except a f(;w bark huts which the
Indians put up last winter, the only build-
ing besides our own is the trading-post.
If we could have spoken the language, we
would have gone to the upper village and
opened a school — for this winter, at least ;
but we have a year's hard work before us
in getting fixed up and studying the lan-
guage. It seems in many respects the
better plan to try to build a missionary
village here something after the plan of
Met-lah-kat-lah, in the British Possessions.

LIFE IN ALASKA.

In the first place, we secure those who are
most in earnest to hear and learn ; leav-
mg their old places and coming to us will
in itself be an uprooting for good.

In this way, too, we keep our work
largely free from the petty jealousies of
tribe and village chiefs, which, though they
be petty, are very strong. Had we gone
to any one of the villages, it would in the
eyes of all have been allying ourselves
with the chief of that place, and quite
enough to deter the proud people from
joining us, lest they be counted as his sub-
jects. As it is, this is the minister's place,
as they call it, and all are free to come
without compromising tribal relations.

The lower village, as the nearest of the
three on Chilcat River is called, is coming
over in a body to see us. They have been
very busy getting ready to come. Their
food is mostly gathered in the month of
September, and consists principally of dried
salmon, berries and salmon-oil. They have
some potatoes, too, which had to be dug
and housed. Now all is completed, we
hear, and they will soon be with us. The

LIFE LV ALASA'.t.

bulk of their provisions will be left until
heavy snowfall, when the people travel with
much greater ease on snow-shoes. Some
from each of the other villages have prom-
ised to come soon.

It is too late in the season now for them
to do much in the way of building ; we must
be content to have homes a matter of
growth. Perhaps some day there will be
a mission steamer in Alaskan waters which
will convey lumber from the mission mill to
mission villages for prices which will enable
the Indians to build comfortable houses.

We have word to-day that I)on-a-wok
has taken a wife, or rather a child who is
to be his wife in the course of time. Such
queer customs they have ! When a couple
are married, they adopt a boy and a girl
to train up in their own ways, to take their
place in the event of death. If the husband
dies first, the boy becomes husband to the
widow ; if the wife is taken first, the girl
takes her place. Thus we often see a
young boy with a decrepit wife, and old
men in their dotage sometimes have mere
child-wives. In case there is no such sue-

ces
c(!a

OIK

the

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mil

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the

th(

lie

Sh
lie
th(
or

'^^

ar
th

LIFE IN ALASKA.

lOI

ccssor provided lor, tlu; fr'uMuls of the de-
ceased partner ihiini the rii^ht to appoint
one from their own niunher. This was
the whole trouble, as we believe, in Don-a-
wok's case. His failure to secure the wife
he wanted from a strang-er-tribe was, no
doubt, the result of intrigue on the part
of his connexions here, who were deter-
mined to make him take his former wife's
nieces. They wished him to take two of
them, but he resolutely refused, saying- that
the minister did not like such marriages.
Me said it was wrong and he would not
do it, but he yielded so far as to take one
— a little girl about thirteen years old.
She is called his wife, and he has taken
her into his house to care for her, but
they will probably not be married for two
or three years. He is anxious to have her
go to school.

None of the maps of Alaska that we
have seen give any idea of the Chilcat
country. Linn Channel is shown, and we
are located at its head, where indenting
the western shore, is our little Portage Bay.
Just to the north is the mouth of Chilcoot

I02

/-//7t /jV ALASh'A.

River, which rises in a beautiful lake of
the same name about ten miles distant,
and near which is the Chilcoot village.
Chilcat River' is something over a mile to
the westward, and is a mile and a half wide.
It joins the channel about seven miles
south ; so that, while by trail or portage it
is but little more than four miles to the
lower Chilcat village it is more than fifteen
miles by water. The little peninsula formed
by this large river and the channel is the
largest level tract which we have seen in
Alaska, and is quite good soil. We hope in
time to make it a mission farm, and to in-
duce the Indians to raise more wholesome
food than they now use. There is good
ground enough to produce here bread and
beef for the entire present population of
the "thirty-mile strip."

While our immediate surroundings are
almost flat, the country generally is moun-
tainous and picturesque in the extreme.
When we came, in July, the whole penin-
sula was one mass of flowers and vines.
In places the vegetation was almost tropi-
cal for richness ; one's steps sank into the

A CIIILCAT MAN,

Front a Drawing by Mrs. Wiilard.

Tlie buckskin suit is trimiucd witJi fur ami quills. The narrow snow-shoe
is used in hunting and running, and ti.j broad one in packing.

/.//'/; fX A I. AS A' A.

105

wealth of mosses, and this though the sun
rose and set in ice, for the mountains which
cruard us on every hand are crowned with
"everlasting snow," some fifteen glaciers
bcine visible from our windows.

Our first snow-storm this fall came on
the 2 1 St of September. On the 26th of
that month ice formed in our barrel of
rain-water one-fourth of an inch in thick-
ness. So, you see, our climate here dif-
fers very much from that of Sitka or Wran-
gell. We are almost beyond the influence
of the Japan current.

Our school was opened on the 8th of
August, but, owing to the distance from
the villages and the fall-work of the peo-
ple, the attendance has been very small so
far — often not more than two or three ; but
these have been taught. One litde fellow,
whom we call Willis, is pardcularly bright
and faithful. He brings dried salmon
enoueh to do him throus^^h the week, and
sleeps in Mrs. Dickinson's wood-house.
Getting in the salmon is quite a festival
with the Indians, and at the close of the
season they have much feasting and dan-

io6

LIFE IN ALASA'A.

cing. When Willis went over to the village
for his week's provision, the people tried
to persuade him to stay and enjoy the fun
with his brothers, sisters and friends ; but
his answer, so firmly given, was, '* Why
should I stay here, where I learn only evil ?
I am going back to the minister's place,
where I can hear good ;" and the little
fellow has resolutely adhered to his pur-
pose. He is only ten or eleven years old,
can read easy English lessons and recites
all the tract primer catechism. One other
little boy — Mark, son of one of the suc-
ceeding chiefs — has learned the letters
also ; we have promised them each a book
when we can get them. We had hoped
to be able to give them some sort of a
pleasant Christmas ; I still hope we shall
make it a pleasant and profitable day, al-
though we have no presents for them.

Mr. Willard has preached twice every
Sabbath, besides our preaching- tour to the
villages and the occasions when we caught
a company through the week, and always
to attentive, often to eager, listeners.

We are seeing already a few triumphs

IJFE IN ALASKA.

107

over witchcraft and the power of the
medicine-men, and have had some pre-
cious bits of encouragement. First a man
came in with much eagerness and earnest-
ness, saying that he had started off in his
canoe to hunt mountain-sheep ; when he
had gone some distance, the Httle boat
turned over and he lost his gun. He
wanted us to pray that he might recover
it again. Mr. Willard explained to him
the nature of prayer and miracle, and
that he rnust not expect God to cause the
water to throw up the weapon, but that he
would ask him to give him strength and
wisdom to find it. The man said he did
not expect a miracle, but he wanted God's
help, that when the tide was out and the
water low he mieht see it and get it up.
Soon after, a young man came to ask
the minister to pray that God would turn
the heart of the woman he loved so that
she would marry him, for he loved her so
that if she did not marry him he did not
know what he would do with himself, and
he thought God would turn her heart right
that day. We told him that we would ask

io8

LIFR IN ALASKA.

God to do SO if he saw that it would be
best, but we could not tell if it would be; so.
I explained to him that my baby mi^^du cry
for the pretty coals in the stove, but I, be-
ing wiser than she, would not giv(; harm
to the child I loved even thouj^h she did
cry for it, so God might see that what he
wished for so much would not make him
happy at all.

Afterward a poor man from Chilcoot
came to us in great distress: his little; son
was dying, and he wanted us to ask (iod
to spare his life and make him well. He
wanted us also to oive him somet food and
clothing to put out for the use of tlu! sjMrit
should he die. They believe in another
life and another world, but that b(;tween
this world and that lies a great distance ;
much land, then a great green water of
which no one can drink. When a gf)od
spirit at last reaches the shore of this
water, the inhabitants of the good world
come with canoe and bear him over, while
the very wicked are doomed never to cross.
When a person dies, if the body is bunutd,
the spirit passes with comfortable warmth

IJl'l', IN ALASKA.

109

through the inU;rv(:nin^ space, and that it
may have every comfort on the long journey
they put out or Inirn with the body both
food and clothing. A person who dies by
drowning is for civer cold and unhappy.

After exphiining to the poor father the
true way and showing him the error of his
beUefs, we knelt down with him and the
Indians he haul l^rought with him and
prayed. Some days after, he came again ;
and I never saw a greater change in any
one's ap[)earaiu;e in so short a time. He
bounded into the house Hke a boy, so full
of life that it se(;med impossible to walk,
while his face was full of joy. His first
words were, " It's all true about your God ;
my child is betK^r." Then he told us of
how, when he W(;nt from here that day,
the people were all crying and mourning
for the child's death. The Indian doctors
had said that he would not get well — could
not live ; and thcry all thought him dead
already, he had ho long lain in that stupor ;
but he — oh how he prayed to our God to
spare that child ! At last a woman came
in and said the child was not dead, and by

I 10

LIFE IN ALASKA.

and by, after a long time, the boy came to
himself, looked about and spoke. And
now he was ^v.\X\x\'^ well, and just as soon
as he was well enough they were coming
to the minister's place to live, so that they
could go to school and learn more. He
said that they believed no more in the In-
dian doctor ; they had paid him ten blank-
ets (thirty dollars) for nothing — a sore re-
flection to an Indian, I assure you, espe-
cially a Chilcat ; for they are shrewd — very
shrewd — at a bargain.

Let me give you an instance of their
shrewdness. This afternoon a man came
in with three ducks and laid them down
with an innocent air, saying he bought
them for a present, then, as is their cus-
tom, sat down and waited for his pay-pres-
ent. Mr. Willard gave him the exact price
of the fowls, and the man, upon learning
how much it was, smiled and took his de-
parture. When I came to un feather the
birds, I found but one fit to use. The fel-
low knew that a present we could not re-
fuse and he would be sure of his pay,
whereas, if he had brought them to sell,

LIFE IN ALASKA.

Ill

we would surely have discovered die qual-
ity of die goods and bade him begone. It
is a custom we have seemed obliged to ob-
serve so far.

We need your prayers, dear friends,
more than you can imagine or than we
can tell you, for wisdom, love, padence
and strength, for the good work here, and
for the Holy Spirit's presence and blessing.

Carrie M. Willard.

Chii.cat Mission Manse,

Hainks, Alaska, October 28, 1881.

My Dear Friends: We have given up
the steamer until next spring, but we know
that He who careth for the sparrows knows
and cares for all our needs. We shall not

want. . . .

October 50.— What do you think I have
to write to-night ? Didn't I say we had the
Lord's pro'^Mse and it would not fail ? Just
when I didn't know what to put in my baby's
mouth we looked out and beheld the steamer
Favorite entering our litde bay. This was
about eleven o'clock this morning.

The steamer did not bring our piano —

112

LIFE IN ALASKA,

too heavy, the officers said — so it is in Sit-
ka. But oh ! oh ! oh ! the splendid mail
they brought and did give us to-day —
" three bags full ; one for the master, one
for the dame," etc. We have been read-
ing and reading till we are so full of every
feeling that it is very difficult to get any
of it into action. And the yeast came,
for which I am thankful. I did not brinir
any with me ; it was not dry enough, and
was to be sent by mail afterward. We
have gotten along very well, but now we
will have some good bread, and I think
there will be some butter in the freight.
The gingham came, and such a treasure
in books ! Exactly the kind we had wished
for, but did not hope to get. Oh, so many
thanks to everybody! If our friends at
home only knew how welcome are their
letters and their tokens of lovinof thou^^ht-
fulness when received here in our loneli-
ness, they would feel rewarded for send-
ing them to us. . . .

The Indians make their fish-oil in their
canoes in the following manner: The ca-
noes are half buried in the earth and filled

LU'E IN ALASKA.

with fish and water. Alongside, stones are
built up like an altar, under which a roar-
ini^ fire is kept until they become red hot,
when they are dropped into the canoe.
The fish are boiled in this way to a jelly,
then allowed to stand. Much of the oil
rises, and is skimmed off; the rest is rolled
in matting, placed on a frame over the canoe
and pressed by the bare feet of the women.

This oil is a very highly-esteemed article
of food among the Indians. They use it
for dipping their dried salmon into, and
also preserve a certain red berry in it. An
Indian is happy with a large horn spoon
and a washbowl of berries in oil before
him. How they slip down without chok-
ing him is wonderful. His spoon holds a
dipperful, and with a peculiar grace he
raises it to his lips, and in an instant the
contents have disappeared, scarcely dis-
turbing a muscle.

Monday, Novetnber 1. — We had about sev-
enty Indians at service yesterday. Thurs-
day Mr. Willard had taken one of the med-
icine-men and a chief to his study, where
we keep the sewing-machine, and explained

114

LIFE IN ALASKA.

its workino^s to them. We have been com-
ing into closer and closer contact with thcMii,
and gradually but surely approaching con-
llict. We knew it would come sooner or
lat(!r — just as soon as they felt our power
gaining the ascendency over theirs with
the people. Just what sort of a conflict
it might be we could not forecast. The
Lord is ordering it all, and there is no
ground for fear. We rejoice and praise
God it has come so soon, for it certainly
shows that the Spirit is working.

I have spoken before of the sick being
brought to us. There has been a great
deal of sickness among the people this
fall. Some have died, but, thanks be to
God ! not one of the many we have seen
and tended.

During the past week our hands and
hearts have been more than full, the peo-
ple coming in from all the villages with
their sick and dying in canoes, saying that
they had heard of the true God and no
longer believed in the Indian doctors,
others saying they had given the med-
icine-men everything they had and were

LIFE IN ALASKA.

115

SO poor that no blanket remained to cover
the dyinj^ child.

Friday one poor woman, among others,
brought to us her baby of three years. It
had been sick for a year and was a living
skeleton. I never felt so sick at heart over
any human being as over that litde burn-
ing-eyed creature who, in only a little cal-
ico shirt on a chilling, wet day, moaning
at every ''>reath and literally dying, was car-
ried t'^ dt; The mother told us the sad story
— how they had given ever/thing, dishes,
blankets and all ; how the medicine-men
had sung and rattled and charmed, eating
fire, etc., but all to no purpose. With tears
she said, " Oh, help me, help me ! My chil-
dren are all I have." I worked with the
little one all afternoon, and it seemed bet-
ter, and is still so.

There were many others, but I must tell
you of only one. Yesterday morning. Sab-
bath, among the group of patients waiting
in the kitchen was a woman who begged
me to come and see her little boy, who was
dying. After disposing of the rest and get-
ting the house righted, I left Baby with papa

ii6

LIFE IN^ ALASKA.

(who afterward took her to church with
him, where I joined them) and followed the
woman, taking with me what I had in the
house that might be necessary. But I had
nothing for proper food for the child. We
had tried to buy oatmeal at the store when
ours failed, but they would not sell it. I
found the child in what seemed to me to be
a dying condition — unable to move, with
cold limbs and hot head, the only action
apparent in the little body b(*ing the spas
modic jumping of the throat and upper part
of the chest and the rolling of the eyes. I
had them give me blankets and put on
water to heat ; then got brandy and went
to work. I found that the child had taken
no food for ten days, and immediately I de-
spatched a messenger to the store saying
that they must sell or give me some oat-
meal and condensed milk. I would take
no refusal ; they must do it. I soon had
the pleasure of feeding the famished child
(who had already given a sensibh* look)
some milk, and in a little while some gruel.
Seeing him in a better condition, I left him
and went to church with my sunbonnet and

LIFE IN ALASKA.

117

\:i\(^ apron on and led the singing. After put-
ting Baby to sleep, and with dinner over, I
lay down for half an hour and went back, find-
ing him no better, if not worse, than he was
in the morning. The doctors had been in
talking to them, saying all manner of things
— tint all their dreams said the child would
die, elc. ; that if he got well they would cut
off their hair and do nothing more ; that
they would believe in God if he showed
himself so strong as to heal that boy.
You may be sure w^ith this double motive
I worked and prayed, and at bedtime, when
I left him again, he was much better. After
taking the medicine I had left him he rested,
slept through much of the night, and this
morning is perhaps a little better, but still
very sick indeed. I do not know how it is
going. I can only do my best and trust
that the Lord who reigns will order all
things for his own glory. I will believe
that, however it is, it will somehow be for
his praise, and in that I shall be more! than
satisfied.

Yesterday the doctor's wife followed me
into the hou^:e of the sick child, and sat

ii8

LIFE /:: ALASKA.

near the door constantly making sneering
remarks; and this mornino- her husband
came out as I passed his house and com-
menced talking at a tremendous rate, ges-
ticulating and speaking '^ngrily till he got
so close to me as to shake his fist within two
inches of my face. I am not afraid of him,
nor of all of them ; as long as there are
sick whom I can benefit I shall do my duty
without a thought of the poor old doctors,
except to hope and pray that they may be
convinced and converted. May that day
come soon ! One of the doctors is here
now to get me to do something for him.
I have been having a talk with him.

Our freight has been gotten into the
house in good order from the boat this
morning.

But now, with very, very much love to
all, I must close. The boat leaves us
soon. Carrie M. Willard.

CniLCAT Mission Mansk,

IIainrs, Alaska, November 30, 1881.

My Dear Friends : You can scarcely re-
alize how those few words of yours in re-

LIFE IN ALASKA.

119

o^ard to the increase of zeal for missions
among the people at home strengthened
and helped us. We have very much to
encourage us, and cause for rejoicing with
thanksgiving ; yet there are times when it
is very hard to keep only these things be-
fore us. Again and again we are obliged
to force upon ourselves the realization of
the fact that it is not for man — ungrate-
ful, treacherous man — that we labor, but for
Him who did and suffered all things for us
all ; and to know that Christians at home
are working and praying for the coming
of his kinLrdom into all these dark hearts
makes it easier to go on. Such sympa-
thy is very sweet.

There has been a great deal of sickness
among our people this fall — a terrible erup-
tive disease much like small-pox, though
not fatal. A number of deaths occurred,
however, before the people began to come
to us to build ; and since they came, bring-
inir their sick with them in canoes four
deaths have taken place, but we have the
infinite joy of believing that all are saved
and happy souls to-day. They were two

I20

LIFR IN ALASKA.

little babes, a young woman and a dear lit-
tle boy — the one I wrote you of in my last
letter as beincr ill. I was amon^r the sick
almost day and night for a while, particu-
larly with this little boy, who died, and with
a woman, who has recovered ; and after it
became impossible for me to go to the vil-
lage, the children, such as could be carried,
were broucfht to the house. For one of
the dear little babies who had died first I
had done a great deal, and I hoped it would
get well ; but oh, it is such unequal warfare,
this battlincr with death in such " stroncr
houses " as these people have, wind, snow
or smoke constantly present.

I cannot tell you what I felt when these
children died ; that their lives should be
spared seemed almost essential to the
success of our work here. You know how
the case stood, after Mr. Willard's preach-
ing against their witchcraft and evil super-
stitions on Sunday, and then bringing party
after party — medicine- men, chiefs and peo-
ple — into our house and showing them the
machinery of sewing-machine and clock,
tellinQ: them of the more intricate machin-

IJFR IN A I. A SKA.

121

ery of the human body, askinor them if
they thought witches were in those w^heels
because they accomphshed such wonderful
things or if they failed to accomplish them,
showing them the absurdity of their believ-
ing that because the wonderful body got
out of order in iheir iornorant hands some
one had bewitched it. If some dirt got
into the fine wheels of a watch, did they
think that all the medicine-men in Chilcat
could charm it into running-order without
removing that obstruction ? How much
less power could they have over the hu-
man body ! After this, I say, many of them
believed no more in the Indian doctors'
ways, and, not knowing what else to do,
brou<jht their sick to us. Of course the doc-
tors were enraged at the loss oi their gains,
and predicted that our patients would die.
We worked with an almost agonizing zeal,
and felt as though they must not die. Af-
ter many days and sad nights of anxious
working, watching and praying, when it
seemed as though a feather's weight might
turn the balance, it was turned: the child
began to recover rapidly for some time, re-

122

I.IFR IN ALASKA.

gaining appetite and strength. ThcMi 1 was
not able to go any more, and \\\v.y tore out
an end of the unfinished iiouse wh(;re the
sick boy lay, to enlarge it, and the next
thing I heard was that he was wors(;, then
dead. I felt stunned ; I could not believe
it. I had felt so sure that he would get
well. I could not say a word ; it .seemed
as though everything that had been accom-
plished would now be lost ; and yet 1 could
not a moment doubt God's sovereignty or
his wisdom or his love. I must just be still,
knowing that he was God ; and in that dark
hour, when it seemed that all was lost, i
learned, I think, the lesson he meant to
teach — that to him nothing human is neces-
sary.

We had heard before that in case the
boy died his parents would hide it from
us, for they meant to burn thci body. We
e pected that the medicine-men would, to
^e best of their ability, inflame the people
against us, but, instead of all this, the pa-
rents came to us in the burden of their
grief, telling us of the happy d(!parture of
the little spirit and that they were not near-

I.ni- IN ALASKA.

123

ly so " sick in tlnrir hearts," because they
were sure that he had gone to be with
Jesus. Not on<j word of reproach, even,
where we had <;xpect(!d savage charges
and demands U)X "satisfaction"! They
told us of his Uilk, his prayers and his low,
weak singing of the hymns he loved, dying
with the swectt hnes on his lips.

When they were bringing him from the
lower villagt* in a canoe, he said to them,

" Tell me junt an soon as you see the
place."

When they tiirn(rd into the bay, they told
him.

" Raise me up," he said.

They raised him up, and he looked long
and earnestly toward the shore, his eyes
fixed on the mission buildings.

" Yes," said he, *• there it is — the minis-
ter's house ; now we are going to pray
there."

Day after tlay h(; plead to be carried to
the schoolhoiiscr, but he was not fit to be
moved. More esjiecially on Sabbath, when
the bell rang for chtirch, he would beg them
to take him to jvrar about God ; but, as he

124

I.lhi: /N ALASK'A.

could not j^o himself, he would pray and
sing. Wc oftc-n had little meetings in the
house for him.

One day, when the bell rang for church,
his mother, overcome by her feelings for
the child, began to cry. He asked her
the cause.

" Oh, that you can't go with the other
children."

Tenderly he told her that she must not
cry any more for him this way ; it was not
right.

Because he was a Christian, they wanted
to have him buric^d like a Christian ; so on
Sabbath the little body was borne to the
schoolhouse which he had so longed to
enter. Mr. Willard preached on the res-
urrection of the body and the joy of those
who die in the Lord. The people seemed
profoundly impressed, and all things were
done decently and in order.

It is their custom, after the death of
friends, utterly to neglect their own per-
sons, to eat nothing for days, to paint their
faces black, to cut their hair close, and to
wear the dirtiest clothing they possess ; but

LIFE IN ALASKA.

125

this mother came to the funeral with clean
face and dress, and only wept like a Chris-
tian.

Many of the people say that they do not
wish to burn any more of their dead; they
believe in the Christian way. We did not
insist on this, and, indeed, had said very lit-
tle about it; but we prefer to have them
btiry the bodies of their dead, because they
cannot do so without disregarding^ their old
superstitions, for their old belief is that the
spirit whose body is not burned suffers an
eternity of cold.

This was not our first funeral ; the first
was when the litde baby died. The mother
came to me broken-hearted. She had four
children, and this was the first death. Her
heart seemed to have been won through what
we had tried to do for the little one, and she
wanted to know what she ought to do.
The old people talked terribly about
burying, and the grandmother gave her
no peace at all, saying the child should
be burned ; but the mother wanted to do
as we said. I sat down and talked with
her, explaining to her what the Bible tells

126

LIFE IN ALASKA.

US of life and death. She then said that
she wanted to have it buried, but her friends
did not, and she could not tell them all ;
she wished the minister would talk to them.
So they were called together, and Mr. Wil-
lard gave them a long plain talk ; and they
said at last that for their " mother Nauk-y-
stih's sake " they would bury the child if
we would show them how. Mr. Willard
made a little coffin, and we covered it with
white. I made a little shroud for the child,
and had them bring it to me to dress and
put in the box. It was already prepared
as they prepare the corpse — the little face
all covered with vermilion, mittens on the
hands, the knees drawn up and tied against
the body. In the sight of the people I
washed the paint from its face, smoothed
the hair and put on the little dress. It was
snowing when they laid the little one away,
and it seemed as though the parents' hearts
would break. It was the first breaking of
their old-time customs made dear through
generations.

The old grandmother had not given up,
and she made them suffer almost every-

LIFE IN ALASKA.

127

thing at home with her revilings. Several
times it seemed as though they must yet
take up the body and burn it, but God sent
them at such times to us, and gave us, for
them, the comfort and strengthening which
they needed; and to-day we feel more hope-
ful of their salvation than of that of any
other family of our people.

Mr. Willard hopes to form a class for
the special instruction of those who think
they really desire to be Christians. We
ask the special and earnest prayers of our
dear friends at home for God's blessing in
this. We think there are a few who are
trying to do the right as far as they know
it, but they are utter babes in knowl-
edge. . . . Carrie M. Willard.

Chilcat Mission Mansk,

Haines, Alaska, December 13, 1881.

My Dear Friends : I did not tell you in
my last letter what had been done by the
man-of-war. This time the Wachusette was
commanded by Captain Henry Glass. He
called for the head-men to come to him ;
only two of the higher chiefs he invited into

128

LIFE IN ALASKA.

the cabin. He gave them nothinj^ but a
sound and forcible exposition of the law:
I. That he would punish any one who
made, sold or introduced any intoxicating,^
drink, or anythino;^ to make it of. 2. That
if they had any fighting", if any one was
kill(.-d, he would be here immediately ; the
r.uirderer would be seized, taken below in
irons and tried ; if proved guilty, he would
be hanged as any white man would be.
3. If they harmed die whites who came
among them, he would storm their village;
and blockade their river. He then showed
them what the big guns were made of by
firing quite a nvmiber of balls and bomb-
shells, which shook our house, although
sent in an opposite direction ; and the big
braves didn't laugh any more.

Another little child has been called away
from our village — one who had been sick
for a year or more — and this morning its
body was burned ; this was the second cre-
mation since our coming.

While we Avere at breakfast, Esther, the
mother of the little boy of whom I wrote
you as having been buried from the church,

IJI'E IN ALASKA.

129

came in lookin(T very sad and sayinj^ that
her heart was sick ; that ever since her ht-
tle boy had been put in the ground the In-
dians had troubled her so that slie could
neither eat nor sleep, taunting her in every
way, saying,

"Ah! you are the minister's friends.
Oh yes ! you are white people. Why do
you live here ? Why do you eat Indian
food ? Yes, a minister you are."

Then they had tried in every way to in-
duce her to have the body disinterred and
burned. This morning, before they started
to the burning, the people crowded into her
house and besieged her with new force. At
last Esther's mother (and this is so remark-
able, because, as a rule, the old people are
obstinate and tied to their old superstitions,
and therefore very hard to bring to accept
new ways) said to them,

" No, we will not do it. As for me, I
have only just begun to learn about God,
but I want to believe in him with all my
heart. I want to go to him and to my
grandchild when I die. And I want to tell

you all now that when I die I don't w^ant

130

IJFE IN ALASKA.

you to burn my body ; I want to be
buried."

Then Esther made a similar declaration,
and Chief Don-a-wok — Esther's uncle —
told them that he wanted them all to re-
member, too, that his body was not to be
burned when he died ; he wanted the min-
ister to attend to it all and bury him.

After this the people left the house, but
Esther's heart was so sick that she felt as
if she would die. Her mother told her to
put on her blanket and go up to the min-
ister's ; so she came, though she hadn't
wanted to come for a long time becctuse
the people talked so. She fears that she
is not going to live long, and she wanted
to ask us to be sure to bury her and take
care of her little boy, the only child left her.
She could not bear to think of having him
grow up among the Indian.-> if she had to
leave him. I had a lontj comfortinor talk
with her and kept her here all day, engag-
ing her on a little sewing which I gave her
for herself, and to-night she went home a
quite cheerful woman. It seemed to en-
courage her when I told her what martyrs

LIFE IN ALASKA.

131

had suffered for Christ's sake, and what he
promises to all who endure persecution
from love to him.

Mr. Willard witnessed the doctors' dance
one ni^ht some time aoo. It is a sort of
exorcism. Almost all sickness with the
Indians is reorarded as the result of witch-
craft. The medicine-man is called, and
for ten blankets (their medium of ijx-
chancre, and worth from three to four dol-
lars apiece) he will scatter the evil spirits.
If they are obstinate and the person dies,
he accuses some one of having bewitched
die dead man, and for certain other blank-
ets will tell by divination who the witch is.
The latter is then taken, and, with his feet
tied together and his hands tied behind his
back, is shut up with the corpse and either
burned with it or left to starve to deatii, un-
less there are relatives rich enough to pay
for the exorcism of the evil spirit. Since
we have been here this has never gone so
far as a pointing out of the witch, and it
is not likely to go farther now, so long as
the man of-war supports us, as at pres-
ent.

132

LIFE IN ALASKA.

You have read a description in Dr. Jack-
son's Alask-i of the medicine- men and how
they are educated. They all (so far as I
have observed, and there are about ten in
the Chilcat tribe) have a most peculiar, cun-
ning, and yet weird, expression. Th(iy are
hollow-eyed, but the pupil protrudes and
rolls, and there is a keenness, a furtiveness,
about them that is most unpleasant. Since
the death of the litde boy referred to in a
former letter, these servants of Satan have
been doing their master's work with a will,
but the event which they thus take advan-
taore of has not been without ijood results.
Had God restored to health and life every
one whom we tried to help, it would have
been almost impossible for this ignorant
people to give all the glory to God ; we
could hardly have convinced them that we
had no miraculous gift. More and more
they would have pressed upon us and have
professed faith for the sake of this material
life. We foresaw something of this dan-
ger then, this materializing of the spiritual,
but not as clearly as the Lord has now
brought us to see it. There are not nearly

LIFE IN ALASK^i,

133

SO many who call upon God, but those who
do seem to come up to a higher plane than
before ; they see something beyond this
lif^ ; so in all our trials we know that God
rci'Tns and it must be best.

1 kine of these medicine-men, how-

ever, I must not omit one sign of hope for
which we have to be thankful. A litde
daughter (four or five years of age) of
him whom we consider the worst man
among them was born with curly hair; so
of course she was desdned to the profes-
sion, and her hair left uncut, uncombed, to
become a matted, repulsive mass like her
father's, wh^': ~:he Vv^as adorned with neck-
lace of te; y r-:x\ charms of green stone.
I so well rem .Tiller the first time I saw
her. It was on a Sabbath, while Dr. Shel-
don Jackson was here. She walked along
from church just before us ; her beautiful
iitne child-face in the mass of unkempt hair
struck m* vith a sudden pity for the price-
less soul); ^1 hMden in that neglected lit-
de body, and I exclaimed,

" Oh how fearful that she should be
destined to such a life !"

134

LIFE IN ALASKA.

Dr. Jackson quietly made answer,

" Let us hope she may be converted
before that."

The words came \vi 'ebuke to my
weak faith.

Some weeks ago that child came to
church neat and clean, and — will you be-
lieve it? — that sacred matted mass of hair
lay on her head in smooth braids ; so now
she can never be a medicine-woman, but
we pray that she may be a Christian
woman.

One of the Indian doctors told us the
other day that if we would give him some
new clothes he would cut off his hair.

December I4. — The Chilcats are a supe-
rior race to the plain- Indians, and are the
strongest people, and this district the larg-
est under the care of any missionary, in
Alaska. It is not one village, as in the
case of the other stations, but four with-
in a radius of thirty miles. . . . We feel
the urgent need of industries in which the
people can engage. They are willing and
anxious to work, but we have so little for
them to do, and so little means with which

LIFE IN ALASKA.

135

to pay them. We hope fish-canneries may
be estabHshed on our rivers; these would
furnish employment for a great many of
them, and thus provide them w^ith means
of sustenance.

We expect and dread the coming of mi-
ners in the spring. Some prospectors took
several hundreds of dollars' worth of gold
down last fall, and we hear that many oth-
ers are coming up. The mines at Juneau
(the recently established post-office at Ta-
koo) are something like seventy-five miles
below us. About thirty thousand dollars'
worth of gold-dust was taken from there
last season. . . .

There is good tillable land here, and we
have perhaps an acre grubbed out where
we hope to make a garden in the spring.
We mean to try raising everything desir-
able, if seeds and slips come in time. . . .

