Bread and beans and dried
fruit we had in abundance, and none of these rank aboriginal dainties
ever came nigh any meal of mine. The Indians eat the hips of wild
roses entire like berries, and I was laughed at for eating only the
outside of this fruit and rejecting the seeds.
When we were approaching the village of the Auk tribe, venerable
Toyatte seemed to be unusually pensive, as if weighed down by some
melancholy thought. This was so unusual that I waited attentively to
find out the cause of his trouble.
When at last he broke silence it was to say, "Mr. Young, Mr.
Young," - he usually repeated the name, - "I hope you will not stop at
the Auk village."
"Why, Toyatte?" asked Mr. Young.
"Because they are a bad lot, and preaching to them can do no good."
"Toyatte," said Mr. Young, "have you forgotten what Christ said to
his disciples when he charged them to go forth and preach the gospel
to everybody; and that we should love our enemies and do good to
those who use us badly?"
"Well," replied Toyatte, "if you preach to them, you must not call on
me to pray, because I cannot pray for Auks."
"But the Bible says we should pray for all men, however bad they may
be."
"Oh, yes, I know that, Mr. Young; I know it very well. But Auks are
not men, good or bad, - they are dogs."
It was now nearly dark and quite so ere we found a harbor, not far
from the fine Auk Glacier which descends into the narrow channel that
separates Douglas Island from the mainland. Two of the Auks followed
us to our camp after eight o'clock and inquired into our object in
visiting them, that they might carry the news to their chief. One of
the chief's houses is opposite our camp a mile or two distant, and we
concluded to call on him next morning.
I wanted to examine the Auk Glacier in the morning, but tried to be
satisfied with a general view and sketch as we sailed around its wide
fan-shaped front. It is one of the most beautiful of all the coast
glaciers that are in the first stage of decadence. We called on the
Auk chief at daylight, when he was yet in bed, but he arose
goodnaturedly, put on a calico shirt, drew a blanket around his legs,
and comfortably seated himself beside a small fire that gave light
enough to show his features and those of his children and the three
women that one by one came out of the shadows. All listened
attentively to Mr. Young's message of goodwill. The chief was a
serious, sharp-featured, dark-complexioned man, sensible-looking and
with good manners. He was very sorry, he said, that his people had
been drinking in his absence and had used us so ill; he would like to
hear us talk and would call his people together if we would return to
the village. This offer we had to decline. We gave him good words and
tobacco and bade him good-bye.
The scenery all through the channel is magnificent, something like
Yosemite Valley in its lofty avalanche-swept wall cliffs, especially
on the mainland side, which are so steep few trees can find footing.
The lower island side walls are mostly forested. The trees are
heavily draped with lichens, giving the woods a remarkably gray,
ancient look. I noticed a good many two-leafed pines in boggy spots.
The water was smooth, and the reflections of the lofty walls striped
with cascades were charmingly distinct.
It was not easy to keep my crew full of wild flesh. We called at an
Indian summer camp on the mainland about noon, where there were three
very squalid huts crowded and jammed full of flesh of many colors and
smells, among which we discovered a lot of bright fresh trout, lovely
creatures about fifteen inches long, their sides adorned with vivid
red spots. We purchased five of them and a couple of salmon for a box
of gun-caps and a little tobacco. About the middle of the afternoon
we passed through a fleet of icebergs, their number increasing as we
neared the mouth of the Taku Fiord, where we camped, hoping to
explore the fiord and see the glaciers where the bergs, the first we
had seen since leaving Icy Bay, are derived.
We left camp at six o'clock, nearly an hour before daybreak. My
Indians were glad to find the fiord barred by a violent wind, against
which we failed to make any headway; and as it was too late in the
season to wait for better weather, I reluctantly gave up this
promising work for another year, and directed the crew to go straight
ahead down the coast. We sailed across the mouth of the happy inlet
at fine speed, keeping a man at the bow to look out for the smallest
of the bergs, not easily seen in the dim light, and another bailing
the canoe as the tops of some of the white caps broke over us. About
two o'clock we passed a large bay or fiord, out of which a violent
wind was blowing, though the main Stephens Passage was calm. About
dusk, when we were all tired and anxious to get into camp, we reached
the mouth of Sum Dum Bay, but nothing like a safe landing could we
find.
