Under Mount Saint Elias: The History and Culture of the Yakutat Thngit Frederica de Laguna PART TWO SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 [In Three Parts] PART TWO SERIAL PUBLICATIONS OF THE SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION The emphasis upon publications as a. means of diffusing knowledge was expressed by the first Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution. In his formal plan for the Insti- tution, Joseph Henry articulated a program that included the following statement: "It is proposed to publish a series of reports, giving an account of the new discoveries in science, and of the changes made from year to year in all branches of knowledge." This keynote of basic research has" been adhered to over the years in the issuance of thousands of titles in serial publications under the Smithsonian imprint, com- mencing with Smithsonian Contributions to Knowledge in 1848 and continuing with the following active series: Smithsonian Annals of Flight Smithsonian Contributions to Anthropology Smithsonian Contributions to Astrophysics Smithsonian Contributions to .Botany Smithsonian Contributions to the Earth Sciences Smithsonian Contributions to Paleobiology Smithsonian Contributions to Zoology Smithsonian Studies in History and Technology In, these series, the Institution publishes original articles and monographs dealing with the research and collections of its several museums and offices and of professional colleagues at, other institutions of learning. These papers report newly acquired facts, synoptic interpretations of data, or original theory in specialized fields. These pub- lications are distributed by mailing lists to libraries, laboratories, and other interested institutions and specialists throughout the world. Individual copies may be obtained from the Smithsonian Institution Press as long as stocks are available. S. DILLON RIPLEY Secretary Smithsonian Institution Under Mount Saint Elias: The History and Culture of the Yakutat Thngit Frederica de Laguna PART TWO SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION PRESS City of Washington 1972 A Publication of the SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION National Museum of Natural History LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CARD 77-185631 UNITED STATES GOVERNMENT PRINTING OFFICE, WASHINGTON : 1972 For sale by the Superintendent of Documents, U.S. Government Printing Office Washington, D.C. 20402 - Price $16.50 per 3 part set. Sold in sets only. Contents Part 1 To THE PEOPLE OF YAKUTAT v PREFACE ix INTRODUCTION 3 Basic assumptions and aims 4 Conduct of the fieldwork 8 Transcription of native words 11 THE LAND AND ITS PEOPLE 13 Introduction to Yakutat 15 The Tlingit world 15 The Gulf Coast of Alaska 16 The Gulf Coast tribes 17 Ecology of the Yakutat Bay area 21 Geography and geology 21 Geological changes 24 Climate 29 Flora 30 M ammals 35 Amphibia 41 Birds 42 Fish 50 Marine invertebrates and seaweed 55 Insects 56 THE HOMELAND OF THE YAKUTAT TLINGIT 57 Yakutat Bay 58 The west side of Yakutat Bay 59 The east side of Yakutat Bay 61 Disenchantment Bay and Russell Fiord 67 Yakutat Bay to Dry Bay 71 The Ankau lagoon system 73 Lost River to Italtio River 76 The Dry Bay area 81 The Alsek River 85 Cape Fairweather and Lituya Bay 90 The gulf coast west of Yakutat Bay 95 Icy Bay 95 Icy Bay to Copper River 98 XXX SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 Page THROUGH ALIEN EYES: A HISTORY OF YAKUTAT 107 Eighteenth-century exploration 108 The first explorers (1741-83) 108 Zaikov and other Russian expeditions to the mainland, (1783-88) 112 LaPerouse (1786) 11^ Dixon (1787) 123 Colnett (1788) 1^8 Ismailov and Bocharov (1788) l^^ Douglas (1788) 138 Malaspina (1791) 139 Vancouver (1794) 153 The Russians 1^^ Shelikhov's "Glory of Russia," and Baranov (1792-93)_. 158 Purtov and Kulikalov (1794) 161 "Novo Rossiysk" (1795-1801) 166 Revolt of the Tlingit: Sitka (1802-04) 170 Revolt of the Tlingit: Yakutat (1805-06) 173 Yakutat (1806-67) 176 Under the American flag 180 The first years (1867-80) 180 The first surveys (1880-84) 184 Schwatka and Seton-Karr (1886) 187 Topham (1888) 194 Miners, missionaries, and the U.S.S. Rush (1888-90) 197 The conquest of Mount Saint Elias and the end of an era (1890-1900) 201 MYTH, LEGEND AND MEMORY: THE NATIVE HISTORIES OF YAKUTAT 209 Setting the stage 210 Myth and history 210 Tribe and sib 211 Foreign peoples 213 Sibs among the Gulf of Alaska peoples, or important to their history 217 Historical narratives 230 Introduction 230 The history of Yakutat 231 Other versions of the K^'ackqwan migration story 236 Further tales about Knight Island and Xatgawet 242 The story of the CAnkuqedi 248 The story of the Teqwedi 251 The story of the Galyix-Kagwantan 254 Wars with the Aleuts 256 The first ship at Lituya Bay 258 The defeat of the Russians 259 War between the Tl'uknaxAdi and the Tlaxayik-Teqwedi 261 The story of Gusex and the fate of the Dry Bay people 270 Smallpox 277 The war between the Kagwantan and the C^Atqwan 279 An averted war between the Tsimshian 284 Geological changes in the Yakutat area 286 History of the Frog House: trouble between the Tl'uknaxAdi and the KiksAdi at Sitka 288 YAKUTAT HOUSES 293 Aboriginal dwellings and other structures 294 Meaning of the house 294 The aboriginal wiater house 295 IN THREE PARTS CONTENTS Y^'AKUTAT HOUSES—Continued Aboriginal dwellings and other structures—Continued Page Three old houses 300 Smokehouses 302 Camps 304 Caches 305 Bathouses 305 House furnishings 306 Domestic life 309 Camps and houses in the 18th century 310 Houses in Lituya Bay, 1786 310 Houses m Yakutat Bay, 1787, 1788 311 Houses in Yakutat Bay, 1791 311 Houses and camps in the 19th century 313 Houses on Khantaak Island, 1886-90 313 Eyak Houses at Kayak, Controller Bay, 1886 313 Bark shelters. Disenchantment Bay, 1899 314 History of Yakutat houses 315 Tcicqedi and Qalyix-Kagwantan houses west of Cape Yakataga 315 Ejiight Island houses 316 Nessudat houses 316 Diyaguna'Et houses 316 Ahrnklin River houses 317 Tl'uknaxAdi houses on Johnson Slough 317 Dry Bay houses 318 Khantaak Island houses 319 Situk houses 320 Houses in the Old Village 321 Yakutat: the present town 326 The future 327 TRAVEL AND TRADE 329 Canoes 330 Introduction 330 Skin boats 330 Dugouts of the 18th century 332 Modern Yakutat dugouts 335 Snowshoes and sleds 345 Trade 346 Introduction 346 Travel and trade with the west 348 Travel and trade with the kiterior 350 Travel and trade with the south 351 Values in exchange 352 Coppers 353 Trade etiquette 354 Motives for travel and trade 356 MAKING A LIVING 359 Hunting and fishing 360 The annual cycle 360 Control of territories 361 Religious aspects 361 Land mammals 364 Weapons 367 Traps and snares 370 xxxii SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 MAKING A LIVING—Continued Himting and fishing—Continued ^^^^ Sea mammals Fishing ^^^ Food and its preparation Introduction ^^^ Food iu the 18th and 19th centuries 393 Meat of land animals '^^'* Bu'ds and bii'ds' eggs ^95 Seal meat ^^5 Meat of other sea mammals 398 Fish 399 "Beach food" 403 Plant food 405 Some native recipes for modern foods 410 Tobacco and intoxicants 410 Native manufactures 412 Raw materials 412 Men's tools 413 Domestic utensils 416 Wooden boxes -- 419 Pottery 420 Women's tools 421 Skin dressing and sewing 423 Skin contamers 426 Matting and cordage 427 Baskets 427 Chilkat blankets 431 Dress and decoration 432 Aboriginal clothing 432 Dress at Yakutat 435 Ceremonial costumes 439 Personal adornment and grooming 444 THE SOCIAL WORLD 449 Sibs and crests 450 Sib and moiety 450 Sib individuality 451 Yakutat crests 452 0\\Tiership of crests 453 Types of crests 455 Validation of crests 457 Alienation of crests and crest objects 458 Sib characteristics 461 Social position 461 Ai'istocrats and commoners 461 Slaves 469 Chiefs and slaves in the 18th century 474 Kinship 475 The basic terms 475 Grandparents and grandchildren 476 Parents and children, father's brother and mother's sister 478 Maternal uncles and their sister's children 479 Paternal aunts and their brother's children 481 Brothers and sisters 482 Sib-chUdren 48 5 IN THREE PARTS CONTENTS xxxiii THE SOCIAL WORLD—Continued KINSHIP—Continued page Husbands and wives 488 Mothers-in-law and fathers-in-law 492 Brothers-in-law and sisters-in-law 494 THE LIFE CYCLE 497 Birth 498 Introduction 498 Personal characteristics believed determined at birth 499 Pregnancy 500 Childbu-th 500 Infancy 502 Care of the baby 502 Magic for babies 506 Childhood 507 Small children 507 Discipline 508 Education 512 Food Taboos 514 Children's games and toys 515 Growing up 516 Training of boys 516 Adolescent girls 518 Premarital sex knowledge and illegitimate babies 523 Maturity 524 The missionary's views on marriage at Y'akutat 524 Marriage 524 Adult life 527 Old age 529 Death 531 Death ceremonies 531 The corpse 532 The smoking feast 533 Cremation 534 The mourners 536 The end of mourning 538 Graves in the 18th century 539 Graves of the lat e 19th century and modern times 542 Modern funerals 545 Part 2 RECREATION AND ART: GAMES AND MUSIC 551 Introduction 552 Games 553 GambUng games 553 Stick drawing game 554 Hand game or "stick game" 555 Chair dice 555 Stick tossing game 556 Quoits 556 Chess and checkers 557 Bingo 557 265-517—72—vol. VII, pt. 2 2 xxxiv SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 RECREATION AND ART: GAMES AND MUSIC—Continued Games—Continued P»^« Tops 558 Contests 558 Fourth of July canoe races 559 Cat's cradles 559 Music 560 Songs 560 18th-century singing 561 Recording Yakutat songs 564 Character of Thngit songs 565 Dancing 567 Categories of songs 568 Poetic imagery in songs 572 Acquiring and composing songs 574 WAR AND PEACE 579 War 580 Types of wars 580 Major wars and military alliances 580 Causes for war 581 Preparations for war 582 The war party 583 Victory and defeat 584 Arms and armor 585 The warrior and his accouterments 585 Weapons 588 The warrior's costume 590 Peace and justice 592 The meaning of peace 592 Preliminaries to the peace ceremony 593 Restitution and retribution: evening the score 594 The peace ceremony: seizing the 'deer' 596 The peace ceremony: the role of the 'deer' 598 The peace ceremony: naming and dressing the 'deer' 599 The peace ceremony: eight nights dancing 601 The end of the peace ceremony 602 Summary of known peace ceremonies 603 THE POTLATCH 605 Introduction 606 The Yakutat conception of the potlatch 606 Functions of the potlatch 606 Types of potlatch 607 PreUminary feasts 608 The major potlatch 610 Summary _ g^Q Purposes of the potlatch 611 Rivalry at the potlatch 613 Beginning the potlatch 616 Preparations 616 Arrival of the guests 619 Entertainment at the potlatch 623 Feasts before the potlatch 623 Singing and dancing by the guests 624 IN THREE PARTS CONTENTS THE POTLATCH—Continued Entertainment at the potlatch—Continued page Feasting 627 Special shows by the hosts 627 The potlatch proper 629 The hosts 629 Honoring individuals 634 Paying the guests 638 Feasting and dancing after the potlatch 642 "Potlatches" for insults or to shame a rival 643 Reports of potlatches 644 The TluknaxAdi potlatch in Dry Bay, 1909 644 The Teqwedi potlatch in Yakutat, 1910 646 A missionary's account of Yakutat potlatches 650 A layman's comments on a potlatch 651 CURES, MEDICINES AND AMULETS 653 Surgical techniques 655 Medicinal plants 655 Medicines for external use 655 Medicines for internal use 657 Medicines with great power 657 Magical plants and amulets 659 Other amulets 664 The land otter hair amulet 667 SHAMANISM 669 Introduction 670 The shaman 670 KJQown shamans 671 Becoming a shaman 673 The death of a shaman and the new shaman 673 Receiving the call 675 The quest 676 Cutting tongues 678 Subsequent retreats and the first seance 681 The shaman's spirits 682 The shaman and his paraphernaha 683 Regimen 683 Personal appearance 684 The shaman's "outfit" 685 Costume 687 Masks, maskettes and headdresses 690 Other paraphernaha 695 Spirit intrusions 699 The shaman and his powers 701 Introduction 701 The shaman's assistants 702 Inspiration 702 Spirit warnings 703 Sending the spirit for news 703 Ghostly visits 704 Power demonstrations 704 Rivahy 706 Curing the sick 708 Minor ailments 709 Epidemics 710 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 SHAMANISM—Continued ^*^ Stories about shamans '^^ Xatgawet as shaman How a man acquired land otter spirits 712 How a man acquired disease spirits ' ^- Daxodzu, the female shaman ' ^-' How QAlaxett became a shaman 713 The female shaman, Cak'^e, and the chief who stabbed his nephews 714 How a Wrangell shaman was defeated 715 Further reminiscences of Tek-'ic '15 Rufusing the call ^^^ A young man refuses to become a shaman 719 A woman refuses the caU '20 White men's views of Yakutat shamanism 720 A Y'akutat shaman, 1886 720 A missionary's account of Y'akutat shamanism 722 The shamanistic legacy '^^ "The Shouters" in Alaska (1890) 724 Native Accounts of the "shouters" 725 WITCHES AND LAND OTTER MEN 727 Witchcraft 728 Witches 728 Activities of witches 730 Origin of witches 733 Identifying the witch and destroying his power 735 Witchcraft stories 738 The girl who witched herself 738 Haida methods: the woman who witched her own son 739 The witching of ^adanek and his relatives 739 The witching of Sitka Ned 740 The witching of Jack Peterson 743 Witchcraft accusations 743 Land Otter men 744 Fear of land otters 744 Captm'e by land otters and protection from them 745 Land otter men 747 Present beliefs about land otters 748 Stories about land otter men 749 The story of QakA 749 The girls who had land otter men as lovers 750 Two little boys rescued from the land otter people 751 A boy rescued from land otters 752 N^xmtek rescued from land otters 752 LdaxEn and the land otters 753 The disowned woman 754 A girl captured by land otters 754 Small boys saved by dogs 755 Two boys lost in the woods 755 Adventures of White men with land otter men 755 THE TLINGIT INDIVIDUAL 757 The body 758 Sleep and dreams 759 Body parts and functions 760 Symbolism of the body in art and language 761 Reified body parts and functions _. 763 IN THREE P.\RTS CONTENTS THE TLINGIT INDIVIDUAL—Contuiued The body—Continued Page The tree of life 764 Afterlife and the spirit 765 The "soul" and the "ghost" 765 Forms of death 766 The story of 'Askadut who visited the land of the dead 767 The disease boat 769 Afterlife in Kiwa'a 770 "Dog Heaven" 771 Visits to the land of the dead 772 The Chilkat man who visited Kiwa'a 772 The man who visited Kiwa'a 773 Death and reiQcarnation of Qawusa 773 Death and reincarnation of 'AsdjiwAn and his partner 774 Reiucarnation of Joseph 775 The story of Lxakunik who visited the land of the dead 775 Reincarnation 776 Insuring reincarnation 777 Choosing one's parents 778 Choosing one's sex 779 Multiple souls 779 Rebirth in the wrong sib 780 Names 781 Real names 781 Naming the child 782 Namesakes 783 Teknonymy 784 "Big names" 785 Pet names and nicknames 787 Origin of names 787 Conclusion: personal identity 788 MAN AND THE FORCES OF NATURE 791 Cosmology 792 The earth 792 The sky 795 Sun, moon, and stars 796 Space and time 797 Spatial orientation and measurement 797 Temporal orientation 798 Divisions of the year 799 Counting days 801 Divisions of the day 801 The weather 803 Predicting the weather 803 Animals associated with the weather 804 The wmds 804 Weather taboos 805 Bringing fair weather 806 Divination 807 The forces of nature 80S A statement of problems 808 18th-century observations 809 Swanton's contribution 810 The Spirit Above 812 xxxvm SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY voLUiME 7 MAN AND THE FORCES OF NATURE—Continued The forces of nature—Contuiued ^*^® Fate, moral law, taboo, and luck 813 God 815 Spirits and beings in the world 816 Monsters and wealth-bringiag beings 820 Manufactured objects 822 Plants 822 The world of anunals 8-^3 Animal souls 823 Attitudes toward animals 824 Totem animal and other animals 825 Dogs 832 Conclusion: the ordering of the world 833 Totemism 833 The world of spirits 835 MYTHS AND TALES 837 Introduction 838 The Raven Cycle 839 Three connected versions of the Raven Cycle 844 Isolated incidents of the Raven Cycle 857 Other Myths and tales 873 The children of the sun 873 The story of Lg'ayak'^ 875 The story of Kats who married a bear 879 The story of the woman who married a bear 880 The story of the woman who married a bear and comments on the story of Kat^ 882 The story of the woman who raised the worm 883 The man who married Fair Weather's daughter 883 The story of Tl'EnAxxid^q 884 Stories about hemlock child and spruce root child 885 The story of the blind man and the loon 888 The story of salmon boy 889 The story of black skin 890 Wolverine man 892 The story of the girls who stole mountain goat tallow 892 The story of the girl who turned into an owl 893 The braggart gambler 894 Legend of glaciers at Yakutat 894 The moral of Chief Shakes 894 The lying and truthful brothers in Sitka 895 Stories about a transvestite 895 The visitor to Yakutat 897 The race between the fox and the crab 897 A story about the big-breasted woman 897 The land otter's halibut hook 897 About the land far out to sea 898 The story of a Copper River potlatch 898 The discovery of copper 890 The true story of the discovery of gold 900 LITERATURE CITED 903 IN THREE PARTS CONTENTS FIGURES Page 1. Mount Saint EUas 22 2. Mount Fairweather 23 3. Lituya Bay 25 4. A native chief and woman of Port Mulgrave, 1843 178 5. "Princess Thom" 192 6. Eagle Fort 264 7. Spearhead and log 265 8. Front of Bear House 295 9. Aboriginal winter house, Yakutat 296 10. Bear Paw House, Lost River Landing 299 11. Beaver House, Kahhak River, detail of roof 300 12. Winter house 300 13. Diagram of Kagwantan Box House, Dry Bay, 1903-07 301 14. Diagram of the Teqwedi Bear House, Khantaak Island, 1886 301 15. Diagram of the Teqwedi Coward House, Situk, 1888 302 16. Diagram of the Teqwedi Coward House, Situk, 1885 302 17. Smokehouse, 1949 303 18. Smokehouse, 1949 304 19. Smokehouse 304 20. Smokehouse 304 21. Log cabin 305 22. "Prunitive bark shelter, Yakutat Bay" 314 23. Yakutat dug-out canoe and two-hole baidarka, 1791 334 24. Boats at Nuchek, Prince William Sound, 1887 335 25. Yakutat canoe and paddles, 1788 335 26. Yakutat canoes 336 27. "Yakutat sealing canoe," 1899 339 28. Modern Yakutat "canoe" 345 29. Traditional shape of the copper 354 30. Bow and arrow 368 31. Arrowheads 369 32. Figure-four trap for weasels 370 33. Deadfall for fox, lynx, and wolverine 371 34. Snare for foxes 371 35. Snare for foxes 372 36. Snare for bear 372 37. Snare for brown bear 372 38. Snare for bear 372 39. Harpoon for seals, sea otter, and fish 377 40. Flattened butt of seal harpoon shaft 377 41. Iron harpoon heads 385 42. Fish spearing device 385 43. Oelachon trap 387 44. Halibut hooks 389 45. Halibut hook 390 46. "Flensing seal hide, Yakutat Bay," 1899 396 47. Method of cutting salmon for drying 400 48. Bundle of dried fish tied up for storage 401 10. xl SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 Page 49. Hand hammers or pestles 417 50. Ulos 421 51. Curved iron scraper 422 52. Halibut skin bag 426 53. Spruce root rainbat and gutskui rain shirt 436 54. Patterns for beaded moccasin tops 438 55. Tluk^axAdi man's dance shirt 440 56. Button blankets 442 57. Headdress 443 58. Face stamps 447 59. Baby carrier 503 60. Baby hammock 504 61. Tlingit child in hammock 505 62. Chair die 556 63. Carved wooden chessmen 557 64. Tlingit song recorded in Lituya Bay, 1786 560 65. Song recorded in Sitka Sound, 1787 562 66. Metal daggers from Port Mulgrave 586 67. War pick 588 68. Design for war bonnet 591 69. Face painting for peace hostages 600 70. Positions of hosts and guests at K'^aclsqwan potlatch 625 71. Positions of hosts and guests at Teqwedi potlatch 631 72. Shaman's headdress and false beard 694 73. Shaman's false beard and headdress as worn 695 74. Shaman's prophetic bone 697 MAPS 1. The Yakutat Tlingit and their neighbors 14 2. The Gulf Coast of Alaska facing 17 3. Ice fronts and coastline, A.D. 600-1290 26 4. Ice fronts and coast Ime, A.D. 1700-1791 26 5. Hypothetical extension of glaciers during ice-flood stage 27 6. Yakutat Bay facing 59 7. Southeastern shore of Yakutat Bay 60 8. Yakutat Harbor facing 63 9. Yakutat Bay to the Alsek River 72 10. Monti Bay to Black Sand Island 73 11. Yakutat to the Alsek River Delta facino' 79 12. The Alsek River ^ 88 13. Dry Bay to Cross Sound facing 91 14. Lituya Bay 92 15. The Mount Saint EKas Region 96 16. Malespina Glacier to Cape Suckhng facing 99 17. Controller Bay facing 101 18. Lituya Bay, from LaPerouse ng 19. Port Mulgrave as surveyed by Dixon 124 20. Route of Malaspina's explorations, 1791 140 21. Port Mulgrave as surveyed by Malaspina 142 10. IN THREE PARTS CONTENTS xli Page 22. Disenchantment Bay as surveyed by Malaspina 148 23. Yakutat Bay to Lituya Bay, 1849 160 24. Y^akutat Bay to Cape Suckling, 1849 162 25. Y^akutatBay, 1849 168 26. LituyaBay, 1849 179 Part 3 PLATES (listed on page 915) 918 APPENDIX (song titles listed on page xlvii) 1149 Index of Y^akutat Tape Recordings 1370 INDEX 1375 Under Mount Saint Elias: The History and Culture of the Yakutat Tlingit PART TWO Recreation and Art: Games and Music INTRODUCTION The pleasures of the Yakutat people consisted, and to a large measure stiU consist, of social gatherings. Many of these are informal, as when friends visit each other or stop to chat and gossip. The visits of relatives from another town, or trips to see them, are especially welcome for they permit renewal of family ties, giving and receiving gifts, feasting and drinking, learning new songs, story-teUing, and exchanging news—what one informant called "chewing the rag." Such visits might be short or long. Although the oldtime houses tradi- tionally had extra rooms for guests, well-bred persons were careful not to trespass too long on the hospitality of their hosts. Often the gifts brought by the visitors offset the costs of their entertainment. The occasions for such visits were formerly trading expeditions or the annual gatherings at the sealing camps in Disen- chantment Bay. Now trips to Juneau on business or for medical and dental treatment, or to attend the annual meetings of the Grand Camp of the AISB and ANS serve somewhat similar purposes. Naturally, giving and attending potlatches formed and stUl form social occasions of the greatest importance. At home, wakes and funerals, weddings, christenings, church and school functions of various kinds, the community picnic after graduation, the Memorial Day visit to the cemetery, basketball games, Saturday night dances, Bingo games or special shows in the ANB Hall, movies at the school or at the Coast Guard Base, are occasions that offer serious, exciting, or amusing entertainment for everyone. Small groups of friends and relatives enjoy ex- peditions together, for example to Haenke Island to gather seagull eggs, shoot seals, look at the scenery, picnic on the beach, and perhaps camp overnight. Or, a party may go to Point Manby to pick straw- berries and perhaps to hunt bears. Many oldtime subsistence activities are now carried out by small parties as recreation: gathering shellfish or seaweed at low tide, picking berries, going hunting. Families still look forward eagerly to the first camping trip up the bay in the spring. The escape from the cramped houses of winter into the open air, and above all, the sight of the open bay, islands, streams, forests, and glorious snowy peaks are important sources of pleasure. Singing and song composition have always been stressed at Yakutat. Now, depending on the occasion, people may sing the old potlatch songs, or newer compositions in Tlingit that deal with love, with hurt feeliDgs, with loneliness, or mourning. These may bring memories of the dead, so that often the singers are overcome by tears. However, many enjoy a good cry, and this was evidently true in the past also. Singing is particularly associated with liquor; many native songs refer to the enjoyment of drinking, and singing usually occurs at drinking parties. Some men do not want to sing unless they feel a little warmed by beer or whiskey, and if some people start to sing they are likely to drink. Suiging was also associated with gambling in the past but, as far as I know, poker and Bingo are played without accompaniment. The Yakutat people like to sing hymns in church, for a number of which there are Tlingit verses. Modern popular songs are also enjoyed, and many families have phonographs or radios. Some also listen to the news on the radio; fewer like to read books and maga- zines, although "comiic books" are appreciated by youths. In addition to the types of recreation mentioned above, and to children's games and toys (see pp. 515- 516), traditional Yakutat games were primarily contests involving skiU, quickness of eye and dexterity of hand, sometimes strength, and also "luck" or chance. These were games on which two or more opponents gambled with passionate enthusiasm. The decorative arts, carving, painting, and the weav- ing of blankets and baskets, also gave pleasure. I wiU not attempt to discuss these; the examples illustrated must speak for themselves. There were few persons at Yakutat when I was there who were skilled in the old crafts and these arts were then all but dead. Boas, Emmons, Paul, and most recently Hohn, have discussed the aesthetic and symbolic qualities of Tliagit repre- sentational art and basketry designs so fully that I cannot hope to make any additional contribution now. 552 IN THREE PARTS RECREATION AND ART 553 GAMES Gambling Games The most important games involved gambhng or betting ('Alqa). "You have to bet just hke you bet in poker. Put one out. Somebody put out something; then you put some more on the top. Something like a pot- latch. They dance and sing [while they play]." Some of the games played at Yakutat were like those of the Thngit of southeastern Alaska or other North- west Coast tribes. In some cases, the Yakutat rules appear unique, although this may reflect misunder- standing of informants' explanations. Gambling appears in Tlingit mythology. For example, the origin of the Gxrnaqadet, the wealth-bringing under- water monster, is ascribed in one story (Swanton, 1909, Tale 33) to a formerly lazy man, "fond only of gam- bling," who later reformed, but was killed when he tried to meet the exorbitant expectations of his nagging mother-in-law. The supernatiual 'Master of Gambling' ('Alqa sati), or "greatest gambler," appears in another story (Swanton, 1909, Tale 31, pp. 135-139) to bless QouAlgi'c, an unlucky gambler, who then takes his revenge on the chief who had previously won everything from him. The story is told so as to stress the theme of moderation and of pity toward the loser. Swanton (ibid., p. 138, n. a) believes that this reflects missionary teaching, but the particular virtues seem consonant with what I feel were aboriginal. Thus, the lucky gam- bler is careful to stop each day when he is well ahead and when he wins the chief's nephews, his wife, and the chief himself as slaves, he gives them their freedom. The story is regarded as a warning to high-class people not to gamble, and especially not to go crazy over the game. QonAtgl'c is supposed to have named the various sticks used in the Stick Drawing Game (see pp. 554-555). According to the story, gamblers can tell from the movement of the sticks what animals they will kiQ on the hunt, and whether there is to be a death in the family. People who cheat, according to the narrator, have sticks that fly invisibly, as did those of QonAlgi'c. Although I did not hear a version of this story at Yakutat, its warning against overdoing is similar to that in the Yakutat story of the Braggart Gambler (p. 894). In the latter case, the moral is against boasting of one's wealth. It was probably the Stick Drawing Game that LaPerouse, Dixon, and Surfa saw being played at Lituya Bay and Port Mulgrave. The story of QonAlgi'c is of particular interest in confirming Suria's conclusion that a man could wager himseK, becoming a slave of the winner. We also find some corroboration in Krause (1956, p. 133): "According to Liitke [1827, Sitka] the Tlingit are such desperate gamblers that they will bet their clothes, furs, guns, slaves, even their wives. In addition to the stick game [cf. below p. 555], in more recent times common playing cards are being used in gambling games which they have learned from the whites." LITUYA BAT, 1786 LaPerouse beheved that gambling was the major cause of the quarrels he observed between the Indians at Lituya Bay. "Of the passion of these Indians for gaming I have spoken above [quoted, p. 122]. The kind to which they are addicted is altogether a game of chance. They have thirty Httle sticks, each marked with a different number. [Footnote by the translator: " 'Differently marked like our dice,' in the original. But this cannot be, because our dice are all marked in the same manner. 'Like the different sides of our dice,' is probably the meaning of the author. T."] Seven of these they hide. Each plays in turn, and he who guesses nearest to the number on the seven sticks, gains the stake, which is commonly a piece of iron, or a hatchet. This game renders them grave and melancholy.' " [LaPerouse, 1799, vol. 1, p. 408.] YAKUTAT 1787 The Yakutat Indians were also fond of gambling. Although writing about the Northwest Coast Indians in general (that is, about those encountered at Yaku- tat, Sitka, and Nootka Sound), Beresford observes: "Though these poor savages are in their general manners truly in a state of uncultivated barbarism, yet in one instance they can boast of a refinement equal to that of more poUte nations, and that is gaming, which is carried on here to as great a pitch (comparatively speaking) as at any of our moderate fashionable clubs. The only gambling implements I saw, were fifty-two small round bits of wood, about the size of your middle finger, and differently marked with red paint. A game is played by two persons with these pieces of wood, and chiefly con- sists in placing them in a variety of positions, but I am unable to describe it minutely. The man whom I before mentioned our having on board at Port 554 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 Mulgrave [see p. 126], lost a knife, a spear, and several toes [adz blades] at this game in less than an hour: though this loss was at least equal to an English gamester losing his estate [!], yet the poor fellow bore his ill-fortune with great patience and equanimity of temper." [Beresford, 1789, p. 245.] In this last respect, the natives of Port MulgTave seemingly showed better sportsmanship than those of Lituya Bay. YAKUTAT 1791 Suria describes the "stick game" as played at Port Mulgrave. According to a footnote supplied by W. A. Newcombe, of Victoria, B.C., this is exactly the same game as that seen by LaPerouse and Dison, even though the descriptions vary. "The sticks are from four to five inches long and vary in thickness from that of the average pencil to the average little finger. The number of sticks in a bundle appears to have been immaterial, any- where from 20 to 70. ... It is a guessing game to locate certain 'marked' sticks in the bundle." [Wagner, 1936, p. 257, n. 36.] "They gamble with some little sticks, about eight or nine fingers long, and a finger in thickness, very weU made. They count up to fifty with various signs, which differ one from the other. They shufiie them and then stretch one or two on the ground. From what we could make out the companion [opponent?] must pick out from these two [bundles in which the sticks are hidden?] the one which has been hidden by the one doing the shuffling, which he recognizes by signs. If he succeeds the little sticks pass to his companion and if not the same man continues the same shuffling. There is suffi- cient reason for thinking that with this game they put up their persons and whoever loses has to be at the disposition of the other, because one of our sailors went to play with one of them, and having lost as usual, because he did not know the game, the Indian became very contented and made a sign to the sailor to embark in his canoe, because he was now his, and on being resisted the Indian insisted, indicating by signs that he had won." [Ibid., pp. 256-257.] Stick Drawing Game The Stick Dramng Game was called cict, according to JR, who said the word sounded Russian to him. According to Swanton, (1908, p. 443), cIs was the name of a stick game played by the Tlingit, Haida, and Tsimshian, while the sticks were called cIct, and the scoring one was the 'devilfish' (naq). All of these sticks were, however, elaborately decorated. The rules described by Swanton were rather different from those given by JR, although the latter had originally come from Sitka to Yakutat. Quite possibly I did not understand him correctly. According to the latter, the game required "an expensive outfit" (cf. the elaborately carved sticks collected by Emmons and fisted by Swanton, 1908, p. 444). JR said there were sets of sticks—10 or20(?)— made of hard red alderwood. The ends were carved to represent various animals: bear, caribou, rabbit, eagle, goose, and devilfish. The last is the "high one," but how, or why, he could not explain. These sticks were about 5 inches long. In addition, there was a skin, 9 inches wde and 5 feet long, fringed along the edges and across the ends, "hke a scarf or necktie," made of caribou, deer, or sealskin. They get an honest man as dealer, and he does not change unless the players so \vish. Anyone can play, even strangers. There are lots of people playing and betting. The dealer takes the sticks and shuffles them inside or under a pile of shredded cedar bark (tcukAu). Then he rolls them up inside the "scarf." The players bet on which stick WTII be drawn out first from the skin. The dealer pulls them out by the end. Each person will choose a different stick to bet on. They used to wager a sea otter skin. They mil call out their stick, such as 'bear stick' (xuts cict), or 'devilfish stick' (naq^ cict), singing and drumming for that one to be pulled out first. (It is not clear from JR's explanation whether individual players bet against each other as to whose stick will be drawn first, or whether the mnner takes all the stakes.) They do not play this every night, nor all night, we were told—^maybe in the full moon one month, and the next month in the last quarter, or at full moon. According to Swanton (1908, p. 443), there w^ere only two players to the game, who alternated in shuffling and hiding the "devilfish" and two nonscoring sticks in two piles of shredded cedar bark. The opponent had to guess which pile held the "devilfish" stick. If he missed, the dealer continued through 10 or 18 wrong guesses, depending on the particular form of the rules that had been agreed upon, and then three piles of shredded cedar bark were made for each try, and the guesser could choose two of the three. Whenever he correctly chose the pile ^vith the "devilfish," it was his turn to shuffle and hide the stick. Men usually had many sets of sticks, sometimes up to 180 pieces, so that they could try to change their luck by playing with different sticks. This is the game ascribed to QonAlgi'c, whose name is said to be Haida (Swanton, 1909, Tale 31, pp. 135- IN THREE PARTS RECREATION AND ART 555 139), and this suggests a southern origin for the game. A Dry Bay woman described her father's gambling sticks as "just big enough to go across a man's hand. There are 12, I guess, Hke little totem poles. They call gambhng sticks 'Alqa. They don't use it in Dry Bay, you know; only over here [Yakutat] they use it. They're just going to dance when the Qunana come to Dry Bay, not gamble." Presumably these were decorated sticks for the Stick Drawing Game. Professor Libbey collected at Yakutat in 1886 a skin pouch with a long flap closed by a cord and a flat T-shaped toggle, which contained 36 very nicely made wooden sticks (pi. 138). These were about 5 inches long and ^2 inch in diameter, each marked individually with encircling fines of now faded paint. About seven were inlayed mth small rectangular pieces of abalone shell or tiny beads. This was un- doubtedly an outfit of gambling sticks, although I cannot be certain for what game it was used. The form and markings of the sticks suggest those seen by LaPerouse, Beresford, and Surfa. Cuhn (1907, pp. 243-246, pi. iv) describes and iUustrates several Tlingit sets of sticks for this game ("Stick Game"). Hand Game or "Stick Game" The Yakutat Tlingit also played the Hand Game. Although I did not learn its specific name, Swanton (1908, p. 44) reports that it was called nahe'n, after one of the two sticks which are used. Nahe'n is plain; naga'n, the other, is marked. The game is played by two teams, although according to Swanton only one man in each manipulates the sticks or tries to guess in which hand his opponent has hidden the marked one. A correct guess means gaining one counter, a mistake means losing one. AU the coimters must be taken in order to win the game and all that has been wagered. The stakes are apparently very high, but Swanton does not make clear whether each member of a team bets against his personal opposite. It is possible that this was the game seen by Surfa at Yakutat and not the Stick Drawing Game, as suggested above. A Yakutat informant said that when he was a boy the "Washington Indias" or "Flatheads" used to come to Yakutat in a schooner to hunt sea otter (p. 352). In addition to dancing "against each other," these strangers and the local Indians used to play the "stick game." They gambled blankets and ammunition. The last was not cartridges, but powder and shot and caps with which they filled their own shells by hand. One of the two sticks used in the game had a red line around it, and the other was plain. The players danced and sang, while they apparently passed the sticks from hand to hand. (He did not make clear whether the leader exchanged the sticlis between his own hands—the usual method—or whether the sticks were passed along the line of players on his team.) No further details the game were given. AU the Indians knew this game, my informant said. Once the Yakutat and "Cordova People" (Eyak) bet against each other in a game on Kayak Island. In the old days a wealthy man might wager two slaves on one play. It might take a poor man 10 years to save enough for one slave—or 20 years—or never. Yet a wealthy man might bet two at one time. Culin (1907, pp. 287-289, figs. 371, 372) describes and illustrates several pieces for the Tlingit Hand Game. Chair Dice A gambling game (kitcu) is played mth a single die carved to represent a chair or a swimming bird (fig. 62). According to Swanton (1908, p. 445), the name 'buttocks-shape' (k!itc!u') is suggested by the curve of the piece. It is flat on two sides, and has four edges. Two persons play against each other, using 20 sticks as counters, each having a pile of 10 in front of him at the start of the game. (When Jack Reed made me a set, he made 20 pencil-shaped sticks like those for the Stick Tossing Game, see below, and 3 extra, in case some were lost.) To play, one person takes the die by the "back" of the "chafi-" (or the "beak" of the "bkd") between thumb and forefinger, and ffips it over the back of his hand with a snap of the WTist. It counts 2 points if the "chair" lands sitting up on the shortest edge (qicqak); 1 point if it lands on one of the other three edges; and 0 if it falls flat on either side. As he scores, the player takes 1 or 2 counters from his op- ponent's pile and adds them to his own. If the die falls flat on either side, the player misses his turn, which passes to his opponent. Winning involves taking aU the counters. (JR) This game is essentiaUy like that described by Culin (1907, pp. 130-131, figs. 138, 139) for the Tlingit, ex- cept that the latter specified that the die was thrown onto a mat of heavy skin, carved with a crest design. When Minnie Johnson and a friend played with Dr. McClellan and myself, they adopted different methods of scoring. AU of the counters were put in the middle, from which each drew when she scored. The sides of the die counted zero as before, the longest side ("back of the chair") counted 1, the ciuved edge ("seat") 3, 556 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 X wins the game FIGURE 62.—Chair die, carved by Jack Reed in 1952. The numbers indicate the points scored. the shorter straight edge ("front") 4, and the shortest edge ("bottom") was said to "win the game" (fig. 62). I believe that our friends were following the method of scoring used by the Eyak, in which the edges count 1, 2, 3, and 4, in inverse proportion to their length, while both sides count zero (Birket-Smith and de Laguna, 1938, p. 241). The late Sam George is said to have made a big wooden die for playing in the ANB HaU. Since the game w^as to raise money for the organization, the "winner" had to pay 10 cents for the honor, and didn't receive anything. It should be noted that the humerus of the seal or of the sea otter is tossed in exactly the same way as the chair die when it is being used for divination. Both chair dice for gambling and the use of the seal or sea otter humerus for divination are found among the Chugach (Birket-Smith, 1953, p. 108). Stick Tossing Game The Stick Tossing Game, "throwing-up-stick" (kex- dAdjit-luqas[?], or kekduhtc 'Xlqa) seems to be like that played by the Chugach (Birket-Smith, 1953, p. 106). Culin (1907, p. 729) describes a more northern Alaskan Eskimo version of the game as "jackstraws," but neither he nor Swanton report the game from the Thngit or other Northwest Coast tribes. The game is played with pencil-shaped sticks of red cedar, or "any kind of wood," about 8 inches long and ji inch thick. A set made for me by Jack Reed consisted of 20 sticks, of which 17 were plain. The others were carved at one end to suggest a head of a wolf (gutc), a devilfish (naq"'), and a shaman ('ixt'), and each of these was said to be worth two of the others. Sometimes, I was told, two sticks were simply marked by cuts: six marks for the "shaman" and three for his "assist- ant" ('ixt XAU qawu). The number of sticks actually used in playing is uncertain, for my informants dis- agreed, although I believe that 12 is usual. The game is played by two persons. To play, one man lays the bundle of sticks across the palm of his right hand. He tosses them up, catches them aU on the back of his hand and tosses them again, this time trying to catch one (preferably one of the marked sticks) as they fall. As he catches a stick between thumb and fore- finger, he sets this aside, and repeats the tossing and catching with the remaining sticks until aU have been caught, one after the other, or until he misses, and the turn passes to his opponent. If he catches a marked stick, he may remove 2 sticks for each of the three carved ones, or 12 for the "shaman" with six marks, and 6 for his "assistant" with three. (The last infor- mation sounds unreasonable, for it would spoil the game, and I think I must have misunderstood the num- ber of sticks that could be omitted from the next toss after catching the "shaman" and his "assistant.") It is my impression that on the fu'st round only one stick at a time is caught; on the second, two must be snatched from the falling bundle; on the third round, three; and so on; until on the last round of the game, the player tosses and catches all 12. Furthermore, he loses his chance if he catches more or less than the required number. If neither player completes a whole game without failing, then they compare the number of points each has missed. The one who has lost more, say three more than his opponent, has the right to hit the back of the latter's hand three times with the end of the bundle of sticks. This pounding can be rather severe and would seem to be fairly effective in evening the chances of winning. (According to Birket-Smith, the Chugach player who is ahead has the right to hit his opponent.) "A feUow can pound a bundle of sticks on the back of his hand. When he loses the last he gets a prize," commented one woman. "I saw my brothers do that," answered MJ. "'How many sticks did you miss?' Then you get that many tries. You get 20, I get 15— you hit five times." Quoits Another gambling game which was played at Yakutat resembled quoits ('AnAltiguq'[?]). As described: "They sing a song with this gambling game. There will be lots on this side, and lots on that—^lots of stuff. They have a big piece of sealskin and expensive things like blankets on both sides. They got a mark on the sealskin and they pitch at it. [The quoits] are pretty ones . . . like little chips. They are gaq' [gAq'^?, or 'hard wood')—round as a doUar. They have something in the middle of the sealskin. They have [this as a] IN THREE PARTS RECREATION AND ART 557 target. They throw at it and try to hit each other's markers out of it. They kind of sHde it [their quoit] on the sealskin. You block your own with another. "I saw it on the Fourth of July. ... I think they played it in the ANB HaU just to show the younger generation. Old big shots played that game." This seems to have been the same game as that described by the Eyak as the "Partner Game," so called because while two opponents tossed wooden disks at the shaving in the middle of a sealskin, each was closely watched by a partner of the other, to prevent cheating (Bu-ket-Smith and de Laguna, 1938, p. 240). Chess and Checkers Directly or indirectly from the Russians, the Yakutat people learned to play chess and checkers. Several parts of one or more sets of wooden chessmen, stained red, were collected by Professor Libbey at Yakutat in 1886 (pi. 139). These are very similar in style to some 19 out of 22 carved wooden chessmen (fig. 63) collected there by W. H. Dall (in 1874 or 1880?) and published by Cuhn (1907, fig. 1089, p. 793). An m- formant (MJ) mentioned checkers as being played by her father and mother at this same period. Regrettably, neither DaU nor ourselves secured information about the rules of these games. FiGTJRE 63.—Carved wooden chessmen collected by W. H. Dall (USNM 16300) from Port Mulgrave. Cuhn (1907, p. 793, fig. 1089) mentions that 22 chessmen were collected but illustrates only 19. They varied in height from 1^3%". It should be remembered that the Cordova Eyak beheved checkers to be aboriginal, and even told a cautionary tale about the child or youth who was abducted by the "Checkers People" as punishment for playing too much (Birket-Smith and de Laguna, 1938, pp. 322-323). Emmon's notes listed as distinctive for the Yakutat and "Gutheokqwan" (Kahliak River-ControUer Bay Eyak) the use of "native-made checkers (probably learned from Russians)." In discussing the patterns of Tlingit basketry, Emmons (1903, p. 277, fig. 360) described an old Yakutat basket with a checkerboard pattern. This was called 'checkers-under board' ("dar- war tar-yee dta-ye") or 'checkers-foot board' ("dar-war kus-see dta-ye")—i.e., dAWA tAyi t'ayi, and dAWA xu^i t&ji. He writes of the game. "The game of checkers has long been popular with the Tlingit. They play much as we do, but the checkers partake more of the appearance of chess- men. They are carved figures, divided equally in sex. Each one is named, and personates some natural or artificial object. This game was introduced many years ago, for the present people have no record of the event, and beheve it to be of their own invention." Emmon's description of the pieces shaped like chess- men, but divided into a male set and a female set (i.e., corresponding to our "red" and "white"), suggests the checkers game (dXmb^') of the Atna Athabaskans on the Copper River (fieldnotes with McClellan, 1960). The pieces representing "men" are shaped like ordinary pawns, while those called "women" (pawns of the opponent) are notched at the top. Some pieces like these were among the chessmen collected by Libbey at Yakutat. His collection and that of Dall are much more varied in character than the simple "men" and "women" pieces of the Atna. Bingo The love of gambling and of simply handling money, even if unprofitable in the long run, explains the pop- ularity of the Bingo games sponsored several times a week during the mnter by the ANS (Alaska Native Sisterhood), in the ANB HaU. Some persons, especially women, go regularly to play and like to talk about their small mnnings, for example, of $4. However, the rule is that each player must pay 10 cents a card, that is, to enter the game each time, and that half of the winnings (i.e., half the stakes bet each time) must remain in the ANS treasury. Thus, it would ap- pear that the fun is in winning and in manipulating coins, and that the players fail to realize that they 558 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 are actually losing in the long run. On the other hand, there is a strong feeling that they have an obligation to support the ANS, which gives help in time of sickness, death, or other catastrophe, and the women realize that playing Bingo benefits the organization. In addition to Bingo, ANS raises money by charging admission to the Saturday night dances and to special shows, making paper flowers for sale, etc. The moneys collected in this way, especially thi'ough Bingo and dances, though in the form of small change, may amount to several hundred dollars in a short length of time, according to one of the cannery clerks who was counting and wrapping dimes for the ANS treasury. Tops Emmons (notes) also hsts as distinctive for Yakutat to Controller Bay the use of "counting sticks," and "the use of the top or tee-totum as [a] gambling im- plement." I heard nothing about this and do not know exactly how the game was played. Of a bone disk, obtained at Yakutat (pi. 139), Emmons wrote, however; "A gambling spinner used by men. Each player fur- nishes his o-wn spinner and they spin together; the one spinning longest wins. In use it fits over a bone or wooden spindle." W. H. Dall collected a complete top at Port Mulgrave, consisting of an ivory disk almost 4 inches in diameter, and a wooden spindle, 3% inches long (Culin, 1907, p. 740, fig. 983). A stone disk for a top, engraved with a Raven on one side and a Salmon on the other (pi. 137), and a similar piece of whale bone decorated with a Frog (pi. 137) were collected by Professor Libbey at Yakutat in 1886. Two stone disks (AMNH E/2759, 19/225) were also obtained there by Lieutenant Emmons at the same period. The latter writes that the second was found in the possession of children, but the natives claimed that it was originally on a spindle to produce fire by friction. The children, at any rate, were using it as a "teetotum," and I would suspect that it had always been a top, since the native fixe drill lacked a flywheel. The top, or "spinning wheel" (MJ), was called xone or xune, and must have been very ancient among the Gulf Coast Indians, for Raven is said to have called himself 'Top from Inside the Whale' (yay yik dax xone), referring to his adventures inside the whale that eventually drifted ashore at Dry Bay (p. 852). When it was cut open. Raven flew out -with a buzzing sound, which the word for top suggests. Malaspina's "Ankau June' was obviously named 'Top' (xone). after Raven. Contests Other games, apparently played for stakes, were athletic contests. Among these, the most important were shinny and canoe racing. Swanton (1908, p. 445) also mentioned shinny, and several games involving shooting arrows or throwing darts at stationary or moving tar- gets. My informants did not, however, happen to men- tion the latter, although they were probably held since the Copper River Eyak also had shooting matches, as well as foot races and wresthng matches. They also played shinny (Birket-Smith and de Laguna, 1938, pp. 240-241). SHINNY Shinny or "goK" (kuqesa, kukesa, or ^af, cf. Quoits) was played by two teams that hit a ball back and forth, each side attempting to drive it across the goal line defended by their opponents. The field was preferably an area between two lakes or ponds, but there were no markers or posts set up to indicate the two ends. "It's the same thing as golf [!] After we get skates, we play the same thing. . . . It's an Indian game. I don't know how the White people get it." As among the Eyak (Birket-Smith and de Laguna, 1938, p. 240), the two teams might be drawn from the same or from opposing sibs. This game, as well as one involving jumping over and between sharp greenstone rocks (an Eskimo sport), and also other games, are played in "heaven" (kiwa'a) by the souls of those slain in battle, or who have died of violence. OTHER CONTESTS Basketball is very popular today among the Tlingit, including those of Yakutat. It is played chiefly by boys of high school age or a little older. It has become so important an intervillage sport that the 'medicine' for marksmanship has been used in secret by ambitious players (see p. 661). In earlier times the Yakutat people, like the Eyak, often had various contests with the Chugach. These were held when groups from Yakutat came to Nuchek to trade. Old Chief Makari in 1933 told Bu-ket-Smith and me about such an event when he was a small boy (i.e., in the middle of the 19th century). The Chugach and Yakutat played shinny, but the former had a very fast player who used two sticks, and so could take the ball away from the Yakutat who were so slow they could use only one. The Chugach also won the foot- race. Finally an Indian named Niuqut (probably Nequt, a Teqwedi name), a small and not very strong man, defeated the Chugach champion in a wrestling match because he "chewed some kind of leaves and blew into his opponent's face," so that the latter lost his strength IN THREE PARTS RECREATION AND ART 559 (Birket-Smith, 1953, p. 108). Obviously, he was using the 'no strength medicine,' which actually consists of roots, although the Thngit call it 'leaves' (kayani). The Chugach naturally considered this use of 'medicine' to be very unfair. It was probably only through oversight that my Yakutat informants failed to describe wrestling and footraces. Fourth of July Canoe Races The Yakutat people have enjoyed boat races for a long time. These are still traditionally held on the Fourth of July, after the children and young people, carefully graded by age and sex in the interest of fair- ness, have competed in short footraces, sack races, potato races, and other contests on the cannery dock. For these, as well as for the boat race which ends the afternoon's entertainment, the cannery helps in putting up money for prizes. The race is made by skiff with outboard motor over a course that runs from the cannery dock out and around the channel buoy near Point Turner and back to the dock. In 1952 the proceedings were enlivened by the antics of XX, who with great humor pretended to compete in the sack race, and joined the boat race paddling a cranky canoe which he nearly upset. I was told that he regularly acts as a clown on the Fourth of July. His uncle, "Gums" (Jimmy Jackson, 1861-1948), B. A. Jack (1860-1949), Peter Lawrence (1871-1950), and others, all had the reputation of being "witty men," which suggests that there may have been the tradition for someone to lighten serious occasions (including pot- latches) with good-humored and clever buffoonery. There is the tradition of a canoe race between Indians from southeastern Alaska and the ancient inhabitants of "Old Town" on Knight Island. The former had a large red cedar canoe, while the local people had a skin war canoe with a crew of 20 men. The race was from the village on Knight Island around Eleanor Island and back. Each crew was captauaed by a nephew of their chief. As the canoes were rounding Eleanor Island abreast, a man in one grabbed the gunwale of the other, but was cut loose by a member of the other crew, pos- sibly by having his hand cut off(?). No one today is certain who won, but the Tlingit of southeastern Alaska always claun they did, while the Yakutat people are just as sure that they won. While the Eyak had canoe races, even building special canoes for racing, and the Chugach also raced in umiaks and baidarkas, it is interesting that the Chugach never attempted to race against the Yakutat, because the dugouts of the latter were too fast for their skin boats (Birket-Smith and de Laguna, 1938, p. 241, Birket-Smith, 1953, p. 104). At Yakutat, boat races were formerly between rival sibs who used their large named "war canoes." Such a race, which probably took place about 1890 was de- scribed as follows: "Gee, I see a canoe race when I was young. Big war canoes raced from the Old ViUage to Kiantaak. ... It was a race between K'^ackqwan and Ti'uknaxAdi. I was held up so I could see. They bet on the race and chew the rag. , . . They had crews of K'^ackqwan and Tl'uknaxAdi. The men got no clothes on; they just tied their shirts around their waists. Big husky men with paddles—no, oars. I don't know how many men [in each crew]. The captain steered. The captains were Ckman [Tl'uknaxAdi of Boulder House, who died before 1901] and Chief George—'Yakutat Chief Yaxodaqet' [K^ackqwan sib chief who died in 1902 or 1903]." (MJ) Referring to a later period, another informant said: "They used to have Fourth of July canoe races. Month of March I used to hear all my uncles—tick, tick, tick—adzing out canoes. The races were more fun than now. . . . Sitka Ned [Teqwedi, died 1926] used to make t6Ayac [forked-prow canoe] for Fourth of July. His were always the fastest. The last race they beat him. Jack Reed [Ti'ulmaxAdi, 1880-1953] make it in Situk like 'andeyagu ['ship's boat']. That was the last canoe. That canoe beat Sitka Ned. He's paddling his own canoe then." In those days the Fourth of July celebration seems to have been anything but tame, for when "Captain Ahous" was at the cannery, he is said to have given two barrels of soda pop to the crowd, and a quart of whiskey and box of cigars to each seine boat captain (Situk Jim, Situk Harry, Daniel S. Benson, and Jim Kardeetoo), to share with his crew. Cat's Cradles The Yakutat people formerly amused themselves with string figures (tl'el), but these are now all but forgotten, and I did not attempt to coUect records of the various forms and the methods of making them. One elderly woman, with some fumbling, managed to make a few, and described others, as follows: 1. "Two men in a skin canoe." 2. "The sea otter hunter and his son" [same as above?]. Here the little son is behind his father. He gets his spear ready, and when the proper string is pulled his coiled up harpoon line shoots out straight. 3. "Crow foot." The informant had heard that one 1. 560 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 could change Crow Foot into Fish Tail, but did not show this. 4. "String Basket." This was not demonstrated. A piece of charcoal or other small light object was put in the bottom of the "basket" and when the two correct strings were jerked, the pellet flew into the air. 5. A string is laced around the fingers, seemingly tying them tight, but it can be pulled free by tugging at one end. (Is this the way in which the fingers of adolescent girls, widows, and peace hostages were bound?) Apropos of the last, the informant (MJ) remembered when her father had wound a string all through her mother's toes. Then he cupped one hand like an arch at the side of her foot, and with the other hand pulled the string. It came sliding through her toes, and was supposed to represent a frog hopping along under the arch. Her mother became angry and almost scratched his face. Probably this was because she had the charac- teristic Tlingit horror of frogs (see p. 831). Her mother was always busy with housework, but in the evening she used to ask her husband to teach her string tricks. They would sit around in the evenings, playing checkers or making string figures. Harrington was able to record only that "Old people make cats cradles: two mountains with a stream be- tween them; and a boat coming down stream and a man throwing a spear, and two dogs on the bank. But all the informant knows how to make is a devil fish, and then turns this into a devilfish-under-a-rock." MUSIC iW^ W^(vj j\n\MtfY^Y^ #%; ^ :a .uif-i'iTr FjJiiliALJjt^rririi-i^-'^Jijjjii^ f jjjl 'U JI -U it^^f^^^^^ FiGUKE 64.—Tlingit song recorded in Lituya Bay, July 1786. "They who have the strongest voices take the air a third lower, and the women a third higher, than the natural pitch. Some sing an octave to it, and often make a rest of two bars, at the place where the air is highest." (LaPerouse, 1799, vol. 1, p. 403.) Songs "Oh gee, I'm just chock-ablock fuU of songs!" could be said by most of my informants at Yakutat. Songs were not the accompaniment of work, as they are in many parts of the world when many hands or feet must move together in grinding, monotonous labor. Rather, Tlingit songs are to express one's inmost feel- ings (qatuwu), the longings, love, joy or sorrow of individuals or groups. With song, the dead were mourned at funerals and potlatches, sib treasures were displayed and personages honored; with song and dance, guests at feasts expressed IN THREE PARTS RECREATION AND ART 561 their happiness and appreciation; hostilities were averted and peace was made with appropriate songs. Gamblers sang as they played, mothers dandled or soothed their babies with pet songs or lullabies, loved ones were wooed or rebuked in song, the hunter pla- cated the souls of slain animals by singing to them, and the shaman invoked his dread spiritual helpers with the irregular rhythms of their own songs. There is hardly an occasion—^from a solemn cere- mony to an idle hour with congenial friends or in lonely sohtude—for which the Tlingit cannot find appropriate music, or for which he or she is not moved to compose a new song or set fresh words to familiar tunes. Infor- mal gatherings, especially when there is something to drink, are times for singing, and it is still quite com- mon for individuals, especiaUy women, to sing when alone, the tears streaming down their faces at remem- brance of the dead with whom the music is associated in their minds. "The old people have died, and the songs have gone for good—Old Sampson, B. A. Jack and Jack EUis are dead. Kuxanguwutan [Katy Dixon Isaac] is expected to die any time. Old Sampson was pretty good at potlatch songs," said one man. "The song composers, like Jimmy Jackson and WiUiam Milton, are dead. Same way, the women folks that can sing are dying off, and the songs are dying with them," lamented a woman. "Old people, two hundred years ago, make songs for blankets, hats, totem poles. . . . My father wants me to learn songs. I say 'Iiii! No good! I don't want to learn it. Kale—no good,' I say about church songs he learned at StiMne. My father said 'One day, White people going to ask for old songs. You're going to see itl' He was right. My father try to teach my sister a yek [shaman's spirit] song. She didn't want to learn it." (Mrs. —) "We're forgetting native people's songs. When we joined the ANB they said 'You're going to be American citizen forever and forever.' And they can't sing those songs," said another woman. Yet of aU arts formerly practiced at Yakutat, per- haps that of music is still most alive, and song com- posers are still esteemed. out to the ships to trade would precede commercial transactions by lengthy singing, ui which the chief seems to have acted as song leader, while the crews sang in harmony. After circling the vessels, the chief and his party might sing and dance on deck for an hour or more (see pp. 116, 119, 143, 146). Some of the songs seem definitely to have been used for peace- making (pp. 147, 150, 151). We are fortunate in having preserved for us the scores for two such 18th-centmy songs, although the numerous transcriptions of Yakutat songs, made by Haenke in 1791, have unfortunately been lost or mislaid. LITUYA BAT, 1786 LaPerouse was the first to give us any clear idea of Tlingit songs. He had observed that, although gambling often makes them "grave and melancholy: yet I have often heard them sing, and when the chief came to visit me, he com- monly paraded round the ship singing, with his arms stretched out in form of a cross as a token of friendship. He then came on board, and acted a pantomime expressing either a battle, a surprise, or death. The air that preceded this dance was pleasing, and tolerably melodious. The following are the notes of it, as accurately as we could take them down." [Cf. fig. 64.] [A footnote adds:] "They who have the strongest voices take the air a third lower, and the women a third higher, than the natural pitch. Some sing an octave to it, and often make a rest of two bars, at the place where the air is highest." [La P^rouse, 1799, vol. 1, p. 408.] "The harshness of their language is less perceptible when they sing." [LaPerouse, 1799, vol. 1, p. 410.] These observations that melodies were rendered with part-singing in different voices corroborates the information of my informants. Although LaPerouse compared the native songs to the "plain chaunt [plein chant, 'full song'] of our churches" (quoted p. 116), it is clear that part singing was truly aboriginal, and not inspired by Russian church music which was later to be adopted by the southeastern Alaska Tlingit. 18th-century Singing The earliest visitors to the Tlingit were impressed by their constant smging. The ships of these explorers were customarily greeted by canoes full of natives who sang to express their peaceful intentions or their welcome to the strangers. Thereafter, canoes commg SITKA SOUND, 1787 Beresford (1789, pp. 242-243), while apparently reporting on Northwest Coast singing in general, has given us the score of a song he heard in "Norfolk" (Sitka) Sound, sung before trading. Presumably, therefore, his remarks apply particularly to Tlingit singing. The words of this song are meaningless syllables. He had explained that the natives treasure masks 562 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY Indian Sonir as irenerally Sun^ hy the Natives of NORFOLK SOUND previous to commencing^ trade hob lioh hot! AI« la coofch la cooTch al -. la Chitf of .the tribe Men Hai'gh I mill ^^ VOLUME 7 . ^m f..r .fJi lioli hoh hoh zig ha ha)^i haigh hai;^ iiaigh*« ^ ha holi lioli holi hch f r riff fir f rrr r r' 'I 'irrriifrri 1^ !h hll hAhho'h h6h rrrirrrh'" / haigh ^^^F> ^^ ^^S ^^ haigh haigh ha\i;ii JJJlJ IJI.I .1.1 .l,L II FiGUEE 65.—Song recorded by William Beresford, Sitka Sound, 1787. IN THREE PARTS RECREATION AND ART 563 or visors and caps, painted or carved to represent animals, birds, fish, or the human face, and that they keep these in "neat square boxes." "Whenever any large party came to trade, these treasures were first produced, and the principal persons dressed out in all their finery before singing commenced. In addition to this, the Chief (who always conducts the vocal concert) puts on a large coat, made of the elk skin, tanned, round the lower part of which is one, or sometimes two rows of dried berries[?], or the beaks of birds, which make a rattling noise whenever he moves. In his hand he has a rattle, or more commonly a contrivance to answer the same end, which is of a circular form, about nine inches in diameter, and made of three smaU sticks bent round at different distances from each other: great numbers of birds beaks and dried berries[?] are tied to this curious instrument, which is shook by the Chief with great glee, and in his opinion makes no small addition to the concert. Their songs generally consist of several stanzas, to each of which is added a chorus. The beginning of each stanza is given out by the chief alone, after which both men and women join and sing in octaves, beating time regularly with their hands, or paddles: meanwhile the Chief shakes his rattle, and makes a thousand ridiculous gesticulations, singing at intervals in different notes from the rest; and this mirth generally continues near half an hour without intermission. "I shall here write down, in notes, a song which I often heard whilst we lay in Norfolk Sound: my knowledge of the science is so very superficial that I can say but very little as to its accuracy; however, it will serve to convey a better idea of the music used on the American coast than any other mode of description can do; at the same time it should be observed, that they have a great variety of tunes, but the method of performing them is universally the same." [Cf. fig. 65.] The "Chief" seems to have been dressed in skin armor, of the kind worn by shamans (cf. p. 688), and the rattle he carried was not the usual raven rattle of the chief, but was a kind known to be used by shamans (p. 699; pi. 205), like one from the grave house of a Dry Bay doctor that was hung with puffin beaks and deer hoofs. Nevertheless, this description of singing corresponds well with the information I obtained: the chief as song leader, the men and women singing several tones or an octave apart, and compositions consisting of several stanzas with chorus. The scores of the two songs have been reproduced so that they may be compared with those transcribed from my recordings (see Appendix). 265-517—72—vol. VII, pt. 2 3 PORT MULGRAVE, 1791 It is a tragedy that the transcriptions made by Dr. Haenke of Yakutat songs have been lost, for Mala- spina's expedition had better opportunities for hearing and better preparation for recording Tlingit songs than had any other 18th-century visitor. References to these songs, to the occasions on which they were sung and the manner ia which they were presented, are quoted on pages 141, 150, 151, 622-623. Thus, the Spanish vessels were greeted by songs which the chief led in a "stentorian and frightful voice," according to SurIa, while all those in the canoes joined ia intoning "a very sad song . . . composed of only three notes although the measure varied." This de- scription would fit very well the ancient sib songs, sung at potlatches and funerals. Surla further tells us that on this occasion the natives also sang other songs in the same style, ah "very agreeable and sono- rous" [i.e., in parts?]. The song leader dictated the words and indicated the tune and rhythm with move- ments of his body, to which the rest kept "good time." At intervals they might pause and all give three shouts. When receiving foreign visitors, when making peace or celebrating the reestablishment of friendly relations with the Spaniards, the natives sang different songs, but ones apparently in the same style. When singing to the Spaniards they were divided into three groups and ended each song with "a kind of laugh" or a bark. Such cries at the ends of songs are still given. Malaspina also mentioned the "really harmonious hymns of peace, war, rejoicing and devotions." My informants, however, denied that there were special songs for war [p. 584]. Nevertheless, warlike dances with mock weapons (and sometimes with real ones, cf. Suria's experience, p. 150) were part of the peace cere- mony (p. 601), and no doubt warhke dances or dramatic shows were also included in potlatch celebrations (p. 626) and in the reception of guests. The most serious sib songs, with three-part or four-part harmony and slow beat, would certainly impress anyone as having the solemn and reverent character which we associate with religious music. They are better compared with a national anthem or funeral march. Vancouver's narrative also comments on the use of songs when the Yakutat natives made peace with the Russians (p. 157). Perhaps some of the songs which I recorded at Yakutat in 1952 and 1954 actually date back to the 18th century. Some can with certainty be ascribed to the early or mid 19th century; others were composed later. For many late 19th and 20th-century songs, specific dates as well as the names of the composers could be given. 564 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 Recording Yakutat Songs The Yakutat people have a large repertory of songs, including foreign as well as Thngit compositions, ancient and modern, and varying in style and mood depending on the occasions on which they are usually sung. The ancient traditional Tlingit songs are almost all the jealously guarded property of particular sibs. Some songs, largely those of foreign origin (Athabaskan, Tsimshian, or Haida) may be sung by anyone. StUl other songs are felt to belong to a particular individual (as composer, as the one for whom the song was com- posed, or as the shaman to whose spirit the song belongs). With the death of the owner, the status of his songs may change: some become the exclusive prerogative of the composer's sib, or of a close relative in it who has succeeded to his position; others, de- pending on their subject matter, may become "popular songs" which everyone sings. Although I attempted to obtain examples of aU types of songs, ownership, that is, the right to sing in public, had an effect on my ability to secm^e recordings. Thus, a number of songs were mentioned or even sung to me privately by persons who refused to do so for the tape recorder, since these songs belonged to another sib. This reluctance was especiaUy noted in the case of the most precious sib potlatch songs (see pp. 586-587). Normally the latter would be sung only by the owners, who would demonstrate both their rights and the value of the music by paying their listeners (the opposite moiety). Or, if some of the latter were asked to take part, they would then also be paid. This last custom made it possible for me to secure the recordings of some valued songs even when the members of the owning sib did not know them well enough to sing; in such cases, they would often ask other persons to sing them for my machine, and then give them money for this service. If such cooperation could not be secured, and if the owners were unwilling, it was impossible to pursuade non-owners to make recordings. Songs associated with specific individuals were usually not so strictly controlled. No one else would, of course, sing the composition of a living composer, nor a song dedicated to a hving person, unless requested by him, but with the present breakdown of strict matrilineal inheritance a number of songs belonging to dead men were recorded by their children. Although the latter were members of the opposite moiety, they nevertheless felt close enough to the deceased to sing his songs, and besides, they argued, there was no one else left who knew them, and they wanted to have these recorded as permanent memorials to their beloved fathers. The same was true of a few shamans' songs. In 1950 Dr, Catharine McClellan and I had made recordings of some songs at Angoon, These consisted of two Decitan (Raven sib) potlatch songs: The Song of the Raven Hat and the Song of the Beaver Hat; and there were three Tsimshian songs used for dancing. When we played these to an interested audience at Yakutat in 1952, some of those present became fired with the ambition to equal the Angoon singing. This led to the recordmg of about 26 songs that summer, ranging from the most serious traditional potlatch songs to a hymn rendered in Tlingit baby talk! Phono- graph records cut from the tapes were sent as gifts to the singers. The songs sung by Jack Reed (Tl'uknaxAdi, 1880-1953) were played at his own funeral potlatch. Listening to these and to the other records not only revived interest in native songs, but stimulated hitherto reluctant singers, so that when I returned in 1954 with Mary Jane Downs we were able to record about 95 songs (the count includes two or three versions by different singers for a few melodies). Thsoe who sang were delighted to hear their ow^n voices when the tapes were played back to them, and they were equally eager to hear what others had sung. They were also anxious to obtain phonograph records of these songs as mementoes of the dead and to play at future potlatches. Interest grew, and new songs were composed that year, (The last even included one by myself in Tlingit style, for which I gratefully acknowledge John Ellis' help with the Tlingit text, as well as gratitude for the reception accorded by the surprised audience.) To a greater extent in 1954 than in 1952 an attempt was made to secure transcriptions of the Tlingit texts of the songs, sometimes from the singers and from the tape, but preferably from dictation. I also tried to obtain more accurate English versions than the very free translations or explanations usually offered. The results, however, are but moderately successful, for not only was my linguistic skiU often unequal to the difficulties of Tlingit phonetics and grammar, but some informants were actually unable to dictate the words to the songs which they had just sung, omitting phrases, transposing their order, or even altering some of the expressions, and an interpreter might insist upon a different version from that of the original singer. This suggests not only the difficulties which we ourselves often experience when trying to teach a song to someone else, but also seems to indicate a certain "fluidity" in Tlingit versification. The degree to which even traditional songs may vary can be judged by comparing my texts with those of Swanton for what are obviously the same songs, as weU as by comparing the different Yakutat versions in words or music of the same song recorded by different persons. IN THREE PARTS RECREATION AND ART 565 The recordings were made on a 1952 model Pentron tape recorder, on dual-track Audio-tape at a speed of 7K inches per second. Some difficulty was experienced, especially in 1952, with fluctuations of the electric cur- rent; some songs were never recorded because power was not available when the singers were wilhng. A standard pitchpipe was blown before and after songs so that it might be possible to allow for variations in the speed of the tape. No drum was available in 1952, and singers either did without, or pounded on the skin head of a banjo with a ruler wrapped in cloth, while holding do'wn the strings. In 1954,1 provided the singers with a Tlingit drum which I had purchased in Juneau. This was of the usual tambourine type with a deerskin head; the drumstick was unusual in that the striking end was made of a rubber ball encased in a stocking, instead of the traditional winding of skin. However, the Yakutat people approved of the drum and drum- stick and made extensive use of them. When recording shamans' songs, Frank ItaHo beat time with a pencil on a wooden cigar box, imitating the soimd of the customary tapping sticks and sounding board (p. 697). Although rattles should have accompanied some songs, we had none to provide, but some drummers were satisfied with a very rapid beat on the drum. In making the recordings, the singers usually preceded the music with a spoken introduction in Tlingit. This would explain the myth or legend from which a tradi- tional song was derived, or the occasions on which it was customarily sung and why it was now being recorded. For more recent songs, the introduction usually named the composer and his or her relation to the singer, explained why the song had been composed, and for whom it was intended or to whom it referred. Often a spoken conclusion followed the song, thanking the audience for listening and adding further informa- tion. Somewhat similar spoken introductions and con- clusions, although perhaps more formal in style and always serious in tone, would have been made for songs delivered at potlatches. Many of the recordings also include translations or explanations of the songs in English. Specific information about each Yakutat song is found in the Appendix. The songs are presented ac- cording to their type, with transcriptions and transla- tions of the texts whenever possible, and with score and analysis of the music for 117 compositions. In addition to the songs themselves, we recorded in Tlingit several myths, including two versions of the Raven cycle (both by Frank Italio, in 1952 and 1954), and some accounts of more recent history. The trans- lations of these, where pertinent, are given in appro- priate sections of this book. Character of Tlingit Songs Although Thngit songs are of different kinds, most of them exhibit the same general form. With few ex- ceptions, all have two stanzas. This is also apparently the case with most of those recorded by Swanton (1909, pp. 390-415), even though his texts as printed do not always make this clear. Note that Song 91 (ibid,, p, 412) with only one stanza is called a "half song." Each stanza is relatively short, consisting of one to about three short sentences, and rarely lasting 30 seconds. The melody is sung first to a refrain or chorus of mean- ingless syllables: "'aya ha he," or "'aya 'e— 'a—," often ending in "'ani ^aye" if it is a love song. The chorus of a mourning song may run "'aha huwu . . . 'ehuwe 'ehuwa," or "'awe he 'iye," or "'a— hine—." This is referred to as "the humming" "without words." Swanton transcribed none of these; my records are also deficient. After the refrain is sung, the first stanza is sung twice to the same tune. Then the refrain or chorus mthout words is repeated and the second stanza is sung twice. Thus, the same melody is sung in all six times, unless the song has three stanzas, in which case there may be nine repetitions. (I know of no song with more than three stanzas, although some sound as if they had been composed with four stanzas. Sometimes it is hard to distinguish a song of two stanzas from two separate songs.) In a few recordings, only the first stanza was sung, usually because the words of the second had been forgotten. Some singers omitted the refrain because they were unfamihar with the proper style. In the old traditional songs the words are usually very few, and often cryptic, conveying their full mean- ing by allusive imagery or by reference to mythic events familiar to everyone. In this respect they are like formal Tlingit oratory (cf. Swanton, 1909, pp. 374-388). Yakutat examples of such songs would be Lament for the Raven Post (1954, 3-2-H; p. 1161), or Raven Cries For Dayhght (1954, 6-2-B; p. 1155). However, the hues are lengthened by inserting extra syllables in or between words, or at the ends of lines. The same device is used by modern composers to fit the words to the melody. Thus, 'my uncles' ('ax kak-hAs) becomes in songs 'ax kagi-hAsa; 'the world' (Imgit 'ani) becomes linigit 'ani; Kagwantan becomes Kahagwani; and Gmexqwan, the traditional and poetic designation for K^ackqwan, is lengthened to Ginexqwani. 