December 28. — On last Friday evening a
little rowboat arrived from Juneau with two
naturalist , from Berlin — Dr. Aurel and Dr.
Arthur Krause — who intend to study here
until spring, boarding at the trader's. The
gentlemen brought a package of mail, which

136

LIFE IN ALASKA.

they offered with evident pleasure for our
Christmas gift. It proved \.<) hi', the Sitka
mail for San Francisco, whitlu:r ours may
have been sent by mistake ; so we had no
letters, but we had a very pleasant Christ-
mas, with many thoughts of the loved
ones at home. I had work (enough, you
may be sure, in providing, from my brain,
my wardrobe and my scrap-bag, pres(;nts
for sixty-nine schoolboys and girls and wo-
men. We graded them all by the number
of days they had been in attcMidance, and
had something for each one. I would like
to tell all about the tree, but cannot now.

The gentlemen brought somr; cotton-
jeans for pants for the boys; the litde
fellows come to school through thf- snow
with nothing on bit cotton shirts, the snow
sometimes stained by their bleeding feet.
The snow is waist-deep on the men, who
have to travel on snow-shoes. .Sabbath
before last I went to meeting by a path
walled with the crystal snow as high as my
head. It has snowed much since, and lies
piled up against our windows. . . .

CaKKIK M. WllJ.AkD.

1,11'li IN ALASKA.

137

To the Sahhalk^ School of the Presbyterian
Church of liast Springfield, New York.

i.'M\\t s'\ MCisioN Manse,

Wss^r-,, Ar,ASKA, Januaiy 23 and 30, 1882.

Dear Fkiksm^h: The close of our third
quarter in Alaska finds us with not a few
tokens of Ciod's pleasure in our work.
We are mont and more enjoying it, and
more and wvm', its peculiarities and needs
open up to us.

You have anked us to tell you of these
needs, an<l in this letter I will gladly do
so, hoping that somewhere the Master
may sdll have Htevvards holding talents which
they long to put out to usury. There seems
to us no place in the great world where a
higher rat(! of interest could be derived for
the Lord,

Do you remc^mber on what a long, long
day our first lettc^r was written you in June?
Now we have had the other extreme — a
night long enough for the veriest litde
sleepyhead, the sun rising near eleven
o'clock A.M„and our lamps being lighted
at three v. M.

During mont of the winter thus far the

138

LIFF IN ALASKA.

snow has been about four feet deep ; it is
near six feet now, yet the people go about
easily on snow-shoes, which are made of
very light and gracefully-shaped wooden
frames woven across v^ith thongs, exactly
as cane is woven into chairs at home, and
which are kept in place on the foot by means
of the straj) which passes from across the
toes back and around the ankles.

On Friday evening of last v^^eek we were
delighted by the arrival of a canoe from
Juneau, which brought us a few precious
letters written in October and November.
The canoe that brought the letters was
that of the parents of the little girl whom
Chief I)on-a-wok had been almost com-
pelled to take for wife. It came bringing
him presents, but some time ago the child
had left his I.ouse and had gone to her
aunt's, wh(;re she remained. We had
a long talk with Don-a-wok before she
left, showing him how wrong and how
fruitful of evil such marriages are. He
seemed to realize it, and said that it had
not been his wish at all, that the child was
very unhappy, crying continually, but that,

IJI'E IN ALASKA.

139

according; to their customs, he could not
send her away ; if her parents would take
her back when they found how unhappy
she was, he would be glad. However,
she took the matter into her own hands
and ran away.

When her parents learned this on arriv-
ing here, they were greatly mortified and
incensed against Don-a-wok. They came
to us before emptying their vials of wrath
on their son-in-law, and God gave us such
success with them that they seemed to
see it all in a new and true light, and gave
up having a quarrel. I think they will take
her back to Sitka and send her to school.
We tried to prevail upon them to send her
to the Home at Wrangell, but fear they
will not.

Mr. Willard returned a few days ago
from a tour among the villages. Two
weeks ago he started by canoe for Chil-
coot, but, getting caught in the floating ice
from the large glaciers on the way, in
which he and the man with him worked
for their lives for an hour or two, he was
obliged to give up the journey ; and, turning

I40

LIFE IN ALASKA.

into the fishing-village of Te-nany, he came
home the same evening. But on the Chil-
cat River he was gone a little over a week,
holding school in the upper villages. He
went on snow-shoes and skates. In the
mean time I stayed here at home with just
my baby Carrie and the little Indian girl
Kittie for company, holding daily court,
and the service on Sabbath. It occurred
to me that to home-friends it would seem
a little startling if they knew that I sat
night after night in a sense alone, the large
windows of the sitting-room — without blinds
— frequently revealing the dusky faces of
those who wished to come in ; but then, as
at all times here, there was a sweet and
peculiar assurance of safety — no dread, no
fear of evil. God is our keeper.

The greatest burden which falls upon
me in my husband's absence is the care
of the people — the responsibility of decid-
ing, alone, matters which might among
white people be trivial enough ; but with
this people, where there are so many com-
plications of the family and tribal relations,
together with ancient customs and super-

LIFE IiW ALASKA.

141

stitions, a very small matter often becomes
very <^reat in its consecjuences. We need
more than man's wisdom ; and please let
this be amoni^ your petitions to God for
us — that he will give such wisdom as we
need for his glory in this place.

We were besietred, as usual, for medicine
and comforts for the sick. An old woman
died and was cremated, whereupon Cla-not,
the young second chief here, called the peo-
ple together for a general peacemaking.
On the Sabbath evening before Mr. Wil-
lard went away he had spoken to the peo-
ple on peace and brodierly love. Four
years ago (though on the occasion of
preaching that sermon he knew nothing
of this bit of history) an old woman was
charged with having bewitched a young
man. Her son was so ashamed that he
killed his mother. Custom required peace-
payment to be made for her murder to her
brother, althou^fh it was he who accused
her of witchcraft, but it had never been
done; and the tribes were enemies in
the same village, not enterinof each other's
houses. When this death occurred, while

142

LIFE IN ALASKA.

my husband was away, Cla-not, as I said,
called these tribes to^-ether and rehearsed
this old story, then said,

"You all know what the minister talkc^d
to us about last Sunday, and I have called
you here to make that peace ; and we must
make it to-nii^ht, for we don't know what
to-nii^ht or to-morrow may brini^" — so
nearly the scriptural phrase, though 1
think it had not been used in the sermon
at all.

Well, they made peace, Cla-not himself
payini^ the necessary blankets.

I had this good news to tell the mission-
ary when he returned so weary that dark
night from his long, hard tramp through
wind and rain and knee-deep slush. And
he had much to tell me of hard but joy-
ful work, of the people's evident joy at his
coming and of how kindly they had treated
him ; of the acquisition, also, of several new
Kling-get phrases, for he went without an
interpreter. Four of the head-men and
several others came down with him to
trade. Old Shat-e-ritch, the head-chi(,'f,
stayed with us ; we invited them all to

LIFE //V ALASKA.

143

Stay over Sabbath, and they ^hidly con-
sented.

The ni^ht after they came down Cla-not's
peace was broken : he had insulted a pow-
erful man of his own tribe last fall, who in
turn threatened to kill him, l)ut afterward
repented; and when Cla-not had inaugu-
rated peacemaking this man, called Skoo-
kun 'strong") jim, bought white man's
food at the store and called Cla-not to a
feast of peace at which he would pay
blankets for his angry threat. Cla-not,
who is naturally violent and headstrong,
would not accept his overtures, whereupon
Cla-not's life was ai^ain threatened, and war
seemed imminent. To make matters worse
and the trouble general, Cla-not quarreled
with his wives (who are mother and daugh-
ter), and they left his house. They are
of the Sitka people, and if peace had not
been restored before the arrival, on the
second day after, of the Sitka chief and the
parents of Don-a-wok's wife (who were of
the same tribe as the unhappy wives of
Cla-not, while Don-a-wok is his uncle), I
fear we should not have been able to stay

144

LIFE IN ALASKA.

1*1. ■. ■ ■/ 'i

the flood ; the complications were many
and of such a character as would have in-
volved the whole Chilcat country and the
Sitka people.

This IS a good example of the sort of
work we have here ; he who gives us most
cause for rejoicing to-day is our heaviest
trial to-morrow, and, ! thank God ! some-
times it is vice versa.

After much prayer we sent for Cla-not.
He returned answer that he was busy, but
late i'^ the evening he came with a heavy,
dogged expression on his blackened face.
Shakinor hands with him — atrainst his will,
apparently — we had him sit down, and Mr.
Willard beiran to tell him of how he was
the first Chilcat he had ever heard of, and
that It was in answer to his recpiest for a
missionary (as published in Dr. Jackson's
book) that we came here , then of how
glad he had made us by his prompt peace-
making. Now we had heard he was in
trouble, and had sent for him that we
mioht know all die truth and be able to
help him farther into the right way. He
was very sullen at first, then full of anger

LIFE IN ALASKA.

145

at his enemy, but in the course of three
hours' talk he became very quiet, even
though we gave him the gospel law in re-
oard to wives as well as enemies. He
had eaten nothing since his trouble began,
and refused to do so until the matter was
settled in some way.

Early on the second morning after, he
came in like a very different man — came
of his own acccrd — to tell us that he had
changed his mind and wished to have
peace everywhere ; his wives came back,
and he made a great feast, with Skoo-kum
um as chief guest.

Then the upper-village people who were
here had had some differences with this
people, and they called them together to a
big smoke. They in turn seemed to vie with
each other in attentions to the strangers.
Old Chief Shat-e-ritch, who in his day has
been the wildest of the Chilcats, said to
us on Saturday night that everybody was
making peace and he wanted to do so too.
He had one thing to settle in his own vil-
lao-e, which he would do when he went
back home.

146

LIFE IN ALASKA.

On Sabbath morn in l^ you may be sure
we had a grand peace-meeting-. The
schoolhouse was crowded ; in a space per-
haps less than six feet square I counted
twenty-eight persons. There was no room
for benches, if we had had them. Even
the old medicine-men, who had not been
at a meeting for weeks, were there. After
a service of two or three hours we had a
hasty lunch and went back. We had the
children recite their catechism and about
twenty verses of Scripture in both English
and Klinor-cret, blendinij these exercises with
singing and prayer in both languages, and
another sermon.

The upper-village people were so im-
pressed with the children's exercises that
Shat-e-ritch made arranij^ements to have
his son board at the trader's and attend
school. Mr. Willard teaches them Eng-
lish, and the whole congregation repeat
the Lord's Prayer in concert every Sab-
bath in their own language.

We were very tired that evening, and
thought the people were too ; but just be-
fore dark two of the head-men came in and

i(f"-<r- — ~-

CniLCAT MOTHKR AND CHILD GOING TO CHURCH.
From a Drawing by Mrs. IV'illard.

LIFE IN ALASKA.

149

begged us to have another meeting, be-
cause they were going to the Stick coun-
try and it would be so long before they
could come again ; all the other people
wanted it too, they said ; so, of course, we
had the service. Mr. Willard gave them
a basket of the living bread to take with
them to the poor Stick country, and he was
glad of the opportunity, for in one of the
villages he had seen them making hoochi-
noo to take with them for trade. This morn-
ing they left, and we are trying to get some
mail ready to send with the canoe.

Now I want to tell you about our school-
house. It is a rough up-and-down board
shanty, sixteen by thirty feet. It may do
for a schoolhouse for a litde while, but a
larger meeting-house is a necessity. We
shall soon be obliged either to have service
out of doors or to turn away many who are
anxious to hear the word of life. As it is
now, they average scarcely more than a
square foot each in the space they occupy.
The people have been accustomed to hud-
dling together in a way perfecdy surpris-
ing to a white person, but they do not like it

I50

LIFE IN A/.ASA'A.

in church ; they say now th('y arc learning
white men's ways and they do not wish to
sit on the floor. Many of thctm have come
to pay much more attention to personal ap-
pearance. I cut clothing for them, and they
take great pains in making it. Many of
these people stand through the service as
close together as cord-wood rath(;r than sit
down in such a mass on the i\i)or. Then
we expect many more in the spring ; they
are coming from above to build here.
They ought to build the me(;ting-house
themselves, but they are not yet ready for
that. The bare mention of anything to
pay would empty our meeting-house in a
day, as it has our school seve^ral times when
the report was circulated that we would
make them pay for it after a while. It
will require the grace of (jod in th('ir hearts
and years of education bt^forr; they will do
their duty in the matter of giving, and that
they may receive this grace and education
they must hear. How can they hear if
the house will not hold them ?

Mr. Willard thinks that we rould build
the best possible house for this locality,

/.//'A IN ALASKA.

151

and at v<;ry much less expense than a
frame, out of the native forest which sur-
rounds us her(!, fitting the logs into each
other with moss. This could be done by

cinix:A'i woMA« '•v>',WfNr,, with II kr hahe leaning against

THK WAT.I,.
I'frrm n Drawing by Mrs. Wilhtrd.

the Indiunn, under direction, at twenty-five
cents per lo^, when white labor no better
would cost three dollars and a half per
day ; and It would give employment to the
people, U)V which they are suffering. This
matter given us no little concern — how to

152

LIFE IN ALASKA.

employ the people. They are waking up
to new wants, they are rapidly becoming
dissatisfied with the old life, and they are
exceedingly anxious to work that those
wants may be supplied ; and that they
should be supplied is necessary to the
further growth and development of those
whom we are trying to bring into the light
of Christianity and civilization.

There is another thing which grows upon
us — the necessity of some more special work
for the children. It would make your hearts
ache, as mine has ached so many times,
to see them. I do not refer to their little
naked legs and bare, bleeding feet as they
trudge through the snow, often to their
waist, to school and church all this winter
weather; nor do I refer to seeing them
half starved, as we sometimes find them —
not these things, although I could not tell
you of the pain they have given me. Af-
ter all, they are heroic little fellows and
make the most of life as they find it, some-
times even seeming to prefer nudity, with
the mistaken idea that in enduring all this
exposure they are growing very strong.

LIFE IN ALASKA.

153

No, it Is not these thini^s that have driven
us to say, putting our trust in God for the
means, " Something must be done for these
children." Much of what I have referred
to cannot be written in a letter like this.
Would that I had every mother's ear in
Christian America ! The mothers' hearts
would burn at the story.

Dozens of these children have been
brought to us by their parents, who begged
us to take them and teach them something
better than they could. As we are situat-
ed, it is impossible to do this, however our
hearts may yearn over them.

We had spoken to Dr. Sheldon Jackson,
when he was here, about the natural ad-
vantages for a Home here, but he was
heavily burdened with personal obligations
in getting the mission started at all, and he
said,

" No ; there is a boys' Home at Sitka,
and a girls' Home at Fort Wrangell : let
them go there y

So with might and main, when they come
to us, we tell them of those good Homes,
and the good people in charge of them,

154

LIFE IN ALASKA.

and beseech them to send their children
there ; but invariably come the impatient
gathering up the blanket, the averting of
the head, and the decided "Clake " ( "No").
They will not do it. Their tribal feeling is
very strong, and their pride in their own
mission, to a degree, is proper and grati-
fying ; and the truth is, after all, that though
the Sitka Home is a desirable haven, a par-
adise, for Sitka boys, it can be filled from the
lower coast. And it is not wholly desir-
able that our boys should go there, for, com-
paratively, our people are clean and pure.
However good the Home, our boys could
not come into contact with the united cor-
ruption of white and Indian Sitka without
learning depths of evil of which they now
have only the hint. And another thing : we
are fully convinced that a Home could be-
come self-supporting in a very few years,
and perhaps support all this mission. We
have an abundance of good soil — lying well,
much of it — that would require almost no
labor to prepare for cultivation. We could
raise enough "truck" here to supply the
whole coast, and our vegetables would find

LIFE IN ALASKA.

155

ready market and good prices at the mines.
If we had a little steam-launch we could
control the whole matter, with no middle-
man to eat up profits. Now, we cannot
ask the Board for this help; but if any of
the churches choose to help us, no one can
object, and we believe that it would be the
most profitable investment for the work
here that could be made — in every sense
profitable ; for we think that no other one
thincr could have such an influence on the
people. The cost to begin with would be
comparatively small. The house could be
built of logs. We can have the land now
for the taking; but if report is true, it will
not be so long. A rush of population is
predicted for Chilcat in the coming spring.
We would require a good practical farmer
and his wife — thoroutrh Christian mission-
aries — to take charge of the Mome and
farm. The very first season the boys could
provide their own vegetables and fish, and
I believe we could fill such a Home in
less than a week from our own villages.
Will you not help us ?

That God may guide and bless us all

156

LIFE IN ALASKA.

in the furtherance of his own blessed work
is the earnest prayer of your friend,

Carrie M. Willakd.

To the Little Mission Band of the Second
Presbyterian Church, New Castle, Penn-
sylvania,

Ciin.cAT Mission,

Hainks, Alaska, February 3, 1SS2,

My Dear Friends: You cannot know,
and I am sorry that I cannot tell you,
just how much of good it did us when
we heard from one of your number th(!se
words : " We have a mission band now, and
we are working for Alaska." Of course
you know, or you would not be working
at all, that doing for " one of these little
ones " is doing for Jesus, and you know that
nothing done for that dear name is lost.
You will have large reward in your own
hearts now ; and up there, when we all have
gone home, will it not be sweet reward
when I see and recognize some of these
Chilcat children as they come in, and after
they have been to Jesus he lets me take
them by the hand to you and say, '* These

/.//••/; /A' ALASKA.

157

are the little ones for whom you \vo»*keid so
faithfully"? Always pray while you work
that God may bless all you do in makin<r
it the means of savini^f some souls.

When I heard that your hearts were
turned toward this stran<^e land, I wanted
to tell you more about it, and I will try to
do so. Did you have a Thanksgiving day
at home this year? We have never heard,
but we ha J oie here on the third Thursday
of November, and a real good one it was.
The people had never heard of such a
thing before, but for a week or two be-
fore the time we talked with them about
it ; so that when the day came they were
ready. Early in the morning our bright
flag was up clear to the top of the pole,
where the wind waved it joyously. The
snow was white and deep and the day
clear and beautiful. At about eleven
o'clock A.M. the bell was rung, giving out
its quickest, happiest tones. Almost at its
first tap the people poured into the school-
house. And I wish you could see them as
they answer such a summons. It seems to
me almost the prettiest picture I ever saw —

158

LIFE IN ALASKA.

the eager, pleasant faces, the hurried steps
of all, the movins^ and Ljori^eous colors of
their clothini^ a<jainst the snow at their feet
and the blue-black of the pine-forest around
them, the crrcat mountains back and above
all, while the glassy waters of the bay give
back the shadows of the woods and the colors
of the sky. After they had sung and prayed
and listened while they were told of God's
great blessings, the meeting closed and the
playing began, in-doors and out. But the
boys soon wearied of making snow-men,
because, havinof neither shoes, stockinofs
nor pants, they became too much lik^i Jack
F'rost's children themselves. In the even-
ing we had the two best classes of the
school come to a party in our home, which
they seemed to enjoy very much. I found
them very quick in taking up ne. plays,
full of fun and very well behaved.

ThefA I think you would like to hear
about our Christmas. Oh how I did wish
for some of your deft fingers then ! Just
think ! sixty nine children, besides some
grown folks, to provide for! I'm sure it's
a good thing I have a long scrap- bag. I

L[FR IN ALASKA.

159

had to use many a bit and all the wit I had.
Many of the children were very irregular
in attendance at school ; so about two
months before Christmas I told them about
it, and that the presents would be <^raded
accordinor to their orood works. So I had
to grade every child and every present.
Mrs. Dickinson, the teacher, knit several
little collars of yarn and two small scarfs,
and gave me about a dozen tiny dolls out of
the store, which helped a good deal. Then
my little Indian girl, Kittie, dressed the
dolls, and she and Mr. Willard trimmed
the house with evercrreens and flails, and
we had a splendid tree, a crowded house
and a good time. For one of our head-
girls I made a charming little hood out of
an old red-flannel drawer-leL{ and a little
bit of black velvet ; for a good many oth-
ers I made little bags out of an old blue-
silk ruffle I had, and filled them accordinof
to works with buttons, needles, thread and
thimbles. For some — the lowest — I made
only little red-flannel needh^leaves ; for
others, little handkerchiefs with the Tur-
key-red initial of their English name.

i6o

LIFE IN ALASKA.

To show you how these thincrs were
prized, I must tell you how a young wo-
man was dressed the other day at church.
She has most beautiful, soft, shining- hair,
which waves back and hangs loose at her
neck. Her eyes are large and dark and
bright ; her cheeks are very rosy. She
wore a skirt of the most brilliant orange
rtannel and a loose blouse waist of some
light figured calico; about her neck was a
white handkerchief, over which was turned
a narrow but exceedingly bright blue rib-
bon, crossed in front and pinned together
with my scarlet-flannel needle-leaves.

As a general thing they are fond of
bright colors, but there are some sensi-
tive exceptions. On Sabbath I noticed a
young woman who kept her eyes down
and seemed to be in trouble ; so after
service I spoke to Mrs. Dickinson about it.
She said that I might have noticed the wo-
man wore a new red blanket, and had made
the remark to the interpreter after church
that she felt as though she was in everybody's
eye. She never wore the blanket again.

The women are always modestly dressed,

LIFE IN ALASKA.

l6l

althoiii^h they wear very little clothing.
They have a long loose gown of calico
gathered to a yoke at the top ; over this,
a calico skirt. When dressed up, they have
a jacket to match the skirt, a blanket around
them, and either a briglit-colored cotton or
a black-silk handkerchief over their head.
Little girls dress just the same, only some-
times with moccasins, and sometimes with
even leather knee-pants, but oftener with
no clothing for feet or legs. The men gen-
erally wear calico shirts and unbleached mus-
lin drawers. They have moccasins, which
they wear sometimes with high tops, some-
times lengdiened into pants. They are
lariife enouii^h to admit of several folds of
blanket, which takes the place of stockings.
The little boys, with very few exceptions,
wear nothin<>- in-doors, this custom beincr
varied when they go to church by the ad-
dition of a little calico shirt.

In the morning the men and boys go
down to the water in the river, break a
hole in the ice and dive into it. Then,
coming out, they roll in the snow over and

over and betake them to th(^ house again.
II

1 62

LIFE IN ALAJA'A.

They think it makes them strong-, but we
know that in some cases it has caused
death, and there is ei threat deal of con-
sumption among the people. But this,
although it often grieves me, is notliing to
some other things which trouble me about
these children. Oh, my little sisters, thank
God with all your hearts that you have been
born in a land and in a time made light by
his word.

These people often show the greatest
family affection. In one case it is beauti-
ful — in a family of father and five litth-
girls, the baby just beginning to walk and
the eldest about ten years. Their mother
was shot last summer during- the war in
the upper village. She came out with
her three-months-old baby on her back and
told her enemies to shoot her. They took
away the child and shot the mother down.
The others are here now, and I never saw
more manifest love in any family. But
their old superstitions make the people
very cruel and iieartless.

Of all the customs, there is not one, I
think, which gives me so much trouble as

\j^

LIFE IN ALASKA.

163

that of marryinor their children and selling
them. In spite of us, so far, there are in
our village several child-wives from nine
or ten to thirteen years of age. One dear
little girl, whose baby-brother died and was
buried some months ago, and whose pa-
rents seemed so heartbroken at his loss,
and who gave us reason to hope that th'^^y
were coming into the light, was given by
her parents to her father's brother, a
great brutal fellow, who already had a
wife, almost blind, with several feeble, id-
iotic children. This little one was a cren-
tie, delicate and beautiful girl of about
nine or ten years. When I see her now, I
almost want to run away ; for I feel tempt-
ed to do something desperate, tier little
face is bruised and swollen ; her eyes are
bloodshot, and their expression would bring
tears to your eyes. She sits in that dark,
cold hut with only those most repulsive
beings about her, sewing away for them
like a little old woman, all child-life for
ever gone. But I did not mean to bring
such a shadow on your young hearts. Do
not let it rest there long. Only that you

164

l.IIE IN ALASKA.

may see the difference betwi.T'n lij^ht and
darkness and lonjr more earnestly to help
send the word of God into the far corners
of the earth.

Now, before I close this ainrady lon^ let-
ter, I must tell you a little incident to show
you how much some of these children ap-
preciate their school. Before the people
came here and built hous<'s last fall, some
of the children woultl brin^^ a lunch of dry
salmon on Saturdays and stay all the week,
sleeping in an outhouse. At last came the
threat fish-festival, the j^ayest time of all the
year to the Indians, when they take their
fish for winter and at ni^^hts have their
mask-dance with much music and fca:;tinor.
The children went home for th(!ir food, and
only one returned — faithful little Willis, of
about ten years of aj^e. We afterward
heard the story from tlu! village people.
The good times proved too much for the
other children, and thc^y determined to
stay and enjoy them.

It is for these little ones that you and we
are working, and for whom we long to have
a refuge. If the miners come; here in the

IJI'E IN ALASKA.

165

sprin^^ llv! (!vil influences will be jrreatly
increaM^rl, and our little girls especially
will \ii'. tlM! sufferers. We are thankful that
(iod s<tru tis here before the miners. Pray
that bin Holy Spirit may work among this
people;, Carrie M. Willard.

Cmii-cat Mission,

Haines, Alaska, Februai7 15, 1882.

My Dkar Parents: I would like to hear
of at brant two missionaries for this country
in tlut Hj^ring. We think of you all every
day, ofUtn wishing we could see you step in.
We do, indeed, think of you often, and long
to sett yrni, but we are very careful not to
let that longing get stronger than we are.
We XM.Siiv forget that our home is here,
and that It is the only home in the Chil-
cat country. . . .

Cnii.rAT Mission,

IIainks, Alaska, February 17, 1882.

Mv Dkar 1m<ienus: We held a regular
council i)^ war yesterday. Jack had brought
charg^'H against one of the Chilcats for hav-
ing killed, in Juneau, last fall, his own wife,

i66

LIFE IN ALASKA.

who was of Jack's tribe, and the latter,
bein^ short of funds, was determined to
have payment, and was more than ready-
to fi.ijht for it. On the other hand, the ac-
cused denied the charge and demanded the
proof, which Jack could not give. We knew
nothing of the trouble until about fifty
of the strongest men of both tribes filed
into our house with their faces painted
black and red and their heads tied up.
They arranged themselves — one tribe in
a close row on one side of the room, the
other tribe on the opposite side — and
called for the minister. I had dinner just
ready to put on the table, but I set it back
and called Mr. Willard from the study;
and that was the last of dinner till about
eight o'clf>ck that evening. We had no
interpreter but Kittie. The poor child did
grandly in all the circumstances, which
were of a trying nature to all. Hour
after hour the loud, violei t charges were
made, and the refutation as loudly and
angrily given, until we were all tired out.
Mr. Willard, after getting the run of the
trouble, took paper and pencil, and, charg-

LH'E IN ALASKA.

167

inof the m(Mi to tell the whole truth, and
nothin<^ else, he proceeded to write down
their words for the man-of-war, to which
he referred the whole matter. Several
times they seemed on the very point of
brcakinor over into cutting and shooting.
Twice in particular I thought it was come
to that, but while I held Baby tight in my
arms Mr. Willard had sprung into the mid-
dle of the floor, and with a tremendous set-
ting down of his feet and bringing down of
his fist, and with a voice that almost made
me quail, he brought them back to some-
thing like order. Then he stood up and
talked to them until you could almost have
heard a pin drop, except for the often-re-
peated " Yug-geh" ("Good"). Old Jack left
with angry threats before the good feeling
came, when he found that he could gain
nothing unjustly through us.

We had a delightful gathering of the
children to-night ; all seemed to have a
good time, and we feel that it must have
done L^ood. We made Willis master of
ceremonies, and all did so well ! After
leavinir their kerchiefs and blankets in the

i08

LIFE IN ALASKA.

Indian room, they came to tlie sittinnr-room
to shake hands with iis, when we told \\\vw\
each, in their own language, that we were
li^lad to see them. There must have been
over a hundred, I think ; we played many
games, then sang and talked and praved
together, and said " Good-night."

Last week Mr. Willard probed another
of their deepest cancers.

The Stick Indians of the interior, from
whom these people get all their furs and
their wealth, are a simple, and, so far as we
can judge by those who have dared to come
here, an honest, tribe — much more than
these their superiors, who consider them
beasts, just as some of the whites esteem
these Chilcats. The Chilcats have lied to
the Sticks and cheated them, and to pre-
vent their comino- to the coast to trade
have told them horrid stories of the whites,
and that they would be killed if they came.
The few who have ventured here have been
dogged about by the Chilcats, and look like
hunted things. We have, however, gotten
hold of every one and told them of Christ.

One of the Sticks brought a nice squir-

LIFE IN ALASKA.

l6(j

rcl-robe to Mr. Willarcl last watk, and, as
he wanted one, he bought it from him at
just the same price that he would pay
either our own people or the trader ; he
paid him in flour, shot and powder. You
can scarcely imaj^ine the hornets' nest that
was stirred up; the people were ready to
mob us. EaWy next morning, before we
could get our breakfast, we were set upon
by some of the head-men, of whom Cla-not
was spokesman. Many and many a time
he had asked prices of goods, and we had
told him ; but he wanted us to tell him the
truth and everybody else a lie. He charged
us with having robbed them ; for, said he,
"the Sticks are our money; we and our
fathers before us have gotten rich from
them. They are only wild : they are not
men ; and now you have told them these
things and taken away our riches." Mr.
Willard told him that he spoke the truth
to all men, nor v;ould he lie for any : he
told him that a certain advance on prices
here was just and right when they carried
their goods into the interior, but that it was
wrong to hinder the Sticks from coming

170

/,//•■/'; //V ,i/..isa:i.

here, and that wh(!ii they broiiL^ht th(;ir
skins here it was only rit^ht tluit they
should buy and sell at the same prices
which the Chilcats did. He asked, too, what
they brought into this world and what they
expected to take out of it, and tried to
show them that they were heaping up
wrath against the day of wrath. That
one question as to his natural pr(;stig(;, al-
though Mr. Willard has used it many times
in church to check their pride, secimed al-
together new to Cla-not, and touched him
more than anything else that was said. I le
reminded us of his hii^h class and that iiis
father and o^randfather had had wealth be-
fore; him ; told us that it had offend(!d him,
that he had come to this placi; (expecting
us to build him a nice house, as they did in
Port Simpson ; there the peo[jle prayed,
then told the missionary, and he gave them
the things they asked for. The peopUt here
could not believe what we preached to thcMii
when we gave them nothing, and now we
had taken away what they had. He would
not stay in this place any longer, H(; has
not allowed his wife to com(i to church

I.II'E li\ ALASKA.

171

since wc talked to him lien^ about poly^^-
amy ; he says if he lets her hear she will
give him shame — leave him, 1 suppose he
means. He has three wives.

You must not for one moment ima<nne,
from anythini:^ that has been written here,
that we are wt^ary of our work, or ready
to give it up, or discouraged, for such a
thought would be far from the truth. We
expected discouragements and trials; it
was from no momentary enthusiasm or
impulse that we entered upon the work,
but, as we know our own hearts, from love
to God, supreme desire to serve him with
our all and an earnest conviction that he
called lis hen;. Our minds have never
wavered for an instant. Our expectations
have been realized — not in just the way we
looked for, perhaps, but in trials greater
than we would have any but him know.
We have reason to " rejoice and be ex-
ceeding glad." Continue to pray for us
that we may be faithful unto the end. In
the matter of which I have written (the
boat) our object is not to escape all trial,
but simply to entrench ourselves, so that

172

LIFE IN ALASKA.

we will be able to stand our ground in
fiHitinof the lei^itimate warfare.

Monday, Febniary 20. — On Saturday we
came home from our usual visitini^ of the
village with sick hearts, having been con-
fronted with the charge that we had brought
on this " terrible " winter of storm and
snow. In the first place, it was because
those children had been buried instead of
burned; then Mr. Willard had put on his
snow-shoes in the house ; and lastly, we
had allowed the children that night in their
play to imitate the noise of a wild goose.
We had very few at cliurch yesterday, and
those mostly children. Did not know the
reason until this morning. Two women
came to us in great trouble. One, the moth-
er of the first child that was buried, had
been the subject of persecution for some
time, and now, since jack had gone below
and Cla-not was away sc^al-fishirg, the peo-
ple declared that should the storm continue
and the canoes be lost they would kill her
without mercy. All day Sabbath the peo-
ple had been ready to kill her, and them-
selves too. She had sle|)t none that night.

A//'-/': IN ALASKA. 1 73

T Ui people were out of food, aiul were

unable, on account of the snow, to «;o to

their villaij^e store-houses for more, and

they were desperate. If she did not i^et

tie minister to show her where the grave

was and build a fire over it, they would

kill her, any way. Mr. Willard told them

that neit ler the burial nor the place had

been any secret; it had been done in day-

light; all had the opportunity of knowing

all about it. Then we talked vvit i them

for a long time, trying to show them t le

foolishness and sin of tlijuir superstitions;

id 1

and th(;y listened so w(;ll that t u^y went

away saying the people might do w lat they

n i

- liked: they would build no lire. They said

tie people had built great fires over the

other little 'graves, and had brou</ht two

days of beautiful weather.

