In An Hour Or So We Were Directly In Front Of It
And Beheld It In All Its Crystal Glory Descending From Its White
Mountain Fountains And Spreading Out In An Immense Fan Three Or Four
Miles Wide Against Its Tree-Fringed Terminal Moraine.
But, large as
it is, it long ago ceased to discharge bergs.
The Chilcats are the most influential of all the Thlinkit tribes.
Whenever on our journey I spoke of the interesting characteristics of
other tribes we had visited, my crew would invariably say, "Oh, yes,
these are pretty good Indians, but wait till you have seen the
Chilcats." We were now only five or six miles distant from their
lower village, and my crew requested time to prepare themselves to
meet their great rivals. Going ashore on the moraine with their boxes
that had not been opened since we left Fort Wrangell, they sat on
boulders and cut each other's hair, carefully washed and perfumed
themselves and made a complete change in their clothing, even to
white shirts, new boots, new hats, and bright neckties. Meanwhile, I
scrambled across the broad, brushy, forested moraine, and on my
return scarcely recognized my crew in their dress suits. Mr. Young
also made some changes in his clothing, while I, having nothing
dressy in my bag, adorned my cap with an eagle's feather I found on
the moraine, and thus arrayed we set forth to meet the noble
Thlinkits.
We were discovered while we were several miles from the village, and
as we entered the mouth of the river we were hailed by a messenger
from the chief, sent to find out who we were and the objects of our
extraordinary visit.
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