'Thus' (xawes) and similar expressions (see the hst of "particles" in Boas, 1917, pp, 150-152) are inserted into the sentence, and many words add an extra -a or -i at the end (after the final aspirated consonant has been transformed into a sonant). 566 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 The old songs likewise use unfamiliar, probably archaic, expressions which make it hard for informants to translate the words or even to explain their meaning, Swanton (1909, p, 390) encountered similar difficulties: "The language of these songs is so highly metaphorical that they are often difficult to understand even in the hght of the native explanations, and in some cases the author's informants were themselves uncertain with regard to the meaning," For example, one song, anciently sung after a canoe had safely descended the Alsek River under the ice bridge, could be translated, but my informants could not explain the meaning (1954, 3-1-C, 3-2-F, and 6-2-E; all on p. 1230). One suspects, since the song itself is said to be of Athabaskan origin, that the Tlingit words are simply ones adopted because they sounded something hke the Athabaskan originals, although there is nothing ap- parently appropriate in their meaning. Just as the words of the old songs so often convey so little explicitly, so too their tunes are generally limited in range to a few notes. It is as if time had drained them of words and melody, leaving only the emotional significance to be conveyed by the several voices intoning in harmony and the insistence of the long drawn-out phrases reiterated to the slow heavy beat. This is particularly true of the old mourning songs chanted at funerals and potlatches. So also, the joyous dance tunes with their more lively rhythm may lack intelligible words because they are almost all foreign, and may be equally limited in tuneful range. Yet because these are traditional, they carry their happy message. As far as I can tell, these foreign songs do not necessarily follow the formal Tlingit pattern of double repetition of each stanza, preceded by a refrain without words. Modern compositions, that is songs by known com- posers, even though they may date back to the 1870's or 1880's, are both more tuneful and more dependent upon the sense of their words. Most of these songs are said to have been influenced by Haida style and are, therefore, called 'Haida mouth songs' (Dekina xa ciyi). Love songs are usually (or exclusively) of this type. The Haida are said to use such songs for dancing, so these and their Tlingit copies are assumed to have a lively tempo, despite the fact that many express the sorrows of the composer. Even so, a number of the latter were actuaUy composed for dances to be per- formed at potlatches (see Skin Canoe George's song, p, 633), With rare exceptions 'Haida mouth songs' are addressed to sib-children, that is, to members of the opposite moiety who are the children of men of a sib in the singer's own moiety (pp, 485-486), Some of my informants recognized a difference in style between the compositions of such Dry Bay men as Dry Bay Chief George or Blind Dave Dick, and songs originating at Yakutat or in southeastern Alaska, Some of the former show in their faster and more accented rhythms what I take to be Athabaskan influence. When singing was done on formal occasions, such as potlatches, funerals, feasts, or peace ceremonies, it was performed by a whole group, usually of men and women (of the same sib or moiety), and was directed by one or more song leaders. Such songs were chosen and rehearsed in advance. They were supposed to be accompanied, if not by active dancing, at least by set motions of the body and limbs. The song leaders guided the singing and gestures by means of long poles or paddles, which were raised and lowered, or moved from side to side in time with the music. The song leader, whether the chief or a young man, usually began the song, and the others joined in. He would caU out the words in advance, just before they were to be sung by the rest, and would similarly give direc- tions, such as 'Again!' (tcul6), 'To the beginning!' (hede), 'End' (hutc), or 'That's the end!' (hutc'awa!). Many songs, especially those sung at ceremonies, had several voices or parts, often two for the men and two for the women. The song leader was supposed to have a "bass voice," while the other men and, of course, the women sang at higher pitches. Unfortu- nately, it was almost never possible to assemble enough singers to represent this aspect of native music (see, however. The Song of the Golden Eagle, 1954, 1-1-F; and the Killerwhale Drum Song, 1954, 5-1-D; pp, 1166 and 1167). Usually the songs had to be rendered by only one or two persons, but if one of these had been a song leader he would try to make the necessary calls, and when the tape was played back he would accompany himseK (or herself) several tones higher in pitch, A number of songs ended with special cries, and these would also be given by the song leader. (See pp. 618-619 for the role of the song leader at a potlatch,) As already indicated, the only musical instruments were the drum, rattles, and tapping sticks. The most common type of drum was a tambourine with a head of sealskin, or of deerskin imported from southeastern Alaska, The handle consisted of one or two thongs stretched across the back. Large wooden box drums, hung from the ceiling, were beaten on the inside. A simple stick, the end wrapped in skin or cloth, served to beat the drum, (For further descriptions, see p, 632,) Rattles were not used for mourning songs, but were reserved for dance songs and for shamans' songs. My informants did not specify what dance rattles were hke only that they were different from those of shamans. Presumably they sounded much the same. Nor did I hear of any difference between the rattles used by chiefs and those that might be carried by ordinary IN THREE PARTS RECREATION AND ART 567 dancers (see Swanton, quoted below). Tapping sticks were used only for shamans' songs. (For the shaman's drums, rattles, tapping sticks, see pp. 697-699,) In addition to the sounds of these percussion instru- ments, other sounds accompanying the different songs would be the thud of the dancers' feet, clapping of hands, or the rattle of the shaman's bone and ivory amulets as he ran around the fire. During some happy songs, the singers or song leader might utter animal cries, for example raven caws or sounds suggestive of a whale spouting, such as "hiii" or "h'^iii!" The last were said to be Tsimshian. Sad songs, to judge by those which I recorded, were probably accompanied as well as followed by sobs and wails. Dancing Just as Tlingit songs foUow a formal pattern, so the dances accompanying them are formal and restrained. Always excepting the songs and dances of the shamans, there is nothing improvised or dionysiac about Tlingit dances. We may perhaps have to qualify this statement for some of the warlike dances that might be performed at peace ceremonies. At least Suria was terrffied by what was apparently such a dance: "They formed a circle around me and danced around me knives in hand singing a frightful song, which seemed like the bellowing of buUs" (quoted p. 150). Although the greatest vigor of expression seems to have been found in such dances, performed with mock weapons as they were described to me (p, 601), the warlike character of these dances seems usually to have been conveyed by controlled and traditional gestures and cries. For most dances, certainly, the steps and movements were traditional and fixed for the specific song, and these were rehearsed in advance. For example, the formal motions accompany- ing certain traditional K^ackqwan songs have been described (p. 240). When these were recorded (1954, 7-2-A; 7-2-B; 7-2-C; pp. 1155, 1226, 1227), the smgers even came prepared with the proper seagull wings and moved these in time to the music. Other dances are described in the account of the potlatch (pp. 624-629, 633-634, 638, 642-643) and peace ceremony (p. 601), I unfortunately saw none myself. Katishan of Wrangell described Tlingit dances and songs to Swanton in connection with one of the stories (1909, Tale 31, p, 141): "Thus it happens that there are two kinds of dances, a dance for the chief and his sons [when the chief gives a potlatch] and this common or Haida dance (Dekl'na AL!e'x) [i,e,, to imported tunes or to 'Haida mouth songs'?]. In the latter, women always accompany it with songs, and, if the com- poser sings about some good family, members of the latter give him presents [i,e,, the traditional response of those addressed as sib-children by their opposites]. When the chief is going to dance, he has to be very careful not to say anything out of the way. He dances wearing a head dress with weasel skins [cAki'At], a Chilkat blanket, and leg- gings and carrying a raven rattle. He is the only one whose voice is heard, and he speaks very quietly. Meanwhile, until it is time for them to start singing for him, the people are very quiet and then only high-caste people sing, [This sounds hke the chief initiating the singing at his potlatch, see p. 631.] The Haida dance, however, is always accompanied by noise. It is rather a dance for pleasure [by guests after the distribution of potlatch gifts], while the chief's dance is more of a ceremony. Although most of the people who witness it are high-caste, anyone is welcome. All watch the chief's actions and listen to his words very closely. If he makes the least mistake, showing that he has not studied his words beforehand very well, they have too much respect for him to say anything to him at that time. Next day, however, after he has found it out, if he does not take his words back, the people that had heard wiU disgrace him by giving away a great deal of property. The Haida dance was done away with years ago, while the chief's dance has been given up only in very recent times." The carefully chosen words of the chief, the restraint, decorum and careful attention to details that charac- terize the chief's dance are well described here. I heard nothing at Yakutat, however, to indicate that com- petitive potlatching would be utilized to shame him for his mistakes. While some dances, especially those performed by vigorous young men in wooden headdresses (cAki'At) or in heavy wooden crest hats must have been strenuous and required considerable muscular control, they were not, I gather, acrobatic displays (p, 633), All dances must perforce have been restrained, either by the cramped space in the house, or by the heavy ceremonial garments. Even though the women were said to dance fast to the beat of the Killerwhale Drum, so that they sweated in their handsome woolen broadcloth button blankets, these enveloping robes did not permit much freedom of motion. Certainly a woman could not really "jitterbug" when wrapped in a bolt of calico (p. 634). A Chilkat blanket also effectively pinioned the arms, (It is probably significant that the shaman stripped naked or practically so for his performances. Yet since some of these involved dancing in a mask without eyeholes, around a fiire, one wonders how 568 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 carefuUy formalized and controlled may actually have been these seemingly ecstatic exhibitions of spiritual frenzy.) Most "dances" seem to have been performed on the same spot, without stepping away, the body swaying to and fro, the arms moving from side to side, and the knees dipping. Some "dances" apparently took place behind a blanket so that only the moving crest hat or headdress could be seen. Potlatch guests even "danced" sitting down as they feasted. In singing and dancing, emphasis was upon flawless performance. To make a mistake was shaming, exposing one to the horrors of ridicule. It was for this reason that leaders and performers armed themselves with magical precautions and 'medicines' so that errors might pass unnoticed and the occasion be proclaimed success- ful (p. 616). This is why the Thngit beheved that a dancer could die as a result of the strain: "The people's looks have killed him" (Swanton, quoted p, 615), Mistakes, however, could be more than humihating: those made by the 'deer' during the course of a peace ceremony were breeches of taboo which might lead to renewal of the trouble. So the hostage's feehngs had to be calmed and the iU effects of any mistake neu- trahzed in advance or wiped out by the ritual cry, "Waaai!" (pp, 598, 599, 602). Dancing made one forget one's sorrows. This institu- tion was supposedly initiated by the unfortunate Haida (?) chief who had lost everything by gambhng but who became happy again after dancing with the grouse and other birds (Swanton, 1909, Tale 31, p, 139), The Yakutat people may not have known this story, but it expresses their attitudes towards the dance. Categories of Songs Although Swanton recorded 103 songs on wax cyhn- ders (now deposited in the Folklore Division of the Library of Congress) and transcribed the texts of most of these, he did not attempt a systematic classification of them. "Several songs refer to myths and are explained by them, and there are a few shamans' songs, but by far the larger number were composed for feasts or in song contests between men who were at enmity with each other" (1909, p, 390). On the whole this is true of the Yakutat songs, except that I recorded very few that expressed ill feeling or that suggested song contests between personal enemies. Not represented in my collection of recordings, unfortunately, are songs to dead animals, of which there is said to have been a traditional song for each major species hunted. These were supposedly learned from the animals themselves, as were the proper rites to be observed in showing respect to the dead creatures (p. 362). Swanton (1909, p, 392) recorded two of these, one for the dead bear (Song 12), and the other for the groundhog (Song 11). The last was evidently sknilar to that sung formerly at Yakutat (p. 367), These ceremonies for dead animals are now obsolete and the songs forgotten. While gambhng songs were sung, especially for the Stick Drawing Game, the Hand Game, Quoits (pp. 554-557) and perhaps for others, I did not hear any of these songs. Suice the first two of these games probably reached Yakutat from the south (introduced by parties of sea otter hunters?), I would hazard that the accompanying songs were foreign (Tsimshian?, Haida? or even Chinook jargon?). The other types of songs distinguished by my informants, and of which I have examples, are sib songs, marching and dancmg songs, peace songs, funny songs, songs for children, shamans' songs, and the large body of 'Haida mouth songs,' There are also recordings of a few songs that are diflQcult to classify. SIB SONGS 'Songs about the sib' (na§a ci), often called "tribal songs" or "national songs," are sung by the hosts at a potlatch. Because wealth is laid out by the singers to be given away, these songs are considered very valuable, almost sacred. The eight with which the potlatch begins (p, 631) are designated as 'akitc, a word which ap- parently means 'its wing,' perhaps suggestive of the "eight bones" symbohc of the body (see p. 761). Boas (1917, p. 144) suggests that kite is a verb connected with the house-building feast, citing the translation 'they danced the house together' given by Swanton (1909, p. 336.4) for aodu'wakltc. The latter also gives the term kitcdaciyt' or "nodding-of-heads-to-and-fro" for the first part of a Kagwantan mourning song, sung while the corpse is being cremated and the women, with long swaying ear pendants, dance around the pyre. One of my informants used the word 'akitc da ciyi as the equivalent for any mourning song, translating it as "crying for the dead songs," It is not, however, clear whether the term designates a special class of such songs, or only the group of eight that are sung at funerals, house dedications (in honor of the dead), or at the beginning of potlatches (pp. 608, 619, 631). The most valued sib songs are ancient, traditional ones, 'long ago songs' (ttak'' ci), the origins of which are ascribed to myth or legendary history. Some of these were believed composed by the sib totem (Beaver, Golden Eagle, Raven, Petrel), or by an ancient sib IN THREE PARTS RECREATION AND ART 569 hero (Qakex^E, Lqayali'', GOSUA'" or others, associ- ated usually with the acquisition of the crest. Other traditional mourning songs were composed by sup- posedly historical characters: the Gmexqwan ancestors of the K'^ackqwan, including Gudilta', or Wuckika, or the CAnkuqedi woman mourning her relatives lost on the Yukon, or the Teqwedi men who suffered ship- wreck because they took the green paint stone. Of presumably more recent date are Kacken's lament for those slain by the CtA.tqwan (1852?), or the K^'ackqwan dirge for a drowned son (pre-1875). (For the range of subjects and occasions for singing, see pp. 631-633.) Many of these songs associated with sib emblems (named hats, blankets, canes, house screens, house posts, or canoes) are traditional and presumed ancient. These are all named for the crest object, as for example, 'Song for [or about] the Crane Canoe' (dul yAk^ da ciyi), or 'Song for the Thunder[bird] Blanket' (xetl xu da ciyi), or 'Song for the Raven Post' (yel ga^ da ciyi). However, sib potlatch songs, sung when dedicating a house, displaying a house screen, or mourning a dead relative, may also be recent compositions, I recorded modem examples dating from 1907, 1909, and 1918. These songs are described as 'sad songs' (tuwunuk'^ da ciyi), or 'heavy songs' (yAdAl ci), either because of their manifest content or their associations. They are 'songs that tell about feelings' (tuwunik datx ci). Lastly among sib potlatch songs are the eight that are sung by the hosts just before the distribution of property (p. 634). I have recorded only one example, specificaUy identified as such, the Killerwhale Drum Song of the Teqwedi, which is presumed to be very ancient. I also know that songs for the same purpose have been composed in modern times (see that men- tioned for the potlatch in Bear House, 1905). What distinguishes these from the preceding sib songs is that they have joyous hvely dance tunes. Almost aU sib songs have Thngit words. The only exceptions are some of those belonging to the K'^ack- qwan, since they were composed by their Athabaskan- speaking ancestors, so that the words are in Atna. The CAnkuqedi also have four Athabaskan songs given them by the Aiyan Indians of Fort Selkirk on the Yukon. Sib songs are not only sung by those givmg a pot- latch, but the one captured as a 'deer' will sing his own sib song as part of the peace ceremony (pp, 599, 601-602). WALKING, RESTING, AND DANCING SONGS In sharp contrast to the sib mourning songs, are those sung by guests at a potlatch. They sing these as they come to the house where they will be enter- tained, and especially after they have been paid. Then the change in tempo and mood from the preced- ing laments is signalled by the last dance songs in- troduced by the hosts, *'Walking songs" or "marching songs," called walk- ing along songs' (yAUAt da ciyi) or 'songs going to the house door' (hit kAwul da ci) are sung by guests when coming by canoe to a potlatch (p. 611), when they walk or dance into the house of their hosts, and when they leave it. "Resting" or 'sitting down songs' (qin da ciyi) are sung as they pause at the door, but especiaUy while they are feasting after the distribution of potlatch wealth. One informant said they were the same as the "walking songs" but another made a distinction between them. 'Dancing songs' (I'ex da ciyi) are used for the dances given by the guests after the potlatch, to thank their hosts and to cheer them. Some of these dances involve dramatic imitations of animals or persons (see pp. 624-627). What distinguishes these songs is that they are aU of foreign origin (Gunana da ci), adopted from the ahen peoples with whom the guests sibs have had the most contact, usuaUy through trade or intermarriage. The songs are traditional, but they are also caUed "popular songs" (lAdju ci), for they may, on appro- priate occasions, be sung by any sib. Thus, the Teqwedi, who trace their origin to the far south, use Tsimshian songs, including some introduced into Yakutat only in the 1880's. The Kagwantan from Sitka via Dry Bay also have a Tsimshian song. The K^ackqwan, on the other hand, have Atna walking, resting, and dancing songs, traditionally ones their ancestors had used at Chitina or had composed as they crossed the glaciers to the coast. (One song was said to have been "captured" from the Chugach Eskimo.) The Qalyix-Kagwantan and Tcicqedi use the same Atna songs. Similarly, the sibs of Dry Bay, primarily the Tluk'^axAdi and CAnkuqedi, but also the long-resident Tl'uknaxAdi and Box-House Kagwantan, have Atha- baskan songs obtained from the Southern Tutchone on the upper Alsek. The Tl'uknaxAdi also have some from the Qunana of the upper Taku. The words of the Southern Tutchone songs are chiefly in Athbaskan, but at least one is in Thngit, for the Athbaskans at Klukshu speak Tlingit. Some of these songs are said to have been sung for joy when canoes had safely descended the Alsek River, under the ice bridges (pp. 87, 628). Sibs of the two moieties in the same area may sing each other's songs of this kind, for they are fathers and sons to each other, it was explained. The alinements of songs are given here from the point of view of visitors coming to potlatches at Yakutat, However, when 570 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 guests in southeastern Alaska, any Yakutat or Dry Bay sib may draw upon the repertory of the whole area. Thus, Tl'uknaxAdi guests at the potlatch given in Sitka (in 1900?) to honor the memory of Chief Minaman (DaqusEtc) who had died there of poisoned whiskey, sang and danced in imitation of the Copper River Indians, because the other local guests used Tsimshian dances (MJ), Now the Thngit in southeast- ern Alaska sing these songs, for a Yakutat informant told me that he had heard some Copper River songs on a broadcast from Juneau, The rhythms of these foreign songs, especiafly the Athabaskan ones, are in a fast, hvely tempo, yet it becomes obvious after one has heard Copper River songs rendered by the Atna themselves, or native singers at Klukshu on the headwaters of the Alsek River, that the Yakutat versions have been slowed down. Conversely, the Atna and Southern Tutchone speed up in their own somewhat jerky style the songs they have learned from the Tlingit. "Drinking songs" may well have been sung by guests at the feasts following the potlatch proper. At least I was told that Old Fox of Teslin, last of the YAnyedi song composers, had made a drinking song which the YAnyedi guests from Taku sang at the potlatch given by his Tl'uknaxAdi father in Sitka in 1900. This song was not recorded. However, we do have two Athabaskan drinking songs from Klukshu, one of which has Tlingit words (1954, 2-1-J and 2-1-K; pp. 1361, 1362). A drinking song was also composed by Frank Italio(?) (1952, 1-2-C; p, 1361). I should note that I heard of no songs like those recorded by Swaton (1909, Songs 28 and 29) which were used by guests when they felt that they had not received enough property. The words of these two are Tsimshian and are said to refer to the Eagle Hat and to the Qunaqadet Hat, both undoubtedly sib emblems, PEACE SONGS 'Songs for the deer' (kuwakan da ciyi) were composed and sung by members of the sib that had captured as hostage or 'deer' a member of the sib with whom they were making peace. The new ceremonial name given to the hostage is mentioned or alluded to in the words of the song, which is sung by his captors while he dances to it. Since at Yakutat, peace ceremonies are held only between sibs in opposite moieties, the hostages are addressed as sib-children of their captors in these songs. The latter belong to the literary style of the so-caUed 'Haida mouth songs,' Peace songs become associated with the individuals for whom they were composed, and after their deaths might be sung by their own sib in their memory. A number of peace songs, composed at Sitka, Dry Bay, and Yakutat were re- corded (for further information about these songs and the accompanying dances, see pp. 599-604). A special "peace song" (for which I did not obtain the native term) was composed by each of the two groups of rival sibs who were invited as guests to a potlatch (pp. 614, 620). Since these two groups be- longed to the same moiety, they could not sing to each other, but only to their hosts; yet they flattered each other by referring to the latter as the sib-children of their rivals. The only example recorded was composed by Dry Bay Chief George when his sib (Tl'uknaxAdi) were co-guests with the K'^ackqwan at a potlatch given by Jim Kardeetoo (Teqwedi, and child of K^ackqwan), The song was said to be 'about Kardeetoo' (Kayidatu dudatx) because he was one of the Ginexqwan-children for whom the song was composed. In the sentiments expressed, as well as in the literary and musical form, both types of peace song are similar to love songs. FUNNY SONGS There are a series of traditional songs, allegedly com- posed by Raven himself or referring to his adventures, that are sung as part of the happy festivities at a peace ceremony (pp, 601-602). They would be sung by the wives of the captors, while their husbands danced with mock weapons, hence the name, 'song of the wooden tassels' (kuwAlAkAnki da ciyi). I have recorded a number of such humorous Raven songs, and even though I cannot be sure of the range of occasions on which they might be sung, they have all been grouped together. Thus, one informant denied that they ever would be sung at potlatches, and be- longed only to peace ceremonies, yet one song, "Raven and the Mussel People," was specificaUy mentioned as having been sung by the K'^ackqwan when they were potlatch guests, "How Raven Became Drunk," com- posed by Dry Bay Chief George, was ambiguously described as "a dance song for parties," "Raven Loses His Nose" was recorded by Swanton (1909, Song 1, p. 390) as "used at all kinds of dances," Other funny songs suitable for peace making were the traditional teasing songs for children (see below, p. 571). It may be significant that, except for childrens' teasing songs, all of the funny songs are about Raven. There are none, to my knowledge, about the totems of the same or the opposite moiety: Coho or Humpback Salmon, Frog, Owl, etc., or about Eagle, Wolf, Bear, or Killerwhale, This is consistent with the way these other totemic characters appear in myths. None is represented as funny except Raven himself, even though they may figure in the same stories as Raven, When I asked if there were funny songs about Wolf or Bear, for example, my informants were clearly at a loss. Some IN THREE PARTS RECREATION AND ART 571 thought that there ought to be (perhaps because it would be "fairer" if the Eagle-Wolf moiety could claim some), but no one was able to cite a single one, not even one heard long ago. It is obvious that both moieties sing the same songs, laughing at or with Raven. "There are funny songs about Raven because he created the world"—and got into trouble so doing, was implied. In Tlingit mythology there is only one trickster. SONGS FOR CHILDREN There are at least two kinds of songs for children. The first are the traditional "teasing songs" which anyone may sing to a loved child. Swanton (1909, pp. 392-393, Songs 13 to 16) has recorded four of these. What gives them their specific character is that the child is indirectly teased by accusing the child's joking relatives of naughty acts. These individuals are specif- ically named, while the child for whom the song is sung is not. The inclusion of actual personal names is a marked departure from normal Tlingit poetic style and may be the feature which gives these songs a certain risque character. When I was recording one, sung by a woman as if it were to her Kagwantan-yAtxi grand- children, the name of a particular woman, the children's joking relative, had to be omitted and that of another woman substituted, because someone pointed out that the first old lady might be offended. When these songs are adapted for peace making festivities the appropriate sib-chUdren designation is used instead of personal names, "Pet songs" are composed by parents or grandparents for little children just learning to walk or talk. From the few examples transcribed, the words are apt to include references to the child as a "stinker," because he or she has presumably dirtied himself, or as "tiny," and baby talk expressions may be included. The tunes are lively in rhythm and simple in melody, being sometimes little more than a jigging, singsong recitation of a few phrases. "LuUabies" were mentioned but none was recorded. Interestingly enough, one was said to be an Eyak song, learned from the seals and sea otters long ago. Another was for a baby boy, in which the child's own name is mentioned. This was once sung in the ANB Hall (ui a show to raise money) by three men and by a woman holding a doU. SHAMANS' SONG 'Songs for shamans' ('ixlj da ciyi) are supposed to be the songs of the shamans' familiar spirits (yek). The shaman-to-be indicates that he has become inspired by singing the spirit's song, or by falhng into a trance when his sibmates invoke the spkit by suiging it (p. 675). The song may be obtained by the novice when he goes 26.5-517—72—vol. VII, pt. 2——4 into the woods on his quest; on his return, he teaches it to the men of his sib (p. 681). Thereafter, at seances, the song wiU be sung by his principal assistant, his drummer, and his fellow sibmates using tapping sticks, while the shaman himseK dances, shaking his rattles or brandishing his dance wands (p. 702). The more often his songs are sung, and the larger the group singing them, the stronger becomes his power. A shaman may control several spirits, each of whom has its own song. As the spirits are inherited (usuaUy within the sib), so the songs are inherited and tradi- tional. Since many spirits are Tsimshian, the words of their songs are in that language, and the tunes are also foreign. In a few other songs, the spirit speaks in Tlingit, and in the first person. These songs are readily distinguished by their often irregular rhythm and rapid beat, and they may lack the clear form of refrain and two stanzas. Shaman's songs are not always reserved for serious seances, but may be sung for dramatic masked dances at potlatches, in which the spirit (yek) of the hosts' sib is imitated (pp, 628-629), Now that there are no longer shamans at Yakutat, their songs have become sib mourning songs, to be sung at potlatches to lament the deceased shamans of the line. HAIDA MOUTH SONGS By far the greatest number of songs recorded were by known composers, the earhest of whom had died in 1888, while others were still making new songs in 1954. With a very few exceptions, these compositions were aU addressed to members of the opposite moiety, most often as the children of specific sibs. 'Love songs' (qusixan da ciyi), 'sad songs' (tuwunuk^ da ciyi), and 'songs that teU about feelings' (tuwunik datx ci) all faU within this general category. So do most of the songs recorded by Swanton. I do not know whether I should include here the songs which my informants termed in Enghsh "drinking songs" (see p. 570). Most of these modern composi- tions might weU be sung at drinking parties, and some love songs refer to drink. It is also hard to place the sad song ascribed to the slave, Gucdutin (1954, 5-2-B; p. 1360). Two songs composed for special occasions, one about the Tsimshian word "kin^ii" that averted a fight (1952, 3-1-C; p. 1312), and the other dedicated to Mount Saint EUas for sending sunshine to the ANB Convention m Yakutat ha 1931 (1954, 5-1-A; p. 1303), are also hard to classify. While Gucdutin is clearly not a member of the Raven moiety, this does not seem to influence who may sing his song, as far as I could tell. The last two songs, like the "drinking songs," are not addressed to members of the opposite moiety. On the other hand, at least one love song, specifically desig- nated as a 'Haida mouth song' is also called a "popular 572 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 song," just because it is not addressed to sib-children and there is no mention of moiety affiliations. This is Jimmy Jackson's Sawmill Song (1954, 7-2-D; p. 1305). We cannot say, therefore, that all modern songs about personal feelings are addressed to sib-chUdren, although most (if not all?) seem to be of the type des- ignated as 'Haida mouth songs.' For the most part also they conform to the pattern of refrain, first stanza sung twice, and second stanza sung twice. A few have only one stanza, perhaps because they were never finished; and a few have added a third. The majority could be designated as love songs, or at least songs expressive of tender feelings and affection. A Haida love song, introduced in 1900 from Kasaan, was sung as an example of the style that the Tlingit had copied (1954, 7-2-E), I was told that before the Haida style was imitated the Yakutat Tlingit had love songs of their own, but I learned nothing further about them. We cannot limit precisely the occasions on which songs in this general group would be sung. Thus, peace songs, whether for a 'deer' or for a potlatch, are 'Haida mouth songs,' Others were composed as dance songs, to display the abilities of the young men of the host's sib when they gave a potlatch (p. 633, Skin Canoe George's song, unrecorded). After the composer's death, his songs might be sung as dirges at his funeral or in his memory at a potlatch. Some songs expressing personal feelings have already become part of the sib's repertory of mourning songs. These are by B, B. BUly or Fanny Williams (1954, 3-1-G), Dry Bay George (1954, 6-2-G), Natskik (1952, 6-1-A), and Nishka (1952, 3-1-A). Songs addressed to sib-children have acquired a new function since the founding of the ANB. In south- eastern Alaska, I was told, they are sung at ANB parties, and if any one of those addressed fails to rise and dance to the song, he is fined. My informants were thinking of introducing this custom into Yakutat as a way of raising money for their chapter. In the appended lists of songs recorded or mentioned (cf. Appendix), all those ascribed to modern known composers are listed under their names (in alphabetical order). Here too will be found references to their other compositions which may be of types different from the 'Haida mouth songs.' Poetic Imagery in Songs Sib mourning songs, especially the more recent compositions, peace songs, love songs, and a few others of uncertain classification, give us a chance to explore Tlingit versification. Of these, it is the 'Haida mouth songs' that express the widest range of personal feelings and in which poetic imagery is most highly developed. The phrasuag is always more or less metaphorical, and to understand the meanmg one must always keep in mind the sib and moiety affiliations of the composer (or singers) and of those to whom or about whom the song is sung. These, of course, would be known to the audience, who would also be aware of the particular circumstances that had prompted the song. It must be remembered that mourning songs are about the dead of one's own sib, OccasionaUy, members of the opposite moiety are begged to show pity. Other- wise, they are not mentioned. Nor can they be mourned in the same way, even though one has lost a father or spouse, or a man has lost a child; however, as we shall see, grief at their death may find a different mode of expression in song. Living members of one's own sib or moiety are not addressed in song; one sings only to one's opposites. A 'Haida mouth song' is composed to or about a specific individual. Everyone knows who this is, even though informants have occasionally disagreed on the identity. But this person is never mentioned by name in the song. Rather, the song is usuaUy addressed to the group of sib-children to whom he or she belongs, and this is always a group in the moiety opposite that of the composer and singer. Thus a Raven composer sings to Tl'uknaxAdi-yAtii, to Tluk'^axAdi-yAtxi, or to Ginexqwan-yAtxi. One in the Eagle-Wolf moiety addresses his or her songs to Kagwantan-yAtxi, Teqwedi-yAt:^i, Tcicqedi-yAtxi, or CAnkuqedi-yAtxi, that is, to children whose fathers are members of the singer's own moiety. Moreover, the group is always designated with the distributive form (-x), a kind of plural, as if to suggest that any member of the group could stand for the one being wooed, rebuked, lamented, or entreated. Always a specific individual is implied, and so strong is this convention that an informant, on hearing my song, was certain that it expressed romantic sentiments for some Wolf man, and tried various means to discover who he might be. The peace song is also addressed to sib-children, and even though it contains or alludes to the new ceremonial name given to the hostage, this name at the time is only a reference to some object symbolic of good will, even though it may later become the recipient's common appellation. A single song may be addressed to two (or even three) persons. One may be the husband who is unkind, the other his brother who consoles. Or, the persons may be quite unrelated. In this case each of the stanzas may mention a different group of sib-children. Something similar is true of peace songs, since usually several hostages wiU be taken from each side; if not, each stanza IN THREE PARTS RECREATION AND ART 573 of the song will refer to the different names given to the same 'deer' (pp. 599-600). A similar anonymity covers the composer. Thus, although he or she may refer to 'my feelings,' or say that *I am longing for you,' for example, he never men- tions himself by name. The only exception is Gucdutin, 'Visible Dorsal Fin [of the KiUerwhale],' whom my in- formant beheved had been a runaway slave belonging to her grandfather, but whom Swanton identifies as a man of the Wrangell Nanyaa'yt sib (1954, 5-2-B; p. 473; Swanton 1909, pp. 406-470, Song 68). "Pity poor Gucdutin," he sings, "he wiU die before he reaches Victoria." Even here one notes the tendency to refer to one's self in the third person. We should also emphasize that the composer never specifically indicates his own sib affiliation, nor that of the person addressed. (Sib- chUdren claiming the same fathers may, of course, be- long to more than one maternal sib.) On the other hand, moiety affihations are most commonly specified. Thus the composer and singer may refer to himself or herself as 'this Raven' (ce yel, di yel, ceyAdi yel), using archaic or unusual demonstra- tives, or as 'your Raven' ('i yeli [singular] or yi yeli [plural]. His opposites, no matter what their sib or specific totem, are sunply 'the WoK' (di gutc or yAdi gutc). Often one doesn't know whether to translate these expressions as "Oh, Wolf," or "these Wolf people," or as "your Ravens," Conversely, Kagwantan, Teqwedi, or CAnkuqedi, singing to Tl'uknaxAdi, Tluk'^axAdi or K'^ackqwan, sing as 'your Wolf to 'the Raven.' Of course, other sib totems may be mentioned in traditional sib potlatch songs, such as the Frog (1954, 2-2-A or 6-2-A; p. 1164), the Thunderbkd (1952, 2-1-F; 1954, 5-2-E; and 5-2-F; pp. 1171, 1172, 1173), and the Murrelet (1954, 7-1-B and 6-1-F; pp. 1175, 1167). (As already noted the use of personal names in songs is avoided, except when a child's joking relatives, always older persons?, are mentioned by name, but this is done in private.) The desired emotional effect is, I believe, heightened by not addressing one's opposite as a member of his sib, but as the child of his father's. Thus, if this father's sib is the singer's own, the mode of address serves to express such tender and romantic sentiments as the affection of a father, a paternal aunt, a sweetheart or spouse, since the latter is preferentially sought m the father's line. One may even so address one's own father, since the smger and his paternal grandfather may be men of the same sib, so m effect a man's father can be considered as his own beloved 'son.' If the sib mentioned in the song is that of another in one's own moiety, one may still be addressmg a father, spouse, sweetheart, or friend; furthermore the fathers of these sib-children are pleased by this reference to theu- offspring. Conversely, because people love and take pride in their fathers, they are particularly flattered when addressed as their father's children, and when formally sung to as such, are supposed to make some return gift (cf. de Laguna, 1952, p. 11), (This last was demonstrated to me when I sang my song to Tl'uknaxAdi-children to a Wolf moiety woman of that group whom I chanced to meet on the dock at Sitka. She promptly accepted me as a paternal niece—she was also married to a Tl'uknaxAdi man—and gave me a little doU as a gift,) Songs to sib-children are, therefore, particularly appropriate for expressing friendly feelings towards one's opposites (as in a peace ceremony), or indirectly toward a rival sib in one's o-wn moiety (as when the latter are rival guests at a potlatch). The individuals who may be addressed or referred to in such songs are fathers, father's brothers and sisters, husbands, husband's nephews, wives, sweet- hearts (usually reluctant or unrehable), brothers- in-law and sisters-in-law, and friends of one's own sex in the opposite moiety. The sentiments expressed— longing for, loving, gently rebuking, appealing to for sympathy—generally give no clue to the sexes of composer and the one addressed. Perhaps for this reason they may aU be caUed "love songs." In a very few mourning songs an appeal is made directly to the dead members of one's own sib. Thus, the Kagwantan man, Kacken, mourns his relatives slain by the CiAtqwan (1954, 3-1-D; p. 1168). "It's your own fault. Wolf, you wounded yourselves. Always longing for you, my uncles, I want to dream about you." Or Kardeetoo, knowing his forebears are dead at Diyaguna'Et, smgs (1954, 5-1-C; p. 1167): "Never- theless, for your house, I wish you were here [to help me], my uncles." Just as the singer may refer to himself in the third person as "this WoK," so he may exclaun (1954, 1-1-E; p. 1308): "Let all the Wolves become drunk [with love of Teqwedi-children]!" Or, when contem- plating death, he may sing (1954, 3-1-G; p. 1313): "The world is rolling around for everybody, so let's not love our fives too much," meaning that the old should yield theu- places to the young (presumably including his own relatives among those whom he exorts. An unusual mourning song, apparently old, seems to violate the ordinary rules. It was composed by a Wuckitan man [Angoon Eagle-WoK sib] as a lament for his dead brother, an artist, symbolized by his sib's Murrelet Cane which was lost. It is not this identification of the dead with a sib crest heirloom which is unusual, but rather the fact that the Mur- relet is apparently addressed directly and told that the Raven is grievmg for him (1954, 7-1-B; p, 1175). 574 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 Thus, except for pet songs made by mothers for their own children, it would appear that the only members of one's own sib or moiety to be addressed or mentioned in songs are the dead. And the most valued songs are those that lament them. The theme of death is indeed a very common one, even in love songs. One is often reminded of the death of one's relatives, and therefore turns to one's opposites for sympathy. It is only their love that can give one strength to live. Or, one would be happy to die with them. "What Raven wiU pity this Wolf? Give me your hand for the last time, I want to die with you," This is a common romantic theme. Yet love never finds a physical expression more intimate than the handclasp on the deathbed. Any loneliness or misfortune asks for consolation in song. The faithless lover may be reprimanded, the dead spouse or dead father rebuked for having deserted one. The bitter words of a brother-in-law are enough to drive a man to suicide. Or love is hke liquor; it makes one dizzy. "Let us drink together, and pledge each other in a single song," "One cannot drink enough of love to be satisfied," There are other songs that seem to refer only to di-mking: "Come back you Wolf, Let's get drunk! The Raven is crying just for liquor," Features of the landscape, especially the mountains, remind one of the dead, and for a moment the rocks standing on the sandflats look as if they might be one's relatives returning ahve. One traditional song ascribed to Qakex'^tE refers to a similar optical illusion (1952, 1-2-A; p, 1158). The rolling of the world symbohzes the passing of hfe. However, in the song for Mount Samt Ehas (1954, 5-1-A; p. 1303), the mountain is joyfuUy addressed: "My grandfather's mountain, you made the Southeast Alaska Sisterhood happy [by giving good weather], so you must be happy, too," There is no question but that the land of one's fathers' sib and especiaUy that of one's own uncles and grandfathers has great emotional appeal. The Yakutat man leaving home hates to see the mountains disappear behind hun (1952, 3-1-A; p. 1310). "It is not Raven's town 1 weep for, but my grandfather's town [or country]," sang the homesick slave (1954, 5-2-B; p, 1360), Although I am sure that many persons derive an esthetic pleasure from looking at the mountains, forests, and sea, the beauties of nature are never described in song. Humor, of course, appears in the funny songs re- fen-ing to Raven and in the children's teasmg songs. Yet other than the last, there seem to be no songs that exploit the possibUities of the joking relationship obtaining between children of the same sib. The only apparent exception is a song composed by one man to the wife of his joking relative. This was said to have been kept secret from his own wife. The two women, being wives of joking relatives, would be expected to tease one another. The fun here was probably a purely private joke, for one woman could gloat that her joking relative didn't know that her husband had composed a love song to her. But the song itself was not funny. No doubt witty persons were able to utilize many seemingly serious or innocuous songs as veiled jibes. For example, B. A. Jack, who was credited a wit, is said to have convulsed and shocked the congregation by smging m church the hymn ''Wash me whiter than snow" (with Thngit words), in such a way as to imply that his joking relative sitting in the pew in front of him was a witch! One song, addressed to a young gu-1 by Dry Bay Chief George when he was old, involves a play on the word wudAcan,which is made to mean both 'the old man' and 'old age.' (1954, 7-1-C). "Why do you refuse the old man? Some day old age wiU come to you." This song is also unusual in not being addressed to sib-chUdren (although 'your Raven' speaks to 'this Wolf), and in lacking a second stanza although the single one is sung three times. In general, we can say that Yakutat songs are highly introspective. The composer refers constantly to his feelings ('ax tuwu, 'my insides'), and professes them to be happy and smiling if he can dream of the loved person or friend. Only one song seems to faU in the class of songs composed for contests between personal enemies, although many of those recorded by Swanton reproach one's opposites for delay in giving a potlatch (1909, Songs 18 to 21), or are "angry songs" that deride specific individuals for their faUings, The apparent dearth of such songs at Yakutat is particularly striking in view of the fact that shaming a rival or personal enemy in song was said to have been a common method of settling disputes and coUecting indemnities among the Eyak (Birket-Smith and de Laguna, 1938, pp. 144-145), The only comparable song recorded at Yakutat was the suicide song of Natskik (1952, 6-1-A; p, 1310), in which he reproached his brother-in-law for the latter's bitter words. It is now sung as a Tl'uknaxAdi mourning song. If other "angry songs" existed at Yakutat they may have been purposely left unrecorded, in order to avoid revival of old feuds. More texts, more accurately transcribed and trans- lated, would permit a fuUer exploration of Tlingit poetic imagery. Enough has been shown here, however, to indicate its general character. Acquiring and Composing Songs As we have seen, some songs are so old that their origins are lost in the mists of the past. They belong IN THREE PARTS RECREATION AND ART 575 to myth time, and are indeed sung by the narrator as he teUs the myth, as Frank Itaho sang Raven's songs about Daylight when teUing the stories of his adven- tures. There were probably more such musical inter- ludes in narratives than are now remembered—there were supposed to be two songs by Raven which Frank Italio did not sing: the first when Raven, in the whale, wishes it to drift ashore on a sandy beach; the second when he wishes for a high-class person to cut open the whale and release him. We should expect many such songs if Tlmgit, or especiaUy Yakutat, mythology was anything like that of the Eyak, of which Old Man Dude said that "aU the myths were supposed to be sung," and demonstrated with part of the Raven cycle (Birket-Smith and de Laguna, 1938, p. 246). Myths and tales of sib origins obviously suggest themes for musical elaboration. Some songs were supposedly learned from animals. These include the Eyak luUaby learned from seals and sea otters, and the songs to be sung to slain ani- mals. The most important animal songs are, of course, those given to a sib by its totem, such as the Lament of the Beaver, the Song of the Golden Eagle, and presumably Petrel's taunting song to Raven (KUler- whale Drum Song). We should note that this learning of songs is not aU one way; the song sparrows of Yakutat are imitating the happy voices of chUdren or the pet songs sung to them. Songs in foreign languages or those belonging to other Thngit tribes have been obtained as gifts, A Tsimshian song was part of the dowry of S'eltin when she married a Kagwantan man (1954, 3-1-B; p. 459); the Kagwantan of Chilkat gave one of their "tribal" mourning songs to the K^ackqwan of Yakutat along with a wife for Cada of Moon House (p. 527). Some Athabaskan dancing songs were obtained by the Dry Bay people (Tluk'^axAdi or CAnkuqedi?) when their men married a woman from Nuq'^ayfk (p, 489), who was named Duhan (1954, 6-2-E and 3-2-F; p, 1230). Songs may also be given away by potlatch guests from other towns, just as the Galyix-Kagwantan Steam Boat Song was brought from Katalla to Yakutat (p, 620), Some Athabaskan "drinking songs" (1954, 2-1-J and 2-1-K; pp. 1361-1362), sung at Dry Bay, had been given to the CAnkuqedi by their trade partners at Klukshu on the headwaters of the Alsek (p, 355). My informant who recorded two of these said she had first heard them m 1914, although they are undoubtedly older. The gift of songs, especially of valuable potlatch songs, may serve as indenmity to reestablish friendly relations. The Aiyan chief at Fort Selkirk on the Yukon would, according to Tlingit behef, have been responsible for the drownings of those who were going to his potlatch. Therefore, he gave the CAnkuqedi "four of his precious potlatch songs" in compensation (p, 249). In a somewhat simUar spirit of good wUl and contrition, the Tsimshian who had insulted Yakutat Chief George by seizing his sea otter, thereby nearly starting a fight, gave the Yakutat people a number of their songs "for forgiven- ness," to settle aU hard feelings (p. 286). The Haida love song (1954, 7-2-E; p. 1361) was purchased at Kasaan. Although there is no evidence that the Yakutat people ever adopted Russian church music, to which they were little exposed, they are very fond of Protestant hymns (Lutheran, Presbyterian, evangelical). Many of these are sung to Tlingit words, not only in church, but elsewhere, for pleasure. The happUy sad Memorial Day visit to the cemetery, to decorate the graves and picnic among them, is climaxed by singing aU the favorite hymns of the townspeople, before the crowd disperses to return home. The receptivity to foreign music is also shown by the pleasure with which the Yakutat people listen to American popular music over the radio; they play it themselves for dances, and one Yakutat youth composed a very good dance tune in modern style which he taught the local Indian orchestra to play. A number of recent Tlingit songs seem to reflect the in- fluence of our music, but this is certainly not true of aU. The song composers of recent years who are men- tioned with the greatest respect were Dry Bay Chief George (Tl'uknaxAdi, 1850?-1912); Bhnd Dave Dick (CAnkuqedi of Dry Bay, who died between 1909 and 1916); Jimmy Jackson (1861-1948) and Blind Sampson O'Shaw (1866-1948), both K^ackqwan of Yakutat. Dry Bay Chief George and Blind Sampson were almost professional composers, in that they would make a song to fiU any request made to them. The chief certainly composed a great variety of songs—love songs, sad songs, "popular songs," peace songs, and potlatch songs. Those of Blind Dave Dick and of Sampson seem to have had an almost equaUy wide range of theme, to judge by the examples recorded. Song composition was a respected and admired accomplishment, and one in which the poor and lowly could excel as weU as the highborn. Yet at Yakutat there was no suggestion that it was better for chiefs and high-caste persons to leave this field to the common people, as was indicated in a story told by Katishan, chief of the Kasqiague'dl of Wrangell (Swanton, 1909, Tale 31, p, 141). In this story, a chief's son, with the help of 'medicine,' had become such a noted composer and dancer that he won the hearts of aU the girls and made aU the other youths jealous. Therefore his father announced: " *I do not think it is weU for a high-caste person to compose songs and be a dancer. They say that a person's 576 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 name wiU become very high and be kno^vn everywhere if he composes songs and becomes a dancer, but a chief's son's name is already high, and a chief's name is known everywhere. Why should he compose songs and dance to make it so? It is better that the poorer people should do this and make their names known in the world.' If the chief had not said this, people that compose songs and dance would be very scarce among us. . , . For no chief composes or dances without giving away a great deal of property," The imphcation is that the chief composes and per- forms only for the potlatches which he himself gives. The description of his dance has already been quoted (p. 567). We know that Dry Bay Chief George and Jim Kardeetoo (Teqwedi, 1862-1937), ranking leaders of their sibs, both composed songs for their potlatches, as did lesser house chiefs, Situk Jim (Teqwedi, died 1912), and John Nishka (K^ackqwan, died 1896). The most respected leader of the Teqwedi today, Olaf Abraham, is noted as a song composer, as was apparently his uncle, Skin Canoe George (1855-1900). However, I do not know whether Bhnd Dave Dick, Jimmy Jackson ("Gums"), or Blind Sampson were considered aristocrats. Some songs had to be made for specific occasions, such as peace ceremonies and potlatches. Others were often composed under the stress of emotion, when feehng lonely, homesick or grieving for absent loved ones, perhaps smarting under a rebuff, or even when afraid. Thus, D. S. Benson (Teqwedi, died 1930?) composed a song to Kagwantan-chUdren when he was on the Portland in a storm and people were frightened; Lituya Bay George (Xat'kA'ayi, 1854-1926) made a song after his face had been badly burned and he had been chased by bears (1954, 2-1-E; p. 1300). Many songs are said to have been composed on the deathbed. The lively tune for Jimmy Jackson's love song was supposed to have been inspired by the sound of the sawmUl where he was working, after his wife had left him. For this reason it is caUed the "SawmUl Song" (xacA kAtsku ^a ciyi, 'little saw mouth song,' 1954, 7-2-D; p. 1305). Olaf Abraham told me that he had made songs when he was out at fishcamp, and there was nothing for him to do after putting out his net in the morning untU it was time to lift it at night. The music came to him first, and then he fitted the words to it. He thought it was easier to make the music first and then find the words, than to make the words, especiaUy for two stanzas, and then try to compose a tune to fit them, as my difficulties with Thngit had forced me to do. However, when he was composing out by the river, sometimes part of the words came to him with the music, or even before it. The three compositions which he recorded seem to be in a more conservative style than other contemporary songs, Mrs, Chester Johnson (CAnkuqedi) also composed songs, but I do not know in what sequence the words and music came to her. It may be that for most persons without particular talents finding words was easier than making the tune. This is probably because, as I discovered personally, there are many stock phrases and sentiments which can be used and recombined, and these may equaUy weU apply to a lover, or to a member of one's own sex. For example, Frank Itaho had composed a song to his father. Dry Bay Chief George (Tl'uknaxAdi and Kagwantan-yAdi), yet when singing it with Minnie Johnson for the tape recorder, he was able on the spur of the moment to pay the latter a charming compliment by adapting the first stanza to a love song to Teqwedi- chUdren (1952, 2-1-H and 2-2-A; p. 1301). I suspect that a number of songs about which there is some uncertainty as to authorship (1954, 3-1-G; p. 1313; by B. B, BUly or his daughter-in-law, Fanny WiUiams), or as to the individual to whom it was dedicated (1954, 5-1-G; p. 1302), have been trans- formed in simUar fashion. Furthermore, I was told that Ckman put new words to an old tune (by Sampson or Nishka?) when singing about the Tsimshian word, kinliu (1952, 3-1-C; p. 1312). In the same way, Mrs. Chester Johnson used an old air in making a song for me (1954, 5-2-1; p. 1308). Thus, many persons could become song composers, so that the list of these is as long as that of the persons who sang for the recordings. Some songs were felt to have been inspired. Perhaps there is always something mysterious and inexphcable in artistic creation. Thus, songs may come in dreams, as when HUda Dick dreamed that Frank Itaho was playing the guitar and singuag the song (1954, 6-2-F; p. 1295). Swanton (1908, p. 459) also reports a simUar source of inspiration: "If a man dreamed that the carving on his house post started a certain song, im- mediately on awakening he started that song himself. If the owner of a house dreamed that a dead man started a song to his carved post, the house owner began singing it next morning as soon as he awoke." SimUarly, when she was only 11 years old, Emma EUis heard the first stanza of her sad song (1954, 3-1-F; p. 1296) in the waves for three nights after her father, mother, and grandfather had drowned; these were the voices of her relatives singmg to comfort her. The second stanza she composed some 5 years later after the death of her first husband, although she did not explain the exact cir- cumstances. The third, which offers a strUiing contrast in poetic effectiveness to the first two, was composed on the spot and sung to me as she held my hand to comfort me for the fire that had nearly burned down our house. Shamans' songs were, of course, inspired since they were the voices of the spirits, Shamanistic connections may also have had something to do with other composi- IN THREE PARTS RECREATION AND ART 577 tions, and magic is beheved effective. For example, in Katishan's story (Swanton, 1909, Tale 31, pp, 139-140), that great dancer, the Grouse, and the (Haida?) chief who learned to dance and compose songs were enabled to do so by virtue of 'medicine' obtained from a shaman. This consisted of the leaf of a swamp plant, an eagle's talons, foam from the edge of the rising tide, and a feather from the head of the Sohtary Sandpiper, also a "great dancer" (p. 44), aU put into a sack and tied to the top of a tree, where it would blow continually in the wind. However, although Dave Dick was the son of Gutcda, the famous Dry Bay shaman (p, 671), this fact was not specificaUy mentioned in connection with his artistic talents, Jim Kardeetoo also had some powers derived from his uncle, the shaman Tek-'ic (p, 719), yet he was not thought to be a good composer, even by his daugh- ter. We note that Blind Sampson composed a love song for Kardeetoo to sing (1954, 2-1-D; p, 1313). I would be inclined to wonder whether blindness, cataracts in the case of Dave Dick, and a congenital defect in that of Old Sampson, may not have forced their creative energies into song composition. For Dry Bay Chief George the case was different. Not only did he have a number of shamans among his forebears, and in fact took his two names, Qawusa and Qusun, from the Tluk'^axAdi shaman who was his paternal grandfather (p, 645), but he also had obtained from one of them a magic bone that enabled him to compose songs, "He's a composer. He's got a lot of them—sad songs, populars, peace songs. Whenever they teU him, 'We want a song,' he lay down someplace. He's got a bone. He lay down and he taps with it. If he wants a sad song, he just taps slow; if he wants a happy song or a dance song, he taps faster, and it comes to him." The bone was said to have been plain, that is, un- decorated, and was about 9 inches long. "That's Qutcda and them [shamans] got that thing, I guess it's some kind of mountain goat bone, . . . They got some- thing inside, I guess, some kind of flower [kayani, 'medicine']. When they look inside, there's nothing in there. That's that Indian doctor's present, Every- time it close to you—[the informant held an imaginary object to her ear]—you're going to hear that song in your mind; you start singing. That's the one he got it. Every time he got it, that bone, always hear it, that song. . . . Qawusa, he used to be good singer. Anyone could use this bone. For example, a son (not Frank Italio) did not beheve in its powers. " 'I don't beheve it, give it to me. I'm going to put it under my pUlow, so I can hear that song, the one I'm going to sing it.' "His father give it to him. He put it under his pUlow. Same night he hear that song. Next morning he got it," The informant sang this song but refused to record it without permission from the composer's widow, for she herself was not related to him. Not only did the son hear the music as he slept, but "that's the words, too, he hear it," Later, when the son inherited the bone after his father's death, he composed other songs, although none was sung to me for recording. Once when his daughter was grieving for an absent youth, "she stole that bone from her dad. Her boy friend went away to KataUa or some place. She stole that bone from her dad and went away to that secret place and tapped that. She was so lonesome. She composed a song." Appreciation of the beauty of music is perhaps best expressed by the foUowing description of an Atna song which I was never fortunate enough to hear. Perhaps it was never sung in Yakutat. "In Chitina, even if I'm the chief's nephew, if I done anything against the law, they're going to send me away. "See, it's a long vUlage, and I just walk away from here at one end to the other end, and I go away, and nobody sees me anymore. Maybe if I'm lucky, I find another vUlage. But they don't kUl me, "That's what happened when we [our ancestors] left the village. Lots of times it happened. "When I was westward I heard them singing a song one night in a pool room in Cordova. A man had a steel guitar. And it sounded so beautiful. I thought it was Hawaiian. I asked or they told me it was an Indian song, a Copper River Indian song. I was sur- prised. It had a wonderful tune. I used to hear the boys sing it. They would cry when they were drinking and singing, I asked them, 'Is that reaUy a Copper River song?' and they said 'Yes.' "It's about a young boy. He feU in love with a girl who was on the same side he was, and they're not supposed to look at each other or talk with one another. So they were going to send the young boy and the young girl away from the vUlage in opposite directions. And just before they were going to be parted, the boy and girl got together and talked somehow. As they walked away out of the vUlage, and he was going one way, he started to sing. She was going the other way, and she answered with just the same song. Their voices were heard fainter and fainter as they walked away, singing back and forth to each other. "In the song you can hear him sing, then she answers, and they get further and further apart. It's a beautiful sad song." War and Peace WAR Types of Wars The native histories of Yakutat, like the traditions of other Tlingit tribes, have many stories about wars and feuds. The most serious of these were international engagements, such as the intermittent warfare between the Chugach and the Eyak and Yakutat peoples, the conquest of the Eyak-speaking L'u^edi or Tlaxayik- Teqwedi by the Tl'uknaxAdi and Teqwedi Tlingit from southeastern Alaska, and the Tlingit attacks on the Russians at Sitka and Yakutat. Because these were wars between peoples of different cultural backgrounds, or because conquest was their aim, they could not be settled by ordinary Tlingit peace ceremonies. Wars between Tlingit tribes, such as the wars between the Yakutat-Dry Bay people and the ChUkat Thngit, or between the Dry Bay and Sitka people on the one side and the WrangeU Indians on the other, might be as bitterly fought and as costly of fives, but they were in most cases reaUy feuds between two rival sibs: Tl'uknaxAdi and QanAxtedi; Kagwantan and Nanya'ayi, for example; and between such groups peace could be reestabhshed through elaborate cere- monials. Perhaps some relatively minor incident had led to the first kiUings from which such intersib feuds developed. These were certainly more serious in character than if the trouble had arisen between people in the same community, for sibmates from other viUages and tribes might join the original group in- volved, and even other sibs from other tribes might side with one or the other principals. In such major wars there is clearly less desire to settle differences and make peace than when the contestants are members of the same local group, closely bound by ties of consanguinity and affinity. KiUings do, of course, break out in the same viUage, and in the past have led to feuds, but the many relatives linking both sides (especiaUy brothers-in-law, wives or married sisters, parents and chUdren) could rouse sentiment in favor of a settlement. Lastly, every native lawsuit, that is, every case of voluntary or involuntary manslaughter, or provocation to suicide, was caUed a "war," and was settled by the same kind of peace ceremony, even though nothing that we would recognize as fighting had occurred, and the principals involved might be husband and wife or father and son. I am not sure whether bodUy injury would require a peace ceremony, but if damages were not paid, the implied insult might lead to bloodshed. 580 Peace ceremonies or legal settlements can be in- stituted only between different sibs; troubles arising within a sib or lineage, such as disputes over inheritance of property, or jealousy over a woman (p. 251), may lead to kUlings, but the only solution of the difficulty is for the sib to split, and one group to move away. In fact, such cases are often cited as reasons for emigration and the founding of a new settlement and a new lineage. As long as jealous sibmates remain in the same community, witchcraft accusations are to be feared. Thus, the same word "war" (xa) may be used to designation international or intertribal conflicts (true wars), as weU as lesser feuds, for which the word 'trouble' (wut, 'adawiil, cf. Boas, 1917, p, 133; cf. p. 244, 'At-da-wutl) would be more appropriate. Major Wars and Military Alliances How serious wars or raids were conducted we can learn only from traditional histories, for none of my informants had witnessed anything of the kind. Yet such stories often revived old bitterness and, in former times, might lead to further fighting, or even today might be interpreted as provocation by someone who had been drinking. "These war stories they never teU much, because it's the revenge. They start war because some people they foolish and some people that do it for nothing, and there was no revenge to it, they never teU it. Olden times, when they told war stories it always ended with somebody picking up alder branches, whipping each other, and jumping in the cold water, and getting ready to revenge. That's why they never teU those war stories. That's why I don't know much about it." (Cf. p. 269.) In major wars against foreigners, several sibs in the same locality might form an aUiance for attack or defense. Thus, the Teqwedi leader, Xatgawet, was said to have aided his Galyix-Kagwantan father-in-law in repelling attacks by the Chugach or "Aleuts" (p. 254); at EJaight Island he was reported as siding with his K^ackqwan brother-in-law against the Tl'uk- naxAdi from Dry Bay (p, 246), and presumably also stood with him against "Aleut" raiders. In the war against the Tlaxayik-Teqwedi, the Tl'uknaxAdi were assisted by six other sibs (including the Tluk'^axAdi and XatkA'ayi from Dry Bay, and possibly the K'^ackqwan), aU eager to capture slaves and property. IN THREE PARTS WAR AND PEACE 581 The Bear House Teqwedi at Diyaguna'Et also helped the Tl'uknaxAdi to escape after their initial defeat, but did not join hi the fightuig (pp. 264-267). In Swanton's version of the war waged by the Tl'uknaxAdi of Gusex (Dry Bay) and Grouse Fort (Hoonah) agamst the GanAxtedi of ChUkat, the former had as alhes the Raven Decitan (Angoon) and Tl'enedi (Auk), and the Eagle-Wolf TcukAnedi (Hoonah), aU groups from whom the GanAxtedi had previously taken slaves. Later, the Tl'uknaxAdi purchased the help of the KiksAdi (Sitka), DAqdentan (Hoonah), and "other famUies" with gifts of coppers (see pp, 274-275 for sum- mary of Swanton, 1909, Tale 32), It was also said that the Tl'uknaxAdi had hired another sib with little coppers to fight for them, and that it was actuaUy these people who defeated the L'u±dei of Situk River (p. 269). In the massacre of the WrangeU people (Nanya'ayi) at Sitka in 1852, the local Kagwantan were helped by their sibmates from Chilkat (Swanton, 1908, legend for pi. LV, h), and also by their Raven sons. The Kagwantan leader of this massacre was a youth from Gusex, who was assisted by his Raven "Kagwan- tan-sons" (p. 283), The defeat of the Russians at Yakutat was ascribed to the Tlaxayik-Teqwedi, led by Tanux, He was helped by his K'^ackqwan brother-in-law, although the rest of K'^ackqwan remained out of the fight on the decision of their chief at Nessudat (pp, 234, 260, 264). According to Russian sources (p. 170-176), a number of sibs from Yakutat and Akwe River and the Dry Bay area, as weU as the KiksAdi of Sitka and many other Tlingit groups, were involved in the attacks and plots against the Russians in southeastern Alaska, Yakutat, and Prince WiUiam Sound. I have not, however, been able to identify the actual sibs that participated, nor those sibs or lineages that remained friendly to the Russians. It is clear, however, that it is not the local community as a whole, or the tribe (qwan) as such, that makes war or peace, but the sib (na), or a group of sibs. At the same time, one of these aUied sibs wiU probably provide the leader and the bulk of the combatants, whUe those associated with them wUl do so on the basis of kinship and community friendship, enhanced by gifts of coppers, by hatred of a common enemy, or by a desu-e to share in the fruits of victory. Causes for War The major causes for war as indicated m the stories told at Yakutat were the desu-e for slaves, for captives to hold for ransom, for booty, rivah-y over the rights to sib crests, jealousy over women, and desu-e for revenge for previous kiUings or abuse of a helpless person. As Swanton explained it (1908, p. 449): "Revenge for the death of some one for whom no payment had been made and desire to obtain slaves in order to increase the power of the chief and his clan were the commonest incentives to war," One informant told me that if a widow refused to marry a member of her dead husband's sib, "and marries outside the tribe [sib]—that means war." Another informant stressed that the Yakutat Tlingit did not aUow bad men to go around kUling for no reason. Men went to war, he said, if someone faUed to show proper respect for their sisters. "That's the only time they have a war. If they don't—that's a coward tribe," He also stated that fighting might occur over disputed hunting territory. On the other hand, the "Aleuts" or Chugach were bad people, and perpetual enemies because they used to come into Indian territory to hunt sea otters, even before Russian days, to take slaves, or simply to kUl (pp, 213, 256-258). "Those who came from westward were our enemies. They were caUed Gut'ei, But the ones who came from the land were our friends, Xaganayi [xa-ga 'for war,' nayi 'people-of'?]—that's the people that are going to quarrel with us. Our friends we caU 'ax xoni [p. 485]. . . . It's pretty hard to believe. It's our friends who climb over the mountains, mountains, mountains, to reach us from down south [i.e., Athabaskans coming south over the mountains]. They help us to fight the enemy. But the ones that are coming to fight us come in skin boats. Some of them are smaU, and they caU them 'kayak,' And the other ones—I forgot what they caU it—are big ones. They are so big that the people stay [camp] under these canoes [umiaks]—just like we stay under a roof." These Chugach raiders were especiaUy hated because of their sneak attacks and because they raided anybody they saw, without warning or without vahd provocation. The desire for slaves and booty is iUustrated in the foUowing story of a Hoonah woman who was held for ransom: "A long time ago [mid-19th century?], people from Klawak—or Vancouver [sic!]—used to go around to get slaves, captured them like prisoners. They captured a Tl'uknaxAdi woman of Hoonah for a slave. Her son kept coppers and other valuables in a taU cache on posts. Her son was away, but she offered her son's coppers to her captors. "Other people, 'Ak'^qwan, said they paid for that woman, so they kept her. But they were just talking when they said they had paid. "Just a little whUe ago in Douglas, the Tl'uknaxAdi gave lots of money to the 'Ak'^qwan to shut their mouths," 582 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 Preparations for War To guard against attack, people buUt fortifications (nu) around houses, camps, or vUlages. Such settlements were especiaUy secure if they were located on tops of cliffs or on high places from which the defenders could see their enemies approaching from a distance, and up which the attackers would have difl&culty in climbing. One fort is known to have been buUt on a smaU island in Yakutat Bay, called 'Little Fort' (nuk"^; de Laguna et al., 1964, frontis,). Single houses were evidently fortified at one time, to judge by the common Tlingit name, Fort House (at Yakutat, a K^ackqwan lineage house). The report quoted in the Coast PUot of 1883 stated that the houses in a large vUlage near Yakutat were "expressly adapted for defence" (Dall and Baker, 1883, p, 206). Some fortifications consisted of palisades, as reported for Diyaguna'Et on Lost River, and for the "Eagle Fort" of the Tlaxayik-Teqwedi on Situk River, The latter was described as having a hinged door, taken from the old Russian fort, which was fixed to admit only one man at a time. The defenders had dug tunnels to connect the houses inside the walls. The surrounding terrain was strewn with deadfaUs for bears, like a minefield. Other forts were described as having foundations or waUs of stone, as was true of Little Fort Island (de Laguna et al., 1964, p, 22), The fortified sealing camp at WuganiyB is supposed to have had stone waUs with loopholes for muskets. The fort buUt by the ChUdren of the Sun was apparently buUt of stones and fallen trees (see p, 875), All settlements, whether fortified or not, had to guard against attack. For this purpose, young men were on the look out for possible enemies. I was told that such scouts and sentries put a single feather in their hair, "If they see a young fellow running through the viUage mth just one feather [sticking up at the back of his head—(gesture)], that means war. They always used to be out watching as scouts. Everybody would know the enemy was coming if they see one feather." Whereas the attacking enemy would attempt to sneak up on a fort unseen, the defenders would post sentries or watchmen especiaUy at night. It wiU be remembered that WuganiyE feU simply because there was no one awake to warn of the attack. Women assisted in its defense by keeping a series of guns loaded for each warrior. Anticipating the attack, they had been trained how to charge the guns with powder and baU. On the other hand, the attacking party would make every effort to surprise the defenders, evidently basing their strategy upon what they could learn of the enemy's mihtary dispositions and routine. To secure such inteUigence, they might send ahead a scout, like the man who disguised himseff as an eagle to spy on the fort at WuganiyE, In order to luU the defenders of this fort into a sense of false security, the Tl'uknaxAdi had sent their \\dves to WuganiyE to spread the false rumor that their husbands had aU gone to Sitka (pp. 262-269). Certainly, the careful preparation for the successful attacks on the Russian posts at Sitka and Yakutat were based on information about their military arrangements and daUy routine of activities which had been procured from Indian women and others who had been taken by the Russians as mistresses and servants. In addition to securing mihtary inteUigence and making careful plans, we can assume that men contem- plating war also prepared and practiced with their arms. They must have drUled under a leader, for the reports of Malaspina (quoted p. 474), and Baranov (see pp. 587-588) indicate the considerable degree of control which the chief or war leader had over his men. To the native, magicoreligious preparations for war and observances during the expedition were also of great importance, for upon them, victory or defeat ultimately depended. The responsibihty for these fell upon the shaman, the war leader, the scout, aU the warriors in the party, and upon the women at home; but certainly the shaman's role was crucial. In the first place, his spirits could warn of impending attack, as is specificaUy indicated by the professional name, Lxagu^a—"his spirits warn him of danger, of war"— assumed by the Teqwedi shaman Tek-'ic. When people were anticipating an attack or preparing to go to war, it was customary to consult a shaman, possibly several, to discover the chances of success. Since the shaman's pronouncements were always couched in Delphic ambiguity, it was possible for eager warriors to disregard apparently discouraging prophecies that recommended caution. The shaman also sent his spirits to spy on the enemy, and to cause their defeat by first overcoming the spirits of their shamans. One would assume that the shaman might prepare special amulets or 'medicine' for the warriors, but nothing was reported to this effect. He did, how- ever, advise and participate in the purificatory exercises and abstinences (hex^a) carried out before the de- parture of the war party, and also accompanied it. These preparations for war were evidently begun weeks or months, perhaps a year, in advance and, as we have seen (p, 580), involved daUy bathing and beatings (cf. also Krause, 1956, p. 173, jrom Venia- minov). These probably represented simply a resumption or intensification of the usual hardening and purifying exercises carried out by boys and men. If this training had slackened off, it would now be more vigorously IN THREE PARTS WAR AND PEACE 583 pursued, just as it would be before any undertaking that involved danger, such as a major hunting expedi- tion (pp, 362-363). In fact, the "training" beforehand, as weU as the taboos and magical procedures observed during war were of the same general character as those associated with huntmg (pp. 365-366, 373,378). Thus, warriors, lUse hunters, had to stay away from women. Accordmg to Swanton (1908, p, 449), such avoidance had to last for as long a time as the expected duration of the war party, and might even last a year. My informants mentioned the length of this abstinence, but not the direct association with the anticipated absence. Swanton (ibid., pp, 449-450) also reports fmrther magical exercises performed by the Tlingit of south- eastern Alaska, but about which I heard nothing at Yakutat. These consisted of propping up the war canoes that were to be used, tying up the paddles, attacking and "capturing" wooden images representing the enemy (done by aU the men and their wives), launching the canoe (if possible over the body of an enemy, if there happened to be a member of that sib whom they could kUl), and the final 4 days of fasting and thirsting by the shaman, by the leader of the expedition, and by the warriors. The behavior foUowed by the wives left at home is not unhke that of women whose hus- bands are out after sea otter. On the other hand, Liitke (cf. Krause, 1956, p, 170) observed that aU preparations had to be kept secret by the Thngit, even from women, since they might have relatives among the enemy. There is no question but that women must have suffered from divided loyalties if their hus- bands were preparing to attack their brothers or their fathers. Women were, however, more often credited with inciting their men to war. Probably keeping war preparations secret from women was only necessary when the enemy were so close that the women could communicate with them, and no canoe voyage to reach them was involved. The War Party War parties normaUy traveled in fleets of canoes: there have been mentioned 8 war canoes from Yakutat going to attack the Chugach or the Russians in Prince Wilham Sound (p. 175), and 8 or 10 canoes going from Gu^ex (pp, 273-275). Such a flotilla was under the command of an "admiral" (cAkati), so called because he sat in the front, presumably in the bow of the leading canoe. He was not the same as the captain or steersman of the canoe who sat in the stern. The leader of a war party or "general" was called xan kunayE (orkAUAyE, cf, Tanu:;^, p, 262). Swanton (1908, p. 450) also distinguishes between the leader of the war party and "the bow man . . . [who] acted as scout and sentinel," Whenever the party landed to camp for the night, "he usuaUy went ahead and looked about, and they did not sleep imtU he had done this," The war party was also accompanied by a shaman. It would at first appear that the "admiral" of my informant was the same as Swanton's "bow man" or "scout," yet I was told that the commands of the "admiral" had to be obeyed, as is iUustrated by the foUowing story. (I do not, in fact, know the precise division of responsibUity between the "general" and the "admiral," since these were terms used by two different informants.) A war party was apparently going westward from Yakutat along the Gulf of Alaska, perhaps to fight the Chugach, Whenever smoke from a vUlage was sighted, the "admiral" ordered the war canoes away from the shore, teUtng the crews that the water was shaUow and fuU of rocks. Apparently the others wanted to attack the viUages, but the leader did not want to fight them (because he was a Christian, it was hazarded). They had to obey him because if they did not they would be destroyed (?, yudixak). This native word was translated as: "I'U kiU them aU out if they disobey him." The conflict in wishes between the war party and the leader in this case, and the authority exercised by the latter, is further explained by Swanton's statement about the usual behavior of a war party going out to fight the enemy: "As they went along the warriors took everything away from those they met, both friends and foes" (1908, p, 450). Presumably the vUlages which the leader refused to attack were those of the Galyix-Kagwantan or Eyak. WhUe on the way, the shaman prolonged his fast in order to discover when and where they would come upon the enemy. The warriors in the canoes observed special food taboos, and aU wore shaman's hats. Swanton (ibid.) says further: "The bow man fasted differently from the others. . . . The war leader, during war time, no matter where he was, always drank from a smaU basket-work cup hung about his neck." Swanton gives little further information about the activities of the war party, and there is nothing to indicate any rehgious or magical precautions that had to be observed by those who had kUled or taken trophy heads or scalps. From Ejause (1956, p, 170) we can add that the war party usuaUy tried to attack at dawn, and that before landing put on theu' wooden armor, wooden helmets and protective mask. After kUling as many of the enemy men as possible and taking their scalps as trophies, the party returned home, singing victory songs, and prepared to receive a return attack or, perhaps, if they were satisfied with their revenge. 