February 2f J. — Tie storm continuing, the

woman yielded yesterday ; and this morn-

ing tiere is a great fire on the beac i,

built by the people, around w lich the chil-

dren are dancing and throwing into it lit-

tle effigies. Oi, may the Lord have mercy

on this poor people an( deliver them from

1/4

l.ll-E IN ALASKA.

such idolatry ! It is still snovviiiij^. The
fall has been indeed wonderful to us ; I
am sure we must have had twentv-five feet
at least. It thaws and sinks so that it has
hardly exceeded eight feet in depth at any
time, but it is so solid that one can walk
over it anywhere. But the storms are
sometimes so blinding- that travelimj^ is
next to impossible Our house is built
hi^^h, yet, as I look out of the window, I
see only the snow-cov^ered apex '<^i the out-
house roofs and the tops of a few trees ;
the mountains are entirely lost i : the storm,
and the waters of the bay are far below my
snow wall. A man wanted to cut some
wood for us last week, and he du<^ out the;
cord. You should see the cavern — down,
down, down, th(Mi away on so far beneath
the surface. But a very different picture
our interior presents, with its brii^ht-car-
peted sittinor-room, roarinLj wood-fire, biii^
windows of lioht, and the orreen trailin<r
moss on pictures and walls, with table and
shelf of ofood and brio-ht-covered books for
friends. As one of tlu; Indians said to me
one evenini/ wh< n, unabk.' to tro to church.

AN ALASKAN :5Ni •W-hTOKM.

LI IE IN ALASKA.

177

I sat rcadin^^r at home, *' You can stay here
all alone and yet have many friends, for
your books talk to you like people." Do
you not t'link that was a bright remark ? It
made me so glad and thankful ! But, above
all, our little home is bri^rht because of i's
quiet content and its litde white bird in the
blue-gingham apron, whose music grows
sweeter every day. I wish I could give
you a co*-rect likeness of her.

Monday, February :^7. — No hint of out-
houses now, and even by mounting a chair
I cannot see over the snow aqfainst the win-
clow. We had only about sixty at church
yesterday. The women were out in a
body, working nearly all day at the snow
with their canoe-paddles, trying to find the
little grave, but with no success. Late last
evening they came again to get Mr. Wil-
lard to go with them ; of course he would
not go. This morning, before breakfast,
our kitchen was about filled with them
acrain. He told them that he knew no
more about it than they did. If he did, he
would not show them ; and he wished them
to come to him no mon' k>r such a pur|X)st\

1/8

LIFE IN ALASKA.

Of course, in all thes(; talks w(! 1(^11 them
why it is wroni^ and what is ri^ht.

Another lari^e tirt! was kindled on the
beach last week for the |>iirpos(! of burn-
ini^ the hair of a little j^irl who had dared
to comb it outside \\m\ house. It was im-
mediately cut close to h(;r Ixtad and burned
to avert catastrophe.

I think the saddest of their sufx-rstitions
are those which most dirrctly affect the
livinir, such as witchcraft. When a \Ax\ is
twelve or fourteen years (;ld, she is se-
cluded for a lenj^th of time j^aeat in |>ro-
portion to her casLe — frr>m six months to
two years — in a little dark room, and clur-
injT this time is never allowcrd to see the
daylight, nor any face save her mother's,
who, when necessary, j^oes tUit with the
mrl after-niirht, and then the latter is close-
ly blankete;d.

Some evenings ago a father and mother
brought their liirle girl to me in great dis-
tress. 1 he people wr-H! so angry because
she was not iinprisonctd according to their
customs that it was not safe for her to be
seen alone. Hu- m(*di< jn'-men declared

Lll'li IN ALASKA.

179

that thin vas one cause of the i^reat snow-
siorm. She is one of the briolitest and
best ^^Jrln in the village, and she recently
said, "I know that God knows all things,
and that he sees my heart while I say I
have nothing to hide." We had a long
Uilk, and among other things the father
said that, to show me how the people be-
lieved thfrse things, he would tell me what
was donfr before we came. A girl of high
chisH during a time of bad weather was
the. subject of this charge by the medicine-
men. She denied it. The storm contin-
ued. They told her that if she did not
confess it they would kill her. They then
commenced to torture her by burning her
blanket frorr, her by inches to extort her
confession. Her blanket was half burned
from her body ; still she denied ; still the
storm raged. They next killed a slave, but
without the desired effect on the girl, and last
of all they killed her and burned her body,
whf^n immediately the storm abated and
they had beautiful weather. When lold
that these custonjs w<Te not regardc^d by
the I'ort Wrangeil bidians, and that they

i8o

LIFE IN ALASKA.

had no storms as a consequence, they quick-
ly rephed tluit this country was very differ-
ent; the least little thinij would brinij snow
here. Of course we tried to explain to
them how and why it was different.

March has come in like a lamb. Last
eveninj^ we saw the sun set ^rloriously after
so lonj^-, and tliis morning; it rose with equal
sj)l(Midor. About noon we heard the report
tliat the woman had at last been successful
in fmdini^ the grave some time durin<r the
forenoon.

March iif). — Just after I wrote you last,
our trials in sickness bec^an, but God
brou'dit us throuijfh so wonderfullv ' I think
1 never felt so thankful for i^nidance and
streni^^th as during this time for what he
so mercifully gave me. In the first place,
our litde Carrie was taken with I know not
what, but she chilled and fretted and cried;
had no appetite, yet seemed to be starving;
seem('d to have a severe cold in the head,
and we got no rest at night. At length, on
Saturday night, among other ways of sooth-
ing hfrr, I tried rubbing her back widi my
bare hand, and found, to my astonishment

LI IE IN ALASKA.

l8l

(for slu! had so lonsj^ b(!fMi exposed to it
without haviiii^ taken tlie disease), that
small-pox was comiii*^'- out. In the early
mornini' I called Mr. VVillard to make the
fires and i^et on water to pack Haby, for
she was cold and the small-pox not comini^
out well. He was not feeling' well, either,
having his first old-fasiiioned headache
since coming to this country; and upon
getting up he almost fainted several times.
At last, after lying down between attempts
at dr(!ssing, Baby meanwhile screaming as
though she would go into spasms, he suc-
ceeded in getting out to the sitting-room,
callin<x Kittie and i^ettino- a fire made. As
soon as possible I got Carrie into a soda-
water pack, which cpiickly soothed her so
much that she allowed Kittie to hold her
while I attended to Mr. Willard, who by
this time was rollinor on the fioor in his
misery. Having bathed his head, got his
feet to heating and made him a cup of
tea, which he could not swallow, I drank a
mouthful myself and took the fretting child.
After an hour or so I got her down in a
sweet sleep, which lasted for two hours,

I82

LIFE IN ALASKA

Still in tho pack. Then I found Mr. Wil-
lard almost delirious. He did not know
what ailed him, but he complained of aj^-
onizin<^ pain — he didn't know where — and
of burnin<^ up, althou<rh his skin felt like
a dyintr person's, cold and clammy, while
his color was a sint^ular mixture of purple,
white and ij^reen. I soon had a cot-bed up
in the sittiuLT-room, bii^f kettles of boiliniif
water, tub, wrinij^er and blankets, and fairly
forced the almost crazy man into a scald-
ing- pack, with llat-irons all arountl. I do
spatched Kittie to Mrs. Dickinson to tell
her our situation, and that I wished she
would hold the Sunday-school.

Mr. Willard grew alarmingly ill. Baby
woke crying. I took her out of her three-
and-a-half hours' pack and gave her a good
bath ; she was then brighter and better, the
small-pox out pretty well. Then I went
back to Mr. Willard again. Kittie stayed
hour after hour; not a soul came near.
At last he fell asleep, and by and by my
anxious eyes saw that the sleep grc^w nat-
ural; a better, redder color came into his
face, and after about two hours there came

I.IIE l.\ ALASKA.

183

a littK; natural perspiration ; and when I
took him out, although Ik; was as weak as
a child, he was himself a^ain, and in the
course of a week he had almost re<4aine(l
his old footiuji;^. Little Carrie soon became
very restless a<j^ain. Tlu; irritation was
fearful; the immense pocks had pits of white
matter as large as pc^as, and on a part of
her body so thick that I could not lay a
finger-end b(;tween them; fortunatcrly, there
were none on her face or hands, though
they were thick on lu;r little head. I
packed her again, and again at b(;dtime
bathed her with weak salt water. Still
there was no rest, with all I could do, for
several days and nights, though she was
doing well and had entirely recovered in
two weeks, while the Indians are sick with
the disease many weeks, sometimes months,
and quite a numb have died.

Of course, after this siege, I did not feel
quite young, but \ WaS happy in having my
dear ones living and well, and you know as
well as I can tell you that 1 had the tender-
est care and nursing when I needed it. . . .

I make our things, as far as I can, out of

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1 84

LITE IN ALASKA.

the material which the Indians use to such
poor advantage ; I want to teach them the
iitiHty of beauty. After I had finished
Baby's fur-lined and trimmed button shoes
of the reindeer skin and the litde cloak and
bonnet, the women kept repeating, " In-
dians know nothing^' and "Mother Nauk-y-
stih knows everything ;" which extravagant
assertions were the outcome of an energy
which afterward wrought something more
substantial in the shape of improved cloth-

mg.

Carrie M. Willard.

Extracts from Letters of Rev. Eugene S.

Willard.

January 26, 1882.

Dear Dr. Jackson ; I spent last week
at the upper village teaching and visiting
among the people. My knowledge of
Kling-get was not sufficient to undertake
preaching while there. I brought over a
dozen people down to spend the Sabbath
here ; others have come to stay that their
children may go to school. Many of the
people are making arrangements to build
here in the spring. I wish all the people

LIFE IN ALASKA.

185

could collect together, as it would be so
much easier reaching them. I made about
one-half of the way up the river on a pair
of American club skates, and coining back
I made about the same distance on snow-
shoes. I had difficulty in getting the chil-
dren togc ':her. They were willing to come,
but had no idea of time. I very much
needed a large hand-bell to summon them.

We are getting along finely at this point.
The school is large, and the congregation
on Sabbath completely fills our schoolhouse,
so that not a square foot is vacant from the
platform to the door. A larger building is
needed. I look anxiously for word from
you, that 1 may know the signs of the times.

March 25, 1882. — We feel certain of
receiving word from you by next mail, for
the accumulation of five months awaits us
at Juneau. The steamer promised for the
first of the month has not yet arrived.
There will be much to attend to when it
does come, for the mail strain is always
great, and this, after so long a famine, will
be almost too much for poor human na-
ture. We had our expectations kindled

1 86

LIFE IN ALASKA.

yesterday, when we saw a canoe coming
around the south point of the bay, from
Juneau ; but no mail was broucrht, thouo-h
we have word through the Indians that
there are two large sacks for us. The
brave Kling-get was afraid to bring it up,
not knowing he would get his pay. They
will do nothing without pay, but expect us
to give them everything and do everything
for them for nothing. I am not of the opin-
ion of those who believe that this ought to
be done. I wanted to get the idea into
their heads that we came amoncr them for
other reasons than to hire them to be friends
to us. The people in a general way are
friendly.

March 30. — We had the largest prayer-
meeting last night that we have had since
coming here. Our house was so full of
Indians that it was difficult to get from one
room to the other. The kitchen and sit-
ting-room are connected by folding- doors,
so that it is like one large room, equally as
large as the schoolhouse. . . .

It seems strange when I think of It — this
leaving the house sometimes full of red-

LIFE IN ALASKA.

187

skins. Before coming among them 1 had
thought it would not be safe to turn one's
back to them. . . . Eugene S. Willard.

Chilcat Mission,

Haines, Alaska, April 5, 1882.

Rev. Sheldon Jackson —

Dear Brother: The Favorite came in
yesterday afternoon with mail from the mid-
dle of November up to March ; of course
it took us till midnight to look over, read
and arrange, and then we retired before
we were through, but not to get one wink
of sleep.

We received a flag by express (an ele-
gant gift from the young people of Joliet,
Illinois), and our piano ; the latter is in the
sitting-room, and I have already played
some old tunes on it for the Indians, but
I think it did me more good than them,
though they were so delighted. It came
without a case from Sitka, as it alone had
barely been rescued by the miners from
the fire which utterly destroyed the boys'
Home and much of their goods, leaving
poor Mr. and Mrs. Austin homeless and

1 88

LIFE IN ALASKA.

impoverished again. Oh, I long to give
them everything I have ! Dear people !
vi^hat trials they have had ! and how nobly
they bear them ! May the Lord show them
great light and comfort! What a miner-
ling of feelings these letters give us — so
much of sorrow, and yet so much of
joy! . . .

Our village here will soon be left to
itself. The Indians are even now com-
mencing to separate. Some go to the
lower Chilcat, some to Chilcoot and some
to Tenany, a fishing-village between this
and Chilcoot, about three or four miles by
water from here. Others go up the Dy-ya
Inlet some fifteen miles, and others to the
upper village ; so that Mr. Willard's cir-
cuit-riding — or, rather, paddling — will soon
commence.

Apj^il 8. — The Sunday-school papers are
indeed a treasure ; we have had none for a
good while, and the people seem hungry
for them. I never saw such eagerness,
even among white children at Christmas, as
these people, old and young, evinced as the
papers came out. They are seized and

LIFE IN ALASKA.

189

hoarded as the greatest treasure, the pict-
ures pored over right side up, upside down
and sideways, though the Indians cannot
read a line. The school-children, however,
pick out the little words and enjoy that.

You ask about the animals here. Cin-
namon, black and brown bears are said by
the Indians to be numerous in the woods
all around us. In crossing the trail to the
lower villages the men always carry knives
or guns with them. Foxes, wolves, wol-
verines and many other animals abound.
There are many reindeer farther in the in-
terior. We have many varieties of birds.
I have seen more eagles, ravens and gulls
than any other b: ds, but there are grouse
of different kinds, the most beautiful being
the snow-white. In the waters there are
seals, walruses and beaver; halibut and
spotted, red, also white, salmon ; a deli-
cious litde silver fish, in size and shape
resembling the small herring: these are
the fish which the people are said to use
for candles, sticking the head in the ground
and lighting the tail. They also make of
them a grease white as lard, which they

IQO

LIFE IN ALASKA.

very much prize for food. Ducks are very
plenty, from the real mallard down to the
little fish-duck ; but we do not get many of
them, as the Indians prefer lying around
their big fires eating dried salmon to fish-
ing and hunting, except for the seal.

One day I saw that a man had brought
in a young seal. I went down to the boat
where he and his wife were unloading and
told him I wished to buy a piece. The wo-
man shook her head, saying that seal would
kill white people ; but I insisted, and at
leng-th had the satisfaction of seeinc^- the
animal skinned and quartered. Under the
skin there is a layer of pure fat from one
to two inches thick all over the animal ; this
is used for oil. The flesh is almost black ;
for bones, there are but the back-bone and
ribs. I baked my purchase for dinner; it
was not very bad, nor can I say that we
liked it very much. The taste is a cross
between fish and animal.

As I have already mentioned, there have
been two brothers here in the Chilcat coun-
try since Christmas, by the names of Aurel
I and Arthur Krause, both doctors of natu-

;

LIFE fN ALASh'A.

193

ral science from th(i University of Berlin,
Prussia. They consider the country rich
from their standpoint, and in scenery they
say it surpasses everything they ever saw
before, although they have spent months
among the Alps and have traveled exten-
sively through the East. They crossed the
American continent — last spring, I think —
and went on a whaler to Siberia, where
they remained some months before coming
here. They are indefatigable workers, and
have quite upset the old geography of this
locality, making a new map of it. I asked
Dr. Arthur (the elder brother left for home
by the last steamer) if their reports had been
printed in America. He said only a few
geographical items : the rest were sent di-
rect to Germany, with innumerable speci-
mens. . . . Carrie M. Willard.

Ciiii.CAT Mission,

llAiNts, Alaska, April 12, 1882.

My Dear Little Sister: Your little let-
ter was a treat. I wish you could give us
one every month. . . .

I cannot v;rite you much of a letter all

194

LIFE IN ALASKA.

to yourself this time, but I must answer
one part of yours. You are anxious to
do good, to help along the work of bring-
ing the world to Jesus, and I understand
perfectly well how, to your mind, Alaska's
claims are stronger than others. Yo" love
its missionaries ; so your sympathies are
quicker, your perceptions of its need keen-
er. Owing to your intimate relations to us,
your information is fuller ; and that alone
would give you a deeper interest in this
field. I am glad and thankful that you
have an eager interest in our work. But,
my little sister, it is all God's work ; do not
say that you will not work with the society
if they do not work for Alaska. There are
heathen in Mexico for whom some one must
labor if they are ever brought to Christ.
There are missionaries who are working
faithfully there whose hearts, I have no
doubt, have their discouragements and tri-
als, and who need the comfort of loving
deeds and cheering words as much as we.
Will It not be nobler to say to your society,
" Work for Christ, and I am with you with
all my heart" ? and if it is their wish to work

LIFE IM ALASKA.

195

for Mexico, work just as earnestly, ancl juHt
as ;:;onerously, as though it were all to tom^j
here. It all goes into the same eternal
tr(!asury, you know. Your loving inten:<>t
is more sweet to us than I can tell, and we
should much enjoy having an unbroken
family working for the land for which we
are willing to lay down our lives, but the
other is the truer, broader, nobler thou;<ht
— that the world Is the field and th(i one
Lord is the Master. It will be sw(iet in
that day when we come togethc^r before
the Lord of the harvest one family, fiut
with bundles from the north and from
the south, having helped to make them
one. . . . Carrie M. Willaui*,

To the Sabbath-School of the Presbyterian
Church of East Springfield, New York.

Chilcat Mission,

Haines, Alaska, April 14., v%%t.

My Dear Friends: The little steamer
Favorite dropped into our harbor on Tues-
day of last week for the first time since
last October, and we do not expect to see
H"r again before the autumn ; so that our

196

LIFE IN ALASKA.

dependence will be upon chance canoes for
mail and supplies for another six months,

I have been questioned in regard to facil-
ities for communication with the outer world.
They are rather meagre. Port Townsend,
Washington Territory, is the most north-
westerly port in the United States. Ves-
sels are frequent between that point and
San Francisco and Portland, Oregon ; also
a railroad, connecting by stage with the
Central Pacific, runs to within a few miles
of Port Townsend. From that point there
is but one steamer per month for the North ;
that leaves, or aims to do so, on the first
day of each month. If a letter is an hour
behind the leaving of the steamer, you see,
it will be a month late in reaching any Alas-
kan port; and if it miss our semi-annual
steamer at Juneau, and no chance canoe
comes along bound for the Chilcat coun-
try, it may be six months late in reaching
us. The steamer from Port Townsend
touches first at Fort Wrangell, then Sitka,
then Juneau, and goes back by way of
Fort Wrangell.

The Favorite is a small trading-vessel

LIFE IN ALASKA.

197

1 :

which merely runs between the ALskan
posts of the North-West Trading Com-
pany as their stores demand new supplies
or have a quantity of furs to send below.
Last summer it visited this point several
times, but hereafter, I believe, they expect
to make the trip only in spring and fall. It
is the only steamer which comes nearer
than Juneau, except as occasion demands
the presence of the man-of-war anchoring
at Sitka.

You wish to know what we have to eat
and where it comes from. Of course, this
first year, we have no food except as we
buy it. What you buy " down town," we
order from Pordand or San Francisco, from
fifteen hundred to two thousand miles away;
and if our goods are left behind, as they
were last fall, we are brought to great want
or to the unplea:".ant alternative of purchas-
ing very inferior store-goods at high rates.
Owing to a very natural repugnance to do-
ing this, both because of the lead-distress
which the poor canned goods gave us and
because v/e dreaded being in debt, we have
frequendy tried the former plan ; but we

198 LIFE IN ALASKA.

have always had flour, and I have learned
how to make many dishes out of bread, in
lieu of meat, vegetables and fruit. Occa-
sionally we have been fortunate enough to
get beautiful spotted trout from the river
at the upper village, and now and then
ducks, Indian chickens and grouse ; but on
account of the great snow the people have
lain almost dormant so far as hunting is
concerned.

In summer both fish and berries are
abundant, and of both there are many
varieties, of the former ranging from hali-
but to the litde *' rock," and of both salt
and fresh water. We ate of eleven kinds
of berries last summer, and still there were
other kinds we did not taste. We could not
often get more, however, than enough for
one meal at a time. We find the goose-
berry, black currant, huckleberry and soft
red raspberry of the States growing wild.
The other varieties, so far as I kno%, are
peculiar to this country.

The delicious trout are very abundant
through the winter in Upper Chilcat River,
the only difficulty being to get them brought

u
V

LIFE IN ALASKA.

199

down here. The men and boys catch them
by cuttuig a hole in the ice and dropping in
bait of salmon-eggs, for which the trout
come in great numbers. Then, with a pe-
cuUar sort of spear-hook, they are brought
up — as many as five at a time on one stick ;
but the people depend principally upon the
salmon, which they dry during the month
of September, and salmon-eggs and the sal-
mon-berry, which they preserve together in
salmon-oil. They prepare huckleberries
also, for winter use, by washing them, and
drying them between two boards perhaps
a foot square. The berry-cake is about
three-fourths of an inch thick, tart and tastes
very strong of wood- smoke. They also dry
seaweed and use it with a general boiled
dinner of salmon-eggs, berries and oil
in the same pot. The seaweed has cer-
tain medicinal properties which render it
exceedingly valuable in such a bill of fare

much as our eoorl pnd wise mothers at

home value onions for their families. When
this pot-dinner is cooked, the pot itself is
taken down from the hook and chain by
which it is suspended from the roof-beams

200

LIFE IN ALASKA.

over the great central fire, and the family
o^ather about it with bone and wooden
spoons varyin<^ in size according- to the size
of the individual, that belonging to the baby
being about the size of a common soup-
ladle, while that used by the head of the
household is near the size of his own head.
When they do not boil their fish, they roast
it. After splitting it open quite ilat, they
pass through it, cross-wise, at Uie top and
bottom, a little rod, and lengthwise a
stick lonof enouorh to run into the pround
and at the same time support the fish
air^inst the blaze.

You also inquire as to our fuel. It is
wood alone, which in this part of the pe-
ninsula is abundant. So far we have seen
no indications of coal amoncr these moun-
tains. . . .

Now that the days are growing longer
and warmer, it is a trying matter to walk
without snow-shoes, for in spots the snow
has softened enough suddenly to let one
down to the shoulders. This snow has
given us a great deal of trouble with the
people, and yet it has been the means of

LIFE IN ALASKA.

20I

discovering to us their true character and
their superstitions, that otherwise we might
have been years in finding out ; and as we
learn their need we are able to find the
remedy, though only God's Holy Spirit
can cause it to take effect.

At times throuMi the winter it seemed
doubtful whether we should see the spring,
so intense would become the excitement
of the people upon a return of the snow-
storm. At none of their old villages do
they have anything to compare with the
quandty of snow which falls here. This
difference is quite easily explained to per-
sons of intellii^ence. You are aware of
the cause and effect of the warm Japan
current, which by its proximity gives to Sit-
ka its mo''-t- and ai^freeable climate. There
is from this stream a great and constant
evaporation, which in summer falls among
the mountains of that lower coast in the
form of rain. Durlncr the winter the course
of the winds is northward, and they bear
with them these heavy vapors, which, as
they come in contact with our icy moun-
tains, are condensed and fall upon us in

202

LIFE IN ALASKA.

the form of snow. If you examine the
map of this country, you will see that Linn
Channel is walled on either side by high
mountain- ranges, which at the head of the
channel separate more widely, admitting
between them the Chilcoot and Chilcat
Rivers. Between these rivers, with their
farther mountain-walls, is the peninsula of
Chilcat, which, southward from Portage
Bay, is comparatively fiat. Immediately
at the head of the bay begins a mountain,
which extends unbroken across the penin-
sula from river to river, forming a perfect
"back-step" and condenser to these bur-
dened winds from the south. Our mission
village lies in the lap of these mountains,
her feet dropping into the bay, while the
other villages lie to the north, under the
sheltering shadow of these ** everlasting
hills." They are also protected by ab-
rupt turns in the rivers. This explanation,
though so simple and natural to us, is
entirely beyond the comprehension of the
people here, who are ignorant and whose
minds are so steeped in superstition.
To-day (the 17th) the snow is falling as

(

o
X

C/l

LIFE IN ALASKA.

205

heavily as ever, and I presume some one
will soon be in to take me to account for
daring to bring into the house on my foot,
yesterday, one of my snow-shoes, which I
could not readily remove. Another of
their complaints was that the minister
had made figures of stars on the snow when
living the young men a litde out-door lect-
ure on astronomy, and so brought bad wea-
ther. Upon several occasions we were
taken by force, the people filing in until
our room was pretty well filled. They
came before breakfast; they came in the
night and at all hours intervening. We
tried reasoning, then ridicule, and lasdy
authority, forbidding them to trouble us
any more with their complaints or threats.
Soon spring will be here, and their trouble
on this score will be at an end. We hope
and pray that ere the falling of another win-
ter's "nows God may have caused the light
of his truth to enter their hearts and minds.
He has mercifully preserved the lives of all
who were out hunting and trading in the
interior; though many were ill from ex-
posure and two canoes were wrecked in

206

LIFE /A^ A/.ASh'A.

the fierce storms, yet all the people were
brought back in safety. . . .

The Indians call us " the snow-people *'
— not because they think we brought the
snow, but because we are white. Baby
Carrie they call "little snow-woman." Mr.
Willard they have named Don-a-wok, which
means " silver eye " or " bright eye." . . .

Carrie M. Willard.

Chm.cat Mission,

llAiNKs, Alaska, May 8, 1SS2.

My Dear Mrs. Haines : I have not yet
heard from Mrs. Downino-, but I have taken
the little girl, to do for her all in my power.
It was a burden at this time, for my hands
are full now to overflowing; but I felt that it
was the ordering of God, and that he would
strengthen me for every task he gave.

A week ago last Saturday (April 29)
we found that our village here was almost
deserted, the people having gone to Nauk
Bay, some ten or twelve miles down the
channel, to fish, there being in that place
an immense run of herring. Accordingly,
we put our things together and followed

LIFE IN ALASKA.

207

the people to spend the Sabbath at their
fishinir-g^round. Some half dozen persons
who had intended remainino^ here till Mon-
day went down also on Saturday, as they
said they could have no Sunday here with-
out us ; so there were left in this villa^^e only
a few old people and some children, among
them my little girl and her grandparents.
They came down to Nauk on Sabbath just
in time for church. Some of the people
were, I think, very glad to see us, but many
looked dark at our coming; they had in-
tended to work all that day.

On Saturday we saw them fishing. In
the stern of the canoe sat a woman or
child to paddle ; in the prow, a man with
a long pole, through which were driven
many sharpened nails. This pole was used
much in the same way as a paddle, but with
every dip were brought up and dropped into
the canoe from one to six fish. In a very
short time the canoes were half filled, and
then taken ashore and the fish emptied into
great basins dug in the pebbly beach, where
the women cleaned them and strung them
on long sticks to dry. As the tide went

208

LIFE IN ALASKA.

out children ran alon«^ the shore, and from
among the sea-moss gathered fish by the
tubful. The people worked late on Satur-
day night; we had our evening worship
with a few of the children on the rocks
overhanging the workers, where they could
hear the hymn.

At the dawn of Sabbath six or eicfht ca-
noes dropped down into the bay again for
fish, but the parties soon returned with emp-
ty boats and very long faces. Of course it
was the missionary who had driven away the
fish (they were all gone). There were still
many of the fish left over undressed from
the day before, and soon the camp pre-
sented as lively an appearance as on that
day. They were angry about the fish, so
they set about work that they would not
think of doing at home, building their
drying-booths, whittling fish-sticks, clean-
ing fish, etc.

My husband had hoisted the flag at wor-
ship-time on Saturday evening, and at
church-time on Sabbath morning- we took
our seats on the rock beneath it and sadly
looked on at the busy hands and sullen

LIFF. IN ALASKA.

20()

faces of the iiiultitude below. A few of thf;
school-children, who were allowed to do ho,
washed the black paint from their faces and
came to us. We then went down and made
our way throui^di the busy crowds of jxrople
to their very midst, and Mr. Willard, taking a
tin pan, drummed for them to stop work. A
few did so and gathered closer around us,
while the others could not but hear as thifry
wc ked ; others came to the afternoon ser-

VlCv

After church I noticed that my littlti In-
rlian girl had been set to work on the fish,
I knew that, child as she was, she was work-
ing against her conscience, and I called hcrr
to come to me. I was impressed with the
idea that if we saved her at all from the
people, now was the time for the decisive
step, and after consulting together we de-
cided to take her at once. Her people
were only too glad to have the burden of
her support lifted from their shoulders ; so
on Monday we brought honie with us the
filthy, half-naked little child, whom I put
into a tub of warm water and scrubbed to
entirety with brush and carbolic soap; then,

210

LIFE IN ALASKA.

braidingr her loni^ soft hair, I pu*^ her first
into a clean nig^htdress, then, for the first
time in her Hfe, into a good clean bed. The
little heart grew very tender in the opera-
tion, and I trust that God enabled me to
take proper advantage of it; and when I
left her, after a bedtime talk and prayer
and a good- night kiss, I could not but trust
that the good T^ather had planned a noble
future for the little one whom he seemed to
have given to us. During the week, though
it had seemed so full before that I could
not possibly get anything more into it, I
manaored to make her an entire suit — un-
derclothes, skirt-dress and shoes (from deer-
skin) and stockings. She has gone all win-
ter with nothing on her body except a little
ragged cotton slip and but half fed, and she
is only one of the many bright little girls
here whom I am besouofht to take into our
home, and for whom my heart longs and
aches. But this poor weak body of mine !
Oh, Mrs. Haines, we must have a home
here. God will provide it, for these chil-
dren must be saved, and it cannot be done
in their hom(,'less homes. It has been grow-

LIFE /iV /ii.ASKA.

211

ing upon us ever since we came here, but
each day the necessity is more apparent,
each day the burden is heavier on our
hearts. I did not speak to you of it be-
fore, because I knew that the Board was
burdened with work still unprovided for.
I have had dozens of boys and girls, of the
best and brightest of our children, brought
to me by their parents, who begged me
to take them and teach them better things
than they themselves could. . . .

Carrie M. Willard.

CuiLfAr Mission,

Haines, Alaska, April 14, 1882.

Dear Dr. Jackson: If Mr. De Groff
cannot succeei in sending by canoe my
things that are now in the warehouse at
Juneau, I will (ry and go down myself to
bring them. The Favorite brought only
flour enough for the trader, and no pota-
toes at all, no bacon or other supplies.
Moreover, the boat will not return before
fall. . . .

We have had Indian Lot, of Fort Wran-
gell, with us for neiiHv a week. We were

212

LIFE IN ALASKA.

glad to have some one whom we could
call on to speak and to lead in prayer. He
intends to go below on Monday. I bought
from him about one bushel of potatoes for
five dollars. . . .

Chief Shat-e-ritch sends to his son at
Forest Grove a letter, in which he says,
" We are so far from the mission that we
do not go every day to church, but we will
go in the summer. Ler.rn all you can. I
do not want you to learn only one haK.
learn all. When you are in the school,
don't play, but study." . . .

You will probably remember the deaf-
and-dumb boy whom you hired to work
on the house ? W^e have discovered that
by putting my watch in his mouth he can
hear the singing. He never is absent from
church or prayer-meeting. I have thought
that perhaps some Christian at home would
like to give him an opportunity of hearing
the words of life by providing him with a
dentaphone.

Among our people there are three deaf
persons who can all hear a loud sound,
though it is impossible to hold a conv^r-

LIFE IN ALASKA.

213

sation with them : there is but one who
cannot speak.

May 9, — I have had several talks with
different Indians about taking mail to Ju-
neau. They will not go for less than thirty
dollars per month ; some want forty. They
say they will need a large Hydah canoe and
have at least three men in it. If there is
any kind of a sea on, they cannot move
with the canoes. . . .

May 12. — I did not succeed in sending
the mail, as I had expected, though it got
as far as the middle of the bay, when the
Indians said that some of the letters were
sent to the storekeepers to tell them what
the prices of skins were ; so back came the
mail. But this afternoon the Favorite blew
her whistle in our harbor, and by her I can
send to Sitka. She did not stop at juneau ;
therefore our mail is not here and our
freight is still in their warehouse.

