Alaska Indians
Looking back on my Alaska travels, I have always been glad that good
luck gave me Mr. Young as a companion, for he brought me into
confiding contact with the Thlinkit tribes, so that I learned their
customs, what manner of men they were, how they lived and loved,
fought and played, their morals, religion, hopes and fears, and
superstitions, how they resembled and differed in their
characteristics from our own and other races. It was easy to see that
they differed greatly from the typical American Indian of the
interior of this continent. They were doubtless derived from the
Mongol stock. Their down-slanting oval eyes, wide cheek-bones, and
rather thick, outstanding upper lips at once suggest their connection
with the Chinese or Japanese. I have not seen a single specimen that
looks in the least like the best of the Sioux, or indeed of any of
the tribes to the east of the Rocky Mountains. They also differ from
other North American Indians in being willing to work, when free from
the contamination of bad whites. They manage to feed themselves well,
build good substantial houses, bravely fight their enemies, love
their wives and children and friends, and cherish a quick sense of
honor. The best of them prefer death to dishonor, and sympathize with
their neighbors in their misfortunes and sorrows. Thus when a family
loses a child by death, neighbors visit them to cheer and console.
They gather around the fire and smoke, talk kindly and naturally,
telling the sorrowing parents not to grieve too much, reminding them
of the better lot of their child in another world and of the troubles
and trials the little ones escape by dying young, all this in a
perfectly natural, straightforward way, wholly unlike the vacant,
silent, hesitating behavior of most civilized friends, who oftentimes
in such cases seem nonplussed, awkward, and afraid to speak, however
sympathetic.
The Thlinkits are fond and indulgent parents. In all my travels I
never heard a cross, fault-finding word, or anything like scolding
inflicted on an Indian child, or ever witnessed a single case of
spanking, so common in civilized communities. They consider the want
of a son to bear their name and keep it alive the saddest and most
deplorable ill-fortune imaginable.
The Thlinkit tribes give a hearty welcome to Christian missionaries.
In particular they are quick to accept the doctrine of the atonement,
because they themselves practice it, although to many of the
civilized whites it is a stumbling-block and rock of offense. As an
example of their own doctrine of atonement they told Mr. Young and me
one evening that twenty or thirty years ago there was a bitter war
between their own and the Sitka tribe, great fighters, and pretty
evenly matched. After fighting all summer in a desultory, squabbling
way, fighting now under cover, now in the open, watching for every
chance for a shot, none of the women dared venture to the
salmon-streams or berry-fields to procure their winter stock of
food. At this crisis one of the Stickeen chiefs came out of his
block-house fort into an open space midway between their fortified
camps, and shouted that he wished to speak to the leader of the
Sitkas.
When the Sitka chief appeared he said: -
"My people are hungry. They dare not go to the salmon-streams or
berry-fields for winter supplies, and if this war goes on much longer
most of my people will die of hunger. We have fought long enough; let
us make peace. You brave Sitka warriors go home, and we will go home,
and we will all set out to dry salmon and berries before it is too
late."
The Sitka chief replied: -
"You may well say let us stop fighting, when you have had the best of
it. You have killed ten more of my tribe than we have killed of
yours. Give us ten Stickeen men to balance our blood-account; then,
and not till then, will we make peace and go home."
"Very well," replied the Stickeen chief, "you know my rank. You know
that I am worth ten common men and more. Take me and make peace."
This noble offer was promptly accepted; the Stickeen chief stepped
forward and was shot down in sight of the fighting bands. Peace was
thus established, and all made haste to their homes and ordinary
work. That chief literally gave himself a sacrifice for his people.
He died that they might live. Therefore, when missionaries preached
the doctrine of atonement, explaining that when all mankind had gone
astray, had broken God's laws and deserved to die, God's son came
forward, and, like the Stickeen chief, offered himself as a sacrifice
to heal the cause of God's wrath and set all the people of the world
free, the doctrine was readily accepted.
"Yes, your words are good," they said. "The Son of God, the Chief of
chiefs, the Maker of all the world, must be worth more than all
mankind put together; therefore, when His blood was shed, the
salvation of the world was made sure."
A telling illustration of the ready acceptance of this doctrine was
displayed by Shakes, head chief of the Stickeens at Fort Wrangell. A
few years before my first visit to the Territory, when the first
missionary arrived, he requested Shakes to call his people together
to hear the good word he had brought them. Shakes accordingly sent
out messengers throughout the village, telling his people to wash
their faces, put on their best clothing, and come to his block-house
to hear what their visitor had to say. When all were assembled, the
missionary preached a Christian sermon on the fall of man and the
atonement whereby Christ, the Son of God, the Chief of chiefs, had
redeemed all mankind, provided that this redemption was voluntarily
accepted with repentance of their sins and the keeping of his
commandments.