584 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 to arrange for a peace ceremony (Krause, 1956, p. 170; Swanton, 1908, pp. 450-451). Yakutat war ex- peditions seem to have been essentiaUy of the same kind. My informants added the foUowing detaUs: There were no war songs, but men preparing for war or to face danger, strengthened their courage and whipped up their hatred by fast drumming, pounding with their spears. This was caUed "fast drumming before it happens" (cayldE 'AtcAli'Axt, or 'Atcuduldxtc), or "being mad" (xan kuwunugij). When they attacked, they cried "Hu! Hu! Hu! Hu! or "U! U! U! U!" Men expecting to die uttered the cry of their sib animal. It should be remembered that their totemic sib identi- fication was further emphasized by the name and decoration of their canoes, and by the symbohc orna- mentation of arms, armor, and face paint. When two enemy groups confronted each other, as they would if the surprise of the attack were lost, they would exchange insults—sometimes couched in the aUusive style of typical Tlingit oratory, to judge from the sample quoted in the account of the attack on Eagle Fort (pp. 263, 266), although the worst remarks were censored (p. 267), If a fort or town could not be taken by assault, the attackers might lay siege, hoping to force a surrender. The foUowing incident, told to Ulustrate the behavior of a neutral sib in such an event, reminds me of the siege by the WrangeU warriors of the Fort Daxataknada, near Angoon (cf. de Laguna, 1960, pp. 150-151): "See, one time they got a war, Tl'uknaxAdi and that KiksAdi in Sitka. They don't get all that water, they shoot it—[KiksAdi going for water were shot]—That Tl'uknaxAdi go around like this—holds aU that water, you know. That KiksAdi get dry up now. They don't get no water. Tl'uknaxAdi holds it, aU that water, in Sitka. That time they says they suck their wife's breast, they says that time, because they can't drink water. Just nakani ['sib brothers-in-law,' neutral go- betweens, in this case Kagwantan] go over there; little bucket [of water] they take it [to KiksAdi]. Just nakani go over there with that little bucket—Kagwantan. Other tribes over there [were neutral?]. That's the way it is." Victory and Defeat One informant, who saw the bm-ned remains of houses which our party was excavating on Knight Island, was evidently reminded of war, for he remarked to Francis RiddeU that the people at Old Town might have been sitting around, just as they were doing, not suspecting danger, and be suddenly attacked by another tribe. and everyone in the vUlage kiUed. The enemy would plunder the houses, taking everything in sight, btft probably would miss the caches of valuables which the owners had hidden away. WhUe we know that the vic- tors sometimes burned down the houses of their defeated enemies (as is indicated by the name WuganiyE 'burned down'), the informant would not speculate that this had actuaUy been the fate of the viUage on KJaight Island. We also know that crest objects and weapons which had been given totemic names represented especiaUy valuable plunder (pp. 458,460). Furthermore, rights to the designs for facial painting, personal names, and presumably other personal prerogatives were acquired by ]dlling the owner. If the conquerors were not carried away by the excitement of slaughter, they would also secure some women and chUdren as slaves. WTiUe a high-class woman might be held for ransom (p. 246), a man, especiaUy if he were an aristocrat, would prefer death to capture, and a brave chief like LucwAq would wel- come death if aU his people had been kiUed, Whole heads or scalps were taken as mementos both of one's own dead and of the enemy. A war party would want to bring home the heads of their own dead, and possibly also the ashes. Usually, however, only the scalp (du cada dugu, literaUy 'his head-aroimd skin-of) was saved, probably because it was easier to carry and preserve (cf. p. 535). "If you love your brother, you're going to take the hair .... Or they cut the head off. . . . They keep the hair as long as they live. Dry it up and keep it— think about it just hke human being. That's why they keep it," The victorious war party usuaUy kUled aU the men, and sometimes everyone in the settlement. The heads of the important dead, men of rank or of valor, were cut off and taken away. Swanton reports that these were usuaUy scalped when the war party neared home, and that the scalps were hung up aroimd the canoe, to be later suspended outdoors from the house beams. His informant suggested that the dead enemy would feel happy because his scalp had been taken, Swanton also reports the behef that if the scalp swung at right angles to the canoe, it was happy; if parallel, unhappy (Swan- ton, 1908, pp. 450 and 451 note a). It wiU be remem- bered that the scalp of the bravest C^Atqwan was remarkable because it never stopped spinning when hung up (p. 284). An informant told me: "If your enemy kill you, they cut your head off. Your spirit wiU be up there without a head. That's how they recognize you up there [in Kiwa'a, the sky afterworld of the slain], that you're kUled because you don't have any head. That's the reason why, I'm not very high, not a chief or a chief's IN THREE PARTS WAR AND PEACE 585 nephew, so they don't cut off my head. But if I'm a high person, they cut my head off. They use my hair and say: "He's So-and-so.' " I do not think that the informant reaUy meant, however, that the ghost in Kiwa'a woiUd be mutUated. In the war between the Kagwantan and the C^Atqwan, heads and scalps were taken on both sides (p. 284). Such trophies may be redeemed, for some of the heads taken by the Kagwantan are said to have been afterwards obtained by relatives of the slain men whUe others stiU remain in the possession of the Sitka Indians (de Laguna, 1933, p. 744; 1960, pp, 156-157). UsuaUy the relatives would make every effort to secure the captured heads or scalps. For example, if Kagwantan had taken KisAdi scalps, I was told: "After whUe KiksAdi are going to come. 'I'm going to pay [for] it, give it back. That's my uncle's hair, my brother's hair. I'm going to pay it,' That's the way they do." The sib wUl give "lots of blankets" to bring it back. A trophy of this kind, taken and held for redemption, was caUed 'awA§a (or 'Awu^a). "You get it for nothing at a potlatch and later you pay for it" (MJ). Or, explained another, "He keeps it untU they pay it back," It was also caUed 'a^a qawusa 'ayat ^ayAdi—"trophy, to make even" (MJ). The first part of this phrase seems to be 'something on account of which people ask,' and we might therefore think of the trophy scalp as a "conversation piece" of a special kind. A few of Swanton's Thngit stories (1909, Tale 29, and Tale 27; cf. p. 269) indicate that prisoners, espe- ciaUy women, were kiUed in a cruel fashion, being impaled ahve or thrown alive on the funeral pyres for slain warriors. I heard nothing of this sort from my Yakutat informants. It seems to have been important after a battle to secure the bodies of one's own dead, for it was very humiliating if the enemy kept them and threw them into the water. This was what the Tlaxayik-Teqwedi did to the dead Tl'uknaxAdi at Eagle Fort, teUing the defeated war party that their comrades' corpses "be- longed to the eagles" (pp. 263, 266). To remind anyone that the fishes or birds were eating their dead would appear to be a deadly insult (p. 282; de Laguna, 1960, pp. 149-150, 152). Note how the GanAxtedi shaman upset the canoes of the Tl'uknaxAdi when he discovered that someone in the crews had thrown overboard the head of a QanAxtedi man (p. 274). Apparently to consign the bodies or heads to the water was the worst thing one coiUd do, perhaps be- cause it was customary to throw the corpses of slaves out on the beach. It was also shameful to leave the dead lying above ground, as the victors did when they overran WuganiyE, threatening war on anyone who tried to coUect the bones (p, 267). The motive seems to be to humUiate the defeated survivors, not to inflict torment on the dead who would presumably be playing shinny among the Northern Lights in Kiwa'a. How- ever, there was also the conflicting behef that those whose bodies were not cremated would be cold in the land of the dead (cf. p. 535), even though brave war- riors, like shamans, were too hardened to mind this. ARMS AND ARMOR The Warrior and His Accouterment Yakutat warriors, and those from other communities along the GuU Coast from Lituya Bay to the Copper River, were elaborately accoutered, just as were the Tlingit of southeastern Alaska (cf. Krause, 1956, pi. iv, 1 wooden armor, and 2 leather cuirass or vest, 9-12 daggers). Their costumes and arms, with their sib symbolism, were intended for something more than the practical aims of defense and offense; "war," especiaUy when it took the form of a fight between champions, or the suicidal last duel of a noble, was conducted like a ceremony. Indeed, as has been pointed out, ceremonies were conducted hke wars (McCleUan, 1954, p. 96), and at the potlatch the same regaha might be worn as in battle. Other items seem to have been used both by warriors and by shamans when battling evil or enemy spirits. However, on some occasions, when effective fighting was necessary, the warrior simply tied up his hair or wound a kerchief around his head, stripped off his shirt, and attacked with dagger or spear. At other times he painted his face, put on helmet or headdress, donned a fuU suit of armor, and hung himself about with his arms, WhUe much of the warrior's outfit was mentioned or sketchUy described by informants, it can best be understood from 18th-century descriptions and from 19th-century specimens in museum coUections. 586 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 WEAPONS, LITUYA BAY, 1786 It w^Ul be remembered that LaPerouse was impressed by the iron and copper daggers which each Indian man at Lituya Bay wore suspended from his neck in a sheath of tanned skin. Although the Indians tried to reassure the French that these were used only against bears and wUd animals (p. 116), yet they were seen continuaUy threatening each other with these daggers in their many quarrels (p. 122), LaPerouse also men- tions that the French demonstrated the power of their muskets by shooting through an Indian cuirass, which was impenetrable to the native arrows (p. 117), but he does not further describe the armor. The head- gear, consisting of a bear's skin drawn over a wooden skuUcap, might have served as a helmet (p. 432), Of weapons, only the dagger, lance, and bow and arrows are mentioned (p. 367), "The fighting Indians wear aU their arms, a breast-plate, back armor, a helmet with a visor or at least what serves that purpose. The breast and back armor are a kind of coat of maU of boards two fingers thick, joined by a thick cord which after being herbirlis by as [front] and emhes [back] [the reference is to twining] with much union and equality joins them. In this junction the thread WEAPONS AND ARMOR, YAKUTAT BAY, 1787-1788 Unfortunately, Beresford gives us no specific infor- mation about the weapons used by the Indians at Yakutat. His descriptions of arms and armor, like so many of his observations, apply to the Northwest Coast Indians in general, from Yakutat to the Queen Charlotte Islands, He does, however, Ulustrate a single and a double-bladed dagger of metal from Port Mul- grave (fig. 66). IsmaUov and Bocharov, coming to Yakutat the foUowing year, had very little more to report. Ac- cording to Shelikhov's account of their observations of the Yakutat Indians: "Their arms are bows, arrows, and lances, which they make chiefly of stone. The lances are fourteen inches long, in the middle five inches broad, and sharp towards the end and on the side. Sometimes these lances are suspended at the girth, and hang down as far as the middle of the leg, and at other times are slung round the shoulders under their clothes." [Coxe, 1803, p. 326.] As Coxe correctly observes in a footnote: "Probably this is a species of dagger," I should add that a stone blade of the dimensions stated could only have been made of slate, even though we found no complete archeological examples of such large slate blades in our excavations near Yakutat (de Laguna et al, 1964, pp, 125-127), WEAPONS AND ARMOR, YAKUTAT, 1791 We are indebted to Surla not only for a sketch of a Yakutat warrior with aU his accouterments (pi, 51), but also for the foUowing description: FIGURE 66.—Metal (iron?) daggers from Port Mulgrave ob- tained by Dixon in 1787, (Beresford, 1789, pi. opp. p. 188, DOS. 3, 4.) takes an opposite direction, it being the case that even here the arrows cannot pass through, much less in the thickest part of the boards. This breast plate is bound to the body by the back. They wear an apron or armor from the waist to the knees of the same character which must hinder their walking. Of the same material they cover the arm from the IN THREE PARTS WAR AND PEACE 587 shoulder to the elbow, on the legs they use some leggmgs which reach to the middle of the thigh, the hau- inside. [A note by W. A. Newcombe of Victoria, includes the reference: "Walter Hough in the Repoit oj the National Museum, Washington, for 1893 (p. 637), states that there are four sets of armor coUected by Malaspina m 1791 in the Museo Arqueologico, Madrid. He questions the coUectmg locahby but I would certainly say Yakutat Bay. N."]. [No para,] "They construct the helmet of various shapes; usuaUy it is a piece of wood, very sohd and thick, so much so, that when I put on one it weighed the same as if it had been of iron. They always have a great figure ui front, a young eagle or a kmd of parrot [sic; some crest bird, evidently], and to cover the face they lower from the helmet a piece of wood which surrounds this and hangs from some pieces of leather in the middle of the head to unite with another one which comes up from the chin. They join at the nose, leaving the junction for the place through which to see. [No para,] "It is to be noted that before they put this armor on they put on a robe hke that of the women but heavier and thicker, and with certain kinds of work. [No para,] "They hang catucas [carcaj{-es)7, quiver (s)] and the bow they put over the arm to which it hangs back of the shoulders. They clasp a short lance, a knife, and a hatchet. Such is the equip- ment of a warrior. The lance is a heavy stick of black wood ["western yew," according to Newcombe], very weU worked, and at the point they tie on the blade of a great knife which they obtain from English- men in exchange for their skins. The knife which they carry in their belt is the same as ours for the same reason. The hatchet is a black stone of the size, figure, and edge of our iron hatchet [the so-caUed "long-handled adze" like a shipwright's adz, ac- cording to Newcombe; or probably the war pick]. They fasten it to a heavy stick and make use of it in war and in their other necessities. The bows and arrows are the same as those of aU other Indians. AU this I know because an Indian who armed him- self for us to see it, pointed it aU out to us by signs," [Wagner, 1936, pp, 255-256.] Surfa's picture of the warrior (pi, 51) shows that the wooden helmet is carved to represent a human head, with a bunch of feathers or fur at the top. Most of his face, not just the eyes, is visible between the wooden coUar and the brim of the helmet. The wooden armor f aUs in two tiers, from shoulder to waist, and from waist to just above the knees. The undergarment of skin has loose sleeves to the wrist, and the fringed bottom reaches the ankles. He wears moccasins or boots. His dagger hangs on his right hip in a sheath that is slung on a band from his left shoulder across his chest and back. The bow is held horizontaUy, the arrow steadied and aimed between the first and second fingers of the left hand that grasps the bow. The nock of the arrow is held and the bowstring puUed by the thumb and fore- finger of the right hand, as was demonstrated by my informant (fig, 30, p. 368). As the French had done in Lituya Bay, so the Span- iards at Yakutat demonstrated to the Indians that their guns could shoot through the native armor. The Yakutat Indian evidently did not expose the wooden cuirass, of the kind described by Surla, but what I assume to have been a tunic of rawhide, which he soaked in water to render it impenetrable. It wiU be remembered how angry he was when one of the officers shot through it (p. 147). ARMS AND ARMOR, YAKUTAT AND CAPE YAKATAGA, 1792 The foUomng year, June 1792, Baranov's party in Prince WUham Sound were attacked by a party of Indians from Yakutat and from the Galyix-Kagwantan territory (presumably near Cape Yakataga), who later claimed they had mistaken the Russians for their enemies, the Chugach Eskimo. The Indians were pre- pared to face musket fire, for as Baranov reported (in TUihmenev, 1861-63, quoted p, 159); "[The Indians] were covered with three or four thicknesses of wooden shields, plaited with sinews and wore very thick rawhide cloaks; on their heads they had helmets in imitation of foxes [undoubtedly the WoK crest] or other animals, of wood, and very thick, which neither our buUets nor grapeshot could penetrate," These natives were armed with spears and bows and arrows, were directed in what must have been very efficient mUitary maneuvers by some leader "with a commanding voice," and when retreatiag managed to take away their own wounded and four Chugach hos- tages of the Russians. The translation by Ginsberg of this same passage in the letter from Baranov, as quoted by Okun (Ginsberg, 1951, p, 208), adds a little further information: "The attackers were aU dressed in three or four coats of plaited wooden armour, and over these they wore thick elk-skui cloaks, and on their heads they wore exceedingly thick wooden helmets with figures of various monsters on them, wherefore neither buUets nor bricks nor arrows nor pikes were power- ful enough to defeat them, and had the Russians not chanced to have a one-pounder with them they would certainly have been worsted; for the attackers fought with great ferocity untU dayhght, being given orders 588 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 by the voice of one man, something that had not been seen before in the case of these savages, and bravely stepping forward to take the place of their dead," While I have ah-eady suggested (p. 159) that the Yakutat Tlingit had learned from the target practice of Malaspina's officer what was needed to render their armor buUetproof, the type of mUitary command may well have been purely aboriginal, since it duplicates the maneuvers performed at Yakutat at the command of the Ankau (quoted, pp. 141,474). Two years later, Vancouver's Lieutenant Puget and the Russian explorers, Purtov and Kulikalov, found the Indians at Yakutat armed with some guns and ammunition, as well as with their own iron daggers (pp. 156,164). Weapons DAGGER The weapons used by warriors included the long dagger, 'something close to the hand' (djixAn 'At), or 'something with which to strike' (g'^All). These were made of copper or iron, the grip wound with thongs or spruce roots, and might have one or two double-edged blades. The dagger was worn on the chest in a skin sheath, slung aroung the neck. An iron speci- men excavated at Diyaguna'Et (de Laguna et al,, 1964, fig. 13 6) was recognized by informants as typical. Jim Kardeetoo, posing beside the posts of Shark House, shows (pi. 86) how the dagger would normaUy be worn. See also the tiny bit of the beaded sheath which shows as he poses among the Teqwedi guests at a potlatch in 1916 (pi, 214a). When fighting, the dagger was attached to the wrist to prevent loss. It wUl be remem- bered that the Kagwantan peace dancers went into the house where the peace dance was to be held with their daggers stitched to the skin of their thighs for concealment (p, 283), Emmons collected several fighting knives or daggers from Yakutat and Dry Bay; apparently those with double blades he considered to be the oldest type. One of these of copper, from Yakutat, had the upper, smaUer blade incised to represent a human face (AMNH E/1161). There were also iron knives from Yakutat and Dry Bay (AMNH E/1510, 1321*), and two additional copper knives from Dry Bay, one of which was found clasped in the mummified hand of a shaman in his gravehouse at the mouth of the Alsek River (pi. 160, and AMNH E/8510). Harrington (MS.) recorded that the copper daggers had a "10 inches long and 2 inches wide blade, and had a hair-seal thong passing around both ends of the handle, making a ridge so that one cannot get it out of the hand easUy, and from this the thong went around the wrist. You could never get away from a man with one of these—he'd kiU you," WAR PICK Another weapon used for close fighting was the stone or antler-headed pick (k^tu). This is the implement usuaUy described as a "slave-kUler," although it is uncertaui that it served this function. The weapon was carried on war and hunting expeditions, and is said to have been simUar to the war or hunting picks carried by the "McCarthy Indians" (Nabesna or Upper Tan- ana) , The latter had a wooden handle across which was tied a sharp spikelike blade made of moose or sheep horn. Another informant had found the heads of such weapons on the riverbank at Diyaguna'Et; these were made of bone and of greenstone (fig, 67). He sketched and described the weapon as "something like a mattock, , . . They hit people mth it or they hit an animal. It's a hard rock , . . about a foot long. . . . The k^t'u was sharp on one end and on the other end just a little piece sticks out. It's like a peg, just about a quarter of an inch long—just big enough to go through the head bone. They tied the handle on." The bone specimen was simUar. FIGURE 67.—War pick (k6tu) as sketched by Sampson Harry. In the photograph of the Teqwedi potlatch guests, taken in 1916, Joseph Abraham holds an ordinary stone- bladed splitting adze in the crook of his arm, and Henry Shada beside him grasps what appears to be a war pick (pi. 214). A double-pointed stone club head of somewhat different pattern from any of these was found at Old Town on Knight Island, as were roughly shaped stone specimens which could have been spikes for clubs (de Laguna et al., 1964, pp, 122-123, pi, 5, c). Emmons obtained a stone club or pick at Dry Bay, which was reported to have been lashed to a handle IN THREE PARTS WAR AND PEACE 589 with thongs and used for fightmg (AMNH E/98). He also coUected a number of war picks of this type from the grave houses of Dry Bay shamans, who had used them to kUl the land otters from which they obtained their powers, and also for fighting evil spirits. The shaman SAtEn had owned four of these (AMNH E/424*, -/425*, -/429*, -/432). WAR CLUBS A club (ids) of wood or moosehorn was mentioned as a weapon but was not further described. This may have been simply the club like a basebaU bat, used for dispatching fish and sea mammals, or a weapon simUar to it which Emmons caUed "kluk-ka-ut" (perhaps tl'ukA 'At?). He gives the name "kutze" (ills) to the war club and to the simUar dance wand carried by the shaman. One ivory war club which he obtained at Dry Bay was carved to represent a sea hon and incised with a design symbolizing a hawk's head. A fine and rare specimen of this kind, he felt would be owned only by a chief and would be used in close fighting (AMNH E/2489). The shaman, SAtEn, had seven dance wands like such clubs, carved with decorations that evidently represented his spirits (AMNH E/422, -/423, -/426*, -/427*, pi. 187, -/430*, -/431). BRAINING STONE One Yakutat woman described what appears to have been a braining stone (qayi. g'^HA), 'someone's face, thing to strike with.' This had pits for finger grips, and was used "to hit the face" (MJ). It reminds one of the braining stones of Chugach assassins, although the latter were grooved for attachment to a thong (Birket- Smith, 1953, p. 101). I could not discover whether the shng (djux'^a) and shng stone (djux'^a tE) were ever used in war, WAR SPEAR The war spear (ts^gXl') was described as "a knife tied on the end of a stick," and seems to have been the same as that used in hunting bears (p. 367). It was thrust, not thrown, and in war was never per- mitted to leave the hand. The shaft was usuaUy the length of a man's double span, that is, about 6 or 7 feet, but DaxquwAdEn shortened his by about the length of his forearm (about 2 feet) when preparmg to attack the C^tqwan m the house (p. 282), Although his grandfather thought this was too short, the length (measured from the elbow of one arm to the fingertips of the other, about 4 feet), was that of the short huntmg spear, and the usual length for the war spear on the Northwest Coast (de Laguna et al,, 1964, p, 125). BOW AND ARROW The bow and arrow (sAqs, tcuuEt) carried by the warrior were also the same as those he woiUd have used against land animals, Harrington reports that his informant "volunteered that the early Indians here made a wooden gun, caUed khaa^-'uunaa [qas 'una], literaUy a 'wooden gun.' It has a bow and bowstring, [and to judge by the sketch, a stock like a gun with a trigger]. They shoot strong." This weapon as described resembles a crossbow, although it seems difficult to understand how the na- tives could have seen a European model to copy. FIREARMS AND ACCESSORIES Guns, muzzle-loaders in the old days, were much prized as weapons. The first at Yakutat were the "six exceUent muskets" noted by Lieutenant Puget in 1794 (p. 156), or the "many guns and ammunition of lead and powder in considerable quantities" as they appear in the report by Purtov and Kulikalov, who were at Yakutat at the same time (p. 164). These the natives obtained from European vessels that came to trade for sea otter skins. For most of the 19th century, the com- mon type of gun was the old Hudson's Bay Company musket. By 1884 the favorite weapon at Yakutat was a combination 44/100-iQch cahber rifle with a .14- or .16-gauge shotgun (p. 187). The sale or breech-loading guns and cartridges ("fixed ammunition") to the In- dians was stUl forbidden by law. By the end of the cen- tury the Yakutat people were armed with Winchester repeating rifles and double-barreled shotguns but, of course, these were used only for hunting (p. 375). The gun ('una 'something to shoot') was often caUed 'war gun' (x^n 'ijna). Because this weapon was a muzzle-loader the Yakutat warrior had to carry shot, powder, caps, and wadding. The shot was carried in a double basket or a birdskin pouch (pis, 116, 128). Powder and caps were likely to be put into a smaU gutskin bag (p. 426). Emmons obtained two powder horns, one made of cow's horn, at Yakutat (pi, 116), He also obtained there a powder charge container ("Una- guay" possibly 'una g'^el?) made of woven spruce root, A charge of powder was put in either end and a stopper of twisted cedar bark or wood held it in the chamber untU it was required for use (AMNH E/2539). Professor Libbey obtained a powder measure of mountain goat horn "from the chief of the Eagle clan, Yakutat," that is, from Chief Yen-aht-setl, the Teqwedi sib chief (pi. 116). As described by Bakd (1965b, p. 6), ". . . it has a line scribed inside to mark the 4-dram level—which would be a heavy load for a .12-gauge fowling piece or a light load for a .10-gauge (at least with fuU-strength gunpowder), A carrying thong, now 590 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 missing, passed through the eagle's beak," The Eagle was one of the totemic crests which the Teqwedi chief might use. It may also be of interest to remember that one of his names was YauAct'uk^, Tuing a Gun' (p. 200). The Hudson's Bay Company muskets could shoot pebbles, although the Yakutat people made buUets for them. Emmons coUected at Yakutat a copper bullet, said to have come from the Copper River country, used for bear huntmg (AMNH E/1167). Professor Libbey acquired a buUet mold and buUet, which Lieu- tenant Schwatka obtained from some Indians he en- countered on his trip through the Ankau lagoons and Lost River system (pi. 116), As Schwatka writes: "One of the utensUs our Indian friends had in their possession struck me rather forcibly as an Ulustration of the fact that the working in stone by these Indians has not yet ceased, and this, too, in the making of necessary implements for every-day use. It was noth- ing more or less than a pair of buUet molds made by one of the yoxmg men of that party. At first I thought that the body was made of iron set in a pair of per- fectly working hinges of wood, so carefuUy adjusted that the two halves of the molds came together as exactly as the best bullet molds we make. . . . This body, however, upon close examination proved to be stone, the workmanship of which was claimed by a young man from 25 to 30 years of age. The interior of the molds showed perfect globes reversed, and a specimen buUet from them was as good as any I have seen made in civUized countries. It is now, I believe, in possession of Professor Libbey, who secm-ed it for the Princeton CoUege ethnological coUection. It was a smaU, unassuming affair, but expressed a great deal ethnologicaUy," [New-York Times, October 26, 1886.] IBau-d writes (1965 b, p. 7):] "The neatly pivoted wooden handles are evidently patterned after a white man's pair of dividers whUe the mold blocks are carved of stone. Although the .38 caliber baUs cast in this mold are rather eccentric they would serve weU as buckshot," Although the Yakutat Indians had started the 19th century better provided with Russian arms than the Indians of southeastern Alaska, just as they had stUl earlier been better equipped with drift iron blades for their spears and daggers, by the end of the 19th century their guns were stUl inferior to the modern rifles and revolvers which the Tsimshian possessed (pp, 262, 266, 275, 285). Among the arms taken from the Russian fort were cannon (anta 6na ?, perhaps 'antu 'una, 'gun inside the town' ?). The Indians obviously appreciated the value of these smaU cannon; one was kept at Yakutat and the other is said to have been taken by the Tl'uknaxAdi to defend Gu^ex (p. 261), The Warrior's Costume ARMOR From a Dry Bay informant, I obtained a sketchy description of armor. The wooden helmet (I'uwu CAda)—"wood on their heads. . . . They make it just like hat, you know, [lUse] that steel hat . . ."—came down to the brows. On one occasion she corroborated the statement by Enunons (1903, p. 274) that it was decorated with a special basketry design (see below), but again denied that the wooden helmet was carved or painted, "No—just plain." Below the helmet was a wooden coUar, which covered the neck and lower part of the face, like a protective mask, "AU over here [the mouth]. . . . They bite it like this," indicating a wooden mouthpiece held between the teeth. The informant coiUd not remember the name for the coUar, but believed it was just part of the armor. Some helmets at Dry Bay were evidently as decora- tive as that one sketched at Suria at Yakutat, for Emmons coUected a magnfficent specimen at Dry Bay, carved to represent a man's face contorted with pain, as if he had just received a mortal blow (pi. 158). The armor (gucket, sAnket) was made of rods of hard wood, and covered the body from the neck to just below the knee, "just like apron. . . . And when they using that, tsagAl' [spears], they don't hit their body." The armor was stained dark with dye made from the cooked roots of the "wUd rhubarb." Under the wooden armor was a skin shirt (gudas), usuaUy of mooseskin. "Mooseskin—^it's hard. They can't get tsagll' in, touch their body. And that's why they use it." Other "strong skins" were used, but she did not know what kinds they were. Below the armor were worn heavy skin boots (^s ket). Krause (1956, p. 170, citing Liitke) says of the Tlingit warriors: "Before the attack they put on their wooden rod armor which protected their backs and chests, they covered their faces with masks [coUars?] representing the heads of animals, and put wooden coverings decorated in the same way on their heads, AU these parts were fastened to the armor with strong sinew." Ej-ause (1956, pp. 145-146) describes two suits of leather armor, the longer ("kek-ke") reaching to the knees, the shorter ("chluch-tschl-ne" or "chlucht tschine") covering only the body, and wooden rod armor ("u6nda," i.e., wAnda, 'surface of the edge'). Emmons obtained at Yakutat a suit of armor made of mooseskin and wooden slats bound together with sinew. The leather was painted to represent the spirit of Kiwa'a (?, "Ke-war-klue"), and a witch (AMNH 19/1038). Part of some wooden slat armor, to be worn on the lower leg, he obtained from the grave of a IN THREE PARTS WAR AND PEACE 591 Dry Bay shaman (AMNH E/2311). He also coUected at Yakutat a plain moosehide shirt to be worn alone or under a suit of wooden armor (pi. 161). WAR BONNET Swanton (1908, p. 450) reports that each member of the war party wore a special shaman's hat. This was described by Enunons (1903, p. 257, pi. xvi) as: "Shar-dar yar-ar-kee ('around-the-head work') [cAda yE'dge] is essentiaUy a Tlingit type of head- dress worn by the shaman . . ., and it might be denominated a 'war bonnet;' not that he wore it in actual war, but in his practice when contending with hostUe spirits. In weave it is a continuous broad band, slightly mder at the top than at the bottom; so that when it is flattened out and creased, the outward flare comes more in front, giving it a clumsy appearance. The top is sewed together, and is surmounted by a wolf or fox taU, or by the mane of the mountain-goat combined mth one of the former. The entire exterior surface is ornamentally embroidered in straw and color. The hat itself gives the name to the peculiar step-like design. ..." And there was usuaUy, in addition, a smaU animal figure embroidered on each side. Of the design, Emmons (1903, p. 274) writes further: "Shar-dar yar-ar-kee ('the work or embroidery around the head,' i.e., on the wooden helmet, and also on the basket-work hat or war-bonnet worn exclusively by the shaman)..." and believes that it is a very old basket decoration. The Dry Bay informant told me that this step design was also used for the beadwork on a girl's hair orna- ment. She sketched two variations of the same design (cf. Emmons, 1903, fig. 344), corroborating his state- ment that it was used on war hat and helmets (fig. 68). The wearing of these was not confined to war time, she said. Jim Kardeetoo appears to have worn such a war bonnet when he posed with the Teqwedi guests at a potlatch in 1916 (pi. 214). Perhaps, like the Sun Dagger and other heirlooms, it had once belonged to the shaman Tek-'ic. As far as I know these basketry bonnets have not been found in the grave houses of shamans. BEAR'S EARS HEADDRESS One form of headdress, worn when going to war or undertaking a serious task (p, 621), such as giving away great wealth at a potlatch, was caUed the 'Bear's Ears' (xuts gAugtic). For example, DaxquwAd]^n tied brown bear's ears on his head when going to kUl the C^Atqwan (p. 283). These ears were formerly made of real bear skin, but symbolic representations have also been made of other materials (cf. Keithahn, 1963, p. 73, fig, on right), A bear's ears headdress was acquired in 1950 by the Alaska Historical Museum from Mrs, A. B, Jack of Yakutat (pi. 153). According to a letter from the Curator (Edward L. Keithahn, November 30, 1964), this is made of leather, perhaps tanned sea lion hide, and is decorated with wooden disks on the "ears," painted in alternate bands of red and green. Between the "ears" is a patch of white feathers with down, probably hackles from an eagle's neck, and there is also hair from a cow's taU (that of the mission cow). bi ue ^red I I whi+e FiGTJRB 68.—Design for war bonnet, shaman's hat, or girl's hair ornament as sketched by Emma Ellis. Above, 'Baby design around the head,' (cAda yE'age yAtx'i). Below, 'Large design around the head' (cAda ye' age tlenx') as worked in beads on her young aunt's hair ornament. The colors of the elements are: red white, blue, white, red, white, white, white. It is very simUar to the headdress worn by Tek-'ic and other Teqwedi shamans, and which was caUed 'Sun's Ears' (gAgan gAnguc). The latter was probably a special form of 'bear's ears.' Jim Kardeetoo donned it to pose before the sale of the Shark House posts (pi. 86). It is this headdress which LaPerouse's artist has rendered like a bishop's mitre in his engraving of the Lituya Bay chief sitting among a group of inhabitants, and which is also worn by three occupants of a canoe on Lituya Bay (pis. 37-38). Emmons coUected several examples of bear's ears headdresses at Dry Bay and Yakutat from the grave houses of shamans (pis. 199, 206; AMNH E/1632, 19/979). 592 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 FACE PAINT Face paint was apparently worn by warriors. Thus, two of the many designs for facial painting coUected by Swanton (1808, pi. LV, h, i) are said to have been worn originally by a WrangeU man (Tsuna'k'') just before he was kUled by a Kagwantan man during the war between the two groups. Now it is worn by the Kagwantan, by both men and women at dances, and (by men only ?) before going to war. This certainly suggests that the other designs, unless speciaUy des- ignated as worn by peace hostages, women, song leaders, or mourners (ibid., pis. XLVIII-LV), the majority of which symbolized crests, would be worn both by dancers at a potlatch and by warriors preparing for battle. I learned little about face painting at Yakutat, except that black around the eyes was for war (p. 283). PEACE AND JUSTICE The Meaning of Peace To make peace after a war involved redemption or exchange of scalps taken, of crest objects and captives, but it could not be achieved untU the killings on each side were judged equal in amount; that is, in numbers and rank. This was because the making of peace was equivalent to making a legal settlement that would elim- inate aU causes for conflict; the original reasons for the fighting and aU the ensuing injuries were treated as if they were issues in a case at law. Restitution or recompense had to be given for what had been siezed or destroyed;for human lives lost an equivalence had to be smrendered. Thus, paradoxicaUy the victors in battle were theo- reticaUy the losers in peace. IdeaUy, peace was made when an equal number of persons, of matching rank, had been kiUed on both sides. Payment of damages in the form of such property as coppers, blankets, slaves, or other valuables, might be accepted in order to equalize the score of deaths. Property was also given to redeem captives and crest objects, or these might be exchanged (pp. 459-460). Most important of all, making peace involved the holding of a peace ceremony, with elaborate symbolism to testify that grudges were buried and with magico- religious sanctions to guarantee amicable behavior. That old hatreds do not die so easUy, and that men may violate a truce, is amply Ulustrated by the massacre of the Ci^tqwan peace oflacers at Sitka and by the bitter feelings that stiU smolder. Moreover, although a settlement might be accepted as adequate at the time, in later years this might come to be considered in- sufficient, and fresh demands be pressed in anger, rekindling the old strife. Not aU wars, even between Tlingit or Tlingit and Eyak sibs, end with formal peace settlements. There may be simply a suspension of hostUities, as perforce occurred with the imposition of American law, or, as in the old days, one group might simply conquer and absorb another. This appears to have been the case with the Tlaxayik-Teqwedi. OriginaUy defeated and almost exterminated by the Tl'uknaxAdi and their aUies, the survivors were enslaved by the Bear House Teqwedi, who took over their lands, and other property and prerogatives, including personal names (cf. Tanu±), and the ghost of LucwAq as a shaman's spirit. Perhaps it was to secure and legitimatize their title to the Situk and Lost River area, shaky because it had not been purchased (p. 253), that the Bear House Teqwedi finaUy undertook to bury the bones of the Tlaxayik- Teqwedi fallen at WuganiyE, and were quick to seize the opportunity of turning a play peace ceremony into a real one (pp. 267, 269). The Bear House Teqwedi were, I think, resorting to a kind of legal fiction, since it was their "fathers," the Tl'uknaxAdi, who had actually conquered the original Situk inhabitants, and so could with some justice claim prior rights to these territories. As far as I know, the Bear House Teqwedi had never been at war with the Tl'uknaxAdi, so the peace ceremony was doubly fictitious. Perhaps the name "Teqwedi" was reaUy given to the Eyak-speaking L'u^edi by the Bear House Teqwedi as part of this same legahstic maneuvering. Potential wars have, of course, been prevented with- out recourse to formal peace ceremonies, as when terri- torial rights were purchased in order to avoid charges of trespassing (pp. 119, 233, 252). On the other hand, a peace ceremony has often been used to settle what we would consider a local or domestic case of homicide or manslaughter, even when the deaths were quite unpremeditated or even accidental. If not settled promptly, however, these cases would (in former days, at any rate), lead to IN THREE PARTS WAR AND PEACE 593 feuds and further deaths, and would eventuaUy neces- sitate a peace ceremony. It is because formal peace ceremonies are used to settle legal cases of this kind that the latter are caUed "wars" by the Yakutat people. Conversely, my principal historical informant did not think that fighting the Russians at Yakutat should properly be called a "war" (p. 264), perhaps because a true peace settlement would have been impossible. That the Yakutat Indians did attempt to use the formahty of the peace ceremony in deahng with Whites is strongly suggested by Suria's experiences (p. 150), and by the behavior of the Indians the fol- lowing day when the Spaniards' suspension of trading had angered them (pp. 150-151). For the Indians, "peace" does not mean cessation of fighting, or the imposition and acceptance of condi- tions of surrender; it means restoration of lawful relationships, settlement of claims for loss and injury, and reestablishment of equity. To understand "war and peace" in Tlingit terms wdU, therefore, iUuminate Thngit conceptions of justice. WhUe there have been no formal wars or feuds within the memory of my informants, a number of serious disputes have been settled by peace ceremonies. The details given in the foUowing pages are based largely upon descriptions of ceremonies which informants had seen as chUdren at Yakutat and Dry Bay, between about 1890 and 1910. There was also some mention of other ceremonies at a stiU earlier period, as weU as some generahzations and explanations. No single narrative was complete, so that the foUo\\'ing account is a composite which can neither make clear possible differences in practice between Yakutat and Dry Bay, nor distinguish features which might have been char- acteristic of peace ceremonies conducted after bloody wars and those held after legal settlements. Preliminaries to the Peace Ceremony GO-BETWEENS Negotiations for peace were carried out by go- betweens, 'sib brothers-in-law' (nakani), that is, men who were married to women of the sib they were to represent. The persons employed as nakani by hosts at a potlatch, and the nakani of the guests, might or might not be members of the sib on the opposite side (guest or host) to whom they spoke as ambassadors for their 'brothers-in-law,' (see pp. 617-618), but nakani in time of war should not belong to either sib that was involved in the trouble. Thus one informant said that if Kagwantan and K'^ackqwan had a war, CAnkuqedi would be nakani. Or, she admitted when asked, Teq- wedi or Tl'uknaxAdi could serve. "They free people. Just [only] that Kagwantan and K'^ackqwan got a war with each other. Any of the other tribes, they free [neutral], you know. They go around." In Ulustration she cited the humanitarian role of the Kagwantan nakani in relieving the thirst of the KiksAdi who were besieged at Sitka by the Tl'uknaxAdi (see p. 584). In answer to a question, MJ stated emphaticaUy that Teqwedi could not use K^ackqwan as nakani—"have to be Tl'uknaxAdi." This statement may be based on the old-time preference for marriages between the Bear House Teqwedi and the Tl'uknaxAdi, especiaUy for aristocrats, although the informant had just been speaking about an actual peace settlement between Teqwedi and K'ackqwan, when of course the latter could not have been nakani. Continuing, "K^ackqwan uses Kagwantan—any Kagwantan [that] marry into their tribe." WhUe I lack sufficient instances to check these statements, they probably reflect the desired norms, not fixed rules. There is no definite evidence that each sib involved in a dispute had to have their own brothers-in-law as representatives. For example, in an actual case (a legal settlement) at Dry Bay about 1902, the nakani between the Tluk^axAdi and CAnkuqedi were a Kagwantan man and woman, the latter chosen in default of a suitable man. Both were spouses of Tluk^axAdi; the man had been the father-in-law of the CAnkuqedi woman whose death was involved in the dispute, but I do not know the actual or theoretical relationship of the Kagwantan woman to the CAnkuqedi. In this case, as in others at Dry Bay and Yakutat, it was obviously impossible for both parties to have 'brothers-in-law' in the same neutral sib. I unfortunately lack specific information as to whether two groups of neutral 'brothers-in-law' (one for each side) were ever employed. We may infer, how- ever, that the main consideration was that the go- betweens should be persons of importance, members of a group that had no involvement in the trouble, and as individuals have personal ties that would make them anxious to restore peace. The duty of the go-betweens was to discover what compensation in property or in hfe was demanded by the side that felt itself aggrieved, inform their opponents and secure the aggreement of the latter, arrange for the exchange of peace hostages or 'deer' (kuwakan, usuaUy heard as 'gowakan'; Boas, 1917, p. 128, q'dwltk'^n), and supervise the ceremonial dances of these hostages. For example, the nakani at a peace dance are supposed to search the dancers, and others(?), for hidden weapons (p. 283). The position of nakani was recognized as a very responsible one, second only to that of the peace hostages who seem to have occupied the center of atten- tion. It was always the sib chief, of course, who decided 594 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 on war and peace, after deliberation with the various house owners. WHO COULD MAKE PEACE At Yakutat (and Dry Bay?) peace ceremonies could be held only between sibs in opposite moieties. This is in contrast to the custom among the Tlingit in south- eastern Alaska where any two sibs could make peace by this means. Thus, when Yakutat informants were questioned specificaUy as to whether Teqwedi and Kagwantan, Kagwantan and CAnkuqedi, or Tl'ukna- xAdi and K^ackqwan could make peace by exchanging peace hostages, they aU reported that such a case was unknown. "I never heard it happen yet—always opposites," and informants did not believe that peace hostages could be exchanged between two sibs in the same moiety. In the hypothetical event of a kiUing involving Teqwedi and Kagwantan, "They settle with the money. That's brothers. Kagwantan and Teqwedi are brothers—they settle with the money, I think. I never heard of kuwakan between brothers." The same would be true of a murder case involving two houses or lineages, hke Drum House and Bear House. "Pay, I think that's aU. I never heard it that brothers kuwakan." Other informants with whom the matter was dis- cussed agreed that the Thngit of southeastern Alaska might exchange peace hostages between sibs in the same moiety. "They do that outside from Yakutat, not in Yakutat—Kagwantan and Wuckitan," and a case involving these two WoK sibs at KiUisnoo near Angoon was cited, as was the war between the Sitka Kagwantan and the WrangeU Nanya'ayi, both Wolves, when the peace officers from WrangeU were murdered at Sitka. Restitution and Retribution: Evening the Score At Yakutat, settlements of feuds within the moiety did not involve further kiUings to even the score. The wealth given for blood money or damages in such cases consisted of money, goods, and also of property caUed 'Atu, that is, crests, emblems, or "totems" (p. 452). In other words, crest objects or ceremonial privileges were transferred from one side or house to another. This did not disturb the ordinary totemic ahnement, since both parties already shared the major totemic crests. These payments must, therefore, have con- sisted of the same kinds of property that would be given by a high-class man to his future father-in-law. Indeed, in a later generation, perhaps as a gesture of good will, the same crest object might be returned to the original owners as bride price (p. 459). Quite possibly the anomalous position of the Beaver and the Golden Eagle (gidjuk, "Hawk"), as crests of both Wolf and Raven sibs in different parts of Alaska, can be as readUy interpreted as consequences of peace- making as of capture in tune of war, for we cannot eliminate the possibUity that crest objects or rights to crests were also given away in peacemaking between sibs in opposite moieties. We should note in this connection that the Aiyan chief (Fort Selkirk, Yukon?) who felt guUty because the CAnkuqedi whom he had invited to visit him had drowned on the way, adopted the CAnkuqedi as his brothers, and gave them "four of his precious potlatch songs" in compensation (p. 248). Perhaps this was the same kind of payment. It wUl also be remembered that after the "kind of war" between the Yakutat people and the visiting Tsimshian, the latter gave songs "for forgivenness" (p. 286). Ceremonial services may also foUow a peace cere- mony between sibs in opposite moieties, further settling the trouble. Thus when Ldaxin (Tl'uknaxAdi) by mis- take kUled the son of his "uncle," Ckman, by his Galyix-Kagwantan wife, Qu'ya, this made trouble be- tween the two sibs. The father of the dead youth, Ckman, was taken as 'deer' in a peace dance, and later, as a gesture of further goodwUl he buUt Wolf Bath House in the Old VUlage for his wife's people. (Not only had the usual property been paid for the dead youth, but the father in his turn would certainly have been recompensed for his labor at the house- buUding potlatch.) Later, Ldaxin's true mother's brother, YakunaxEn, married Qu'ya, and their son was named YAkuwat, after the slain youth. This naming was also interpreted as settling any hard feelings. Property might be seized to force the payment of damages. Thus a trophy scalp could be held for ransom in a legal case involving a kUling. For example, the K^ackqwan at Yakutat kept the scalp of a man caUed Qaginuk"^, identified only as "an outsider," because his famUy had kiUed a K'^ackqwan, and the latter had not kUled anyone in retahation. It was never made clear how they obtained the scalp, unless Qaginuk'' died a natural death. It was hoped that the scalp would be redeemed, but it never was. Yakutat Charley (WutMAl', S'istcak^-'ic, 1862-1920) exhibited it and wore it at the potlatch for Fort House, and it was eventuaUy buried with him. Wars or serious feuds usuaUy could not be settled simply by payments of property. For each extra life lost on one side, another from their enemies might be demanded in compensation, to even the score. It wiU be remembered that DaxquwAdEu accused the C^Atqwan IN THREE PARTS WAR AND PEACE 595 of treating the Kagwantan hke their fathers' slaves because they were trying to make peace without paying for the Kagwantan hves they had taken. And that payment had to be in their blood, to make the losses even. It was in this way that the Kagwantan champion justified his killing of the C^tqwan peace mission (p. 283). The usual procedure was for the nakani to go to the aggrieved chief and find out whom he demanded as a sacrifice. It was seldom the actual kUler, in cases of murder, unless he and his victim happened to be of equal rank. More often a substitute was demanded. "The chief of the opposite tribe mentions who's to be kUled. It has to be an equal for the dead man. Then their own chief caUs out the one who has to die to equal things up." In the old days, if the oldest brother had been designated to be kUled in payment for a death in another sib, the younger brother was supposed to step forward to take his place. "The younger brother is supposed to save the oldest brother when the opposite tribe mentions who's to be kiUed." Remembering this tradition, one of my informant's sons who was serving in Alaska during World War II, wanted to be sent to Germany where his oldest brother was fighting. He wrote to his father, "Let me be kUled before my oldest brother—^like the Indians used to do." Sometimes, the opposite side did not insist on the sacrifice of a hfe. Perhaps this might happen if tempers had been aUowed to cool, and the nakani had been very persuasive. Perhaps sibs in the same town would be more ready to compromise. At any event I was also told: "Sometimes the man who was supposed to be kUled in payment would say he didn't want to die. Then his chief would say: 'AU right, we'U pay for you.' The man wasn't thought a coward. [However, see below, the statement of the same informant. Probably in tbis case the man would have gone if necessary.] His chief would send word to the chief of the opposite tribe, and that chief would say it was aU right, too. So then they would just get a lot of money in payment for their man who had been kiUed before, and they would not kUl anybody more to make up for it." There was some question as to whether the life of a woman equaUed that of a man. In one case of accidental deaths at Dry Bay, the Thik'^axAdi were not satisfied because thay had lost a man, and the CAnkuqedi a girl. ", . . the one that drowned, that's a girl, you know. That's lower than a man. That's why my father don't satisfied." Yet this same woman informant on another occasion agreed with a friend that sex made no differ- ence, if both parties were aristocrats ('anyAdi). Nor was age a consideration. What was important was social rank. "If that old man and this young man [were kUled]—that's the same 'anyAdi, If one is higher than 265-517—72—vol. VII, pt. 2 5 the other, that's not even. They're going to kiU two of them." And again: "When they kUl 'anyAdi [in a war, or by accident], four people they kiU on the other tribe. That's the way I hear." After confirmation from MJ, she added: "They wouldn't take no pay except there [in the case of] anybody that's high class people. They wouldn't take no pay or else they do something even. On the other side high-class people they just even up. If he's higher than the other side, there's got to be four kiUed." Like the Thngit in southeastern Alaska, I imagine that the Yakutat people probably tried to match the victim in sex as weU as in rank with the one who had been slain. I do not know, however, if injury to the face of an aristocrat warranted the deaths of one or two lower class men, as in southeastern Alaska (Jones, 1914, pp. 194, 198), yet the fact that Chief Daqusetc was injured in the face during the war between the Bear House Teqwedi and the Tlaxayik-Teqwedi was mentioned as if it constituted a serious grievance (p. 251). Probably no greater degree of heroism or seK-sacrifice for the good of one's people was exhibited than that of the man or woman who had to walk out and dehber- ately aUow himself or herself to be kiUed to make up for the deed which another had committed in the heat of battle or passion. "In olden days—suppose my tribe [K'^ackqwan] made war with Teqwedi. We kUl so much, we're going to pay. Either pay with a life, see? What you caU a 'gentleman's war,' Indian war. If I kUl so many of Olaf's tribe [Teqwedi], I [as K^'ackqwan chief] ask him, 'We want to pay.' "We send nakani, my brother-in-law, over there. Olaf [the Teqwedi chief] is going to mention my tribe's life, how many they want. I'm going to send them over there. He's going to kUl it. "Sometimes they paid by property, but if the chief don't want property, maybe he mention my brother. I have to send him. They're aU equal when they have a peace [i.e., each side must be even in its losses]." There was no escape from this sacrifice: "No, you just have to go. It's a coward then [if you refuse]. If I stop my brother, I'm a coward. And if they mention my name, my brother can't stop me." (See, however, above.) If the man who had been kiUed on one side were of very high rank, it is "sometimes two against one," to make even. But when it was suggested that the enemy chief might be unfair in demanding too many hves for settlement, our informant rephed that this made no difference. "I think it just has to be. It's olden days, before White man." Another said: 596 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 "They had the strongest law that no White man can break it. Like my brother killed your sister. I'm 'anyAdi. . . . Then they have to match a death. They go by the class, even if they kiU by accident. . . , They look for an equal. They put on their best clothes when they come out to their death." She evidently was imagining herself as the matching victim to my sister. As Swanton has wT-itten (1908, p. 449): "If a man were kUled and the murderer escaped into his own house, the people of the murdered man held a councU, and if they thought that he was not of high enough caste to make up for the dead person they went out and caUed the name of one belonging to the same clan who answered the requirements. This person then had to put on his best clothing and run out to be kUled, though before this happened he tried to stab one of his would-be slayers. After that the actual murderer was punished by his friends by being com- peUed to pay a great deal of property [presumably to the close kin of the sacrificed champion]." The person who had committed the initial kUling or who had caused the "war" by inciting to violence, was punished by his or her own sib, and his shame was remembered. Thus, the faithless KiksAdi wife of the Kagwantan man whose intrigues with her CxAtqwan lover precipitated war between the two sibs was cited as an example to shun, in contrast to the virtues of other women. "If I make trouble over there, if somebody died out of me, if somebody gets kiUed out of what I say," said a woman, "they're going to take me for a slave. That's the way it used to be, olden times. They used to grab kids by the hair. That's what my mother said: 'Sit down over there! Don't talk about outside things. You're going to have a war or something.' That's the way olden time is. That's why that Kagwantan cawu [women] are like that Tl'uknaca [Tl'uknaxAdi women]. That's why they don't have a war out of those people." Responsible people do not hke to teU stories of old wars because these are likely to revive the troubles and lead to more kUlings. With reference to the history of the Kagwantan-CxAtqwan war: "I think they [the Sitka Kagwantan] don't try to teU that story. That's why we know more in Yakutat. They don't teU it amongst themselves, because it's against the Indian law. "It's this way: After the war's over, they don't teU it any more. Especially now, today, drinking going on. That's why they don't teU it any more. It's aU right if Kagwantan teU it." Here we see the recognition that no harm can come from teUing the story far away from the homes of the principals, balanced against a recognition of Kag- wantan rights in their own history. However, to cost the life of a sib-mate by making trouble with another sib so that his life had to be forfeited to make peace was the most despicable act. The troublemaker might even be kUled by his own people. His lawlessness put him outside the social order, like a slave; his reckless acts were like the crazy treason of witchcraft. An informant expressed the attitude towards such a malefactor: "When a person's like that, they jump him so much he's down to nothing. If he breaks it [the "law"], like a kUling, it costs his tribe's hfe. It leads to wars. Have to be very careful—^preach to one another how to act. Might even become a 'slave.' Those people who become slaves like that, they don't labor—^just called 'slaves'—no good for anything. Sometimes they caU them 'witchcraft' [a witch]. They have no respect for him, kick him out of the way." The Peace Ceremony: Seizing the 'Deer' The exchange of hostages, often caUed "peace- makers," "peace officers," or "peace dancers" in Eng- lish, was supposed to end the war or the trouble. These persons, always men or women of high rank, were under supernatural sanction to be peaceful. They were caUed deer (kuwakan) because "The Indian people beheved that deer never make no harm. That's why they caU them that." "Kuwakan, 'deer,' they're so innocent." Another informant explained "Deer, they can't get mad. Even you touch deer, they're not going to kick you or something. I guess that's why they caU [them] hke that. It's against our rules [for] kuwakan to fight with other people. They can't." These hostages were subject to many taboos, de- signed to insure peacefxU behavior. Their persons were also supposed to be mviolate. "Kuwakan—you can't kUl him. After he become kuwakan, can't make trouble with hun any more. He become brother of the other tribe [his captors]." He was not, however, caUed 'brother.' When a man was taken as a peace hostage, it was as if he 'turned into a woman' (cawAt wusiti). "Ten days it's [he's] gomg to turn to a girl. He can't do anything. He can't get mad, he can't talk funny, you know. Quiet, like a gu-1." The mformant made it very clear that he is never compared to a transvestite or homo- sexual (gAtxan, 'coward'). Rather, he obeys taboos sunUar to those of the adolescent gu-1 and the widow. IdeaUy four 'deer' were taken from each side, care- fuUy pau-ed as to social status, and preferably, if rank permitted, close kui to the slain and to the person or persons held responsible for the death. If a woman were IN THREE PARTS WAR AND PEACE 597 taken on one side, her 'opposite' (geyi) should also be a woman. It was, of course, never possible to make equal restitution or retribution after a "war," and second thought might find the settlement unsatisfactory. Since the peace ceremony with exchange of hostages invoked supernatural sanctions against further violence, it was an appropriate measure to be initiated by the side that feared or knew that they had faUed completely to satisfy their opponents. This would be done by seizing hostages from the latter, and offering some of their own members in exchange. Of course, there was always the risk that the opponents would refuse to accept the offered hostages as 'deer' but would instead kiU them, or simply continue the war. For example, in explaining a case at Dry Bay in 1902, a man was captured as a peace hostage because he was not satisfied with what had been paid for the death of his brother. "He's not satisfied. That's why they catch kuwakan. That's the only way they settled everything. . . . They make peace. Everybody's that way. But if they're not satisfied they take one of the other tribe for ku- wakan; and the other ones take it for kuwakan. Then they make peace .... They wouldn't have to make peace if they satisfied. . . . Just when they're not satisfied, that's the time they go like that—they make kuwakan." In another case at Dry Bay in 1907, a peace ceremony was held because the man who had caused the deaths of two guests by serving poisonous homebrew at a potlatch was too poor to pay. These peace ceremonies were the more easily arranged because retributive kiUings would have been punished by U.S. law. It would thus appear that the side desiring peace takes the initiative by seizing a prominent man of their opponent's side as a 'deer.' Assuming that the others respect the conventions, and fear the threat of misfortune if they break the rules, this act would be equivalent to forcing them to make peace. Appar- ently such seizure of a 'deer' might be attempted even before nakani had acted as mediators. Thus, the C:^Atqwan tried to make a 'deer' of the captive they had maltreated when they saw a superior force of Kagwantan approaching (p. 281). When the Yakutat natives were trying to capture Captain Bustamente and other Spaniards, they were probably trying to take them as 'deer' and thus force the Spaniards to reopen peaceful trade (p. 150). It is doubtful that the Thngit understood the exchange of hostages in the same terms as did Europeans. Peace hostages were usuaUy taken in a mock battle, in much the same way that persons were kUled to even up deaths. Thus, aU the men of one sib, armed with guns and other weapons, and all painted as if for war, would assemble outside the house of the person desired as a 'deer.' Here they would caU: "Come on, come out now! Your sAiii (father's brothers) want you," and they mention especiaUy the names of their dead relatives. "(heyux nagiJ) Come out here! ('isAui 'ate 'iyiga yadu) Your uncles out there for you are waiting. ('isAui 'iyiga jkduht dutuwuk) Your uncle wants to see you. (du tuwasigu 'iwistine) He wants to see you." And, explained the informant, "if you don't come out over there, you're going to have bad luck." The reluctant 'deer' would get sick and die, or fatal Ulness attack some other member of his famUy. "That's why he just have to go out there." MJ explained: "If they caUed them to come out and they refused to come out, that means there's stiU war on hand. They stUl have argument towards one another. That's why they capture the opposite tribe. . . . [The informant's sister had been kuwakan]. For instance, that sister of mine, if she refused to come out, they have to kUl her. . . ." The 'deer' also put on war paint ('uxeyuditiy[?]) on their face, "to show they're not coward," and came out to face the enemy. There was of course some danger, even if the chiefs and principals in the dispute had agreed to peace, that some hothead might shoot the 'deer.' Thus, we can understand why the desig- nated hostage might be reluctant. When the hostages emerged from their houses, a sham battle ensued in which they were supposedly kUled. When MJ was a little girl and her older sister, ]Xosal- tla, was taken as a 'deer,' she was terrified. "I thought they killed her with aU those guns going. . . . They just go out there, pretend they're going to kiU her in place of that woman [the one whose death had necessitated the ceremony]. . . . The people got together and shot off guns. They took aU the buUets out so people wouldn't get hurt. . . . They were shooting and haUooing, and grabbing hostages—four from each side." The house to which the 'deer' were taken had been speciaUy prepared, and the four 'deer' would be captured and carried into it, one at a time, and laid on bedding at the head of the house. "Four men grab you and take you inside. Carry kuwakan in hke they're dead. Gee, I was scared when they took my sister m! I thought they kUled her when the gun went off. She was just like a rag." (MJ) "They hold you like that [on outstretched arms], like you died. You can't do anything when they catch you. You can't. That's against the law—that kuwakan get mad, you know. Your people's going to die off, or else that opposite people, different tribe's going to die off." For the kuwakan to resist, "It's just hke they use a knife or something. Just like they cut a famUy's head. 598 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 That's the way they know it." MeanwhUe, the other sib, with equal noise and excitement, were capturing their 'opposites,' and carry- ing them into their lineage house. The Peace Ceremony: The Role of the 'Deer* The 'deer' were kept in their respective captors' or 'masters'' houses for a ritual period of 8 days, with dances every night. Then on the foUowing night, the hostages were taken home where they and their captors were feasted, and on the last (10th) night, they aU met together in one house for a final dance and feast, when the hostages were freed. This form of the ceremony is apparently one which could only be held when both sides were residents of the same town. In a real war, this would not be the case, and the 'deer' might be held by his 'masters' for a year. The peace ceremony would obviously be held at the town of one of the former enemies. Perhaps it was also shorter, for when the C^tqwan came to Sitka to make peace, it was to be a 4-days' dance, with the Kagwantan and the C:^tqwan 'deer' taking turns dancing, apparently supervised by nakani from both sides (pp. 282-284). A person serving as a 'deer' was tabooed from doing anything. One or two men would be appointed to wait on each hostage, and if the latter were a woman she would have woman attendants. The latter sat beside their charge aU the time to care for him. "He can't do anything for himself—can't even wash his own face. He has to use his left hand, because his right hand causes trouble," and the informant made the gesture of stabbing. To insure that the right hand was kept idle, the fingers were laced together with cord, as was done to a mens truant. "Somebody has to be with [the 'deer'] aU the time— Wash their face, wash their hands. Oh, that's awful red tape! One side of the hand tied up, hooked up with string. They're stringing up their right hand. Just eating with that left side [hand]. UntU a week, I think, or so. And then they went through a lot of red tape, and they change it to the right place." "If someone is lazy, they say: 'You're not kuwakan. We aren't going to wait on you.'" The 'deer' was forbidden to scratch himself with his fingernails, for this would mean "agitating more war." Instead he was given a flat hard rock, or rubbing amulet (kA^adat teyi), with which to scratch any place that itched. This hung by a string around his neck. Because he was forbidden to touch his head, his "servants" combed his hair for him. According to MJ, the 'deer' had to rub his mouth with this stone every morning during the ritual period of his confinement, before the raven caUs, so that he would not cause more trouble by his speech. Another informant, however, described the rock as a "round one," It was taboo for him to address anyone but his attendants, and before he did so, moreover, "just like wetedi [menstruant]," he rubbed the rock around his mouth, put it under his feet, and stepped on it. If this taboo were broken, either the captors' sib or the deer's sib would "die off." Or, "If he do some- thing, he's going to get crazy when he get old. That's ligas [taboo]." During the daytime this rock was kept "in his pocket," and at night the 'deer' slept with it "under his piUow." After "about 10 days," the rock was put into a hole dug under an old faUen tree and pUed over Avith stones and mud. If the 'deer' lost the rock, then he would apparently become paranoid. "He get crazy. Anything he hears, he always go around, get mad about it. . . . When he got old he's going to be bad, that man." Another sanction was palsy. When old, he would shake "just like a leaf ... in the cold wind." Every word and gesture of the hostages was watched to make sure that there were no signs of anger or hard feelings. To prevent, or perhaps to drown out any expression of resentment, or perhaps to undo the breach of taboo, aU his captors would utter the ritual cry "Waaa4!" "They aU say 'waaai!' (wucdasegA UAS 'awuduwAla)." "Everybody just saying 'waaaal* No more—they [the deer] can't do anything. Never get mad. He can't do anything (du dax wuduwAla), they caU it." All of the captor's group, men and women, apparently held out their arms as if they were carrying the 'deer.' "Just like a baby. AU the people's going to catch it, hold it like this." "If you captured as peace officer, you dare not mention hard word, or else they say 'waaaa.' Even if it's two or three [words], they saying that. Make you cahn down ('adataletc). That's one thing, that peace officers doesn't dare quarrel with anybody." Swanton has written about the proper conduct of the 'deer,' (1908, p. 451 n. b): "WhUe he acted in this capacity his wife was not aUowed to look at him, and certain men watched over him, took care of his toUet sticks, etc. He carried the taU feathers of eagles in each hand and wore eagle's down and quiUs in his hair." My informants also stressed the sexual taboos with which the 'deer' was surrounded. It was only in default of properly qualified attendants of his own sex that those of the opposite sex were provided. Furthermore, the spouse of the 'deer' was not aUowed near. Even though Qanatin, the wife of Qeduaxtc, was one of the nakani when her husband was taken as a 'deer' in 1902, she was not aUowed to approach him. She could go to IN THREE PARTS WAR AND PEACE 599 the house where he was held, but neither she nor their 7-year-old daughter could go toward the back of the house where he sat, not could they caU to him. Apparently for the first day, the 'deer' fasted. Then whenever he put anything to his mouth, aU those in the house caUed "waaad." Whatever water was left after he drank was taken into the woods in back and poured into an old stump. The cry "waaad," was uttered again "when they change to the right hand," that is, when this was unbound and he was aUowed to use it in eating. However, it was not clear from the informant's contradictory remarks whether the right hand could be used after 4, or after 8 days. At the end, the string that had been laced through the fingers was tied around an old stump to rot, and thereby insure the 'deer' a long and peaceful life. Peace hostages were also subject to a number of food taboos, simUar to those of the adolescent girl. Hot food, hot soup, was forbidden, or "when they old like us, they sweating so easy." Fresh fish was also avoided because it was sHppery, and would make money slip away, or would make it impossible for him to catch fish with a spear. Fishskin would bring spots to the face in old age. "Beachfood" (shellfish and seaweed) meant poverty. "Indian rice" (root of the Kamchatka lUy) and "even that White people's rice" was taboo "because they get fat," in the way the rice swells up as it is cooked. Bear meat, fresh or dried, was also forbidden, because the bear is cranky. But mountain goat meat put up in seal oU, dried fish, and fresh or preserved berries were permitted. The same taboos applied to the attendants, and probably to aU those who slept in the house with the hostages. To be in the house with the peace hostages gave these people a chance to "wish for something in their mind aU the time," good luck, money, a good living, and aU else desirable. They were supposed to wake early, before the raven caUed, and to rouse the 'deer' with a long "waaad!" The Peace Ceremony: Naming and Dressing the 'Deer* The first day that the hostages were taken was usually quiet, whUe the ceremonial dancing began the evening of the next day. At least this was apparently the program at Dry Bay in 1902, smce the hostages had been seized late in the day. "[That evenmg] they just sit down. Everybody sits with him [the kuwakan]. Big house, you know. . . . Just like a party. Everybody doing somethmg over there. Just that kuwakan sittmg over there. AU those people working. [He \YSLS sitting] deyikA [back waU opposite the door]. There's something underneath him—blan- kets, good blankets. They sit down." The composer of the special song to which the hostage would dance would rehearse it in his mind. The next morning he sang it to aU his people so that they could learn it. The hostage or hostages sat sUently whUe their captors rehearsed the song. It was at this time also that the people announced the new peace names for the 'deer.' A Yakutat informant, however, reported a somewhat different schedule, "Peace-makers used to sing early in the morning before the crew [their captors]. Then they would sleep tUl they get something to eat. Each had a lady of the opposite tribe to take care of them." (MJ) Everyone agreed on the importance of the new peace names given to the hostages by their captor-hosts. In some cases the name became so closely associated with the individual that he was known by this instead of by his ordinary birth name or his honorific potlatch name. The song to which he or she was to dance for the 8 critical nights of the ceremony also became known as "his" or "her song," and the words either specificaUy mentioned the peace name or aUuded to it. Such a song would be sung again, "when it comes to pot- latching." If the hostage were of rank, it was not unusual for him to be given up to three "kuwakan names," each of which would be featured in a separate song. I suspect, but cannot be sure, that this multiple naming was a device employed when only one peace hostage was taken from each side instead of four. When several 'deer' are taken, each seems to receive only one name. Unfortunately, I do not know whether there is also a separate song for each, but assume that this is likely. Kuwakan names are said to be derived from some crest or valued possession belonging to the donors, or may symbolize something suggestive of good wUl, even though the association may seem to us rather far- fetched. Thus, the K'^ackqwan have used as sources of names their crests, the Moon (dis kuwakan), the White Raven (yel tied; p. 457), as weU as Mount Saint Ehas (ca kuwakan) and Glacier Point below it (sit ±& kuwakan). The Tluk^'axAdi have sunUarly used Gate- way Knob (kit6a kuwakan), a landmark in their territory associated with sib traditions and Raven myths (p. 87), and they have also used the Dog Spirit (ketl kuwakan) of their famous shaman, Qutcda. Another name given by the K^'ackqwan was Wedge (yis kuwakan), because "when you spht wood, your whole body open—no hard feehngs towards one another." Similarly the Teqwedi used DoUar (dAna kuwakan); the CAnkuqedi used Mortar (te^Ayit kuwakan), "because CAnkuqedi got a pot to pound gold in," and the Sun 600 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 (^Agan kuwakan) because they claimed it as a crest. Fort (nu kuwakan) and Armor (sAuket kuwakan), both given by the CAnkuqedi suggest protection. The Ameri- can Flag (tit 'ank'^eyi kuwakan) was used by the Tluk^axAdi because it aroused elevated feehngs. Other names, for which I can offer no explanation, were Fish Rack (xanAs kuwakan) and TraU (de kuwakan), both given by the CAnkuqedi; Stone Canoe (tE yak^). River Marker (hin k^eyi), and Kwel (or x'^etl) kuwakan, given by the Quskedi of Sitka to a Kagwantan man. Fishtrap (cal kuwakan) was given to the brother of Chief Yaxodaqet, probably by the Teqwedi, and my informant speciUated that it referred to the big trap at Diyaguna'Et. For the whole period of their captivity, the peace hostages were speciaUy dressed in fine garments pro- vided by their captors. Most important, as a symbol of peace, were the two feathers (kuwakan tawu), standing up like a V at the top of the head. Originally they were eagle plumes, as they were for one ceremony in 1907; more often at Yakutat they were made of sUver, incised with the crest or crests of the donors (pi. 135). These feathers were fastened to a band of ermine fur that crossed the top of the head and hung down over the ears. The whole skin was used, taken off like a little bag. When Qeduaxtc, a Thik^axAdi man, was a hostage in the CAnkuqedi Thunderbird House in Dry Bay, 1902, he wore two white feathers attached to an ermine skin and a white handkerchief on his head, big earrings of shark's teeth, and a button blanket. When Mrs. Situk Jim (Xosal-tla), a K'^ackqwan woman, was a 'deer,' she wore a black Navy "handkerchief" tied around her head, two sUver feathers fastened to the middle of the ermine skin across her head, and a purple-red Hudson's Bay cockade, sticking up at the back. Her face was painted with a single line of red, "a streak about as wide as a finger—just one line," that ran diagonally down from left to right, across the face (fig. 69a). She wore a fine button blanket, fastened under the chin. AU 'deer' were simUarly garbed in fine regaha, but the patterns of face painting varied. Thus, on another occasion, the hostages had a slanting red hue drawn down from the corners of the nose across the jaw on each side of the mouth (fig. 695). Two of the song leaders at the potlatch at Sitka in 1904 seem to have been dressed like peace hostages (pi. 210). One wears an ermine coat(?), dancing bib, and two cut white feathers rising from the top of his cap which is made of alternating white and dark bands of fur or feathers. He was identified as George Dick, and holds a Raven dance wand. One of the young Teqwedi guests at a Yakutat potlatch in 1916, Nick MUton, has a somewhat simUar headband of bead- work(?) drawn down over a black handkerchief that covered his head (pi. 214). Two white feathers rise like a V in back. He wears a crest shu-t (Eagle?), holds up his white gloved hands as if in surrender, and has his face blackened. Although we cannot be sure that these men were really dressed as 'deer' would have been, their costume is suggestive. liiiM red pain+ FIGURE 69.