My traveling has commenced, as the
Indians are away fishing. On the 30th of
April we camped among the Indians, about
ten miles down the coast. There was at
that time a depth of four or five feet of

214

LIFE IN ALASKA.

snow on the ground ; at present there is
about one foot. I used a tin pan for a
bell and a fine gravel-beach for a meet-
ing-house. Don-a-wok's canoe and tent
were secured ; so we were comparatively
comfortable.

I would like to go up the Dy-ya Inlet,
where all the people of the village are
fishing, but have no way of getting there.
I do not like these ii^ood-for-nothinir ca-
noes: you must sit just so, look just so
and breathe just so, or over they go. . . .

I was visited the other evening by the
old Crow chief who gave us the house at
the upper village. He said he wanted me
to take his words and send them to the
officers, telling them to have pity on those
who want to live in peace, and who do not
want to see their friends fiorhtin<if amoncr
themselves, adding, "And do not let the
people buy molasses, for it is no good."
He then told me that a Sitka Indian had
taken to the upper village one large barrel
of molasses and two small ones. He want-
ed me to help him ; he wants the children
taught, so that they will not grow up as the

LIFE IN ALASKA.

215

people now are — '* all bad." He said, " The
men drink, the women drink, the children
drink, the babies drink." Another man
said to me, ** I don't understand why all
people don't talk the same language." He
wanted to learn to be a Christian. . . .

May 24. — I have never before appreci-
ated our utter helplessness. Mrs. Willard
has been sick for two weeks, with medicines
no nearer than Juneau. . . .

The native teachers, Louis and Tillie, for
the upper village, have been with us one
week. We were unable to procure a ca-
noe to take them up the river to their
station, as all the Indians are away fish-
ing. We were glad to welcome them, and
took them into our house, at the same time
telling them we could not do for them as
we would if Mrs. Willard were well, and
that until she was able to walk they should
take our stove and our stores as their own
and help themselves.

Mrs. Willard's sickness was of such a
dangerous character as to require the most
constant attention day and night; but I
hope a turning-point has been reached

2l6

LIFE IN ALASKA.

and that she will soon be in her usual
health.

We have had fine weather for weeks
back, and now the snow has gone. We
have radishes, onions, lettuce, beets, cab-
bage and tomato-plants growing in boxes,
waitinof until I can o-et the orround broken.
I hope to have plenty of vegetables for
next year.

I have concluded to build a small loo
house for the teachers at the upper village,
for the following reasons: i. Increasing
complications in regard to the ownership
and disposal of the proffered Indian house,
and on this account the inadvisability of
putting much expense on it ; 2. There is
no lumber here to fix it with ; 3. Louis be-
ing able to get out shakes for a roof, I will
be enabled to build a comfortable log
dwelling at less expense. . . .

ytme 1. — Again we were favored by the
arrival of a small canoe from Juneau, bring-
ing some of our letters. We were rejoiced
to see your letter, as we always are. . . .

We were enabled to send Louis and Til-
lie to the upper village on Saturday. They

LIFE IN ALASKA.

217

will fix themselves up as comfortably as
possible in the larg^e house until I can get
some way to send them more comfortable
things. Having left their small cook-stove
at Juneau, they must camp until it is sent
up. I told Louis to start a garden, and
while his food is growing he can work at
the house.

Our people are still fishing, and we have
but two scholars — one the faithful Willis.
It will not be long, however, before the
children will return, as the small fish are
leaving.

No, we have not been burned out nor
removed by a tornado ; we have been
slightly rocked by an earthquake. It only
made the windows ratde a litde. The house
was slightly jarred by the breaking of a
glacier on what is called the Shooting
Mountain, on the Chilcat side, a little
above the Davidson glacier. . . .

Jtme 11, 1883. — I am unable to finish as
I wanted to do. A canoe goes to Juneau
to-day. I can manage to get from one
room to another, and that is about all I can
do ; I have now been sick for a litde over

2l8

LIFE IN ALASKA.

a week. My right hand and arm are swol-
len to twice the natural size. Mrs. Willard
is a little better.

Your brother in Christ,

Eugene S. Willard.

Cmilcat Mission Manse,

Haines, Alaska, June 29, 18S2.

Rev. Sheldon Jackson, D. D. —

Dear Brother : We are still prisoners,
but I rejoice to say that I have the use of
my hands — at least, for a little while at a
time — and my husband can walk, though
slowly and feebly. It has been indeed a
dark time ; for many days we thought the
end had come for us. Before I was able
to move myself Mr. Willard hurt his hand
digging in the garden ; it at once took such
a malignant form that it seemed beyond all
human means — at least, in this country — to
save his life ; we gave up hope, but not ef-
fort, faith and prayer, and God blessed us.
While we both lay prostrate our only aid'^'
— the !ittle ten-year-old Indian girl — was

* The whole family were dying for want of suitable food, and
were soon after rescued by a steamer sent from Sitka for their
relief.

LIFE IN ALASKA.

219

taken with scarlet-fever, and in a few days
after our baby Carrie also. To save her
life we had to exert all our strength and
skill. My arms were made strong to hold,
bathe and pack her; her father drew us
with one hand from the bed to the stove
on a rockin<if-chair. We had been unable
to get ourselves any warm, good food for
so long that I think we should at last have
perished all together with exhaustion if
Mr. and Mrs. Dickinson had not come to
our aid and offered us Jack long enough to
cook us something each day ; and when he
left them and us after a few days, Mr. Dick-
inson very kindly finished the week cook-
ing for us himself. The children are both
nearly well now, and we are all gaining.
Mr. Willard had intended going to the
upper village to-day, taking a man with him
to dress his hand and cook for him — for he
is desperate — but Louis and Tillie came
down to-day, very blue and homesick, I
fear, though they are very well and have had
plenty to do. Their school even now num-
bers between fifty and sixty ; they have put
in a garden, and Mr. Willard had told Louis

220

LIFE IN ALASKA.

to get out his shingles and logs as fast as
he could, but of this latter work I believe
he has done nothing. The Indians have
taken possession of the large house given
to the mission, and are going to tear it en-
tirely down to build up new as a monument
to the dead. Shat-e-ritch has told us re-
peatedly that it will then be the mission
house, but it seems that he has nothing
whatever to say about it, and the other
Indians say that when it is finished they
will have rent for it.

But how are we to get anything from
Juneau ? We must have a boat of our
own. We have had no freight since last
fall, except our piano. The Favorite
brought us not even a letter last time.
Our potatoes and other provisions have
been lying so long in the warehouse there
that I suppose by this time they are past
use, while we suffer for want of them and
pay high rates of storage. It drives my hus-
band almost wild, especially since he can-
not work. He paces the floor, and I scarce-
ly know whether he has greater distress
of mind or body. He says he " may as

UFR IN ALASKA.

221

well be locked up in a box." But " No,
no !" I <^ell him ; " it is not so bad, because
we are free to teach Christ to these people.
They cannot shut our mouths as long as
the spirit is kept in our bodies, and you
know we expected trials." We have not
been able to get a canoe at any price, even
when we were dying, as we thought, for
medicine, which might have been had only
seventy-five miles away. Fish in their sea-
son are more to the Indians than anything
else, and all are using their boats. We
feel a good deal " cast down," you see, but
oh, " not in despair." God will take care
of his work here ; we are sure of that. We
are not necessary to its success. If we
should not be spared to do it, I will believe
that it Is because some one else can carry
it on better; but oh how I thank him for
the privilege of doing at least one year's
hard work in Chilcat ! I want to tell you
that I do feel sometimes as though my
course were almost run. If it should be
and I am not permitted to write you again,
I want to give you these words : Please do
not feel, nor allow the Board to feel that

222

l.H'E IN ALASKA.

they made a mistake in sending us, even
though it was but for a year or two. God
sent us here, and when he calls us away
our special work will be done, however
imperfectly. Oh how my heart yearns
over this people that God will send his
Spirit among them mightily and establish
his work ! Would that I might see the
church and Home here, and, more than
all, some fruit of souls saved ! but I know
that all will be well.

Though our path has led toward the
valley of shadows, yet the days have been
long and bright. On the 21st of June the
sun rose at quarter of three a. m., setting
at quarter after nine p. m. Of course the
darkest hour was only like early twilight ;
so that '' even the night is light about us."

Carrie M. Willard.

To the Presbyteriaii Sabbath-School of East
Spvijigfield, New York.

Chii.cat Mission,

Haines, Alaska, July i8, 1882.

My Dear Friends: Since last quarter
God has been giving us very different

LIFE IN ALASKA.

223

work from that of previous tiiiK^s, calling
us to bear instead of to do, and I hav<^ bc'<;n
wonderint^ whether or not I should V'X you
see the missionary's cloudhuid as well as
his castles.

You know Jesus said, " Take up your
cross and follow me." We did not leave
ours in Pennsylvania when we cam<i as
missionaries to this remote place, whcrn;
there are neither doctors, nurses nor wn'A-
icines. We have all been very sick, near
unto d(;ath ; and down amoni^ those shad-
cnvs where my husband, little Carrie and
myself traveled together, yet apart, true
and precious to us proved the Master's
wcjrds, '* I am with you " and " My grace is
sufficient for you."

If I am unable to send you a full and
satisfactory letter this time, you will now
understand why, and excuse me. I have
not gained good physical strength, an<I my
husband is entirely disabled from wntinj(,
or in any way using his right hand. It ?iti!l
requires much attention and is painful. , . ,

Our people, so impatient of the long win-
ter and really needing food, lost ncj time in

224

LIFE IN ALASKA.

getting to their old haunts as soon as the
small fish began to run, in April. We had
long hoped to be the possessors of some
sort of a boat in time to enabH us to be-
gin touring when the people did. This
hope not being realized, we were fortunate
enough to secure passage on the last Sat-
urday in April in Chief Don-a-wok's canoe,
bound for Nauk Bay, whither the people
had gone that week for herring. Leaving
here, j;3 we did, with the ground still cov-
ered with snow and no sign of spring,
we were a little surprised to find there
not more than a foot of snow, and in many
places none at all, but little tiny wild plants
and blossoms orrowincr. I wish I could show
you just how beautiful it looked. We came
first 11 nop the little bay where the people
were tented near the shore in booths made
of fir- and spruce-boughs, with here and
there a sail-cloth hung in fantastic fashion.
More important to the Indians than these
were the fish-booths, or frames, upon which
were already hanging the herring by hun-
dreds of dozens, drying in the sun. These
were erected upon the verge of the dark-

LITE IN ALASKA.

22;

green wood, above and beyond which rose
the snow-topped mountauis, while imme-
diately in front sloped the clean gravel-
beach to the glassy surface, that was fiirly
alive with canoes.

This little nook one comes upon very
suddenly, so hidden is it in approaching by
high, precipitous rocks covered with '\ wild
growth of pine. Here on the rocks, among
the siirhinof trees and overhanofinof the busy
camp on the beach, we pitched our mission
tent, intent on fishing too — for souls.

As we entered the bay it lay in pro-
found silence except for the splashing of
the waterfalls among the rocke-, the dip-
ping of our own paddles, the startled cry
of eai^les and the constant screech of sea-
lifulls, the number of which I have never
seen equaled elsewhere. They filled the
air and covered the water like monstrous
flakes in a heavy snow-storm. . . .

This has been our only Sabbath out in
all this summer so far, for after that Don-
a-wok did not come back, and there was
neither boat nor man to be hired on any
terms. Soon after, our native teachers,

226

LIFE IN ALASKA.

Tillie Paul and her husband, Louis, from
the McFarland Home, at Fort Wrangell,
came to take charge of a school m the
upper village. We were anxious to get
the work started there, particukirly as Mr.
Willard had decided to put thern up a log
house, in which they might be independent
of the people and more secure in case of
further hoochinoo trouble ; but here came
in our boat-trouble again. With so much
to be done al.l over our field, we were tied
hand and foot for weeks. When passage
was found for our teachers, the small
amount of lumber we had to put into the
house was still obliged to wait, and has
done so until to-day, when a volunteer
canoe has come from the upper village
to take it, and to-morrow my husband
expects to go up with it and get the build-
ing under way.

The people have treated the new teach-
ers very kindly, furnishing them, free of
charge, all the fish they could use, and
giving them two barrels in which to pack
salted fish for winter use, besides many
other favors, saying they will not allow

LIFE IN ALASKA.

227

the teachers to starve as the minister has
to do down here,

A good school has been started with
from sixty to seventy scholars even in this

sy time. Mr. Willard expects to visit it
c^.nd preach once a month ; lie would have
done so even if he had had to climb the
trackless mountains, I believe, had it not
been for our long illness. . . .

We have had word from our secretary,
Mrs. F. E. H. Haines, that a white lady-
teacher will be sent us some time durinir this
summer. We are so happy in anticipation !
but ho.'/ ^he is to reach here we cannot
tell. ■'.'. pray God to take care of her
and iji.i , ..er safely through all the wild
perils of uk: way.

Now I must speak of that dear project
of mine mentioned in a former letier — a
Home for our Chilcat children I wish I
could tell you that it is begun, or that we
had '•'• en five dollars in hand to pay for
tvven:) iCgs, and we should order them to-
night, for many of the men are now free for
a litde while. We dare not go on without
the money to pay for each day's work as

228

LIFE IN ALASKA.

soon as it is done, and the Indians want it
in silver, which is almost impossible to ob-
tain here. It covUl be sent us, however,
by our friends, in ■ tered packages, by
mail, and should be jewed up in strong-
bags covered with paper.

Some time a^jo we received a letter
which gave us some of the most thankful
joy we ever knew. It told us that the
ladies of your church had devoted a gift
to the Home. It was the earnest of God's
blessing upon our effort to build up such a
Home, and we thanked him for the whole
irift, because we knew it was sure to come.
We had thought of starting the boys' de-
partment first, because that could be soon-
est made self-supporting; but with that wel-
come letter from you came another also,
from a personal friend long unheard from,
who proposed to support a girl in our
Home, laboring under the impression that
we were in charge of one similar to that
at Fort Wrangell. The money had already
been forwarded to the Board for one year's
support. Another letter came from anoth-
er State, to the same effect, and also in-

LIFE IN ALASKA.

229

forminij^ us tliat the McFarland Home was
too full to admit anv more. This all seemed
to us plain providence ; forty dollars toward
the Home and the support of the two girls
already paid into the treasury. We could
not do as well for the boys this y "!ar ; a
larger guarantee would be necessary for a
beginning there. It was not quite so plain
how we should take care of the children
until the plan would develop enough to
enable us to employ a matron ; but God
irave us a thouQ-ht for that, and we deter-
mined to iiet loofs and what shinoles we
could with the Springfield money ; and if
no more came, we could take out some of
our own windows for this year, and build a
good log house of four rooms, which in the
future would be but a wing of the great
Home. As to fitting it up, although we
have but little, we would gladly give the
use of such things as we have until means
are provided for the purchase of more for
the Home.

This decided upon, I sat down and wrote
the whole plan to Mrs. Haines, asking if
she could send us a teacher with sufficient

230

LIFE IN ALASKA.

consecration and physical strength to take
charge of the few girls whose support should
be secured for this year; so we are waiting
and praying. Of all things, I should love
to take the care of these children myself,
but I have already the work of three per-
sons, with only the strength of one wee
bit of a woman ; but we hope to be all one
in the good work, and helpfully and loving-
ly work together for good. If we could
only begin ! It is so important it should
be soon, not only that all may be in readi-
ness before the setting in of our early win-
ter, but because time means life, purity and
salvation to these girls. One of our best
and most earnest girls in seeking truth has
been shut up in a little dark hole these three
months. If we could promise to provide
entirely for her, I do not know but that
her parents would give her up to us,
though their custom requires her to be
kept in that dark solitude for two years.
The interior country promises much in
gold. The excitement on the coast and in
all the mining region of the territory is, we
are told, becoming intense, and there is

LIFE IN AhASKA.

231

prophesied a j^reat rush very soon, with
our mission station as the centre. A par-
ty of ten miners from Arizona passed in
a week a<^o. They make nineteen who are
connected ; the others have been in the in-
terior a year. We hear that a company is
coming up from Juneau, and that a boat is
being- fitted out at San Francisco and go-
ing around to meet these nineteen on the
head-waters of the Yukon. That river is
navicrable from its mouth to within sev-
enty-five miles of us. . . .

Oh that we had seen the Home started
first! . . . Cakkie M. Willard.

"p.

SnKLDON Jackson Institute,

Sitka, Alaska, August 14, 1882.

My Dear Parknts: Of course you won-
der how and why we are here. It would
be impossible for }0u to realize why, for
you could not understand what our necessi-
ties and our sufferings have been ; and I am
so glad that you cannot! There seemed
to be no help on the earth, and, though
we cried, the heavens schemed brass ; but,
thank God ! we wen.' able to say, though

232

LIFE IN ALASKA,

it was with blind, luiiiib hearts, "Though
he slay me, yet will I trust him."

When I thought our little Carrie might
be left alone, I wrote a note to Mrs. Austin
asking her to keep our baby, if need should
be, until she could be taken to you. Hei
great, loving mother-heart was roused at
once, and sleeplessly and prayerfully she
sought how she might help us. At last,
with Mr. Brady, they succeedc^d in getting
the Rose, which belongs to Mr. Brady's
partners, to run up to Chilcat to carry our
freight and bring us down, we paying the
bare running expenses of the vessel — one
hundred and twenty-five dollars. Mr.
Brady and Mrs, Austin came and man-
aged everything — put our goods in, packed
our trunks and made it possible for us to
come. As '.t was, even with the greatest care
and providentially fine weather, it seemed
as though we should hardly reach Sitka
alive ; but here we are, and such nursing,
such food and such care we could know
nowhere else save with you. We were
all greatly reduced both from suffering
and want of food.

LIFE IN ALASKA.

233

Dear little Carrie gets all the milk she
wants now, and already her cheeks are
growing round and rosy, while I am dis-
tressed only at what they oblige me to eat
of the meat for which I was dying, and the
beautiful fresh berries, which are so deli-
cious! I am sure I shall soon retrain all
that I had lost, and be strong as ever and
ready for any duty that may be given to
me. God is very good to us, and I long
to be airain able to serve him.

Mr. Brady knew nothing about the bar-
rel of clothinof, and, although it had been in
the warehouse since May, it was the only
thing of all our goods which they did not
bring up on the Rose; and it was just what
we wanted here. It was opened the day
after we came, and almost overwhelmed us
with gladness. I cannot tell you anything
about it at all, and you will never know
how precious and timely your goodness
was till you all reach heaven. I wish I had
the strength to write to each one who help-
ed to give us so much comfort and happi-
ness. We think the whole contents of the
barrel perfect ; but I must wait. We do

234

I U'E IN ALASKA.

not know when we will get back home to
Chilcat — before many months, we hope,
though mother Austin says it is impossi-
ble for Baby and me to go this winter in
the little open boat, and that is the only
way nov*^ to be seen ; but the Lord, who
hath ever been our helper, will provide
all things needful. . . .

Carrie M. Willard.

Shf.i.don Jackson Institutr,

Sitka, Alaska, October 3, 1S82.

Dear Parents : The Wachusette will sail
for San Francisco to-day, having been re-
lieved by the man-of-war Adams. The
captain of the latter, as also of the former,
is favorable to missions, and declares him-
self a friend to the missionaries.

We arc in doubt as to just how we are
to return to our field, as the steamer Rose
has met with an accident, having run on a
rock, and the owners are in doubt as to
whether they will fix her up again.

Our little Fred will be three weeks old
to-morrow ; he weighed nine pounds. Lit-
tle Carrie is almost wild with joy over

LIFE IN ALASKA.

235

her "baby b'lov-a H'litz." Slu; kisses us
"Good-night" and goes away to sleep in
another room by herself, happy in seeing
Baby safe with me. She is distressed
sometimes lest somebody take him away.

We are to have communion before Dr.
Sheldon Jackson goes back, when he is to
baptize little Fred. . . .

Oh, my mother, I have wanted you ! but
the Lord knows it all, and he has been with
us, and these dear friends have shown us
all loving-kindness. Only God can repay
them.

What we would do without Miss Bessie
Matthews now here, I am sure I do not
know. Dear Mrs. Austin has congestion
of the retina and is in great danger of
ofoinof blind. Oh what she has done for
me and mine ! It can never be repaid in
this world.

October 14. — In regard to the publishing
of the letters, I am persuaded to permit it.
They are so imperfect — were often written
with Baby on my lap, and more often with
the Indians about me asking all sorts of
questions — that I would prefer to take bits

236

LIFE IN ALASKA.

from them, addinq; more and better ; but
they are wanted soon, and there will not
be tune. . . . Carrik M. Willard.

SiiKi.DoN Jackson iNsiiiurK,

Sitka, Alaska, October 24, 1882.

My Dear Parents: Restinof on one el-
bow, I am trying to write a little to send
by the U. S. S. Corwin on its way south
from the polar sea. I am sitting up part
of the time now. . . .

It does seem as though God had sent
our troubles to make our cup larger, and
then ordered it refilled with joy. " Not
our duty to go back again to that dreadful
country," you say? No, not till God opens
the way to go, I try to comfort myself
and gain patience and strength for biding
his time with the thought that he best knows
what his work needs ; and when he sees
us prepared and our work necessary, he
will send a boat to take us home. And
oh how gladly we will go ! The poor
people have been so on our hearts ! they
need us so much ! You write of them as
"dreadful people," and in one sense they

Lll'li IN ALASKA.

arc; but it is their darkness, tlKrir Minrl-
noss. And who hath made us to <liffcrr?
Surely, He whom we lon<^ to show to
th(-m.

October SO. — They are liavin^ ^n-at trou-
ble in Kill-is-noo, about halfway b<rtw<ren
here and Chilcat, where the North-West

idin(^ Company have their chief post,
.->iore and i^reat whale-fishery and oil -works,
W'hile they were puttintc u[) th(? wharf in
the spriniL^, one of the bullans was acci^lrmt-
ally killed by the falling of a tre(^ As he
was in the company's emplo)', (jf course,
in the eyes of Indian law, they were r<;Hprm'
sible, and a payment of two hundred blank-
ets was demanded. The company aj^recd
to pay forty, but Captain Merrinian, of
the man-of-war Adams, ordered that no
j)ayment should be made.

Things have gone on, until Sabbath lx>
fore last, when the launch and whah;'l>oat
were out after a whale, a harpoon -!>omb
burst, and one of the Indians — a medidne-
man — was killed. In a very short time
about three hundred of the tribe; had
surrounded the boats, which they captured,

238

LIFE IN ALASKA.

taking the white men prisoners. The cap-
tain of the launch made out to send a line
of advice to Captain Vanderb'lt, in the vil-
lage, that they would take the Favorite too.
The note was carried by one of the Indians
^vho had been in the boat with the medi-
cine-man and escaped to the woods from
his people. Captain Vanderbilt at once
conveyed his family to the Favorite, and,
leaving in the night, ran down here for the
man-of-war. Arriving the next evening, he
I' ft his family and started back at twelve
o'clock the same night, accompanied by the
Corwin, in charge of Captain Merriman and
his force. Four hundred blankets were de-
manded for taking die whites prisoners.
The Indians said they would not pay. The
captain gave the people two hours to re-
move their things, th^m commanded the
guns to fire ; and away went the village,
all but four houses which he wished saved;
fo^ty canoes were broken. He said " if he
was called there to settle any more such
troubles there would not be a man left to
tell there ever was such a tribe." The
effect of thij on our people will be of the

LIFE IN ALASKA.

239

Utmost moment to us ; but the Lord is God
and will care for his own work.

Dr. Sheldon Jackson was here four weeks,
and in that time they had the immense
Home-buildinor almost under roof. It is
a solid buildinor of one hundred by fifty
feet, in a beautiful location. On the Sab-
bath before he left we had our first com-
munion sin e leavinn^ home, and he bap-
tized our precious baby " Frederick Eugene
Austin." It seemed to me that I had hard-
ly known the meaning of communion be-
fore. Here, in the uttermost end of the
earth, a handful of believers, in a little
upper room, had sweet fellowship with
God and with his children throuofhout the
world. . . . Carrie M. Willard.

SHKi.noN Jackson Institi pk,

Sitka, Alaska, November 22, 1882.

Dear Parents: I sent you word by the
last mail of our littk; Carrie's illness, be-
cause we had no reason to hope that we
should not have the sadder news to tell
you this time, and I thought it would be
such a shock. For several days the doc-

240

LIFE IN ALASKA.

tor gave us no hope, but God has been
most merciful to us : she is slowly getting
well. She is not yet able to walk and is
still very thin and white, but living and
evidently getting well.

I had only begun to sit up for a few
minutes at a time when she was taken so
suddenly and dangerously ill. The doctor,
who had most providentially been sent here
just a few days before, was very attentive.
Two others were here temporarily on the
government vessels, and with them he con-
* suited several times. As it seemed, she
would surely have died without this aid ;
but, you see, God gave all that was neces-
sary, and oh how our hearts go out to him
for all his loving-kindness !

As to our going back to Chilcat, we feel
very certain that our work is there ; and
surely God has most signally revealed his
strong arm in our behalf. Has he not kept
us through everything? It is not at all
probable that we shall ever again be ex-
posed to the trials and sufferings which
we have endured; at any rate, God is able
to bring us through. We will be very

LIFE IN ALASKA.

241

happy to go back when he opens the way
for us.

The hardest thing about it is in regard
to food for the children. Of course, there
we have no fresh meat, eggs or milk.
Baby Fred is doing well on this cow's
good milk ; I do not like the thought of
taking it from him, but he is such a strong,
healthy little fellow he will not miss it as
much as will his little sister. We have
sent for imperial granum and Ridge's ba^'V-
food, and Mr. Willard will try to have ven-
ison sent from Juneau through the winter.

Haines is just being made a post-office,
through the efforts of Dr. Sheldon Jackson,
and Mr. Willard is to be postmaster ; so
we shall likely have a mail every month,
and after we ijet our steam-launch thin<rs
will be very different. We do appreciate
your efforts to gain that for us, and thank
you so much !

Another of God's great mercies to us
was his sending dear Bessie Matthews just
when he did. She has been everything in
this household.

Mrs. Ausdn has almost lost the use of

242

LIFE IN ALASKA.

her eyes. For more than a month the doc-
tor has not allowed her to do anything, and
Miss Matthews has been both hands and
eyes to her, besides sharing in the nursing.
Of all the unselfish people I have known,
my mother, Mrs. Austin and Bessie Mat-
thews stand at the head of the list.

Did I tell you that when dear Mother
Austin heard of our sickness she was de-
termined to come to us in a canoe? — a dis-
tance of over two hundred miles, in travers-
ing which many and many a canoe is lost.
And since we have been here her devotion
and love have never dimmed day or night.
No money could ever repay it, and I greatly
lonof to be able to do somcthimj for her. . . .
Our Chilcat Home is surely to be built. . . .

Carrie M. Willard.

To the Sabbath-School of the Presbyterian
Chtirch of East Springfield, New York.

Sheldon Jackson Institutk,

Sitka, Alaska, November 17, 18S2.

My Dear Friends: I think you must
have heard already of our long-continued
trials in sickness, as well as our great joy

LIFE IN ALASKA.

243

•ij.

over a beautiful new baby-boy, whom we
call Fred. He came to us on the 13th day
of September, just the day after that pre-
cious barrel came from you — the barrel
about which I was too ill to know anything
for six weeks. Then we had a grand open-
ing-day, and we wished, as you did, that
you could have been partakers with us of
that feast. There were some tears shed,
but I need not tell you that they were not
for grief.

I was still unable to sit up any, and, as
her papa unpacked the barrel in my room,
our little two-year-old Carrie trotted back
and forth, bringing me the things to look
at. She stood on tiptoe, trying to peer
into the treasure-house, and as one by
one the articles were lifted to her sight
she clapped her little hands before seizing
them, then ran with them to me, her face
all aglow and all the way calling, " Mam-
ma ! Oh, oh, mamma ! See ! Oh, oh !"
and her papa's and mamma's pleasure
was just as sincere as hers.

All the way from little Grace Robinson's
blocks and Joel Rathbun's baby-mittens to

244

LIFE IN ALASKA.

the dear old grandmodier's precious i^rccn
flannel, from the advertisini^ cards to that
great beautiful unabridcred Webster, every-
thing was full of beauty and grace to us, so
rich had they been made by your love. We
thank you a thousand times, and are still
your debtors in love. I should like to
speak to each dear giver and of each
gift individually, but it is impossible to
do so now.

That glad opening-day, so full of joy to
our little Carrie, was, I believe, the last day
she was able to be up. During my long
illness there had been no physician here,
but at this time there were three, or we
think our precious child could not have
lived through her terrible attack. For
days we watched and nursed her, not
knowing what hour would be the last of
that bright life with us ; but God spared
her, and she is now slowly recovering,
though still weak as a little babe and
very thin and white.

Of course, I am worn with much suffer-
ing and long watching ; so please pardon
if I write but a dull letter.

IJFE IN ALASKA.

245

Our " Home " is not begun, and our
hearts are full of sadness to think of our
poor people so long without us. We are
so happy and grateful for the deep and un-
expected interest that our Home-project has
created, and for the generous responses
to our call for means. We have been in-
formed of the receipt by the Woman's Ex-
ecutive Committee of Home Missions of
nearly one thousand dollars for this pur-
pose, and you know that we have the prom-
ise of more. Since this is the case, and we
have been prevented from beginning a lit-
tle and early Home, we are hoping to hear
of further contributions — enough to justify
our beginning, in the (rarly spring, a build-
in i^ to cost not above four thousand dol-
lars. To be able to accomplish this next
summer we must know that every cent is
certain, in time to send below to Oregon
and have the lumber come up on the spring
steamer. Our building, as we have planned
it, will be forty by sixty feet, for both boys
and girls, and will cost so much because
freights are about double those to Sitka.
The money sent to the Board should be

246

LIFE IN ALASKA.

plainly and emphatically labeled " For tJic
buildmg of the Chile at Ho7ne!'

Dr. Sheldon Jackson came up on the
September steamer to superintend the
building of the new Sitka Home, bring-
ing with him Miss Bessie L. Matthews,
of Monmouth, Illinois, to take charge of
our school in Haines. When our Home
is in full running-order, we will have an-
other teacher, and Miss Matthews will be
its worthy matron ; so you must know and
love her henceforth as a member of your
missionary family. Now she awaits our
return, when she will accompany us and
begin school-work ; but surely God sent her
when she came here, for what we all should
have done without her I do not know, as
good Mrs. Austin has had sickness in her
own family, and her eyes have been so
badly affected that the physician forbade
her doing anything.

Dr. Jackson also brought Miss Kate A.
Rankin as an assistant matron to Mrs. A.
R. McFarland at Fort Wrangell, and Miss
Clara A. Gould to take charge of the school
at Jackson, under her brother, who recently

LIFE IN ALASKA.

247

entered that field. He and Mr. McFarland
(who married Miss Dunbar at Fort Wran-
gell) were laymen ordained for this work.

We have now five Presbyterian ministers
in Alaska — Mr. John G. Brady, who came
out to the Sitka mission in 1878, but is now
engaged in mercantile business here, Mr.
S. H. Young, who has charge of the Wran-
gell work, my husband and the two new
comers first mentioned. This number
enables us to have a Presbytery, and at
our first meeting we hope to have Mr. Aus-
tin, of this station, ordained. Although he
was commissioned by the Board as a lay-
teacher, he has been, and is, doing most
excellently a minister's work here. Our
meeting is to convene at Sitka, as it is the
most central station, being about two hun-
dred and seventy-five miles south of Haines,
one hundred and fifty miles north-west of
Fort Wrangell, and about two hundred and
seventy-five miles north of Jackson. Hoon-
yah (Boyd) where Mr. Styles, a son-in-law
of Mr. Austin, taught last year, is about
halfway to Haines and north of Sitka.
Haines is by steamer one hundred and five

J48

LIFE IJV A/.ASfCA.

miles, by canoe only seventy-five miles, from
Juneau.

We have had no word from our field
since August. Mrs. Dickinson, our inter-
preter, had a two months' vacation from
that time, which she has spent in Oregon.

Our Sunday services are conducted
through an interpreter, but our teaching
is not. We are learning Kling-get just
as fast as we can, and hope to be able to
do without an interpreter in a few months
more ; had it not been for our long sick-
ness, we would now be able to do so. As
it is, we communicate with the people ordi-
narily without trouble. Of course, in the
school we teach English, and the little folks
pick it up rapidly, though they are very dif-
fident about trying to use it, because they
are so keenly sensitive to ridicule ; the
sliijhtest smile at a mistake will bring: on
such a fit of sulks as utterly to preclude
the possibility of another sound from that
child. When I gain a little more strength,
I must tell you some other things about our
people.

Before another quarter we hope the Mas-

///•/; IN ALASKA.

249

ter will send us back to our own work in
Chilcat, but by what means we do not
know. Carrie M. Willard.

To the SabbatJi-ScJiool of the Presbyterian
ChiircJi of' East Springfield, New York.

Sheldon Jackson Institutk,

Sitka, Alaska, December 21, 1882.

My Dear Friends : To-day I shall try to
fulfill my promise of writiuLi^ you something
further regarding our Chilcat people. And
first it shall be respecting their belief as to
death and the future life and their mode of
disposing of the dead.

With them, as with us, man is an immor-
tal soul, livinii;- for ever in bliss or distress.
Their heaven they call '* the beautiful, beau-
tiful island," being surrounded by a green
water so vast and limitless that no spirit
can find its way to rest and happiness.
Even to the outer edge — to the earth-side —
of this Indian's eternity it is a long, weary
way, for the comfort and successful issue
of which great preparations are made.
They destroy at a burial-feast the savings
of a lifetime and rob the living to heap

250

IJFE /N A /.AS A' A.

upon the dead. As soon as it becomes
evident or probable that a person is about
to die all effort at savinijf the life is <riven
up and every ene»"iTy bent toward ensur-
ing a comfortable journey.

Last winter, when a little child was sick
and suffering greatly from exposure and
inadequate clothing, I insisted on its pa-
rents bringing out blankets and keeping
the baby warm, but " they had none " —
" they were poor ;" neither could they buy
any food for it. After keeping it in my own
house and tendin<j it till it ffrew much hvx-
ter, I dressed it in <rood warm clothIn<if of
my own baby's — woolen stockings, skirt,
etc. ; then, charging the mother that she
must keep it so dressed, that its life de-
pended on it, I allowed her to take it home.
At midniofht there was a knock on our win-
dow, and, springing up, I found the father
of the child in great distress, begging me
to come, as they thought the child was dy-
ing. A few moments more and I was with
the little one, who lay in his mother's arms
unconscious and scarcely breathing. It
was evidently congestion of the lungs, from

LIFE IN ALASKA.

251

which he had no strcncrth to rally. Ihry
had stripped him upon i^oiii^ hoiivr, and
folded dway the ii^arments in a trcasiire-
hox, to be in readiness if he should di^r.

When I saw him next, it was in full i'.(\\xs\>-
ment for the journey. The small fac<r was
painted with vermilion, the head turbaned
with a br'<;ht handkerchief, and every arti-
cle of '^'^'^y clothing he possessed, to;(«(;ther
with what i had i^iven him, was on him nowj
and, besides, they had mad(i mitten** and
ti(!d them on his hands. In a little bag hung
about his neck were charms for his safety
and a paper containing a cpiantily of red
powder for use on the way. I'he body was
placed in a sitting posture, v;ith the knees
drawn up against the breast and held in
place by a bandage. Then over and around
all were beautiful white woolen blankets
enough to make any mother's heart com-
fortable.

The body always sits thus in state until
all the arrangements are perfected for its
burning, which takes place at sunrise. On
the night before, the friends of the tribe are
called together at the house of the deceasird,

25:

LIFE IN ALASKA.

when the roll of rank is called, the highest
chief beinir calhxl first. One man takes his
])osition close to the oreat blazin<r fire in
the centre of the room. The loo;s are piled
toi^ether for this social fire in loo-house
fashion, four-square and three or four hi^h,
the flames sometimes reachinof even throu^rh
and above the roof. Me has beside him a
large wooden tray of tobacco, from which
he fills the pipe- bowls of all the friends.
One by one, as they are filled, a little boy
lights and starts them, then hands them to
the waiting circle. They are smoked and
exchaiiiji'ed a^rain and ajjain in silence, ex-
cept for the occasional slow and solemn
sjjeech of some member, which elicits now
and then a monotonous refrain from an-
othc^r, all retaining th(Mr seats Then the
chlc^fs with woo(l(Mi staves beat time on the
lloor, while the men sing a wild and weird
st-ain, into which, ever antl anon, tlie wo-
men, with dieir blackened faces and close-
cut hcilr, burst vvith shri'l cries, which fall
again into a low dying wail. At sunrise
the body, which has been wrapjjed, and
wra])ped again, in the best of blankets, is

nin

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' IllI.CAr MAM IN NATIVK COSIl'MK, WIIH WodDI N HAP
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J''rt)i>i ii I'rini'inf; I'y Mrs. Wiliard.

hn(

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Tea

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LIFE IN ALASKA.

255

raised by ropes made of skin throu^^h the
openin<j in the roof, as no Indian would
dare to carry a dead body throui^h the
door. Some of the other tribes take out a
board from the back of the house, and after
removing through it the body a dog is led
through, that any attending evil may fall
upon it.

The cremation takes place at some dis-
tance from the houses. What stands for
their burying-ground is usually of a rolling
character — that is, on a little hill — and pre-
sents a peculiar appearance, a village of
miniature houses, each built on four hi^rh
stakes. These houses are the receptacles
of the box into which have been put the
bones and ashes of the burned body, and
are never opened save by the " witches,"
who leave no outward traces of their visits,
and by the friends of some " bewitched "
person, who search for the misplaced bone
that has caused the trouble.

On the nii^ht after the burnintr of the
body is celebrated the " Co-ek-y " — the
feast for the dead. Another tribe is in-
vited. Red paint is used with the black.

256

LIFE IN ALASKA.

There is much noisy music and dancing.
Great quantities of berries and salmon-oil

TdlKM ni^II OK CINNAMON I!1;AR OR HOOTS TRIHK, WITH

lAIU.K MAI". If

From a /'>/ inc/iii^ by Mrs. II il/arci.

are brouo-ht out in huire dishes and placed
on the door before the f^uests (or amonj^
them, rather, as every bowl is surrounded) ;
then, as they eat to^rether, wooden dishes
of similar food and of Hour, sugar, and
whatever else they are able to obtain, are
placed in the fire and burned ; so that, be-
ing thus spiritualized, as they think, it may
be partaken of by the spirit of their friend,
so lately freed from the body by fire, and
which is still hoverimj;- about before start-
ing on the journey. After this the music
and dancinij;- are aijain resumed, and then
comes the display for which the entin; fam-
ily has been saving and gathering — it may

LIFE IN ALASKA.

257

be, many years — and for which they gen-
erally suffer in absolute want for years to
con.e. Great heaps of blankets, all new
and good, webs of cloth, muslin and calico.

CIIIl.CAT SlIAWI, MADK KROM NIK \V« lol. OK niK WILD MOUN-
TAIN (JOAT AND fOVKKKl) Willi TOTKMIC EMHI.KMS.

are broutrht out and laid b(?fore a man
appointed to dispose of them. With two
assistants he cuts and tears all these things
into small strips. This being done with a

258

LIFE IN ALASKA.

peculiar carvexl and inlaid hook kept for
that purpose, they are distributed among
the people, who treasure them as precious
possessions, and by sewing them together
construct a garment after the style of
Joseph's coat of many colors. Sometimes
we see a coat made of three pieces obtained
at different times, when the body will be
striped red, yellow, purple and green, one
sleeve of blue, the other of brown. Dresses
are gotten up in the same unique fashion —
it may be, of a dozen different patterns and
colors.

This feast ends the ceremonies, which,
according to their belief, are participated
in by the dead. Afterward, if the deceased
be a male of high class, the heir or heiress
must build a i^i'^at dwellincr-house with
feasting and dancing, to stand an empty
monument to the departed.

To this prevailing custom there are no
exceptions, save in the preserving of the
bodies of the medicine-men, and in cases
of drowning when the body cannot be re-
covered. The bodies of medicine-men are
never burned, because their spirits leave

LH'E in ALASKA.

259

the bodies only to enter new ones. It is
thus that the " K^ih-naiik-salute " (" medi-

' — I

MKDICINK-MKN" (;KAVKS

cine-man ") is born. If, after the death of
an Indian doctor, a woman dreams that his
spirit has entered her unl)orn child, or if
a child is born with red hair or with curly
hair, it is sacred from its birth, and its hair
is inviolate always from shears or comb.
After his death th(! body is held in terrible
awe, and is wrapp^-d in the best of every-
thing. His face is painted with red, his

26o

LIFE IN ALASKA.

hair powdered widi eagle's down (which
he used to a great extent in his incanta-
tions), and at last he is bound in his wraps
like a mummy and laid away in some wild
rocky gorge, or in a cave which the waves
have worn.

There is always great virtue pertaining
to the body of a medicine-man, and its
presence is indispensable at the initiation
of new doctors. I have been with the In-
dians in passing by one of these sepulchres,
and it is always with hushed tones and ges-
tures of awe and terror that they speak of
what it holds. If they have with them young
children as they pass the haunted spot, a
handful of down is held over the child and
blown away, to carry off any evil influence
that may have been cast upon it by the
dark spirits that guard the place.

More than any other form of death, more
than the most excruciating torture, the In-
dian dreads drowning. Going through the
water, he is never utterly freed from the
clogs of earth; he is unequipped for the
journey through a land of mystery ; for
ages he must wander hungry and cold.

I.ir'E IN ALASKA.

261

with scarcely a possibility of at last finding
the great green water which lies between
every soul and heaven. When a soul has
gained for itself the right to eternal happi-
ness, it sees, upon approaching the great
river, a canoe in waiting to convey it to
the happy land ; a sure entrance and an
everlasting security are assured. The wick-
ed also gain the shore, but are doomed to
eternal waiting. Carrie M. Willard.

To the Ladies Home Mission Society., Schen-
ectady, New York.

Shki.don Jackson Institute,

Sitka, Alaska, November 29, 1882.

My Dear Mrs. Poiter: If ever i write
you, you say. If ever I do not write after
receiving such tokens of loving thought
as those two packages from Schenectady
proved to be, I shall not be myself. At
any rate, I am so glad of that writing-pa-
per which you so kindly sent ! We thank
you, and through you wish to thank all the
good people who had part in the good deed.
It is only in circumstances like ours, cut off
from home comforts, that Christian friend-

262

LIFE IN ALASKA.

ship can bo appreciated at its full worth.
Even the slightest tokens, when sent so
far and received by us in our isolation and
loneliness, bring with them a strange pow-
er to warm and thrill our hearts.

Would you truly like to hear h w the
bundles were opened? Well, it was in
Sitka instead of in Chilcat, because we
have had no way of getting home since
our beautiful baby-boy came, in September.

On the day after the steamer left, when
Mr. Austin opened his box and brought to
us our share Oi its contents, baby Fred lay
asleep in his cradle, sick Carrie sat propped
among her pillows, with her mamma close
beside, while on the floor before us papa
disclosed the treasures. The first thing
which attracted my attention was the blue-
and-white coverlet. It looked so familiar
and home-like, for my own dear mother
spun the yarn for and wove just such a one
long before she was my mother ; and this is
a fine specimen. I know its labor-cost well
enough to appreciate its worth, and it will
be additionally valuable to us. I know we
shall be besieged for it by the covetous

LIFE IN ALASKA.

263

Chilcats. Next came tlu; nice white \wA-
spread and sheets and pillowcases, the tow-
els, the warm woolly blankets, etc., all of
which, as they came to view, broiight new
exclamations of delight. Last of all we
looked at the little thin<j^s for baby Carrie,
and I do wish that you all could have seen
her as they were handed to her. Her
pleasure was an ecstacy. She must have
them on right away; and when I had put
on her the little blue dress, it would have
added much to our pleasure if the good
mother whose darling had first worn it
could have seen mine wear it then. She
is called a beautiful child, and I think she
is, with her long sunny curls, big blue eyes
and wonderful skin, and she looked so
sweet in the perfectly-fitting little dress !
They are exacdy the right size. Katch-
keel-ah, our little Indian girl, was also
thoroughly pleased with her mittens, while
even the little black urchin who peeped in
at the window had his share of the glad-
ness. Let us all thank you again.

We do not know how soon the way will
be opened for our return home, but we

264

J. I IE IN ALASKA.

hope it may be before loiii^. We are loii^-
injj^ to be back witli our own people.

Have you heard that we are to have a
Home for children at Haines? It is to be
built next summer, and I am ^oini^ to tell
) ()U that we will need everything" for it, from
a piece of soap to curtains and carpet, from
shoes to bonnets and capes. We are to
have both boys and ^nrls ; and wlum time
and stren<^th will permit, I shall be (^lad to
t(;ll you more of our plans and of our work.
But for this time I must close.

Gratefully and affectionately yours,

Cakrik M. Willaki).

SiiKi,iM)N Jackson Institutk,

Sitka, Alaska, Marcli 12, iS8^.

My Dear Friknds: Why, yes indeed I
will tell you about Sitka ! Did you think
it was on Sitka Island ? I thou£i^ht so once,
but I have not been able to find it so out-
side the geographies. I well remember
trying, before we came to Alaska, to get
its points by heart ; but the more I learned,
the less I knew.

I do hope that I shall not puzzle you

■

LIFE IN ALASKA.

267

furilu;r. Sitka is situated on a I' an ti fill
harbor bearing the same name and in-
denting the western coast of Baranoff Isl-
and. Great mountains to the east and the
north stand i^uard over the little town nest-
linLT at thcnr feet, shelterinir it from the cold
winds and snow that, blowini^ from the far
icy inland, strike these old protectors and
turn their stern heads white. Seaward, too,
island fortifications thrown up in the long-
ago shield this favored child-city from the
rouMiness of the waters.

It is not cold here. At the foot of the
mountains there is, indeed, enough ice on
the little lake (whose waters, (lowing tlown,
keen turninLT the threat wheel of the: saw-
mill in the town) to make skating — for
some days, at least — during the short win-
ter, and enough snow falls to make a hand-
sled quite a pleasure on the long, smooth
street. The small folks — ay, and the big
ones too, I can testify — enjoy it greatly. The
little Indians ride just like white boys, only —
do you know ? — I've never seen them going
"grinders." They do slide in every other
way, I believe, and on every conceivable

268

r.II'E IX ALASA'A.

kind of sled ; hut boxes, bits of board and
shinirlt^s are the most fashionable.

Alonzo Austin has quite a novel turn-
out for this part of Alaska ; it is a little
seated sleii^h drawn by a biij;" black doi^,
which he has nicely trained to the whip.
This doLT will run for a rnile or two without
seemino;' to <^row tired. Not only that, but
he really seems to enjoy the fun as much
as anybody. I^lvery one has to be quick
about enjoying it, for it doesn't stay loni^.
The (ground may chancre 'ri an hour from
its native j^ray to the snowy white math;
<^ay with noisy children, and in an hour
more all the snow may have vanished and
the rain be pouriiti;^ down.

There is a i^reat deal of rain here. You
know that in the States a foot and a half
is about an averai^e annual rainfall, but the
rainfall of Sitka for the year 1882 was about
eight and a half feet; yet the humidity of
the atmosphere is very much less than that
of many portions of the United States where
there is much less rain. If the people were
good and cleanly and more careful about
drainage, there is no reason why Sitka

sh
dil

Cl(

f.I'R IN ALASKA.

269

should not bt .. healthful place. The con-
ditions of healthfulness are here.

MAIV SIR .'■T, SITKA, ALASKA.

The town itself is a little old, tumble-
down affair more; remarkable for its mossy

lyo

LIFE //V ALASKA.

Russian ruins tlian for anything else. And
yet there is one feature made more strik-
ingly prominent uy these very tilings — a
fact wliich is very sweet to Christians —
that striking far beneath this heap of social
rottenness and the decay of earthly splen-
dor there is a root which, springing up,
shall one day bear the white flower of im-
mortal life, the fruit of glory to Cjod. We
saw the blade in the first little mission
school started here, and wliich developed
into the first Home for boys. The build-
ing, which was a [lart of crumbling Rus-
sia, was destroyed by lire in January of
1882. Ar.d now we sec not only a fresh
green blade of promise, but the " ear," in
the great new l)uilding for a h'mdred boys
and girls which Dr. Sheldon Jackson erect-
ed last summer. You, and those whom
your means have sent out work together
with the Lord of the harvest for the filling
of the "full corn in the ear." Let us labor
faithfully and with prayer, that at the last
there may be a great and joyous gather-
ing in and rendering up of the precious
grain.

Lll'E IN AI./ISA'A.

273

The new mission hiiilclin^^ is at the ex-
treme edii^e of town, with old Popoff Moun-
tain behind, ahiiost overhani;in<^^ it. At the
other end of th(* lonj/ town, in a part from
whicli, diirinL^ Kiissian rule;, tlie main town
was barricaded, is the native villaire, with
its front open to the bay, and with a hijj^hcr
ridg^e of ground clos(! behind, and which is
ahiiost as thickly built with httle hous'.'s for
the dead. As a natural barrier, i^reat rociv;i
push out from this ridj^rc; toward the bay,
just at the entranc(! to the v'.llag^e ; and
there where rock and wat(T fail to meet, is
the builded barricade, with but a single
openintr into th(* smooth t^rc^en common.
The latter i ; now used for such out-door
games as are played by the young people
and for a parad(;-ground by the marines.
It seems, however, to hav(! beeti in the old
days a park, whosct picturesque music-stand
still remains. Hut the trees, together with
the pleasant cotlage-r(;sidences occupied
by the Russian ofric(;rs, and which sur-
rounded two sid<"i of th(; park, were burned
down lonL{ ai/o. A sione wall on the third
side, set with cannon, kept th(; law between

274

LIFE. IN ALASKA.

land and sea. Alonir the fourth side — and
this just opposite the barricade — still stand
the custom-house and the barracks, between
which, c^uarded by mounted brass cannon,
is the double gate entrance to the "castle,"
built on a \\\\A\ rock overlookinir both town
and harbor and reached by means of weari-
some fliofhts of stairs. This immense old
log structure, with the arched windows of
its hiiTh-irabled centre roof lookimx out to
sea, is the third buildin<r which has occu-
pied this rock- top. Of the others, the first
was destroyed by fire ; the second, a brick
building, by earthquake. I^nt all three
have been scenes of much macrnificence
as the residence of the ruling prince. The
hewn loi^fs of this buildinof are fitted into
each other like round-bottomcHl troughs,
with moss and clay between, and are dovc;-
tailed at the corners, through each of whii h
passes a great copper bolt from roof to
foundation.

During Russian reign Sitka was hill of
life and gayety, having, besides its prince's
family, his suite, government officials with
their families, and the military There were

/.///; IN ALASKA.

275

h
to

ith

also the officers ofthe Gref-k Church; for, as
you know, many of its priests and bishops
are members of the Russian army. The
church at that time was rich, mat^mificent
with its pictures, its o-old-wrouL,''ht and jew-
eled frames and hancrin<jfs. Much of this
wealth was stolen, it is said, by the soldiers
after the territory was i)urchased by the
United States ^^overnment. There were,
too, at that early time, several i^ood schools
and a seminary. There were, also, ship-
ping'-yards with "ways" for launchin<^ ves-
sels of a thousand tons. After the transfer
of title, and the consequent removal of near-
ly all the better class of Russians, civiliza-
tion sank to almost native rudeness, with-
out one saving- hand. Schools ceased, in-
dustries failed and the principal aim of the
United States military force stationed here
seems to have been the rapid and total
destruction of good. The worst part of a
civilized world they did indeed bring, intro-
ducing its bad whisky, which, running riot
ever since, is rapidly reducing a once- rug-
ged race to extinction.

In front of the oovernment buildings.

276

LIFE IN ALASKA.

passini^ throiii^li the common, is the hard
smooth avenue runninj^ directly throuq^h
the town from the wharf back of the bar-
racks to Sheklon Jackson Institute, and for
a mile beyond throuj^h the evergreens,
which, opening here and there, give lovely
glimpses of the bay. There are no horses
and carriages to travel this road now,
though in Russian days, I am told, they
were both numerous and fine. The near-
est approach here at present to such an
equipage is a '* big wagon " drawn by a
team of mules, which was brought up for
work in the mines. There are, besides,
of four-footed travelers, three or four cows,
several goats, two sheep, and dogs innumer-
able. The stock of vehicles includes a hand-
cart, a water-barrel on wheels, a baby-car-
riage or two and some wheelbarrows.

The two-story mission building of the
Sheldon Jackson Institute, one hundred
feet front and fifty feet deep, stands on
an eminence which slopes gently to the
beach just where the avenue, following the
water-line, enters the green wood, and a
branch road to the left winds up around

LIFE IN ALASKA.

277

the house and throuirh the brushwood
farm at its rear. The house is frame,
plainly and substantially built, containingr,
besides the teacher's apartments and those
intended for the home of the children, a
larjj^e room for the accommodation of the
day-school, and which is also used for the
Sabbath services. There are now in the
Home twenty-four boys, whose aj^es range
from eii^ht to seventeen years. Most of
them are quick to learn, and some show
quite an aptness for trades. They are
very much interested in the progress of
the building-, going out in squads last fall,
under Mr. Styles's direction, to cut and tow
in logs for lumber and for the foundation.
Two or three have done well on the car-
penter work. They patch their own shoes,
do their own ba'^-ring quite creditably,
and many carve in spare moments their
favorite and odd tlofures of fish, the crow
and duck. Miniature ships, too, they get
up with much ingenuity, full-rigged, and
little Indian canoes.

These boys are growing ambitious, too,
it seems. I heard of a council that they

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(716) 873-4503

278

I.IFR IN ALASKA.

held alone one night just after the old In-
dians had been trying to prevail on Ru-
dolph (who was about sixteen years of
age) to become the husband of his uncle-
chief's old widow, that he might inherit the
property. The boy could not be persuaded,
and that night there was a very free ex-
pression of opinion by all the boys. Archie
seemed to speak for all, however, when he
said, very seriously, " I would never marry
dirty old Ingun for a thousand dollars. I
never marry her. When I'm a man, I
want to take good, clean girl for wife. I
want her to know books and to housekeep
like Boston girl. I not like it — my house
— all dirty, my children not washed."

Several of the boys have selected their
little wives-to-be, and are very anxious
that Mrs. Austin should take them into
the family and train them to " housekeep."
1 believe that she intends doing so.

Knowing this native habit of early se-
lection, I one day inquired if Willie had a
little girl in view. " Oh yes," was the an-
swer; "when Willie learn plenty of book,
he want litde girl too."

LIFE IN ALASKA.

279

Some of the boys in this Home have
been rescued from the pangs of witch-
craft torture, others from illnesses which
without the missionary's care must have
proved fatal. The most notable of the
latter is the case of Lawrence, nicknamed
by the boys •' Sick Man."

You remember — do you not? — that in
my first letter from Sitka, almost two
years ago, among other requests was that
for articles which would make the sick-
room pleasant and comfortable, and I
spoke of a litde boy who the physician
said could not get well. He was then a
great sufferer, and it seemed probable that
he would very soon be an inmate of that
sick-room, for he was dying inch by inch
from a terrible abscess. Well, that boy,
cured under the missionary's care, was the
very boy who saved both life and property
on that fearful night of the burning of the
Home. All had been sleeping soundly,
when a boy, arousing, smelled smoke. He
turned to his neighbor and asked what it
could mean. Concluding that it must be
morning and that breakfast was being pre-

28o

LIFE IN ALASKA.

pared, the boys dozed again. But once
more they awoke, and this time hastened
to see what the trouble really was. The
building was in flames. By this time lit-
tle Lawrence awoke, and, seeing the dan-
ger, ran hastily and alone to the great
mission bell, and, ringing it fast and loud,
awoke the missionary's family and the
people of the town, who came rushing to
their aid. This boy is now one of the
strongest of his age in the school, and is
one of the chief workers.

Allen, too, has a history. His motJ^er
(a woman of the Hoochinoo tribe, living
about ninety miles north of Sitka) was un-
der torture for witchcraft, having already
been for some days without food in that
terrible crouching, tied-down position with
the head drawn back and lashed to a short
stake in the ground. One night the boy
at last completed his secret arrangements
for her deliverance. Stealing softly out
into the darkness, he cut loose all the
thongs that bound his mother, and hurried
her, with her little babe, down to the wa-
ter's edge, when, stowing them into the

LIFE IN ALASKA.

2%\

canoe which he had secured for ^y^ (ittZk-
<;ion, they pushed off and paddW im i\\(^\x
lives, hunted to the death all ijjov^ k>n^
nicr-hts. Against the tide, in hun^^rf, |>^tin
and weariness, they reached Sitk;^ ^t-X'^,
where the mother found at least '4. it/'mpo-
rary shelter wath the Indians, and \w.f Wave
little son, I am so glad to say, Urnai^ a
home in Sheldon Jackson Instituitxj^

Moses Jamestown is another l^^yy to
whom this Home has been as a (Ciiiiy of
refuge. Having been left an ox^^l^n af>d
to an Alaska orphan's fate, he W^A H/y .Hitka
from Hoonyah and from slavery, Vmt the
curse (which proved, at last, a bl<ti>^ir^^, as
so many curses do) followed \\m% '4n(\ he
was accused of witchcraft. Hit? l/yrture
had begun, but as the hour for \m f^c^tw-
tion approached his rescuers <:Mm*. from
the U. S. S. Jamestown, then ^H^Hji^med
here, and whose commanding offsK^^ had
just learned of the poor boy's jxifiit The
rhild was taken on board ship nni^l the
Ffome was opened, when he waj> \%%n(\(i<S
(wtr to the guardianship of th<^ /*i)ii<^J^n-
ary, Mr. Austin.

282

LIFE IN ALASKA.

The present house, thougli a large one,
is but a nucleus for the several hoped-for
buildings to be grouped about it as the way
and means open and increase. For it is
designed to make this the principal trade-
school of Alaska. Sitka, as you know, oc-
cupies the central position, geographically,
among the Presbyterian missions of Alas-
ka; and although a Home — and a good
Home — at each of the stations seems a
necessity to the best progress of the work,
yet it would seem to be a wise economy to
concentrate force so far as to provide the
best facilities for the teaching of trades in
the one and centrally located school, to
which all may have access as the pecu-
liar tastes and aptitudes of the children
are discovered in each mission by its own
teachers. . . . Carrie M. Willakd.

To the Sabbath-School of the Presbyterian
Church of East Springfield, New York.

Chilcat Mission,

Haines, Alaska, May S, i88.;.

My Dear Friends: Can you imagine
the joy of being able at last to write "at

LIFE IN ALASKA.

283

home " ? You can hardly appreciate it,
and our every moment is too full to try
to tell you what it is.

We reached Haines on Sabbath, April
8, after a voyage of about four days, hav-
ing- taken the steamer on the 4th inst. We
had had about two weeks of perfect weath-
er, the air balmy, the sun warmly bright and
the sea a glassy calm. How we longed
to be on the way ! At length, on March
31 (Saturday), the Rose made her trial-
trip, during which it was discovered that
her new condensing-pipes were altogeth-
er insufficient, and so, for the third time,
it was necessary to beach her. Monday
morning found her again on the sands,
when the old machinery was replaced,
and on Tuesday we were rejoiced at re-
ceiving word that our freight would be
taken on next day. Tuesday night came on
with heavy rain, which continued with raw,
chilling winds throughout the three days
following. In spite of the best care which
I could give them, both little ones took
heavy colds during the packing. Every-
thing got wet in going down to the boat,

284

LIFE IN ALASKA.

and we ourselves tramped down through
the rain with two sleepy babies and bun-
dles innumerable that Wednesday night
at ten o'clock. That was the hour of hicrh
tide, the only time that we could get down
from the dock to the little boat. The only
stateroom on the Rose opens out upon
deck ; very open as to weather, but very
close as to air. It measures six by eight
feet, with three bunks on each side, the
only v/indow a skylight of two panes. On
the voyage down I had preferred the open
deck at nicrht, when the waves and rain
both wet us, but this time, by dint of good
management in stepping out to turn around,
and by waiting without until some of the
party were stowed away in their bunks, we
all six succeeded in finding shelter. V/e
had to furnish our own pillows and bed-
clothing, which after the trip to the boat
were damp enough to begin with ; but the
rain came through both roof and sides.
We could not leave the wharf till low tide,
at 4.20 A.M., because that would bring us
into the rapids at next high tide — the only
time possible for us to get through them

LIFE IN ALASKA.

285

out into the open channel. At last, 4.20
came. We left Sitka in the gray light
Thursday morning, and reached the rap-
ids at eleven o'clock, when we found that
we had missed going through with the tide
by just twenty minutes. We steamed
away for an hour, but barely holding our
own, making no headway at all. There
was nothing for it but to throw out our
anchor and await the next rise, at three
p. M., which we did, and at a little after that
hour were rushed into Peril Strait, where we
found rough water and had all we could do
to reach Lindenburg Harbor. Even then
we were so tossed about that I lost my bal-
ance and fell into real sea-sickness. The
rain still came down, and our beds were
wet ; but the night passed, though the
storm continued until the afternoon, when
the clouds lifted a little and the wind fell.
Taking up anchor at four p. m., we ran
boldly out to the channel, when, after a
mile or so, it was found that a pin was
loose in the engine, and we stopped to fix
it. This proved to be only a trifling hin-
drance ; but when we looked about again,

286

LIFE IN ALASKA.

the fog had gathered so thick as positively
to drive us back to our shelter in the little
harbor, where we lay at anchor until three
o'clock on Saturday morning.

In the afternoon the men took the small
boats and went ashore for water, wood and
clams. Mr. Willard took Miss Matthews
and our little Indian girl to secure speci-
mens of the lovely moss and shells which
we could see from deck. The clam-beach
was perfect, and the island woods and moss
were — well, like the woods and moss of
Alaska — deep, dense and grand, while the
different kinds of starfish and sea-urchins
looked like great flowers. The real flow-
ers were full of fragrance that spoke sweet
things of springs long agone in the dear
old home-land. So another night settled
down upon us by the way — the very night
which we had dearly hoped would bring
us home. But God had been guiding us
and — hindering us; for — do you know? —
had we been twenty minutes earlier and
made the tide at the rapids, we should have
been hurled into Peril Straits with a storm,
and perhaps never have reached a harbor.

LIFE IN ALASKA.

287

Then, afterward, had we not been detained
near a place of safety until the fog-bank
arose, we would have been surrounded by
rrreat danc^er.

The rain had ceased, the sea was quiet,
and we but waited to have our way made
plain before us. Here and there a star
twinkled through in the zenith, but around
and about us the gray-white wall was im-
penetrable until near morning. We took up
anchor at three o'clock on Saturday morn-
ing. The sun arose a little uncertainly,
but by noon had declared himself master
of the day, and we were able to open the
door of our little ark and venture out on
deck. After all, we said, we had had more
of solid comfort than we had on the great
fine steamer Dakota from San Francisco
two years ago ; and we like the little Rose,
with its free meals any time you may be
able to eat, and its cozy kitchen-fire, where
babies can be warmed and fed without in-
sulting the cook.

Lindenburg Harbor is but a few miles
from Chatham Straits ; so we were soon in
that broad channel, whose waters only a few

inn

LIFE INT ALASKA.

hoors before must have been in a fury, but
fif)»w were so placid and smooth as to give
f>a€k reflections like a looking-glass. Cross
Sf>iind and Hoonyah Mountains, in the dis-
tance, were like grounds of enchantment.
Billowy clouds and snowy peaks touched
with the pink and gold of strengthening
«^<r/light were easily transfigured into cas-
tl^Tft with battlements and towers, while the
!W)»ft green of sky and water brought them
imX, in charming relief.

As we sighted Hoonyah Point, Mr.
Willard asked little Katch-keel-ah (Carrie
VntA Wallace) if she would like to go in
tb^^re. Her " No, sir !" was quick and
|yaihetic. It was her old home, and she
said, " My heart too sick to think about
^o to Injun again."

The day passed in beauty and in swift,
quiet sailing. Just as the sun was setting,
in fiviich glory as is never seen elsewhere, it
^■rems to me, we entered Lynn Channel.
Pa!%!%ing Cross Sound on the left hand and
Vmnx. Retreat on the right (which are re-
!(>[>«€tively the open gateway of Hoonyah
and the signpost of Juneau's min' :. i, we

I.irE /N Af.ASh'A.

289

wciH* within the close?, i^rand passage wliich,
ahiiost without a break in its mountain-
wall, leads to our front doo»* on Portat^e
Ikiy. 1 cannot tell you what a 1< elini^ took
possession of us as, leavin^^ all the world
behind, we entered this i^rcat hallway of
our own dear ChiU:at country Oh the joy
oi oretdnof back to it at last ! All the suffer-
inof we ever endured in it was as nothinof
compared to that of beingr kept out of it so
lono-, away from our people and our work.
May God as richly bless to the people our
return as we feel that he blesses us in
brinirinir us back !

We sat on deck watchinj^ the ever-vary-
in*^ li_f(ht and shade on passing scenes and
singing songs both gay and sweet till the
purpling of the shadows and the calling
of the gulls warned me that little birdies
should be in their nests. I tucked mine in
then with grateful gladness at the thought
that hitherto our Father had brouofht us,
and thai another wakini^ miafht be the
opening of our eyes on home.