—Face painting for peace hostages, a, :?[osal-tla, according to Minnie Johnson, h, Mrs. Lituya Bay George, according to Jenny White. An informant specified that it was the sibhngs of the hostage's "opposite" who not only acted as attend- ants but supphed the articles of adornment for the 'deer,' as weU as dishes for the accompanying feasts. "The sister has to stand the expense if her brother gets taken. She has to furnish everything and take care of the one who takes her brother's place. Anything fancy they got, like Hudson Bay feathers, t'aw [cockade], they use. [If] you're so confounded poor you can't afford to take care of your brother. You got to dig into your trunk to keep up with the other side. You use expensive Hudson Bay dish and cup—anything expensive in your posses- sion, you got to get out." The 'deer' keeps the beautiful clothes and feathers with which he has been dressed. "You preach to your daughter or son to have prepared in case of things like that, so you wouldn't get stuck. You have to supply your opposite—'i geyi. Charley [my brother] and I have to supply my sister's geyi [when she was kuwakan]. My mother helped us. Charley's already married, and I got to stand my sister's geyi— his shoes and clothes and everything. That's when you see fancy moccasins, knitted stockings. . . . That's why they have that saying, a long time ago—dAua 'axa' XAx 'awunaye—'That eats up the money,' that IN THREE PARTS WAR AND PEACE 601 peace officer. And if you're poor you can't afford to dress up your own kuwakan. That means you're no good amongst your own famUy. 'It eats up the money when you got your own relation captured as peace officer.' " (MJ) The Peace Ceremony: Eight Nights Dancing The 8 nights of dancing were separately observed by the two groups, each with their captured 'deer' in one of their own lineage houses. "Eight days—eight bones in your body—got to make up" (MJ; see p. 761). My informant (MJ) described the dance as foUows: "The tribe [captors] dance. They come in just hke they're fighting. They got dance paddles in the hands, they stamp their feet, just hke they're wUd. Towards the end, the peace officers come in with their servants. They got button blankets, they got their faces painted," and the two feathers on their head. ". . . You see aU that coming in, coming in just hke they're wUd. Act like soldiers with a gun. They got some kind of jiggers in the hands, made out of wood, shavings hke. Some of them rattle in the hand. Some of them using old tribal [dance paddles? The sentence was never finished]." The wooden "tassels" (kuwAlAkAuki), carried by the captors, were about 12 inches long, the middle part of a size to be grasped conveniently. The ends were cut into large tassels of shavings. These objects were brandished in a threatening manner. "They come m with those tassels. 'U! U! U! U!'—just like they were in a war. They paint their faces, stamp their feet, and everything, just hke they were in a war." It was not clear whether the captors used the red paint of friendly ceremonial or the black paint of war. "You dance—that costumes—just to make peace with them and make them feel good. There's no gun, nothing but that things in then- hand." When the kuwakan come in, they first stand with theu- faces to the waU, backs to the room, each flanked by a pair of attendants. "When they first come in, too, they ... the peace officers, supposed to be four of them . . . turn their back towards you untU they sing some king of song, by each one of them, belonging to the famUy—the tribal songs. . . . Each peace officer sings a song. Then they go around as the sun goes around, then they turn to face the people. When they first come in, they stand hke that [backs to the room fuU of theu' captors], untU the tune comes they [the captors?] say 'waaaa,' then they turn the face. . . . That woman and that man stand each side of them. "Then they start to dance. My sister imitate a doUar moving, because they caU her dAna [dollar] kuwakan. The song is composed hke that: '. . . Just hke a sUver doUar tied up around your neck.' Teqwedi [her captors] got a big piece of tin about that big [6 inches in diameter], and imitate it was a doUar. Tied it on her servant, because she's got that Teqwedi- yAtxi feehng, like a sUver doUar. 'The Wolf tribe wiU get that sUver doUar in their hair.' " In the song (1954, 1-2-D; p. 1247), the Teqwedi express their love for their sib-chUdren, the K^ackqwan, and for the hostage in particular, hke a sUver doUar. The symbohc sUver doUar was worn by the attendant, not by the 'deer' named DoUar kuwakan. One would gather from Swanton's pictures of the Fort Hat and the Fish Trap Hat (1908, pis. L, a, XLIX, i), which were worn by the 'deer' so named, that it was more customary for the hostage himself to wear the symbol appropriate to his name. In the case described by my informant, the female hostage, DAna kuwakan, held the edges of her button blanket in her hands, her arms down at her sides, and danced—"just her body, not her hands," turning within the circle made by the arms of her two women attendants who held each other's hands. At another peace dance, described by the same informant, the attendants "got hold of each corner of his button blanket. Go around four times hke that (sunwise). The whole tribe stand before him and make some kind of noise." WhUe DAna kuwakan (Mrs. Situk Jim) was dancing, the Teqwedi men sang her song. Later there were funny songs. "And aU the Teqwedi's wives [in this case Tl'uknaxAdi women], sitting in a line [down one side of the house?], help them to sing. And they jump up and down when they singing, too, the ladies. They caU them qaiiisi cawu ['wives of the men's feet']—that's Teqwedi's wives. Each Teqwedi got a wife sitting on the floor. They got a bench for them to sit. 'Ladies sitting amongst the feet'—tlayi ca—'sitting-down women.' "They sit down and help them to sing. Each one had to sing. Your turn coming and you have to find some kind of a song—lively song, any kind of song that's cheer the tribe, you know." The informant gestured as if to indicate the turn passing one by one along the line of seated women. "And she got a song, and they caU her name and she has to sing. They [the Teqwedi husbands] dance by them. Their wife, they got to help their husband. . . . Husbands dance and sing at the same time, but it sound more lively when the ladies are singing." 602 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 These "hvely songs" were apt to be the humorous Raven songs, or teasing songs for chUdren (see pp. 570-571). The "tribal songs" sung by the 'deer' would be the solemn, ancient songs about the sib totem, usuaUy sung by the mourning hosts at a potlatch in memory of the dead. If the 'deer' made any mistake in singing their songs, everyone would cry "waaaa!" "They waaa the boots off you!" Different house chiefs might take turns in inviting "the kuwakan into his house." For example, on one occasion (1904?), the K'^ackqwan hostages and their Teqwedi captors danced fu-st in Drum House, then Shark House, Golden Eagle House, and in Coward House. "They take turns. ... No feast. They just dance." The house chief who issues the invitation does not have to pay anything as he would if a host at a potlatch. "That goes to show that he's in that tribe, too. Just to make peace. That he's got no argument towards them. That means he agreed to have peace amongst them." (MJ) The End of the Peace Ceremony The ceremony ends when the two sides, each with their captives, come together for a final dance. This is caUed 'they're going to meet in the same house' (wuca nel degAxtu'at). There is also a distribution of food, or a feast, given by one side to the other, but it was not made clear whether the two events took place on the same day at Yakutat, or whether, as at Dry Bay, they occurred on two separate days. Nor am I sure whether the final dance should be reckoned as the eighth (or ninth?) day of dancing. For this final dance, both sides come into the same house with their 'deer.' First one group entered, "and they sit back untU the others come in." The two parties seem to have faced each other across the house, but as usual, their hostages turned their faces towards the waU. "You don't have to look at your opposite dancing, either." Fu-st one set of 'deer,' would dance, then the other. Apparently "they just going around like that [arms upstretched] three or four times. And then the person captured goes to their own tribe—the four of them. And this one goes to their own tribe." One gets the impression that the hostages simply crossed the house to join their sibmates. "It comes to a place when they're going to meet and get it over with." Then foUowed the feasting. "And when they get over with kuwakan, give the opposite tribe some kmd of feast. Go around, distribute amongst them. That's when they bring out Hudson Bay dishes and things like that. . . . Show off that they're not starving their kuwakan. Their kuwakan is treating to the opposite tribe." "After they get it aU settled, they have a big feast. That's the time you get out what you put up for precious treasures of your own. Both sides feast one another. . . . Either side first—no particular. . . . They just peaceful together, eat together, no more trouble. And aU the tribes getting included." The neutral sibs in the community would also be invited, and all the lineage houses on each side, if they could afford it, would invite their "opposites" or erstwhile enemies to such feasts. At the Dry Bay peace ceremony in 1902, only two houses were involved: Thunderbird House of the CAnkuqedi, and Far Out House of the Tluk'^axAdi (and Tl'uknaxAdi). After 8 days (and it must be remembered that there was no dancing the first night), the two 'deer' were taken by their respective captors back to their own houses. The two groups sunply passed each other on the way. Each group was feasted in the house of their opponents (apparently by the latter's spouses), then returned with their captives to their own house for the last night. On the 10th night, there was the reaUy big dance, the two hostages dancing on opposite sides of the same house (Thunder- bird House), and the big feast was also held there. "They eat good, that kuwakan. That 10th night they sure had a good time! Anything you got, you take it out. Feed each other. Big time." This occasion marked the lifting of taboos (li^as kawudzUse hut6awe). "Everybody is free." The hos- tage, m particular, is free from restrictions. "He go to his wife, he can do anything he wants. . . . AU over." ^ The former hostage kept the feathers that had been given him, for henceforth he was dedicated to peace. "Kuwakan?—always. Every time that kuwakan, he's a peacemaker. After he became a kuwakan, he's a peacemaker aU the time. Suppose I'm kuwakan to Teqwedi [the speaker was K'^ackqwan], Every tune Teqwedi had trouble, I put my feather on, which feather they gave me; I go over there and make it peace. Kuwakan always make it peace." Unfortunately, no further detaUs were obtained, but one gathers that the 'deer' could now act as go-between for his former captors. There is also some reason to believe that the same individual might be taken as a kuwakan for successive peace ceremonies involving the same two sibs. However, this unpression may simply be due to forgetfuhiess on the part of my mformant who may have confused two different but sknUar occasions. One of the masks belongmg to a shaman named Qutcda, which Emmons obtained from his grave house on Dry Bay, represented the spu-it of a peacemaker (pi. 192). Emmons explams m the catalog IN THREE PARTS WAR AND PEACE 603 that if the peacemaker is kiUed, then his spirit has the power of healing the sick. This mask would pre- sumably represent some particular individual who was kiUed whUe acting as kuwakan. It is, however, not clear from Emmons' wording whether the same bene- ficent role is accorded the ghost of the nakani who is kUled when acting as go-between. A Summary of Known Peace Ceremonies The foUowing fragmentary records of peace cere- monies are given in their probable chronological order. For the first few there are no clues to the dates. 1. "Here is a story that old BUly Geddes [White resident of Dry Bay and Yakutat] told me: On one occasion some people from Sitka were visiting here [Yakutat] and two men were drowned. Later a fleet of war canoes came from Sitka and anchored in front of Khantaak ViUage, a messenger went ashore and de- manded that Yakutat pay for aUowing the men to be drowned. They waited in their canoes untU Yakutat had a councU meeting. Then Yakutat went to the beach and did a peace dance. Then retired. Then Sitka dancers came ashore and did a peace dance. Then there was a big feast. A few days later Sitka paddled home with some furs." [Letter from Frank Johnson, November 8, 1964.] 2. Before 1880, the Teqwedi shaman, QadJAqdaqina, was kUled up the Situk, either by another Teqwedi man (KusAx'^k'') or by the K^ackqwan (informants gave confused and contradictory accounts). In some way the K'^ackqwan were involved, however, and took the shaman's nephew, I^adanek Johnstone (1843-88) as 'deer.' His opposite was Nicga, probably John Nishka, later chief of Moon House on Kiantaak Island (d. 1896), or that individual's predecessor. The kuwakan names were not recorded. Because he had not avenged his uncle's death, Johnstone buUt Coward House at Situk, so no one could caU him a coward. 3. Jack Shaw-coo-kawn (T6ictak^ or T^isdjak'') (1831-99), was given the name Mountain [Saint Elias] Deer [ca kuwakan] by the K'^ackqwan. Since he was also a nephew of the murdered shaman, one wonders whether this was at the same peace ceremony as the one in which his brother, ]§ladanek, was a 'deer.' 4. A brother of Chief Yaxodaqet, the K'^ackqwan chief, was given the name Fish Trap Deer (cal ku- wakan), apparently by the Teqwedi, referring to the big trap at Diyaguna'Et. Again, one wonders whether this was at the same peace ceremony for the dead shaman. 265-517—72—VOL VII, pt. 2 6 5. A Sitka Kagwantan man Kuckena, was given the foUowing kuwakan names: Stone Canoe Deer (tE yak'^ kuwakan). River Marker or Buoy Deer (hin k'^eyi kuwakan), and K'^el (or x^'etl) Deer. He was the son of Xa^ hittan, Cow House People, or Quskedi of Sitka, Frank Italio recorded the songs to which he danced (1954, 3-2-Ga,6;). Emma EUis insisted that this was her father's father's song (see no. 9), and that the second verse should have referred to him as AatJkA'ayi-yAtxi. 6. About 1888, whUe hunting at Icy Bay the Tl'uknaxAdi man, Ldaxin (Ldahin) kUled his "uncle's" son by mistake. This was YAkuwat, the Qalyix- Kagwantan son of Ckfn^n by his wife, Mary (Qu'ya'.) YAkuwat was wearing a brown coat and his "cousin" mistook him for a bear. The mother received considerable wealth in compensation. For the peace ceremony, Ckman was taken as 'deer'; and Kayak John On-as-tad (YanEstEt, 1867-1916) was his opposite. Later, Ckman buUt Wolf Bath House in the Old ViUage for the Galyix- Kagwantan, and gave his wife, Mary, to Ms "brother," John Charley Brown (YAq^'unaxEn), who was the true mother's brother to Ldaxin. The son of Mary and John was named YAkuwat after his dead half-brother. 7. About 1890 (?), an old K^ackqwan man, CxAk'^ of Moon House, committed suicide when accused of witchcraft (see p. 743). In some way, the Teqwedi were unphcated, and Situk George (Qayak^-'ic, died after 1916) was chosen as 'deer' by the K'^ackqwan. His name was White Raven (yel tied—was kuwakan omitted?). The name of his opposite was not recorded. 8. In 1894, the Kwackqwan man, Jimmy Jackson or "Gums" (YlylxgAlfc, 1861-1948), when drunk, is aUeged to have kUled his pregnant Teqwedi wife, Cuk"in, or Mrs. Shookeen (1864-94). She was the daughter of Cada. For the ceremony, Joseph Abraham (1867-1917) and three other Teqwedi were taken as 'deer,' and so were four close relatives of the slayer. The latter were taken to Drum House. At the peace ceremony, the Tl'uknaxAdi women, Mrs. Joseph Abraham, Mrs. Daknaqin, and the latter's sister, who was then Mrs. Peter MUton, helped their Teqwedi husbands with the singing. DetaUs of this ceremony are confused with the later one (no. 11), which also involved the kiUing of a pregnant woman by her husband. 9. The Kagwantan man, Qatan, (EE's father's father), was given the name Armor Deer (sAnket kuwakan) by the Tl'uknaxAdi. This was between 1896 and 1900. 10. In 1902 a peace ceremony was held over the death of the Tluk'^axAdi man, GunanistE. He was the nephew of the shaman Qutcda and had inherited the latter's widow, CAk'^ense, a CAnkuqedi woman. How- ever, two young CAnkuqedi women wanted to marry 604 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 him. One of them, Qatckayi-tla, went, despondent, to gather seagull eggs and was drowned in a flashflood on the Alsek River. A Tl'uknaxAdi girl with her was saved. GunanistE, who was held responsible for the death, had a fit whUe looking for her body, and drowned also. Although cedar chests and blankets were given to the dead man's sibhngs, his brother, Qeduaxtc (also known as Yelkida and GAxtlen; 1879-1907), was not satisfied, because a man's life was worth more than a woman's. The CAnkuqedi therefore seized him as a 'deer' and held him in Thunderbird House. The nakani between the Tluk^axAdi and the CAnkuqedi were Kagwantan: Qatan, the father of the two Tluk'^axAdi brothers, and Qanatin, the wife of Qeduaxtc. Qeduaxtc was given three names; Sun Deer (gAgan kuwakan), Mortar Deer (f^e^Ayit kuwakan), and Fish Rack Deer (xanX§ kuwakan). (This last name was given 5 years later to Dan Smith, see no. 12, and it was also claimed that John WiUiams, Sr., was Sun Deer. Both of these men were also Tluk^axAdi.) The song to which Qeduaxtc danced, imitating "the rising of the sun," was composed by Blind David Dick, CAnkuqedi, but was not recorded. Opposite him was Frank Italio (K'^utcEu, 1870- 1956), who was given three names, although only two were recorded: Gateway Knob Deer (yadag'^.itl in Tlingit, or Isitka, in Athabaskan, kuwakan), and Dog Deer (ketl kuwakan). He was held in Far Out House. When Frank Italio recorded the song with two stanzas to which he had danced as tit6a kuwakan (1954, 3-2-A; p. 1246 he insisted that his opposite had been a K^acliqwan man, Qanuk^, who was caUed Road Deer (de kuwakan). He must have been thinking of another ceremony in which he was also taken as a 'deer.' 11. About 1904(?) the K'^ackqwan son of Situk Jun (probably Jim Q^dllqek or Sanax-'ic), was held re- sponsible for the death of his pregnant Teqwedi wife, Cuk^in (or Cawu-tla). The Teqwedi sized a hostages, his mother, Mrs. Situk Jim (Xosal-tla, 1856-1916), the oldest daughter of ]§[adanek Johnstone. She was named DoUar Deer (dAna kuwakan). The other K^acliqwan hostage was young Jack Shakokan (Nuk'^ane, 1884-1912), son of the peace hostage in no. 3. His kuwakan name was not recorded. They were held in Drum House. Opposite Mrs, Situk Jim was the Teqwedi man, Joseph Abraham (Tsune, Yak'^an, 1867- 1917), who was called Glacier Point Deer (sit :^a kuwakan). Henry Shada (Cxa'e, 1865?-1940) was the other Teqwedi hostage, named Wedge Deer (yis kuwakan). One informant remembered his name as Moon Deer (dis kuwakan). One of the nakani was Chariey White (Yaniki, 1879-1964), the Tl'uknaxAdi half-brother of Mrs. Situk Jun. The latter was at- tended by Olaf Abraham (Qaxuxgu, b. 1886), younger brother of Joseph, and by Mrs. Young George (Cangex", 1854-1927), cousin to the dead woman. Old Bhnd Sampson (Yandulsln, 1866-1948) composed the songs for Mrs. Situk Jim (1954,1-2-D; p. 1247) and also for Joseph Abraham (not recorded). 12. In 1907, two CAnkuqedi men, Gixutske, and his nephew Qalaxel', died after drinking liquor served at a potlatch by John WUhams, Sr. (^uk^atc, 1887- 1943), a Tluk'^axAdi man. He had few relatives and was unable to pay damages, so a peace ceremony was held. The CAnkuqedi taken as hostages were Mary George (Qdtuwuqin, Mrs. Lituya Bay George), the sister and mother of the two dead men, who was named American Flag Deer (tit 'ank'^eyi kuwakan), and with her, her brother, Jack Peterson (Gunak"^, 1870-1938), whose kuwakan name was not remembered. The song to which Mrs. George danced was recorded, (1954, 1-1-A; p. 1247). It was perhaps composed by Bhnd Dave Dick, since he made a mourning song for the victuns (1954, 3-2-K; p. 1174). Theu- respective opposites were two Tluk^axAdi-Tl'uknaxAdi men: Dry Bay Charley (Yelk'ida), who was caUed Fort Deer (nu kuwakan), and his mother's brother, Dan Smith (DAuawAq), who was named Fish Rack Deer (xanls kuwakan). 13. "The last war and peace dance was in 1911. A Raven man got drunk and kiUed his Eagle wife and then when he discovered what he had done, he kUled himseK. First they had war, then peace dance. War was not real. Both Eagles and Ravens blackened their faces as in the old days, and met each other with guns. They pretended to fight by shooting over each other's heads. Then the Eagle side grabbed a Raven man and took him to their community house. That was the beginning of the peace." They had previously decided who was to be taken from each side. "They were looking for the highest man. The other tribe had met to decide who to take. They got someone of the same rank and grabbed him. In this case it was an Eagle woman, mother of the murdered woman, and they took her to the Raven house. When they grabbed them, they caU them 'a deer,' because they are harmless. . . . They were like prisoners, but were reaUy treated like brothers and sisters. They have a good time. Dances went on in each house for 4 days, at the same time. Each feUow imitated what he wanted—used different masks. Had lots of fun. It was the best fun I ever seen. At the end they exchanged the deers." 12. The Potlatch INTRODUCTION The Yakutat Conception of the Potlatch The potlatch was not an isolated ceremony; it was rather a single episode in a series devoted to the memory of the dead. This cycle began before the disposal of the corpse with the smokhag party for the deceased, and culminated perhaps years later with a great cere- mony lasting usually at least 8 days and involving as hosts or as guests every member of the community, as weU as guests invited from another tribe. Within this ceremonial series, the potlatch proper was the climax when the relatives of those who had died distributed gifts to members of the opposite moiety. Then foUowed days of feasting when the guests danced to thank their hosts. The primary purpose of the potlatch was to mourn and honor the dead and to repay in fitting manner the members of the opposite moiety who had tended the corpse or who had worked on a memorial structure. Such memorials always included the grave itself, and if the deceased had been an important man or woman, the lineage house. No one could die without the guuEtkAuayi being caUed upon to perform funerary services, and these persons could be properly repaid only at a potlatch. This was the rule no matter how lowly the deceased or how poor his close relatives. Such people could not afford to sponsor potlatches of their own, but paid their debts at a potlatch given by a wealthy member of their lineage or sib. This meant that any potlatch was always given to conclude the funeral observances for several dead persons. Further- more, all potlatches involved the economic support of aU members of the host's sib, resident or visiting, and even of his whole moiety in the community. And all these persons, before making their contributions to the pUe of wealth intended for the guests, would sing a mourning song or would speak of some dead relative or relatives for whom they were grieving. In this way, the deceased members of the sib and moiety were re- membered and honored. As an informant said: "It's kind of hard to explain it, that Indian law . . . why they give a potlatch. That's what I try to explain it. [If] it's just a small person like me—Suppose I lost my sister. The olden days I giving potlatch. But just a smaU man, a small person, they just invited the town people, maybe a year after. Not a real potlatch, but all the tribe is helping anyway. "It's this way: A person lost his sister or brother or mother—he don't give a potlatch right away. Some- times it takes him about 2, 3, 4 years, sometimes 10 606 years untU he make enough money. Then he give a potlatch. It don't take a smaU money to give a potlatch. It takes a lot of money." "But suppose it was a very poor person?" I asked. "They can do it. They always wait untU somebody giving the potlatch. Suppose I'm just a smaU person. Suppose HM is rich, he's the chief, and suppose I lost my mother or brother. I go into his potlatch. When the song leader mention it's my turn to sing, that's the time I teU people how sorry I am. ... In Enghsh I guess it's just 'the memory of the dead.' I guess that cover the whole thing. But this is the way. In olden days before I born, before my father's born, if any person dies [and his relative] don't give a pot- latch, it just disgrace the tribe [sib]. They call them 'low class'—the tribe." In early days the dead were beheved to receive the spuritual part of the wealth distributed in their names, as weU as the food eaten or put into the fire for them. Indeed, if they were not remembered at potlatches their existence in the afterworld would have been utterly miserable. Functions of the Potlatch From one point of view, the potlatch can be seen as part of the hfe cycle of an individual, since it always follows the death of some prominent person and is concerned primarily with honoring his memory. Since, on the same occasion, aU of the dead among the hosts are remembered and mourned, the potlatch also serves as a period to their individual hves. This concern with the dead is always present, even though the more ap- parent function of a potlatch may be to dedicate a new hneage house, to announce the assumption of a dead chief's title by his successor, or to honor and ennoble the chUdren of a chief. The motives for giving any potlatch are always complex, and it always com- bines several functions. Yet no matter how closely hnked to the death of any individual, or to the aspirations of a chief, this ceremony cannot be understood except in the full context of the relationships between the member of a sib in one moiety and their opposites in the other. One sib, even one lineage for a particular occasion within the potlatch sequence, stands as hosts (assisted by aU the local members of their moiety) and invites members of the opposite moiety. AU members of the opposite IN THREE PARTS THE POTLATCH 607 moiety who are present can find their places among the guests at a potlatch. Yet those who receive the largest rewards, do so by virtue of theu* individual positions, either as ranking sib chiefs or lineage heads, the equals and opposites of the host chief, or as in- dividuals linked by aflBnal (or father-child) ties to the hosts, relationships which have already determined the particular ceremonial services they have rendered. The great ceremonial occasions for the Thngit are aU based upon the hfe crises of individuals. The death of a sib member by violence or accident for which some- one in an opposite sib may be held responsible leads to the peace ceremony. Serious Ulness or other personal misfortune prompts the pubhc seance of the shaman, perhaps the drama of a witchcraft trial of the victim's sibmate, conducted by a shaman from another group (see pp. 735-738). Thus the potlatch, memoriahzing the dead and honoring their hving descendants, may be considered as the final occasion among many, at which the guuEtkAuayi have assisted in the important rites marking the critical stages in the hfe of an individual. But now, in performing this last service and in receiving their rewards, the occasion is magnified by ceremonial into the most important in Thngit social hfe, far transcending the importance of the persons for whom it is held. The potlatch is a public ceremony in the fuUest sense of the word, for it involves participation of all members of the community, and even of guests invited from afar. AU are grouped according to sib and moiety, so that even the plan of seating sym- bohzes the structure of the tribe; their actions dramatize the interrelationships between Raven and Wolf sibs, and the dynamic forces which both unite and divide these groups. Chiefs and commoners and slaves all play roles appropriate to their stations. The potlatch, more than any other institution, brings together the most important aspects of Thngit hfe. It is the fore- most occasion on which the position of chiefs and the legal ownership of sib prerogatives are demonstrated. It involves the greatest consumption of subsistence goods (food) and the greatest distribution of luxury items (potlatch gifts), yet it is more than an economic institution. The potlatch stimulates the composition and performance of the finest songs and dances, the production and display of the most beautiful costumes, carvings and paintings, including those of the house itself. Yet the significance of these transcends their purely aesthetic appeal, since they serve to symbohze the whole social order, the relation of man to man and of men to their totemic counterparts, while the oratory of the chiefs and the poetry of the songs evoke the legendary history of the sib ancestors and myths of the world's establishment. The emotional stresses range from the heartbroken grief of a child mourning a dead mother, to the gay mimicking of foreigners in a dance or the warhke chaUenges of rivals. Types of Potlatch Krause (1956, pp. 163-165), foUowing Veniaminov and Holmberg, recognized three kinds of "large feast" among the Tlingit. The first was the "cremation cer- emony," or "feeding the dead," which took place at the time of the funeral and mourning for a chief or other important person. It corresponds to the "smoking feast" described by Yakutat informants (pp. 533-534). The two other feasts were major potlatches, seldom given in the early part of the 19th century because of the expense involved. They could be sponsored only by chiefs. One was the "anniversary feast," given by a chief, if possible in a new house, in honor of his deceased ancestors in whose memory one or more slaves were sacrificed, sib origin stories told and sib heirloom regaha displayed. Gifts, representing the wealth of the chief and of his wife, were distributed to guests, some from out-of-town, and at the end of several days' entertainment the host was entitled to assume the name of an ancestor ("on his father's side"—sic, Krause, 1956, pp. 164-165). This cer- emony corresponds to the commemorative potlatch described in the foUowing pages. The third is the "feast for the chUdren," which resembles the memorial potlatch except that it is given to ennoble the chUdren (of the host?) by having their ears pierced for ear ornaments. It is always held in a new house, whose buUders are among the guests to be paid, and a slave is freed for each child honored, not kUled as for the dead. This was also very expensive to give, although the ideal was to hold one eight times, so that eight holes, four in each ear, could be made. This potlatch also has its counterpart at Yakutat, although it was not clearly distinguished as a specific kind of potlatch by my informants, perhaps because its functions were in general merged with or over- shadowed by the major commemorative potlatch. Rather, my informants seemed to recognize only one kind of potlatch, that given in memory of the dead, but acknowledged that different occasions might offer opportunities for holding potlatches and that these could serve a variety of purposes. The foUowing dis- cussion wiU center, therefore, on the potlatch as a commemorative ceremony, because this was how Yakutat informants conceived it. Another difference between the potlatch as described by Krause and by my informants, is that the former and his sources (Veniaminov, Holmberg, etc.) stress 608 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 the importance of the chief as host and sponsor who played the major role, not only in expending the property necessary to feed his guests and give them gifts, but also in honoring his own dead. However, my Yakutat informants have suggested a much more democratic picture, with aU of the host chief's moiety privileged and expected to contribute to the wealth pubhcly expended and also to speak and sing pubhcly in honor of their deceased relatives. It is hard to esti- mate how much this difference may be due to local cultural conditions at Yakutat (Eyak and Athabaskan influence?) as contrasted to those at Sitka, how much to the way in which the Russians understood this ceremony, and how much to the emphasis of my in- formants who are explaining the modern (late 19 th and early 20th century) ceremony in terms of their own understanding. Certainly at the time of the potlatches which they describe there was far more wealth at Yakutat and Dry Bay, so that many more persons of relatively undistinguished antecedents were able to give potlatches or make substantial contri- butions to them. During this same period, Kwakiutl tribes farther to the south utilized their new wealth and the formal institution of the potlatch to strive for personal ad- vancement, to wipe away shame, and to humUiate or ruin a rival. There seems to have been relatively httle of this at Yakutat. Contests in destroying and throwing away property did occur, but these do not seem to have been considered potlatches, and they were rare. Preliminary Feasts Since the potlatch at which a dead person was remembered might occur long after his death, there were usuaUy a number of preliminary ceremonies in the funeral cycle. The first of these was the smoking feast before (?) the body was cremated or buried, given to take leave of the dead and to provide him with food and tobacco. The night after the funeral (if the smoking feast had been held before), the relatives gave a feast for the guuEtkAnayi who were paid (in substantial or in token form) for their services. On both occasions the bereaved were the hosts, and the guests were of the opposite moiety. Not only was food and tobacco put into the fire for the dead person, but everything con- sumed by the living was for the benefit of aU those who had previously died. (For further details of this funeral ceremony see p. 534.) Two other feasts were likely to intervene between the funeral and the potlatch. This is because no potlatch was given unless a grave, grave fence, grave house or memorial had been erected or repaired, and because it was also usual to build a new house or refurbish the old one in which the potlatch was to be held. These extra feasts were given, therefore, to those who had worked on the grave or on the house. FEAST FOB A HOUSE A smoking (^eq-yis duwa'ix) feast was given on the first day after a new house had been completed, but we know little about it except that: "They always have a song about the house when they buUd it. . . . Sometimes they sing about the people who died—what they buUd the house for. . . . When they finish the house, when it's new, they have a smoking party. . . . They sing song same time they have smoking party." On such occasions, leaf tobacco (^antc) was smoked in pipes or sucked as snuff. It was at first denied that any special number of songs was sung, but later remembered that there was a group of eight songs at the beginning of the feast, apparently to "finish" the house. The singing was done by the hosts, and the guests were members of the opposite moiety who were paid something, but certainly not in fuU, for their work on the buUding, since they were also mentioned as receiving special gifts at the subsequent potlatch. Presumably the dead received the benefit of the tobacco that was consumed. I heard nothing about putting the bodies of slaves under the posts of a house, nor of throwing water- soaked stomachs of animals among the people in the house when it had been finished, as recorded by Swanton (1908, p. 437), The latter specificaUy men- tioned the eight songs, but indicated that these were sung at the potlatch. "At the beginning of a potlatch, when a house had just been completed, aU the host's friends [sibmates?] assembled inside of it and 'danced it together' by making motions four times to the right and four times to the left as they danced. These mo- tions were accompanied by as many songs." (Ibid., p. 438.) Perhaps this occasion was simply the smoking feast elaborated into a real potlatch, or perhaps if a potlatch were held immediately after the completion of a house no special smoking feast would be needed, or perhaps the eight songs and dances were repeated at the first real potlatch held in a new house. I recorded a song composed by Jim Kardeetoo (1862-1937), ranking Teqwedi chief, in connection with Bear Paw House, which he buUt on Lost River near the site of Diyaguna'Et. The house was dedicated in a potlatch in 1918, and was erected in memory of his "uncles" who had hved at Diyaguna'Et. This song is presumably hke one that might have been sung at the smoking feast for a house, although we IN THREE PARTS THE POTLATCH 609 do not know whether he gave such a feast in addition to the potlatch. The words of the song are: "I imagine that my uncles are stUl there at Diya- guna'Et. I'm stiU expecting them. "Nevertheless, for your house, my uncles, I am longing for you [to help me]." (1954, 5-1-C; p. 1167.) Although a potlatch could be held, if necessary, in an old house or one that had not been speciaUy re- paired, no lineage house could be buUt or receive major renovations except by the labor of the guuEtkAnayi, and they had to be paid in a potlatch because the house was not only a dweUing but a memorial to the dead (cf. p. 294). This was made very clear by MJ who described a potlatch held in 1905(?), in Bear House at Situk, by Situk Jim, her brother-in- law, in memory of her father (I§Iadanek) who had died in 1888. The new house was presumably on the site of Situk Jim's earher Bear Den House. It was caUed Bear House because "my father [Tiad] told my sister's husband he had no business to let Xuts hit ['Bear House'] go," that is, to aUow an important house name to lapse. "My sister and her husband are not supposed to claim the house tiU the potlatch is over. The potlatch was for my father, and for the house. There was no one hving in my father's house then." The latter had been abandoned since the owner's death. The potlatch was also necessary to estabhsh Situk Jim as leader of the Situk Teqwedi, taking the place of his father-in-law, for MJ explained further: "The new chief may take over the house, or if it's not suitable, may buUd a new one." Moon House in Yakutat, the owner of which was BUly Jackson (1883-1951), was buUt as a memorial to Mrs. Atsezy Jack (1821-1919), an old Kwackqwan woman, bom blind and reported to have been an authority on tribal affairs. She had burned to death in her own little house, so Moon House was buUt on the site. Everyone in the sib contributed money to buUd and dedicate it. One man gave $25 at the first coUection and $75 at the second. In this way the house was buUt "by the whole tribe," and was "the tribe's house." Without a potlatch for the dead, to whom the house is in effect dedicated, the buUder is sunply an owner, not a house chief (hit §ati). The house is only a shelter, not a monument to the forefathers of the lineage, and has no right to a name. The buUder lacks status and the house its personality. The pot- latch confirms both, in much the same way that the commissioning of a naval vessel endows her with ceremonial life and an honored place in the fleet, whUe at the same time giving public recognition to the orders conferring the conunand upon her new captain. FEAST FOR A GRAVE The same rule, requiring dedication at a potlatch, also apphed to the grave or grave marker; but more important, no potlatch could be given unless a grave had been made or refui-bished. Such labor was always entrusted to the guuEtkAuayi, and the workers were feasted during the course of their labors. If these were finished some time before the next potlatch was to be held, the workers were paid at a special party. Often several graves were, or are, fixed at the same time. Formerly this meant buUding a new grave house, either for a newly cremated individual, or one into which the ashes could be transferred from an old grave house. On such occasions, new chests or boxes were substituted for the old containers. One informant said that the bones of the dead would be put into new boxes each year, "because they thought so much of one another" (HB for FT). Although this statement is probably not to be taken hteraUy, it may weU represent the ideal. For example, when Dry Bay Chief George buUt Far Out House in 1909, he had a new grave house buUt for the bones of six long-dead shamans (Tl'uknaxAdi or Tluk'^axAdi; see p. 646). The great potlatch given at Yakutat in 1905 by the Kwackqwan under Chief Moses to honor his brother. Chief George, served also to dedicate the erection of the tombstone to Bear Bit BiUy, head of Fort House, who had died in 1902. Finishing the modern grave involves covering the earth with cement (after the ground has settled), and stiU later erecting the marble tombstone if the im- mediate relatives have been able to afford one. Work of this kind may be done on several graves at the same time, usuaUy those of sibmates, although not neces- sairly persons who died or were buried the same year. Thus, in the faU of 1952, when four or five graves were to be fixed, these were of both K'^ackqwan and Tl'uknaxAdi dead, belonging of course to the Raven moiety, and dying in 1950, 1951, and 1952. For this work, the close relatives of each dead person chose the particular gunEtkAuayi who were to work on the grave, and these relatives were also primarily responsi- ble for paying them. The plans were discussed several times by one of the persons involved: "After they get through in the graveyard, we'U feed them in the Cafe, and next day we'U give a party [or smaU-scale "potlatch"] in the ANB HaU and pay them. . . . They wiU work on the cement for aU of them. There wUl be a lot of graves fixed up. "[WhUe the men work in the cemetery], we're supposed to take lunch and buUd a bonfire. That's the time you put dishes in the bonfire [for the deceased]. You can't do it in a stove. Dishes with grub, cigar, candy, what old people like to eat." (MJ) 610 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 I am not sure whether on this occasion the picnic lunch was actuaUy held at the graveside. A feast was, however, given afterwards at the Cafe, at which those who had covered the graves with cement were paid. Furthermore, the widow of one of the dead men on this occasion distributed her husband's clothing and most of his money to his close relatives and to other members of his sib who were not so closely related. That is, this money went to the hosts at this feast. (For the detaUs, see pp. 546-547.) The tombstones were not erected untU the foUowing summer, to aUow tune for the cement to set properly. I did not hear of another party to pay for this work; perhaps payment was postponed untU another important occasion, although the tombstones were in place by Memorial Day, 1954. At any event, food was offered to the deceased at the feast in the Cafe after the cement was laid, for one of the missionaries is reported to have preached against the practice. "Yakutat is fuU of superstition," he is quoted as saying. "Do you try to feed the dead people? Do you expect them to come alive? Do you think the dead people are going to eat?" Such would, indeed, have been the explicit belief at a former time, but the practice has now become more of a gesture of respect, like putting flowers on graves. What was stressed by my informant, whom the sermon had angered, was the necessity for giving such a party or small-scale "potlatch" in order to pay for the funeral services. "So I said, 'Can I teU you why we got to have feast? That's our way. When we are born we are told to do that. Suppose your mother or brother died. Just be- cause you belong to Church of . . . you let your mother rot in your house and not get a hand to bury her? That's the way we do. We can't do it ourselves so we get other people to do it. We appoint somebody to help us with the burying.'" And afterwards was when they were paid (MJ). The minister had told her that he had sent money to his mother so she could pay for her own funeral, but my informant thought this a crazy idea. Swanton (1909, pp. 374-389) has outlined the "feast when a pole was erected for the dead," as it would have been given at WrangeU in 1904. In this he has recorded the fuU texts of the speeches that would have been delivered. Unfortunately, it is impossible to dis- cover whether this was a prehminary feast, to be fol- lowed later by a large-scale potlatch, or whether it was itself a potlatch on a smaU scale. The ceremony, which lasted only one night, involved speeches by aU five guest chiefs and by the host, dances by the two groups of guests, feasting accompanied by a secret society (cannibal?) dance by the host's nephew, distribution of property, and, "when the feast was over," three shows staged by the hosts and by the two guest groups, one of which involved a masked impersonation (see fur- ther discussion, pp. 628-629). The order of events is impossible to reconstruct with certainty. This ceremony, like that held in the Cafe at Yakutat in the faU of 1952, may have been the only one given in which the funeral debts were paid. THE MAJOR POTLATCH Summary A major potlatch (qu 'is tlen, 'big invitation'; Harrington, khuuwwA'iii, 'an inviting') formerly in- volved preparation long in advance, the coUection of food to entertain guests from a distant Eyak or Tlingit tribe and of wealth to pay aU the ceremonial debts which had been incurred by the hosts. Most of the potlatches about which I received specific information occurred between 1905 and 1916, although the earhest that was mentioned was the one given at Diyaguna'Et about 1855 when a baby slave was sacrificed at the dedication of Shark House-Bear Paw House (pp. 317, 471). The "potlatches" given today are very minor affairs in comparison. In earlier times it was only the sib chief or lineage head who could afford to act as host at a potlatch, for only he could muster the active cooperation of a large household. In the first two decades of the 20th century and a little earlier, increased wealth enabled a number of others, brothers or cousins of such men, to buUd and dedicate houses by sponsoring potlatches, and there were even a few women who did so (see the history of houses at the Old ViUage, pp. 321-326). A major pot- latch, however, was given only by the chief of the sib; the other lineage heads might join with him for such an outstanding affair, or might utUize the occasion when foreign guests were present to give subsidiary potlatches of their own, so that a round of potlatches and accompanying feasts might last 10 days or more. IN THREE PARTS THE POTLATCH 611 The sequence of events in a major potlatch may be briefly summarized as f oUows: *^ Notification has been given a year in advance that a potlatch is to be held, so that hosts and guests may make the necessary preparations. There are always two groups of guests, one residents of the host's village, the other from another tribe. Only at smaU potlatches (cf. p. 610) are there no guests from away, although the local guests are divided into two groups. In addition to insuring the supplies of food and goods needed by the hosts, both they and their guests have to refurbish the costumes to be worn, and practice songs and dances. The two groups of guests, and sometimes the hosts, have each to compose a new song for the occsision. The leaders of these groups, and sometimes others, also prepare "medicines" and observe ritual abstinences. Just before the potlatch, the hosts send two 'sib brothers-in-law' (nakani) to escort their out-of-town guests. The guests do not come directly to the viUage where they are to be entertained, but camp for the last night a short distance away, where their hosts have provided quarters, food and fuel, whUe the nakani hasten on to notify the people of their guests' imminent arrival. The guests usuaUy travel by canoe, but if they have come on foot from Dry Bay, they wiU be furnished with canoes for their ceremonial arrival next day at their hosts' viUage. On this day, the first of the ceremonial sequence, the out-of-town guests dance on the beach whUe the local guests watch them from war canoes. Then they board canoes to watch the local guests dance on the beach in front of the houses. The host chief greets them, the guests land, and are formally welcomed to the house of the chief giving the potlatch, where they are served something to eat. Here they sleep every night whUe they remain in the vUlage, although they may be entertained with feasts and parties in other houses of the host sib. On the foiu-(?) days foUowing their arrival, the guests wake early and sing before dawn. In the evenings they are feasted by their hosts, perhaps in several houses. These parties are times for fun, when the two groups of guests may be pitted against each other m feats of eating and of drinking seal oU. (I believe it is also during this time that the hosts may put on shows.) On the evening of the fifth day the potlatch itself begins, the hosts in their finest costumes and regaha at the front of the house, the two guest sibs seated in honor at the rear. The host chief begins with a speech of welcome to his guests, explaming the reasons for the 8' Cf. McClellan, 1954, pp. 78-82, whose account differs slightly because it is based also on Inland and southeastern Alaskan Tlingit practices. potlatch, starts with eight ancient potlatch songs mourning the dead, and then caUs on his brother or nephew to foUow him. EventuaUy aU the members of his sib and of his moiety have a chance to speak or start a song, and aU make their contributions, the adults paying for each chUd too young to do it for himseK. AU weep freely, but the sorrow is relieved from time to time by dances performed by the host women or by skilled young men of the host's sib. At the end, the chief again sings eight songs, introduces his grandchUdren, and the wealth which has been accumulated is distributed to the guests. These proceedings are so lengthy that they may last many hours without any interruptions except for brief recesses. Sometimes, instead of a single large potlatch, each lineage head of the sib may give one in his own house which lasts only one day. On the 4 days after the potlatch (or potlatches) the guests are feasted, the out-of-town and the hometown groups taking turns in dancing after eating. These dances are to thank their hosts, and such parties are apparently given in aU the houses in which they have been entertained. This sequence of events is what might be expected at a major potlatch, although there were undoubtedly variations since novelty seems to have been prized. At a minor affair, held in the house of a lineage chief, what has been described as 4 days of feasting might be con- densed into a single night. At the present time, "pot- latches" have shrunk in scope to a single evening of feasting, suiging, and distribution of gifts, although the major emphasis of honor to the dead and payment for the funeral is retained. No matter what the scale, however, every potlatch was and is an affair involving every member of the sib who could possibly attend, and everyone contributed on behalf of his own dead. In addition, every member of the moiety, resident or visiting, gave wealth, the amount varying according to the means of the individual and his or her relationship to the principal deceased or to the sponsor. The potlatch was thus a ceremony that united in a common cooperative effort aU the mem- bers of one moiety in a community. Moreover, if the host sib had branches in other places, the members of the latter would make every effort to attend and take part in a major potlatch. Purposes A single potlatch fulfiUed many functions: to provide the dead with food and clothing, and to honor their memory; to dedicate and name a new house or a reno- vated one; to exhibit new sib regaha and especiaUy the 612 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 sib heirlooms which thereby acquired or increased in value because of the wealth distributed; to vaUdate the assumption of a new name or title by the sponsoring chief; and to vahdate the bestowal of honorable names upon junior members of the sib and upon grandchUdren. The wealth given to the guests was in repayment for the care they had taken of the corpse and for the labor of erecting the grave house or grave marker, for erecting the house itself and carving its posts or painting its interior screen. Guests were also paid for other cere- monial services, such as piercing the ears of the host's nephews and nieces and grandchUdren, and for tattooing their hands. Lastly, guests were paid simply for attend- the potlatch, for listening to their hosts' laments for the dead, and for easing their grief through comforting speeches, songs, and dances. Their presence was official recognition of the rights to names, crests, songs, and other property exhibited actuaUy or symbolicaUy at the potlatch, and for this service as witnesses they also were paid. As the potlatch testified to the grief of the hving and to the high esteem in which they held their dead, so the giving of the potlatch served to elevate the prestige of the hosts. The host chief and his lineage or sib re- ceived public recognition commensurate with the amount of wealth which they had lavished on their guests. For this reason the potlatch could also serve to wipe away the memory of disgrace, insure against insult, or restore lost status. It was for this reason that Coward House was buUt and dedicated at Situk, so that no one could caU "coward" the buUder who had accepted a peace settlement for the murder of his uncle, instead of kiUing the murderer (pp. 320, 603). AU of these purposes and functions of the potlatch were, however, conceived as memoriahzing the dead, either directly, or indirectly by carrying on the tradi- tions which the ancestors had established. Thus, the big names or titles of the dead members of the lineage were revived through their formal bestowal upon the hving. Just as the host chief introduced his "nephews and nieces" and bis "grandchUdren" to the guests by the honorable names they were henceforth to bear, so he himseK succeeded to the position of his dead prede- cessor as head of the lineage or sib. The garments (blankets, coats, hats, headdresses) that had been worn by the dead at earher ceremonials were placed upon these, their living representatives, and even the chUdren of the dead might be caUed before the other guests to display such regalia. The songs sung in memory of the dead included those which they had composed and sung, and again their own chUdren might be asked to sing them. For such services these speciaUy honored guests were paid. And all payments went in some mysterious fashion to supply the dead. In such ways the living members of the hneage were drawn close to the dead, and to theu* descendants, so that the line was symbolicaUy restored. In the same manner, the house, the most important material expression of the Imeage it sheltered, was rebuUt and given a traditional name, so that it became symbolicaUy the same house in which the lineage had always lived. Thus of one house it was said: "They didn't live there very long. They buUt it just to have a big potlatch, just to remember that 'Itc hit [Boulder House] belonged to Tl'uknaxAdi." (MJ, cf. p. 321.) In the same way, aU the important crest objects exhibited at potlatches bore traditional names: the KiUerwhale Drum, the Raven Hat, the Copper River Dance Paddle, the Ahrnklin River Blanket. They were made by the opposite moiety for the hosts, who paid them at the potlatch, and they replaced the original objects which had worn out. Just as persons are reborn to carry on the line and assume the ancient honored names, so hat and drum and blanket are renewed and receive again their titles. They are the symbols of their owners' lineage and sib, and of the origin and destiny (cAgun) of the line, and their totemic crests link the hving with those ancestors who long ago won for their descendants the right to use these emblems. As the value of such sib regalia was felt to be increased with each potlatch at which they were displayed, because on each occasion more wealth was sacrificed in order that they might be shown, so with each potlatch the chief could assume a new and more honorable title for himseK from among those borne by his Ulustrious predecessors, and award more names to his juniors and grandchUdren. It was therefore natural that a wealthy and ambitious man should give as many pot- latches as he could afford: repeatedly honoring his dead relatives; repeatedly restoring their graves; rebuUding or repairing his house, and renaming it. Sometimes the prestige of the hving came to outweigh the major funerary purpose of the potlatch so that in effect it was given simply to enhance the sponsor's standing. One man was, perhaps, expressing the ideal values of the Yakutat Tlingit when he emphasized the common grief and respect for the dead, and when he saw the potlatch as an institution which strengthened brotherly feeling within the moiety, and which bound generations together, linking parents to chUdren, grandparents to grandchildren, and the living to the dead. For him, the potlatch meant dignity, sympathy, high respect for aU, with the exalted chief and the poor and lowly united in sorrow and honor for the ancestors. IN THREE PARTS THE POTLATCH 613 Rivalry at the Potlatch RIVALRY AMONG THE HOSTS Despite the ideal of cooperation and unity, there is no doubt but that an element of rivalry entered into the relationships between those members of the same sib and moiety who acted as hosts. The wealth which each contributed to the pUe to be later distributed was pubhcly displayed and the amount announced by the nakani. It was thus easy to see what each had offered and in private to make invidious reflections on the economic standing and generosity of the others. In such matters there was always stressed the necessity of acting according to one's social position and of emu- lating the Ulustrious precedents set by one's uncles and grandfathers. However, the abstract standards of noblesse oblige or the legendary examples of dead ancestors were readUy replaced by the chaUenging marks set by the present acts of feUow chiefs and sibmates. Thus, whUe Lusxox (who was rebuked by his daughter for cruelty because he sacrificed a slave at a potlatch) could retort that he had to do this in order to hve up to the example of his forebears, my informant, his granddaughter, perhaps more correctly interpreted his behavior as trying to "raise himself" in competition with the other rich and prominent men of his own sib and moiety who were also "giving away" slaves at the potlatch. "He was trying to beat the other tribe—see who was the biggest, had the most property." (MJ; see also pp. 317, 471, 513.) Another reason for competition might be the exhibi- tion of crest objects or of ceremonial prerogatives by one lineage or sib which were claimed as the exclusive prerogatives by another in the same moiety. Witness the trouble at Sitka in 1902 between the KiksAdi and the Tl'uknaxAdi over the latter's attempt to dedicate a Frog House (p. 288) or the war between the QanAxtedi of ChUkat and the Tl'uknaxAdi over rival claims to display a Raven Hat (p. 274; and Swanton, 1909, Tale, 32, pp. 161-165). Other examples are discussed in connection with crests (p. 454). Touchiness about such matters may last for years. RIVALRY BETWEEN GUESTS The guests at the potlatch were, of course, members of the moiety opposite from that of the hosts. There were always two groups of guests, usuaUy two separate sibs, each with its own chief and song leaders. At a major potlatch at least one group was invited from a distant tribe (Tlingit or Eyak), whUe the other was a sib from the hometown. Thus, the K'^ackqwan potlatch given at Yakutat in 1905 in memory of Chief George was also for the many K'^ackqwan who had died near KataUa in a snowslide when hunting bear. It was therefore fitting that the out-of-town guests should be the Galyix-Kagwantan and Tcicqedi from ChUkat on Bering River, Kayak Island in Controller Bay, KataUa, and Cordova. "[Because] so many of them died around KataUa . . . that's why they invited aU the westward people. . . . If I had a brother or uncle [who] died in Sitka," said my Kwackqwan informant, "I'm going to invite Sitka Kagwantan or Teqwedi. That's the Indian law, that's the way." Probably in this hypothetical case he would have invited the Sitka sib that had cared for the corpse, although he did not explain the possible reasons that might have guided his choice. Foreign guests were, however, always invited to a major potlatch, even when those to be honored had died at home. In such a case the particular guest sib would probably be selected on the basis of some special relationship to the deceased or to the sponsoring host. We should note that guests who came from a differ- ent tribe or town were, of course, accompanied by their spouses and chUdren. The same was true of members of the host sib who came from a distance to help an important chief with a potlatch. Such rela- tives took their places among the hosts or guests according to their moiety affiliations. SimUarly, whUe only one group of local guests are said to have been formaUy invited, actuaUy all the members of the opposite moiety who hved in the town were present as guests, sitting with one or the other of the two groups. Yakutat people regularly exchanged potlatch invita- tions with the people of KataUa and Bering River to the northwest, and with the Dry Bay people to the southeast. Less frequently, perhaps, they invited guests from Sitka or Juneau, although we know that the Kagwantan and Tl'uknaxAdi from Yakutat and Dry Bay often assisted their sibmates in these towns when the latter gave potlatches, and were also invited there as guests. Even at a smaU-scale potlatch to which only local townsmen were invited, there were always two groups of guests; that is, two sibs. Presumably if there were only one sib of the guest moiety, this woiUd be divided into two lineage groups, as Swanton has indicated would be the case at Sitka (1908, p. 435). Such an arrangement was not mentioned by my informants, probably because even before Yakutat itself was founded, bringing together so many sibs, it was always easy for Yakutat, Lost River, Situk River, Ahrnkhn River, and Dry Bay people to visit each other. Swanton also makes clear that when three or more sibs are 614 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 represented among the guests, these will be grouped together to form two divisions, and that such aline- ments are traditional. I did not discover just what these arrangements were at Yakutat, although in 1905 the Galyix-Kag- wantan and Tcicqedi were invited together as one group, while the local Teqwedi and CAnkuqedi were "always mixed together" and formed the other group of guests. The Galyix-Kagwantan and the "Sitka Kagwantan," that is, the Box House lineage of the latter that was estabhshed at Dry Bay, were ahnost certainly grouped together, if only because my inform- ants did not distinguish between them in such con- texts. I should also imagine that at a smaU Dry Bay affair the Kagwantan and CAnkuqedi would have formed the two divisions. However, when Dry Bay Chief George and the Tl'uknaxAdi gave a potlatch in 1909 at Dry Bay, the local CAnkuqedi formed one group and the Yakutat Teqwedi the other. Kagwantan from Yakutat accompained the Teqwedi as guests, but whether they were the few resident Galyix-Kagwantan or the few married-in Kagwantan from Sitka, I do not know. It might be significant that in the photo- graph of Teqwedi guests at a potlatch at Yakutat in 1916 there are two Sitka Kagwantan men among them, both married to Yakutat women and living in that place, but there were no CAnkuqedi (pi. 214). Whenever the Ravens were guests at Yakutat, the K'^ackqwan and the Tl'uknaxAdi formed the core of the two divisions. Thus, at the potlatch series given by the Teqwedi at Yakutat in 1910, the local guest sib was, of course, K'^ackqwan, while the Tl'uknaxAdi invited from Dry Bay included the Tluk^axAdi as weU as a few XafkA'ajd. However, at the Bear House pot- latch at Situk in 1905, the Yakutat K'^ackqwan and the Yakutat Ti'ulaaaxAdi formed one group (because Xadanek, in whose memory it was given, had married women of both sibs whose chUdren were among the honored guests?). The Dry Bay Tl'ulniaxAdi and Tluk^axAdi formed the other division. Any Eyak QanAxtedi or Quskedi who might be present at Yakutat would be considered as "part of K'^ackqwan" because of the tradition of their common origin on the Copper River. Swanton (1908, p. 435) believed that: "If people were invited from another town they formed one party and the town people the other," but the alinements at Yakutat and Dry Bay, as far as I could tell, seemed to group together those sibs whose "chUdren" would be joldng relatives (p. 486), and separated those whose members were trade partners (p. 355). The arrangements in any case seem to have been, as Swanton (ibid.) states, "based on supposed consanguinity." What is important about these two groups of guests is that they came as rivals, 'to dance against each other' (wutc ya'adul'ex), trying to outdo each other in beautiful costly garments, and in the exceUence of their singing and dancing. Because the two guest sibs were usuaUy members of different Tlingit tribes, it was natural for such rivalry to reflect the hostUity or sus- picion felt for strangers. One informant maintained that it did not mean that they were jealous of each other, but that "they try to beat each other—just for fun, that's aU." Others disagreed with this statement, and one insisted: "They try to beat one another—That cause war." The first rejoined: "It never happen in Yakutat, it happen somewhere. It don't know it, I heard about it. . . . They jealous of each other and almost lead to war." Whether or not there was ever actual trouble at Yakutat, there was always the possibihty of overt hostUity. Thus, the first informant had earlier spoken of the dances performed by the guests as "peace dances," indicating the tensions involved.®^ He had also told how the Yakutat Teqwedi in 1905 were afraid that the Qalyix-Kagwantan from KataUa might succeed in "sneaking in," trying to "beat" the local guest sib by arriving before the latter were ready. It was partly to prevent such an occurrence that the nakani sent by the hosts to accompany their guests left the latter when nearly at their destination in order to hurry home with the news of the latter's approach. Furthermore, this man also explained, each of the two guest sibs woiUd compose a special "peace song" addressed to the chUdren of the other. If the Teqwedi, for example, were giving a potlatch, he suggested: "Suppose they invite us Kwackqwan, Tl'uknaxAdi they always [invite, too]. Everytime we supposed to be invited, they notKy us ahead of time. Kwackqwan always compose a song to Tl'uknaxAdi-yAtxi. That's for peace, that song. [The Tl'uknaxAdi also compose a song to K'^ackqwan- chUdren.] For just that potlatch. That's a peace song. Everytime they always sing it, that song, and dance." Such songs are like those actuaUy composed and sung at peace ceremonies by the captor hosts whUe their hostage 'deer' dance. Since these songs express love and admiration for the sib-chUdren of the rival group, they tend to lessen the hostUity of their fathers. The same idea is expressed by Swanton (1908, p. 440): "The contesting sides indicate that they want to dance in peace by saying to each other, 'I am holding your daughter's hand.' [Note:] The daughter of one Wolf man being the wife of another, and vice versa." These songs are sung every time the rival groups danced against each other. 88 Swanton (1908, p. 438) reports, almost in the words of his informant, "When people invite others they say, 'We will have a war dance together,' in order to scare them, meaning thereby that they will have a dancing and singing contest." IN THREE PARTS THE POTLATCH 615 StiU further precautions were taken. The two groups of guests were each accompanied by their own nakani, that is, by men of the host group who had married their sib sisters. My informant at first denied the prac- tice, then corrected himseK and mentioned the pos- sibUity of "trouble." When it came the turn of one guest sib to dance, their nakani had the duty of leading the line as they danced into their hosts' house and of standing at the door aU the time, to "look after" the proceedings. In other words, the nakani were stationed at points of possible danger, which they, as neutrals, were supposed to avert, and if it came they guarded the line of retreat for their brothers-in-law. They also seem to have assisted the song leaders of the group they escorted—"just like a committee . . . look after the songs for their brother-in-laws." I beheve they prompted the song leaders, perhaps especiaUy when the guests were caUed upon to sing or to join in singing a song belonging to the hosts. For the song leaders to make any mistake was a disgrace to their own sib, but was highly gratifying to their rivals. The nakani were obviously concerned to prevent, if they could, any trouble that might arise from such an incident. From personal reminiscences, it is clear that the guests were usuaUy nervous when dancing and singing, fearing that their rivals might find cause to laugh at them for any awlrwardness or error. Indeed, if any notice were taken of a mistake made by a song leader this was likely to precipitate a fight. "If anybody make a mistake, they're going to have a big fight, going to use the knife," reported one woman who had served as song leader and worried about this possibihty, although she added: "I never see it." (pp. 648-649.) Swanton has made clear the dangerous character of this competition (1908, p. 435): "Great rivalry was always exhibited by the two parties, however, and their endeavors to outdo each other sometimes almost resulted in bloodshed. Each side attended carefuUy to the slightest remark made by an opponent, especiaUy the two song leaders with which each was provided, and the least slight, though couched in the most metaphorical language, was at once seized upon and might precipitate a riot. The actions of each dancer were also scrutinized with great care, and any httle mistake noted and remembered. The strain upon a dancer was con- sequently so great that, if a fine dancer died soon after the feast, it was said, 'The peoples' looks have kUled him.' " The hosts made every effort to prevent trouble between their guests, by treating them alike, seating the two guest chiefs side by side, and by speaking to both in the most solemn manner. If quarreling should break out, it was the responsibUity of the hosts to stop it. Then the host chief would step forward from his place by the door and appeal to the guests, pointmg out that the ceremonial costume he was wearing had belonged to the dead—perhaps the blanket had been his mother's—and asldng for peace in the name of the dead. Simultaneously other members of the host moiety, who would also be clothed in blankets and hats inherited from their dead relatives, might speak to the people: "See what I have on." Such heirlooms are caUed 'ownerless things' (1 sati 'At). This is "a peace word. That's hard to explain it. Every tune respect, deep respect. So it's peace." And the guests would have to quiet down. Apparently any heirloom decorated with sib crests could be used by any member of the sib to make peace between others. Swanton (1908, p. 440) reports that when a fight was unminent between the guests at a Chilkat pot- latch, one of the hosts who was wearing a Raven Hat averted the fight by stepping forward and uttering the raven's caw. In the story (Swanton, 1909, Tale 104, p. 346) about the fight with five coals among the Kagwantan owners of Wolf House at Grouse Fort, a Tl'uknaxAdi man stopped the brawl in exactly the same way. The Eyak also made use of dance paddles as peace emblems to end quarrels (Birket-Smith and de Laguna, 1938, p. 130). In this way we see how the potlatch, which served primarily to unite the moiety of the hosts, divides the moiety of the guests into rival groups. McCleUan (1954) has analyzed the typical Tlingit potlatch to show how it strengthens the most important units, the sibs, whUe in the main accentuating the differences between them. She has also pointed out (p. 96) how the theme of warfare is symbohcaUy stressed through- out the ceremonies. RIVALRY BETWEEN HOSTS AND GUESTS There was certainly far less possibihty of rivalry be- tween hosts and guests, although competitively minded individuals were doubtless stimulated by the magnifi- cence of their hosts to give as great a potlatch as pos- sible when it became their turn. Sometimes, as we know, a guest might complain afterwards in private of the meanness of the gifts received, or a host comment on how little the recipient merited what he had been given. WhUe it was quite customary for a man or woman to boast afterwards of what he had contributed or received, to my knowledge this was not in terms of comparison with another but was made as a statement of isolated fact. ChUdren would speak in the same way about the potlatching record of their father. In such cases, the rivals, if they existed, were aU the other members of the community. I was able to record few remarks directed against 616 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 the opposite moiety to suggest potlatch rivalry. For example, when MJ was asked about the location of a house in Dry Bay where a potlatch had been held, she rephed: "I don't know which place it was. I didn't notice it. My mother and grandmother don't interest in the opposite tribe—just in our own tribe what's ahead." Or, referring to cahco which is often wrapped around women of the host sib before distribution: "They do it so they won't look down on you—the opposite tribe. They give that stuff away." BEGINNING THE POTLATCH Preparations Because so many purposes were served, the actual events that took place in the potlatch ceremonies were complex, involving the participation of many persons who played a variety of roles. My information is unfortunately not complete, since it is based on recol- lections of the last fuU-scale potlatches which had been given some 40 to 50 years previously. An attempt wUl be made, however, to piece together these data to show how the potlatch was generaUy conducted. This is foUowed by personal reminiscences of specific occasions. Potlatches about which I have information were: the Tl'uknaxAdi potlatch for Boulder House in 1901 (pp. 323,473); the Kwackqwan potlatch for Chief George in 1905, held in Raven's Bones House, Moon House and Fort House (p. 324); a Galyix-Kagwantan potlatch in Wolf Bath House ha 1905 (p. 323); the Teqwedi potlatch for Bear (Den) House at Situk in 1905 (p. 321); the Tl'uknaxAdi potlatch for Far Out House (Frog House) at Dry Bay m 1909 (p. 319); the Teqwedi potlatch at Yakutat in 1910, primarUy in Shark House, but also in Drum House, Coward House, and WoK Bath House (p. 325); the Tl'uknaxAdi pot- latch at Sidewise House in 1916 (p. 326). Photographs of Teqwedi guests at this last affair, and also of Yaku- tat Tl'uloiaxAdi guests at a Teqwedi potlatch at Sitka in 1904 give us further information (pis. 210-214). Addi- tional potlatches were, of course, mentioned in connec- tion with the oldest Isnown houses, and more modern "parties" or smaU potlatches of recent years: by Kwackqwan of the Moon House lineage for Henry Adams in 1949 and for Jenny Kardeetoo in 1950, by the Tl'uknaxAdi for Jack Ellis in 1952 and for Conrad Edwards in 1954. There may well have been other small potlatches in recent years about which I know nothing. THE YEAR BEFORE THE POTLATCH When a decision to hold a potlatch had been reached, apparently by the sib chief in councU with the other house chiefs of his sib, guests were informaUy notified. "They always notify a year before so they can prac- tice the dance, get ready for the potlatch." Formal messengers (nakani) are not sent at this time. "They send word there, that's aU. 'You're invited.' They always notify a year before." During this year the host chief prepared himself magicaUy by bathing before dawn and by observing dietary rules. "They drink water so much a day, not much. They don't eat much." Presumably at the end a total fast was enjoined. The chief also had to be continent. His wife slept alone in their bedroom whUe he slept on the bench by the door of the house, although my informant did not know for how long. I did not learn whether other members of the host's group also observed simUar taboos.^^ The host might also prepare the magical 'medicine to be noticed' (see pp. 662-663). Presumably this in- volved the root of some plant, as was customary in Tlingit "medicines," with which was placed a piece of something that had previously received favorable no- tice. This was to insure a successful potlatch. The guests also took magical precautions, but these seem to have been most important for the song leaders and principal dancers, for I heard no specific mention of the guest chiefs in this connection. Swanton (1908, p. 438) specified of guests from Sitka on their way to a potlatch at EQukwan: "WhUe they were going up the dance leaders had to fast for two days and for some time they had to keep away from women; otherwise they would not live long." I beheve that this abstinence was because they were using a magical ingredient. One of my informants, who M^as a song leader in the group invited from Dry Bay to Yakutat in 1910, told how she and the two male song leaders were given the medicine 'no strength inside one,' and in consequence had to fast for a day. This was a tasteless piece of root which the song leaders held in their mouths whUe performing. 88 Swanton observes (1908, p. 437): "A feast was prefaced by considerable fasting, in order to bring good luck to the various persons concerned." IN THREE PARTS THE POTLATCH 617 This was to prevent them from making mistakes, and to attract favorable attention even if they sang and danced poorly (see the account on p. 648). Guests might also use 'need medicine' or 'looking at the sun medicine' so that they might be paid twice over at the potlatch. An informant was shown this plant by Sam George, a son of Dry Bay Chief George, the same chief who had prepared the medicine for the song leaders in 1910. "When they're having a potlatch, when they start paying off people from one end, then they come back again. If a person has that kayani ['medicine'], they give him another one [gift]. I think it's that 'AlAtin nak''['looking at medicine']. Sam George was surprised [that it worked]. His father or grandfather made it for him in a potlatch . . . [He was paid twice], even coming back." Other preparations made by hosts and guests in- volved the selection of nakani, whUe the guests had to compose a peace song and chose their song leaders. THE NAKANI The nakani, 'sib brothers-in-law,' were always men of some rank who had married equaUy important sib sisters of the group they were to represent. The hosts' nakani were the more important, since they escorted the out-of-town guests to the hosts' vUlage, invited the guests to the feasts or ceremonies held each night, and at the potlatch itself handled and accounted for aU the wealth involved. For example, one nakani for Chief Moses' great K^'ackqwan potlatch of 1905 was Sitka Ned (died 1926), head of the Teqwedi Coward House and husband of the Kwackqwan daughter of his predecessor (cf. p. 324). The other nakani was John On-as-tad (YanEstEt) or Kayak John (1867-1916), a Galyix-Kagwantan man who had married a K'^ackqwan woman from Fort House. We have already seen him acting as a 'deer' in trouble between his sib and the Tl'uknaxAdi (p. 603). For this same potlatch in 1905, the Galyix-Kagwantan Chief John (Gule, QalyAx-'ic) appointed SA'-yel-ti^u and 'As-t'a-kane, who were Eyak GanAxtedi or Quskedi men that counted as K^'ackqwan. The Yakutat Teqwedi who were also guests at this potlatch had three nakani. One was Charley White (1879-1964), a Tl'uknaxAdi man who had married the Teqwedi daughter of his Uncle Abra- ham, the former chief of the Boulder House lineage (p. 323). There was also Sitka Charley (^d^Agtr, or XdSlku) from the Tl'uknaxAdi Whale House m Sitka who had married the Teqwedi daughter (Kitty, KA^I^, 1875-1909) of a Yakutat K'^ackqwan man. The thu-d nakani was Jack Shokokon (1884-1912), K^'ackqwan son of Ca-kuwakan of Coward House (pp. 524, 603, 604), and who lU^e his father had probably already served as a 'deer.' He was married to the sister of the chief of Golden Eagle House (Qestl'eq, sister of Tanu^). In 1909, the Tl'uknaxAdi chief. Dry Bay Chief George, sent as nakani to Yakutat his three sons: Frank Italio (1870-1955), Sam George (1890-1947), and Dry Bay Francis, aU CAnkuqedi men who had married Tl'uknaxAdi or Thik^axAdi women. The foUowing year, when the Dry Bay Ravens came to the Teqwedi potlatch at Yakutat, Sam George seems to have acted as nakani for the guests, for^we see him prompting his wife who was serving as a Tl'uknaxAdi song leader. The three nakani for the Teqwedi hosts on this occasion were again Charley White, Young George (1870-1915) a K'^ackqwan man of Fort House who had a Teqwedi wife (p. 324), and lastly George Martm (1892-1915), also K'^ackqwan man of Fort House who was married to the Teqwedi daughter of its former head. Bear Bit BUly (pi. 81). Women were also nakani. Thus, I was told that Mrs. Situk Jim, Xosal-tla, wife of the buUder of the Teqwedi Bear House at Situk, came out through the snow to welcome her husband's guests and assign them sleeping places in the new house (see p. 621). The wife of Dry Bay Chief George, a CAnkuqedi woman, was in charge of the food served to guests at her husband's potlatch, although his sib sisters actuaUy passed the dishes. Swanton's Sitka informant (1908, p. 438) reported that the wife of the principal Raven chief sponsoring a potlatch at Klukwan was sent as nakani to Sitka to invite the guests. "Had the host hved in the same town he would have sent a brother-in-law instead." But such was evidently not the Yakutat and Dry Bay custom. This Chilkat woman took leaf tobacco and food to feast those whom she was inviting, and they danced before her in crest hats and blankets to express their thanks. Before she left she had demanded and received over $2,000 worth of property. "She asked for this in order that they might feel just as good as the EHukwan Wolves who had buUt her husband's house, for those of Sitka had not had a hand in it" (ibid). At the potlatch, her husband returned this property together with twice as much of his own. I was not told of such formal requests for contributions made by nakani, although spouses and "brothers-in-law" did assist each other with potlatch funds (see pp. 640- 641). AU I was told specificaUy about the behavior of nakani was that when they went to the vUlage of the foreign guests, "they stand in the middle of the town, among the buUdings, and talk. . . . They say 'You're invited!' naming the guests." The nakani wore no special costumes and carried no insignia denoting their status. Sometimes those whom they came to fetch 618 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 would entertain them with a party before starting out. On the way back, the nakani conducted the guests to quarters prepared for them near their destination, left them there overnight whUe they hurried on ahead to announce their arrival, and then returned to escort the guests on the last short stage of their journey. During the period that the guests were being enter- tained in the vUlage, the hosts' nakani issued formal invitations for each event. "They go around in front of the house and caU the people they invited, a day ahead of tune [that is, on the morning before a party in the evening, or the day before a morning ceremony]. They caU their names. Stand outside and caU who's going to come. Just like a list." (MJ) Another informant added: "Like suppose tonight they're going to have a pot- latch. . . . Nakani go to the houses. They don't go in. They're going to say, 'Kuxanguwutan, 'ix'^a 'ix— Kuxanguwutan [using the potlatch or honorable name], I invite you!' And whoever is in this house, they're going to mention your name. Same thing for each house." The caU, as demonstrated, was solemn and slow. Invitations of the same kitid were issued for each of the feasts or parties that preceded or foUowed the potlatch proper. "Next night, same thing. Just like those days, invitation goes through the houses." "It's a disgrace to the tribe if you invite guests and they don't come. Your fault in the first place because you don't make it clear. 'You invited, you expected to come.' You got to come, especiaUy gunEtkAuayi." "You refuse to go to the feast, they [the hosts or their nakani?] coming with that 1 sati 'At [heirloom] to get you!'; It is not certain whether the same nakani that were sent to invite the guests would necessarUy be the same individuals who handled the wealth at the potlatch, for the former were often young men, and of the latter it was said: "One old feUow keep track of [the money, and caU] 'Who's next? Who's next?' " In former times the nakani kiUed the slaves that were "given" to the guests, taking the victims outside and strangling them by standing on a pole laid across their necks. SONG LEADERS Before coming to the potlatch the guests also had to designate their song leaders, 'masters of song' (ci sati). There were always two young men for each group, often accompanied by a young woman who stood or danced between them. Photographs of the Yakutat guests at at the Sitka potlatch in 1904 show what appear to be three male song leaders (pis. 210, 211, 212). "They have to have two song leaders in case one forgets" (MJ). These men carried long oar-shaped wands or dance paddles (wutsaga) with which to beat time and signal the dancers and the other singers. These dance paddles were decorated with sib crests, bore traditional names, and were passed on from one song leader to his suc- cessor. Such dance paddles or batons were the Teqwedi KiUerwhale Pole, at one time owned by Jun Kardeetoo and now in the Alaska Historical Museum in Juneau. The paddle represented the fin of the KiUerwhale, whUe below was the figure of the man who carved the original kUlerwhales, NatsAlAue', according to Swanton (1909, Tales 4 and 71). I am indebted to Edward ]S[eithahn, Curator, for a photograph of this pole (pi. 163). A modern substitute, the Bear Dance Paddle, was used by Joseph Abraham and by Tom Smith in 1916, both Teqwedi song leaders (pis. 140, 2146). Another Teqwedi dance baton is the Wolf Pole, carved by D. S. Benson (1869-1940 plus), who though Teqwedi carved it for Joseph Abraham (1867-1917) shortly before the latter's death. It was used by Olaf Abraham (1886—) at the Tl'uknaxAdi potlatch in 1916. The pole is 67 inches long and is painted red, black, and blue green (pi. 214c). It is now in the Denver Art Mu- seum (Malin and Feder, 1962, fig. 17, a, b). The K'^ackwan have the Copper River Dance Pole (pis. 13,163). On the lower part just above the handgrip, is a face, decorated with human hair and eyes of inlaid abalone sheU, that represents the river. Above and facing the head is a fish, with a fringe of human hair on the taU, representing copper. The pole had originaUy been colored with native paint, but after it was broken, B. A. Jack mended it and painted it with red and green commercial paint. The pole is an heirloom of Raven's Bones House and Fort House. The Tl'ukanxAdi had a Devilfish Pole, made by D. S. Benson, described by MJ as "shaped like a devUfish with sucker buttons on the arms. It was beautiful." Another said that it was "the most beautiful one I ever see. They put abalone sheUs on the inside of the suckers." This pole was destroyed (by accident?, by mahce?, or to prevent its sale), and is now repre- sented by a miniature model carved from yeUow cedar by B. A. Jack (pi. 163). This represents an octopus, with anthropomorphic face at the bottom, and four long arms, extending straight up, within which is the semisquatting figure of a nude woman. This was carved separately and inserted between the arms, and represents the woman who married the DevUfish. The Tl'uknaxAdi claims to the pole are based on the story of how Raven obtained the original pole from its owner, XXnAxqatwaya at Dry Bay to hook ashore a big coU of kelp (or an "ark"), fiUed with birds, animals, sea otters, and other "precious stuff" (p. 867). I gather that the Tl'uknaxAdi imitate Raven's efforts in dragging this treasure ashore when using this dance pole at a potlatch. Apparently other sib regalia memoriahzing IN THREE PARTS THE POTLATCH 619 this myth are or were in Whale House in Sitka, unless Sitka Charley sold them aU to a museum (MJ). The photographs taken at Sitka in 1904 (pis. 210-212) show what appear to be two long oarhke dance paddles, one with an anthropomorphic face at the bottom and octopus suckers above, as weU as a fringe of human hair. The other has a Raven's head near the bottom of the blade. The third, shorter dance wand is in the shape of a Raven. With these poles or paddles, the song leaders directed the singing. "The song leader always has to keep their voice steady. And when they dance, everybody watch that, if the song leader's going to lift it up and down. They move by that." This was apparently a physically tiring job, as well as a nerve-racking one because of the strain of com- petition. The song leader was supposed to have a bass voice and usuaUy began the song by singing the refrain through first before the rest of the singers joined in for the first stanza. He usuaUy caUed out the words before each phrase, and might give other directions, such as "From the beginning!" No song leader was needed by the hosts, for each individual introduced the song of his own selection when it came his turn, or asked the chief to do it for him. The chief introduced the most important potlatch songs himself, and perhaps for this reason carried an ornamented cane (wutsaga). Jim Kardeetoo had such a cane, with carved top suggesting an anthropomorphic head, decorated with human hair. He carried this at the dedication of the Golden Eagle Screen in Drum House (pi. 2l3g). Tanu^, head of Golden Eagle House, held an elaborately carved cane when he was among the Teqwedi guests at the Tl'uknaxAdi potlatch in 1916, when he probably used it to emphasize points in his speeches to his hosts (p. 214/). A number of older, and evidently prominent men among the Tl'uknaxAdi guests at Sitka in 1904 carried canes, presumably for the same purpose (p. 210). At aceremony in Thunderbird House, Yakutat, Frank Italio, one of the CAnkuqedi hosts, held an elaborately carved cane (pi. 215a). This same cane, or one identical to it, was coUected by Emmons and is now in the Museum of the American Indian (pi. 162). It is described as "a chief's famUy wand used at a potlatch." The figures from the top down are: Eagle or Thunderbu-d, olf's Whead, she-Bear's head (with labret?), and Wolf. AU songs and dances were rehearsed long in advance of the potlatch. WhUe the Dry Bay woman song leader for the potlatch in 1910 was not chosen untU the evening before she was to perform, this was not customary, at least for the men who carried the greater responsibUity. In fact, one informant indicated that the song leader served for some years and that his replacement was finaUy chosen or elected at a meeting. Since the latter was then given the dance paddle, the succession was supposed to be kept within the lineage or group of closely related houses, for there were bitter feehngs if the paddle were obtained by another lineage of the sib. Arrival of the Guests KWACKQWAN POTLATCH, YAKUTAT, 1905 What HKB remembers most clearly is the arrival of the guests invited to the great K'^ackqwan potlatch in 1905. The foUowing account is compUed from nar- ratives on July 11, 1952 and May 2, 1954. "His younger brother, Moses, Djinuk-'ic, had it for Chief George [Yaxodaqet, who died in 1903]. . . . My tribe gave the po'latch. They invited people from Cordova, KataUa, Bering River and Kayak Island. They held the potlatch in the Old VUlage, but the dock [at the new part of Yakutat] was here already because they buUt the cannery [saltery then] in 1902. . . . The Copper River song leaders who came were Frank Thomas (Tcicqedi) and Chief Dick (Galyix- Kagwantan) . The Kagwantan and the Tcicqedi danced together. From Kayak Island, Chief John, chief of the Kagwantan, was the leader. He's the 'big man' [Imgit-tlen, sib chief]. George Johnson's uncle, Naxa- cani, was the Tcicqedi chief from there [KataUa]." In addition. Chief Moses "invited from the hometown the Teqwedi. ... so they can dance together. "Nakani went after the tribes up north: Sitka Ned (Tewedi), and John YanEstEt (Galyix-Kagwantan)— that's a Tlingit name. . . . Before that, Sitka Ned before he left, he's meeting with the tribes, Kwackqwan tribes [lineages]. No airplane that time, just boats, steamboats. He said, 'If the people are coming, the ones you invited, if the people are in the boat, I'm going to tell the captain of the boat to blow his whistle as soon as they come around that point over there [Point Carew at the entrance to Monti Bay]. Two short whistles, so the people can get prepared at Yakutat.' "The day the guests were invited, the people got dressed up to be ready. The people listen. There's a boat coming. "And a boat came from the west. No whistle. They don't blow the whistle at the point. And the people from Yakutat says, 'They're going to sneak up on us.' 'They're sneaking in on us. They try to beat us.' But anyway, Teqwedi is ready to dance against that one. "Nobody in that one. They don't come in that one. "Next boat came. Soon as they come around that point there, they blow two short whistles. "Fine day—good day—sunshine. . . . Early fall, 620 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 westerly wind. You can hear the Indians singing on that boat, way out there yet. AU the Indians standing on top of the captain's cabin, that pUot house, with [a smaU American] flag in each hand. . . . They sing- ing a song. ... A walking song, 'Steamboat Song.' "The suiging is that way. . . . Not every one, but some of the walking songs, the song leader singing it for short. When everybody going to start [the nakani fires a gun, or gives a signal], everybody sing. But that time, the boat whistle started. When the song leader [is] singing that song by himself [and] when everybody going to start, that boat make a short whistle—everybody sing. In certain place, when everybody stop, the boat make a whistle again. "As soon as it come around the point, you can hear the song. They imitate the Copper River dance. It's a wonderful song. There's a song leader—^just one man sings in a bass voice. Then they toot the whistle and everybody sings. Then they stop. Then they blow the whistle two times and then everybodystops. They were aU dressed up in beaded costumes with feathers on their head. "[They sang] two songs. The first one, when they [were] way out in there, they sing it this way": [The foUowing words are incomplete.] "ya ha .... ^ sAui sa, sAui sa ya ha yu ho sAni sa . . . . sAui sa" [The next was a dancing song.] "And then they come to that dock. "The boat was going to come to the VUlage [Old Yakutat], but it come to he cannery dock instead. There was a west wind blowing" and the beach at the Old VUlage was too exposed. The hosts had provided tents and firewood for their guests on "Canoe Island" near the Old Village, but the visitors were taken that night to the cannery bunkhouses. "[The Galyix-Kagwantan guests announced]: 'To- morrow we'U meet on the sand beach [by the cannery] and we'U dance. The Teqwedi are going to dance against us.' AU the Eagle tribe at Yakutat were going to dance against the invited westward tribes." The next day, the Kagwantan danced on the sand beach by the cannery. AU the Teqwedi came over from the Old ViUage in canoes. "The Yakutat Teqwedi with war canoes watch the westward Kagwantan dance on the beach. It's a peace dance. The Kwackqwan [hosts] watched them too, but not from canoes." Perhaps the latter were not yet officiaUy present. "Then the Teqwedi went back to the VUlage and dressed up and danced on the beach, and the Kagwantan came and watched them from canoes." The canoes were apparently furnished by the Teqwedi to their rivals, so that the latter could come to the Old VUlage and watch them dance on the beach in front of their own hometown. Presumably the peace songs which each side had composed to the others' sib-chUdren were sung for these dances. Before the hosts appeared, "that Qalyix-Kagwantan and that Teqwedi, they talking to each other because they dancing against each other. ... I remember the first words Chief John uses when . . . they coming on the war canoes in front of the viUage. They singing a song. When they start, Teqwedi were all dressed up for dancing, standing on the beach, but it's dark. And Qalyix-Kagwantan ask the Teqwedi chief: 'gusA sitAn t6a^—Where is the dead Humpback Sahnon lying?' [referring to the house of the deceased Kwackqwan chief by the eponymous totem of his sib, using the Tlingit word]. He give that question to that Teqwedi chief, Ned Daknaqin [of Drum House]." The Teqwedi chief had to answer. It should properly have been Jim Kardetoo, chief of Bear House or Shark House, and "chief of the tribe, but he was out of town. And that Teqwedi chief don't answer it. He get stuck. He don't know how he's going to answer that question. ... [It meant] 'Where is the K'^ackqwan tribe house?' They don't know it, see? It's dark. "And so Joseph Abraham answer that question. [He was Daknaqin's nephew.] He's song leader, he's not supposed to be chief. But anyway, he answer that question. Nobody there to answer it. And Joseph Abraham answers it this way: ' 'a'awE 'i 'i§eyak 'itt'is— You anchor right in front of it.' "... He catch on, the chief, this Kagwantan, where the humpback salmon is [i.e.. Raven's Bones House]. "That's the way chiefs talk to each other. [They don't say what they mean in plain language.] That's why it's hard to understand. A common man like me don't understand it. Somebody have to explain it when they talking to each other. "Then they put the guests in the tribal house and welcome them. Chief Moses speaks from the porch. All went into Yel saqi hit [Raven's Bones House]. Now when they try to do the best respect way for the other town coming the chief takes off his shoes, if he has them on to meet the war canoes of his guests. And he rolls up his pants over his knees, and goes in the water to meet the guests. Just as he touches the boat, he says 'Welcome!' and he goes back to his house. "If he is Raven (or Eagle), when aU the tribes who he is welcoming are in the house—the chief sits by the door. All who are invited are in the back of the house. The chief then stood on the porch [bench] by the door, and he put out his hands [arms extended]: 'I welcome you. The warmest place under my wings,' he says it like Raven, 'the warmest place under my feathers, I welcome you.* "Then they gave everybody something to eat. Everybody was happy and the guests were welcome." IN THREE PARTS THE POTLATCH 621 RECEPTION or GUESTS AT CHILKAT, 1899 Swanton has described (1908, p. 439) the warlike reception given the Kagwantan guests from Stika by their QanAxtedi hosts at ChUkat. "When the visitors reached Klukwan the first man to come out of the house was Yelxa'k, who wore a hat provided with ears and covered with abalone sheU. He had a bow and arrows in his hand, and as he came down he kept making the motions of letting go an arrow. He did this because he was about to spend a great quantity of money and wished to show how brave he was." This beUigerent performance contrasts with the de- scription of the K'^ackqwan welcome just described. However, the Yakutat Teqwedi evidently affected such southeastern Alaskan manners to some extent, in making use of a simUar headdress that symbohzed determination and herosim, both in facing the enemy and in lavish giving. This has already been described in connection with the warrior's costume (p. 591). As explained to me: "Xuts gAnguc—'brown bear's ear.' AU the Teqwedi use that brown bear's ear. Like American flag belongs to aU America, this thing belongs to the whole tribe of Teqwedi. That brown bear's ears belongs to them. It's the sign of war or trouble. When somebody comes to that big chief and asks for that ear—'The brown bear's ear, give it to me. I'm going to put it on'— the people know there's trouble. They know there's something going on. That's the way it is when somebody gives a potlatch. When someone's going to put up so much property, he's the one asks for that brown bear's ear. 'Give me that brown bear's ear. I'm going to tie that on my face.' Then the people know he's going to give away lots." POTLATCH AT BEAR HOUSE, SITUK, 1905 When Situk Jim gave a potlatch in the winter of 1905(?) for Bear House at Situk, guests from Yakutat and Dry Bay came on foot with snowshoes and sleds. The Yakutat Kwackqwan (and a few Tl'uknaxAdi, among whom was Minnie Johnson), danced against the Dry Bay Tl'uknaxAdi and Tluk'^axAdi. MJ's older sister, Xosal-tla (K'^ackca), was the wife of the host and one of the nakani. She apparently went to Yakutat to give invitations to the guests, for we are told that she answered the objections of her sister's White husband, who did not want his wife to take part in the potlatch. ' 'Why don't you want your wife there? . . . It's for her father.' " And the woman promised that her young sister would sleep in her own room in the new house, not on the floor with the ordinary guests. The potlatch was in memory of I^adanek Johnstone (1843-88), the ruins of whose Coward House were near that of his son-in-law (p. 321). "AU the Teqwedi of Yakutat helped Situk Jim and Situk Harry [his younger brother] to give the potlatch. They went on ahead of us—Joseph [Abraham], Sitka Ned, Old Tanui [Jim Itiniscu—all Teqwedi men]. . . . They met us down at the beach [on the riverbank]. The Dry Bays went on the beach and welcomed us Yakutats. The owner's wife is supposed to be nakani. My sister was nakani. At the time there was no such a thing as a woman wearing pants. It would be a shame on her brother's face. She had on such long skirts, dragging through the snow. We said, 'What you make a traU for other people?' It [the skirt] was just frozen stiff. She had a gopher robe, belted on. . . . "Dry Bay danced on the beach to welcome us. We're not supposed to cross the river untU they get through. Men, women, and little kids dance. . . . "We came in first. . . . We danced Copper River dance, Kwackqwan. We aU get together on the K'^ack- qwan side. Also the Dry Bay Tl'uknaxAdi and Tluknax- Adi danced on the other side. . . . After one dance was over, then the Dry Bays dance. . . . "We didn't even know what on earth we going to do. I tried to hide myself in a corner of the smoke- house. I was raised in the mission. I don't know what to do. My cousin [Judith, daughter of Chief Minaman, another mission girl] and I were both raised 'Whites.' They put paint on our faces. . . . My aunties [father's sisters?] paint my face. . . . We can't get out of it. We have to dance. . . . We were played out. We had walked 10 mUes on soft snow. They caUed us 'tled-qa qu-'ixi—invited White ladies.' The opposite Crow people is watching you. Any mistake you make, you is laughing stock! We were so green we were chewing gum!" What perhaps made it harder^ for the two mission girls was that the Reverend Johnson disapproved of potlatches. "Albin Johnson didn't want me to go. But we talked him out of a sled [on which to take their clothes and blankets]. 'It's a sin to paint your face,' he said." "Her husband [Situk Jim] invite so many people, so my aunt [older sister?] and him had to sleep by the door. AU guuEtkAuayi sleep in that potlatch house. My sister and her husband were laying by the door on a locker. She said, 'I told [your husband] I'm going to take care of you, [and give you my room], but I can't refuse your sAui (my father's nephew [Sitka Ned?]), so she takes me upstairs. It's chock-a- block fuU of people. There's a pUe of blankets makes a soft bed. But in the morning, before Crow makes a noise, drum is going. It's dark! Ci sati [song leaders] on both sides Avere drumming, take turns." (Later episodes in this potlatch are given on pp. 624, 627, 630, 634, 638). 622 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 RECEPTION OF VISITORS, PORT MULGRAVE, 1791 WhUe the reports of Malaspina's expedition do not seem to refer specificaUy to potlatches or to genuine peace ceremonies, nevertheless they do describe the ceremonious reception of visitors, both European and native, and the singing of "peace" songs on these and other occasions. This is all suggestive of the manner in which guests at a potlatch may have been received by their hosts, and peace dances carried out by the opposing groups of guests at a potlatch or the two parties at a peace ceremony. The Spanish ships were met by two canoes of men, accompanied by the chief in his httle kayak, and the natives welcomed them with signs and songs indicating their peaceful intentions (see p. 141; pi. 40). As described by Suria, as soon as the canoes came close to the ships: ". . . aU except the steersman stood up, and at the sound of a stentorian and frightful voice which the ughest one, who was in the center, uttered, they aU extended their hands together in the form of a cross with great violence, and turning their heads to one side intoned a very sad song in their language, which, however, preserved tune and time. It was composed of only three notes although the measure varied. Soon they continued with other songs in this style, but very agreeable and sonorous. Amid aU that confusion the one in the middle could be heard dictating the words with a loud voice and carrying the measure, making various contortions and movements for this purpose, now to one side and now to the other, with his right arm extended and at times looking towards the sun. The others understood him perfectly, keeping good time. On other occasions, after a short pause, they continued with a gTcat shout, repeating it three times, and, striking the palms of their hands against those who were carrying the tune and those of the rowers, finished by extending their arms in the form of the cross. [As the ships moved into Port Mulgrave, the canoes followed them, the occupants] always singing songs which, although harsh on account of the pronunciation, were not very disagreeable." [Wagner, 1963, pp. 247-248.] The chief, by caUing out the words and indicating the time, is acting in his traditional role of song leader which he may assume on important occasions. The wide-extended arms are certainly a sign of peaceful in- tentions. The shouts at the end of the song may be simUar to the "waaadl" which is caUed out by the captors or hosts of the 'deer' at a peace ceremony (p. 598). The same "hymn of peace" and the same gestures of arms in the shape of a cross were employed by the natives when good feeling was being restored after the various episodes of friction foUowing their thefts from the Spaniards (p. 151). I have ah-eady commented on the seemingly hostUe reception given the canoes of visiting Indians, and how the latter, after the Spaniards, at the request of their hosts, had fired a volley into the air, also sang the hymn of peace as they came to the shore. The whole episode is interpreted as the usual welcome for guests (p. 146). Suria has further observations to make on the re- ception of visitors, and on the song used in making peace with the Spaniards. "We noted that whenever some canoe from the neighborhood whose Indians are subject to some other chief come to this island [from context this would appear to be Ankau Point with the grave monuments; it may be Khantaak Island(?)] they make a salute to it which is worth describing. As soon as they see them they go down to the beach and aU together in unison kneel untU they remain on their knees and on standing up they utter a great cry, very ugly, and ferocious, on a gangora [gangosa?, 'nasal' (adj.)] which sounds something like an N. This they repeat three times and at the last end with a very sharp and quavering shriek." [Wagner, 1936, p. 258.] From this obscure passage it is impossible to tell who is kneeling and shouting, whether it is the visitors paying some kind of respect to the local inhabitants or to the grave monuments, or whether the local natives are greeting their visitors. Suria continues without a break: "On the occasion of receiving foreigners they make use of many songs aU different, as I have described on the 27th when we entered this port [see above]. They also make use of others of this style in order to ask for peace as we found out as the re- sult of having suspended commerce with skins with them for a day. Believing that we were very angry they did not stop singing aU afternoon and night and as this song is interesting, I find it necessary to give an account of it. "They divided themselves into three parties each of considerable numbers and planted themselves on the beach in front of the ships. At the end of each song they finished with a kind of laugh which jointly and in measure they sustained on this sound, Xa Xa Xa Xa Xa. In others they ended with another sound which cannot be described but it was like the barking of a dog. Thus they went on all night, leaving us unable to sleep." [Wagner, 1936, p. 258.) The threefold division of the natives would be that normaUy expected at a potlatch, or at welcoming guests to a potlatch, where the hosts compose one group, and the guests form two groups of singers and dancers, opposed as rivals to each other. This arrange- IN THREE PARTS THE POTLATCH 623 ment does not quite fit the situation on this occasion, however, for the Spaniards were the subject of their attention. Perhaps we are to interpret the three groups of native singers simply as representing three sibs. I have already speculated as to what might happen in the course of a potlatch in discussing the framework of a large house near the cemetery on Ankau Point (p. 312). _ Malaspina noted that the natives of Port Mulgrave had "reaUy harmonious hymns of peace, war, rejoicing and devotion . . ." (1885, p. 349). He was also im- pressed by the language used by the chiefs in haranguing their foUowers for it "[has] not only oratorical harmony and volubUity, accompanied by extremely expressive gestures, but also [we can see] the ease with which it is adapted to the new ideas which they acquire through contact with Europeans." ENTERTAINMENT AT THE POTLATCH Feasts Before the Potlatch Very httle specific information was obtained about the dances or entertainment before the potlatch proper, that is, before the ceremony in which the hosts accumu- lated and distributed wealth to their guests. When the Kwackqwan entertained the Galyix-Kagwantan and Teqwedi in 1905, I understood at first that the pot- latch was given the day after the guests had been welcomed to Raven's Bones House, but my informant later said that he could not remember how soon after- wards the potlatch was held. It was more usual, I beheve, to have up to four days of parties (feasts and dancing) before the potlatch. These parties were some- times given only in the house of the principal host chief, but it was not unusual for a few of the other important hneage chiefs of his sib to entertain the guests in their houses. On the mornings of these days, the song leaders woke early and sang dancing songs before the raven caUed. The parties were in the evening, and aU were notified in the morning by the nakani. On these occasions the guests came dancing into the house, and were formaUy seated as they would be later at the time of the pot- latch, with the men at the back of the house and the women on the sides toward the rear, but with the two guest sibs on opposite sides (fig. 70). The hosts and their women were at the front of the house. The host chief usuaUy made speeches to welcome his guests, his group sang, and the women of his sib danced. The guest chiefs answered his speeches. The song leaders for each group of guests might sit on chairs in front of the men, or sometimes, the "song leaders sit in the corner and got the totem pole [dance paddle] aU ready in the hand, ready to start to sing. Any time the song leader [of the Tl'uknaxAdi, for example] start a dance, aU the Tl'uknaxAdi stand up and dance." Although the songs of both hosts and guests were accompanied by the drum, I did not discover how many drummers were customary, how they were chosen, or where they sat. Since almost everyone who sang for the tape-recorder could use a drum, and since no par- ticular mention was made of drummers by informants, I gather that in native eyes they were not nearly as important as the song leaders. Although rattles were also used, for example by chiefs and probably by others, the occasions and persons using rattles were not ex- plained. That some men were regularly drummers, as others were song leaders, is suggested by the fact that informants identified the man with the drum in the picture of Tl'uknaxAdi guests at the Sitka potlatch in 1904, even though his face was hidden (pi. 2llt). This man was Teet MUton, (1878-1920, Ka'u or Detxun), a Teqwedi man then (?) married to a Tl'uknaxAdi wife, the daughter of Daknaqin. Was he with the Tl'uknaxAdi guests as a nakani? Was it customary for the nakani to beat the drum? The old houses were admirably adapted as theaters because the spectators sat on one or more raised benches around the walls, and stUl more could watch from the high shelf above the sleeping rooms. If the bench had been partitioned off in any way to make sleeping places, the curtains or boxes were aU cleared away to accom- modate the crowd. Modern houses lack such benches, but in the latter "they always make a platform. They always buUd it that way, every time they have a pot- latch. Seating place about three feet high, just tem- porary, every time they going to have a potlatch. . . . Make it look hke olden days." In front of the platform were rows of benches, chairs, and piUows, At prehminary parties the hosts usuaUy put on a show of some kind to impress their guests. The latter were feasted, and this might involve feats of gluttony. The guests then danced to express their thanks. The two groups "danced against each other," taking turns. 624 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 The order of events at these parties may never have been fixed, and in more recent years, as the whole pot- latch sequence became shortened, there was evidently a simplification of the preliminary ceremonies. AU this makes it difficult for us to reconstruct what was done at an earher period. Thus, of the preliminaries to the Teqwedi potlatch at Situk in 1905, I was told only that on the day the guests arrived: "There was a big party that night. After the dancing and performance, everybody eats." (MJ) Apparently the potlatch itself began the foUowing day. Except for the women who danced and the men who took part in special exhibitions (pp. 627-629), I beheve that none of the hosts wore fancy or ceremonial cos- tumes, reserving their crest hats, headdresses, crest blankets and other heirloom accouterments for the potlatch itseff. WhUe I know that the guests were elaborately dressed for the feasts and dances after the potlatch and was told that they wore their fine bead- work and ceremonial garb every time they danced, there was no specific information given about their appearance at the party or parties before the potlatch. In southeastern Alaska, where the guests might be expected to eat or drink oU untU they vomited as a way of honoring their hosts, they could hardly have been expected to wear their finery and must have worn ordinary clothes. Probably the feasting came first, and then the guests retired to dress and returned to dance. Swanton (1908, pp. 439-441) indicates, however, that the guests came to the feast in costume, danced into the house, and apparently ate some of the food "wearing their valuable hats," and danced between courses. However, there were also eating contests, and "In these various sports the people threw grease on one another and aU over the floor." Perhaps for this they set aside their best clothing, and resumed it again for the dances. I imagine that the same doffing and donning of costumes was also done at Yakutat. There must in fact have been considerable shifting of places, because dances by one group of guests were usuaUy given on one side of the house which had been speciaUy cleared, whUe the audience, hosts and other guests, moved to the other side to watch (see also p. 642). Singing and Dancing by the Guests For entering the house where they were to be enter- tained, the guests had special songs. They sang a "walking song" (yAn'At da ciyi, 'walking along song'), whUe marching to or through the door (hit kAwul da ciyi, 'house doonvay song'); and entered to a "dancing song" (I'ex da ciyi, 'dance song'). After the feasts, and probably between courses, there was also dancing by the guests to express their appreciation, but each side had to be careful not to sing and dance more than four times, for such ostentation might provoke the rival guests to a fight. It was on these occasions that foreign songs were used—^Atna, Southern Tutchone, or Tsimshian—and foreign dances were especiaUy featured. Two rival guest groups also repeated their peace songs to each other's sib-chUdren, although I do not know exactly when these were sung. As one informant explained: "The Indians always sing a song when they're walking. That's why we call them walking songs. Then when they have a potlatch, first one going in the door, they have to dance into the house. . . . [Suppose you invited them into this house:] They get together in the tribe's house [i.e., the guests assemble in a house of their own sib?, or where they are visiting?]. They start singing, walk into this door, then they end it, [That's the walldng song.] Then they dance into the house—another special song for it. Then after they get in, four popular songs—'fun, good time,' sAgu. Four of them . . . always four." During the feast, there was singing by the guests of "sitting down songs" (qfn da ciyi; cf. Boas, 1917, p. 164, q'e, 'to sit' plural). These were also of non- Tlingit origin. After the party the guests danced out of the house to the same walking song which they had sung for entering. Except for the peace songs, aU the others that were sung by the guests were termed "popular songs" (lAdjii ci), not because they were popular in our sense, I believe, but because they were not the copyright of any sib or any individual. They were aU apparently of non-Tlingit origin. Thus, the Kwackqwan and Qalyix-Kagwantan use Copper River Atna songs and dances, and occasionaUy a Chugach Eskimo one. The Tluk'^axAdi and CAnkuqedi use Alsek River songs, some with Southern Tutchone Athabaskan words, others with Tlmgit words; and the Dry Bay Tl'uknaxAdi and Kagwantan do the same. When invited to south- eastern Alaska, however the Tl'uknaxAdi from Yakutat and Dry Bay wUl use any songs or dances typical of Yakutat, such as Atna or Chugach ones. The Teqwedi use Tsimshian songs and dances when they are guests at Yakutat, but when invited to Dry Bay might also use an Atna song. Thus, the "Steamboat Walking Song", introduced to Yakutat by the Qalyix-Kagwantan in 1905, was sung by the Teqwedi when they^were guests at Dry Bay in 1909. Swanton (1908, pp. 442^43) reports that the Sitka guests to Klukwan " 'left a dance' in that place, to show respect for theu- hosts" just before they went home, so this may be one way in which such dances are exchanged. The Sitka Kag- wantan at Dry Bay evidently had at least one Tsimshian IN THREE PARTS THE POTLATCH 625 Teqwedi Chief K(SL Kagwantan Chief Painied screen :^=*0-0<=-= T@ Kagwan-tan guesi meTT 'sliiing TeqWed i guest men ~ siiiing 5: o TSL ^ •^ ^ ^ Co 7** CO ij- s: I O Co K@ K^acl(qwan host chief Fireplace X X X X 1 1^ ^ Ik I s: I CO --"r^ - ^^ p ~ H a V e n hos't~merf sfand ing I door T ~ R a V e~n h osf ~men standing ~ FiGUKE 70.—Positions of hosts and guests at a potlatch given by the Kwackqwan to the Kagwantan and Teqwedi. H, Host chief by the door to welcome guests. X, "grandchildren" of hosts. SL, positions of guest song leaders. P, main house posts, (From a sketch by Harry K. Bremner.) 626 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 dance song; S'eltin's Marriage Song (1954, 3-1-B, p. 1226; Swanton, 1909, p, 401, Song 47). Although most of the walking songs and dancing songs which were recorded were associated in the minds of informants with the parties after the potlatch, they were also used at the preliminary feasts and may be mentioned at this time. A K'^ackqwan walking song (pp. 240,1226, Reel 7-2-A), for example, is supposed to have been used by their ancestors when coming across the ice from Copper River, "They had a feather in each hand as they were marching along, . . . When our tribe sings this song, the men and women are in a line and they move backward and forward, moving both hands to left and right." (See also pp, 240, 1226; 1954, 4-1-B,) When they pause at the door of their host's house, the K'^ackqwan may sing a "resting song," originally sung by their ancestors when they rested on a prairie during theu- terrible journey (pp, 240, 1227; 1954 7-2-B). Feath- ers are held in the hands and the movements when singing are: "Move the knees from side to side, but we don't move our feet. We dip twice on each side, and move our hands in time [across the chest from side to side with arms bent at right angles to the body]. Your knees goes with your hands. It's just like the wind goes," Another "popular song" used by the Kwackqwan for dancing is the Spear Song originaUy used by their Raven ancestors at Chitina on the Copper River when they danced against guests from an enemy village up the river. (See p. 899,) Some "sitting down" or dance songs of the CAnkuqedi and TluknaxAdi and other Dry Bay groups are sup- posed to have been the songs originaUy sung by the Tluk'^axAdi Athabaskans after they had successfully passed under the ice bridge over the Alsek River when returning from their yearly trips to the interior (p, 87; 1954, 3-1-C; 6-2-D; 6-2-E; p, 1230), Swanton (1908, pp. 439-440) mentions that indi- vidual guests at the preliminary feasts gave dances or performances imitating animals or foreign peoples, and McCleUan (1954, pp, 82-83) has pointed out how the relative geographical situation that determines with which foreign groups aUiances are made in trade and intermarriage also suggests which ones are to be imitated in songs and shows. A foreign performance of this kind was the "Aleut" (Chugach Eskimo) dance performed at Sitka by Jack EUis (1892-1952) when he was a smaU boy. This was probably the potlatch of 1904, for his picture was iden- tified among the Tl'uknaxAdi guests from Yakutat (pi. 211a). At this potlatch there were also GanAJctedi from Chilkat, Although Jack EUis was one of the youngest in his group his dance was so successful that the GanAxtedi chief wanted to take him back to Klukwan to marry him to his daughter, a high-class Kagwantan girl. The boy refused because he was only about 12 years old and was homesick. "When he was a little boy, he used to have some play or something. That's when they saw him dancing like that [so they] took him down to the dances. He was imitating a man drowning, trjdng to push away the things that was going to eat him. . . . Something like shark tried to attack him. ... He imitated a person who drowned." Another imitative dance described to me was a (solo?) performance representing an Athabaskan hunter and a lynx. It was performed in southeastern Alaska by Jack Reed (1880-1952), a Tl'uknaxAdi man who was born in Sitka but had married a Yakutat woman. I do not know whether this dance was given when he was a guest or a host, although it seems to have been like the imitative dances performed by Chilkat guests at Klukwan m 1899 (Swanton, 1908, pp. 439-^40). We should also note that he appears among the guests at the Sitka potlatch in 1904 dressed in Athabaskan costume, very similar to that which he described (pi. 210/). According to his account, he wore dancing gloves or mits, face paint, a beaded headband with feathers (Gunana ^ax'', 'Athabaskan hat'), and a band of white rabbit fur across his chest. He carried an arrow about 4 feet long, to which eagle feathers were attached. In this dance, which he had learned from the Southern Tutchone, and which was accompanied by two songs, the lynx smeUs the bait, approaches the trap, is caught in it, and is finaUy shot by the hunter. The dance was also performed at Yakutat in 1936 at a show in the ANB Hall to raise money for that organi- zation. Possibly this was not a solo dance, as I had understood, because in the photograph he is with four Raven women, two with guns and two with slender feathered wands (pi, 216). Among the many Athabaskan songs used by the Dry Bay people was the Ptarmigan Dance Song (1954, 2-1-H; p, 1229). As the singer explamed: "This is a Qunana song, belonging to Tl'uknaxAdi. It's caUed xe^Awa I'exE ['ptarmigan dance']. When the Teqwedi invite the Tl'uknaxAdi to the potlatch, men, women, and kids aU dance. They wear white clothes with down feathers on their heads and arms and hold long white feathers in their hands. It's a fast one. AU go up and down like ptarmigan." This may weU have been a "popular song," not owned by any sib, since the singer was CAnkuqedi. I have no way to distinguish the dances which may have been given by the guests before the potlatch from those performed by them during the four days of feasting after the potlatch. However, the second period of dancing was much more important at Yakutat IN THREE PARTS THE POTLATCH 627 than the first, and may therefore have included more spectacular dances. The women guests at a potlatch made cries like those of their totem animal or bird. For example, the Raven women, particularly the K^'ackqwan, are caUed 'Crow women' (tsAxM-ca), "You know, when we're in a party, K^aclica always make noise like that— like those little Crows, , , . Tl'uknaca always make noise like big yel [Raven], Teq'^ca make noise like Wolf. CAukuqca, I never hear them make noise. Tluk'^axAdi-ca just make noise like that K'^actca. . . , [They] make noise when they're invited to potlatch. Kagwantan-ca make noise just like Teq'^ca—Wolf." "At a potlatch Ravens say 'yAx!' Eagles whistle 'h^iih!' " Feasting In southeastern Alaska, as already mentioned, it was customary at the feast before the potlatch to serve embarrassingly large amounts of food or oU which the guests were honorbound to consume if they could. Swanton (1908, pp. 436-437, 439-441) has pointed out that this was often staged as a contest between two guests; or the hosts might force a man to eat until he vomited, partly for a joke, and partly to retaliate for a reported boast, or what the hosts chose to regard as a shghting remark. However, aU guests distinguished in this way were specially rewarded at the potlatch, so that the atmosphere was one of "great fun." In recent years, however, among the northern Tlingit of south- eastern Alaska, the hosts stUl serve great quantities of seal blubber, for example, and reward the unusual guests who are able to swaUow it aU, but they also provide buckets into which the majority can unobtru- sively slip what they cannot consume. Whether or not there were ever contests or ordeals of gluttony at Yakutat, I do not know, but my informants' accounts suggest only the gentler interpretation of recent Tlingit eating contests. For example, MJ reported: "In Gau hit [Drum House], when my uncle [Ned Daknaqin] and aunt gave a potlatch, they had oelachen oU in a big horn spoon. They gave some to each person to gobble it down." When asked if it didn't make them sick: "No, they just pretend to drink. . . . They [the hosts] caU the names [of the people] they're going to give it to, and they [the recipients] say 'Thank you—'ictlahaw,' " The hosts at Yakutat and Dry Bay also seem to have had enormous named feast dishes or food boxes like those which the more southern Thngit set before their guests (p. 418). "My father used to have the biggest oil box there is. He has it for feasting when 265-517—72—vol. VII, pt. 2 7 he's going to feast the opposite tribe. The name of that box was Wuctacaw[?], 'Family [of] Brown Bear.' When he buUt that house at Situk [Coward House], there was two or three kinds of grub in there, enough of it to go around to everybody. There was high-bush cranberries and mountain goat meat in taUow and bear meat and preserved strawberries. Talk about food!" When Situk Jim feasted his guests at the potlatch for Bear House in memory of his father-in-law, there was also lavish food. "My sister put up lots of native food. Robinson, the cannery superintendent, hauled aU the grub [to Situk for them]. He took a liking to my sister's husband. . . . There was a swamp behind my father's house fuU of swamp berries. They get potfuUs of berries there. The young Teqwedi go to Arhnklin Glacier for mountaiu goat. My sister put that up for the potlatch. Everyone has to be prepared." (MJ) It was, I believe, at this feast before the potlatch that food was again put into the fire or into the water for the benefit of the dead, as was the practice of the Copper River Eyak. Among the latter, the host chief would also put the dead person's belongings one at a time into the fire, but these objects and the dishes iu which the food was to be burned could be claimed by any of the guests. He would simply ask for what he wanted and give the relatives of the deceased some useful object in exchange (Birket-Smith and de Laguna, 1938, pp. 170-171). A simUar practice at Yakutat is suggested by the explanation given for the term, 'awA^a, which seems to mean a memento which is 'asked for,' especiaUy a trophy scalp (p. 585). "It's anything you [they?] give in a potlatch—^valuable stuff. They were goiag to throw it in the woods [on the grave?] or in the water [for the drowned?], and you spoke up and get it for nothing, 'Grab'—you get it for nothing at a potlatch and later you pay for it. , , . When your turn comes, you got to pay it back , . . but not right away, . , , You give it back when your turn comes to give a potlatch. You got it in your mmd aU the time." (MJ) The food served to the guests always included the items which had been most enjoyed by the dead person for whom the potlatch was given. Thus, when the Galyix-Kagwantan Bear House was buUt in 1908 at Strawberry Point by Chief John and his nephew, "They had a little potlatch for it—just whiskey, because Chief John's uncle loved whiskey." Special Shows by the Hosts At the preliminary parties before the potlatch the hosts usually scheduled a fancy performance. Thus, we see 628 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 the Dry Bay Tl'uknaxAdi m 1909 dressing theu" women in Japanese style, suggested by the Japanese saUors who had been wrecked at Dry Bay the year before (p. 645). It was probably on a similar occasion that the Sitka Kagwantan "adopted the Navy" and, in so doing, copied saUor clothes as potlatch regalia and displayed these for the first time. Unfortunately the informant's explanation of what occurred is not very clear: "See, American got that Eagle, That's Kagwantan. That's why we adopt that saUors. AU sailors. Navy, our brothers. , . . When they had a party in Sitka, always put on saUors' clothes. . . . Kagwantan's chUdren say "isAui-hAs [your father's brothers] is coming' when the Navy comes. . . . When they have party over there [at Sitka], big potlatch, we used to use Navy clothes." This costume was apparently first exhibited in Sitka (before 1899) when four female slaves were freed, and guests from four different "nations" (sibs) from ChUkat and other tribes were present. The Navy is caUed yAuwa, and Kagwantan woman are yAuwa-ca, The informant beheved that this potlatch was given in 1904, but it was evidently much earlier, for at the GanAxtedi potlatch at ChUkat in 1899, Swanton (1908, p. 440) reports that the Sitka Kagwantan were caUed "man-of-war's guests" (probably 'man-of-war guests'), "The word for man-of-war, ye'nawd, is simply a corrup- tion of the English term," This word seems to be applied particularly to Kagwantan women, yAuwa-ca, yEuwa- ca, or even wAuwa-ca, which makes it probable that the original display of Navy dress was by the women. In 1921, two young Galyix-Kagwantan women at Yakutat whose ears were pierced at a potlatch (see below, p. 637), were garbed in "Navy dress, with middy blouse. It's popular in Sitka. All Kagwantan-cawAt [woman] is saUor. I think during the war in Sitka, Kagwantan adopted the Navy, and the women are wEnwa-ca." WhUe a number of "stunts" or displays of special costumes and dances were mentioned, it was usually impossible to determine whether they were staged by the hosts or by the guests, or whether they took place at the parties before or after the potlatch. Some may weU have been offered by the hosts at the potlatcli itself, as an exhibit of sib prerogatives or as an interlude from sorrow. Probably the assumption of a special costume or the performance of a special dramatic act, like the display of a crest, was first done by a group when they were hosts and, when thus validated, might be used again when they were guests. Other foreign costumes, like Athabaskan costume, or the wide-brimmed hats ornamented with beaded fringes which were "captured from the Russian Navy," seem to have been free for any sib at Yakutat to adopt. for they were worn by Raven men and women at Sitka in 1904, and by Teqwedi men at Yakutat in 1916 (pis. 210-212, 214). Swanton (1908, p. 435; 1909, pp, 388-389) indicates that dramatic performances, some of which Ulustrated or symbolized sib crests, were given in connection with a potlatch, but he is never very explicit as to what might be staged by the hosts and what by the guests. Unfor- tunately the account which is most detaUed refers to the "feast" which would be given when a pole or grave marker had been erected. This was evidently a minor one-evening ceremony for those who had worked on the grave, given either as a preliminary to a subsequent fuU-scale potlatch or as a substitute for it. The ceremony was described by Chief Katishan of Wrangell. During this feast, but before the guests were paid, the host's nephew staged a secret society performance, like those copied from the Tsimshian (and derived ultimately from the Kwakiutl), Some of these acts were imitations of animals. Performances of this sort were evidently rather common at WrangeU among the Southern Tlingit, but there was only one man at Sitka who had been initi- ated. There is no evidence that such southern secret society demonstrations were ever adopted at Yakutat as part of the ceremonies of the potlatch, although we cannot reject the possibUity. What may have been originaUy a secret society stunt was used for a show in the ANB HaU in 1936, I have no record that it was ever used in a potlatch, although it was purchased some years ago in southeastern Alaska. It was a trick in which one man appeared to shoot another so that the blood spurted out. As explained by the principal performer: "We bought that trick from southeastern Alaska, with three songs to go with it. My uncles bought it from Peter Sikan (Raven), Sikan taught me alone. I inherit it. I am only one can use it. My partner [WiUy Brown, deceased Kwackqwan of Owl House] was afraid for me to shoot him, but he shoot me. , , , I open my shirt and the arrow is sticking in my skin. I hold it up and show it to the people." At the hypothetical WrangeU ceremony, after the feasting but before the guests were paid, three shows were staged, the first by the hosts and the others by the two groups of guests. One of these (presumably that given by the hosts) featured the appearance of a masked man who was introduced as a dead uncle, come back to see the people after being "captured" by a gunaqAd^t (wealth-bringing water monster), by a grizzly bear, or by a wolf—in this case aU crests of the host's sib. "The persons with these masks on are aU supposed to be yeks, (i.e., supernatural beings)" (Swanton, 1909, p. 389), Masked performances were apparently featured at Tlingit potlatches, for "Masks were used in the shows (ytkteyl') which each clan gave at a potlatch, but IN THREE PARTS THE POTLATCH 629 were not valued as highly as the crest hats and canea" (Swanton, 1908, p, 436). Again, whUe I know that masked performances were given at Yakutat, I learned httle about the detaUs. The masks themselves have abeady been mentioned (p. 444). Apparently Ned Daknaqin, Teqwedi head of Drum House, wore the Eagle Mask, when he was host at a potlatch and paid the carver, B. A. Jack, head of the Kwackqwan Owl House. He would seem to have been impersonating the crest bird of his sib or moiety. A photograph of a group of CAnkuqedi ia ceremonial regaha, obviously posing as hosts for some kind of funeral celebration in Thimderbird House (1918 or 1921), include one CAnkuqedi woman wearing a mask (pi. 215). This she described as a "dancing mask" for an Athabaskan dance (Gunana I'CXE). The other mask like a human face was simply described as a "danciag mask" used by the Teqwedi (pi. 157), and the copper mask hke a bear's face may not have come from Yakutat. On the basis of this slender information, we might hazard that masks were worn by the hosts at a potlatch or simUar occasion. At Eyak potlatches, a man from each moiety wore a mask representing his moiety crest bird. Raven or Eagle (Birket-Smith and de Laguna, 1938, p. 172), Apparently some of the masks used for dances at Yakutat and Dry Bay represented spirits, and some dances were staged so that the body of the performer was hidden by a blanket with only his head visible. This is the way the hosts at Angoon may exhibit a prized crest hat. When this type of dancing was de- scribed to a Yakutat informant, she told me: "Lots of people dance that way, behind a blanket. I saw Teet MUton [Teqwedi, 1888-1920] with a mask dance behind a blanket. It was a yek [spirit] mask. I don't know the name of the yek. At one potlatch someone danced a yek dance. He danced like a woman holding an eagle taU. The yek was . , , gusdAkan cawu, 'people [wom- en] from behind the clouds,'" The dancer was Lituya Bay George, Xat'kA'ayi sib, (1854-1926), and the spirit was one that had belonged to an ancestor, probably his mother's father (see "Shamans," p, 713), although I was unable to secure further detaUs, On the whole there is the suggestion that these dramatic performances, masked dances, and stunts were given at Yakutat by the hosts at a potlatch, pos- sibly during a preliminary feast when the guests were welcomed, or as part of the display of sib prerogatives and heirlooms during the potlatch proper, when the hosts sang and brought out the wealth they were to give away. Cries made both by hosts and guests at potlatch ceremonies imitated those of their totemic bird or animal, but nothing specific was learned as to when they were uttered. Possibly they might be given at any stage of the proceedings. Among the Eyak, the hosts made animal cries, Eagle, Raven, or Wolf, when they wanted their guests to dance (Birket-Smith and de Laguna, 1938, p. 172). We know of the southeastern Alaskan Tlingit that the cry of the sib animal or bird was uttered when the host chief appeared from a rear room of the house clad in his finest regaha at the beginning of the potlatch proper. This was the signal for sacrificing one or more slaves (Krause, 1956, p. 164). We also know that the "ga!" of a Raven, if uttered by a Raven host wearing an heirloom hat, could stop his guests from quarreling, and appropriate cries could be made by hosts of the opposite moiety under simUar occasions. We may also surmise that animal cries might accom- pany animal impersonations. THE POTLATCH PROPER The Hosts The potlatch proper was the one-day or two-day ceremony in which the hosts mourned their dead and gave to their guests, thereby paying the latter with the material aspect of the wealth, whUe the deceased re- ceived its spiritual counterpart. During this part of the ceremonial sequence the hosts performed almost exclusively, for if the guests sang it was only by request. The latter wore ordinary clothes, whUe the hosts donned their most elaborate costumes, especiaUy those with sib crests, the named heirlooms which belonged to the lineage or to the sib as a whole. The ceremony afforded opportunities for displaying the crests and sib preroga- tives in innumerable forms; in the house itself, in the names assumed by the host or given to his male juniors, in the regalia worn or otherwise displayed, in the partic- ular songs which traditionaUy accompanied the exhibi- tion of certain heirlooms, and in speeches. References in songs to geographical features, such as mountains or rivers, or their symbohc portrayal as crests on sib regalia such as the K'^ackqwan Mount Saint Elias 630 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 Blanket and Shirt, or the Drum House Teqwedi Ahrnldin River Blanket, also served to reiterate rights to sib territories acquired by long-dead ancestors. The potlatch was, above aU, the occasion for the almost unrestrained expression of personal grief, as each mem- ber of the host gToup spoke about his or her own bereave- ment, whUe aU were united in weeping for their common ancestors. These traditional sib songs, Avhether referring to the dead or to crests and the ancestor's adventures, are in Tlingit, unlike the marching and dancing songs used by guests at the feasts. However, the CAnkuqedi have in addition a few potlatch songs which they were given by the Aiyan Athabaskans at Fort Selkirk on the Yukon (p. 248; 1952, 4-1-A, a, b, c; p. 1173). The K'^ackqwan also have a number of Copper River mourning songs. One of the latter, for example, was said to have been composed during the journey across the ice by a man who shot his younger brother by mistake, and would therefore be particularly appro- priate in a simUar situation. The words are in Atna (pp. 239, 240; 1954, 4-1-1, 7-2-C; p. 1155). To sing this last song is very expensive, for much wealth must be given away, "AU the tribe stands, men and women together. The whole tribe just moves back and forth. The men and women sing together, . , . The men sing a bass and a tenor, and the women sing high and low, too. The four voices are singing aU at the same time," Such four-part singing is common at Yakutat. The Atna words for this song: "My little brother, where are you? Come back to me!" are typical of the Atna "worry songs," composed for Copper River potlatches. Other mourning songs which date certainly from the middle of the last century if not earlier are Wuckika's songs for her brothers who were drowned in Lituya Bay (p. 274); the lament for the Crane Canoe (p. 274); the Kagwantan lament for those slain by the CiAtqwan (p. 281); and a Kwackqwan song for a drowned man (1954, 7-2-H), The last is said to have been harmonized for two male and two female voices. More ancient songs were probably the Galyix- Kagwantan's mourning song of the little Beaver (p, 254); the Teqwedi's Golden Eagle Song (p. 253); the songs supposedly composed by Qakex^tE, now sung by the Tl'uknaxAdi (p. 271), and certain Raven songs (1952, 4-1-E; p, 848), Other ancient songs refer to the Raven Post (1954, 3-2-H; p, 1161), and to the Thunder- bu-d Screen or Blanket (1952, 2-1-F; 1954, 5-2-E, and 5-2-F). At Yakutat the potlatch itself began in the morning (?), sometimes on the day after the end of the preliminary feasts and dances. Swanton (1908, p. 441) indicates that it might begin a day or so later, the inter- vening period being devoted to the erection by the out-of-town guests of a new grave house or other monument to the hosts' dead, A new grave house for the bones of some shamans was constructed by the local CAnkuqedi in connection with the buUdmg of the Tl'uknaxAdi Far Out House at Dry Bay (see pp. 644-646), and this was therefore connected with the potlatch given by Dry Bay Chief George in the new house, although the work was apparently not done at the time of the ceremony. My informants said nothing about interrupting the potlatch cycle for work on graves. They may have been accustomed to have such services performed in advance by the local guuEt- kAuayi, rather than to ask the out-of-town guests to do it. When the potlatch itself was to be held, the people were summoned mth a drum, "Long ago they beat the drum through the streets to caU the people together, invite them to the potlatch. They [also] beat the drum when they're going to practice songs for the potlatch," (MJ) The host stood near the door of the house to welcome his guests (fig. 70), I believe that the nakani showed them to their places in the rear of the house. The men sat in rows across the back of the house, with the two principal rival chiefs side by side in the middle of the rear row, the lesser chiefs of each sib next to their leader. Other important old men were also on the rear row, but the young men sat in front. There might be four such rows, but if the guests were numerous the house might be filled as far forward as the fireplace in the center. The guest women were seated along the sidewalls next to their sib brothers. The two sib groups, however, were always on opposite sides of the house. When the Ravens were guests, for example, "they don't mix the tribes. They don't mix Tl'uknaxAdi and Kwackqwan," The hosts always stood in the front half of the house, the women along the sidewaUs next to the guest women, and the men across the front end of the house. The host chief was at the door, flanked by the other lineage heads of his sib, perhaps three on each side, who acted as his counselors or advisors (du ietx yu^AtAugi), "Sometimes the chief next to him is smarter than him." The chief also had a brother, or nephew, or sometimes an uncle, standing right behind him to prompt him if he "got stuck" and could not think of a suitable reply to a guest chief. Behind these dignitaries stood all of the men of the host moiety. Slight variations in these arrangements might de- pend upon the size of the house in proportion to the number of guests. Thus at Bear House at Situk: "The hosts are by the door. My brother-in-law gives the party. His famUy is by the door to invite. The guests are in back, ladies on each side. When they start to potlatch, the Teq^'ca [hostesses] stand in back on the IN THREE PARTS THE POTLATCH 631 side [behmd their seated women guests]. The Teqwedi men are by the door. The Teq^ca dance [from tune to tune]. The Raven men sit m the back on piUows. The Teqwedi men got to stand. If they sit down, they are cowards." (MJ) There is no question but that endurance was re- quired, both of hosts and guests, for the potlatch might last for 2 whole days and nights with only short breaks. The proceedings began apparently with a welcoming speech by the host chief, who would speak of his sorrow and the reason for the potlatch. An informant unagined that he was the chief: Raven men gu esh si' Hing on pillows ■1 <"! fireplace ave been >i ' rv^"! J ^ v» 2 Ci 1 1 \Nhev j would 1 i 1 i 1 1 % ! stove 1 s ^ K • I ^ Teqwedi men Teqwedi men stand ing 1 standing door FIGURE 7L—Positions of hosts and guests at a potlatch given by the Teqwedi for the Ravens at Bear House, Situk, in 1905. (From a sketch and description by Minnie Johnson.) "Then I give eight songs. I start the song and aU my people sing. These are old songs, potlatch songs, caUed 'akitc ['its wing'?] or naga ci ['songs for the sib']. They always talk between songs," The host and guests' chiefs, in fact, exchange speeches all the time, using language so esoteric and fuU of aUusions to sib legendary history and myth that ordi- nary people could hardly understand their oratory. The name ('akitc,) for these songs suggests that which was sung during a cremation (Swanton, 1909, p. 407, "kitcdaciyl"') and also the eight songs with which 'they danced the house together' (ibid., p. 336, line 4, "aoduVakltc"), mentioned in connection with what was discussed as a separate house-buUding feast (p. 608). When these eight songs were ended: "Then I caU on my brother or my nephew to sing a song. . , , When he is finished he puts money on the table, [to stay] untU everybody is finished. Then I caU aU the men and women in my tribe [sib], give each one a chance to sing a tribe song. He wUl say something to $;unEtkAnayi before he sings, . , . He A\T11 start to sing and the rest of his people wUl help him. Each person teU how he feel—what happened to their relatives, if they've lost a brother or a mother. Even the poor men, they give them a chance. Everybody is equal to teU their story how they feel," In addition to caUing on aU of his own sib, a K'^ack- qwan host would also caU on aU the Tl'uknaxAdi, "because they are Ravens, too, and aU the Ravens want to help out," This opportunity is given even to the Raven spouses of guests invited from far away, "Everybody. Even the smaU chUdren. , . . You're supposed to help. AU Ravens supposed to help." "That's why it sometimes takes two nights—so everybody gets a chance and everybody is satisfied. They begin in the morning and go on aU day and aU night. If it's a big tribe it might last for 2 nights. They don't stop. AU stay there untU they're finished. No- body leaves and nobody eats. "Sometimes the invited chief speaks up, asks for excuse or recess to go out. He asks the host chief to move out of the way. If he's speaking to me, he wiU say, 'Would the Raven step out of the way?) [If the host were Teqwedi he would be addressed as the Bear.] The host chief always says, 'No!' but he don't mean it.^° The other chief doesn't ask again, but after a whUe the host chief gives a recess. He says. ' 'ixAnat 'awa nuq^—I'U move out of your way.' And everyone goes out. In about half an hour they come back. The people giving the potlatch stand in the doorway. They never sit down," SINGING The host chief is master of ceremonies. He is the one to "look after the songs. He's looking after the whole thing, the chief when he's giving a potlatch. . . , Each person has to sing," The chief caUs on aU by name, beginning with the most important men and women, "If I'm one of his tribe, he's going to mention my name. . . , My big name [honorable or potlatch name], 'gucw^ 'Etc !' ['AU right, it's by-you']—and he mentions my name. "It's up to you, ." Then I always say a word to these people, which ones we invited. If I don't know what to say , , . I tell him , , , The chief do the talking for me. Then I start a song, my tribe's song. "o Swanton (1908, p. 440) gives an example of such contrary speech when the host at the feast announces that no one will eat that day, meaning exactly the opposite. 