But it was not — quite. As the cold
gray morning began to steal through our

290

LIFE IN ALASKA.

little skylight I became conscious of some-
thing peculiar in our situation. I could not
tell whether it was sound or motion that
startled me, until there was a bump and
a recoil. A sudden ceasing of the engine's
noise, a hasty raking out of its fire, and we
were sinking — sinking down so gradually
and so almost imperceptibly that 1 scarcely
realized our position until I found Baby
just rolling out of his berth. I called the
others, and Mr. Willard went out to see what
the trouble was. We were lying at about
forty-five degrees, and walking was a feat.
Little Carrie, fortunately, was on the low
side with Miss Matthews. I, with baby
Fred, was obliged to be boarded in and
lie in the trough formed by bottom and
side. Just around the lower point of Port-
age Bay the inlet is very wide ; just above
are the glaciers, the Chilcoot, the Dy-ya
and the K-hossy Heen Inlets, which, carry-
inof sand from the mountains, have at this
time made large deposits, forming sand-
fields of great extent, though all are cov-
ered at high tide. Still, close to the rocky
western shore there is a channel throucrh

^^^■'■^

^fc*ii3i;

***& •

'.ft,' *Si-

?^^

ALASKA MOUNTAIN-SCKNEKY.

ii
h

u
ti

tl
h
h
b
cl

LIFE IN ALASKA.

293

all tides wide and deep and strong; our
pilot had missed it, and the tide, fast run-
ning out, left us lying on a hill four miles
from home. Every object was familiar;
we were at home, yet not in it.

We rolled around till afternoon, when
high tide took us off, and we came safely
into harbor just in time to see the people
going from the litde schoolhouse, wh.=^re
Louis Paul (who had been down for a
week from the upper village) had been
having Sunday-school. Of course, the In-
dians crowded about on every hand, say-
ing that " they had thought they should die
before we came again." " They had looked
for us without sleeping." "They needed
us so much ! They had had sickness and
trouble, and they had no minister." We
found the men nearly all gone into the
Stick country (the interior) packing for
the miners ; some were at the cannery-
building across the Chilcat River. They
had taken up the little bodies that were
buried a year ago and burned them. They
did not have nearly as much snow this win-
ter. Still, they wanted us back.

294

LIFE IN ALASKA.

By the following Sabbath we had cleaned
out the schoolhouse, made some new benches,
washed the windows, put up short curtains
of muslin and Turkey red, hung the nice
charts and pictures, torn out the old box-
pulpit and set in its place the good Estey
organ sent us by the Little Leaven Band
of Monmouth, Illinois, and had everything
in good order for Sabbath service and for
school on Monday.

On Sabbath morning, long before time,
the people were washed, dressed, waiting for
the bell. We had a full and eager house ;
for on the Friday night before the men had
returned. We saw on every hand the evi-
dences of earnings v/ell spent — new shawls
and prints on wives and children, new cloth
suits on some of the boys and men. Quite
a number of upper-village people had come
down. The "Murderer" was there with a
nicely-fitting suit of black cloth, new hat
and boots, and a faultlessly white shirt-
front, with a standing collar, cravat and
gold buttons. He looked quite a gentle-
man, and I am glad to say is behaving
more like one. He had been bitterly

LIFE IN ALASKA.

;rly

opposed to having a teacher ai th^. upper
village ; he wasn't any afraid <4 thfi sol-
diers getting there to ch(ick Jm ^>urse.
Fie boasted that he was but wMn^ to
get us few whites together t/> k'M us all
at once, and that he would not }i^^#^ h teach-
er at Clok-won. When Louis ao4 'liitlie, the
native teachers, went there, h<i )^4^tr them
much annoyance, and at last t<x>ik ji^<^ hand-
bell from the boy who was ringiia^ iifi nlvrou gh
the village for school, declaring |lHi?tt they
should have no more school. HKyiwe time
after, Louis went to hav(t a x^Ak mtk\ him,
which resulted in the WwrA^M^/^ confes-
sion of wrong and of his evjj iitf))f/:ntions
toward the whites. He retun3<-/J fhe bell,
and turned himself so far as U^i |l>^c/>me a
regular attendant upon both da)'- ?wrvd Sun-
day-schools.

Mr. Willard preached tliat <!W^-' of» the
coming of the Lord, illustrating^ iiit f>y our
own return. How had they V<^\A ikt^: word
we had given them ? How sIm/i^iIVJ the Sa-
viour find them keeping his worKi?

In the afternoon we had l]>«t (fhildren's
meeting. They recited, to tljxi f^tixi de-

296

LIFE IN ALASKA.

light of the old people, their alphabet, texts,
the twenty-third psalm, the t(!n command-
ments, etc., in both languages, and fifty
questions from the Catechism, and sang
many hymns in both English and Kling-g(!t.
Then we gave them the nice papr^rs. 'I'wo
hours had passed for the second time in
service when the benediction was given ;
but they sat dov/n again, and we sang an-
other half hour. Still they said, " We have
had no church for so long that \si\ don't
want you to send us away at all ;" and, in-
deed, we were loth to do so. I'ive or six
little ones have died during our absrmcf; ;
some have gone away ; others have* come
to this village from the oth(*rs ; and (jiiite
a number of dear little babies have been
born. Annie and Tillie, the little sisters
whose mother told me that she would give
them to the white men if I would not take
them, have indeed been taken to Jnn(!au.
Annie was in seclusion before we left, and
I trusted that she still might be.

This ountry is opening up very rapidly.
Aside from the gold-interests, then; are be-
ing built for this season's salmon two can-

n<
o

LIFE IN ALASKA.

297

neries on the Chilcat River — one on the
other side, one on this, just across the trail.
Another party is looking out for a sawmill
site here.

Miss Matthews opened her school prompt-
ly, and is doing thorough work. Although
this is a busy season and the people are on
the move continually, she has had sixty or
seventy different pupils, from the baby of a
month to the old chief, though we didn't
count the babies. The people are much
interested in the new teacher, but it was
hard to make them understand about her.
I'm afraid they thought that my husband
had been following their own provident
plan in getting a second wife, and they
kept asking me over and over where her
minister was. Her sweet voice and ready
accompaniments on the organ charm the
people, and she is fast winning a place
among them.

But, of all the partv, I ^hink our litde
Carrie is the one most loved. From the
first moment of our landing she has been
the object of smiles and pats and loving
admirinfj remarks, and she herself has

298

LIFE IN ALASKA.

scattered love and smiles most prodigally.
It often brings tears to my eyes to watch
her among them. At church, on Sabbath,
it was both amusing and sweet to see her
moving about before service began, patting
one little one on the head, dropping on her
knees beside another, smiling up into its
face. I saw her wipe the nose of one, and,
stooping down in front of another, hold its
hands while it coughed, as she had seen me
do with baby Fred when he had whooping-
cough. Then, taking a little singing-book,
opening it first and feigning to read the
lesson herself, she held it open to one and
another of the old people, reading aloud
and explaining, with many gestures and
many nods of the wise little head, a few
Kling-get words. But she took her seat on
the little platform in time for service, and
remained quiet throughout the whole of it,
except at singing. She always joins in that
with all her heart, knowing every hymn
after hearing it once or twice. She seems
so little for it all ! She loves the big .v^a-
ter, and enjoyed the trip home very much.
The friends at Sitka had teased her about

LIFE IN ALASKA.

299

keeping her baby-brother with them. Of
course, she had protested earnestly, for she
can scarcely bear him out of her sight. Al-
most the first thinor after we went aboard
she looked about for Fred, and, not seeing
him, so wrapped as he was in blankets, she
began to call loudly for him. Then, turn-
ing to me, she asked " Baby ooh, mamma?"
That means, " Is he on the boat ?" for she
names it after the sound of tiie whistle.
" Baby ! Dee, baby !" she called ; and
then, when I had shown her where he lay
asleep, she called each family-name, to
make sure of us all, and, turning to Fritz
again, she said, with her funny little nod
and smile, " Morning ! Dee, baby ! How
dodo?"

Baby too has come into an inheritance
with this people. He is just seven months
old. I would not put short dresses on him
until the Indians had seen him in his sweet
white baby-clothes, so different from any-
thing they ever saw before. Some of the
Chilcat wives are Sitka women, and because
this " beautiful snow-baby " was born in
Sitka they claim him for their own tribe-

300

LIFE IN ALASKA.

brother ; but the Chilcats hold on to him
bravely, saying that he is a good Chilcat
qiia7i ("people"). Others say, "Good-good
baby , half Chilcat, half Sitka Kling-get."

The Indians, little and big, crowd before
every window. This position has one ad-
vantacre over that of comincr into the house ;
for when they come in, they do not always
feel at liberty to follow us about from one
room to another, but outside no such deli-
cacy obtains. They see us leave one room
for another, and, lo ! they are at its win-
dow when we enter. When I place Baby
where they can see him, they are perfect-
ly delighted, and watch him as children at
home would watch some rare, strani^e ani-
mal. Every movement of his chubby hands
seems to surprise them ; and when he coos
and laughs, they fairly scream with joy,
while Kotzie stands at the window ges-
ticuladng and talking Kling-get at a rapid
rate. She never speaks a syllable of Eng-
lish to an Indian.

When we came home, we found an old
witch sheltered by the Dickinsons and
heard her story. A little boy had died ;

I.ll'E IN ALASKA.

301

the medicine-men declared that this old
woman had bewitched him. She confessed
that she had, and that a certain man in the
lower Chilcat villaofe had been her accom-
plice. They were both put to torture.
I)on-a-wok, our good chief, accompanied
by Mr. Dickinson and little Indian Willis,
w ent over to Y'hin-da-stachy and compelled
the release of the man after he had been
starved for some days. But the friends of
the old woman kept the matter of her tor-
ture very secret — so much so that Mrs.
Dickinson did not know of her situation
until the eighth day of her trouble. Some
little girls told her at school thai ,.ie witch
had been tied, in a nude condition, on a
bundle of the "devil's walking-stick" (the
most terrible nettle thorn I ever saw ; the
slitrhtest touch of one of its thorns is like
the sting of a hornet), and that she had
had neither food nor water for eight days.
Mrs. Dickinson then went down to the hut ;
but wdien her approach was noticed, the
witch was freed and the briars covered
over with a sail. She found the old creat-
ure crouching by the fire, almost dead, and

y>2

LIFE /JV Af.ASA'A.

uAi\ them to give the old mother some food;
whereupon they offered her boiled salmon,
l>iit her tongue was so much swollen and her
tSuroat so parched that she could only swal-
\tm a little of the water with which the fish
Iwid been cooked. Afterward Mrs. Dick-
itt!=ion had her come to their house, and
hcixrd her story fully from her own lips.
She is a weird old crone. Had I been
called upon to say which of all the r> pie
might be the witch, I should at once have
|>f>mted her out. When she came to church,
fthe always sat looking half dazed and mum-
Ming to herself. She was the first person,
1 l>elieve, to whom I told the story of Jesus
after we landed that July day two years ago.

" What made you tell that lie and say
iFat you killed that boy?" Mrs. IJickinson
a«>kt;d her.

'* It was no lie," the witch said ; " I did
make him die. And plenty more people I
make die too."

Mrs. Dickinson, not believing that she
meant what she said, questioned her still
ler. and in reply, as nearly as I could

ftirthe

gather, this is what she said

1. 1 IK IN ALASKA.

303

" I am old woman ; I no ^ood any mon*.
I plenty sick, plenty tired. Minister come
here ; I go to church. I no hear his words
in my heart ; just like to me nonsense. I
go outside and sit down in bushes. Spir-
its tell me, ' God no good ; he not strong.
Devil very strong; he make all people do
bad ; he make people die. It better you
work for him.' I think about another world ;
I don't know if it happy or sorry — only just
another world. I want to begin all over
again ; better everybody begin again. It's
better I help the devil and everybody to
new world. Spirits talk hard to me ; I lis-
ten in bushes. Then I say, * Yes, I work
for devil.' I take dirty string off some-
body's neck, and little bit of salmon some-
body spill out of mouth ; take little rag off
little woman's dress ; cut little hair off
somebody's head. All easy, quiet, so no-
body see ; nobody know anything. I hide
it quick. By and by nobody knows. I
steal away to medicine-man's dead-house.
Devil strong then ; he tak . ..le. I put on
just one old ragged skirt, and bit of blan-
ket on shoulders ; tlicn I go inside. I hide

304

LfFR IN A L ASK' A.

all bits of String, tish, rag, hair, in blanket.
Now all these people going to die. Maybe
in one year ; maybe two, maybe five, years.
By and by boy dies ; I know I make him
die. Then my heart looks very wicked.
In the night I pray, ' O God, let nobody
see po much wickedness in my heart.' I
very much 'fraid. Next day everybody see
all my wickedness ; they know all how I
'witched people. Then I know little bit
God strong, 'cause I tell him no let any-
body see my heart ; he show all people.
I say, * Yes, I make him die. You go with
me to dead medicine-man. I take all pieces
out ; I show you.' We all go to dead-house.
I say, ' Devil very strong. I go in ; you no
tie me. You never see me any more. Tie
strong rope round me ; hold fast.' I show
the people all the pieces. Then everybody
'fraid : many people going to die ; and they
tie me strong on thistles. They give me
nothing to eat, nothing to drink. By and
by I 'most die. Just then like little hole for
litrht. First I think God no stroncr; then I
find God very strong, i think better work
for devil, but I sit on devil's walkin<r-stick.

LIFE IN ALASKA.

305

^J Starve. I see just little ; no good to work
for devil. Now I see more ; big light hole.
Just like I old blind woman sit in dark long
time. Now light come ; I want to work it
no more for devil."

The straight road to their spirit-world is
over two hifrh mountains and the interven-
ing valley. When the shore of the great
water is reached, the rocks are seen to be
crowded with spirits waiting to be taken
over to the beautiful island, which, though
so far away, is plainly visible, with its in-
habitants, whose attention these waiting
souls vainly try to gain by shouting. But,
wearied with watching, one no sooner be-
gins to yawn than the faintest sound of it
is heard and heeded in the island, and a
canoe is immediately sent to carry the
sleeping spirit to its final home. It is cir-
culated throughout the country that during
the past winter a man who died in Sitka
came back long enough to tell the people
that they must burn more food and cloth-
ing and turn out more water on the fire
when their friends die, that they may have
more comfort in the other world, and that
20

3o6

LIFE IN ALASKA.

all who adhered to die traditions of their
fathers were the favored one^ in the next
life; they sat close about the warm, bright
fire, while those who follow the new Christ-
religion were their slaves and sat back in
the dark, cold corners.

I must tell you of Rebecca, the mother
of Willis. Her first husband, who died
when Willis was a baby, was a brother
of Don-a-wok. She afterward married
again and bore t^ o daughters and a son,
when their father died. About that time
she was out in the woods where men were
felling trees. She had taken a seat on a
fallen lofj, when the tree on which the men
were at work suddenly crashed upon her,
doubling her under it. They took her out
and carried her home, unable to help her-
self at all ; they thought her back was
broken. For several years she lay a help-
less invalid, but one glad day she heard
the story in her own dark hut of Jesus as
the great Saviour and Healer, of his cur-
ing the sick of old, and she said, " He is
the same, isn't he? He says, too, *Ask
of me, and I will give you.* " She began

LIFE IN ALASKA.

307

at once to pray for her own recovery, and
from that clay she began to gain strength,
until she walked — not only about her
house, but to church here, a distance of
four and a half miles. Last winter a mean,
disgusting, worthless blind man took it into
his head to marry her, and tormented her
for months. At last she spoke to me about
it, asking what she ought to do. She at-
tended school and church, and could not
bear to give them up ; and, besides, she
disliked the man very much. She said
that he was rich, while her father was poor
and had to support her and her children.
That troubled her. And then the fellow
said he would surely kill himself if she re-
fused. I told her what a Christian mar-
riacre was, and charo^ed her to be brave
enough to do right — if she .loved the man,
to go ; if she did not love him, to refuse
him through everything. She wished me
to exact from him the promise, should he
ever come to talk with me about it, that
he would put nothing in the way of her
Cfoinof to church and school if she should
marry him.

308

LIFE IN ALASKA.

Not a great while after this the wretch,
accompanied by a crowd of his relations,
went to her father's house and rehearsed
the whole matter: "She was poor; he
was rich. She was dependent, with her
children, on her poor old father, who would
soon die ; he would make her independ-
ent." She withstood this. Then, " If she
did not marry him, he would go to the
woods and die." Here his mother and
sisters broke into hideous crying, entreat-
ing her to save their dear one ; still she
would not consent. At last they said,
" Well, he will kill himself. We will come
on your old father for his life ; he shall
pay it." In desperation then, she said,
" Go to the minister ; if they tell me to
marry you, I will." Immediately, with one
of his friends, he came to us and said that
Rebecca wished our consent to her marry-
ing him. As she had requested, I asked
him if he would ever object to her going
to school if she should consent. He prom-
ised that h? would not, and went back to
the house with the word, supported by that
of his friend, that we told her to marry him,

LIFE IN ALASKA.

309

and that if she did not ^o witJii \nm at once
he would go out and kill Mxxw^M.. %\c. went,
for her father's sake and tliat </ h/!r word.
He took her away to his r\v^^i^;f^% house,
where she has been a slav<^ it/y fiiJm. He
has never since allowed hf^j %(y <jo to
church or to school. He Jiaj? f>^r?iEten her
repeatedly, and scratched jjxrf nhi\\ her
face is terribly disfigured.

The week after we came hftmt* .<^lie came
up to the house to see us. ^\^, h'M\ been
in but a few moments, wheifj h(^, came to
the door and demanded her r^^ijim. She
went with him most obedientil)^ ;; kit when
they went into her father's JiJ-^W!^, he beat
her most unmercifully. Wij/ejr^ hcjt father
would have interfered, h^ Um\^ an axe
to kill him. At last, Aro\)im% that, he
put a knife to his own \\-\ur4-% when, in
more terror than at all the fi^l,, Rebecca
sprang toward him and caugf,)! \% away.

Mr. Willard went down ^m\ ''juve. him
a thorough talking to. A^wm^^ other
things, he told him that if iliKtrf^ was no
other way of stopping it h^i wmM hand
him over to the man-of-war ((i*|yfarn who

3IO

LIFE IN ALASKA.

blew up Hoochinoo. The fellow replied
that nothing could please him bc^ttcrr than
to have the captain put his head into a
big gun and blow it off; that he would do
it himself if the woman didn't behave her-
self. Then his tribe would kill her and
come on her father for the rest of his
value. Such a thing would please him
very much.

We find the season fully a month in ad-
vance of last year's spring. Though the
mountains are still white, here in the low-
lands flowers are springing on every hand
and the air is soft and full of fragrance.
Birds are busy about us, and we take
their sv/eet songs into our hearts, until,
coming to the tongue, they fmd expres-
sion, and we

" Praise God, from whom all blcssingfi fl'^w."

With much love, I am truly your affec-
tionate friend, Carkik M. Willakd.

Chilcat MissroN,

Haines, Alaska, June 13, 1883.

Dear Friends : The steamer now comes
every month to the salmon-canneries across

LIFE IN ALASKA.

3»i

the peninsula, and leaves the mail there ;
but its stay is too short to give us oppor-
tunity to send repHes to our letters by its
return. When we hear from some Indian
that the steamer is in, Mr. Willard puts up
the mail and rushes over in time to get it
on board the departing vessel. Whatever
of freight there may be (or us is left at the
cannery on our side of the river, and Mr.
Willard has a trip of thirty miles with our
little boat (the Adeline) to get it

We have now at the canneries two towns
in white tents. They employ several hun-
dred white men. Most of our people are
there, although Miss Matthews continues
her school, and on Sabbath the services
are well attended by the people coming
over from the canneries.

We have been obliged to take two other
children, a boy and a girl, into our family.
" Ned," the boy, is thirteen. His mother
died when he was a baby. He is to be
chief of the Ravens, to succeed Cla-not
and Don-a-wok, and is a real rollicking,
mischievous boy. His father, who idolizes
his only child, has begged us, ever since

312

LIFE IN ALASKA.

we first came to Chilcat, to take Ned and
make him a good man. You never saw a
man so delighted when we did take the boy
after our return from Sitka. He says "a
long time his heart was only sick, but now
all time glad because of Ned."

The girl, Ann, is sixteen. Her mother
died when she was a baby, and her father,
old, childish and almost blind, took for his
second wife the daughter by a former hus-
band of his first wife ; so Ann's stepmother
is her half sister. She came to me a year
ago last winter, and with tears asked me to
take her, saying that she wanted so much
to be good, but could not be in the Indian
house ; that when she would try to pray
before going to sleep, her sister-stepmoth-
er would poke her up, saying that she knew
Ann was only asking God to kill her. It
was impossible for us to take her at that
time, and so I counseled her to be patient,
that perhaps God meant her to lead her
people to him, and that after a while he
would open the way to a different life for
her. She was afterward tempted to lead
an evil life, being told, when the miners

LIFE IN ALASKA.

came, that she was a great fool for going
to school and studying, when she might
make money so easily. Her reply was
that she had learned too much of God's
word willingly to do wrong now. This
spring, when the people went to the can-
neries, she did not want to go, but she did
not then ask us to take her. After a few
days she came back, saying that she had
seen so much evil that she was afraid ; she
wanted to be good : wouldn't we let her
stay with us ? Of course we could not re-
fuse her request, knowing how great her
danger would be if left exposed to tempta-
tions, and that we might save her. She and
Fanny have one end of our spare-room. . . .
This seems particularly our work. The
people love and confide in us, and it is a
critical time in their history and that of this
country. The people scarcely know where
they are themselves, but, trusting us, they
come and say, "You are our father and
mother. You must tell us what to do
with the white man. You must lead us
like your little children." ...

Carrie M. Willard.

314

LIFE IN ALASKA.

Chilcat Mission,

Haines, Alaska, June 30, 1883.

Dear Friends : We have been having a
soft rain for two or three days. It falls so
lightly, so gently, and makes all things so
beautiful, that we have listened to its pat-
ter with grateful joy.

Our big, rollicking, handsome Indian boy
Ned took the canoe yesterday and went
out Into the bay for fish, and soon came
in with a great stringful of the delicate
flounder. We ate them for breakfast
this morning, never dreaming of what
they cost.

A little before dinner, as Ned lay on the
floor beside the cradle, which he touched
now and then for baby Fred's comfort, there
was a thumping on the kitchen door, which
we had barred, and. looking up, I saw our
second chief, Qa-not, pounding on it ; and
I told Ned to go and open the door. He
did so, and in another instant I heard a
rush, a scream, a thud, and I was out my-
self in time to see Ned being hurled about.
When he had seen the powerful man's face,
he jumped for the sitting-room door, to get

LIFE IN ALASKA.

3»5

into a place of safety ; but Cla-not was too
swift and too strong for him.

I quickly tried to demand the chiefs at-
tention, but, seeing that he paid no more
heed than to the wind, I laid my strength
to Ned's in trying to drag him away and
make Cla-not wait for a talk with Mr.
Willard. He marched the boy out of the
door, however, threw him down, and I think
would have killed him had not Mr. Willard
at last heard the commotion and come to
us with his calm strength. Walking close
up to the angry man, a word was passed,
and the boy was released ; and he quietly
stole into the house behind Mr. Willard as
he stood talking with Cla-not. It seems
that Cla-not was punishing Ned for bring-
insf on the rain, for he had heard from the
boy who had accompanied Ned yesterday
that the latter had killed a fish which it was
a trouble to keep in the canoe by hitting it
on the head with a stone, and thus gave
cause for the continuance of the rain which
is blessing the earth and bringing the ber-
ries to beautiful maturity.

Cla-not is an exceedingly mischievous

3f6

LIFE IN ALASKA.

man ; I do trust that Ned and Paul, who
arc to succeed him, will have gained by
that time much of the knowledge and love
of Christ.

We have now three children in our lit-
tle Home at our own expense. Many of
the good big boys, who ought to be in
j^hool, and who could help us in return at
garden-work to supply the Home with veg-
etables for winter use, and still be learning
Sf>mething useful, have gone elsewhere —
<^>me to the cannery lately built across
the bay.

July 16. — Our mail did not come on the
j^teamer, though Mr. Willard waited till
eleven o'clock at night for its arrival this
^ide the rivr-r and then had his long tramp
through forest, brush and swamp. As he
came to the brush he heard a great bear
htit a few yards from him. There are
plenty of bears, and they can be seen al-
most any evening on the bare mountain-
.^ide.

Dr. Corlies is at Juneau this summer
and will look after our mail. Dr. Jack-
son's contract takes effect this month. The

LIFE IN ALASA'A.

317

Steamer has the mail-contract to the other
points, and leaves our mail at Juneau. Dr.
Corlies takes it from the office there and
sends it by Indian canoe within a given
time after the steamers departure.

Those of our people who have not already
left Haines for the canneries, with but few
exceptions, are to leave this week for a
wholesale trading-raid on the Gun-un-uh,
or interior, Indians, to be gone some three
weeks. I think they must be realizing that
their time with them is short, for they are
fitting out with trading-packs the little chil-
dren of ten and eleven years, while all the
women have packs besides their babies.
This being the case, we expect as soon as
possible to set off for Clok-won, the upper
village, where Louis Paul and Tillie were.
We have been very anxious for their suc-
cess and welfare ever since they came to
this country. We gave them what slates
we had, thinking that, as they were only
beginning, they could use them to even
better advantage than books, though we
divided with them the books sent us. We
also divided the Sunday-school papers and

318

IJFR IN ALASKA.

provided them with blackboard, chalk and
the hand-bell that E^va sent. We have
shared our own clothes with them, and
given everything for their house we could
think of. They have gone back to Wran-
gell by steamer. The experiment has been
well tried ; good has been done. The peo-
ple have learned to want education, and
now will be more ready to receive it. The
house put up for Louis is an excellent log
house, and by taking down the partition
we can make a very good meeting-house,
with a lodging-room above, which we can
use when "«"e go to hold meetings and
school.

Auoust 7. — We were aroused from sleep
this morning by the only Indian woman in
the village tapping on the window and call-
ing Ned. She had been sent by a party of
three miners who were so nearly in a nude
condition that they wished Mr. Willard to
come down to them on the beach, and if
possible to give them some covering and
some food. They had not had a mouthful
of anything since yesterday morning, and
for four days have lived on only such poor

LIFE IN ALASKA.

319

little berries as they could get, and the
small black mussels which, at this season
of the year, the Indians regard as poison-
ous. They were soon covered and brought
into the house — "home," as one of them
said, where they were experiencing some-
thing of the delights which the poor fam-
ished soldiers found when they came home
from the war.

** Oh," said one poor mother s boy as he
grasped my hand at the door, " I never was
so glad to see white people in my life be-
fore. When we turned the point and saw
the house, I told the boys it was just like
getting home."

They had stopped here for over a week
as they went to the interior, some time in
May,

When *;hey were telling us of the terrible
hardships they had undergone, I said,

" What men will go through for money !
Some of our friends felt that it was a good
deal for us to come for the Indians, but see
how much more you endure for gold."

They had left behind four of their num-
ber, who were unable to get farther than

320

LIFE IN ALASKA.

the headwaters .of the l)y-ya Inlet — one
an old man of sixty or seventy years — and
Mr. Willard is busy getting Indians off to
bring them down. The men "ihat returned
are young and vigorous, and still hc/J hard
work to reach here. They a .vadcd
streams where the curre:it took them off
their feet and swept them far down the
rapids. At last they found a little canoe,
which had been hidden by other miners
when they went in last spring, and pad-
dled against heavy head-winds till one
o'clock that night, when, exhausted and
famishing, they made the shore, drew their
canoe above what they thought high-wp «.i
mark, lay down on the sands and we^ i o
sleep. When they awole, it was to fmu
that they had been visited by so high a
tide that their boat was gone, and, from
the strong wind, there was no doubt that
it had been blown back to ' he head of the
inlet. It was impossible to reach ■ by
foot, so they were obliged to retrace r ■^'ir
weary steps. They then found the truant
boat back at their startij\»-plac(;, and now,
after four days' weary pul '."g, wading and

LIFE IN ALASKA.

321

swimming, they are safely here with friends.
The channel is very quiet this morning, and
Mr. Willard hopes to get the other starv-
ing men down before long. They had
found gold paying from fifteen to twenty
dollars a day, but it cost them twenty dol-
lars a day to live.

A month ago the party divided, these
seven men coming back, the other four
going on with the boat to examine a
quartz-ledge on Pelly River. l^hcy will
probably make their way to Fort YuKon,
and from there proceed by steamer to San
iM-ancisco. These men say that should
they attempt to return this way they will
be overtaken by the snows, will have no
food, and there will be no chance of their
reachinor us alive.

Mr. Willard sent Ned flying to the Kin-
ney cannery with a note to the foreman
for men to go up the inlet ; he has just
received reply that the people are on a
strike and he can get no one, but will scmkI
to the other side, where they can probably
be had.

The people are almost crazy to make
21

322

LIFE IN ALASKA.

money. Both canneries have stores, aii<|l
prices have been brought down to fairn^s^..
At the same time, the prices of fish hay(<?
run up till the Indians can make hftt^eifji
dollars a day fishing-. What di(,'y ar*^
striking- for now I do not know.

We were much surprised, a week ag'<>>
last Sabbath, to fmd, when the steam^jf
had arrived at the canneries, that INliss
Rankin, assistant matron at Fort Wrang-tilll,,
was aboard, come to make us a visit. ':^\^.
will be here until next steamer, which niav
arrive by another Sabbath. She and Mis:>
Gould, of Hydah, came out last Septeiiiiv
ber with Miss Matthews and Dr. Jacks<;ifi)..
Their visit is very refreshing. . . .

A'dgtist 8. — Not being able to get the \u--
dians yesterday, Mr. Willard took the Ad-
eline, with the three tired and sore mio'eir^^^
up the Dy-ya for the others. Just befc;)ir<^
they started, two Indians made their ai|>t-
pearance and consented to go with tJn^iii))..
As they were strong and understoo ' j>ull|l-
ing an oar, I felt much easier. They ma^-
not be back for ten days, in case of he;fK}l
winds ; but if all is fair, they may get \yM^

IJFR IN A/.Af>/^4.-

323

two days hence. Mr. WiijllWrcf took pro-
visions with him.

I am alone this morniji^^ mih t\\(i babies.
Miss Matthews and Miss i<;iiii)fci)|fv are spend-
ing a day in the grand old \jm'-^ ^cxods. The
boys are ac. "<s the bay g<;iiti'ft'g logs for
steps down to the beach aixj^iliii^i^: log boat-
house, and the girls 1 s<:jjl ^m an errand
around the beach. They a^m '^\\ learning
well. The girls especially m^*. l>ecoming
very helpful in the house. Wi*- have them
take week about at swee];iij^^ ^^md chamber-
work, with cooking and ^m care of the
kitchen. They do thes<i i^iiw^.-^ well for
such young girls.

Augtist 10. — Mr. \\'illar<I ^cyt Kack with
his crew in the night. 'W^ fc>und the
men living and in pretty g/)XP(<J <^j>irits, con-
siderincr the fact that th<'v toJ nothing to
eat for a week save a half t^llworv that they
found that had been thrown ;^oo?ty by some
Indians, and was half dri<xll^ kilr decayed
and made them very sick, ',m(\ two fish
which afterward they sh<>l '^m(\ managed
in some way to get out ol ijii^ w^ltr. They
did not dare to eat mon- x\un krlf a fish ^t

324

LIFE IN ALASKA.

a time, lest they could j^ot no more. They
seemed very grateful for the helji Mr. Wil-
lard brought them. They told how, when
so weary, they encouraged one another
with " Never mind, boys ; if we can hold
out till we get to the missionary's, we'll
be all right. It's just like home there."
And they did hold out till the next day
without a morsel to eat.

August 27. — I must give you a little idea
of how we live. One week Ann takes the
kitchen, cooking, washing dishr;s, baking,
etc. ; Fanny, the sweejjing, chamber-work,
etc. At the end of the week they change.
In the morning — say Monday, for instance
— while Fanny makes herself neat for the
getting of breakfast, Ann, under my direc-
tion, gives the living-rooms a thorough
cleaning and brightening up. Miss Mat-
thews has joined Fanny in th<! kitchen, and
together they have breakfast on the table in
the bright little dining-room. I5y th(! time
I have washed and dresse*d the babies
the Indian children's plain, substantial
breakfast is set in the kitchc;n, and they
eat at the same time we do, always giving

(■

LIFE IN ALASKA.