632 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 And after I ended that one song, I put up the money, Nakani looks out for it, always put in one place, dish, or box or anything. The next person, same thing. . . . They always sing tribe song," When one person starts a song, "everybody, the whole tribe is singing, woman and man. Sometimes the opposite tribe help, too, [If a person can't sing when called on, he] mention the song, and somebody sing it for them, if he don't know how. Chief always helps. That's what the chief there for." WhUe new mourning songs might be composed for a potlatch, each person who proposed a song was ex- pected to choose an appropriate one from those already in the repertoire. "There's a song composed if you lost your brother. That's a song you're going to sing. It's already com- posed. There's so many songs. If I lost a mother, there's already song composed about it. Suppose I lost my sister, there's already song composed about it, so many years ago. , , . They had so many songs . . , some of them pretty sad. Somebody got shot and kiUed . , . a brother drown , . . song's already there, so you wouldn't get stuck. . , . They always practice, so many days, sometimes so many months [before the potlatch]. How they practice—the chiefs always have a meeting, lots of meetings. And U I'm going to sing a song, I ask my chief, 'Is it all right if I sing this song? I lost my brother,' Maybe he said, 'No, I got a better one than that.' Maybe he says, 'Yes,' " These "tribal songs" (naga ci 'songs about the sib,') are traditional songs belonging to the sib. Many are mourning songs (tuwunuk^ da ciyi, 'sad songs'; yA- dAli-ci, 'heavy songs'; or tuwunik datx ci, 'songs about one's feelings'). These were supposedly composed and sung for the dead (or by the dying) in the legendary past or a generation and more ago. Other sib songs which are sung at potlatches refer directly to incidents in sib legends, often those concerned with the acquisi- tion of a crest, the Raven sibs drawing upon the myths of the Raven cycle for this purpose. Such songs may be caUed 'ancient songs' (tcak^ ci). The words of such songs referring to myths may not themselves be sorrowful, but, like the ancient mourning songs, the rhythms are heavy and slow, the tunes solemn, and the songs as a whole are felt to be sad because of their association with so many potlatches and so many dead singers. To judge by the floods of tears which such songs now inspire, I gather that the potlatch was punctuated by violent weeping. However, even those most afflicted did not cry all the time. "No, they just feeling sorry when they talk. After they sing a song and put up the money, it's aU over then. Then another one coming up—same way." The chiefs who spoke, however, were supposed to be able to control their emotions, for I heard criticism of one man as a speaker at funerals because he always wept. Songs were accompanied with drums of tambourine type with a deerskin head. Sometimes sib crests were painted inside the head where they would not be worn off by beating. Such is the drum carried by Teet Milton at the Sitka potlatch in 1904. The Raven Drum (yel gau) of the Kwackqwan was photographed at Yakutat in 1949 (pi. 166). The painting inside the drumhead shows a Raven sitting on a rock (symbolized as a head), with two humpback salmon below, to represent the Humpback Sahnon Stream (K'^ack) with the big rock under which the fish swim. For certain songs a big wooden drum was used. This was made like a box with a single bent plank of cedar wood for the side, open at one end, "just big enough for a hand to go inside and beat it" (MJ). It was hung by a rope from the ceUing, Such drums were decorated with sib crests on the sides. AU decorated drums were named. A wooden box drum was purchased at Yakutat by G. G, Heye in 1938 (pi. 165), and may be the Moon Drum (dis gau), formerly owned by Kayak Tom (De- tten, Kactan-'ic, of Moon House). This drum stands a yard high and is decorated on both sides with almost identical designs representing the Owl, with eyes of abalone shell, painted within what I interpret to be the disk of the full moon. The Teqwedi's KiUerwhale Drum (kit gau) originaUy belonged to Chief Shakes of Wrangell (p, 459) and is now in the Portland Art Museum (pi. 164). The figure of the KUlerwhale is painted in red and black on each side in a circle. On top of the drum is a fine carving of the dorsal fin, inlaid with opercula and eight tufts of human hair. On each side of the fin is carved a human figure seated on a human head. This is the man "Na-ta-see" who befriended a kUlerwhale that was stuck on a rock, and who in turn was rescued by it when marooned by former friends. The design, painted in red, black, green, and white represents the man being carried safely to the mainland by the kUlerwhale. This fin is detachable (pL 144). Rattles were not used for the solemn songs, except that occasionally, in memory of a dead shaman, his spirit song might be simg and in such a case his rattle would be used to accompany it. As shamanism grad- ually became obsolete, the singing of spirit songs seems to have become more common at potlatches and at funerals. Thus, the Tsimshian song of the ChUdren of the Sun spirits, used by the Teqwedi shaman, Tek-'ic, was sung at the death of Jim Kardeetoo, who should have inherited his powers (1954, 6-1-A; p. 718). A Kwackqwan spirit song, attributed to Daxodzu who foretold the arrival of the Russian ships, and which is preceded by the Owl cry when sung, is now called a "national song" by IN THREE PARTS THE POTLATCH 633 the K'^ackqwan, meaning that it is a sib song used at potlatches (1954, 7-2-E; pp. 712-713), New songs are, of course, made and sung at potlatches and eventuaUy come to be considered as sib songs. Such a song is that composed by Dry Bay Chief George for his potlatch of 1909 to commemorate relatives who had drowned. Freely translated the words are: "It was your fault, O World, that made me so much sorrow. "I wish you (my relatives) could hear my voice, sorrowing, so you would come ba ck alive, as happened in ancient days," (1952, 1-1-A; p, 1162.) Sometimes a composer's own song was sung in his memory, and it is not unusual on such occasions to ask his chUdren—who would be, of course, among the guests—to sing it, for which they would receive special gifts. Or, guests might be requested to sing a song of their own, if there were one considered appropriate. For example, at the funeral "party" or potlatch planned for Mrs, Jenny Kardeetoo (Tle'an, 1872-1951), an important K'^ackqwan woman, it was planned to ask the Teqwedi to sing the song which was supposedly composed by the Sitka men threatened with shipwreck. They had broken a taboo connected with gettmg bluepaint (1954,6-1-1; p. 1165; cf. Swanton, 1909, Tale 17, p. 46, for words of the song). These Teqwedi men were facing death bravely, so the render- ing of this song would doubtless be heartening to the dead woman's chUdren, since their father had been Teqwedi, "Whenever they [Teqwedi] feel bad, lose best man for Teqwedi, they always sing that song," Phonograph records of songs recorded in 1952 and 1954 have also been played at recent "potlatches," and in one case a guest was paid $4.50 for playing one on his machine. DANCING Dancing accompanied the singing of the hosts. This was done primarUy by the host women, who wore long swinging earrings (guk*^ tlenx) made of beads strung or tied on with red yarn. Their faces were painted with designs associated with the sib crest, sometimes applied by means of a wooden stamp. They wore blankets, usuaUy the button blankets of blue serge with red borders, although some had Chilkat blankets. Blankets were apparently considered essential for dancing, be- cause in teUing about an impromptu dance, a woman said: "We didn't have blankets, but we used our coats, and we put bands around our hair and struck flowers in like feathers." Host women might wear a silk kerchief and a Hudson's Bay Company cockade, or the wooden headdress (cAki'At). Usually their husband's sisters or father's sisters (or the latter's daughters) were caUed upon to robe and paint them, for which services they were paid at the potlatch. Slaves who assisted in attiring the famUy of a chief were freed. Because of the crowded floor, dancing was done largely with the body and arms, but without moving from the spot. Young men, even smaU boys, of the host sib danced from time to time in cAki'At, the headdress with the square masklike plaque above the forehead depicting the sib totem. The songs to which they danced were Tlingit songs addressed to sib-chUdren, but caUed 'Haida mouth songs' (Dekina ia ciyi), because they were supposed to be in the same rhythmic style as Haida love songs or dance songs. "Mostly Haida have cAki'At and dance with it to songs like these," and the Tlingit utUize such songs and dances as special potlatch features. The liveher rhythm is sup- posed to be like "jitterbugging." One song of this type, composed by Skin Canoe George, (^S^eyegatqin, 1855-1900), chief of Drum House, has for the first stanza: "Why is the Wolf crying on the beach? Go to Teqwedi-chUdren, they'U weep with you." The second stanza apparently asks: "Kagwantan-chUdren, give me your hand before I die." I was told that when a song hke this was first composed, the composer would sing it at a potlatch, just for fun, as a relief from crying. This song had been sung ia that manner, whUe the composer's little nephew danced to it, presumably in a CAki'At. Then the uncle paid money to the nakani, although he did not give his nephew a new name. "Little boys dance when the Teqwedi give a potlatch. Mostly when the tribe have a potlatch, they caU out the good dancer. We want our guests to see our young men dance." This apparently occurs as a pleasant intermission between the singing of sad songs and weepiug, and is flattering to the guests who are addressed as chUdren of the host moiety. Now that the composer of the song is dead, his surviving nephew wUl sing it in his memory before putting up money at a potlatch, but there wiU probably be no dancing. Another man commented on dancing in a CAki'At: "You have to have a strong back to dance with that. The way they dance, they supposed to imitate a hahbut flopping. That's how come they land on their knees and bend back and almost touch the floor. They bend backwards and forward. The feathers fly aU over. You have to move fast. . . , [The feathers are] chopped down inside the hat [behind the crown of sea hon whiskers and flicker feathers]." This informant believed that this dancing was traditionaUy done on the bench (ta:^^), although he had never seen an old-style house with a bench. "When they dance at a potlatch, he's dancing up there, and aU they can see is that httle 634 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 feather [flicker feathers on the cAki'At?] when he sit down. That's the most important part of the dance, when they sit down, 'Just the feathers on his head they could see' [I missed the Thngit phrase]. That's when he bends down in the dance." I gather that the type of dance performed was the same, even though the figures carved on the headdress varied with the sib. PhotogTaphs (pis. 62, 210-215) show women, httle chUdren, and even Chief Minaman ("Yen-aht-setl") wearing these headdresses, and since the wearer may have a rattle in his hand, I believe that the rattle accompanies this dance. Wooden hats or helmets, surmounted with the totem of the sib, were also used for dancing. "They dance with it, just like cAki'At," said one informant, referring to a Kagwantan KiUerwhale Helmet, reported to have been sold to the "Indian Affairs Office in Juneau." (See pi. 215c.) I believe that this statement refers to the exhibition of the helmet by the hosts at a potlatch, rather than to the type of dance performed by the wearer. For example, at Angoon in southeastern Alaska, a comparable wooden hat, the Beaver Hat of the Decitan, was worn at a potlatch in 1949 by a young woman who danced behind a blanket so that only the hat was visible, moving like a swimming beaver. There are traditional songs (and perhaps dances) that are supposed to accompany the exhibition of each sib heirloom of this kind: hat, helmet, blanket, drum, and so forth. Sometimes the chief himself displays the emblem or calls on his nephew to do so, and sometimes he caUs on his paternal grandchUd. The greater the importance of the object displayed and of its song, the more wealth would be contributed when it was shown, and this in turn enhances the value of the object and the prestige of the sponsor and of the junior who ex- hibits the crest. Even a house screen may have its song, as, for example, one composed by Dry Bay Chief George for the Frog Screen installed in his house in 1909 (1954, 2-2-A, 6-2-A; p. 1164). "From out of the fishtrap wings at the head of the river, the frogs begin to emerge. Inside the wings, in- deed, they make a noise. On account of the visitors [the fish], they make a noise. "Within my reach almost to the beach they came. My last uncle by accident fell in. Already I give up," (Free translation,) The most important exhibitions of crest objects and of young people to be honored apparently took place at the end of the singing, when the chief offered the last group of eight songs, and put up the last and largest amount of wealth, I gather that some of the songs (at this time?) might be about the wealth which was shortly to be given away. Of this type was the song composed by Situk Jim for his potlatch in Bear House. "In some parts they wrap calico around someone who dances, Situk Jim composed the kit [KiUerwhale] Song—'like kit corners up valuable things, like fish,' They sang it at that potlatch. AU the Teq^ca got long ear pieces (guk^'tlen) [and danced to it]. It's a lively song and swaying dance," (MJ) Another spirited song introduced by the Teqwedi chief at the end when he makes his contribution of wealth is the song for the KiUerwhale Drum (p, 632), The words of this song refer to the argument between Raven and ganiik (Petrel?), as to which was the older, an argument in which Raven was defeated (Swanton, 1909, p. 10). The Petrel (ganuk), a bird of the Eagle moiety, is supposed to be addressing Raven, and men- tions the Murrelet (tcit), another Eagle moiety totem, in order to frighten Raven. The somewhat cryptic words of the song are: "Were you born long ago, you Raven? They're teUing a myth about you. You want to be[?] Raven-at-the- head-of-Nass, you Raven. Your Murrelet wUl come ashore." (1954, 5-1-D; 6-1-F; p. 1167.) My informants were not sure about the meaning of these words, which are obviously of far less importance than the tune, which is a lively one, for two or three voices. At the end of each stanza, some of the singers wUl caU out "hiu!" or "wuuuu!" or "h^iui!", perhaps imitating the sound of a killerwhale spouting. Such noises were compared by informants to the sib animal cries which warriors made when entering battle, or which anyone might utter when facing death. When this song was rendered during the potlatch in Shark House in 1910, one of the best Teq'^ca dancers, a woman of 36, and a little Galyix-Kagwantan girl of 10 danced to it, in competition with one another to amuse the guests, since both were Tl'uknaxAdi-chUdren, and therefore joking relatives (p. 487). It was customary to hire a member of the Raven moiety to beat the KiUerwhale Drum, whUe the Teq- wedi men sang and the Teq^ca danced with paddles in their hands. "When they sing this song, everbody get excited. All the people stand up and watch the dance , , . Teq'^ca dance to this song. They all like it, too. They aU want to dance. . , , Everybody laugh and happy. ... A kind of big man, he's the one start that song. , . . After that song finished, then he put up the money. Divide it up then." When the song was ended, the guests were paid. Honoring Individuals An important aspect of the potlatch was to increase the prestige of the host sib and to raise the social IN THREE PARTS THE POTLATCH 635 position of its individual members. For this reason, important persons tried to give as many potlatches as possible (p, 612), "It takes eight feasts [potlatches] to make a chief, . , , When givmg a feast they put a mark [tattoo] on the kid's hand. The father [later corrected to mother's brother] gives the feast. . . , You had eight feasts be- fore you become a princess," "It takes eight feasts to make a prince." These remarks refer to the highest rank and prestige attainable through potlatching, either on one's own behalf or for one's chUdren, nephews and nieces, or grandchUdren, "If his father or uncle give a potlatch, so many potlatches, he's the one they call him 'prince' or 'princess,' , . . Eight is the limit, I think, for just one person," Here, as in so many instances, eight times represents completion and fulfillment because of an analogy with the "eight bones" of the body. Apparently no Yakutat chief or rich man had been able to achieve this record in potlatching, except the semUegendary Xatgawet, but Chief Shakes of WrangeU was mentioned as perhaps the only one who was able to do so, Jim Kardeetoo (1862-1937), chief of the Bear House lineage of the Yakutat Teqwedi, apparently came very close to the fuU number. "It's this way, those big names, it's Indian law—Big name, I can't get it," explained his adopted son. "My father can't get that big name [Xatgawet] untU he buUt his tribe house several times . . . seven times. Every 7 years he tear it down and rebuUd it again and have a potlatch. So he can be a big man and get respect from other tribes. That's the time he got that name Xatgawet. . . , Five or six times he buUt that house; then he got that name." Like the original Xatgawet, the last holder of the name married a K'^ackqwan woman, Tle'an [Jenny], Galyix- Kagwantan's daughter, and is supposed to have acquired the wealth necessary for potlatchuig through the gifts of furs and the hunting privUeges granted by his father-in-law, (This is, I suspect, attributing to the latter the experiences of his predecessor,) Kardeetoo also assumed the other titles of his earlier namesake: 'ContinuaUy Crowding up on Top of One Another' (WuckAkeyAdag^etc), and 'Tears up the Water' (Hini^el'), both of which refer to the behavior of kUlerwhales (MJ and friend). His daughter reported that he had buUt five houses, and for three of the dedicatory potlatches invited people from Dry Bay and southeastern Alaska, An important man would not want too old a house, but after 5 or 6 years would tear it down and rebuUd on the same site. His houses in the Old ViUage were Bear Den House, Shark House, Bear House, and Bear Paw House. His last house was Bear Paw House buUt at Lost River Landing in 1918 (fig. 10, p. 231). SimUarly, the K^'ackqwan chief's title, Yaxodaqet, supposed to be an ancient Atna name from the Copper River, was acquired through major potlatches con- nected -with house buUding. Chief George, who died in 1903, had presumably potlatched several times before assuming it, as did in turn his younger brother, Moses, who potlatched for him in 1905. "After he buUt so many tribe houses, he got that name." On such occasions, the extremely honorable title or name which had been held in abeyance since the death of the last holder would be assumed by his successor. "Sometimes the big ones mention it out themselves, but [for] a smaU one like me, the big one gives out the name. Oh, you get so many names at a potlatch. My grandfather gave me a name every time they gave a potlatch, so they respect me." The many names borne by the leading Yakutat chief, Chief Minaman (1810-90), leader of the Teqwedi at Diyaguna'Et and Khantaak Island, are evident witnesses to his many potlatches (pp. 200-201). A chief sponsoring a potlatch made a special point of giving names to his grandchildren, the chUdren of his son, who were, as likely as not, members of a sib other than his own but in the same moiety. The chief would also give names to his sister's children, and to his sister's daughter's chUdren, the last also counting as "grandchildren." In addition to his actual grand- chUdren, a chief might give a name to anyone who was a sib-chUd of his son, but I suspect that he would select only those of rank to honor in this fashion. Any- one in the host's sib could name a sib-grandchUd when it came his turn to speak. Even a woman, if she were noble and wealthy, might give a name to a "grandchild," presumably to a brother's son's chUd, or to a brother's son's sib-chUd, but I do not know how often this was done. Since the value of the name given depended ultimately upon the wealth contributed when it was announced, the relatives of the rich chief ob"\dously received the most honored names. Probably a poor person would not presume to give a name at all, unless it were one which he had himself received, for there is some uncertain evidence that an old person, who felt that he or she were no longer of much account, might pass on his own "potlatch name" to a younger one, in the hope that the latter could "do something for the tribe" (KDI). There is also some hint that the nephews and nieces of a chief would expect to receive honorable names when their uncle gave a potlatch, while persons of lesser rank would be more likely to get them from paternal "grandfathers" who were members of their own moiety but in another sib. 265-517—72—vol. VII, pt. 2- 636 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 The "grandchildren" who were to receive names stood among the hosts at the front of the house aU through the singing except when their sponsors caUed them forward to announce their names, "Suppose it's my turn to sing song at potlatch, I got one, I do the taUsing, I'm going to caU off any one of my grandchildren, like Mionie Johnson [a woman in another Raven sib, but the sib to which the speaker's grandchildren actually belonged], I call her and she stand on that box [in front of the hosts, facing the guests], and I'm going to talk about her, for her respect, so people will respect," This would indicate that such naming might take place at any time during the period of singing, although I was also told that it occurred "after it's over," pre- sumably when the distribution of wealth was to be made. Very smaU chUdren were not necessarUy present at the potlatch, for one woman said: "I know when my mother and father came in, they wake me up in the morning and told me I got a new name. My sister got a new name, too." "AU Tl'uknaxAdi is grandson of K'^ackqwan, And olden days, every time they have a potlatch, they give them high respect. They stand on a box and the chief talks about them—high respect, and they give them so many names. , , , Minnie Johnson, she's the granddaughter of K'^ackqwan; she's Tl'uknaxAdi . , , so she got so many names from Kwackqwan." They "give her a name to make respect, to buUd her up higher than the other ones, so it couldn't be lower, , , . I don't know how many names she's got." "The chief is always the last one. He calls all his grandchildren. He's speaking all the time, but he's the last one to sing a song. Sometimes he sings about eight songs. Not one—eight," Then he announces the new names of his grandchUdren and puts on them his sib heirlooms, "a ChUkat blanket that used to be his uncle's, beadwork, anything," The informant denied that there was any one type of inherited garment or regalia that was intrinsically worth more than any other kind, which contrasts with southeastern Alaska where crest hats and canes seem to have been most highly prized. As far as I can tell, the honorable names given in this way to "gTandsons" usually refer to the crest of the donor's sib, such as "[Thunder] Makes a Noise Above," and "[Cloud] Holding the Rain," given by the CAnkuqedi to a Teqwedi man, and both associated with the Thunderbird, "Strong Wind," referring to the wind from Mount Saint Elias, was given by a K'^ack- qwan man to his grandson in the same sib. There are other men's names, also referring to totem animals or to natural phenomena used as crests, that are acquired in potlatches, although I do not know who bestows them. These are traditional names, but ones that seem to be kept within the sib; at least this is what my genealogies show and I have no record that they were given to "grandsons" outside the sib. The same is true of some honorable names for women, "Grand- daughters," however, usuaUy receive a name specially coined for a particular potlatch, referring to the grave or to the house that was dedicated or to the potlatch itself. Thus, a Kagwantan woman received the name "Stands Beside It," referrmg to a slave beside a copper, and a Teqwedi woman the name "Facing the Town," referring to a tombstone; both names given by paternal grandfathers in their own sib. Two K'^ackqwan women were named "One Never Tires of Looking at It," and "It Never Decays," the first referring to Whale House in Sitka, and the second to Frog House (location not specified); both names given by their Tl'uknaxAdi grandfathers, A Tl'uknaxAdi woman was named "Visible from the Town," referring to the tombstone of Bear Bit BiUy, the Kwackqwan house chief. Occasionally a man might receive a topical name of this kind, such as "Inside the Town," which had reference to a pUe of tombstones, or a woman might get a name inspired by the crest animal of another sib, such as "Bites the Town," a Thunderbird name given by the head of the Teqwedi Thunder (Thunder- bird) House to a Qalyix-Kagwantan "granddaughter," A father-in-law might also give an honorable name to his daughter-in-law; Dry Bay Chief George named his son's wife, who was also Tl'uknaxAdi, "Not FUled with Boards," an allusion to the Frog Screen which was stiU unfinished at the time of his potlatch in 1909, Honorable names received in potlatches sometimes became the designations by which individuals were usuaUy known, and a number of specially coined names given to "granddaughters" in other sibs have been inherited by their female descendants. The potlatch was also an occasion when young people of the nobUity had their ears pierced and their arms or hands tattooed. Such operations seem only(?) to have been carried out when the uncle or grandfather gave a potlatch, and were always performed by the guuEtkAuayi relatives of the young person, I was not told at exactly what stage of the ceremonies they rendered these services, although it must have been before the distribution of property. As already ex- plained (p. 607), this was done at special potlatches in southeastern Alaska, and the same may have been the case of Yakutat, One informant explained that if he were a rich chief of former days he would give a potlatch for his son's children. He is Kwackqwan, and the chUdren are Tl'uknaxAdi, He would give a big potlatch just for them, inviting many sibs and laying out a good deal of wealth in goods and money. Then the members IN THREE PARTS THE POTLATCH 637 of the opposite moiety would make a pair of holes in the chUdren's ears. At the next potlatch he gave, another pah- of holes would be added, untU the limit of eight holes (m each ear?) was reached at the eighth potlatch. The children would then be "prmces" and "princesses," or 'anyAdi, The chief might do the same for his sister's chUdren, and I have ah-eady mentioned that the nephew or niece of a rich man could also receive honor by danc- ing in a CAki'At, crest hat or helmet, I was also told of a potlatch (p, 467) in which an uncle announced that his niece never quarreled and gave $500 or $600 to the four members of the opposite moiety who had robed her for the potlatch. At the same or on a similar occasion, a slave was freed for an aristocratic woman who never quarreled. Such a method of ennobling is simUar to that employed to wipe out the memory of a disgrace or of a physical defect, as when a slave was freed to forestall any possible derogatory remarks about the relative so honored (p. 473). The chUdren of the hosts, especiaUy of the chief giving the potlatch, were also honored, even though they belonged to the opposite moiety. ChUdren were, of course, much concerned wdth the reputation of their father and of their father's lineage and sib. A chUd's status depended upon the social position of the father, as weU as upon that of the grandparents and maternal kinsmen. ChUdren might shine, therefore, in their father's reflected glory. The father could also contribute to their prestige by assisting his ^vife when she was among the hosts at a potlatch, for a mother was expected to contribute in the names of her small chUdren. "If I got chUdren, for instance R— and E—," said MJ, naming her adopted daughters, "when my turn comes to give away, I have to give away for each one of them in order to stand in for the people who's giving the potlatch," The informal assistance given by the husband to the wife could amount to a considerable sum, as when payment was made for piercing the ears of a chUd, or for tattooing the hand. In fact, the decoration of the child might be the real reason for the potlatch, as was the case of a "party" given in 1921 by a Qalyix- Kagwantan woman to have the ears of her two daugh- ters pierced. Because there were so few members of her sib at Yakutat, the mother assumed the role of a chief at potlatches, and this was why she sponsored this occasion, although it would have been customary for an uncle to have done so. This particular party was held in Far Out House in Yakutat (Tl'uknaxAdi), rented for the occasion because the Galyix-Kagwan- tan's Wolf Bath House in the Old VUlage had already been sold. The choice of Far Out House may also have been a compliment to the girls' father, a Tl'uknaxAdi man. The mother put up $2,000 for this party, and the CAnkuqedi and Teqwedi also made small contributions. The two girls were dressed as "Navy women" (YAuwa-ca), in dresses with middy blouses made by Minnie Johnson, (Tl'uknaxAdi) who was also a skiUed dressmaker. They were seated on two trunks, each containing $500 in goods and cash, whUe the mother spoke about her dead uncles at ControUer Bay, Straw- berry Point, and Kaliakh River, "Not a real potlatch; it's a dance, but they talk like a potlatch." The girls' ears were pierced by old Mrs. Joseph Abraham, Tl'uk- naxAdi, who was paid $30 or $35 for the operation, and each daughter received a pair of diamond earrings worth $98. One of the two daughters confessed that she had been frightened, but the old 'anyAdi woman "fooled around with her ears," whUe her mother ex- plained how high-class they were, and she didn't feel the actual piercing. Each girl was also given a gold pin in the shape of a Beaver, their sib totem, the design for which had been drawn by the K'^ackqwan husband of one of them, and for which he was paid $50. The pins were made by a jeweler in Juneau. These orna- ments were pinned on by a K'^ackqwan woman, Mrs. Annie Johnson, the maternal aunt of this husband, who was also reckoned a "niece" of the young women because she was the daughter of their mother's mother's mother's brother (the chief, 'Axaqudulu, of Beaver House at Okalee Spit, ControUer Bay; see p. 714). I do not know how much this woman received. The mother had also wanted to have the two girls tattooed, but they objected. In some way, not made clear, the father could also ennoble his chUdren by having their ears pierced or their arms tattooed when he himself gave a potlatch. How he managed to pay the operators who were members of his own sib was not explained, so I can only note the foUowing remarks of my informants. Thus, one be- lieved that the Kwackqwan sons of Xatgawet were 'anyAdi because their father had given eight potlatches for them, putting out money for them. She did not know what he had done—"maybe put tattoo on them, like my ears were pierced." Another woman felt that to make his daughter a real 'anyAdi, the father should have his own kinsmen tattoo the girl's arm or hand, and give them eight coppers for this service. "That's caUed uEskaduwucu [8] duda [around her] teyi [stones, i.e., coppers] 'idatiyi [you give to] guuEtkAuayi," The reference to eight coppers is, I believe, quite fanciful. Other informants (CW, etc.) interpreted the phrase as meaning that the potlatching should be done eight times, although the wealth would be caUed 'stones.' The father also paid for having the hole for a labret cut in his daughter's lower lip. This was done when she was an adolescent. For example, MJ said that her mother's labret hole was cut by the latter's paternal aunt, and the girl's father (the operator's brother) 638 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 "paid her a slave right there," The labret was inserted "at a party." The informant's own father wanted to have her mouth cut for a labret, but her mother would not aUow it. Swanton (1908, p. 434; 1909, p. 388) reports that piercings for labrets were not made at ordinary pot- latches, nor at the feast for erecting a grave pole, although the girl's father would give away many blankets when it was done. He gives no further in- formation of this point, and my informants said nothing about it. Probably the occasion was like the "potlatch" or "party" among the Inland Tlingit, which was given by a father to his own kinsmen when his daughter emerged from puberty seclusion, or when his chUd was born. These distributions made the young girl or the baby 'anyAdi (information from Dr. McCleUan), If a practice of this kind had been foUowed at Yaku- tat it would explain how the father could be host to honor his own chUdren, for at an ordinary potlatch it would be incongruous for a Tlingit to hire a member of his own sib to perform a service, even though it were for a chUd in the opposite moiety. However, I suspect that the fiction was devised whereby the payment appeared to come from the chUdren's mother, who would be among the hosts, since there was a way whereby a husband could honor his wife by contributing in her name. Or, if the father were the host, payment may have gone to the spouses of the operators, since this practice was not uncommon when the person to whom the payment was actuaUy due belonged to the wrong moiety to receive it (see below, p. 640). Another way of honoring a person was to display him with the wealth that was to be given away. At Yakutat and Dry Bay, women of the hosts's sib might come out swathed in yards of cotton cloth or calico. "They make you stand up and get wrapped up [in it], and they give it away. But you don't dance in it." (MJ) However, at the Teqwedi potlatch in 1910, some of the people danced swathed in cotton cloth, and one female guest was given a piece of it large enough to make a housedress when it was torn up and given out, Swanton (1908, p, 442) reports that when blankets were being distributed at a potlatch, "... the host brought out his brother-in-law or his chUd and put him on the property before it was distributed. This was to make him high caste, for it would be afterwards said of him that so many blankets 'were lost to see him.' " Obviously to request a guest to perform during the potlatch, for example to beat the drum or to sing, was to honor him, and he also received extra payment. Even more honorable, perhaps, was to display the guest with one's own crest object. The chUdren of Xadanek of Coward House at Situk were distinguished in this fashion at the potlatch given in his memory when Coward House was buUt at the Old Village by his older brother. Jack Shaw-coo-kawn (Ca-kuwakan, 1831-99), and by the latter's son-in-law and nephew, Sitka Ned, "Sitka Ned brought over two of my father's corner posts from Situk—the best he can do to remember my father, . . . [The posts were carved to represent a woman's face, the gAtxan.] We sit on that. They make us sit on that—I and my sister [Mrs. Situk Jim] and my brother [Charley White]. They pay me for sitting on it. . . . [Sitka Ned] put them [the poles] in the house untU the potlatch is over, I don't know what became of it, ... I guess it's buried in my father's grave. . . . I was over there when they fixed my father's grave, too. Charley and I got appointed to finish that job, too, . , . Gee, we got lots of potlatch blankets, money! . . We get paid for sitting on that post. Fancy blankets, and cahcoes, lamps, and everything, they give away at that potlatch. Even got a soft seat and pUlow to sit on when the potlatch is going on, I was married then, I got $75 out of that potlatch, and aU that fancy blankets—all kinds of stuff. Gee, they give away lots of money! " (MJ) Paying the Guests The climax of the potlatch was, of course, the distri- bution of property to the guests. In the period known to my informants this was in the form of money and of goods, the latter including Hudson's Bay Company blankets, cloth, silk kerchiefs, yarn, dishes, and baskets of native manufacture, but fancy blankets were most frequently mentioned and money was stressed. Al- though not part of the wealth used for payment, the hosts would provide so much food that the surplus would be given to the guests to take home afterward. Oranges, canned goods, milk, butter, and crackers were distributed in this fashion at a recent potlatch in Juneau attended by a Yakutat girl. The guests were paid after the last songs proposed by the host chief had been sung. The distribution was made in two installments, or two rounds, hence the 'medicine' used by a guest so that he would be re- warded twice. The first distribution seems to have been exclusively or largely in goods, and the second in money. Thus, at the Teqwedi potlatch for Bear House at Situk in 1905, "They got cahco [and other things] around the fireplace. They give the cahco first and then the money. The second night I had to sit on the floor. I got no sleep. They give away the money. . . . I got $20, fancy blanket, and calico." (MJ) Apparently on this occasion, there was a feast and dancing the first night, the distribution of property on the second IN THREE PARTS THE POTLATCH 639 day, and a dance by the guests at a feast on the third evening, although the informant was so uncomfortable sleeping in the crowded attic that she returned to Yakutat before the feast. When the money was handed out, the first sums went to those who had performed special services: dressing a corpse; attending a wake; cremating the body or making the coffin and digging the grave; making or repairmg a grave house or erecting a grave monument; working on the house, especiaUy on its decorated posts or screen; making other sib regaha; adorning the hosts, tattooing their young people or piercing the latter's ears; performing special feats before the potlatch such as eating to excess, and, during the potlatch, helping the hosts to sing or ren- dering songs of their own on request. Probably no single potlatch involved aU of these services, especiaUy if the occasion for honoring chUdren were not directly associated with the funeral of a chief. Among the guests, the chiefs always received the most. They had usuaUy been speciaUy "commissioned" to carve a house post, to paint a screen, or to work on a grave, and would be paid for such work at rates commen- surate with their rank, even though they had not performed it in person. The widow and chUdren of the principal dead man for whom a potlatch was given were also likely to be weU paid. At the end of these special pajnments, aU the money remaining was divided evenly among the guests, "When they gave out the money, they held it up and announced how much each person had given. They held it up for you." The nakani displaying the money would announce the donor's "potlatch name," the number of doUars contributed, and the name of the deceased person for whom it was given. Thus, he might caU out: " 'AndAxdutin [Visible-from-the- Town] tleqd dAua [$20] Qankida-'ic kade [Father-of-Q towards]" or, to use the deceased's English name and a free translation supplied by the informant: " 'In memory of Conrad Edwards.' Whatever is given his spirit is supposed to get," It was probably at this time that the contributor, if he or she was in debt to some member of the guest moiety, could ask the nakani to pay the latter. The nakani would caU out the pot- latch name of the recipient, who would respond with "Hade—This way!" An informant denied that chiefs were paid first. "It might be anybody. Just like suppose we're giving, I get up there and I'm going to teU he had been working for me some time ago in my sorrow, [when] I lost my sister and mother, and I'm going to pay aU that money. Suppose I take [contributed] about $200. I pay out about seventy-five or a hundred—leave that [the rest] in there [in the general coUection]," When asked what would happen if he couldn't contribute so much, he said: "AU the tribe's going to help. When I'm going to pay off, everybody put up the money,—[Or] if I'm the chief, we put up the money. I standing there. You walk out there and caU nakani, 'I want that much money to pay so-and-so out there,' And he pick it up and mention his name. Then you teU why you pay him. Then someone else—he walk out, teU why you [he?] pay him. Then another one again. That's the way. Some of them spend aU the money [they had put in], , , , You can take out more [than you put in]. That's the tribe's money. If you put in $20 and you owe $100, you take it, [You don't have to warn the chief ahead of time.] They put in so much there's always lots left. , . , Some of them are rich," and so contribute more than enough to cover their obligations and those of their poorer relatives. When I pressed further, proposing the hypothetical case of a poor woman who owed a great deal but could contribute only a little, he went on: "Sometimes it's this way. If I [as chief] put up some, [and] if you're my 'sister,' I caU on you. 'You want to pay something?' I mention [how much she can give??], I ask the woman again [if she owes more?], 'Anybody else want to pay them some?' if this woman's got no money. And it's coming out. They pay it," As he summarized it: "Like E—[who had recently lost a chUd], a bunch of opposite tribe help her, and during the potlatch she has a chance to pay back those who help her, . . . Everybody help [her to pay]. AU the tribe helped. Like her, she's going to pay just a little if she's not rich. But when other tribe's turn comes, they pay a little bit untU they're satisfied." This last may mean either that aU the members of the opposite moiety contribute to the payments she must make at the potlatch, or that she may pay off her debts in installments at subsequent potlatches. When someone has been commissioned to make a house screen or something simUar: "One person take responsibUity for that, to make it for him. He pay the most money, , , , [In this way. Raven Screen in the Kwackqwan Moon House was painted for Cada.] They make it for Cada. , , , He take more responsibihty for it, paid the most money, so Cada is the most respect[ed], but aU the tribe helped, , . . They make it not very long ago, I don't remember what year, [He died about 1908 or 1909?] It's for the whole tribe. That's a big potlatch, that one. [It was painted by] D. S. Benson, Teqwedi, Always the opposite tribe made it. And diu-ing the potlatch they pay him," Often the artist was a close affinal relative of the host and it seems to have been an approved gesture for such a "brother-in-law" to refuse payment for his work, which was performed as a social service for his "sister," This was what was done by YAndus-'ic, 640 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 Tl'uknaxAdi, who carved the smaU Bear Post for the Teqwedi Bear House on BQiantaak Island (p, 319, pi, 89): "My grandmother's [mother's mother's] brother made it for my father, . , , That's expensive stuff, . , , And after, they give a potlatch. My father's family is sup- posed to pay lots of money. , , , He [the carver] raise his hand during the potlatch—You know, long time ago, they wanted to be somebody—He just raise his hand to my father, his kani [brother-in-law], 'I don't want no pay. I done the work for nothing.' . . , He's related to my mother. He said he done it for nothing. He don't charge my father anything. Teqwedi tribe paid him just the same, but he refused my father to pay him." (MJ) The carver was described as "a great man who had a copper knife," and was head of the Boulder House lineage of the Tl'uknaxAdi. At one time he had married the informant's father's "sister," (Mrs. Bessey, 'AndEs-tla, died 1916), and by her was father of Sitka Ned. Even when a chief or important man had not per- formed a special service, he would be paid more than an ordinary guest. "The chief always gets the most aU the time." So when Moses, the K'^ackqwan chief, gave the potlatch in 1905, those who received most were Chief John of the Galyix-Kagwantan, and Naxacane, chief of the Tcicqedi, while among the Teqwedi guests from Yakutat the most important men were Ned Daknaqin, chief of Drum House, and Jim Itinisku (Tanui), chief of Golden Eagle House. In addition, the Teqwedi who had worked on Raven's Bones House where the potlatch was held were paid extra, and these were Sitka Ned, chief of Coward House, and Jim Kardeetoo, Chief of Shark House. (It will be remembered that the last was "out of town" at the time of arrival of the guest, but it is presumed that he returned in time for the potlatch, see p. 620.) I do not know whether Kardeetoo actually did any work on the house, but Sitka Ned was a skUled car- penter, much in demand for house construction. With the deaths of the old craftsmen, there came to be fewer and fewer persons capable of carving and painting. For this reason, it was often necessary to hire an artist from one's own moiety, even though he could not be paid at the potlatch because he would be among the hosts. To avoid this dUemma, payment would be made to the wife, utUizing the "legal fiction" that she had done the work and was a completely distinct economic personality. The same solution was recently adopted when the body of a drowned man was found by a sibmate; the reward of $70 which had been set aside for the funeral potlatch was paid to the finder's wife. "After they pay aU the persons, what's left is given to the ones invited. Sometimes $5 each; sometimes, when they getting short, just $1 [to] everybody." Men and women got the same. It was not necessary to calculate in advance the amounts to be distributed, because so much was contributed that there was always enough. "In olden days they take every cent they got when they giving a potlatch. That's way over what they're going to pay." So the surplus was divided among the guests. "They can't come for nothing." There is also some suggestion from the report of the potlatch given by Dry Bay Chief George that those who came from a distance might receive larger shares than the hometown guests (see p. 645). The informant concluded that the hosts retained "something to live on, I think." He had never heard of a chief who gave potlatches too often, or when his people could not afford it. Not all the wealth put out and distributed by the hosts was actually their own for, as already indicated, husbands helped wives and wives their husbands. Affinal relatives also gave money, and in this way far more wealth was handled and a bigger display was possible than if only the hosts' own cash were available. Inform- ants had never heard of borro^ving money for a potlatch, or of lending money out at interest to get sufficient sums. When asked about such a practice, one informant replied: "Well, they don't do it here. If you go and try to borrow from other people, that goes to show you're no good, you're lazy. You get your own stuff. You never get no credit no matter how much you give, if you borrow it. . . . You wouldn't give a potlatch unless you prepared for it, and you have to give the last you got." (MJ) Assistance from spouses and affinals did not come under the stigma of borrowing, however. "When my side gives a potlatch, my husband is going to give for me. . . . He gives away bolts of cahco [and other things]. My father's famUy paints his face." (MJ) The last remark would suggest that the husband made his contribution in his wife's name, stepping out among the hosts, although there was no clarification on this point. When a woman was \\idowed, the sib brothers of her deceased husband would also contribute for her. "It's her time to put up money. Suppose she puts up $10. Her husband's tribe [sib] stand up and says, 'I give so much for her,' and they aU do that, and put up some money for her. . . , Give it to her right there [in the potlatch]." Of course, this wealth returns to the guests within a few hours. I have no specific reference to assistance given to a woman by the brothers of her husband during the latter's lifetime, but the sib brothers of the wife would give money to their "brother-in-law" to use at a pot- latch. This is illustrated by what occiu-red in 1902, IN THREE PARTS THE POTLATCH 641 when a Qalyix-Kagwantan wife accompanied her Tl'uknaxAdi husband to Sitka, These were T, Max Italio of Sidewise House and his wife, Jean or Jane (cf, p, 326), and the event was the Tl'uknaxAdi ill- fated attempt to display the Frog (pp. 288-291). "My mother, when they have a potlatch in Sitka one time, she has to go down there with my father, AU Tl'uknaxAdi went down there. And hardly any money around. And she help , . . with aU the things she has, because aU her brothers helped her in Sitka, too, AU the [Sitka] Kagwantan just donate so much things to my father so he can use it in a potlatch. That's the only way he can do. She has so much money of her own. Sitka Kagwantan meet together and donate so much property and money, give it to my father . . , just a httle before, few hours before the potlatch. But not in the potlatch." Such assistance to a brother-in-law was given to increase the husband's respect for his wife, the giver's sister (p. 495). I have already cited Swanton's account of how the wife of the host chief who went as nakani to invite the out-of-town guests also collected their contributions (p. 617). POTLATCHING FOR WOLF BATH HOUSE, BOULDER HOUSE, AND FOGGY HOUSE The history of Wolf Bath House (Beaver House) and of Boulder House in the Old ViUage (p. 322), and of the persons associated with them, illustrates a number of ways in which husband and wife might shift sides at a potlatch. It wiU be remembered (pp. 594, 603), that Wolf Bath House was buUt by Ckman, Tl'uknaxAdi, for his Qalyix-Kagwantan wife, Mary, as part of the peace settlement for the accidental death of their son, shot by accident by Ckinan's "nephew," The bereaved mother and her relatives "got good pay, but he [Ckman] doesn't want to get any bad name in our face," explained the latter's niece, "so he built that house for his wife's famUy so they won't talk about what his nephew done," Later, when Mary had a son by Ckinan's younger "brother," this baby was named for his dead half-brother, "to keep the family friendly. Otherwise the Kagwantan would do something bad to us." (MJ) The house was buUt about 1890, I believe. "Her husband give a potlatch over that tribal house buUt for her," MJ said on another occasion. When it was objected that Mary's sib, the Qalyix-Kagwantan, would have to give the potlatch, not Ckman—"That's for his wife. His wife give a potlatch. Well, of course he paid for it. You know what I mean? The whole Kagwantan [gave it]," The informant agreed that all the money put up by the wife actually came from her husband, and added, "Well, they stand together. In them days, you know, they try to beat one another," Mary's husband was already dead when his nephews and niece buUt Boulder House in 1901 (?) next door to Wolf Bath House. The site was chosen because "they already potlatched over the ground," for an earlier house on the site, or in connection with the potlatch for Wolf Bath House(?). At the potlatch given by the Tl'uknaxAdi for Boulder House, Mary freed her hus- band's slaves. She had evidently retained them and other property of her husband after his death, instead of relinquishing it at once to aU his heirs in his own sib. There was some criticism of this, and because she was the one to keep and to free the slaves, they became adopted members of her sib, whereas if her husband's people had done this they would have become Tl'ukna- xAdi. One of the slaves was freed to honor her niece who suffered from curvature of the spine, so no one would feel free to mention this (p. 473). It seems to have been rather unusual for a widow to take her husband's place in this fashion, and one informant had never heard of a simUar case. "Kag- wantan can't do anything to Tt'uknaxAdi's potlatch unless her husband's right there. First time I ever heard of it." The informant conjectured that the recency of the husband's death might have been the deciding factor. (There was a somewhat similar case in 1952, see pp. 546-547, 610.) The woman who had been honored at the Boulder House potlatch said: "He's gone, and she's got as much right to do that as her husband does. That belonged to them [that is, the slaves belonged to his family], , , , She wants to show off, too, you know, that her and her husband is weU-to-do. . , , She wants to show off the respect of people that she's been with. She's high-class woman, too. Her father got lots of slaves and aU that. She's showing off because she thinks so much of her husband, and because we were her husband's famUy. , , , That's why that Qu'ya' [Mary] got her heart open up, because she think of her husband. We're the only ones left out of that family. . . . Her husband give a potlatch over that tribal house built for her. I guess she done that in return." (MJ) I was unable to discover whether there was a special term or phrase for a widow's taking her dead husband's place at a potlatch. The first owner of Wolf Bath House is unknown, but in the period 1905-10 it was Yakategy John who had the old house replaced by a new frame structure and the Beaver Screen instaUed. This was painted by D. S. Benson, a Teqwedi man, then about 35 or 40 years old, in return for permission to marry Annie, John's adopted daughter, a K^'ackqwan girl of 16. Benson was asked to make the screen because he was a good artist. (See pi. 85.) 642 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 " 'Could we make a deal,' he ask Yakategy John. 'I want to marry that girl you have. . . . Then you pay me just half-money, I want to marry that girl.' Yakategy John said, 'That's fine. And \vith that cash money in the potlatch, I'm going to pay your wife,' that is, pay for the screen by pretending that the girl was the painter, since Benson as a member of the host moiety could not be paid at the potlatch. This was what was done, and Mrs. Benson received about $200. My informant (HB) did not know what year this happened, but then or in 1910, "I know my mother was dressed up like a man, because there's hardly any [in the sib] left now. And my mother was rich, and my dad [Max Italio, Tl'uknaxAdi] give her every bit of money [that he had]. And she was head of that potlatch." My informant had forgotten the special term for such an arrangement with a woman as potlatching chief. "I only know she was head of that potlatch. She's doing the talking." In this manner, too, the husband returned to his wife the financial assistance which she and her "brothers" had given him at the potlatch iu Sitka in 1902 (p. 641); and again he helped his wife when their daughters' ears were pierced (p. 637), This woman was not the only one to act as a chief, however, for Mrs. Sitka Ned (Lqawagalsisx, 'Never Get Tired Looking at It,' died 1926) also did so. She was the K'^ackqwan daughter of Jack Shaw-coo-kawn (Ca-kuwakan), chief of Teqwedi Bear House on Khantaak Island for a time, and later of Coward House at the Old ViUage, which Sitka Ned inherited after his father-in-law's death in 1899. The wife was described as "a big respectable woman. . , , She acts like a big man, danced beside her brothers in a pot- latch. . . . She didn't dress like a man," A photograph of her as a young woman in a high-necked long-sleeved white blouse and checked skirt showed her hair parted in the middle, combed down straight and cut short around her face "She gave a potlatch herself." This was for Foggy House, buUt directly behind her hus- band's Coward House, and erected just for the sake of giving a potlatch, for no one ever lived in it, "She just put property in there." Feastitig and Dancing After the Potlatch We have now followed the potlatch to its conclusion, when the last money has been distributed and everyone has retired for a much needed rest. The next day the guests would be invited for a feast. "Potlatch is for sorrow, death. Afterwards it's just to make happy. The other tribe [guests] come to make you happy, to forget aU your troubles. You're going to have a lot of fun. That's the way. . . . After the potlatch is over, about a day afterwards, feast. When the feast is going on the ones invited always dancing all the time. They have special songs for it when they're eating ["sitting down songs"]. Sometimes they don't get up and dance, just sit down and dance. But they always sing songs when they're eating." The guests were invited by the nakani, and danced into the house using one of the "walking songs." They were dressed in ceremonial attire. The seating was the same as it had been for the potlatch itself. Although sib-children were sometimes seated together so that they could enliven the feast with their jokes, I was unable to determine at what time during the potlatch cycle this might be done. The custom was rather common in southeastern Alaska but seems to have been much rarer at Yakutat. After the feast, either that night or the next, began 4 nights of singing and dancing by the guests in order to thank their hosts. On the first and last night they usually danced in the house of the principal host chief where the main potlatch had been held, but on the other nights they danced in different houses of their host sib "for respect." Such dances were preceded by feasts given by the house owners. Infor- mants stressed these dances rather than those before the potlatch, although they seem to have been of the same kind. That is, the two rival groups of guests danced against each other in their finest costumes, using their dancing songs of foreign origin, and also sang the peace songs composed to each other's sib- children. They took turns in dancing; sometimes both danced on the same night, one dancing first one night and the other coming first on the next. Or, sometimes only one group danced on the first and third nights, while the other danced alone on the second and fourth nights. All of the guests—men, women and little children—took part. For these performances one side of the house was cleared for the dancers, while the hosts and the other group of guests crowded into the other side to watch. Between dances, the host and guest chiefs exchanged complimentary speeches, just as they had been doing all through the previous ceremonies. I was unable to discover whether any special dances or shows were given at this time, or whether such dramatic acts were given before the potlatch, as Swan- ton has reported (1808, pp. 439-441; 1909, pp. 374-389), When speaking of the guests' songs and dances, infor- mants emphasized the party or parties following the distribution of property. It is possible that the custo- mary order of events differed somewhat between south- eastern Alaska and Yakutat, especiaUy since the Copper River Eyak and the Indians of ControUer Bay made IN THREE PARTS THE POTLATCH 643 much more of the dances and stunts given on the days after the potlatch. There, the guests put on animal masquerades in masks, did funny dances, and had dancing contests, whUe only a feast was mentioned before the potlatch (Birket-Smith and de Laguna, 1938, pp, 173, 181-182), However, the shortening of the whole potlatch sequence and the simplification of the ceremony in modern times may have resulted in shift- ing the emphasis at Yakutat from prepotlatch to the postpotlatch dancing. 'POTLATCHES" FOR INSULTS OR TO SHAME A RIVAL It was almost impossible to discover whether pot- latches were ever given at Yakutat to shame an oppo- nent or to wipe out an insult, for the information ehcited was confused and seemed to refer to contests in throwing away or destroying wealth, or else to the payment of damages, WhUe "parties" were sometimes involved, I do not know whether these should be caUed "potlatches," Such occurrences were very rare, for most informants when questioned remembered nothing about them untU they had searched their memories or an incident had been suggested. One man was correct, I believe, in denying that a chief might try to ruin a rival by overwhelming him with property in a potlatch. A property contest would occur, but "that would be a gamble, though—'Alqd ['gambling game'], they caU it," and he went on to teU a story about a gambler who boasted of the wealth he was going to wager, but was laughed to scorn when the property he brought out was worthless (p. 894), The informant had never heard of a potlatch conducted in this spirit, "It's because they never know what the other person got, and U they get beat it's shameful, and the other tribe just look down on them. It spoUs their reputation that they tried so hard to buUd up," When property destruction contests, involving canoes or coppers, were suggested, he thought that they might occur if two men were very angry at each other. Then one man might break up his canoe, "then the other feUow might break up one. If he don't, then they beat him. Anyway, they just get mad about something , . , I think that thing happens just very seldom, not aU the time. But I do know they do such a thmg as that, [because] they caU it: wuct :^ada yuduli'Atk—'to put [move] it around each other's mouths' [trying to sUence each other]," Swanton (1909, Tale 26, p. 63) recorded a story in which a man from Yakutat named Ka'yeswusA't was beaten in a property contest with the L'enedi chief of Cal-nu, Fish Trap Fort of the YAxtE-hittan [Great Dipper House lineage] of Awk, The Yakutat man ran out of of coppers and tried to substitute cedar bark weighted with stones, which he threw into the water. "They chased him out with riches, and told him to come back again with more property," (Ibid,, Song 43 refers to this.) There was some disagreement among informants as to whether contests in the destruction of property occurred exclusively between members of the same sib or moiety, or whether they could also involve indi- viduals in opposite moieties, WhUe the rivals were most likely to belong to the same side, there was a case at Yakutat about 1896 that involved a Tl'uknaxAdi man and a Teqwedi man. The foUowing account has been pieced together from statements made by the same informant on three different occasions: The head(?) of the Tl'uknaxAdi Whale House m Sitka, a man named Nakitlan, had come up to Yakutat to attend a potlatch and to visit his mfe's relatives. He was married to Sitka Ned's mother, "Mrs, Bessey," 'AndEs-tla, the widow of his uncle. He and his wife were staying in Shark House in the Old ViUage, where Sitka Ned was living at the time. Also visiting there was Situk X—,Teqwedi, then evidently a very young man. The two men began drinking and gambling, and in the ensuing quarrel Nakitlan was insulting his "brother-in- law." He wanted to show that he could put the other down because he knew that Situk X— was poor. So he was throwing money and blankets away, right out of Shark House, The informant (MJ), who had then neared the end of her puberty confinement in Drum House next door, was being carried down to the canoe for the trip to her parents' fishcamp, when the quarrel began. In deference to the taboo (see p, 522), the little girl was wrapped up in a blanket, but she peeked out. "I'm anxious to see it, I just peek out of the cover. He was throwing things away, right outside. . . , Blankets, gee, good blankets, too! He's got Situk X— stuck there. I see that man there [Nakitlan]. He's just holding the corner of that big gray blanket. 'Come, come, come on!' he say hke that, . , , I didn't see aU he had. Some of it was piled behind a stump. , , , They took me to the lake [the fishcamp at Aka] and I don't know 644 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 how that come out. That's a wonderful thing! Maybe somebody feel good over it, and somebody poor picked them up. . , , Anybody can pick it up, that's thrown out of his hands. [None of the Tl'uknaxAdi could take any of the money or blankets, because it was a sib- mate who thi^ew his property away.] Throw money away to keep the other person's mouth shut, so he wouldn't quarrel with him. They call it: wuct :^ada yuduli'At. See, just to keep Situk X's mouth shut. He can't give much." Later, some "well respected people" (not specified) invited Nakitlan and Situk X to a party, to make them friends. Apparently, just members "of the family" were invited to the party. Either at this party, or at a later one (my informant was not clear), "they [the former rivals?] have to pay them [the peacemakers?] for working that way for them." Possibly it was Nakitlan who gave the second party, for "he's a weU- to-do man, that Nakitlan. My mother's in that famUy, got to contribute stuff, help him out with it. Or else he feels like he's going to be thrown out of the family," Possibly what is meant is a real peace ceremony, with both Teqwedi and Tl'uknaxAdi contributing the food and ceremonial garments necessary to entertain the 'deer' taken from the other side. This last seems un- likely, for MJ would certainly have known more about such an impressive affair and told me about it. The only other case of a simUar nature occurred in Juneau, apparently involving two women of the same sib. "She had a party, she put up $200, this lady, Mrs. X. She had a big trouble with her sister's daughter. They had a big fight, right on the road. And she had a party in her house. She put up $200." This money was given to the Eagle-Wolf moiety, specificaUy to the Wuckitan, the sib to which the donor's husband belonged, explained my informant. Another woman added: "That's what they call ctat ±a. wuduligu^—'wiping [li-gu^] the other person's sweat [spit?] off your mouth' mth it, just to keep it shut. . , , That's when you throw things away, mean- ing you wipe the mouth away from the body, because she bawl you out, and just to keep your mouth shut, and you wipe that stuff." (MJ) The phrase is reflexive and probably means 'to wipe it away from one's own mouth.' Although I did not learn exactly what would happen, a distribution of property might take place after an injury. This was mentioned as equivalent to giving a potlatch because one felt insulted. Thus, if a man received a cut on the face, even by accident, he was supposed to spread property among the people. If a member of the "opposite tribe" were responsible, "they're the ones supposed to get together and give it to him, and he can't keep it for himself, he has to spread it out among his cwm people. . . , They just get together and they get the money and they turn it over to him. They just watch, and he's supposed to split it among them, his own tribe. He just does it and afterwards they have a potlatch." The distribution of property made by the injured man to his own sibmates is caUed ctat 'At kawuyAh^el—"he tore something off himself," This wealth would, of course, go back to the opposite moiety at a potlatch given by the prior recipients: "And when they make a party, just like they turn everything back again," What was never made clear was what would be done U the injury had been caused by a member of one's own moiety or sib, unless we can take the Juneau case cited above as a guide. The informant's remarks sug- gest that in any case of serious injury, felt as insulting, there would have to be a property distribution to the relatives—"The one that got a cut, he's the one sup- posed to pay"—and that there would also be a pot- latch or distribution to the opposite moiety. Unfortunately it was possible to learn very httle about payment of damages to members of the same moiety or sib. Every case of injury was interpreted, if it could possibly be so manipulated, to fix responsi- bility upon a member of the opposite moiety. It is also unclear whether the "party" or "potlatch" mentioned was a special one. More likely, it was simply at the next ordinary potlatch that the property re- ceived was redistributed, probably A\ith a reference to the injury which was now to be forgotten, in much the same way that the slave was given at the Boulder House potlatch to prevent any mention of a physical defect (see p, 641). REPORTS OF POTLATCHES The Tl'uknaxAdi Potlatch in Dry Bay, 1909 [The following account of the potlatch given by Dry Bay Chief George has been edited for easier reading. The narrator was a Tl'uknaxAdi woman, the host's daughter-in-law and paternal "granddaughter," AG; July 7, 1952, September 8, 1952, March 9, 1954.] IN THREE PARTS THE POTLATCH 645 I was down in Dry Bay in 1909 with my last husband, the same year they buUt the last Frog House, My husband's father buUt it, Qawusa or Qusun, They caUed it Dekina hit [Far Out (People's) House] and Xixtc hit [Frog House], They invited the Yakutat Teqwedi to Dry Bay for the potlatch, just the Teqwedi, but some Kagwantan came too. My husband, and Frank Itaho, and Earnest (Dry Bay) Francis, Sr. [aU CAnkuqedi sons of Dry Bay Chief George], were sent up to Yakutat to invite them. The chief of the Teqwedi was Jim Kardeetoo. They invited them to Dry Bay in the wintertime, and only the men came down because it was too hard for the women. [Among] those who came were Ned Daknaqin [head of Drum House], and his nephews, Joseph, Martin, and Olaf Abraham, my sAui [paternal uncles]; Situk Jim [head of Bear House at Situk] and his younger brother, Situk Harry; Daniel S. Benson, B. B. WUliams [son of the Kwackqwan head of Fort House, Bear Bit BUly], Teet or WiUiam MUton and his younger brother Nick MUton. They were the ones who came. They stayed in Dekina hit, the house to which they were invited. Thunder House (xetl hit) was fiUed with Dry Bay people [pre- sumably the CAnkuqedi guests, for this was their sib house]. I was in Thunder House [my husband's home]. It was 4 months before my baby was born, so I didn't have to help much to get the potlatch ready. When the people came from Yakutat, it was about seven in the evening. They were on snowshoes. My husband [as nakani] came first, and told his father they were coming, so they would have everything ready in the house. Three Tluk'^axAdi [and Tl'uknaxAdi] men went out: Qusun [Dry Bay Chief George], Qadjaqi-'ic [Dry Bay Jack, Sr., his son-in-law], and Yelkida [Dry Bay Charley]. They went down the traU [to welcome the guests]. That night that they came in, there was a party but no dance. They were cold and didn't do anything. Next day they danced and had a party again. I went in there to help just a little, I had to pass dishes in the evening. The CAnkuqedi of Dry Bay and the Teqwedi of Yakutat aU sat at the table. The Tluk^axAdi [and Tl'uknaxAdi] fed them. They fed them things they had put up themselves: mountain sheep meat and berries, dried fish in seal grease, dried king salmon, Qu^un's wife, Tusdex [the younger wife of the chief], could help with the food because her husband invited the people. She was in charge of the food [as nakani], and all the Tluk^'axAdi ladies helped her. One year before that, four Japanese men drifted ashore in a smaU boat. They brought the Japanese men to Yakutat after 2 months of bad weather. Then at that time when they gave a party there in Dry Bay, they cut the Tl'uknaca's hair, just like the Japanese they saved on the beach. Maybe they thought that at the party before the potlatch they would talk about how the Tl'uknaca are Japanese women, Qusun made a speech whUe they were eating. Then the Japanese women were coming in. They wore Japanese hats and kimonos. They just came in after Qu^un sent for them. They didn't cut my hair. My husband didn't want it. Then when they had the potlatch, they put out $900 to the Teqwedi men. That's Qusun's own money. And the other Tl'uknaxAdi put out some more. Qusun mentioned out the dead 'ixt name—Qawusa and Qusun. He took both names from his grandfather [the dead shaman ('ixt')]. And then they had lots of baskets about. The baskets had a handle. They strung them in lines in the big house, [A sketch shows that the two lines ran diagonaUy across the ceUing from corner to corner,] And after the Tl'uknaxAdi sang a song, they took the baskets down and gave them to Teqwedi—^lots of them, maybe 60! They were aU small size, I made four, Qusun's daughter made some, and gave them to him because Qusun's mother used to make baskets. They were aU the same style. We weave it for buckets long ago, just baskets then. [See pi. 130.] The CAnkuqedi and the Teqwedi danced. Benson (CEqA-'ic) is the ci sati [song leader], and Joseph [Abraham, also Teqwedi] is the other. [She did not mention the CAnkuqedi song leaders.] The Tl'uknaxAdi just had Qu^un for a song leader. The second time he had $300 all in gold pieces. And he gave it out to the Teqwedi, And they caUed that gold "tl'uk" [coho salmon], "Here's a piece of tl'uk. Cut it up! Cut it up!" The nakani carried it around. Before he started to hand out the gold to the Teqwedi, he sent after the Japanese women. They aU came in. They had cut their hair just like the Japanese. And they went in, and I went in. I stood by the door. The CAnkuqedi and the Teqwedi are in the back [of the house]. The CAnkuqedi got some gold—^just the old ones. Those who had a hard time to walk to Dry Bay [the Yakutat Teqwedi?] got the most money. The Teqwedi clapped when the women came in. Some of the Dry Bay women cut their hair like that for a long time. Next day, one day after that, we had a party again. They didn't give out anything. Two days afterwards they started to go home to Yakutat. [Because the narrator was the paternal granddaughter of Dry Bay Chief George's older brother, she was, therefore, "granddaughter" to the chief and received from him a name at the potlatch. He named her LAuuwudaqat, "It's not filled up with boards, just one board is missing," referring to the Frog Screen in 646 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 parently the women carried saplings as mourners' 191 the house which Situk Jim had painted but which was not finished at the time of the potlatch.] I am granddaughter of Tl'uknaxAdi. . . . That's when I got my name. They named their grandchUdren after what happened when they were buUdiug that house. Other grandchUdren got names then. They had blankets all pUed up. [Connected with the buUding of the house and the potlatch, was the making of a grave house on a point across from the new house, to which the bones of six shamans were transferred from the Akwe River. Presumably the names which Dry Bay Chief George assumed at this potlatch were those of one of these shamans, his Tluk'^axAdi grandfather. The narrator did not indicate when the work on the gTave house was done, but I assume that it was performed by the Dry Bay CAnkuqedi before the potlatch was given.] He buUt a smaU house caUed 'ixt' qadakedi [shaman's grave house], because the old shamans were over at Gusex [the abandoned town on Akwe River]. And they brought the bones over to where they buUt the house, so that if anything happened to Qusun, he was going to do the work for the last. [The meaning is obscure. Does it suggest that Qusun anticipated receiving the shamanistic caU?] A !]^at'kA'ayi 'ixt and a Tluk'^axAdi one—maybe six 'ixt' died at Akwe right below Gusex—they dug the bones up and put them all together at Dry Bay, And that's the time he invited Yakutat, and buUt Xixtc hit [Frog House] and Dekina hit [Far Out House] at the same time. My husband start. They had a long stick to walk with, just a tree. They caU it gAxni. It's right after they buUt that shamans' house. They caU the women that—gAxni, I don't know what it means, ['Mourner'— cf, p. 536,] They all went in a single line, Lqena-tla [Mrs, Blind Dave Dick, Tl'uknaca] is the head of us. They do it in the snow for 8 days. It takes 4 days to finish the 'ixt'. [That is, to finish the new grave house and transfer the bones. This work was done by the CAnkuqedi, led by the informant's husband.] When they put it [the bones] away, they have to have 4 days to get over it. That's the time I'm not coming back to Dry Bay! [She was so miserable she determined never to return.] That time when they worked on those shamans, when they buUt the house the Tluk'^axAdi women have to get up at 4 in the morning, and walk way out, about 1 mile. And they wore button blankets—they must use that. And they have to walk way out the uiside way [Athabaskan fashion?]. And they have to come back before the yel [raven] makes a noise. They have to \vish out there. They can't talk, they just walk. [Ap- canes. My husband didn't want me to do it. I just watched them. They walked under little trees, [Was this so snow could faU on them, symbolic of riches?] AU the Tluk'^axAdi couldn't eat for 4 days. I couldn't eat. I would eat in the evening but not in the morning. I couldn't drink any water. I must just stay stUl. The CAnkuqedi couldn't drink or eat, either, because they were working [on the grave house]. My husband got angry because I didn't eat and I was carrying a baby. One night I went to the old lady next door. She stayed in her cabin. She had no water in her house, I took snow in a pot and tried to make water [by melting it]. And she took it away—because the snow feU on the 'ixt' [shamans] and it will make you sick if you drink it. Two days after—no, the same one, maybe—some- thing happened. I don't know what. It's just like I'm dizzy and I pretty near faU down on the floor. Because someone is to be 'ixt' after that [become a shaman]. But I had a baby, I don't want to faU down. They wanted us to dance right in there when they were fixing the grave and sing the 'ixt' song. And I feel dizzy and pretty near faU down. I got on a chair in time. Si-gege ['Stingy Daughter,' Mrs. Dry Bay Francis, Tluk^axAdi] got it [the shaman's spirit]. She died from it because she didn't want it. I think that's how it is that my first son teUs me anything that's going to happen, I watch him some- times now. If anyone is going to die he always tells me about it, , . . [This was the baby she was carrying at the time.] The men have to stay clean, too. They went out like us, and without anything to eat. Gutcda ['Wolf-Weasel,' a famous Tluk^axAdi shaman] is one 'ixt'. He is there, too. When they start to sing those 'ixt' songs, that lady, Si-gege, felt it [the spu-it], and feU on the floor. But she don't want to be 'ixt' and she died 4 months after. [See p, 719, for an account of a young man who re- fused the call he had received on the same occasion.] The Teqv^edi Potlatch in Yakutat, 1910 [The narrator is the same as for the previous account,] It was in 1910, that time; and one year before that. " This ceremony is evidently a repetition of what would be done at the funeral of any important person (cf. Swanton, 1908, p. 430), IN THREE PARTS THE POTLATCH 647 in 1909, they invited the Yakutat Teqwedi to Dry Bay. . . . I came to Yakutat in 1911 [i,e,, 1910] as song leader, I pretty near kUled myself. It was m the faU tune. The Teqwedi from Yakutat invited us Tl'uknaxAdi from Dry Bay. They buUt Tus hit [Shark House], and Gau hit [Drum House], and GAtxan hit [Coward House]—three new houses in the Old VUlage, [These were new buUdings on the sites of older structures.] The Teqwedi sent theu- nakani to Dry Bay after the Tl'uknaxAdi: Charley White, Young George, and George Martha, [See p, 617,] They didn't bring any special costume with them. They came down to Italio River and stayed one night and then went on to Dry Bay. They waited for us in Dry Bay, because the women were going to come with the kids. That's why they waited on account of the bad weather. It was right after fishing in the faU. The snow was on the ground. Then aU the Dry Bay people who were invited came back with them to Italio River, We were sta3dng there in a smokehouse. Qawusa [Dry Bay Chief George] owned it. His tribal house, Xixtc hit [Frog House] was in Dry Bay. We were just staying in that smokehouse for drying fish, and sometimes spend the winter [there]. When they aU came back from Dry Bay to Italio River, the same night, aU those people wanted to give a party for Young George and Charley White [and George Martin]. They gave a party and they danced aU night. Two days afterwards we started for Situk. It was weather like this—raining, and the wind blows. It was cold—^rain, wind. We camped from Italio River two times, I think. We camped out at Dangerous River, and then next day we came to Situk, We came to Dangerous River and made a fire there and we tried to warm ourselves. We were going in canoes, and they had to take the canoes to Arhnklin River on their shoiUders, whUe we warmed ourselves and put up a tent. Any place that we stopped, we could sing and dance, to practice. There were just two women and some chUdren left behind at Italio River, There were three canoes fuU of people who were coming to the party. They were White men's canoes. One of them was a great big one.^^ [The narrator listed about 11 or 12 male guests and 7 female guests, Tl'uknaxAdi, Tluk'^axAdi, and Xat- kA'ayi. There were also about five CAnkuqedi wo- men, wives of the male guests, and about four CAnkuqedi men accompanying theu* wives. Dry Bay Chief George was the leader of the guests—"the head man of Dry Bay, lingit-tlen ('big man'),"] We left Dangerous River at 4 or 5 o'clock in the evening, and got into Situk at 11 that night. It was sure bad weather that night! They thought it would take only 2 hours to get into Situk, but it took a long time before we got there. Before we got to Situk it started to get dark, and the wind blew and it was raioing. We were saUing and there were lots of people in the boat. I was sitting down and my husband was standing beside me and watching. He said he thought he was going to catch me if any- thing happened. When we got to Situk, they took us up to GAtxan hit [Coward House], Situk Jim's house. It was just a new buUding at that time. They had already finished the potlatch for that GAtxan hit at Situk. They took us there. AU the Teqwedi from there had gone to Yakutat for the potlatch, Situk Jim was in Yakutat, but people stayed in his house to take care of us. There were two men, [She did not remember who they were,] They had everything just hke a party. And when we came in, we were aU wet. We started to sing after we got warm, I took care of my baby and the others sang. It's none of my business what they do. We stayed there untU the next day. But those three men left us. Charley White and Young George [and George Martin] walked back to Yakutat. They didn't stay for the party. They told the people in Yakutat that we were in Situk, They left lots of things to eat for us there. They left us just as soon as we got there. The next morning, they came back on a handcar [on the railroad]. They used four push-cars between two handcars [to take the guests to Yakutat],^^ We stayed with my grandfather on my mother's side, Da-tlen ['Big Weasel,' Charley Benson, 1857- 1933, probably a maternal greatuncle]. He's not my real grandfather, he's Tl'uknaxAdi from Yakutat, and he stays at Sitka a lot, but he came up here. The Teqwedi didn't take us in. We just looked after ourselves. We had nothing ready if they had taken us in [i.e., were not prepared to dance]. We were in Charley Benson's house that day, and we talked about who was going to be song leader. They let me go out of the house when they talked about it, about who's going to be the leader for the songs, [In one version, the narrator said that Charley Benson proposed a woman "on the K^'ackqwan side," as song leader. This seems quite unreasonable, since the Tl'uknaxAdi from Dry Bay were to dance against 62 These "canoes" were probably long, narrow, shallow plank river boats, see p, 345, "3 Several of the more wealthy Tlingit owned handcars on the railroad at this time. 648 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 the Yakutat K^'ackqwan, The narrator corrected this statement the next day.] Da-tlen just mention her name. But that lady didn't want to do it. She had a smaU baby, and her husband wasn't there, [Then?] they talked about my cousin, QutkBudutin, Mrs, Frank Itaho [the wife of the informant's husband's brother]. She was bashful, couldn't say anything in pubhc, couldn't talk loud. She was too bashful. She could dance, but she couldn't sing. Then when I came in the house with my husband, that Mrs, Charley Benson was standing up, and she caUed me right to the chair where she was sitting, and she talked to me. I didn't know her husband was going to take my name. She stood up and said, "You're going to be the leader of the song." My goodness! I said I didn't want to. I didn't want to let my baby go, let somebody else take care of him. And I said "No!" And she said, "You can't get away from it, because you're married to Tl'uknaxAdi's son." And I said, "No, I'm not going to do it," But I couldn't get away with it—talk, talk, talk! When they elected me for a song leader, it was tough, I couldn't go to sleep in the night, I used to sing different kinds of songs a lot when I was a young woman, but when you're a song leader, it's different— right in front of all those people in the house! I knew all the songs when I was chosen. I was right there when they were ready. Pretty soon they gave me a shirt, and a Devilfish totem pole [song paddle]. It was a long one, pretty. Like the one I had that you see [the model photo- graphed in 1952; pi, 163], Made just the same. That big one had the little lady inside [the arms of the devUfish]. It wasn't heavy. They used a ribbon around my neck to hold it up. It was a white shirt with beads on it—just a design [not a crest]. It was a Gunana shirt [Athabaskan]. Then when we were going to start to dance, two men would fix me up. The men were Sitka Charley [XasAgu of Whale House, Sitka] and Yelkida [Dry Bay Charley], They were both Tl'uknaxAdi. They put red and black paint on my face. And they put an eagle feather in the middle of my head—just one. No, I didn't wear CAki'At, They tried to cheer me up. They always came when I'm going to dance. Gee, I'm scared! My husband stood right behind me aU the time where we were dancing. We were just married, just had our first baby. I didn't think they were going to take me that way. He was 17 and I was 27, They had two men and one woman song leader from each tribe. The song leaders for us that time were John WUliams, Sr., ^u-x^atc, Tluk'^axAdi, and a man from Sitka called Ctuwus or QacdAxtE [probably Fred George]. He is Xat'kA'ayi, but that's the same as Tl'uknaxAdi. His father was born here in Yakutat. He came up here sometimes from Sitka. The :^at'kA'ayi and the Tl'uknaxAdi and the Tluk^axAdi aU came and aU danced together and aU stayed together. The Tl'uknaxAdi of Yakutat danced with those from Dry Bay. From that tune I never see my baby for 1 week! He was 6 months old. My aunty took him away—that is, my father's sister, Olaf Abraham's sister, that used to be Charley White's Avife [Jenny Abraham, Teq'^ca, 1874-1918], She took care of him, I sent my husband after him, but my aunty says he's aU right. He drinks no mUk, but he eats. The only time they brought him to me was in the party. He didn't cry much when he was smaU. The baby's name is Tom. I didn't have to stand up when we go in canoes, but the older people got up and said something. The K'^ackqwan were dancing on the shore at the Old VUlage and they had a song leader woman. She's my cousin, Dasdiya [Nora George, Mrs. WUliam MUton, died 1931]. And they had two men song leaders, Danuq-'ic, and Young George (Yanukt-lAtsin). They were doing a Copper River dance. After they got through dancing, they went home, and the Teqwedi took us to Tus hit [Shark House]. Our old persons talked to the Teqwedi before we got out of the canoes. Qawusa is our head. He talked in the front of the canoe. Kardeetoo [chief of Shark House] talked for the Teqwedi on the beach. Then we went into Shark House, The Teqwedi took us in and they packed [carried in] all our things. When we went into Shark House they gave us some- thing to eat, just a lunch. I don't have to [wasn't supposed to] eat, and those two men [song leaders] don't have to eat, because we had dope ["medicine"], I don't know anything about it. They made it in Italio River, Qawusa made it. Those two men used it. I don't know about it. But it always goes like that: the song leaders don't eat for one day. I kept it in my mouth when they are having a potlatch. It didn't seem to taste, I don't know what it was. When I first got that dope, I wasn't supposed to eat. That dope is so I wouldn't make a mistake when I dance. The K'^ackqwan wUl laugh if I make a mistake when I dance. If our tribe laughs at the other one, at their mistake, then the hosts bring out their blankets— all kinds of stuff, cAki'At, The Teqwedi stand right between the K'^ackqwan and the Tl'uknaxAdi, and they talk to them and make peace. The K'^ackqwan would laugh at me if I made a mistake. But they made lots of mistakes that time. But we never paid attention to it. There was a song leader for each [song?]. I started the one song. My husband stood behind me and told IN THREE PARTS THE POTLATCH 649 me what I forget. In Shark House I led the song once, right after the potlatch when we were dancing. . . , After we danced, aU the dances were one night [i,e., those of the Tl'uknaxAdi]; next day, they, the Kwack- qwan, did aU the dancing. In the party we were dancing after they got through. And then we stood up. Their song leaders made mistakes two times. Then John WiUiams, the song leader on our side, said to these boys, "Get up and make fun of that man. He sang the same song two times!" I told hun not to do that, and they didn't. If they started to fight, I knew he was going to jump out of the window! He was sitting next to us. And they didn't. Sometimes they have a war. And that Qusun [Dry Bay Chief George] made songs for K'^ackqwan-yAtxi [K'^ackqwan-chUdren], because they invited us with the Kwackqwan, And they, on the K'^ackqwan side, made songs for Tl'uknaxAdi-yAtxi, We sing it up here in Yakutat. We sing it [stiU?]