325

•'11

thanks and asking the blessing with bowed
heads. After the meal Ann takes up the
crumbs and goes to her chamber-work,
while F'anny washes the dishes and tidies
the kitchen and Ned saws wood. All be-
ing through their tasks together, they have
their study-hours, and after recitations with
Miss Matthews in reading, writing, spelling
and arithmetic, with Bible lesson, singing
and prayer, I get dinner with Fanny. She
and Ann together do up the dishes, then
proceed to wash the soiled clothing of the
week. Then I get su[>per for all by the
time they have the clothes in the last rinse-
water. After supper the girls scour table
and floor, making the kitchen shine. Then
we have family prayers and go to bed. The
routine is varied as circumstances indicate.
On another day comes the ironing, which
the girls do together. I have Ned and
Ann's little brother, Adam, who is with us
a cfood deal, wear starched white and calico
shirts on purpose to teach the girls laun-
drylng ; they have learned to do them up
nicely. Another day they have baking,
and they can bake excellent bread. Then

326

LIFE IN ALASKA.

they have sevvintr. I teach them to cut and
fit their own clothing, and they have learned
to sew on the machine better than most
girls of their ages at home. Last week I
had them learning pants-making — " real
American pants " — and knitting. They
each have knit them good woolen stock-
ings. They go berrying and fishing and
make a happy crew. There are many
items of interest in connection with them
that I wish I could give you. I have rushed
along into this subject because I was so
troubled at your distress for us that I
wished to set your minds at rest. We
are doing, and will do, just what the Father
puts in our hands, and try to trust results
of what we do, with all that we cannot do,
to Him who has said, " Neither is he that
planteth anything, neither he that water-
eth ; but God who giveth the increase ;"
and we believe that even now we are see-
ing evidences of this blessing of his Holy
Spirit with our children here and with some
of our people.

We have been trying to beautify our
glacier mission home this summer. After

LIFE IN ALASKA.

327

maklnof Miss Matthews' room the best one
in the house, Mr. Willard and I went next to
the study. We had concluded that our bed-
room down stairs was not a healthful place,
especially for the Htde ones, and it would
also make a much more convenient study
and office for Mr. Willard than the room
he has had up stairs ; so we made the
change. Fanny sewed up the house-lin-
ing (for it is not plastered), of unbleached
cheese-cloth, as Ann had done for Miss
Matthews' room, and we put it on the
walls, with a narrow strip of Turkey red
for a border; you wouldn't believe what
a pretty effect it made. All the carpet I
could put together was not enough, but in
Miss Matthews' Christmas box from home
was a piece of red-and-black linsey-wool-
sey, which she gave me as a border. I had
also some thin red flannel, which I cut into
two straight curtains and hung on a carved
Indian totem-stick for the window toward the
bay. Then we have a long shelf with red
lambrequin for bric-^-brac, and underneath
a long bright-cushioned ^ox for settee and to
hold bedclothing. The study is more unique.

328

LIFE IN ALASKA.

The floor is covered with fur robes ; chair,
ditto ; rough board walls, in part ditto ; with
a cross-legged table covered with green oil-
cloth, of Mr. Willard's manufacture, as are
also the chairs, bookcase and medicine-
case. One end of the room is taken up
with book- and medicine-cases ; the latter
is a cracker- box set upright on legs, stained
a dark brown, with the lock and hinges of
bright brass, and on its long door I painted
a little scene of water tumblino- down over
gray stones among flowers, ferns and moss.
Across the corner stands my easel. On
the wall hangs an ornamented squirrel-
robe ; crossed above it are two great Indi-
an bows, and from them, hanging over the
robe, a quiver of arrows. Then there is a
camp-chair, and a little black bearskin, lined
with old red flannel, on the floor. In front of
the table lies a large marmot robe, on which
stands the study-chair (home-made), cov-
ered with another squirrel-robe. At one
side of the window next the bay is the
gunshop. A box holding the ammunition
is covered with a skin, and on its top is a
huge stone washbowl, given us by Shat-e-

LIFE IN ALASKA.

329

ritch as a valuable relic. In it, on a little
minkskin, stand the oruns — rifle and shot-Pfun
— leaning, at the top, into the arms of polished
deer-horns that Mr. Willard mounted on
yellow cedar. From branches of the horns
hang the Colt's revolver and its Apache
belt given him by a miner, and Mr. Wil-
lard's own little revolver, brought from
home. Scattered about on the walls are
sketches of Alaska scenery in oil, and the
painting of " The Virgin of Light " with
the plaster foot.* A very good bust of
Shakespeare, given us by a friend, looks
down from among the books.

For out-of-door exercise, I have taken
Kotzie and the Indian children and worked
on both the Home lots and our own. We
have made a nice wide grav^v-.valk from
the porch down to the beach, with two
flights of terrace-steps. It remains to be
finished to the schoolhouse. We have
beautiful house-plants — calla-lily, roses, ge-
raniums, heliotrope, fuchsias, etc. — which
have bloomed profusely.

* A freehand crayon sketch which gained Mrs. Willard's
admission as a pupil in the Academy of Design in New York.

330

LIFE IN ALASKA.

We have eaten of the Indian apples this
summer — the queerest Httle things, about
the size of red haws and. looking like them ;
but the seed is more like the quince, and
they taste very much like tiny green apples.
1 do think that grafts would gro\v and bud
on them.

September 3. — Among the sup 'itions
innumerable of the Kling-get peopiv. is that
regarding the owl. In a conversation with
some of the children and young people one
day, I said,

" But then you know that owls cannot
talk."

" Oh," was the ready reply, " they can't
talk 'Merican ; that's why the snow-people
think they say nothing. Just Kling-get
they speak, and all the Kling-gets know
what they say. Alle same in snow-peo-
ple's country no witches ; snow-people say
no witches in Chilcat, but Chilcat Klinof-eet
see plenty witches."

" Then what is an owl ?" I inquired.

" Bad spirit; alle same witches."

"What do they do?"

" Oh, plenty bad ; no good 'tall. All In-

LIJ'E IN ALASKA.

331

juns much 'fraicl owl. Everybody — every-
body lie talk bad to ; no ^ood words in
him. He big thief, too. Alle same he put
this book under his blanket and shut his
eyes. Some nights plenty big Injun in
house. Old owl come close by in dark
pine tree; he talk 'ad. All Injims run
out house to drive him away, 'cause he tell
somebody goin* dead. Owl knows every-
thing, but he big coward. He plenty 'fraid
big Injun. Just little young ones he strong
take. Little woman, litde boy, go out by's
self; big owl turn him's heart up side
down."

Two Sabbaths ago we had a sermon on
witchcraft. After service many of the
younger people were gathered in the
kitchen watching my preparations for din-
ner. On Saturday, Ned had neglected to
split and house his wood until it had got-
ten quite damp in the rain ; so that I had
quite a tedious time getting the pot to boil,
and I had occasion to look into it aeain and

agam.

"What is the matter with it?" I said ; and
as I raised the lid again, all looking at me

33:

LIFE IN ALASKA.

as I did so, I assumed an expression first
of surprise, then, as I peered into the
depths of the unmanageable fluid, my eyes
became fixed and staring, opening w'der and
wider. With mouth also agape, I uttered
the one starding word "Witches!" The
Indians were watchin<i- with terrified inte-
rest; and as their bodies, almost uncon-
sciously, arose and followed their gaze, they
looked with me into the pot diat would not
boil. Then, relaxing, I dropped the lid and
told them that the witch 1 had seen was
Ned's neglect to get the wood in dry. He
had left it in the rain until it was wet ; that
made the wood so that I could not ijet a
good fire. It was smoke, smoke ; no blaze
in the fire ; no boil in the pot. Then I told
them that time had been when the white
people knew so little that they — my own
forefathers — believed that witches kept
the pot from boiling. When they had
learned better to understand God's word,
when they had studied into God's ways —
into the whys of things — they knew that
witchcraft was nothing but foolishness.
They had been a great many years in find-

LIFE IN ALASKA.

333

ine out the reasons for thing^s that showed
them the fooHshness of witches, and the
truth and goodness of God in everything.
The good people did not wish the Indians
to walk in darkness so long ; that was the
reason of our coming to teach them what we
had had to find out. They might learn fast
if they would but believe the good words.

Philip, the young silversmith, has long
been a source of wonder and joy to us.
Such earnest attention he has seemed to
pay to every effort of ours to instruct him !
He has a sad history, and once, on a trip
from the interior, almost lost his life. His
intelligence and indomitable pluck barely
saved him alive, with God's blessing, but
he lost all his toes and all the flesh from his
hands ; they are but bits of drawn-up bones.
Yet he does br.iutiful work in silver, and
not only that, but works at anything he can
get when he does not have orders for carv-
ing. We have had him employed a good
part of the summer in putting up the boat-
house and in making shakes for a wood-
and-vegetable house. He said that he
would rath(T work for the minister than

334

LIFE IN ALASKA.

make more money at the canneries, be-
cause the white men there seemed to care
only about making money ; he wanted to
make money, but he wanted to take care
of his soul too, and he knew that the min-
ister cared for it. It was he who surprised
me one eveninof durino- our first winter here
by remarking to me that I was not lone-
some because my books miked to me like
friends. We have felt that he was very
near the kingdom of God — that he was
followincT the truth so far as he knew it.
Imagine, then, our distress, our grief and
surprise, when, a week or two ago, we
heard he had taken another wife. We
heard that at almost the same time that
there came to us the news of his great
rejoicing over the birth of his first baby-
girl. He came himself to tell us how glad
he was when the little daughter was born.
He wanted it to be **all 'Merican baby," he
said, and not even to have an Indian name.
He wanted us to have it and to teach it
everything good. He wished me to give
it an American name, and he wanted baby
Fred's nursing- botde for it.

LIFE IN ALASKA.

335

But through all Philip's expressions of
happiness my heart was aching with keen-
ness of sorrow for his wrong-doing ; and
so, after we had all sympathized with him
and his heart was largely unburdened, I
drew him away to the sitting-room, where,
seating myself near him, I said,

" Philip, my heart is very, very sick."

He looked into my face with such clear
and questioning eyes so full of pained won-
der that I almost hoped to find the report
of his offence a^^ a mistake ; but I went on :

"You know iu)vv, a lon^;, long time ago,
you told us the story n' your life: ol your
long, hard journey to the; north country;
of your struggles with terrible storms, in
going down the awful snow-slides; of the
big waves that dashed your canoe to splin-
ters and hurled you against the gr<at walls
of rock; then of how you seem to die in
the blackness of the waters, and at last how,
God having brought you back to life, you
found yourself in the world again, though
the body was partly dead ; then how you
came slowly and painfully back to the vil-
lage where you had left the wife and baby

336

LIFR IN ALASKA.

for whose sakes you had risked and mi'
fered so much. You expected kind '^xx^^:^
tion, but when you stagg-ered to the ]ww^
you found that another had taken y>'W
place. I remember, too, how you V)X\<^<irA
to die — how you wished that you had <iif^^
in that fearful mountain-gulch, and how ^^,
months dragged on till, the unfaithful Wii^^,
with her child, having gone to lead a wJM,vji^
bad life in Sitka, the world rose up new i^^
you again, and you took the good, faiil^iiijl
and loving Leah for your wife. Do )^m
remember how good and pure and ttTiW/*?
you said she was, and how you loved li.^?
It made us so glad to know that, old thifii]^'^
having passed away, you two were tru^;; ^^
each other and trying together to serve ^^^
good God who had so strangely spared ym
to hear his word. Our hearts were alw^^^
glad in thinking of you, because we thou<^
you were trying to walk in the right w^;,
and now we have heard that you have tiik<«^
another wife — that you have Leah and h^
sister too. Is it true?"

He had not lifted his eyes from my ^^a<w
while I was speaking; their expression »'^i»!$

LfFR IN At,4f:>ff4.-

337

pathetic as he followed iw\^ ?«nd the tears
many times had staritx-/|l \t\i(^ my own.
When I asked the qu<^i>fi^yft, his counte-
nance did not change; m^^ a litde fresh
wonder came into it, iiu.4 \-m said,

"Why, have you only \n^% heard of it?
I took Mollie a moon '4m\ 't% half ago."

I could only say,

" Oh, Philip, how coui4 <^(yi\, when you
knew that God forbids 'mt^h thinofs?"

With new surprise o^km^^-^xwy his sen-
sitive face, he asked,

"What is that, Nauk-y-<s>iiifiir

" Don't you know tliat <>)>c|i's word says
only one wife for one jjwih) ?nf>d one hus-
band for one woman ?"

There was eagc^r pain m i^f*. wonder now
as he glanced across to tJiw^ %\hi which lay
on the litde table, ViAVmmyi the suofores-
tion, I brought and o]>ejie^jl h, and read to
him the holy law of marria^g^, J^;aning for-
ward in his eagerness, it ii^K^-mfxl as though
he must almost bring tJv<t myf(h from the
book before I could uttx^r ih^,fn.

When I had finished, vr^vcrral moments
passed before a syllable ^'^ii.:^ !*|>oken ; but

338

LIFE IN ALASKA.

I could see that his ht^art was beating fast
and his eyes were dim as they bent on
the book. At length, raising his head
and looking at me earnestly, he cleared
his throat and said,

" Oh, mother, why did I never hear God's
words before ? Now, for the first time, I
hear his law. If I know his way before, I
never have any wife but Leah ; my heart
is too sick. Wait ; I can't see which way
my face is turned ;" and he hurriedly left
the room.

When he re-entered it, perhaps half an
hour later, my husband had joined me ; I
had told him how matters stood, and we
were still talking it over sedated side by
side. Philip walked in, his face showing
the manly determination which could hard-
ly find expression in his rather limping gait,
and took his stand opposite us. After wip-
ing the damp from his foreh(;ad he said, in
a studied but earnest way,

" Mr. Willard and Nauk-y-stih, you are
my father and mother ; you always do me
good. Now I do very wrong ; I take two
wives. I never hear Citxl's word about it

LIFE IN ALASKA.

339

before. I thank you, my mother, for read-
ing it to me and showing me light to-day.
My heart is very sick. I want always to
take God's way. I love no woman besides
Leah ; if I know God's word before, I shut
my arms tight around her and let no one
else come in. But I tell you how it was.
I want to take no more wife, but Leah's
sister was ready to be married. The boy
who was to take her wouldn't do it. He
would say to her friends, * Wait, wait !
Wait till after Sunday. Wait till another
moon ;* and they knew that he didn't mean
to take her at all. Many Indians have two
wives to help them make money ; so the
friends all say to me, * You take her ; you
take her ;' and by nnd by I do take her. I
have her now one moon and a half, and
don't know it's bad. Now I know the good
way, I must do it. I take only Leah for my
wife, but I must not take this poor girl by
the shoulder and say, * Get you gone !
Quick !' I brought her in ; I must not give
her shame. I will tell her, ' Sit down a while
in my house — easy. By and by go out with-
out much tongues and shame.' "

340

LIFE IN ALASKA.

We could not but commend his compas-
sion and bid him carry out his plan, with
earnest prayer to God for them all ; it was
supplication with thanksgiving that one was
so quick to follow the truth.

But why had he never heard the truth
before ? Over and over again it has been
preached on Sunday in church. That is the
only time that we use an interpreter. The
second chief here has three wives, and not
only has it been boldly preached to him,
and those like him, from the pulpit, but we
have talked repeatedly to them ourselves
in the house. I suppose, not considering
Philip in particular need of such lessons, we
had never spoken personally to him about
polygamy.

The raven is the heathen Chilcat's su-
preme being. He is the creator and pre-
server of all things, for not only did he
make the world, but upon his wings it is
borne. The end of the world will come
when he flies from under it. And not only
is this black bird the power almighty, but
he is the power almighty for evil. What
other fact can so emphatically reveal a peo-

th(

LIFE IN ALASKA.

341

pie's decrradation as does this — that their
highest ideal, their god, is an evil spirit
whom they must needs appease, and whose
sufferance of them they must propitiate by
all the sacrifices that witches and medicine-
men can invent for them ?

A conversation between our Indian girl
Bessie Ann Fraze (who must have been
about fourteen years old when it took place)
and an older Indian was reported to me the
other day by a third person, who had been
much interested in their discussion in re-
gard to the claims of the new religion.
John had asserted his full belief in the doc-
trines of his fathers, when Ann silenced him
by saying,

" I used to believe that the raven made
the world and everything ; but when the
minister came and told us about the good
God and showed us his true book, and I
learned to read his words my ownself, I
no more believe in the raven. I believe in
God, because he tells us about it. Now, if
you want me to believe in the raven, show
me the raven's book. How did he make
the world, and what did he make it for?"

342

LIFE IN ALASKA.

September 10. — While we were at break-
fast a native came and asked me if he mij^ht
bake some bread in our stove. I told him
yes, if he would bring it right away, before
my fire went down. (He would not be will-
ing to furnish wood, nor even cut it.) He
returned to the village, and directly anoth-
er man came carrying a sack of flour, his
young wife bearing the big washbowl in
which to mix the bread, and a package of
sugar. They were going to have a feast,
the people of the three lower villages be-
ing invited, and they wanted to bake up
this sack of flour into flat sugar-cakes.

The man did the mixing, his wife look-
ing on. He took out a bowl of flour, put
just as little water in it as would make
dough so stiff that he pounded and ham-
mered it with his double fist in very pugi-
listic fashion. Sprinkling a little sugar on
the lump occasionally, with a spoonful of
water, the pounding would be resumed,
until at last we were obliged to insist on
its being put into the oven. Very reluc-
tant he seemed to flatten it out, but at last
the cakes were panned, put in to bake and

LI IE IN ALASKA.

343

the man's wife sent home with the flour.
He stayed to mind the baking, which took
about one hour with fire in the stove and
another hour without any.

The next arrival was a man who wanted
to buy a sack of beans and one of rice for
the same feast ; three friends were giving
it jointly. We had none to sell him ; so
he was obliged to go to the canneries.

Then came a woman to borrow a wash-
tub to hold the beans and rice when they
were cooked, for this was the day of prep-
aration for the feast. The cooking-uten-
sils were small — except, indeed, the great
baskets in which they cook, by means of
redhot stones dropped into the mess they
wish to boil, and in this case a large quan-
tity was to be cooked in small portions.
Then the tub was wanted for the great cen-
tral dish, from which the totem-dishes of the
guests could be filled ; for they often carry
their own dish and spoon, each carved elabo-
rately with their family totem, or coat-of-
arms. For instance, suppose a man is of
the Owl family, of the •' Cog-won-tons "
tribe ; he will probably have a dish orna-

344

LIFE IN ALASKA.

merited with owl-carvin<rs''' and a horn spoon
whose handle represents the cinnamon
bear, or a commingling of the two in one,
or both articles, perhaps, the first order re-
versed. They have many styles of dishes
in wood, horn and stone, and the conceits
in carving, the arrangement of the ever-
varying and ever-recurring totem, are cu-
rious and grotesque, though often rt hHv
graceful in design. At their feasts these
great dishes and spoons, often valuable
and handed down through generations, as
our great-grandmother's china at home, are
gathered about by a group of the same
family and filled by the master of the feast
from the central dish — something similar to
the custom among more civilized people
when refreshments are served to groups
of guests at small tables from the main
dining-table, only the Chilcats are much
more social, as each partakes from this
common totem-dish with his own spoon.
These spoons, however, are large enough
to answer for individual-dishes. They usu-
ally hold from half a pint to a pint. Some

*See illustrations, pages 256, 37 and 45.

LI IF. IN ALASKA.

345

will hold as much as a quart, and look a
litde like the old gourd-ladl(ts.

Finally, one of the hosts came to buy cal-
ico to tear up and give away at the •' Co-
ek-y," or the great gift-giving prelude to
the feast, which would take place that night;
for it is a feast for the dead. Of course we
would not give him calico for such a pur-
pose, as these feasts are the ruin of die
people. For several weeks they have
done nothing but move from one feast
to another, and probably have spent in
this way all the money they have earned
through the summer.

September 10. — We had some thirty-five
or forty at church yesterday. The people
left the canneries and still are feasting.
Next month the medicine-man Kaht-lutl
is to give a great feast on the completion
of a house he has for three years been
building in memory of his dead in Y'hin-
da-stachy.

Canoes are coming daily from below
Juneau, Sitka, Hoonyah and Fort Wrangell
to get salmon at the upper village. These
people say they have been standing all

346

LIFE IN ALASKA.

summer waiting for the fish to come, but
in all they had gotten but forty dried.
Winter is coming on, and they have made
no provision for it ; usually they have by
this season orreat store-houses full of dried
salmon and salmon-oii — not only enough
for themselves, but for trade with the lower
tribes — and they will, I fear, have nothing
left of their summer earnings v/ith which to
buy flour or any other food. I fear there
will be trouble ; and if it were not for the
dear babies, whose frequent illnesses re-
quire every care and comfort that we can
(^ive them here, I would be anxious to o;o
to the upper village for the winter, and, in-
deed, may find it necessary to go.

I heard yesterday the story of the owl's
origin as believed by all the Kling-get
tribes. It was at Sitka an old blind wo-
man lived with her son and his wife. It
was a time of great scarcity of food. The
son went every day to hunt and fish, but
could get nothing; he and the old mother
barely kept soul and body together with
the few roots and berries that could be
found. But the young wife thrived well —

LIFE IN ALASKA.

347

Upon what, no one knew. In the night,
when the old woman would wake up from
sleep, she would say to her daughter-in-
law,

" What have you got there to eat ?"

•* Nothing."

"Oh yes! I smell fish, and I hear the
oil dropping on the fire."

'* No, you don't ; there's nothing to eat."

Again the hungry old woman would say,

" What are you eating ? You have fish ;
1 hear you eating it."

" No," came the answer ; •' I'm just chew-

mg gum.

The truth was — the story says — that,
having the power of a witch, the young
woman went every midnight to the rocks
overhanging the sea, and there, with tree-
branches, which she swayed back and forth,
crossing and recrossinir them before her,
she charmed the young herring from their
haunts. They fiung themselves from the
waves to the rocks at her feet. Gathering
them into her basket, she would take thv^m
home, string them (as is their custom still)
on a stick, which was then fastened into the

348

LIFE IN ALASKA.

earth upon which the house-fire was built,
at an inchning angle over the fire ; and
after roastinir them, she would have a
good meal and sleep again.

Matters went on in this way, until one
night the old mother's questioning angered
her daughter-in-law so much that, snatching
a fish from the stick, she tore out the burn-
ing entrails, and, crying out, *' Hold out
your hand, then ; you shall have some,"
forcibly closed the old fingers upon the
hot mass until the palm was deeply burned.

When the husband came home in the
morniner, he asked what made his mother
sit crying so. His wife said she didn't
know. Determined to hear from his moth-
er herself, he said to his wife,

"I am going hunting again. Go you to
the woods and get me bark-lining for my
arrow" (to tie the heads to it).

And while she was gone the old woman
told him all her troubles, and he at once
decided what to do. When his wife re-
turned with the bark strin<rs, he took his
bow and put off in his canoe, as though he
were going a distance ; but as soon as he

LIFE IN A I ASK A.

349

had turned the point of land which hid him
from the view of the villap-e he drew the
boat ashore, where he hid it in the bushes
and secreted himself until after nightfall.
When the moon began to rise, he stole
toward the village, and, taking a station
which would command a view of the beach,
there awaited developments.

At midnight he saw in the now brilliant
moonlight the figure of his wife approach-
ing the scene of her nightly incantation.
He watched her closely through it all, and
followed softly to the house, where he saw
her cook and eat the fish and deny his
mother's cry for food, then returned to his
canoe. On the next day he caught a hair
seal, and, taking it home, made his wife eat
so much of its fat that she fell into a deep
sleep — so deep, indeed, that the midnight
hour had passed when she was aroused by
her husband's command to c^o down to the
canoe and carry up the fish he had just
brought home. He, having stolen her art,
had himself used it and filled his canoe
with herring while she slept. She went
to the canoe and sat down on the beach ;

350

LIFE IN ALASKA.

her voice came very feebly as she c<iillWJ
to her husband to send her the basij^/^^,.
He would not send them, and she w ou':! mni
go for them ; so she sat on the sand all 4^^..
As the moon arose she started toward itlliv^
mountain, intending to follow a gulch W jiji*^
top ; but when she came to the great st<>>itiM!:;
(called by the white citizens of Sitka itfti^
" Blarney-stone ") which stands in the x<y4A--
way just opposite the gate of the ^jilivdl-
don Jackson Institute, she sat down <mi ii(t^,
and immediately turned into an owl. \% '^
for this reason, then, that the owl w<^<^
in the night and talks in the moon]ig;}|i(t

But the British-Columbia Indians h^-Xw^'f^-
that the owl is the transformed body ^ '^
man who lost his head from his shoul<J(t^nr^5>
in a war among the tribes long ago.

September 27,— Mr. Willard and Mii^
Matthews, with Mrs. Dickinson, ar4:: ;^
the upper villages this week, the girls ff!>-
maining at home with me and the babi<!^^

This has been a specimen day, aii<ll,, ;¥^
the little ones are all asleep, I will run m^
its events. There has not been an ^\^^
side Indian near the house, owing to ^^

LIFE IN 4M<if^A.

351

great annual feast iut VWrt-da-stachy, but
we are always busy, W*^ arose at seven
o'clock this mornifag, ^(^yl breakfast over,
the little ones ready, ikt', Saturday clean-
ing and preparatioi) ^\fm('.\ then, putting
Fred in a comfort, \ "i^ him in his cart,
gave Kotzie \u. littk <i>lWyvel, and led the
girls with two larger i>3>)Ky^/rk and the wheel-
barrow to digging <:W<^ and banking up
the house for wintf^r. Wc can get neither
man nor boy to work; (^en Ned has run
off to the feast.

The girls went at k m^ a will, and to-
gether we got it '6\n¥^^ ^lone ; but while
we were working in ^w.. Ifront of the house
one of the girls screjjUiJiU''4mjt that the boat's
ways were iloati ng m^ and there, sure
enough, going rapi<illy tmi with the tide,
was the log roa-dw^ji^- i^hich had been
worked on for s<> fmm<^ weary days. I
feared it might get ^mt mto the channel
current and be €arrii/<^4 utterly away. I
knew that it would |!>*r ftx^xt to impossible
to replace it by a \u^ fmc this year, and
the Adeline was at muh^yf in the bay, but
must be housed for jlii<<? w'mter. How could

352

LIFE IN ALASKA.

it be done without these ways and pulleys?
So, laying baby Fred on his l>ack in the com-
fort, I pulled on my rubljer boots, snatched
up the keys and, callin;;^ to the ^irls to fol-
low me, ran to the boat-house, j^ot out ropes
and paddles, while the girls ran the little
canoe down the beach. Springing into
the shell, we were off on the big water.
Fanny sat high and dry in the prow, Ann
in the stern, both working hard, while I
with my ropes sat amidships. We reached
the logs, roped them in and tugged them
back to the Adeline. Hoarding the white
beauty, I tied the rop<ts securely to her
prow, and we were soon ashore again.

Poor little ones left behind ! Kotzie had
followed to the water's <tdge, while Fred
had cried himself to sleep. We got dinner
over, and after our evening singing, Bible
lesson and prayer I took the little ones up
to bed. When they were snugly tucked in,
I heard noises on the beach like; the landinor
of a boat. Looking out, I could just distin-
guish a large canoe being hauled up and a
figure coming up the path toward the house;
but I heard the voices of white men.

LIFE m ALASKA.

353

As the solitary figure was about to pass
to the back of the house I called out from
the window :

" Who is there ? White men ?"

** Yes ; a party from the interior. We
heard that you were here, and have tried
hard to get here to-night."

I told him then that Mr. Willard was not
at home, but that I would be down in a
minute and would most gladly give them
anything they needed.

They were not in the pitiable state of the
former party, but they were tired and hun-
gry. They are now comfortably housed in
the schoolhouse, with fire and provision,
and the day has almost passed for me.

I have been taking the girls this week
through the history of our dear Saviour's
sufferings, death and resurrection with
much profit to us all. They are intense-
ly interested in the reading and during
prayer.

October 9. — Our itinerant*^ have safely
returned, holding service two weeks ago
at Clok-won, last Sabbath at Y'hin-da-
stachy. I had a congregation here also

354

LIFK IN ALASKA.

of about twenty persons. The feasting
had at last been ended, and the people
were en route for Chilcoot to put up their
salmon. They said ** the days were dear
now because so few will be before the big
snows ;" but they stopped for church, and
we had a good time. I can get on now
very well without an interpreter. . . .

The mail brought us a most welcome
telegram from Dr. Kendall, saying, *' Go on
with the building on your plans." We
would naturally shrink from such an un-
dertaking, but because we believe that
we will be so directed as to secure more
glory to His name whom we delight to
serve, we are grateful for this author-
ity. Philip and Sarah, with their little Ade-
line, were here to church on Sabbath, and
on Monday morning Philip went to work
on the contract for getting out logs for the
Home. Last evening, at sunset, he towed
in and landed, above high tide, the first
eight logs for the building. It had been
a full day for me, but, taking the children
to the beach, I sat down on a fallen tree
and watched the landing. I forgot my

LIFE IN ALASKA.

355

weariness in the joy of seeing at last a
beginning of this house, so labored for,
so prayed for and so waited for. Every
bump of the logs sent a throb of grati-
tude through me, and I felt penitent for
my want of faith a few weeks ago. But
God has caused it to come to pass, and I
am so glad and thankful !

October 11. — Yesterday morning Philip
came early, looking as though he had lost
his last friend.

"Me baby sick; me min-ten " ("little")
" baby sick," he said. " Me no sneep las'
night."

" Why, what is the matter?" I asked. " Did
Baby cry ?"

" No ; no cry. Me heart too sick baby."

I sent him to bring \he litde Adeline and
her mother, and soon found her quite sick
with lung-fever. These wretched houses
of theirs are like caves, and the little doors
have been shut up this wet summer, while
the roofs are open, letting in all the rain on
the earthen floors. Now, when they bring
a few pieces of bark for floors, the people
go right into them, build a little fire, and

356

LIFK IN ALASKA.

breathe in the poison mould and must
out of the reeking ground and walls.

After a day's good nursing and care the
little one breathed much better, and seemed
in a fair way to recover if the care could be
continued. I ot daring to let them take it
again in such condition to their own hut,
we have them still here in the coziest cor-
ner of the sitting-room.

As I have clothed little Adeline in flan-
nel now, I asked her mother to give me the
little garment I took off, to show you a spe-
cimen of the Indian women's sewing. This
is the style of dress worn by every Chilcat
female, big and little — sometimes with none
other ; but in the case of the women there
is more often a straight gathered skirt worn
over this, and perhaps a cotton jacket.
They are all, even when made of the flim-
siest material, sewed with such extreme
nicety ! Their favorite position for sew-
ing is lying on the floor, face downward
and elbows resting on the ground.* They
hold the needle between thumb and finger,
pointing outward, and sew from them.

* See illustration, page 151.

LIFE IN ALASKA.

357

October 10. — Philip's baby is dead. The
litde body is to be burned to-day at Chilcoot,
whither its mother and her friends took it
yesterday morning at daybreak.

The baby had improved every day ; and
when, on Saturday, Philip told me that he
\vould take the little one home at noon, I
told him it would be best, as she was bet-
ter. The weather had .^rown more mild
and quiet, and their house had been thor-
oughly heated, their friends having kept up
a constant fire for several days. He went
down and hung up thick blankets, making
a warm room for Hab\' and her mother.
They wrapped the child well in blankets
(it was dressed in my baby's flannels and
socks) and took it down to the village.
Early yesterday morning Philip came to
tell us that the baby was gone. His slow
step, white face and swollen eyes told some-
thing of his grief. We too had become
attached to the fat little baby and were
grieved much, though I realize to the full
that it was taken in mercy from a miser-
able existence here.

As soon as it was dead its tribal friends

358

LIFE IN ALASKA.

bf'gan to wrap it in its blankets, ready for
the mysterious journey to the spirit-world,
and, running out a canoe, put the baby into
it with its mother and hurried away to Chil-
coot, in spite of the father's agonized entreat-
ies. He did not believe that the child was
dead, only tired and weak. He begged
them to wait till I could see it, then that
they would not take it away on the Sabbath,
but wait till Monday; but in vain. They
left him alone, and he came to tell us, say-
ing that if his child were dead he would go
away on the steamboat to work. It was
truly his idol. Never have I seen shown
anywhere more tender solicitude, more
anxious love and earnest, watchful care,
than he has shown to that little baby. He
had this summer, with part of his earnings,
bought a nice camphor-wood trunk, and
had several lovely rose-blankets in it.
When the baby took sick he immediately
opened his treasure, and made its bed more
comfortable and beautiful than I could have
done by giving him my best. I told him that
it pleased me to see him use these things
for his child while it lived and needed them,

LIFE IM ALASKA.

359

instead of letting the baby die of exposure
in order to save blankets to give away and
burn at their burial-feast, as so many In-
dians do.