. [The song composed by Dry Bay Chief George is addressed to Ginexqwan-chUdren; 1954, 1-1-B; p. 1244.] The next morning [after the first night in Shark House], we had to sit up about 4 o'clock in the morning and sing. Everybody had to sing. I had to sit up before everybody. Those two men woke me up, and sometimes my husband did. And when I started to sing, everybody did. Only just the song leaders sit up. The other people sang when they were asleep. Some just dreamed about it, maybe. We started singing before the crow caUs, Then we all got up after we sang for about half an hour. We did this the first 4 days in Shark House. After 4 days we sang any time we wanted. Sometimes I didn't want to sing. I made my husband do it. When he started, they sang just the same. We sang dancing songs, special dancing songs for Dry Bay, and Gunana songs from ChUkat. I had to go to my mother's to eat—just me, just the ones who belong to Yakutat. [This would have been the Teqwedi Thunderbird House of Joseph Abraham, the narrator's father.] My mother and my sisters and my brothers are there. When I came back from Dry Bay they wanted to see my baby. They didn't even know I had the baby. My husband was 16 and I was 27 when I had the baby. The other Dry Bay Tl'uknaxAdi ate in Shark House. The Teqwedi fed them. The Kwackqwan stayed in their own house. There were none from far away. The next day, we were invited again to the party, Kardeetoo invited us. Kardeetoo stayed there in Shark House, I went back again. The party was at night. Before they have a feast, a potlatch, they make you a party 4 days before that. Right after the potlatch, one day after, they have a big party. And then they rest. [She summarized the order of events]: First they had a party in Shark House in the afternoon. Then [the second day] they had a party in Coward House. Third, they had a party in Drum House, Fourth, they had a party in Shark House, Then they had a potlatch in Shark House again. One night they are in Shark House and they coUecte d money. Then they had a big party in Shark House again. Then they had a potlatch in Drum House again. One night they were in Drum House and they coUected money. Then they had a potlatch in Coward House again. One night they were in Coward House and they coUected money. Then they had a party in Coward House. Then they had a party in Drum House. They call it gAddnak^ [gAdAnAq(?), 'they stood'] when they give out the money. We danced right after the parties, not after the potlatches. We danced after every party in Shark House, and after the party in Drum House and after the party in Coward House. We danced right in those houses to say "thank you." [Evidently each of the events listed above fell on a separate day, except for the party and the dance after it.] And after that, we went through aU the houses: Shark House, Coward House, Drum House, and Wolf Bath House, WoU Bath House is [Galyix-] Kagwantan, but they invited us. And we aU danced in there. We did aU that in one day. The Teqwedi danced for the potlatch, only one time, in Shark House, and Drum House, and Coward House. The potlatch in Drum House was for Taguq'^-'ic [Skin Canoe George Ki-ye-quat-kene, 1855-1900, its former chief]. He buUt it in the first place. Dok-na-keen [Daknaqin] buUt it the second time. When Taguq'^-'ic died they had the party [for the funeral]. I don't re- member who it was for in the other houses. We went to that Kagwantan house and they had a party there for us because that man in there, S'A'AI [Yakategy John], was married to a Teqwedi-yAdi, Sisgex^-tla [the Kwackqwan daughter of !?CEnk of Bear House]. That's why he invited us in there. He was Qalyix-Kagwantan. After we finished the dancing and party and pot- latching, we aU went back to Dry Bay on the snow. We used a sled. Some went in canoe, and others on the snow, [When asked what she had received at the potlatch:] I got a piece of cloth—cotton cloth, I made a house- dress out of it—some money, and some yarn. 650 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 A Ivlissionary's Account of Yakutat Potlatches Albin Johnson mentions Yakutat potlatches in two chapters of his book dealing with his 17 years at Yakutat, Perhaps the first potlatch witnessed by the missionaries was that given by the Teqwedi chief, YAUACifuk^, "Jana-Shoo," or Minaman, m 1890(?). Of this, Johnson writes (1924, pp. 33-34): "During the winter of 1890 on little Khantaak Island in southern Alaska a big feast was to take place among the Indians of the so-called "Thlinket" tribe. The winds blew coldly , , , snow had faUen, . . . On this island there was a large Indian viUage, with its cold and poor houses, buUt after their models. In the house of the chief, the largest one, preparations were made for the potlatch feast. Wood was carried in for the fire, food of different kinds, such as fish, a great amount of seal oU, as weU as blankets and calico, of which the last two items were to be given away at the potlatch. "Chiefs from far away vUlages had been invited. People had come even from the vUlage of the Stick Indians in distant Dry Bay, It was a cold winter evening before the real feast started. The author and a missionary, K.J., made a little trip from our station in Yakutat to greet the people in the village. We were very warmlj^ received by the chief, Jana-Shoo. "He said, 'I am glad that you whites have come here to teach the people. My people cannot do anything, understand nothing, and behave like dogs.' " The missionaries then announced their plans to buUd a church, open a school, and found a home for orphan chUdren, This pleased the chief, and when the news spread among the assembled people, a little ragged orphan girl, "Datt-sherke," then about 6 years old, ran to sit among the missionaries. She was taken back to live with them and was baptized Esther. The date of this potlatch is probably in error, and I suspect that it took place iu the faU of 1889, not of 1890, because the church and orphanage were already buUt by the latter date, and Chief Minaman was dead (p, 201), Albin Johnson described the potlatch at Yakutat under the title of the "Tlingits' Annual Feast" (1924, pp, 108-112): "The Indians yearly hold a great feast in the late faU, when they are home from the hunt and from fishing. They keep catching salmon untU the rivers and the lakes freeze. , , , [WhUe at fishcamp] they always have in mind the preparations for the feast in the fall. The money they make by working for white gold miners or for the canneries, they save for this feast. When they come home to the viUages they buy a great amount of blankets and cotton cloth and food for the feast. This is a giant feast which they hold only once in 25 or 50 years. The richest in the whole tribe then gives away aU his property, which consists of blankets, A chief in Sitka held such a feast twenty years ago. This chief had gathered 3,000 blankets and a lot of cotton cloth, which he gave away. And then there were representatives from several places who were the recipients of the many gifts. They know nothing better than to hold a potlatch-feast and to give away aU they can. The more they give, the higher they are regarded by the tribe, "At the autumn feast they make themselves happy. When everything is ready, they gather in a large house, the different tribes [sibs] in different groups. The feast is divided into different acts, such as food-feasts, gUt-feasts, weeping-feasts, dance-feasts, and shamanistic {troll) feasts. Every- thing was characterized by darkness and the blackest heathendom. They like blankets and cotton cloth; the brighter the colors, the better, according to their taste. "The feast starts with drum beating. A large food container [box drum] is the bass drum. They paint their faces, red, black, green, striped and in totemic designs. From the whites they buy sugar, rice, beans, sirup, etc. From their own resources they have fish, birds, seal meat, fat, dried berries, roots, seaweed, etc. Each famUy [hneage?] has a gigantic tray that holds four to five gaUons, Now they group in a square, and a band of young men give out sugar, etc. Then comes etaing and singing. Then a number of women come in, dressed in richly embroidered clothes. After that a great amount of dancing, wUder songs and screams and dreadful noise, AU start simultaneously and stop simul- taneously, "In the next act, a great number of red, brown, striped and checkered rags are brought in which are to be given away. The blankets are torn in long strips, eight or ten from each blanket, and are given away by the owner, whose name is shouted so that all may hear and see how much valuable goods he is giving away. After that, bolts of cloth are carried in. Two men unroU the cloth and show how long a piece and how much this man and that man is giving away. This is now talked about and admired by the people. Then the cloth is torn up, in lengths of one yard or less, and these are given away like the pieces of blankets, "At the feast aU were given food, cloth and pieces of blanket, that is, pieces of either the one or the IN THREE PARTS THE POTLATCH 651 other kind. Then, after the feast, the women were busy sewing clothing, blouses and other garments, of these many pieces which had different colors and shapes. These became colorful clothing. But the worse in appearance, they better they thought it. "Afterwards came other acts of the feast, with dark behavior and of an evU nature. One of these was the feast for the spirits of the dead. The shaman led them. There could be weeping for whole nights, suddenly starting and suddenly stopping. The whole crowd wept loudly. Here were listed the great men and women who had left them. They thought that their spirits came at the times of the feasts, and they wanted to honor them in the foUowing way: A fire was started on which they threw blankets, pieces of cloth, food, etc. Someone shouted the names of those who had lived and died in the belief that what one threw on the fire they would receive. In this way they kept up the memory, friendship and relationship with the spirits," Perhaps the shaman to whom Johnson refers was Tek-'ic, If so, he was probably officiating at the pot- latch by virtue of his position as head of Bear House on Khantaak Island, not in his professional capacity. A Layman's Comments on a Potlatch A White man who had lived for some time at Yakutat, visiting there for business purposes, said that he was glad the natives were "getting away from aU that old tribal business," because it just meant drinking and fights and conflicted with the law. He had never known a potlatch or dance that didn't end in a fight because the natives got jealous of each other. They aU needed to get together and work as a community, "At Situk, they would brew a batch of sourdough beer, put in anything—potatoes, rice, flour, et cetera. They'd start drinking, then they'd begin to sing. And finaUy someone would take a broomstick and they'd begin some of those real old-time songs and start to dance. But it would always end in a fight. It's those African jungle rhythms—boom, boom, boom—that gets them aU worked up. The younger men who had been away to school would take the guns and knives away from them—I bet there must be a hundred guns and knives under the Situk raUway bridge—so no- body was badly hurt, but they did get beaten up. The Whites used aU to gather in one tent or camp so there would be too many of them for the natives to attack, which they might do to get their knives and guns. The natives would always fix up the crock agaia so they'd have somethiag to sober up on in the morning. "Now they are trying to get away from potlatching. , . , And when they give aU the dead person's thiags away to the opposite tribe, that means there is no money left for the probate fee or funeral expenses or to cover bad debts, AU the people die intestate and that means a muiimum fee of $150. . . . There is also trouble between the old riUe of inheritance and the present law." Cures, Medicines, and Amulets The native people of Yakutat, especially shamans and certain other wise persons, had considerable surgical skUl and knowledge of many native medicines. Native medicines (nak^) were made from the roots, stems, leaves, bark, and pitch of plants, bushes and trees, and also from mosses and hchens. They were therefore often caUed 'green leaves,' (kayani), even though the princi- pal ingredient was the root. The native term, however, almost always signUied a 'medicine' or "dope" used, not for curative functions, but as a magical ingredient (see below). Some medicinal plants were eaten or ap- plied raw, but most were cooked. Various infusions were drunk to relieve coughs or other pulmonary ail- ments, to induce sweating, or to act as purgatives. Sometimes the infusion was rubbed on an afflicted place or used for a hot bath. Sores, swellings, and infected wounds were treated with cooked mashes, usuaUy applied with seal oU. A few of the medicinal plants are known to have required religious rites to become effective, or apparently operated in supernatural ways; perhaps in former days this was true of them all. A serious or wasting Ulness, or one which could not be relieved by home remedies, was usually attributed to witchcraft and therefore required the services of a shaman (pp. 708-709, 730-731). Tumors or less serious afflictions were explained as due to spirit infection from a shaman's paraphernalia, and again could be cured only by a shaman (pp. 699-701). Some epidemic diseases were believed caused by evU spirits (p. 710). However, even laymen had some means of combatting these, and in cases of Ulness native remedies were always tried before the shaman was called in. The use of medicinal plants is today known both to men and women, although in most of the cases described it was the women who were the most active in securing, preparing, and administering the remedies. In serious iUnesses, father and mother would cooperate in the care of a sick child, or parties of young men and young women would be sent out to find the necessary ingre- dients. Information about medicinal plants is exchanged between friends or relatives, but the gathered plants or dried roots are sold; some are even bought from the Tlingit of southeastern Alaska, Some of the older natives have admitted that in their youth they were not much interested in such matters, but are now, and they often combine or alternate native remedies with those prescribed by doctors or with drugs procurable at the store. Stories are told of native medicines that effected cures in cases that could not be relieved at the Government hospital in Juneau, The Yakutat people are, however, eager to take advantage of whatever Public Health facilities are offered, and in 1954 were anxious to secure the presence of a full-time nurse at Yakutat, They take "shots," have their chests X-rayed, prefer to have their babies in a hospital, and go to 654 Juneau or even to Seattle for operations, often patron- izing private physicians or clinics, if they can afford it, in preference to those of the Indian Service. They look forward to an annual trip to Juneau "for check-up" as a vacation outing, as well as a medical desideratum. Ills for which native remedies are or have been employed include infected wounds, abcesses, skin irri- tation, scalp trouble, burns, rheumatism, arthritis, menstrual pains, headache, coughs, tuberculosis, influ- enza, shingles(?), cataract, pneumonia, and smallpox. Swanton (1908, p, 446) also mentions syphUis. The natives also had knowledge of such surgical techniques as washing wounds, lancing boUs, covering burns, and sewing up wounds with sinew. Presumably they also set broken bones, although I was not told anything about the last. Gynecologic skiU is weU developed (see pp. 500-502), and there must have been consider- able knowledge of anatomy since formerly the foetus of a woman who died in pregnancy had to be cut out and burned or buried separately (pp. 535-536). There seems to have been no clear line drawn between "true" medicines (in our sense) that were purely curative, and those which were magical 'medicines,' or even amulets that could ward off misfortune or bring good luck. Rather, these various properties were all manifestations of the great powers of the 'medicines.' These substances were vegetal in almost every instance, or included some portion of a plant. Only a few cures did not involve the use of medicinal plants, and only certain amulets were made that did not contain magical roots. A number of plants used primarUy for food are also believed to have curative powers. The term 'medicine' (nak'^) is sometimes given as the name of the plant from which the medicine is made. It may designate either medicine in our sense or the magically potent preparation. 'Green leaves' (kayani) almost invariably implied the latter, hence was usually translated as "dope." We should also note that an amulet (of stone, bone, ivory, or wood), to be worn or rubbed on the body, was caUed 'body-medicine' (danak''). A charm 'to wish on' (wtjxf) might include a magical root (kayani), or be used like a rubbing amulet. My information on medicinal plants and their ad- ministration, while incomplete, gives some clue to the richness of the aboriginal pharmacopoea, "There's lots of things in the woods that can cure people. We don't even know [about them] ourselves;" but the old people did (MJ), After listing a variety of magical plants, another informant added: "These are the most important kinds of kayani. Nobody knows how to do it [find and prepare them]. Costs lots of money for it. They buy it from one another—not from doctors [shamans]. The same way with these medicines IN THREE PARTS MEDICINES AND AMULETS 655 The only common one is yana'Et ?adi [wUd celery root] and iatl' xadi [skunk cabbage root]," It is almost impossible to present this information in an orderly fashion. This is because so many different plants might be used for the same purpose, for example as a poultice for wounds, or as an infusion for coughs. Conversely, a number of important plants have sovereign virtues effective over many Uls, and, in addi- tion, may act magicaUy to bring luck. In a number of cases we were unable to identify the plants, probably because knowledge about them is stUl prized as a per- sonal or famUy secret. Because medicinal lore and the substances them- selves were exchanged between the Thngit of Yakutat and those of southeastern Alaska, this account includes the 'medicines' recorded by Swanton in 1904 from an old man at Sitka (1908, pp. 446-448). Some of these are undoubtedly identical with ones employed at Yakutat, even though the uses were sometimes differ- ent and the names varied slightly from those we obtained. SURGICAL TECHNIQUES The shaman certainly had surgical skiUs. Thus, the shaman Tek-'ic lanced infected wounds or glands to let out the pus, and when a man was mauled by a bear, directed the women who were sewing up his wounds (pp, 709, 716-717). According to the Rev. Albin Johnson, the last was accomplished with ordinary black thread, and he seems to credit the man's recovery to the missionaries' use of carbohc acid in the water with which the wounds were washed (p. 717)! At an earlier day, sinew thread would have been used. Salt water was used to wash and soak wounds, for there was virtue in sea water baths, apart from their role in hardenuig the young hunter. Such baths were physicaUy and spirituaUy purifying, as weU as curative (p. 516). Thus: "When my dad go on sea otter hunting—The man behind him, he put the loaded gun down in the boat, and it went off, and my father was shot in the hip. They brought him home, and when he's getting healed they put him in salt water. After he got bit up by a bear, treat him the same way. Salt water is like medicine." Salt water, taken internaUy, was also cleansing. Severe burns were effectively treated. For example, when the first mission buUding was destroyed by fire and the Reverend Hendrickson was injured trying to rescue the furnishings, his cure was undertaken by the native women, according to my informant (MJ). They opened and drained the blisters on his face and arms, and greased the burned flesh with fresh seal oil. Parties of young people had been sent out to gather smaU chitons at low tide. The black skins from these were peeled off and used to cover the raw flesh, untU the blisters dried and new skin had grown again. Extra chiton skins to renew the dressings were kept spread out on pieces of wrapping paper, and additional hve chitons were at hand in a water bucket. The patient is said to have recovered completely, and the same cure was also employed in another serious case (SJ), I might also mention that urine was said to be a good eyewash (MJ). It was, of course, used as soap to wash the person both for physical and spiritual cleanli- ness, and it served further as a prophylaxis against contamination by Land Otter Men (p, 747). According to Swanton (1908, p, 447) one drank one's own urine before taking 'syphUis medicine,' and it was also effec- tively employed in connection mth' grabbing medicine' when hunting sea otter (see below, p. 661). Perhaps the belief in the medicinal effectiveness of human urine was based upon its obvious cleansing properties and upon its supposed virtue in overcoming evU spirits and animal souls. MEDICINAL PLANTS Medicines for External Use SKUNK CABBAGE The root of the skunk cabbage (t&iV, p. 33) is a good medicine for infected wounds (^el nak'^). "Big brown bear digs it up. Stick it to a place where it's wounded. That's how they [people] learn, , . . Bears just use it raw. . . , No matter what place he is, bear always go to that. He [my father] wounded so many brown bears, he see them do it," (MJ) The informant explained how her little brother had a badly infected ear into which a fly had crawled and 656 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 died. The earache was cured by putting in shavings of skunk cabbage root and warm oil. This was kept up for about 2 days and nights untU the abscess broke and the pus and dead fly came out. On another occasion, the same boy cut his knee badly. Boiled skunk cabbage root was mashed on a flat rock, squeezed through a cloth, mixed with seal oil and mountain goat tallow, and heated. This mash was put in or under the bandage, and the cut healed quickly. Skunk cabbage root is also taken internaUy (p, 657), Harrington (MS,) records the word, xdatl', both for the skunk cabbage and for a hair tonic, made of some unknown "vegetal product . , . mixt with oil" (see HeUebore, p. 658). cow PARSNIP The root of the "wUd celery" (yana'Et, p, 33; pi. 97) is also used as a poultice, "Yana'Et xadi— wUd celery root is what the brown bear uses when wounded" (SJ), It is stiU used for arthritis by a woman who explained, "You steam the root in water, split it apart, then put it on when it's stiU steaming, If you don't put grease on first, it wUl take the skin off. It's pretty strong stuff." The boUed root is appar- ently applied in cheesecloth and left on the afflicted joint overnight. YARROW A type of yarrow with clusters of pink and white flowers that bloom about the first of August (Achillea sp,, p, 34), is caUed 'mouse taU' (kagak tl'idi). If boiled and put hot on a swoUen infection it wUl draw the bad blood to the surface so that it can be lanced. A hot compress made of the leaves may also be used on a sore eye or on any sore place. Leaves are laid on the hot rocks in the steambath as a cure for rheumatism or for menstrual cramps. SEAL-TONGUE MEDICINE Swanton (1908, p, 446) reports a plant with a "large flower" called 'seal's-tongue medicine' (tsa-l!u'te nak"). This is chopped up and applied as a poultice to large boils or sores, SNUFF Although perhaps not a regular remedy, on at least one occasion snuff was chewed and applied to a cut to staunch the bleeding. This was done by some young people after an escapade in which a girl cut her knee badly and they wanted to keep the incident hidden from their parents. DOCK OR SORREL "WUd rhubarb" (Rumex sp,, p, 33), in addition to its use as food and as a dye, also furnished medicine. "They use rhubarbs—good medicine for cuts, that thing, the roots." The informant told how her grand- mother had treated her father's younger brother when the youth ran a fishhook through his hand: "They cook it, they mash it, they use fresh seal oU and mix it. Then they put it on. AU that thing, you know— sometimes it's pussy, you know. They clean it out. It heals quick," "It eats up the pus. BoU it and chop it up and put it together with fresh seal oU like vas- eline, , . . Put it on cuts, like iodine." Her uncle's hand was "spoUed—aU swollen up," But after the root was applied, "next day it was aU cleaned up." KELP Another remedy for sweUings is pulp made from kelp (gic, p. 56). "If you bump your knee, they use kelp pulp. Warm it and put it on. It's like iodine. There's iodine m it." (SJ) DEVILCLUB DevUclub bark was also used as a poidtice (see p, 659), LICHENS "Lichens from the ground in the woods are good for sores. Smash it up and heat it on rocks with seal oU and mountain goat tallow," (MJ) DEERBERRT In late June, 1952, we went with a party of women to the woods between the Ankau lagoons and the ocean beach, where they found some medicinal plants which they intended to transplant near their homes at Yaku- tat, One of these was the deerberry or bunchberry (qekaxitUs: or qet kayani, p, 32), One of the women intended to lay the leaves on the stove to heat them as an apphcation for her eyes. She said she "can't see so good. It draws the poison out. Also it's good for burns," Another added, "It's medicine for everything—boUs, cataract, and breast mUk, Cut it to size, put it on your eye, and in the morning the cataract comes right off," (MJ) Another woman told us that she had used it on her breast when she had her first baby and the nipple became sore "and spoUed," She confirmed its value for the eyes and for infected cuts. BLUE CURRANT Swanton (1908, p. 447) also mentions another plant used to remove cataracts. This is probably the 'wUd currant' (cax or cax, p, 32) for he caUed it CAXWA'S!! (i,e., 'currant bush'). If pieces of the broken and heated vines are placed close to a white spot on the eye, this is supposed to come out. Very sunUar in name is what he caUs 'syphihs med- icine' (ca'xuAstt nak^, see below, p, 657), IN THREE PARTS MEDICINES AND AMULETS 657 MOSS Another compress for cataracts is made from a light green moss, Parmelia sp,? (sExoni, p, 31), that grows on an unidentified tree (tl'ulyik). The moss is soaked, mashed, and made into a pad, "Then take the smash stuff and soak it in breast milk that just comes out fresh from your own breast. My mother used to do that for my grandfather when he was getting bhnd. It help hun," (MJ) Medicines for Internal Use Although not reported at Yakutat, Swanton (1908, p. 448) was told that the Thngit used to drink the slimy water in which slugs had been dissolved as a remedy against spitting blood. My informants, however, stressed the great variety of plants that were used to make infusions, drunk primarUy for rehef of pulmonary con- sumption. Some of these were also applied externaUy. SKUNK CABBAGE This useful root (see p. 655) was also used for "lung trouble." "Peel the outside off. Shce it and boU it with pure water and seal oU. Drink it when it's warm." (SJ) "When it's dry, scrape it and smeU it. It's good for headache—and TB." (MJ) In this connection we should note that American pharmacists in the Isist century gave fresh-ground skunk cabbage root {Ictodes foetidus) as a stimulant or narcotic to stop spasms. It was also prescribed "for a variety of medical conditions, including asthma, catarrh, rheuma- tism, dropsy, whooping cough, and pulmonary consump- tion" (Fred Lascoff of J. Leon Lascoff and Sons, commenting on President Truman's autobiography, quoted in the New York Times, Sept. 29, 1955; p, 35). FETID CURRANT AND THIMBLEBERRY The stems and leaves of the 'lowbush currant' (kAUElt^uk, p. 32) may be gathered in the spring or faU when there are no berries. An infusion made by boihng these is drunk as a "TB medicine," The thknbleberry (p. 32) is also used for the same purpose (MJ and friend). HEMLOCK AND SPRUCE BARK AND PITCH Hemlock bark is also good for tuberculosis, as is the pitch from the hemlock and balsam. Presumably in- fusions were made from these (MJ and friends). Tea made from spruce bark is said to make better cough medicine than any that can be bought in the store. MOUNTAIN ASH A useful TB medicine was made from a taU plant (kAtltcAUEt) in the woods that has white flowers in late July and red berries in mid-August, This was a species of Sorbus, probably the Sitka mountain ash (p. 32), The roots were used to make an infusion. HUDSON'S BAY TEA Tea made from the leaves of Ledum groenlandicum (sikcAltin, pp, 33, 407) was drunk as a substitute tea, and as a medicine for colds and for the stomach, BLUE CURRANT(?) Swanton mentions 'syphihs medicine' (ca'xuAstt nak''), the native name of which suggests that of the 'wUd currant' (cax), GOATSBEARD The roots of the goatsbeard, a tall plant with white spires that blooms in mid-July (Aruncus vulgaris, p, 33) are dug and boUed fresh to make a tea. In the faU, when the plant becomes red, they are worthless. The first effects of this medicine (qa kakdusex nak") are to make the patient feel worse, "It makes you sick, if you're going to get weU. You say to the one that gives it to you, 'How come you give me this medicine that makes me sick?' In a few hours you feel good." The medicine is supposed to be "good for everything—TB, rheumatism." The informant's grandfather used it "when the sickness came," presumably smaUpox. There are probably many other types of plants than were named by my informants that yielded infusions that were drunk as cough medicines. Medicines With Great Power Certain medicines seem to be in a special class be- cause they are so powerful. Not only are some of them good for a variety of aUments, but they are also magi- cally effective. Some may be gathered only after they have been asked to help the patient and a smaU token payment left in their place. Perhaps this was true in the past of aU remedies. From the hints given in the statements quoted below, we may infer that in serious cases the preparation and administration of remedies was, whenever possible, entrusted to relatives in the opposite moiety who were paid for their services, since such persons were always called upon at life crises. However, it should be noted that at present aU native remedies are employed in much the same spirit as the White man's medicines. 658 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 AMERICAN WHITE HELLEBORE "Skookum root" (sikc, p. 33, pi, 94) is known as a strong medicine, so poisonous that it will kUl if used incorrectly. It was believed to be an effective protection against land otters (p, 746), Swanton (1908, p. 446) reports that a little bit of it (s!tkc, "a species of Vera- trum") was snuffed up the nose to stop a cold. The roots, ground up and mixed with fresh seal oU, wiU make the hair grow, hence it is called 'head-hair medicine' (cAxawu nak'^). According to one woman, the roots are cut in small pieces and mixed with oil, whUe fir buds are added to make it smell good. This is rubbed on the head for dandruff. Or, to make "good dandruff medicine, when you get your hair falhng out, you take the leaves, put it in a little can, and burn it. Just use the ashes of it. [Or?] dry the leaves, make a powder out of it. Put seal oil on, rub it in your hair. Be mighty careful you don't get any on your eyes. It would blind you. It's strong, that's why you can't use it without oU. That's why you never find any old people bald-headed." The informant went on to teU how "skookum root" and seal oU quickly restored to a man's head the hair torn out by his jealous wife. "Other people make cramp medicine out of it, for when women have their monthlies. , . . People used to get it and dry it and put it away for winter. It's good for pneumonia, BoU the leaves of it, or the roots, with seal oil. Take just a little bit," (MJ) This was effective in her own case (see p. 659). YELLOW POND LILY AND BUCKBEAN Another sovereign remedy is made from the roots of the yeUow pond lily, 'things grooving in the lake' ('atug^exi, p, 33), and also from the buckbean, a gentian that grows beside it and is called its 'chUdren' ('atug^exi yAtxi, p. 33, pi. 97). The two are perhaps not clearly distinguished by the natives, and are on the borderline between ordinary medicine and magical plants. Thus, the patient wUl not be cured unless a payment is made to the gunEtkAuayi, specifically a member (or members) of the opposite moiety who is closely related through the paternal line or through afl&nity. It is such a person who must gather the plant. "When you dig it up, talk to it, like you would to Indian doctor, and leave some of your clothes [or money] in its place. Tell them it's for a person we're going to use it for, [Name the patient]. It's medicine , , , [Say to it] 'No Indian doctor could ciu-e, so we appoint you for a doctor. The person appoint you to cure, that Indian doctor give it up. But you, you do your best to cure it,' They give present to the doctor to make his spirits stronger, so the spirits can cure you or find things out," That is why, it is implied, the plants must also be paid. This medicine is "good for hurt of any kind," this woman explained. She said that she had drunk an infusion of the plant when she was sick, and had also given some to a relative of her husband, when he had "poison blood" and sores on his legs which the hospital had been unable to cure. He drank a cupful before meals, and now wants her to supply him with more, for which he offered $5. Angoon people are said to use only the roots, but she boUed aU the plant and prefers the buckbean to the yellow pond lUy. The medicine is also good for tuberculosis, and informants also cited two cases of pneumonia in which an infusion of the yellow dock had been administered with success. A White man who was afflicted with rheumatism had drunk it and rubbed some of the infusion on his legs. IRIS Although my informants did not mention the Arctic iris, Vernon (1895, p. 346; quoted p. 33) noted that the Yakutat Indians used its root as "a medicinal charm," Because it grows in association with the yeUow pond lUy and the buckbean, although in the marsh near the pond, not in the water, I suspect that it was employed in the same way, WILD HELIOTROPE Wild hehotrope or valerian, one of the "heavy- scented perennials with smaU whitish or pinkish flowers in close cymes" (Anderson, 1959, pp. 433-434), yielded 'medicine that stinks' (1 tcAui nak'", p, 34). According to Swanton (1908, p, 446, this "smeUing medicine" was made from a plant that growls on the mountain tops and has a strong odor, and was rubbed on the body for "any kind of sickness," It was also blown on traps to make them successful. My informants said that it was obtained high above the timber line near Point Latouche, or on the slopes above Disenchantment Bay, and that formerly it was addressed and paid when gathered. This was done after it had ceased blooming, for informants denied that it had flowers, and I presume that only the root was taken. Mashed to a powder, it is known as "native pepper," put on a mother's breasts to assist in weaning, since it would burn the baby's mouth (p. 506). When ground up and soaked in hot water it was used for rubbing on sore muscles, "yij grandfather used to have bags of it. , , . It eases up cramps." (MJ) DEVILCLUB The devilclub (t^AXt, p. 32, pi. 95), with its mur- derously spiked leaves and branches, is perhaps the most important medicinal and magical plant of all. It IN THREE PARTS MEDICINES AND AMULETS 659 was closely associated with the shaman, who wore suspended from his neck a bundle of its stems and spruce twigs, in which was the animal tongue that contained his power (p. 695, pi. 198). This charm might be touched to the patient's body as part of the cure. Or, the shaman might remove the disease by having the patient step through a hoop of devUclubs. Sometimes the shaman chewed a piece of the plant, then gave it to the patient (p. 708). The devUclub (principaUy the bark) is a powerful emetic and purgative, taken by the shaman for purifi- cation during his noviciate and quest (pp. 676, 677). Others also used it as a purgative, and it is apparently stUl taken. The thorns are scraped off the stem and the bark is chewed. "Somebody get sick, he eat devUclub, you know— good medicine! I eat it myself. That's why I no get sick. Chew raw, just bite it off. Strong that stuff! Vomit sometimes, , , , Stomach get cleaned, see?" Or, "BoU it in the water and drink it that way. . . . Good for flu, too" (CW). Another purgative is hot sea water which, one woman reported, had also been successfuUy employed in a case of influenza. Another informant explained that when she had pneumonia, she was made to sit in a big tub of hot water and shavings of devUclub bark. She was also given tea made of "Skookum root" (heUebore) and fresh sea oU, and the combined treatment sweated out the fever (MJ). The same woman said further that a poultice of roasted devUclub bark shavings mixed with spruce pitch can be used for "any place that's sore." The spot is first greased with fresh seal oU. "It takes the swelling out and gathers the sickness up in one place and takes it out," A case in which it had been effective would appear to have been shingles, for the patient "got sores all over, just like a belt on," The informant also beheved that this poultice would be good for impetigo, of which there were a few cases at Yakutat (MJ). If a woman becomes so badly chiUed that men- struation stops, the devUclub may be used as a remedy, stUl another woman averred. It is boUed and a "drop" or "about half a teaspoon" of the mfusion is drunk in water. Or the bark is put on hot rocks in the bathhouse and the patient pours water on them to make steam, and squats over the hot rocks. The yarrow caUed 'mouse taU' (p, 656) may be used in the same way, or both yarrow and devUclub may be heated and put on the woman's beUy, "Then the womb is open." Hardy Trefzger (1963, p. 24) reports that medicine made from devUclub bark was used to treat cases of venereal disease, contracted by women from the orien- tal crews at the cannery. The devUclub is perhaps most important during epidemics, for it is thought to be an effective pro- tection against such diseases as smaUpox, chickenpox, measles, and virulent influenza, infections which are believed to be caused by spirits caUed 'things of the world' (Imgit 'ani 'Adi). They are invisible to all but shamans (p. 710), but are supposed to be afraid of the sharp spines of the devUclub. "Nothing hkes devUclubs. Everybody is careful when they go among devUclubs. They think the 'things in the world' is scared of them." For this reason, the people used to naU branches of devUclub "like good-luck horseshoes," on the outside of the house, above the door and at the corners, and sometimes indoors as weU, to keep out epidemic dis- eases. This was usuaUy done in March, when there was apt to be a good deal of sickness about, or when there was word of epidemics in neighboring settlements. The practice is stUl foUowed by a few old people. A smaU piece of devUclub might be peeled and pierced to hang around the neck of a chUd to ward off iUness. Later (when the danger was passed?), it was put with dog excrement. During the influenza epidemic of 1918-19, several famUies kept the house fuU of smoke from pieces of devUclub that were burned on top of the stove. The door was left open aU the time to keep the house cold, so that the occupants would not become overheated and so liable to catch cold when they went out. These precautions were beheved to have been effective (CW, et al.). The purifying powers of devUclub are used to make the fish run again if they had been driven away by a menstruating woman, and they can also be employed to end bad weather (pp. 528, 807). MAGICAL PLANTS AND AMULETS Magical plants or substances, although caUed 'medi- cine' (nak^), may perhaps be distinguished from purely curative medicines because they do not act primarUy on the one who employs them, but upon 265-517—72—vol. VII, pt. 2 9 other persons, animals, or objects, usuaUy at a dis- tance. They are therefore not apphed as a poultice to the body that is to be affected, nor drunk as an infusion. They may, however, be handled, carried on 660 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 the person, held in the mouth, or even in some cases rubbed on the body, but only to influence or attract something else. The use of these 'medicines' may involve chastity, fasting, purging, bathing, making a wish, or performing specified ritual acts. To be effec- tive, some require that a portion or sample of the object to be affected (hair, clothing, money, etc.) be put in contact with the 'medicine.' The latter may, therefore, be considered as a kind of amulet to attract wealth or good fortune, or, when it is employed to injure another, as a form of witchcraft. We have already noted that some plants (kayani) were so effective that they not only could cure Ulness, if apphed to or taken by the patient, but could also act magicaUy. In this category are heUebore, wUd heliotrope, and devUclub. Probably others could be added if our information were more complete. Knowl- edge about magical "dopes" or about the magical properties of medicinal plants was probably always more esoteric than about ordinary curative prepara- tions, or else it has been more forgotten as belief in the effectiveness of magic has been weakened or destroyed. Perhaps some 'medicines' were known only to shamans. In any case, I WELS able to learn less about these super- natural 'medicines' than about home remedies. Except for the Siberian springbeauty, the star flower, and the white bog-orchid, the plants involved could not be identified. These magical "dopes" were used to weaken an angry enemy or animal, to beat a rival hunter, to shoot accurately, to attract game, to attract wealth, to secure double payment at a potlatch, to conceal mistakes in dancing or singing, to make a potlatch successful, to kUl someone by magic, or to attract a loved one. Such a medicine was mentioned in the "History of Yakutat" (p. 233). It wUl be remembered that the GrAlyix-Kagwantan chief "made a lucky flower that helped them in hunting. The lucky flower was caUed kayani. There are other kinds of kayani. We learned about it from the Haida," This wealth-bringing flower led the natives to a wrecked vessel on the beach. A variety of magical substances and amulets might be used by the hunter, most of which were made from plants (kayani). "AU different people know different things. Some they learn from Dekina [Haida], or different people. They make it to do good, or to do bad. Or animals— they claim the power of kayani draws them in their way." The informant stressed the regulations surround- ing its use. "They have to be careful. Have to stay away from women so many months when working on kayani, [but the informant did not know how long]. Have to get up early, go without food maybe aU day long, eat in the evening, for 4 days, or 8 days. Different kinds got different rules." (SJ) He believed that there were certain varieties for arrows, and also for traps and snares, but again did not know what these were. "Different famUies has different kinds." I have already indicated that no actual poison was used on weapons (p. 363); it was magic that was effective. "They used to beheve in aU that. Now they don't believe, so it kUls aU the power of that." (SJ) 'NO STEENGTH MEDICINE' The best known kind of "dope" is caUed 'no strength inside someone' (Iqatu lAtsIn). This robs a dangerous animal, such as a bear, or a human adversary of strength and the wiU to fight. It makes "animals pity you. When they get mad, they don't want to harm you." (SJ) The native name for this medicine suggests that recorded by Swanton (1908, p. 446) and 'medicine- that-makes-things-humble' (Iqa'tul tcln nak"). The roots are chewed and spat out in front of oneself as one goes along, making both men and animals humble. A Yakutat informant further described the hunting medicine: "When you take the roots out, it looks like a seal flipper or a fishtaU; and that's what they are going to get. ... I see some. They brought it from up the bay. It's good for hunting, also for many things. The name means 'feeling weak.'" That the appearance is a clue to its virtue suggests the European "Doctrine of Signatures." The connection between the shape of the root and the use to which it could be put was also specificaUy suggested for love medicine (see p. 663). When using 'no strength medicine,' said one woman, "You keep the roots in your pocket when you go out hunting. You see a bear or something, always take the roots off and put it in your mouth. Keep it in your mouth untU you come to it," and kiU the animal. Another woman, whose brother has used it in bear hunting, said: "He has it in his possession aU the time [when out hunting]. He carries it in his mouth and chews it. . . . It wUl kUl the dead feeling in that animal when he gets angry [i.e., wUl destroy the murderous rage of the bear]." (MJ) We should note that when using metal (sUver, iron, steel) as a protection against land otters this is more effective if put into one's mouth (p. 746). Not only is the root carried by the hunter, but it is also sucked or chewed or held in the mouth by the song leaders of the potlatch guests, so that their mistakes wiU not be noticed (p. 616). This is because there are always two rival groups of guests at a pot- latch, that "dance against each other," and each is jealously watching whUe the other performs, hoping that they wUl make mistakes. The song leaders who use this medicine have to fast. It is said to lack taste. IN THREE PARTS MEDICINES AND AMULETS 661 The same magical roots are also used in quarrels or contests, "You can use it in fighting—put it in your mouth. The other feUow kind of backward in harming you, not too willing to hurt you," (SJ) Quite possibly it was this root that a Yakutat man used in a wrestling match with a Chugach Eskimo and, according to the Eskimo, thereby obtained an unfair victory. The Yakutat visitors to Prince WiUiam Sound, "had a smaU man named Niuqut [Ne4ut?—a Teqwedi pot- latch name] who was not very strong but usuaUy won aU the wrestling matches, because he chewed some kind of leaves [a hteral translation of the Tlingit kayani] and blew into his opponent's face, and so he lost aU his strength. He wrestled with Makari's elder brother who was a big, strong man. When he blew in his face, the other felt his legs grow weak and cave under him, and so he lost," (Birket-Smith, 1953, p. 108.) Some Yakutat informants agreed that this "dope" would be "just the thing" for their favorite heavyweight contestant for the World Championship. The same root was also said to have been used by a defendant in a murder trial in 1919. "Larry" shot a man who accused him of witchcraft and was on trial (p. 743). "Even if you get mad at someone who has it, aU of a sudden you don't know what to do, . . . When they caught L, they give him a trial. He said that's why he come out with no sentence, because he had it [the root]. But that's just a coincidence." This magical root does not have to be procured from a shaman; in fact, some old men and women in Yakutat are reputed to know what plant to take and to have gathered it on Haenke Island, although our informants could not identify it for us, "If you know about it, you can go out, get it yourself before you eat." It must be gathered early in the morning. "Just the way they say, that kayani strong when you get it in the morning be- fore you eat. After you eat it wouldn't help you." The gatherer did not have to fast the previous day, but was supposed to have refrained from sexual inter- course, although the informant did not know for how long. After the user has been successful, he must dispose of the root. This rule applies to aU kayani. "When he gets his wish, he puts it under a rotten tree. If he keeps it, it wiU brmg bad luck," (MJ) It was never specified, however, whether the magical root could be used only for a single hunt or contest, or whether it might be employed for a whole season, MEDICINE FOR MARKSMANSHIP Another medicine was used to shoot straight, al- though I did not learn its native name. It was effective for basketbaU, "I know a boy from southeastern Alaska. He gradu- ated from coUege. He is thmkmg about his uncle, and about basketbaU dope. And his uncle said, 'If you hve right and take my word, you're gonna make it.' So he takes his uncle's word. He told me aU the story. By the time his uncle made it for him—in 8 months— he feel like he's going to fly. He can catch the baU and put it in the basket from anywhere. And he wins two stripes at coUege. And after, when it was con- demned for biTin—you must destroy it before it's too late—he tried to play basketbaU and he couldn't play it at aU. . . . They wanted to make that medicine for the Yakutat BasketbaU Team, but they wouldn't hve pure 8 months—keep away from their wives and keep clean, and so on." This case was mentioned on another occasion and the young man identified as a resident of Angoon. "He told a story—I don't know if it's true. . . . After the tournament, he put it [the kayani] away. He can't use it. It's dangerous." The same youth was given shooting medicine by his uncle. It is not clear that this was the same as that which he had used for basketbaU, although this was what I inferred, "After, his uncle fix it out for him for seal hunting. He fixed shooting medicine for him. He don't know how he's aiming. He don't even know how he shoot it, but he never miss," "He was a dead shot, shooting. But he got rid of it. Someone hired him [for a hunting party], but he can't shoot anything." "When the seal hunting season opened, then he can't shoot at aU, . . . They say you have to do away with it [the 'medicine'] right away after the event is over. You got to do it the proper way." 'GRABBING MEDICINE' Swanton (1908, p. 447) describes 'grabbing medicine' (dji'yAUAXAc nak"^) that was used by hunters, primarUy for seals and sea otters. The maker had to remain continent for a month, and let no one else touch his urine box. Then he kUled an eagle, from which he cut off the foot, itseff apparently an effective amiUet because of the grasping talons, and tied the medicine flower to it. The eagle's foot might be made to grasp the thwart of a miniature canoe in which was the figure of the hunter aiming at a sea otter. Then when he went out, he took the foot with him and either put it in the same place in his canoe, so that his prey could not escape, or fastened it to a piece of floating wood, so that the sea otter would rise up to be shot. If he blew some of his urine at it, the animal would become con- fused and approach. 'Grabbing medicine,' together with some hairs from the genital region of the deer, might be fastened to a gun barrel. If waved at a deer, this would make the animal come close. 662 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 What was probably the same medicine, although Swanton (1908, p. 446) caUs it 'medicine-that-makes- one-win' (djiyA'naxAc nak"), was a plant that made one angry and successful in revenge. This last was achieved by wrapping up an image of one's enemy with the medicine, a procedure that suggests witchcraft, although it is implied that it wiU simply enable the user to kill his enemy with a weapon, MEDICINE FOR GAME THAT HAS ESCAPED One of my informants described a type of 'medicine' that was used to secure an animal that had escaped from the hunter, (This may have been the same as the 'grabbing medicine' described by Swanton,) "I did prove it. My father had medicine for getting animals that got away. My dad pick up roots. And then some of the things he missed—like a fox that got away when its 'finger' breaks off in the trap—and if it gets out of the snare—he wUl get the same animal that got away the next day, "My father came back and he said, 'WeU, that moun- tain goat got away, I shoot him and he got away. But I have some of his hair,' He put some hair with the root. Then he's walking on the beach. And that goat he shot come right down there. "You have to have something from the animal, like hair, and put it with the [medicine] and [you wUl] get it next time." "GLARE MEDICINE" Another type of 'medicine' was caUed "glare" (kAlik; cf. Boas, 1917, p. 150, kA-yA-lds:, 'to be dizzy'). This was used when rival hunters had sighted the same game and both were racing to secure it. The one who lacked this medicine would be unable to keep up with his rival. The name suggests that he would become dazzled or blinded, feel dizzy, but further detaUs were not learned. 'LAND-OTTER MEDICINE' Swanton (1908, p. 446) mentions'land-otter medicine' (kucta nak") taken when one was "short-winded in one place." Presumably this was useful on hunting trips into the mountains, Dzt'N:s:f MEDICINE Swanton (ibid.) further reports that a flower(?), the name of which was not translated and which grows only where a groundhog lives, gives one the power to kUl animals if carried in one's cheek. SEA-OTTER HUNTING MEDICINE A more elaborate type of 'medicine' for hunting sea otter involved the use of some roots, the kind un- specified. "The men used to get ready to kUl sea otter. Now they can't do it. They made a kind of dope for it. They can teU how many otter they're going to get. At Lituya Bay, [a man named] Qanuk'' [or Qanuk] did it. They take hemlock bark and roots and they're going to make a dope for sea otter. "If I prove [test] it, I stay so many months—8 or 9 months—without my wife. Don't take no water, not sleep too much. Then for 2 or 3 days, he don't eat or drink at aU, "Afterwards he went where there is a swamp, like the viUage lake here where there is always grass. He put the bark on the water like he is washing gold. And he makes a strong \^ish. He lifts it up and sometimes there is a httle rock on it. And then he puts it with the roots. Sometimes he's got four rocks. He can'tgetmore. [See p, 665,] "If I don't do it right, I get crazy inside. Only I don't listen to Dad, I believe in God. They claim the person who had that kayani would have lots of money and luck, but that it would go right into the air." That is, the riches would not last. MEDICINE TO ATTRACT FAVORABLE NOTICE The host who gave a potlatch might use some kind of magical substance to insure that he received the ap- probation of his guests and that the entertainment was successful. "My dad was teUing me. It's some kind of medicine. They take part of the most popular place [as an ingre- dient], hke—Point Latouche—people talks about it all the time. They put it [a piece from the popular place] with that medicine. . . . That's to be noticed." The informant explained that before the Alaska Na- tive Brotherhood Convention which was held at Yaku- tat in 1931, one man made such a medicine with shavings from the church door. "My mother caught Jimmy J shaving out part of the church door frame. He felt guUty, so many years later he told me. He was fixing it for the 1931 Conven- tion, That's why it was nice weather, and the Conven- tion went nicely," It was also said that the native orchestra that used to play for dances in the cannery mess haU used the same 'medicine,' 'HAPPY MEDICINE' Swanton (1908, p. 447) described a 'medicine' which seems to be rather similar to the last. To the plant(?), one adds a piece of wood cut from an old tree on which there is an eagle's nest, (i.e., a conspicuous place?). It is called 'happy medicine' (katu'klA nak", probably qatu yuke nak^ 'one's-insides or feelings are-weU'). It is supposed to make one feel joyful; and if this inter- pretation is correct, it would seem to act on one's self, IN THREE PARTS MEDICINES AND AMULETS 663 rather than on others. One would suppose, however, that it would affect others to make them pleased. In its aUeged mode of action, 'happy medicine' must have been somewhat simUar to that described in the WrangeU story (see p, 577) which enabled one to be- come a great dancer and song composer. The httle sack with this concoction was tied to the top of a tree and therefore acted upon its owner at a distance, whUe it swung in the wind. Perhaps this 'medicine' was the same as that which Swanton's Sitka informant caUed 'enter- tainment medicine.' 'ENTERTAINMENT MEDICINE' What Swanton (1908, p. 447) caUs 'entertainment medicine' (sAgu'yayi nak'^, from si-gu, 'to be happy') was taken by someone who was to be taken as a 'deer' in a peace ceremony, so that he could gladden the hearts of his captors when he "makes sport" for them (pp. 596-602). WEALTH MEDICINE Swanton (1908, p. 446) mentions a flower 4 feet taU with seeds on top, caUed 'flower-hunting-for-a-rich-man' (anqa'wo ga'koct), because it makes a person wealthy. My informants gave the names "money dope" (duwuwEt kayi kayani) and 'caUed-by-the-vUlage medicine' ('ante 'uxux nak^) to plants that were said to attract wealth, I am not sure whether one or two different species were designated, although the second name was certainly apphed to the Siberian spring- beauty (p. 33), and the same technique of employment was described for both. The entire plant should be gathered early in the morning "before breakfast," that is, before the raven caUs at dawn. It is not necessary to address the plant or to leave a gift in its place. The plant, or the root alone, is wrapped in a httle bag or envelope with a sUver doUar, and left outdoors. "When you are ready . . . put it in the bottom of your handbag. It wUl make your bag heavy with money." "It draws the spirit of money to you—the mtentions of the townspeople." (MJ and friend) Apparently the appearance of the root indicates its effectiveness (MJ). As in the case of other magical plants, it must not be kept too long, but must be returned to the ground. When Dr, McCleUan showed an informant a locket containmg a sprig of Scotch heather and jokmgly remarked, "This is my money kayani," the woman, laughmg but a httle shocked, exclauned, "Shame! Gu-ls don't get kayani. That's only for men," She may have been thinking specificaUy of love medicme (see below), which she went on to describe. We should also note that Swanton (1908, p. 446) reports a flower found in the woods with a name very simUar to that of the springbeauty. This is 'medicine- that-teUs-anything-that happens-in-the-town' (a'nto- xox- nak^) because it was supposed to report aU the news. 'LOOKING AT THE SUN MEDICINE' The white bog-orchid (wild hyacinth, p, 33) was caUed 'need kayani'- or *looking-at-the-sun medicine' (gAgan 'Ahtin nak^). It is said of it that no matter how long the sun shines, there is always some dew on the leaves. Guests at a potlatch might carry some of the plant to insure that they would be paid twice, that is, the hosts would give twice to the man who had it, "If they have that, everything in the world is looking up to them. But if they don't hve right, they get sick, have bad luck. But the money they makes, though, that don't last." Swanton (1908, p. 447) also mentions the 'medicine- always-looking-at-the-sun' (gAga'n lati'n nak"^), so caUed because the flower always turns to foUow the sun. This 'medicine' was, however, used in sea-otter hunting, being rubbed on the hunter's body and not washed off untU the end of the season. This again suggests that the same magical plant could be effective in attracting wealth in any form. LOVE MEDICINE 'Loving-each-other medicine' (wutc sixAui nak'^) is the dehcate starflower that blooms in June (p. 32). Again it is the roots that are important, and are said to look like a little man. They must be procured or "looked at" before breakfast, or after fasting aU day. The root is wrapped up with a piece of one's own cloth- ing and something from the clothing of the person one wishes to attract. One man who had a succession of pretty young wives was said to have used it. Although supposedly used only by men, a case was cited in which a native girl successfuUy employed this 'medicine' on a White man. The 'medicine' was aUeged to be good for many things other than love, but these were not specified (MJ, et. al.), Swanton (1908, p. 446) also describes the use of 'loving-each-other medicine' (wuctstxA^nt nak") to make a girl suffer for the love of a suitor whom she has rejected. To the plant are added bubbles from the edge of the water, so that her pain wUl rise with the tide, and earth from her own footprints, so that she wiU foUow him weeping. 'Crying-for medicine' was another love charm, but could be used only by Raven men. According to a WrangeU story (Swanton, 1909, Tale 82, p, 242) it was composed of ants, frogs, blueflies, and "some stuff that looked hke taUow and had a pleasant odor." The 664 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 mash was kept in an eagle quUl; when shaken it would attract any bear, mountain goat, animal, or woman that the owner desired. This 'medicine' was not men- tioned at Yakutat. I should add that a man at Yakutat was reported to have died because the love magic made for him by a woman was improperly handled. This was described as like a case of witchcraft (p, 744), His hair and a piece of his clothing had been wrapped around the root. He might have recovered if those who found the charm had removed these objects of his and then burned or buried the root. However, they broke the root first and then burned the whole charm, so the man died, 'MEDICINE-FROM-FALLEN-TREES' This last form of 'medicine' wUl kUl anyone on whom it is fastened, Swanton (1908, p. 446) caUs it 'medicine- from-faUen-trees' (as L!lq! nak"), and it probably signifies a broken tree ('as I'ix nak"^; cf. Boas, 1917, p. 150, ya-l'Ix, to break). I did not hear of this at Yakutat. Other Amulets The 'medicine' elaborately prepared and put away, especiaUy with the grasping talons of an eagle, a fragment of something that attracted every eye, or with the money one wished to accumulate, has in effect become an amulet. In addition, there are other amulets, not made of medicinal plants, but of different materials. They are caUed 'body-medicine' (danak'^) because they are often used to rub or scratch the body, or 'something to wish on' (wtrxi), As already indicated, no clear line can be drawn between medicines and amulets. 'WISH STONE' The technique for using certain amulets is like that described for 'medicine' to secure game or wealth, or for love magic. This was explained by one informant who was shown an archeological ornament made of a tubular piece of native copper (de Laguna et al 1964, fig- 19, g,i)- "Some old people got their dope in there—the roots they believe are lucky, Somethimes they use it for hunting sea otter. Sometimes before they eat, they use it. We don't use it much [now], but we hear about it. This time we believe in God, but I hear about it. It [the copper tube] is just to keep it [the root]. They tie it up and make a wish for luck." I understood him to suggest that the smaU piece of copper had been used to attract a big piece, "Because copper cost so much, they use a httle of that. There's lots of things they save out of this to make money on." He caUed the root, or the root in the copper tube an amulet (wuxf). When shown a coal bead from the same archeological site (de Laguna et al,, 1964, pi, 17), he faUed to recognize it as a bead, but said: "You tie up that wtrxf with it. They caU it 'wish stone'." These remarks would indicate that the same magical root or amulet might be used to attract both wealth and game animals, especiaUy since fur-bearers were wealth in a very real sense, and that uttering a wish was part of the technique of employment. An amulet (wtrxf, or danak^) was used by the hero, Lkettitc, of Akwe (p. 244). This was given to hun by the grateful slave, who further instructed him to rise before the raven caUed and to wash his head in the river at each end of the viUage, at the same time making a wish for good luck. When asked to explain the meaning of the native word, my informant said: "Wtrxi—It's something from the birds or something. Sometimes a bird—^maybe it's something wrong with his beak or his claws. And he never fly away, but just [let you] examine it and fix it up. And then it flies away, and you dream or something. Early in the morning, you go over there where he tell you. And sometimes they drop something—something funny that doesn't exist, that brings you luck." An incident was also recorded (p. 709) in which a smaU stone from the lowest tide level was given by a shaman to an aUing girl as an amulet. This she lost, but it was later returned to her by an eagle, presumably the shaman's spirit (yek), for there is no indication that this bird had been befriended. The nature of that mysterious substance, copper, was revealed to an Atna youth because a spirit pitied him and because he fed the birds (see pp, 899-900), A stone from the level of the lowest tide (cAuya teyi) was apparently a potent object; it was from swallowing such a rock that Raven's mother became pregnant (p, 844). One wonders whether rubbing amulets (see below, pp, 666-667) were usuaUy made of such beach stones, AMULETS FROM ANIMALS OR BIRDS The necklaces and neck charms worn by shamans were aU amulets (p. 689), and we should note that these were often made of carved bone or ivory. The tooth of a brown bear was considered a powerful amulet of this type because it came from such a power- ful animal. The animal tongues, bear jaws, eagle talons, etc, in shamans' neck bundles are, of course, especiaUy potent amulets (p, 695). Swanton (1908, p, 447) reports that in southeastern Alaska the bezoar stone (dana'k) found in a deer was used by men as an amulet for deer hunting. This animal, it wiU be remembered, was not native to Yakutat, There is, however, some hint that the Yakutat people used stones from sea lion stomachs as amulets. IN THREE PARTS MEDICINES AND AMULETS 665 If one finds the next of a hummingbird (stAgAtglya) with its four tiny eggs, one wUl become rich. The neat way in which the nest is made was admired by my informant, but it is not clear whether the nest and contents were saved. The magic bone, presumed to have been that of a mountain goat, and containing a magical plant (though invisible to the ordinary eye), was in effect an amulet which enabled Dry Bay Chief George, his son, and granddaughter to compose songs (p, 577), It had originally been procured from a shaman. 'FIREWOOD EGGS' Swanton (1908, p. 448) describes an extraordinary type of amulet, 'firewood eggs' (^An kaha'gu), so-caUed because they resembled eight large soft dog salmon eggs, and might be found when chopping firewood. The finder would immediately take them home, put them outside over the door, and wash his head, hands, and feet in urine. He had to fast and remain continent for some time, or the eggs would disappear. If treated properly, these amulets brought wealth. It wUl be remembered that a sea-otter hunting medicine, described by a Yakutat informant, involved the scooping up on a piece of bark of four little rocks (p, 662). These may weU have been simUar to the amulets caUed 'firewood eggs' and the 'Sun's excrement.' 'SUN'S EXCREMENT' The maternal grandfather of two of my informants, Lusxox of Coward House, is supposed to have owed his good fortune to the possession of four amulets (danak"^) that were believed to be the excrement of the Sun (gAgan hatl'i). That there may have been some connection between this type of amulet and the Teqwedi sib is suggested by the fact that the name, 'Excrement Medicine' (Hatl'is nak''), belonged to the Bear House branch of this sib at Yakutat; it was, in fact, borne by the brother of ^adenek. The amiUets were described as like shiny marbles or goK baUs, golden in color, with speckles. As the granddaughter of Lusxox explained: "He runs across that in a nest on the gravel." "He goes in the woods and mooch about on the island, hunt- ing. That thing is like somebody put it in front of him. It's a nest with nice little golden things in it. There's no such a thing as God at that time. He bring it home. He don't know what to do with it. The reason he thought of it was he find that thing where there's no birds or anything to make a nest. That's why he's sus- picious and bring it home. ... He had that a long time. That's how come he have a big canoe of his own, and five slaves, and a big house of his own. It's just from that box, they believe it." (MJ) The four amulets were kept in a httle wooden box, about 3 to 6 inches square, tied up tight. With them were put sea otter fur, or the hair of any other game animal he wanted to kUl, as weU as bits of calico, wool from clothing, bits of new blankets—"anything he wish for." No one was aUowed to look inside, although the informant as a httle girl once managed to catch a glimpse when her grandfather opened the box. The box was kept in a sack, hanging from the rafters, so the chUdren could not get at it. It was taken outdoors to preserve the "strength" of the amulets whenever one of the women in the house was menstruating, "because it's so particular," Before opening the box, the owner had to bathe, fast, and abstain from drinking water for 1 to 2 or 3 days in advance. He would wash thoroughly in a steam bath, go to the sea and bathe in salt water, wash his head, and finaUy rinse off in fresh water. This was done early in the morning before the raven caUed. Then, stUl before dawn, he would open the box and wish for luck. It was presumably at this time that the fur or bits of cloth were put with the amulets. The informant did not know what her grandfather said because he had to be alone when he uttered his wish. There was always a certain day of the month when he opened the box, but his grandchUdren do not re- member which it was. He did this before he went sea otter hunting and this was why he always came home with one or more (MJ, CW), Possibly these httle egglike objects were the fruits of a tropical plant, which are sometimes found in Alaskan waters and are esteemed by the Chugach and Koniag Eskimo as amulets. The way in which the Chugach use these is very simUar to that described by my Yakutat informants (Birket-Smith, 1953, p. 32). Kathan, the KiksAdi chief of Sitka, had a smaU box (dana'kMaki't, i.e., danak'^ dakEt, 'medicine box') that contained various wealth-bringing substances, formerly including the Sun's manure (Swanton, 1908, p. 448). Before opening it, the owner had to have been chaste for 4 months, and fast for 7 days. Each day he would wade naked out to sea over his depth, returning before the raven caUed. He would blow into the box through one of eight tiny holes, and suck out. On the eighth day he spread the charms in the box over aU his valuable furs. From two grease boxes near the fire, he put some grease on his head, and some in the fire to "feed" the amulets. He gestured toward them, put his hands to his face and blew out, uttering the wish: "Let me be wealthy. Let me have five slaves," Then he put the amulets away with bits of beaver and marten fur (the wealth he hoped to acquire), and when it was broad dayhght, he distributed the rest of the grease to other houses, and broke his fast. 666 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 Swanton does not know what the box actuaUy con- tained, but reports that if one obtained the foam from where a GunaqAdEt had emerged, this would be in- cluded. This creature is a wealth-bringing sea being (pp, 820-821), My own informants mentioned the cherishing of the scab from a scratch made by Property- Woman as a simUarly potent amulet (see p. 821). Such an amulet box would be inherited from uncle to nephew as an important lineage heirloom, bringing material wealth to the house. However, if the rules for handhng the medicines in it were not properly observed these would vanish from the box, and the possessor would become poorer than ever before (see also Swanton, 1908, p. 448). SCRATCHING AMULETS Just as the adolescent girl, the widow, and the peace hostage used a rock to scratch themselves and to rub ritually around their mouths (pp. 521, 538, 598), so do other persons who are concerned lest they "make trouble with their mouths." Hunters also had a rock to scratch an itch on their bodies (p. 363). Such a stone was caUed a 'body-scratcher' (daxlsA), or a 'mouth stone' (kAiadat teyi; probably qa-:ia-dat 'around someone's mouth,' teyi 'stone-of'). It is not clear whether these two terms designate two special stones or one with two functions: one, to protect the user from the contaminating touch of his or her own fingernails; the other, to prevent gossip. "It makes their lips lazy, and their tongues heavy as a rock, so they wouldn't cause trouble with their mouths—war" (MJ). It seems to be impossible to determine just when or by whom such rubbing stones were used (other than the special persons mentioned above). Thus, one old man said: "When you eat, clean your mouth," and he rubbed his hps. "Big shot—'anyAdi—boys sometimes used it, SmaU boys wear it on a string around their necks , , , and girls, too. I'm baptized now, and wear a cross." (JR) The purpose of the stone, he told me, was so they would become "just like you, kind to everybody. They would say, 'I don't want to say bad talk to anybody'— Just like pray to God—'Please, I don't want to make mistake.' " (JR) The natives of Lituya Bay evidently used such mouth amulets, for LaPerouse (1799, vol. 1, p. 401) reports of the men that: "Their teeth are filed down to the gums by means of a rounded piece of sandstone in the shape of a tongue." The use of the rubbing or scratching stone in time of personal crisis was also to protect one's own life. "They're scared to use their fingernaUs" (JR), al- though he did not make clear to whom he referred. "This rock . . . some women use it for their lips, so they wUl have good lips, not talk too much. And they use it for scratching themselves. If they use their hands it wiU poison them," a woman reported. One old CAnkuqedi woman who had "married into Dry Bay" from the interior was said to have used such a scratcher. "She had a stone with a hole through it, hung around her neck, and when she itched she rubbed herself with it." "They do that to make themselves live a long time" (MJ). At Angoon in southeastern Alaska, I was told that many persons wore such rubbing amulets, given to them by the shamans (de Laguna, 1960, p, 123). Kathan at Sitka had a smaU piece of jade suspended on a thong which had been used by a 'deer' or peace hostage as a scratcher. For him to use his fingers would be fatal (Swanton, 1908, p, 451), Professor Libbey obtained three scratching charms from the natives of Port Mulgrave in 1886. These are about 4 to 6 cm, in length, are made of slate or a simi- lar stone, and have a hole for suspension. One shaped like a "copper" has a lead eye at one end, and is in- cised on one side with the figure of a seated or squatting manikin (perhaps the Teqwedi's ChUdren of the Sun) (pi, 136). Another, like the upper part of a "copper" which has been cut in two, has the engraved figure of an eagle on one side, and a shark or sculpin on the other, probably the Teqwedi Eagle and Shark crests (pi, 136; cf, WardweU, 1964, p, 62, no, 153), The thu-d, hung on a braided cord, has a geometric design (pi, 137). Seton-Karr (1887, p, 60) has described these: "Some one else had bought for a few cents a charm hung on a string and resembling a smaU whetstone. The use of this for a long time rested a mystery untU our Tlingit interpreter discovered that, during the three days previous to starting out on seahng, the Yakutat Indians are not to scratch their backs with the hand, but when the irritation becomes absolutely unendurable they may use such stones as these like scrapers. Any man violating this rule wUl probably be drowned—accidentaUy." Although unpierced, I have interpreted the incised pebbles from sites in the Angoon and Yakutat areas as rubbing amulets (de Laguna, 1960, pp, 122-125; de Laguna et al,, 1964, pp, 168-172). Insofar as we can interpret the designs, these represent masked anthropo- morphic figures, perhaps shamans' yek(?). Swanton noted that shamans wore small stones with which to scratch their heads (quoted, p, 689). Emmons also obtained at least two specimens at Yakutat which he cataloged as "stone amulet or scratcher—tes-sate." One was a natural claystone, simUar to those he had seen in the Stikine country IN THREE PARTS MEDICINES AND AMULETS 667 (AMNH E/148, discarded), the other (E/751) is of ornamented black slate. He reported that such a stone would be "worn around the neck as a charm against witchcraft, and used to scratch the body with," The Land Otter Hair Amulet [Told July 19, 1952; somewhat edited. The informant had just identified a lump of coal from the site on Knight Island (de Laguna et al,, 1964, pi, 17, i-bb) as a "luck stone," or amulet,] You tie up your wiTxf with it, Wtrxi is luck. My aunt used to have things that look like your hair [i.e., blond or brown, like that of CMcC or FdeL]. They call it kucdaqa cAxawu [Land Otter Man's head hair], . . . BUly Jackson [Watsuq, 1883-1951] had it before he died . . . B. A. Jack [Watsl±, 1860-1949] used to have it. After he's gone and died, I don't know what happened to it. . . . It was way up the Copper River. My uncle left my aunt there when he went out hunting. He left her with just the kids. Then just at once she heard things—tapping— u u u u, ps ps ps ps. She locked the house. She was scared because she was alone there. Pretty soon she don't know herself; she fainted. She tied the baby to her chest against her, because she's [afraid she's] going to lose the baby [that the Land Otter Men would steal it; cf, p. 744], She fainted again. And the third time. She thinks she's going to lose the baby. Then she sees it stays right by where the fire burns. It looks hke a woman to her, that kucda-qa [Land Otter Man], That thing looked like a woman with thick bushy hair. My aunty said to the woman: " 'lean xAt! [Pity me]. You're a woman just like me. I stay here waiting for my old man." She talked to that kucda-qa, "Try to wish me good luck. Wish good luck for me somehow. I can't do nothing to you. 'lean xAt! I wish you give me good luck. Don't bother me," she told her. Then the last time, she don't know herseK, Four times [she fainted], her left hand close up tight. This time when she opens her hand, she got hair in her hands. She looks at it. It's like kucda hair. The natives never had red or blond hair. The next day she wake up, and she don't eat. And she don't feed the kid, too, tUl late. Even the httle kids in the old times [had to fast]—^just to wish for luck. The old folks can't eat when they wish for luck. . . . If you wish for money with that thing, you keep money with it. Or if you wish for a boat, you keep part of a boat with it, CaU it wijxf. Before the raven makes a noise, you go in the water with it. That hair they used to have, they keep it in a special box. If you wish for lots of fish, then you put dried fish in with it. . . . 