"Oh no," he said; "I can't do that. I
love my baby ; my heart all same's white
men's heart."

While here he would throw himself on
his hands and knees beside it on the floor
and lay his head so tenderly on its little
pillow, cooing to it and kissing it like the
tenderest mother. He was its best nurse,
and would not leave it all those days of its
sickness except to get their food. But he
rested when I would take it ; and when I
came at niirht, whether at twelve or two or
four o'clock, with the light, and took up the
litde thing into my arms, after seeing it com-
fortably settled he would draw out from
about his head somewhere his little book
and begin to pore over it, appealing to me
constandy for confirmation or correction
of w^hat he had spelled. He seemed so
troubled about the burning of the body.
We told him to let them burn it : that
could not make the litde one unhappy ;

36o

LIFE IN ALASKA.

but we wished him to make no feast, to
have no burninc^ or tearincr up of food
and clothing. He said he would have to
burn two new blankets with the baby and
give its tribe food, but \\ii would do no
more.

We hear that the people are getting up
quite an excitement again, all saying that
wherever ministers are the children die.
Last week we had succeeded in nrettino:
some men to work, but now every creature
is p^one asjain. Some have nrone to Chil-
coot for this burning; the majority, how-
ever, have gone to Clok-won, to another
great feast, given to the lower villages in
return compliment. We hear that tliey
are going to have plenty of hoochinoo.

Some of these lower people, who had
raised bushels of potatoes and used them
for the Y'hin-da-stachy feast, have not one
morsel of food for winter, and they have
families of little children. They intended
o^oins!" to work on the doof-salmon last
week to dry it, but now comes the irre-
sistible call to feast at Clok-won with the
Cog- won -tons.

LIFE IN ALASKA,

361

Ned has never come back since running
away to the feast. . . .

Carrie M. Willard.

To tlic Mission Society, Wilmington, Illinois,

Chii.cat Mihskin,

Haines, Alaska, July 7, 1883.

Dear Friends : Let me take this oppor-
tunity of thankini^ you all for your interest
in the boat also. We did not get a steamer,
but a good rovv-and-sail boat which answers
our purposes well and is a great comfort.
We have built a Io^j: boat-house on the
beach, where between trips she is safely
sheltered.

Durinii- these summer months the steam-
ers come to the canneries which are on the
Chilcat Inlet. The distance from Haines is
two or three mlU^s, across the peninsula,
through a terrible trackless bush. We
have no roads in this country, you know,
and to go around the point, as we must
for our freight, it is thirtv miles; so you
see even now how much we need the
boat. Then for six months during the
v/inter I suppose there will be no steamer,

362

LIFE I/V ALASKA.

and our only dependence from Juneau will
be our own little boat. . . .

Chii.cat Mission,

Haines, Alaska, October 9, 1883.

Rkv. and Mrs. P. F. Sanbokxk —

Dear Friends: There is some^^^^'ne so
j^ood to write ! Last evenin^^s at ..inset,
the first eiijht loos for the Home were
towed in and delivered above hi^rh tide by
Philip, our youn<^ silversmith. It brings a
feeling more nearly akin to th'^t experi-
ence on hearing of the first gift toward
the Duilding (a year and a half ago) than
anything since. . . .

You write to know what to do for us.
We shall need everything in the spring.
We hope to get the logs on the ground
ready for early work wiion the snow
goes off.

We will be obliged to take some boys
before we have the house up, in order to
secure them and that we may have their
help in the much work to be done. We
can do this by using the little schoolhouse
as a temporary dormitory. But as yet we

LIFE IN ALASKA.

3^3

have no boys' clothing-, nor bed-ticks, nor
blankets. Of the former, the very best
kind will be of brown duckini^ canvas — at
least for pantaloons — and blue denims or
hickory for waists and shirts. The latter
miirht be varied with stroma jeans and
cheviot flannel. Our Ned can wear a pair
of new jean pantaloons only one month be-
fore they need new seat and knees. This
clothing should be for boys of ages ranging
from ten to sixteen years. Our beds will
for the most part be single ones — say two
widths of hickory two yards long, with a
six-inch strip between them for the thick-
ness of the bed. Blankets (colored ones)
are better than quilts, and more easily kept
clean than comforts. They are cheaper, it
is said, on this coast than in the East. Then ,
we shall want crash towels and everything.
May God bless you for your good words !

Carrie M. Willard.

Chilcat Mission,

Haines, Alaska, October 17, 1883,

Dear Mrs

In a note by our last

mail but one Mrs. L. asked m« to write you

3^4

LIFE IN ALASKA.

in reference to our Chilcat children, aii<^ ^ii<<r>
lect for you a girl to bear the name <A

. I gladly comply at my earlies(t (f^-

portunity, and yet I can only writ<^ m *
general way. I am not able at omjt^. (t/y
give you a particular child. We m^)^
fondly hope to have the Home opotij 1)>;^
another summer, and it is exceedifii^y
desirable that the support of its chihllirfoifjj
shall all have been secured by that 1^4ij|)^>^y
day; but, knowing the difficulties, and ^)t--
preciating the wish of those who giv*- (ti<v
this object that neither change nor laiil]ijijr(*;
should be connected with the name lj}',v^y
love, I think delay of appointment \>i-'}^f
than risk of a greater disappoinlmtnit..

You cannot understand just what ^)f^
difficulties are : their name is Legion. EvV^ity
superstition of the people, every titi, ^;it^^h
natural and monstrous, interferes witih ^^.
plans of missionaries among Indians,. J
might give you a bright, promising ^iijrll
brought to me by her mother to-da\ : I
might take her into my own home m\^l
family, adopting her for you with aill itlliv^*;
papers and ceremonies necessary foir (fc

LIl'E /// 4//f^A'A.

365

transference of a k^m'^fhi'm ; and yet before
our mail is ready tx> ^(Uirf, fakin^^ to you a
brilliant account oi 3,'f(<)>(<:/'/;dinc^s and prob-
abilities, I nii^ht JiaV'^'T Uv pr(;pare the ac-
count of her runiiin;/ '^-w^-ty or of her abduc-
tion, of her beiug U^fUHf^xX for witchcraft,
given for a wife or vyll'i t(v white men. I
might tell the fa'nily H/y ^ait — that I would
surely take the girl \n ikt. spring; I might
give her your nam^e mul \tt them go away
happy, leaving nie mtk th(\ full assurance
that the child was r*i^i4^ for me whenever
I could tik(; her; a.iiiJA|l ifv<^ <t week 1 might
find that the wJiol^^ i^im'Ay has removed
elsewhere, from wh*'m^ I f:ou]d not expect
ever to receive my mm^fnt litde girl.

So I assure you, <Ui4f friends, that, from
such a point of vw-w^ these scholarships
are very trying 'dsid << Won raging diings.
You wish t(^ watch t'^" growth and prog-
ress of a particular <;%^id in the name of
one you love 1 y<]»4^M»rvd ant

sympa-

thize with you in tht^, Utti is this the best

? Mav 1 not i

what seems to

me a higher aim — ^ ^iis^r and a better
plan? It is OIK wiikll will alike enlarge

366

LIFE /N A /.AS A' A.

the sympathies of the j^iv<;rs and their ex-
perimcMital knovvled^ci of mission work and
reHeve the missionaries of so ^reat a tax.
Would not the person whom you dehj^dit
to honor in this way be just as truly hon-
ored in this other way? Instead of saying,
*' Select for us a child of ;^ood promise —
one we can keep, and whose course we
can follow — and we will support her in
your school and call her * So-and-So,' "
suppose you should say, ** We wish to have
a scholarship in your school, to be named
* So-and-So,' and would lyr ^lad to have
occasional accounts of the child who may
be benefited by it ;" and supfxjse you pay
your one hundred dollars a year into the
hand of the Board of Home* Missions for
the purpose of keepinj^ up this scholarship,
always to be known by your chosen name.
Then, if for any cause it became necessary
to substitute any otlu'r child for the one
first selected, you mi^^dit in this way gain
the histories of a dozen children, with all
the vari(!d circumstances that caused the
change, and thus learn more of the habits,
superstitions and needs of the people; than

LIFE IN ALASKA.

367

you could in any other way. You mit^ht
possibly have the same child for a number
of years ; but if not, you would have the
joy of knovvinj^ that more than one lit-
tle candle had been lighted, and you would
pray God to keep it burninjr until the per-
fect day. Vor they cannot be in these
Christian traininf;-homes a week without
some little spark at least of knowledge
having been ki idled in their dark minds.
We hope that they can never be just the
same as before ; and who can tell whether
this or that shall [irosper — that dropped by
the wayside, or this so long tended by anx-
ious, watchful love ?

Have you lutard of the little child-wife
in our school ? 1 Icr husband is sawing
wood for us to-day. He sometimes comes
to school with her and his own little ones,
whom she lugs with her everywhere she
goes. It is almost two years since he took
her, the daughter of his own brother, yet
she is a sliLfht little creature of not over
eleven years new. She has fretted so that
her father has several times allowed her to
gc home for a little whil(\ She is with her

368

LIFE IN ALASKA.

parents just now, and her father says he
does not want her to go back to her hus-
band any more : " she cries too much."
He wants us to take her into the Home ;
and oh, I do hope he may not cliange his
mind before the place is ready for her.

That bright Httle son of Shat-e-ritch who
so manfully helped to take our mission stuff
up the river a year ago, and whom we hoped
to have in the Home, has fallen heir to his
uncle-chief's houses, blankets and widow —
an old woman from whom death may re-
lease him in a few years; but he has taken
possession, and is now lord and master of a
chief's estate. . . . Cakrik M. Wii.lard.

Chii.cat Mission,

Haines, Alaska, November 7, 1883.

Dear Friends: A few days ago we
learned of the sad fate of another of our
girls, who is now about sixteen years old.
About two years ago she was given as sec-
ond wife to an old man whose first wife was
as decrepit as himself. This she endured
until a year ago, when her position was
rendered still more terrible by the accusa-

r.IFE IN ALASKA.

369

tion of witchcraft. She was tortured, and
at lenjrth confessed that she had, together
with Jim (our Ned's father), been Uie means
of the death of a Httle boy who was the son
of Cla-not's sister, and of tlie paralysis of
his father's arm. vShe had stolen the dirty,
racr<i"ed shirt-sleeve of the man, she said,
and given it to Jim, who hid it in a " dead-
box ;" and, immediately after, the man's
arm began to shrivel. When asked after-
ward why she told this lie, she said. " Be-
cause oi' the torture." The child had noth-
ing with which to pay for her release, and
the afflicted family took her for their slave.
We hear that the friends are but waitinor to
begin again their trial of Jim. Of course
the accusing party is a very strong one —
both Cla-not and his sister. . . .

Fanny does the most of our interpreting
now, and does it simply and well, though
it is an especially trying position for her.
When we found that Mrs. Dickinson was
not coming last Sabbath, Mr. Willard said,

''Well, Fanny will have to talk for me
to-day."

She looked down, and did not make any

370

LIFE hW ALASKA.

reply except a movement of impatience or
uneasiness.

Mr. Willard began to go over the lesson
with her ; it was on the raising of the wid-
ow's son of Nain. When he was through,
he asked if she understood it.

•' No," she said, very distinctly.

I called her to come and sit down beside
me in the big window, and, taking a lot of
blocks from Kotzie's play-box. I built a city
with a wall about it, explained the purpose
of the latter, then showed the little house
where lived the widow, told of her one boy
who cared for her, of his death, of her grief.
With a doll and the lid of a box and a
winding ribbon, we led the little proces-
sion of mourners down the street and
through the city's gate. We had before
seen that Jesus was leaving a neighbor-
ing town, and now he was nearing the
gate as the funeral came out. Then the
joyful return.

Among the many applications, I spoke
of how like the dead we all are with Jesus,
of our helplessness until we are touched by
Him who makes us strong to do for him,

1.1 IE IN ALASKA.

371

and brought it down to I'anny, whose
tongue was dead before her people until
Jesus touched her heart as ht* did the bier
of the widow's son ; then right away it was
full of words for him. There was a change
instantly in her whole aspect, and in a few
moments she slipped away to her room to
gain more of the help which Ciod alone can
give us ; and I knew then that she would
do well. She did do well, sjjeaking out
with perfect ease ; so that all in the build-
ing could hear without any effort.

We had two services, and a roomful of
children followed us home at niirhtfall. I
had asked Minnie, the little child-wife, to
come home with me, because a few days
before she had committed a little theft and
I wanted to have a talk with her. But, as
all the rest came and the room filled up, I
concluded to cfive them all the benefit (.>f
the lesson. They were looking at a pict-
ure of little Samuel answerincjf the call he
thought Eli's ; so, taking that story of God's
talking to the little boy and telling him what
he wanted him th do for a text, I preached
them a little :-ermon full of questions on

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LIFE IN ALASKA.

the commandments — God's talk to each of
these Httle boys and girls. Without hav-
ing made any personal allusions, I soon
discovered my little culprit under the table;
but when the closing talk of Jesus' love and
mercy and help came, the little head came
out into the light in its eagerness, and the
hymns were sung joyously. The children
are learning to sing beautifully together,
and are getting quite an idea of the parts,
trying, with no mean success, the alto and
bass as well as the air.

Minnie's father came to see us about her.
He says that his brother is very angry that
he didn't send her back ; he says that she
belonors to him and he needs her. I told
her father that if he did make her go back
again I should tell the man-of-war the very
first thing when I saw it again.

Oh, if we only had the Home ! or if we
had known in time that we could have got-
ten provision enough for more, then how
glad we would have been to lay it in and
take these little ones ! The people's ex-
tremity as to food seems to be the great
opportunity of getting all the children, if

LIFE IN ALASKA.

373

we could take care of them; but God knows
it all, and he loves them.

Nove7nbe7' 9, 1883. — Among the many
demands of yesterday, besides those of my
home and children, was the cutting and fit-
ting of a nice black alpaca polonaise for
Mrs. Chilcoot lack. She has a tall, slen-
der figure and such a sweet, sad young
face, a good head with a heavy braid of
glossy black hair, and in her new dress
looks like a nice white lady.

Before I had finished cutting it came
Mrs, Harry Kah-dum-jah, a litde crip-
pled woman with four children (two of
whom I immediately despatched to school),
with an old frock-coat which her husband
had gotten from some of the white men.
She wanted a whole suit from it for her
five-year-old boy. We ripped it up and
cut a nice litde jacket from the skirts, and
a good pair of pants from the sleeves.
From the extravagant pleasure at the re-
sult, I could see that she had not really
expected me to give her all she wanted
out of that coat. She is very bright and
a good seamstress, and took up all my

374

LIFE IN ALASKA.

dj''ectIons for its making quite readily.
When she had finished sewing up the
seams and I broucfht a hot flat-iron to
press them out, she seemed as much de-
lighted as if I had presented her with a
new tailor-made suit. The little boy him-
self was so rejoiced with the idea of hav-
ing a coat that fitted him that he ran off
to school with the body of it on while we
were fixing the sleeves. Her baby-boy is
a little older than mine — a beautiful child
just creeping about the floor. He had only
the customary rag about his shoulders — a
little short cotton shirt — though it was so
cold that with all the fire I could keep go-
ing in the' big box-stove I dared not let my
baby down on the floor, with all his thick,
warm flannels.

The child was not well ; and when I
brought an old pair of flannel drawers to
put on him, his mother showed me that his
spine was curved,

" Why, what did that ?" I asked.

With as much seriousness as though she
were saying " A fall," she said,

" Witches."

LIFE IN ALASKA.

375

I had many times seen the child lugged
about by a litde six-year-old sister, slung
over her back in a blanket, from which it
would be a very easy matter for the fat,
heavy, helpless bauy to drop. Of course
I gave her a lesson on witchcraft and the
proper care of not only babies, but their
weak little sisters.

Before I had finished, as if to give the
discourse point, my baby Fred, in his healthy
restlessness, grew tired of the arm-chair
into which I had tucked him, and, trying
to gain the floor, reached it in too much
haste, getting such a bump on his wee pug-
nose as broucrht the blood. As soon as I
had hushed him in my arms I turned to
the woman with an expression of great
concern, and asked,

" What is the matter with Baby's nose ?
See the blood !"

She looked surprised a little, and an-
swered that he struck it when he fell from
the chair. But I gravely said,

" It must be witches."

She glanced quickly up to my face, and
I could see the expression of half terror,

376

LIFE IN ALASKA.

half surprise, that had possession of hers
before her searching revealed to her the
changing expression of mine ; then she
broke into a hearty laugh as she clearly
comprehended my meaning.

There were a dozen or more minor calls
from men about wood, women who were
in trouble with their husbands, parents
wanting us to take their children, counsels
about a boy who ran away because his fa-
ther whipped him ; they were afraid that
he had gone to the woods and killed him-
self. Then came the getting of dinner for
the school-goers, the earlier lunching of
Kotzie and Fred and putting the latter to
bed for his midday sleep.

After dinner the room was still full of
Indians wanting help in various ways.
Some had sick children whom they wished
me to visit. It was impossible for me to
leave home even for a moment until my
own little ones were asleep in their beds
for the night and their papa in the house
to hearken should they cry.

In the evening I took the lantern and
went to the village. Ann and Fanny had

LIFE IN ALASKA.

377

washed up the dishes, and wanted to go
with me ; so I gladly took them. We went
to the little sick girl first. I found her ly-
ing curled up on a little sheepskin spread
on the floor near the fire, and suffering.
The child's soft, large eyes looked mourn-
fully out from the thick, matted hair ; the
quivering of the dirty little mouth was al-
most hidden by the old blanket she drew
so tighdy about her ; but she saw the cakes
I slipped under it, and looked up at me as
I stroked back her hair and sang her hymns
in Kling-get. There were about thirty per-
sons in the house, some at work, others
idling, while the great fish, a yard long and
nearly a foot through, hu g before the blaz-
ing fire on a string from tiie rafter above.
An old man with a stick kept it spinning
around ; a pan beneath caught the drip-
pings. The people, old and young, joined
in the singing ; then we repeated the twen-
ty-third psalm in Kling-get. Her mother
said the litde one's most frequent cry was
for "school." I gave directions for the
proper care of the child, and this morn-
ing sent clean clothes and medicine.

378

LIFE IN ALASKA.

Our next call was on the old Chilcoot
doctor who lingers so strangely ; he has
been dying with consumption for years,
and now is blind. He caught my hand
eagerly, and between his gasps for breath
called me his mother, his grandmother, the
good chief-lady, etc., saying that he wanted
so much to see my face. I spoke to him
of death, of God, the Saviour and heaven ;
and I told him the story of Paul, whom God
made blind to outside things because he
wished to open the eyes of his heart, and
we prayed that God would open this poor
old man's spiritual eyes. He professes to
believe in Christ and asked me to cut his
hair off, saying that he wanted to die right
and he wished Mr. Willard to bury his
body. This house was also full of peo-
ple, who listened to the good words. But
time fails me to tell of the other visits.
All were, I trust, profitable and will leave
behind some blessing.

Carrie M. Willard.

INDEX AND GLOSSARY.

[The Numerals Refer to the Paces.]

Adams (United States war-
steamer), 234, 237.

Adeline (small sail-and-row
boat belonging to the Chil-
cat mission), 311, 322, 351,

352, 361.
Allen (Sitka schoolboy), 280.
Anahootz (Sitka chief), 16, 17.
Animals, 189, 316.
Apples, Indian, 330.
Austin, Alonzo E., 15, 18, 28,

29. 33, 36, 95. 187, 247, 262.
Austin, Mrs. Alonzo E., ^y^,

234, 235,241,242,246,278;

Hospitality to the Willards, 1 3.
Austin, Miss Linnie, 28, 36.

Beardslee (United States Na-
vy), Commander L. A., 30,

Beardslee, Mrs. L, A., 36.

Bell, Church-, 44.

Berries, 20, 113, 198, 199, 326.

Bessie Ann Frazer (Chilcat
schoolgirl), 312, 324, 325,
327, 341.

Birds, 189, 225.

Blarney-stone, Sitka, Traditifjn
concerning, 350,

Boyd (mission station among
the Hoonyah), 44, 95, 247,
288, 345. See IJoonyah.

CalM'ORNIA (United States

mail-steamer), 19.
Canoe, 75, 112, 213, 2r4, 2l6,

221, 224, 225, 226, 242.
Carvings, 39, 78, 277.
Chatham Straits, 40, 287.
Chilcat, 18, 19, 26, 39, 40, 47,

49,58,72,83,86,93,94,101,

no, 132, 134, 144, 145. »55.

156, 165, i68, 170, 1S8, 190,

221, 227, 232, 234, 237, 241,

289; Fighting among, 14, 79,

80-82.
Chilcat River, 47, 96, 97, 102,

140, 198, 202, 293, 299.
Chilcat Home at Haines, 227,

228, 229, 231, 245, 246, 264,

354, 362, 368, 372.

380

INDEX AND GLOSSARY.

Chilcoot, 47, 50, 53, 65, 66, 75,
89, 102, 108, 139, 188, 290,

357. 360.

Chilcoot River, 47, loi, 202.

Children, Sale of, 153.

Chiibtnias, 158, 159.

Clah (Indian teacher), 49.

Cla-not (Chilcal chief), 67, 69,
141-144, 169, 170, 172, 311,
314, 315, 369.

Climate, 35, 105, 136, 138, 142,
157. 172, 173-177. 180, 200-
205, 213, 267, 283, 310. See
Snow and Sun.

Clok-won (upper Chilcat vil-
lage, marked on the map
"Willard"),66, 77,78, 216,
219, 226, 227, 295, 317, 353,
360.

Co-ek-y (feast for the dead), 255,

345-
Cog-won-tonc 343, 360.

Corlies, Rev. W. H. R., 26, 27,

95.316,317.
Corlies, Mrs. W. H. R,, 26.
Corwin (United States revenue

marine steamer), 236, 238.
Cremation, 122, 125, 127, 128,

129, 130, 131, 141, 173-177.

178-180, 255, 293, 357, 359,

360.
Cross Sound, 288.
Customs of natives : Conferring

a name, 84; Sale of children,

152; Treatment of girls, 178,

»79. 230; Marriage, 98, 99,

138, 139, 143, 163, 278 307,
33S;L)ress,i36,i52,i58, 160,
161,210,356; Morning bath,
161 ; Eating, II3, I99, 200,
344; Making a feast, 342;
Making peace in war, 95, 141-
146, 165-167, 237, 238; Sick-
ness, 109, 1 14, 115, 116, 117,
118, 119, 120, 121,122; Feast
for the dead, 255, 345, Fu-
neral, 124, 125,126, 131, 249,
357; Future life, 249, 305;
Murder, 14, 16, 79,80,81,82;
Family affection, 162.

Dead, Feast for, 255, 345.

Deaf natives, 212.

De Groff, Mr., 211.

Dickinson, George (white trad-
er), 49. 93. 219.

Dickinson, Mrs. George (inter-
preter at Haines), 49, 56, 71,
75,84,94. 105,159,160,182,
219, 248, 300, 301, 302, 350,

369-
Dickinson, William, 72.

Dona-wok (Chilcat chief), 50,
56, 67, 71, 74, 88, 89, 98,
101, 130, 138, 139, 143, 206,
214, 224, 225, 306, 311.

Dress customs, 136, 152, 158,
160, l6l, 210, 356.

Drowning regarded a great
evil, 260.

Dunbar, Miss Maggie J. (Mrs.
J. W. McFarland), 22, 247.

INDEX AM) a/.oss/tuy,

381

Duncan, Mr. William, 44, 49-
Dy-ya Inlet (Ty-ya), 188, 214,
290, 320, 321.

Earthquake, 217.

Eating customs, 113, 199. 200,

344-
Education, Compulsory, 31.

Family affection, 162.
Fanny (Chilcat schoolgirl),
209,210,313, 324.325. 327.

3(^9-
Favorite (private trading-steam-
er), 14. 19. l"» '^7. '95.

196, 211, 213, 220, 238.
Feast-making, 342.
Fish, 56, 135, 189, 198, 199.

206-208, 215, 216, 221, 224,

286, 321, 326.
Flowers, 26, 102, 224, 286, 310.
Funeral customs, 18, 124, 125,

126,131,249,357. SeeCVf-

viation.

Girls, Treatment of, 178, 179.

230. 367. 368.
Glaciers, 105, 139, 217, 326.
Glass (United States Navy),

Commander Henry, 14, 15,

16, 18, 30, 33, 70, 127.
Gold, 135, 230.

Gould, Miss Clara A., 246, 322.
Gould, Rev. J. Loomis, 246, 247,
Gun-un-uh (interior tribe), 317.

See Slick.

Hajnks, Mr?, V. E. H., 206,

210, tl-J, IV).
|{aiii«» (M%mhtt station among

the CJ<ik»l*), 47, 241, 246,

247, 2^J» 1'7. 3^>'-
\\i>yn^\n^'^tt fan intoxicating

drink;, \(u Tfh 32, 214, 215,

360,
WtMKSnmm \nSrt, 67, 280.
n(x>nyaj*, 44, 247, 288, 345.

Sfc fh/yt/,
Houi>t:», 5;^, 54,
Hydah \fi\tP, 25,67, 213.

jAfKV/N, ^K^^., I<ev. Sheldon,
3, 15, 2(, <K>, 39. 40. 43. 44.
49. 5>^» ^»h ^'7. ^'8. 94. 95.
132, If J, iSi, 144. '53. '84»
218, 235, 239, 241, 246, 270,
316, 322,

Jackixy» immum station among
ilj<? Hy'J»t»«>), 246, 247.

Jameitz/wwf United States man-
of-yya*/, I4, 30, 65, 281.

Jewelry, SnMye, 33, 39.

Jill), SU//^/ kMffj, 143, 145-

Juneaufjj^yM mining camp), 135,
138, 1%^, |W>, 196, 197, 211,
213, 2»$, 216, 217, 220. 231,

28«, %(n,

K^U'i'UU't^, (Chilcat chief),

34S'
KeiMlaU, \h t),. Rev. Henry,

354-
K-hos-sy Htfti Inlet, 290.

382

JXD/'IX AND a I. OSS A KY.

Kill-is-noo ((ishiny ami trading
post of North-western Trad-
ing Company), 237,

Kinney cannery, 321.

Kling-get (language spoken by
all the tribes of the Alexan-
der Archipelago except the
Ilydah), 142.

Krause, Drs. Aurel and Arthur,

135. 190. 193-

Langdon, Mrs. C. II., 44.

Language, 39.

Lawrence (boy at Sitka), 279,

280.
Lindenberg Harbor, 285, 287.
Lord's Supper, 235, 239.
Lot, 211.
Lull (United States Navy),Coni.

niander Edward P., 66, 70.
Lynn Channel, 47, loi, 202,

288.
Lyons, Rev. G. W., 28.

Mail, 135, 138, 185, 186, 187,
196, 213, 216, 241. 311, 316,

317-
McFarland, Mrs. A. R., 22, 49,

246.

McFarland Home (training-
school for girls at Fort Wran-
gell), 22, 25, 26, 139, 226.

McFarland, Rev. John W.,247.

Manufactures, 25, 39.

Marriage, 98, 99, 138, 139, 143,
163, 278, 307, 335.

Matthews, Miss Elizabeth L.^
235, 241, 242, 246, 286, 290,
297, 311, 322, 324, 325, 327,

350. 367. 3f»8.
Medicine-men, 47, 107, 109,
no, 114, 115, 117, 118, 120,
121, 122, 131, 132, 133, 134,
146, 179, 237, 238, 258-260,

345. See Witchcraft.
Merriman (United States Navy),

Commander, 237, 328.
Met-lah-kat-lah (British mission

station), 47, 96.
Miners, Rescue of, 320-324;

Welcome, 353.
Missions, Woman's Executive

Committee of Home, 47,

245-

Moses Jamestown (Sitka school-
boy), 281.

Mount Saint Elias, 21.

Murder customs, 14, 16, 79, 80,
81, 82.

Nauk Bay, 206, 207, 224.
Nauk-y-stih (Indian name given

to Mrs. Willard), 84-87.
Ned (Chilcat schoolboy), 311.

312, 314, 315, 316, 318, 321,

325.331. 332, 351-
North-west Trading Company,

197, 238.

Oil, Fish, 57, 112, 113, 199,

346.
Owl, Superstitions concerning.

INDEX AND GLOSSARY.

383

320-331 ; Tradition of origin,
346-350-

Parkkr (United States Navy),

Surgeon, 70.
I'aul, Louis and Tillie (native

missionaries), 215-217, 219,

226, 293, 295, 317, 318.
Peace-making, 92, 141-146,

165-167, 237, 238.
Peril Strait, 285.
Philip (Chilcat silversmith),

333-339. 354-3^=o-
Polygamy, 1 7 1, 335-339-
Portage Bay, 47, loi, 202, 289.
Potter, Mrs. B. F., 261.
Prayer, Natives' faith in, 107,

108, 109, no, 306, 307.
Productions, 73, 135, 198, 199.

Rankin, Miss Kate A., 322,

323-

Raven, Superstitions concern-
ing, 340-

Religious belief concerning a

future life, 108.

Retreat Point, 288.

Rivers: Chilcat, 47,96, 97, 102,
140, 198, 202, 293, 299 ; Chil-
coot, 47, loi, 202; Yukon,

231, 321 ; Pelly, 321.

Rose (small coasting-steamer),

232, 233, 234, 283, 284.

Salmon, 56, 105, 113, 135, 296,
310, 346, 354-

Scenery, 193, 224, 225, 288,

289.
Scholarships in mission schools,

364-
Schools: Russian (Sitka), 28;

McKarland Home, 22,25,26,
139; Sheldon Jackson Insti-
tute, 1 5, 29, 30, 153, 154,239,
270-282, 350; Ilaines, 49,
105, 164; Clok-won, 219;
Conp- ! ory attendance, 31.
Seal, 190.

Shat-e-ritch (Chilcat chief), 66,

79, 83, 84, 89, 142, 145, 146,

212, 220, 368.

Sheep, Mountain, 107,

Sheldon Jackson Institute (an

industrial training-school for

Indian boys and girls), 29, 30,

153,154, 239, 270-282,350.

Simpson, Port (British mission

station), 67, 170.
Sitka, 15, 19, 27, 29, 39, 67, 89,
94, 95, 96, 105, 112, 139,
143, 187, 196, 197, 213, 245,
247, 264-282, 285, 291, 345,
346; Berries, 20; Vegetables,
21; Murders, 16; Funeral, 18.
Sitka Jack, 165, 166, 167, 172.
Snow, 136, 138, 157, 158, 172-
177, 198, 200-205, 206, 213,
224. 267, 354.
Snow-shoes, 136, 138, 140, 172,

185, 200, 205.
Steam-launch, 90, 155,220,224,
226, 241,361.

384

INDEX AND GLOSSARY.

Stick (interior), 80, 1 49, 168,
169, 293. See dn-un-uh.

Stickeen tribe, 26, 39.

Styles, Walter B., 247, 277.

Styles, Mrs. W. B., 95.

Sun, Rising and setting of, 20,
137, 222.

Symonds (United States N^vy),
Lieutenant F. M., 30.

Takoo tribe, 135.

Te-nany (fishing village), 140,

188,
Totems, 79, 343.
Townsend, Port, 196.

Vegetables, 21, 135.

Wachusetie (United States
war-steamer), 59, 65, 127,

234-
Willard, Rev. Eugene S.,9, 15,

17. 18,57.68,71,75,83,89.

90, 91, 106, 107, no, 113,

120, 124, 126, 127, 131, 139,

141, 144, 146, 149, 150, 166-

169, 170, 172, 173, 177, 181,

182, 188, 209, 218, 219, 226,

241, 271, 286, 290, 295, 309,

311.315.316,318, 320-323,

324, 327, 328, 329, 338, 350,

378.
Willard, Mrs. Eugene S. (I)io.

graphical sketch), 8, 215,218.
Willard, Carrie (Kotzie), 239,

243, 244, 262, 263, 290, 297,

300, 329, 351, 352.
Willard, Frederick Eugene

Austin, 239, 241, 243, 262,

298, 351. 352, 375-

Willards: Sickness, 180-183,
218,219; Starving, 218, 220-
223, 231-233; Abundant la-
bors, 373-378.

Witchcraft, 107, 1 20, 121, 13 1,
141, 172, 173, 178-180, 205,
279, 280, 281, 300-305, 330,
346, 369. See Mediciue-mnt.

Woman's Executive Committee
of Home Missions, 47, 245.

Wrangell, Fort, 21, 49, 94, 105,
179, 196, 211, 226, 228, 229,
246, 247, 318, 322, 345.

Y'hindastachy (lower Chil-
cat village), 345, 351, 353,

360.
Young, Rev. S. Hall, 25, 27,

247.
Yukon River, 231.

THE END.