265-517—72—vol. VII, pt. 2- -10 Shamanism INTRODUCTION The Shaman The shaman ('ixt) is the intermediary between men and the forces of nature. He cures the sick, controls the weather, brings success in war and on the hunt, fore- teUs the future, communicates with coUeagues at a distance, receives news about those who are far away, finds and restores to their famUies those who are lost and captured by the Land Otter Men, reveals and over- throws the fiendish machinations of witches, and makes pubhc demonstrations of his powers in many awe-in- spiring ways. He is the most powerful figure in his own lineage, or sometimes even in his sib. Though his fame may have spread far to foreign tribes, he is seldom con- sulted when those of his own line are sick and dying, for these he cannot save. Nor can he save his own chUdren if they are bewitched. His patients are inevi- tably members of another sib, often residents in another vUlage. His professional rivals may be coUeagues in any sib except his own; his most deadly enemies, like those of any Tlingit, are the traitor witches who lurk among his closest relatives. The shaman practices his profession because he con- trols and is inspired by supernatural spirits (yek). They have been inherited from a predecessor, usuaUy an uncle or older brother, although some shamans obtain new ones of their own. Such spirits, each of whom has a personal name, a special song, and associated regalia in the "outfit" or costume of the shaman, his "master," wUl be passed on from one shaman to another in the maternal line. Stories of especiaUy great "doctors" tell how new spirits have been acquired. At the death of a shaman, his attendant spirits remain ia association with his "outfit" and with his corpse, where his own spirit (or ghost) also waits to choose his successor. This wUl be some junior relative, man or woman, who has come in contact with his paraphernalia or come close to his body when, as is customary, they supervise the con- struction or repair of his grave house. I do not know whether a nephew or younger brother can refuse to participate in such a dangerous duty, or whether such refusal would protect him from exposure to the dead shaman's influence. In any case, however, once selected by the spirits, to refuse the caU means serious Ulness, and often death. On the other hand, some have defi- nitely sought the spirits, or have valued their unsoli- cited coming as a great blessing. Although shamanism is an involuntary calling, the success with which it is carried out, the number of yek involved and the power of the shaman, aU depend upon himself, his courage, 670 skUl, fortitude, undeviating adherence to taboos, and luck. To practice his caUing, the shaman needs one or more assistants, invariably members of his own sib, but not necessarUy of his own lineage or house. His closest as- sistant or "helper," ('ixtJ xan qawu, or du XAU qawu, 'the one with the doctor,' or 'with hun'), was caUed by one informant his "sidekick or stooge," because the shaman makes use of him in demonstrations of his power. His assistant is his "partner," at aU times closely associated with him, observing his regimen and accom- panying him to watch over him on those exhausting retreats into the wUderness on which he obtains new spirits or consolidates his powers. The shaman's assist- ant may sometimes become a shaman himself. The assistant may also care for the doctor's paraphernalia, or be sent to fetch it, since such dangerously power- charged objects are usuaUy cached outside the house and the viUage, Another assistant usuaUy beats the drum duriag seances, although "aU of his people," that is, aU the men of his own sib or house, assist the shaman by singing his song and beating time, thereby strength- ening his powers. To keep himself a fit receptacle of the spirits, the shaman must observe a strict regimen of prolonged fasting, thirsting, purging, and sexual ab- stiuence, and he is forbidden to cut or comb his hair. In addition to regular shamans, there are others who have lesser powers or skUls of the same kind. These might be a daughter to whom the shaman has taught a little of his own healing craft, a relative or descendant whom his spirits have temporarUy touched, or a nephew who has acquired some power of his own through asso- ciation with his uncle's shamanistic paraphernalia. Other relatives of a shaman may share in the latter's abUity to "feel" bad luck approaching. Perhaps such persons are especiaUy phenomena of modern tunes when the true shaman has disappeared but, more hkely, even in the old days there were individuals with varying de- grees of supernatural power and curative abUity, so that it was impossible to draw a sharp line between "Indian doctor" and layman. The shaman was usuaUy a man, although a few were women. Some shamans were house heads or close rela- tives of a chief, WhUe I have not heard of any who were sib chiefs, this would not have been impossible. One at least, Xatgawet, was wealthy, but it may be sig- nificant that his wealth came from marriage, not from his practice. Although one had to give the doctor good pay for his services, there was no indication that shamanism was itself a lucrative profession through which a man might become rich. It did, however, bring IN THREE PARTS SHAMANISM 671 awesome power, and prestige tinged with horror. Shamans were intensely jealous of each other. Persons hving today in Yakutat have heard the eye- witness accounts of their parents who saw demon- strated the powers of shamans now long dead. There are even a few individuals stUl alive who themselves knew the last shamans, or saw their miraculous feats. It is acknowledged that not aU shamans had all the powers they clauned, yet to make false boasts was to invite attack by stronger rivals. "And there's some false ones—they don't last long," a woman remarked, "And there's some that's real," "AU the doctors die off when the White people came, because nobody believe it any more." Known Shamans Most of the specific information about shamanism in the Yakutat area was obtained in the form of stories about particular individual shamans. Some of these were the legendary figures of the past, especiaUy the Teqwedi Xatgawet and the K'^ackqwan woman, Daxodzu, but most stories concerned doctors who had lived at the end of the 19th century. Of these, the most was learned about Tek-'ic, 'Little Stone's Father,' also caUed LxaguSa, 'TeUs about War,' a Teqwedi shaman who was head of Bear House on Khantaak Island (pi. 65). Tek-'ic was apparently born in 1830 or a little earher, for he was the oldest brother of Ca-kuwakan (Jack Shaw-coo-kawn, 1831-99), and he died about 1890, It is, however, impossible to fix the date of his death accurately. Thus we are told that he died after receiving the news of the death of Daqusetc or Chief Minaman, and the latter's tombstone is dated 1890, Yet Tek-'ic's younger brother, I$!adanek Johnstone, is supposed to have cared for his body, although the latter's tombstone is dated 1888, Both stones were undoubtedly procured some time after the deaths of these men (Johnstone's after 1901, and Chief Minaman's probably at the time of his memorial potlatch in Sitka, December 1904), so it is possible that mistakes were made in the dates. Johnstone's daughter (MJ) men- tioned several times that her father had worked on or been present at the buUding of the grave house for Tek-'ic, and that she herself as a chUd saw the shaman's dead body on this occasion. Possibly she may have referred to her stepfather, not her father, or may have confused the buUding of the grave house for the predecessor of Tek-'ic with the time when the latter's body was placed in the same structure. Or she may refer to later repairs on the grave house. We know a good deal about Tek-'ic because two of my informants (MJ and CW), the son and daughter of his younger brother, had known him in their chUdhood and had seen him practice; their father had accom- panied him on some of his retreats. Two additional informants were the sons of the shaman's nephews; their fathers as very young boys, had also served as his assistants. Tek-'ic was the last of a line of Bear House Teqwedi shamans who had inherited their powers from the famous Xatgawet. His immediate predecessor was his uncle, QadJAqdaqina, whose unrevenged death up the Situk River had led to the buUding of Coward House at Situk (p, 320). From this uncle, Tek-'ic had inherited his spirits and his paraphernaha and, as already stated, at his death was put into the same gravehouse with him near the then abandoned site of Diyaguna'Et on Lost River. This structure was repaired or restored at least once. On one occasion, his son, Tom Coxe (pi. 90), was supposed to have painted a bear design on the grave house. StiU later (about 1900?), Jim Kardeetoo (1862-1937), who had been one of his assistants and would normaUy have been his successor, had his uncle and his most dangerous paraphernalia buried in the ground. This effectively put an end to this line of shamans, even though Kardeetoo himseK (pi. 86) had some shama- nistic powers. These were due to his close association with his uncle, and to his inheritance of some items used by Tek-'ic. The objects were eventually sold to the missionary. Reverend Axelson. At the height of his practice, Tek-'ic had as principal assistant Skin Canoe George "Ki-ye-quart-kene," or ^^eyegatqin (1855-1900). In addition to Jim Kardeetoo, another nephew, Situk Harry (died 1945), as a boy once accompanied him on a spirit quest. An equaUy important shaman was the Thik^axAdi man, Gutc-da, 'Wolf-Weasel,' or "Wolf Turning into Weasel," i.e., becoming white. He may have been head of Far Out House at Dry Bay. At any event, he was the most famous of a line of Tluk^axAdi shamans at Akwe River and Dry Bay. He died after Tek-'ic, probably about 1899 or 1900, He was known personaUy to some of my informants, and had been seen practicing at Yakutat when he was hired to discover who was witching Sitka Ned, then head of Coward House in the Old ViUage, A nephew of Gutcda was the father of one of my informants. The shaman had inherited his power from his uncle GxmanistE, and the latter in turn had obtained it from his older "brother," SEtAu (his mother's sister's son). My informant's father's younger brothers were also named Qunanists and Qutcda after their uncles, and perhaps one or another of them would have inherited their power if they had not all died when very young. The younger GunanistE, who was married as a youth to Qutcda's 672 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 widow, CAk^ense, then 60 years old, drowned about 1902 in an epUeptic(?) seizure (p. 603). Although John WiUiams Sr. was named SEtAU, it was his sister, Sigege, who received the shaman's spirit in 1909, when the grave house was repaired for the older Qutcda and QunanistE (see pp. 646, 719). A stUl older shaman in this line was the GAx-tlen, 'Big Rabbit,' who had his wife's hair cut because she cried too much (p. 276). One of the names of my informant's father was also GAx-tlen. I do not know, however, whether Qutcda had the same spirits as the shaman GAxtlen, or how they may have been related. It should be noted that many members of this famUy, including their chUdren in other sibs, seem to have been susceptible to shamanistic influences. Qutcda was a great traveler, and used to walk up the Alsek vaUey and over the interior route to Chilkat, paddling back to Dry Bay via Lynn Canal and Icy Straits. His two wives were both CAnkuqedi woman, one of whom, Ctukoka, he had married in the interior. His fame is stUl remembered by the Southern Tutchone of the Alsek headwaters. There is considerable difl&culty in establishing the dates on which SEtAU and Qutcda died, probably because the names were inherited (along with the powers) by several shamans in the same famUy line. For example, in 1888 the American Museum of Natural History purchased from Lieutenant Emmons coUections which he had made in Alaska between 1882 and 1887. These included the masks and other objects from the grave houses of shamans at Akwe River and Dry Bay, two of whom were named "Sa-ton" (SEtAu) and "Koutch-tar" (Qutcda), The first coUection (pis, 187- 190) Emmons reported had come from a very old grave house near a deserted viUage on the Akwe River, and consisted of some objects which had been inherited by five generations of shamans, whUe other items had been added from time to time. The masks, for example, were very old and decayed. The grave house of "Koutch- tar" was on Dry Bay near the mouth of the Alsek River, and contained some objects which had passed through the hands of three previous shamans, as weU as newer items (pis, 190-193). Emmons records that this shaman had been "very powerful" and had died "a few years previous to his visit" (about 1885), It is therefore impossible for Emmons' "Koutch-tar" to be the same man as the Qutcda who came to Yakutat after the mission had been established. Probably many of the exploits of the earher shaman (or shamans) of that name were attributed to his successor. We might note in this connection that the name, SEtAU, was properly that of the shaman's principal spirit, which the shaman had adopted as his own. Was this also true of 'Wolf- Weasel' (Qutcda) and 'Big Rabbit' (GAx-tlen)? I also learned something about shamans in other sibs. One of these was the Qalyix-Kagwantan woman, Cak'^e, sister to Chief 'Axaqudulu, head of Beaver House on ControUer Bay. There were said to have been many women shamans at KataUa. There is reason to beheve that Mary, or Qu'ya, the Qalyix-Kagwantan wife of Ckman, Tl'uknaxAdi head of Boulder House in the Old VUlage, had shamanistic powers, although I know nothing further about these. According to Harrington's informant: "They used to say the best doctors of aU were up the Copper River." A male shaman from Copper River was mentioned as having come to Yakutat, where he demonstrated his powers to Tek-'ic. It wUl also be remembered that Abercrombie in 1884 reports (see p. 186) that a Yakutat shaman, aged 50 (Tek-'ic?) had paralyzed a rival Tlingit shaman, then hving among the Eyak at Alaganik (cf. the shaman, Kai, Birket-Smith and de Laguna, 1938, pp. 226-228). A famous female shaman was Daxodzu, sister to the K'^ackqwan chief, Yaxodaqet. She is said to have predicted the coming of the Russians and to have made her brother an invincible hunter (see pp. 712-713). Other K'^ackqwan shamans, supposedly her successors (and aU male), I know only by name: DanAq-'ic, Liigiiwu, and Ceq the last of the line. Liiguwii or Luguwe was supposed to have been a rival of Tek-'ic, and on one occasion overcame him in a power demonstration. The account was, however, impossible to foUow in the absence of an interpreter. I gather that the trouble experienced by Tek-'ic on that occasion was due to some mistake made by his assistant, Situk Harry, then a boy, when they were seeking power in the woods on an 8-day quest. A Kagwantan doctor who acquired his powers during the smaUpox epidemic (presumably that of 1836-39) was QAlAxetl or Ltune^. His daughter's son's daughter sang two of his songs for the tape recorder and told his story (p. 713). Another Kagwantan doctor mentioned was Teci-'ic or TAci-'ic of Sitka, a rival of Tek-'ic, He is reported to have lived during Russian times and also to have helped the Kagwantan in their revenge on the WrangeU people (C^tqwan) in 1852, by defeating the WrangeU shaman. I was also told about a female shaman of WrangeU who was defeated by a Sitkan (p, 715). Nothing was learned about Tl'uknasLAdi shamans, except for the one mentioned in the story of the war with the Tlaxayik-Teqwedi (pp. 263, 264). As one informant remarked: "I don't remember any Tl'uknaxAdi, either. Maybe I just don't know. The Tl'uknaxAdi is more travehng people. They went back and forth." It is not possible to establish the identity or sib affiliation of the blind shaman whom Seton-Karr IN THREE PARTS SHAMANISM 673 and Professor Libbey observed practicing on Khantaak Island m 1886 (see pp. 720-721). Nor could I identify "Old Shata, the Alseck medicine-man," visited by Glave at Dry Bay in 1890, nor the Qunana doctor who had accompanied Glave and Dalton to Dry Bay from Neskatahin on the upper Alsek River (pp. 203-204). BECOMING A SHAMAN The Death of a Shaman and the New Shaman When a shaman died, and before his body was taken to its final resting place, it was carried around inside the house, eight times, sunwise, and then taken out head first through an opening in the right side of the house made by the removal of some planks. This was done so that his spirit would soon return. His para- phernalia were not put in the grave house with him, it was said, but were kept for the use of his successor or to inspire the latter. In many cases, however, witness the innumerable caches of shaman's gravegoods made by Lieutenant Emmons, the cache of the dead doctor's outfit was located in his grave house. The body of the shaman was not burned, like that of an ordinary person, but was kept above ground, I was told that it was not put into a box but was laid out, as if sleeping, on a board about 3 inches thick, and this was put into the grave house. Sometimes, as in the case of QadJAqdaqina and Tek-'ic at Diyaguna'Et, and of Qutcda and QunanistE at Dry Bay, two sha- mans might share the same grave house. This was usuaUy a smaU gabled structure elevated on four posts. At one time long ago, it was said, the body might be laid out in a cave (cf. de Laguna et al,, 1964, pp. 35-36 for shaman's grave on Knight Island). The doctor's body never rotted, but simply dried up, nor did it have a bad stench. Even though the flesh shrank away, the dried skin would hold the bones to- gether, and the corpse "just turns into mummy." The remains of shamans are indefinitely preserved, being gathered up and transferred to a new grave house as the old one becomes dUapidated. This might be done at the same time that a lineage house was buUt or re- buUt, so that the same potlatch covered both events. This was what was done by Qawusa, Tl'uknaxAdi chief at Dry Bay, when in 1909 he had new grave houses buUt for the remains of Qutcda and other shamans, and also buUt Far Out or Frog House (see pp. 644-646). Such occasions were especiaUy propitious for the crea- tion of a new shaman. In fact, all of the ritual surround- ing the funeral of a shaman and the subsequent care of his corpse was to enable his spirit to return to a successor, and to protect ordinary people from his baleful influence (cf. Swanton, 1908, p, 466),^* A new shaman becomes one through infection by the spirit or power of a dead shaman in his own sib, usuaUy a close relative. This comes from going near the corpse or grave house, or from handling the sha- manistic paraphernaha. Therefore, when a shaman died, it was customary for his nephews to be present at the ensepulture of his remains, or to participate in the attendant mourning ceremonies, although members of the opposite moiety actuaUy handled the corpse and prepared the grave house. The "opposites" also were caUed upon when the remains had to be transferred to a new structure. On such dangerous occasions, aU par- ticipants of both moieties, as weU as their spouses, observed taboos against eating and drinking for 8 days. Several persons of the correct sib were usuaUy affected by the shamanistic powers to some extent, although only one actuaUy became a shaman at that time. One informant beheved that the shaman's hair was cut and handed to his nephews, one after the other, to see who would get the spirit. Perhaps only a single lock was so used, since several informants reported that the shaman's long hair continued to grow in the grave house. On the other hand, we know that the scalps of notable men were saved, and at Klukwan in 1949, the scalp of a curly-haired shaman who had died a few years before was being kept among the lineage treas- ures in one house. This was shown to the men with me, but the hd of the trunk in which it was stored was raised so that I did not see it (possibly to protect me from a spirit intrusion, since women are particularly susceptible to such afflictions, especiaUy from a shaman of another sib). Some persons are so 'sohd inside' (tudak siduk) that "there's nothing can get in them." So handling the hair ^* However, according to Krause (1956, p, 196, based upou Veniaminov and Holmberg), the shaman "seldom inherits the spirits of ancestors, but they do occasionally appear to him and then the shaman makes a practice of entertaining them cor- dially." This is at variance with my information. 674 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 "doesn't work; it doesn't affect them." While others, who "don't live right," i.e., have not prepared them- selves properly, also fail to receive the spirit. But even for the one chosen, "it don't happen right away. It takes time." If there were no one in his own hneage or sib to whom the deceased shaman's spirit could come, it might come to his child. "Rarely, if a man had no suitable clansman, his spirits would pass to his son" (Swanton, 1908, p. 466). This is why an informant suggested of Qutcda's yek (spirit): "After Qutcda, [if] there's no- body it can go to, it goes to QaldJAqe [David Dick], and then Jack Peterson, would get it next. QaldJAqe and his younger brother. Jack Peterson, were true sons of Qutcda and his wife, CAk^ense," Both were heads of the CAnkuqedi Thunderbird Houses at Dry Bay and Yakutat. Even the child of Qutcda's nephew was somewhat affected by his spirit. Krause, citing Veniaminov, reports (1956, p. 195) that although the shaman seldom inherits the spirits of his ancestors, "The position of shaman is usuaUy inherited by a son or grandson, with the masks, drums, etc," He mentions a shaman who had two sons: one wanted to become a shaman but was unable to see a spirit; the other was plagued with them, and even "went to the women" to get rid of them, but finaUy yielded to the spirits, "He then became a very famous shaman at Yakutat, whose influence prevented the great smaUpox epidemic of 1836 from reaching his people." Infection by the spirit or power of a dead shaman manifests itself as an illness, even in the one who wel- comes it. The unwUling recipients of such power "always have the hardest time," This is the way it always starts, untU the power is accepted and controlled, "untU it starts working right. It bothers them. That's why they call it 'AnElsin, 'hiding—it hides inside.' " This is con- ceived as something actuaUy inside the body. "If you go around anything that used to belong to 'ixt' [shaman]—that's qut'awulisi—'It gets into some- body,' but the person doesn't know it. It bothers you. You get sick untU you do just like those 'ixtJ do, and turn into 'ixt. And then you're aU right. It's his yek that gets into you—du yegi [his spirit], Kucda [land otter] is the same as that. Some way it gets into them. It's not a real land otter, just a spirit—like kucda yek, but to make it short, you just say 'yek,' " The power or spirit that has come in this fashion to the future shaman is "always caUed kucda [land otter]." It is the yek or spirit that wants him to become a doctor. "That 'AUEISIU starts to work on them first, then they get the spirits," There is nothing one can do but accept the caU, for even if a man refuses to become a doctor, "that thing's always hiding in him, [he] just can't get rid of it," Sometimes, of course, those who have received the call, "don't take care of themselves," in which case they faU to develop any power. The proper "cure" is to "go out in the woods and cut a tongue," that is, to go out on a quest to meet and cut the tongues of the animals from whom the new shaman wUl derive power, AU informants stressed the dangers involved in the approach to a shaman's grave house or in touching his paraphernaha for the one who was not authorized to do so, and especiaUy for one not ritually prepared. In such cases, even inadvertent contact or propinquity might prove fatal. Jack EUis (1892-1952) explained that when he was very young the doctor's grave on Lost River (i.e., that of Tek-'ic) was last repaired. It was dangerous to go near such a place, "because something gets in you and makes you die soon. You have to prepare, get ready, to go near, by keeping away from women and not eating for 4 or 8 days." He guessed that this affects Indians because they beheve in it, not Whites who don't get scared. Gallstones and tumors were called 'AnElsin, not kucda, and were attributed to inadvertent or unauthor- ized contact with shamanistic things. These growths usuaUy took the form of the shaman's paraphernaha which had been handled (see below), although they might not manifest themselves until years later, and might or might not be removable by another Indian doctor or by a White surgeon. These tumors are not, in any case, the sign that the patient is becoming a shaman, Swanton (1908, pp. 466-^67) reports simUar fears of sickness and of tumors(?) in the beUy from approach- ing a shaman's grave. However, when passing in a canoe the point or island on which a shaman's grave house is located, the Tlingit usually put food and tobacco into the water for him, praying for luck, long life, favorable winds, etc. (see also Olson, 1962, p. 211). "Nobody is born to be an Indian doctor. They got to do certain things. "Any man wants to be a good Indian doctor has to go in the woods. He has another man to watch over him and take care of him—his sidekick, 'ixt' xanqawu. Sometimes he [the latter] would become a doctor him- self, if he wanted to. Any tribe, when an Indian doctor dies, his nearest relative, brother or nephew, has to become an Indian doctor himself, whether he likes it or not." (SJ) It was denied that there was any way of predicting when a chUd was born that he would become a shaman. "A person was never born to it. You got to live right and do the right thing's, . . . You just have to live right . . . and the people just watch to see how he's going to be." IN THREE PARTS SHAMANISM 675 The correct conduct of the one who was becoming a shaman was of the greatest importance, because a mis- take would bring "bad luck, hardship, mostly troubles," to "the whole tribe [sib]." The rules that he had to foUow as a novice were probably the same as those which were to govern his conduct throughout his life, "He can't do no evil stuff, has to obey ha kina yegi [ 'our spirit above' ], watch how his food, watch how he sleeps, watch how he drinks his water—there's lots of things." It was not an easy life, and there were some who risked much to refuse the caU (see pp. 719-720). Receiving the Call The future shaman begins to get sick and to exhibit signs—"shaman signs." These are like having a sei- zure. "That's something that makes you go crazy," as PL put it. He becomes dizzy, faUs unconscious, and may foam at the mouth. Then too, he may have pre- monitions or "feelings," probably the first stirrings of those clearer convictions about coming events which he wUl have when his powers are stronger, I believe that his dreams also become more impressive and significant. These seizures are simUar to those which he wUl experience when he is practicing. "When they get that Indian doctor spirit—just like he's drunk, he don't know himself. That's that Indian doctor spirit he got. That's the time." The spirit may come unbidden, without the usual preliminary of frenzied running around the fire. The novice might simply "feel" its presence, then don his "Indian doctor's clothes," i.e., those of his predecessor, and his people would begin to sing his spirit song, beating out the rhythm with tapping sticks. Although my informant's explanation was confused, I infer that such a first appearance of the spirit might be to warn of some impending disaster, just as the spirit might later come of its own accord to the established shaman when danger threatened. A more usual procedure was for the spirit to be in- voked; i.e., caUed or invited to the house to choose and inspire the successor of the dead shaman. 'Spirit assistants' (yek xanqawu) stood outside the door and caUed "hi—, hi—," or some simUar cry. According to Swanton, aU the men, women, and chUdren, belonging to the dead doctor's sib, would be gathered in the house, fasting and waiting, and a specially selected youth would go outside and announce that such-and- such a particular spirit was coming in. Then the people started the song associated with that spirit, and while they were singing, the future shaman feU into a trance (1908, p. 466). As an informant explained, people could teU when someone was becoming a doctor, because of his song: "If that yek [spirit] is over there—that man sing it—that's a yek song. Sometimes when yek [i,e,, the man inspired by the spirit] start singing, you know, when they're going to have that Indian doctor's spirit, they get sick aU the time. That's the time they get that song, one song, you know," Since aU shaman's songs were traditional, and each one was associated with a particular spirit, it must have been obvious to his relatives when a man was receiving the caU, Furthermore, his people would be able to sing the correct spirit song, either when the spirit was caUed or when its presence was manifested by the novice. At this stage, the assistants took charge of the novice, told him what to do, and helped him. One or more of these men were, I believe, among those who had attended to his predecessor and could therefore instruct the nov- ice in the proper rules of behavior (as weU as in the tricks of his caUing), Perhaps it was such an experi- enced assistant who first recognized the incipient signs of spirit infection in the new shaman. The younger assistants mentioned by an informant (see below, p. 679), were probably drawn from among his nephews when the shaman was older and had become established. As MJ explained simply: "The doctor's right-hand man is supposed to fast along with the doctor. He goes along when the master cuts tongues, and he is supposed to take over when the doctor dies." According to another: "That's the time they take him to the woods. They cut something, you know— kucda [i.e., a land otter's tongue]," Another shaman could distinguish between an ordinary iUness and the sickness of the novice, because he can see the spirits around the latter. "They see those spirits—'ixti spirits. That's the time they say he's beginning to go Indian doctor. They teUs to his famUy, his tribe. Then they take him to the woods. Then they cut [a tongue]." The only shamans who would be consulted in such a case would be ones friendly to the neophite because they belonged to his own sib. There is also some indi- cation that such doctors would help him. Perhaps it was these friendly shamans that took him on his first quest, or that instructed him or his attendants in the correct procedure to foUow. At least this is suggested by the foUowing story about a man who wanted to become a shaman, but was failing: "There was one out there in Situk. I forget just how it happened. Anyway, he just couldn't make it, so he sat in a canoe and it drifted down with him. Just about come to those breakers, and then that canoe stopped with him, just like they anchored. That was the other 676 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 shamans that caught it with him. So when he came back they did everything to help him get stronger. And he made it all right. [The doctors who helped hun were] his un- cles—^mostly his uncles. [Those from another sib would not have done so.] They're the most jealousy things," The informant was not sure how the helpers for the new shaman were usually chosen, but thought that there ought to be "at least five persons. Doctors can't move by themselves." However, everyone in his sib would be glad to help their kinsman, because it was to their common advantage. "For a tribe, it used to be lucky if any person became a shaman, so they do everything they can to make him strong. . . . His assistants are the ones who really take care of him aU the way through," A woman might receive the call in the same way as a man—" 'ixt: could be either man or woman," and a "woman doctor could get her spirit from a woman or even from a man." Yet there were said to be "not too many women doctors," Some informants believed that a woman who stUl "has her monthly" could not receive the spirits, "She has to wait untU she's an old lady, about 50 years, before she can be 'ixt." Even then, CW said, she would not be as strong as a male shaman, and the yek would never come to a young woman, I heard of two young women, however, who actually received the call, although neither wanted it. One died because of her refusal (see p. 646). The other managed to reject the spirits although not without a serious iU- ness (p, 720), Moreover, the women Cak^e and Dax- odzu were said to have been strong shamans, and both were young when they received their power. Of the latter I was told: "She stiU had her monthly. It's strong, you know, when a woman's like that," The female shaman was not a berdache, nor was the male shaman. The Quest When the novice had received the intimation that he was to become a shaman, he had to go into the woods, far back toward the mountains, to encounter the spirit. After a suitable interval, perhaps a year, he would go on a simUar quest to strengthen his power and, after that, return again a number of times, on each occasion meeting a new spirit. Sometimes this retreat might be undertaken for a specific purpose. Although the quest was described several times, none of my informants referred specificaUy to the first ex- perience of the novice, or distinguished clearly between this and the retreats that foUowed. Presumably then, all were alike, except that on the first one, the novice would have been instructed by an older, more experi- enced mentor, whUe on later quests his assistants were likely to be young boys. These retreats were summarized as foUows: "His spirit start coming to him (du yegi duqawu'a). These shamans go out in the woods and don't eat. Sometimes they get smaU as a baby when they get back. They cut a tongue. These animals drop dead when they get there—they don't kiU them. They cut the tongue, and put it away where nothing can bother it. And the spirit of that animal is his yek. They split the side of the tongue—just split it on the side, and wrap it up good. If they don't do it right, the man wUl get crazy, insane. But he got to live right. If he don't, he just get a lot of trouble. There would be about five people or so that would go with him—du xdn qawu, 'the people with him,' And they always go along with him all the time." However, Krause (1956, p, 195) on the authority of Veniaminov reports that one who wishes to become a shaman must go alone into the woods, for one week or several months, eating nothing but devUclub roots, un- til he encounters a spirit. However, if the spirits have not appeared to him there, then he goes to spend the night at the grave of another shaman (the relationship between them is not specified), where he holds in his mouth a tooth taken from the skuU or a tiny piece of dried flesh cut from the tip of the little finger. This report, however, sounds very much hke the story of the origin of witchcraft told by one of my Yakutat informants (see p. 733). Before going into the woods, the novice or the estab- lished shaman must have abstained from sexual inter- course for some time (several months?), and the neophite probably had to remain continent untU his powers were estabhshed. Tek-'ic, for example, is said to have "laid off 1, 2 years from women. He don't bother them," (PL) Those who accompanied him on his quest must also have prepared themselves by sleeping apart from their wives, but probably for a much shorter period of time (the traditional 8 days?). Perhaps one reason why very young men were chosen as assistants was because they had not yet had sexual experience, although this possi- bUity was not mentioned by any informant. Two to five persons were said to have accompanied the shaman. AU the party had to thirst and fast "for 8 days," that is, for as long as they remained away. The period of "8 days" means that dietary restrictions were en- forced during this time, not necessarUy that complete abstinence from all food and water was required. Some vigUs terminated after 4 days, perhaps because they had already been successful. Although it would seem that thirsting for 8 days would be physicaUy impossible, I was told: "First that IN THREE PARTS SHAMANISM 677 he [becomes] 'ixt, sometimes he no eat for 8 days. No drink water. That's why he quick 'ixt'. [He stays away from women] sometimes 1 year, 10 months, 12 months. That's why quick 'ixt. That's why Tek-'ic do that. He's over there in the woods. He's going to find it. He see every thmg [motions of looking in all directions]. That's why he go—no eat, no drmk water," (CW) Most of my informants reported that the assistants were also prohibited from eating or drinking during the whole period of the retreat. Yet I imagme that there must have been some arrangement whereby they could break their fast and aU obtain some moisture. However, the ordeal of the shaman must have been more severe, because on one occasion he is said to have become so weak that his assistants had to carry him. He (the as- sistants also?) ate devUclubs, a powerful emetic and purgative. On the second day, they aU bathed in cold water and presumably did so again on later days. I was also told that even though the shaman goes into the woods in winter and must fast 8 days, he never feels the cold. SimUar rules governed the conduct of the shaman's relatives at home, just as the famUies of hunters or warriors had to observe taboos whUe their men were away. Each time the shaman goes into the woods to cut a tongue, his relatives are "just sitting at home, without eating," They utter or think a prayer: "I wish I got good luck," The shaman may go for 4 days, or for 8 days, but whUe he is away, his sibmates mean- whUe wUl eat just in the morning and then fast for 4 days again. Or sometimes they wUl eat every 2 days, just a little bit, and drink just a httle bit. But again the informant insisted, the shaman fasts for 8 days. His wife observes the same rules as his sibmates. Another informant, however, reported that the wife had to follow the same severe rules against eating and drinking as her husband, A question suggested the story of how Xatgawet knew even far in the woods when his wife had "stolen" water (see pp. 711-712). During the vigU in the woods, some animal or bird is believed to come to the shaman and die. The doctor does not club it or shoot it, but his "strong luck" makes it faU dead when he looks at it. "They can't kUl the animal. It's got to come to them." Then the shaman cuts its tongue, slicing off a piece along the left side. This is bound tightly between two pieces of wood, and is put away carefully in some dry place, a hole in the rocks or a hoUow tree. The doctor knows he must be careful, for if anything happens to the tongue, he wiU become insane or die. This procedure is repeated on subsequent retreats, untU the shaman feels that his power is strong enough. The most powerful shamans traditionaUy "cut eight tongues." Women who become shamans receive their spirits in the same way, and "women cut the tongue, too" (CW). Cak^e, the Qalyix-Kagwantan female shaman, was re- reported to have cut the fuU number of eight tongues. Krause (1956, p. 195, based on Veniaminov) says that the shaman is lucky "if he gets a land otter in whose tongue is contained the whole secret of shaman- ism." The animal is supposed to approach the would-be shaman, the latter cries "oh" four times in various pitches, and the animal faUs on its back and dies. The neophite then "tears the tongue out," with a wish for success in his profession. The tongue is put into a basket and kept in an "unapproachable place," for if a layman found it, "he would lose his senses." "He [the new shaman] puUs off the skin carefuUy and keeps it as a sign of his success whUe he buries the meat in the ground." As we shaU see, the detaUs of this experience are somewhat different from those reported by my in- formants. Krause also attributes the fear of the land otter to its connection with shamanism, not with drowned persons as reported by my informants. According to the notes accompanying Emmons' cata- log (cf. p, 696), the novice carried a picklike club, which he had only to brandish toward the animal to cause it to faU dead or senseless. He wore skin gloves whUe he cut out its tongue. This was put into a bundle of devUclub and spruce twigs, wrapped about with roots, A knife with an iron blade and a decorated handle might be used to cut the tongue, Olson (1962) gives further information on becoming a shaman, based upon anecdotes or case histories told him by his Chilkat informant. When a great shaman died, we learn, or if he were the only one in his sib, the whole sib would fast for 8 days, and in one case remained continent for a whole year. For 4 days after the funeral, the whole group of kinsmen would gather outdoors, while the sib chief caUed on aU the spirits by name, asking them to enter a new shaman. "Don't give up staying with your masters! " Olson also reports that the spirits may come un- bidden, sometimes appearing to their new master in a dream. These would be spirits that had belonged to his sib ancestor and were now looking for a new "home." Or they might manifest themselves as an "iUness" to be diagnosed by another (presumably friendly) doctor. If a man accepts the caU, aU his sibmates observe sexual continence and a partial fast, refraining en- tirely from eating beach food, whUe the novice and one or more attendants go into the woods for 8 days, fasting and drinking only salt water during this entire period. The shaman must not touch his penis, so would hold it in tongs of devUclubs when urinating. As he cuts each tongue, he wishes for a specific power (to be able to cure wounds, not to be burned by hot iron. 678 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 etc.). His principal spirit teaches him songs, usuaUy four. The novice and his assistants make pUes of ob- jects (rocks) to symbolize the wealth which he wUl accumulate. Before going on subsequent retreats to cut additional tongues, the shaman and his assistant must fast and remain continent for 8 days. According to one story, a novice, if commanded by the spirits, might leave offerings at the grave of an ancestor who had been a shaman. In this case, tobacco was given on 4 successive days, which the spirits took away each night. Cutting Tongues My informants supphed different detaUs of what was supposed to happen in the woods. Some had probably acquired specific information from their fathers who had been assistants to Tek-'ic, but in addition aU had, of coiu"se, heard accounts of the traditional procedures. Unfortunately none had actuaUy mtnessed the death of the animal or the cutting of its tongue. There re- mains uncertainty, therefore, as to how the animal came to die and just how its remains were treated. Such knowledge was obviously esoteric, and was proba- bly not imparted to anyone but the novice shaman and his assistants. Certain minor discrepancies between the accounts received may be attributed to imperfect memories, to difficulties in communication, and to the fact that probably different occasions were being de- scribed. In every case there was perhaps a minghng of what was expected to happen and what actuaUy did happen. One informant specified that the land otter was always the first animal to appear to a novice, and we may infer that other creatures, as M^eU as additional land otters, might be encountered on subsequent re- treats. Land otter power was avaUable to any shaman, no matter what his sib or lineage, or what specific spirits he might have inherited. AU doctors cut land otter tongues, and this gives them their strong power said CW. Certainly this animal was the one most frequently mentioned. PL mentioned cutting the tongue of "any kind of bird," and said that Tek-'ic used to talk to birds be- fore he cut their tongues, but that no spirit spoke to him. The same informant added that "if you cut the tongue or a rat or a httle red mouse—that's powerful medicine to help you steal." I do not know how reliable this statement is. Other animals whose tongues might be cut included the brown bear, wolf, eagle, raven, and owl. These are the creatiu-es actually mentioned by informants, and the list is almost certainly very incomplete. The soul (qwani) of the animal whose tongue is cut becomes the yek of the shaman. Thus, an unidentified shaman from Wrangell who visited Yakutat had an eagle for a spirit (t6ak qu yek). The raven spirit (yel qu yek) belonged to the Ttuk'^axAdi shamans, SEtAn, QunanistE and Qutcda; the owl (tisk^^ qu yek) to the K^'ackqwan shamans, Ltuguwe, DauAq-'ic, and Ceq; the wolf (gutc qu yek) and perhaps the brown bear (xuts qu yek) to Tek-'ic, the famous Teqwedi shaman. Interestingly enough, the land otter spirit might be caUed simply kucda yek, as weU as kucda qu yek. This animal does not belong exclusively to any sib, either as a totem or as a shamanistic spirit. As far as could be ascertained from the above hst, whenever an animal was the totem of a sib it seems to have come primarily to shamans of that sib. But such information is only suggestive. There is also evidence that many other animal yek were used by Dry Bay and Yakutat sha- mans, although we do not know how their power was acquired, and except for the frog, fish, starfish, and dog that seem to have belonged to Qutcda (p, 692), we usuaUy do not know to what sib belonged the shaman that received the yek. Power could also be obtained from animals, ap- parently without cutting their tongues, which again indicates that the list of animal yek given above could be greatly expanded. If we may infer that the animal masks, maskettes, and other animal decorations and symbols on the sha- man's costume and paraphernaha (cf, pp, 685-699) represent those animals from which he derived his power, then the objects obtained by Emmons from the gTave houses of shamans of kno^vn sib ajBBUation would indicate that there was, in actuality, no absolute re- striction on the species of animal that might appear to the shaman. Even though shamans in the Raven moiety might be more likely to receive a raven, owl, frog, or other totemic animal of their own moiety as a spirit, they also seem to have been able to claim the powerful totemic animals of the opposite moiety, es- peciaUy the bear. For example, Emmons' Tluk'^axAdi shamans at Dry Bay had in their grave houses para- phernalia symbolizing the bear, eagle, kUlerwhale, and "hawk" (golden eagle?), aU totems of the opposite moiety, as weU as the raven, frog, salmon, and devUfish associated with their own moiety. The Raven I^^afkA- 'ayi shamans also used the wolf, bear, and kUlerwhale, as weU as the raven, frog, owl, and devUfish. In addi- tion, both groups had the land otter and crane, whUe the Tluk'^axAdi shamans had the dog, oyster catcher, kingfisher, and sculpin; and the ^J^afkA'ayi had the sea hon, puffin, albatross, and stickleback. None of the last are sib totems, at least in the Dry Bay area. These lists do not exhaust the possible animal figures used by shamans, for specimens from unidentified graves at IN THREE PARTS SHAMANISM 679 Yakutat and Dry Bay woiUd include the mountain goat, shark, mouse, crow, grebe, mosquito, and chiton. There is, unfortunately, no coUection from a known shaman of the WoU-Eagle moiety with which the coUections from Raven moiety shamans may be compared. It is obvious, however, from the anunals that appear on shamanistic paraphernalia that they could not aU have been acquired as yek by cutting theu* tongues (cf. starfish, mosquito, kUlerwhale, or chiton!). The shaman must have obtained them in some other manner. Furthermore, the association of crest anunals of the opposite moiety to that of the shaman could in some cases be explained by inheritance of the spirits from his father. In many cases the masks, rattles, and other objects may not have been made by the Tlingit, but have been imported from the Tsimshian, and there is no guarantee therefore that the animal which appears on such an object is interpreted in the same way by the Tlingit shaman as by the Tsimshian carver. WhUe the list of animal symbols given above is very suggestive, it cannot be taken as establishing these particular animals as yek. Moreover, the vast majority of shamans' masks represented spirits in human, not animal, form (pp. 690-692), What is the relationship, therefore, of these anthropomorphic spirits to those which appear to the shaman as animals? This is a problem which my informants were unable to solve. The animal, as we have seen, was supposed to approach the shaman and die of its own accord. CW said that his father had accompanied Tek-'ic, "way up into the woods" above Situk. "That strong, Tek-'ic, when he go in the woods, he see that httle otter—^just like dogs talking, [He made a sharp, quick httle sound.] 'X^^, x'^, x"^, x"^'—just same as little dogs talking. . , , He just look at it and then it die. Make him die, that land otter. That's the way he cut his tongue." The great Xatgawet, Tek-'ic's predecessor, had one spirit caUed both 'Land Otter Spirit' (kucda yek), and 'Spirit that Came to the VUlage' ('an yawugudi yek). This was because the land otter had come of its own accord to the vUlage, It was winter, and there was a hole cut through the ice of a pond to get water. The land otter (or otters?) came to the waterhole and dropped dead, right where Xatgawet got water. So the spirit came to him. The informant verified that the otter's soul (kucda-qwani) became the shaman's yek. Then Xatgawet cut the tongue and took the land otter's skin. This, and the fragmentary account of how a man acquired land otter spirits (p. 712), suggest, of course, that the animals are found dead. But this interpretation is obviously not what the natives believe, nor does it explain why particular species seem to come most often to shamans. The shaman's assistants on his quest played an essen- tial role. This was not simply because they took care of him if he became weak, or because they instructed him in proper procedure, but was because they could perform acts which were forbidden to him. It would seem that they had to wait on him in much the same fashion that the attendants of a 'deer' would care for such a hostage-ambassador in a peace ceremony, be- cause of the taboos restricting his activity. As explained by an informant: "The Indian doctor always had two men—^his nephews, the youngest in the tribe, the assistants to him, his helpers." These were traditionaUy "his youngest nephews," although the informant could not specify their ages. Their duty was to "go with him in the woods when he's going to get more power. They always go with him, those two. "This Indian doctor, he can't use no knife and he can't use no ax to cut anything. If he's going to cut anything, he's going to use his left hand. So these two helpers, they do the work for him. They almost have the power, just the same as him, because they are with him aU the time." Perhaps this statement means that the shaman dur- ing his retreat was prohibited from using any cutting tool of iron. Possession of any iron object (or of sUver money) was a protection against land otters or Land Otter Men (see pp. 746, 755). The ordinary person, of course, fears such kidnapping creatures, whUe the shaman welcomes their presence. For cutting the animal's tongue, the shaman used his right hand. Of Tek-'ic it was said: "He used a knife, 1ftA, made of yis [mussel sheU]. He cut the tongues of animals he wishes for—^land otter, and some- thing else." (MJ) Presumably other shamans used knives of sheU, or perhaps of copper, for this ritual task. (Yet, see p. 695.) The detaUs of how the tongues were actuaUy cut were described by several informants. Apparently the tongue was first cut off or cut out of the animal, al- though this point is not very clear. One informant, however, stated that the shaman would "just stick a piece of wood underneath and cut it off." MJ demon- strated this by sticking out her tongue, putting one finger under it like the piece of wood, and drawing the other finger across it to imitate the cutting motion. Another spoke in somewhat the same way: "He cut the tongue off that land otter," and then went on to explain that both the tongue and the pelt (see below) were saved. According to him, a piece of alder, one foot long, was spht, and the tongue was put be- tween the two halves, with the edge sticking out. Then "they cut just the side off, just a httle bit," indicating shcing along the edge of the tongue that protruded from the wood. The split alder was caUed 680 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 elite. "I don't know the meaning of it. Just luck that's all, I guess. Just luck," The tongue is kept in the spht stick, and "what they cut off they put in the alder again. They tie them up with spruce, that small spruce branches, narrow like this, long." He denied that spruce roots were used, as mentioned by another informant. "That's a law, I think." A different man specified, however, that when Tek-'ic cut a land otter's tongue, he "don't cut it out—[He] spht it [lengthwise, and took a shce]. Spht devUclub and put a httle piece of tongue inside." (CW) This was the informant who said that the shce was cut from the left side of the animal. When cutting the tongue, the doctor (or possibly an assistant) first makes three motions with the knife, pretending to cut, and coming closer to the tongue each time. The shaman slices it on the fourth trial. Each time he pretends to cut, the doctor and his helpers wish for luck, and each tune the shaman says "ux ux ux ux" [imitating the otter's whistling cry?]. The cutting motion must be made away from the body, not toward it as is customary when whittling, for if the shaman cut towards himself "he's going to cut his own hfe—and his tribe's hfe. As soon as he cut it, he's going to make a wish—that he be an Indian doctor—or anything." "When Tek-'ic cut the tongue, he wish for healing other people, wounds, broken bones. He cut the tongue, eight times." (MJ) Another informant indicated that the shaman, in addition to wishing for the abihty to heal or save, would wish for his own personal luck, specifically for many patients and clients who would pay him with "high-priced things." The slice of tongue, caUed tlAx^tl ('luck') by one informant, was carefuUy tied up and put away. "He just hide it in the woods." He knows that if it is lost, he wiU "go crazy," so he watches it for "two, three, four months, eight months," to see that it is safe (CW). The spot selected was described by MJ as a "hollow tree." Another said, however, that shamans "had spe- cial places at the mountains . . . some caves in the mountains. That's where they keep it. Keep it in a good dry place. If any person cut those tongues of the animals, and don't take care of it, he goes crazy. So they just have a special good dry place to keep it." The tongue had to be put away "somewhere in a place that's quiet, where nothing can happen to it. If it's here [near Yakutat] where they can hear the breakers, he'U go crazy. It's going to work in his head, maybe. [He'U] go crazy if breakers are making aU that noise, or if something is fooling around with it, or if it gets wet, or something." PL explained why the tongue had to be hidden in the woods: "You can't keep it in the house, because women have sickness every month and it would kUl them. So you hide it in the woods, tied up with roots. Every year put a new piece of cloth on it," "Every year" the shaman had to visit the hiding place of this precious amulet. "Every 12 months or, I dont know . . . [the informant could not explain]. It's the same day he cut the tongue. Next year, same day, he go back. If he don't, it's bad luck for him." The doctor looks to see if the tongue is "stiU in good shape" and, if necessary, wiU "clean it." These yearly visits must be repeated every year "aU his life." The exact day for the visit could be determined because "they have a calendar of their own, "presumably like the wooden peg calendar of Russian derivation owned by Chief Yaxodaqet (see p. 801). Before visiting the tongue, I assume that the shaman had to prepare himseK by remaining continent, by fasting and thirsting, just as did anyone before he handled a powerful 'medicine' (cf. Swanton, 1908, p. 448), and as the shaman himself had done when obtaining the tongue. In addition to the otter tongue, the pelt was taken, although I do not know whether the skins, claws, etc. were usuaUy taken from other animals or birds whose tongues the shaman had cut. The dead otter was carefuUy skinned and the carcass put away in the woods. On one occasion at any rate, the whole skin (apparently taken off like a bag) was held with its mouth to the shaman's ear (in this case, by Tek-'ic), who then began to sing. This was the spirit singing through the shaman. In this way he is said to hear the songs of aU the different powers. Tek-'ic was also said to have healed a wound by putting the otter skin on it. (This should be contrasted with the witch's use of a dogskin, see p. 734), The same informant caUed the land otter skin 'lucky skin' (tlAxetl dugu), and he beheved that the tongue, skin, and 'medicines' (kayani) would be kept together. This may refer to a practice hke that reported by Swanton (1908, p, 464) that the shaman might combine the tongue "with eagle claws and other articles," although no other informant at Yakutat mentioned such a bundle. Another informant reported, however, that "they always take special care" of the land otter skin, explain- ing how Xatgawet had used one to make a canoe that attracted the spirits known as Children of the Sun. In addition to the tongue and the otter skin, the sha- man might also obtain an amulet. "When they split tongues, something drops," said an informant who was trying to explain how the female shaman, Daxodzu, obtained the supernatural arrow which she gave to her brother. Chief Yaxodaqet (see pp. 712-713). IN THREE PARTS SHAMANISM 681 Subsequent Retreats and the First Seance "I heard that the strongest doctor cut eight tongues. Seems like eight is the lunit to anythmg, the most." When asked how many tongues a doctor might cut, the mformant rephed that "It depends on theu- strength," and confirmed that the more they spht, the greater their powers. It was impossible to determine, however, how soon after the first tongue a man might begin to demon- strate his powers,^* or whether he would have to wait untU he had cut a certain number. One informant said: "When he gets his first spirit, they know he's turning into Indian doctor" (MJ). However, another stated categoricaUy: "And all Indian doctors have to cut a tongue about eight times before they receive spirit, before they can cure or get any power." I suspect that both statements are extreme, for stUl another person explained: "This year, one year they cut one. Four years. [If] it's not strong enough for that spirit to see everything and save somebody, you know, they're going to take another tongue, and cut it off. They just take httle pieces off the side and tie it up good." Apparently the doctor might cut a tongue a year for 4 years, "if it's not strong enough. And then, it's getting strong. That's the time they quit." One man (CW) who beheved in the powers acquired by Tek-'ic specified that the latter had cut four tongues. "That's why he get strong," and repeated several times that he had cut the tongues of four land otters (daxun kucda), and had four land otter spirits (daxun yek kucda-yek dutciyeyut^ Tek-'ic). MJ, however, said of the same shaman: "He cut eight different animals' tongues. They became his yegi." On another occasion she said: "Tek-'ic had more power than any Indian doctor in Alaska. He cut the tongue of animal eight times to make his spirit powerful. Had to quit eating and drinking and stay in the woods 8 days. Had to do this each tune he made one cut. He had a stooge who went with him and had to fast just hke his master. His name was i^eyegatqin. Skin Canoe George. His other name was Tawuk-'ic." Because eight, the ritual number, referring to the "eight bones of the body" (see p. 761), is specified as the ultimate number of tongues, cut by the greatest shamans, there is the imphcation that there were lesser doctors who faUed to achieve this. Even for those who did, the retreats were undoubtedly spread out over a good part of their professional lives, and we may infer that they began to practice as soon as they felt ready, probably after the first few successful quests. As al- ready indicated, there was some suggestion that a retreat might be undertaken before a shaman had some particularly difficult professional task to perform. One supposes that he might then cut another tongue, and return with strengthened power. When the novice returns from his first successfiU quest, or perhaps after later ones, he calls his family together, that is, the men of his sib. "He stays in the woods, and he came home. AU his family come. He make a song." (CW) That is, the song connected with the spirit he had acquired would be sung so that aU his brothers and nephews and other men of the sib could learn it and sing it with him. At first the new shaman's power is smaU and weak, but it grows stronger as many persons sing his song, and as he himself observes a strict regimen of repeated fasts, preferably for 8 days at a time, sexual abstinence, and careful observance of taboos. FinaUy the new shaman is ready to demonstrate his powers at a pubhc show. By this time everyone is aware of his condition. "You know [in] these smaU places," as one woman observed, "they know it." On this occasion, the shaman's assistant announces his new shaman's name, which is apparently revealed by the shaman's own muttering. The doctor himself is said to "talk funny," and his assistant, the only one who can understand him, must act as interpreter. This is his role at every seance. At first, I imderstood that the shaman would be introduced at a special "party," hke a potlatch, given by his chief and sibmates, but this was later denied.^^ One informant (MJ) said only, "they got some kind of meeting, doctors, certain day of the month," apparently referring to shamanistic contests in which each displayed his powers (See p. 706). It is certain, however, that a doctor might, at any time, hold a special seance, when "he wants to show off his experience" (MJ), and his first exhibition may have been of this nature. The most common dem- onstrations occurred, of course, when a chent had caUed upon the doctor for his professional services, or when his spirits came to him of their own accord. Often the particular action taken by the shaman on such occa- sions was preceded by a power demonstration, pre- sumably of the same nature as those exhibited in special "shows." These exhibitions are described later. A Dry Bay informant gave a sketchy account of the first of such seances which a shaman might hold: "Some people come over to that place [the doctor's house]. They're going to come in. 'Asdn [seance], they caU it, . . . That yek [i,e., the spirit in the shaman] »' Krause (1956, p. 195) says that the new shaman begins his practice as soon as he returns from his spirit quest, very lean from fasting. 66 In one story told to Olson (1962, p. 210), the father "killed two slaves in honor of his son's becoming a shaman." 682 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 goes around, you know. His spirit's in it, in that house, AU the people sit down like this [around the walls]. Big house, just fuU, aU that tribe [the shaman's sib]. And different tribe, too, among them. Then that 'ixt' coming in, then he go around the fire, like this, you know, so they can see that spirit, how strong it is, . . . [A demonstration with the shaman's mask was men- tioned, see p, 705,] When they come out from the woods, you know, they go around." Although this is caUed 'asan, hke the seance for which the doctor is paid, the novice receives no fee for this demonstration. "They [he] just show off for his people, you know, how strong he is." The type of performance depended, of course, upon the particular powers of the individual shaman, as weU as upon the occasion. "Going around the fire," whUe his assistant and his sibmates sang one of his spirit songs, seems, however, to have been an almost constant feature. The Shaman's Spirits The spnits acquired by shamans include the souls (qwani) of anunals whose tongues he has cut, or that have come to him. Animal spirits could apparently be acquired in stUl other ways. For example, according to one version of the "true story" of "Half-Moldy [Salmon] Boy," the latter became a shaman after the Salmon People (xat qwani) had taken him away as a punishment for insultmg them. When he had finally come home and was returning to human form, the attending shaman announced that the youth would become a shaman. Although the Fish People who had captured him became his yek, he nevertheless had to go into the woods, for immediately upon regaining his human shape, he asked two assistants to accompany hun. Although he was admitted to be KiksAdi (by an informant who was unfriendly toward this sib), the Tluk^'axAdi shamans of Dry Bay supposedly derive theu- Fish Spu-its from this same incident, because they are "nearly the same as" the KiksAdi, The shaman's spuits also include the ghosts of dead persons, for example that of the slam LucwAq who comes to the Teqwedi shamans of Yakutat (p. 267); others are the Disease Spirits (ghosts of those who have died in epidemics, see pp. 712, 713). StiU others are apparently spirits of, or associated with, regions: the air, or sky, clouds, or other places. There are, for example, the ChUdren of the Sun (p, 710) and the Spirit of HayiwAui (below the earth) that came to the Teqwedi. SEtAU and other Tluk^as:Adi shamans of Dry Bay had the 'Spirits above the Alsek' ('Alsex kina qwani). A Kagwantan shaman, the maternal grand- father of Lituya Bay George, had as spirits the 'Women behind the Clouds' (gus dAkan cawu). The hst could be greatly expanded. But what did these spirits look like, and how were the different kinds related to each other? A possible answer to the last question is suggested in a later section (pp. 835-836), Only the shaman himself could answer the first, although my informants could tell us something, "When Indian doctor become Indian doctor, his spirit is so smaU you can't see it. He just make a noise. Right here the spirit [up under the highest part of the gabled house roof]. Pretty soon it growing big, big as a mouse. And [if] Indian doctor got strong power— grows to a giant, but nobody seeing it. But if the Indian doctor don't take care of himseK, his spirit don't grow much. Something like brown bear, that spirit," According to another, the shaman's spirit or power is called tlukl or lukl. "Yek is the same thing. . . . They say it looks like a bear, but it grows. The more tribe you have, the more people in the tribe, the bigger that is. That's why, a smaU tribe—their shaman isn't strong," The last refers to the "help" which the men of the shaman's sib must give him by singing his songs, Liikl or 'power' "looks hke a bear. It walks around," Another informant, in discussing how the shaman's spirit may come to him to warn him of impending misfortune (see p. 703), went on to remark: "That's a funny thing, it comes from the clouds, they say." The informant compared the spirit to the Holy Ghost. "They come out from Heaven." And likewise the spirit is "clean," and "good looking." That is why good-looking people are compared to yek, "just like angels," (yekxi yAx yAti) 'they resemble spirits.' IN THREE PARTS SHAMANISM 683 THE SHAMAN AND HIS PARAPHERNALIA Regimen The shaman's newly acquired powers could only be retained and strengthened by observance of a strict regimen. His life depended upon the exactness with which he "took care of himself," With his life, too, were bound up the hves and weUare of all his sib. ParadoxicaUy, it would seem that the acquisition of supernatural powers rendered him more susceptible to disaster through his own neglect, and also exposed him to the attacks of jealous coUeagues. One would suppose that only a man or woman of considerable physical stamina and moral determination could endure the life to which the shaman was doomed. For example, before summoning his spirits to attempt any feat or any cure he had to fast and thirst, if possible for 8 days. He was often out in the woods, but whether in search of more tongues I do not know. There were only certain times when he could eat shellfish (see below), and he had to have his own dishes. His wife was also bound by dietary taboos. For long periods also, he had to remain sexually continent, and I believe that she had to remain chaste during the same time, although the wife of an ordinary man might sleep with her husband's unmarried younger brother or nephew. Several informants described these restrictions: "After he becomes shaman, they can't eat just anything—nothiag off the beach untU maybe this month or next month [March or AprU], untU Tl'EnAx- xidAq len duwugut ['Property-Woman goes on the beach at low tide']. [They] eat things off the beach at low tide, when Tl'EUAxxidAq goes on the beach and is going to eat them. Then he [the shaman] can do it. Other times, he can't." The informant added that some people would not eat anything from the beach because they were afraid of being poor. Another person specified that all members of a doctor's famUy had to be careful of their diet. She was, I beheve, thinking particularly of those who had come in contact with shamanistic powers and were to some degree acquiring them (see pp, 676-677). The exact details were perhaps peculiar to Dry Bay shamans. "That's why everyone of us descended from that 'ixt' [Qutcda], we don't eat anything of that seafood, I don't eat seafood since 1930, I get sick. No more I don't eat it—[except] ribbon seaweed and black seaweed—that's aU. . . . That's the way it is. All that descended from those Indian doctors they got sick from that, and that's why they quit. Their spirit don't want us to do it. That's why they go like that." Clams, cockles, "gum boots" (i,e,, chitons), were enumerated as taboo, al- though the informant had formerly enjoyed eating raw cockles "just like candy," The three doctors, SEtAu, QunanistE, and Qutcda, whom the informant caUed "grandfathers," had eaten seaweed for luck, but only in February; that is, only when Tl'EUAxxidlq does. The reason for this practice was that it brought luck to the shaman—many patients and high fees: "blankets, everything, sometimes gux'^ [slaves], . . . When they eat it, somebody got sick. They come to him. They give money to him. That's the time they got lucky," She could not explain further. This was only what she had learned from her father and grandmother. Perhaps "that Indian doctor's spirit tells them to do like that, you know," But she was also sure that "after I got sick out of that [eating shellfish], I know that Indian doctors don't want me to eat it, so I quit," For Tek-'ic, the rules were apparently somewhat different, although beach food was also under special restrictions. "It was only certain part of the month [sic] he could eat shellfish, a little bit of his own salt. The rest of the time Tek-'ic couldn't eat sheUfish because he went in the woods to get his message (from the spirits). His wife couldn't eat it either—anything out of the salt water. ... They could eat salmon, sure, but nothing from the beach, . , , ". . . Only 2, 3 days out of the month. He was guided by his spirit. AU his people got to get together before he can eat salt things. He bless them and they eat part of what he eats. He bless them so they won't get sick next time they eat. He notifies his spirit. . . . "His sisters put up what he eats. He has his own dishes," (MJ) The sexual restrictions were also stringent. Almost aU married persons (according to my records) had several children, often many, perhaps one iU-fated baby foUow- ing another every year, since few grew to maturity. Yet a shaman had fewer. "Tek-'ic had only one chUd because he could stay with his wife only a certain day of each month. The rest of the time he was off in the woods[!]. In the spring, before sea otter hunting, he used to sleep away from his wife on a West Coast cedarbark mat on the ta:^ [bench]." (MJ) We should note that the inter- mittent fast for 8 days, that is, eating only every 24 hours, abstention from beach food, and continence, is reported by Tikhmenev (see p, 379) as rules to be followed not only by the shaman before a sea otter hunt, but by all the hunters. 684 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 Qutcda, unlike Tek-'ic, had two wives at the same time, and at least four known chUdren: David Dick and Jack Peterson by CAk'^ense, and two daughters by Ctukoka. Personal Appearance The assumption of shamanistic powers was signaled by the growth of the novice's hair, which became long, curly, and twisted to form eight matted locks. In time these would reach down to his heels, and indeed were said to continue to grow even after his death. It was denied that the curly or reddish hair of a chUd indicated that he would become a shaman for, as the informant shrewdly observed, if that were the case there would be shamans today. It is only after a man, or woman, gets that power that they also get the characteristic hair, Seton-Karr (1887, p. 51) reported that when the New York Times expedition arrived in Yakutat in 1886 (see p, 188) the ship was greeted by several canoes coming from houses on the mainland opposite Khantaak Island. "The first [canoe] contained an old half-blind Yakutat Indian of characteristic appearance, who was evidently a 'shawaan' or medicine-man by his long uncut hair." (See pi, 66,) The Yakutat shamans as described by the missionary, Albin Johnson (1924, p. 43), were "ragged, their clothes were filthy, as if they had been dipped in seal fat, stink- ing, the hair long, a braid dragging several feet behind them as they walked." Of course, he remarks, it could not have grown as long as this of itself, but had been pieced out with extra hair, "fastened on with filth, to give people the impression of magical power or authority over the evil spirits, and [ability to] drive out Ulness." The life of the shaman was in his hair—"like Samp- son," one informant commented. He could not cut it, nor could his wife cut hers. The shaman's long matted locks {'ixt xisi) could never be combed out. He some- times wore them pinned up, held by long bone pins or an elaborately carved bone comb; at other times the snaky ropes of hair hung loose. The hair of a female shaman was similar. The doctor was also prohibited from paring his fingernaUs, we discovered, when a smaU pointed bone implement, excavated on Knight Island, was identified as an implement for cleaning the naUs. " '1x1: can't cut his fingernaUs, so he has to have something to clean it with. It's a doctor's big fingernail knife—qaxak'' litAyi [human-claw knife]." (MJ) "When he's becoming Indian doctor, when his hair start to grow, it always grows long. That's funny. It's not hanging down hke this [straight]; it's always twisted, curly. It's solid, eight of them [locks]. No matter how hard you try to straighten them out, you can't do it. Just solid, "And when he gets the spirit—singing—^it's moving. That's what my father said. He see it. Sometimes it goes out like that—[almost straight out from the head]." "The way they teU powerful shamans is by theu- hau-—iih—aU twisted around. When the spirit is coming to them, that thing just moves around by itself. ]$!is is not braids; xi§ is matted hair, aU stuck together and twisted up." Such hair was not restricted to Thngit shamans, for Athabaskan shamans also had long locks that moved of themselves, according to a Dry Bay informant whose father had hired a Qunana shaman from way up the Alsek Eiver to deal with the witchcraft that was kiUing off his chUdren. Harrington recorded the foUowing story in 1939-40: "One time a sea captain came on a boat to Yakutat and there was an Indian doctor here who had long hair, and the captain said that the man ought to have his hair cut. The Indian doctors derived their strength from their long hair. The captain said the Indian medicine man ought to cut his hair, and the captain ordered a sailor to cut the old doctor's hair, and the old doctor said 'If one cuts a hair of my head, he will drop dead,' "The Indian doctor sat in a chair, and two saUors tried in turn, and each sailor dropped the scissors, and they all changed their mind, and never cut the doctor's hair," Harrington adds that this happened before the in- formant's time. Variations of this story are traditional among the Thngit. For example, I was told several times, and by three different persons, about the Kagwantan shaman at Sitka, Teci-'ic or TAci-'ic, whose hair the Russians, or the soldiers, tried to cut, and Swanton (1908, p, 465) also heard the same story about the attempt made by U.S. Marines, The White men were unable to cut his hair, "They can't move, can't cut it. They claim the scissors broke in half. The hair just moved around." According to a more detailed account, the first one to attempt it feU down and died, and the second was afraid to try. "Soon as he take the scissors, the hair just go around like this [snaky motions]. . . . His hair is just like it's walking around. It's just twisted aU around. It's hke lots of httle ropes." A third ia- formant specified that TAci-'ic was one doctor who reaUy showed his power, and helped the natives during their war with the Russians. This last informant ascribed the same powers to Qutcda of Dry Bay, reporting that, in 1894, the Gov- ernment had sent the Coast Guard around to cut the hair of aU Indian doctors. They faUed with Qutcda. "They caught two—in Klukwan, and one in Angoon. IN THREE PARTS SHAMANISM 685 He don't show his power. They want them to show their power to prove it. But he don't show his power— except this man in Dry Bay. He prove it." The Klukwan shaman was Qalg^ (CAnkuqedi), and the Angoon sha- man was Kaxcudutlak (Decitan). We have already seen the disaster that came to the Dry Bay people when the Thik^axAdi shaman, GAx-tlen (Big Rabbit), had his wife's hair cut (p. 277). Tek-'ic committed suicide in much the same way, and one wonders whether he was the "old sorcerer" that the missionary's wife, Mrs. Albua Johnson, per- suaded to bathe and cut his hair, in return for a whole set of nice clean clothes (Johnson, 1924, p. 49). As I was told, "Tek-'ic asked to have his hau- cut because his brothers were aU dead and he wanted to die. When they cut his hair, he died soon after." (MJ) For a fuUer version of the story, see pp. 718-719. We get some impression of the shaman's appearance from the photograph taken of Tek-'ic, just before his death, when he was sittuig on the steps of Bear House, Khantaak Island (pi. 65). One who had known him said that his face was ugly and haggard because he had to fast so much. His coUeague, Qutcda, came to Yakutat and when he visited the church at the mission, he was described as "awful looking," and terrifying in appearance. He was wearing a big button blanket, with "buttons as big as quarters," and great big round earrings of bone that hung down. "His hair—^he had a big bundle of it, iis,, that round. It was aU matted. He never comb his hair. They never comb it when they are doctors. They pin it up with bone hairpins. They go straight up hke a stick. There are carvings on the ends, of animals. He didn't paint his face for church." (MJ) That Sunday evening, during a seance in which he was trying to detect a witch, Qutcda was: "Ugly looking! His hair just that big. It's aU down. Naked—one of them fancy aprons on, sAuket, with bones on the bottom. Got 'At xagii—^like some kind of animal fingernaU [i.e., the shaman's crown of claws]." (MJ) The Shaman's "Outfit" The shaman was set apart from other men by his special costume, or what one informant called "his uniform" (MJ). This was not, however, worn on ordinary occasions, but was donned for seances. In addition, his "outfit" (yak-ta 'Adi; Boas 1917, p. 161, 'dMdMI) consisted of a number of other items used ia his practice, their exact nature varying according to his particular spirits and powers. Suace the shaman had to use his own dishes, I imagine that all of his personal possessions had a more or less sacrosanct character, and were probably never handled by others, except at times by his wife(?), or by his assistants who shared his taboos. His professional paraphernalia were particularly important, and were stored in special places where they could not harm others or be harmed by the approach of a menstruant. Thus, of Tek-'ic I was told: "He keeps his outfit tied up in a box, up above everything [in the house]. His sticks and drum he keeps in the house. The rest of his outfit he keeps in a hoUow tree." (MJ) That is, the most dangerous things were cached away in the woods. "Only a doctor and his helper could open or handle a doctor's things." "When he was going to perform he would send his sidekick for it." (MJ) Krause also mentions (1956, p. 196) that a famous Chilkat shaman in 1881-82 had quantities of regaha which he kept in several boxes stored in the woods; these he brought out only when they were needed. Another informant spoke about the many doctors that formerly hved at Yakutat. "There were lots of their things stored in the woods aroimd the head of Monti Bay. They got rid of tongues around here." From this we may infer that even these dangerous amiUets were stored in the woods near the present town of Yakutat. In recounting an exploit of the shaman, Xatgawet, one man spoke of the room in the house caUed the drum room' (gau ta), "just a special room where the Indian doctor keeps his drum and aU his power—those masks, and all," One would infer that all large houses in which a shaman lived had such a room, although no other informant happened to mention it. Three caches of doctor's things were found in the woods by my informants when they were chUdren (see pp, 699-701), It is not possible to teU from some of their accoimts whether the owners were ahve at the time, although in one case the shaman was said to be dead. I beheve that the others were also, and this was the reason why their belongings were so very dangerous. Probably a shaman's cache was left in its hiding place after the owner's death, whUe his grave house might be put up nearby; at least in some cases the grave and cache were close together. The outfit of the doctor was supposed to be inherited by his successor. Some objects were actually used by the latter; others were replaced by copies, while the origi- nals were left near the grave or put into the grave house of the dead shaman. Thus, Tek-'ic had the out- fit that had been owned by Xatgawet and QadJAqda- qina, but I do not know whether these were the original objects or rephcas. After his death, much of this was inherited by Jim Kardeetoo. Normally, the parapher- naha of a shaman were never destroyed but, hke his 686 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 corpse, would be kept above ground in order to inspire another doctor in his own hneage. We know a good deal about the articles owned and used by shamans, not only from the accounts of informants, but from specimens from Yakutat and Dry Bay now in various museums. The latter include not simply misceUaneous items of shamanistic equipment obtained from the graves or the persons of living shamans at Yakutat and Dry Bay, but a number of coUections which represent the more or less complete contents of doctors' grave houses. These can, therefore, give us an indication of what items were to be found in the shaman's outfit. The coUections, detaUed below, were made by Professor Libbey at Yakutat in 1886 and by Lieutenant Emmons at Yakutat and Dry Bay at about the same time (1883-87). From Dry Bat at the mouth of the Alsek River, or from the Akwe River, the grave houses of three Tluk^axAdi shamans: "Sa-ton" or SEtAu (AMNH E/409-432); "Koutch-tar" or Qutcda (who died in the early 1880's or late 1870's, probably a predecessor of the shaman of that name known to my informants; AMNH E/396-407); and an unknown shaman of the same sib (AMNH E/1653-1669), In the same area were also the grave houses of two shamans of the "Kut-kow-ee" or ^Xat'kA'ayi sib, of whom one was named "Kar-tchu-say," or Qadjuse (AMNH E/1590- 1623), whUe the other was unknown (AMNH E/1624- 1652). In addition, seven items came from the grave of an unknown doctor at Dry Bay (AMNHE/340-346). These grave goods were aU obtained by Emmons. From Yakutat, we have only the portion of the shaman's grave robbed by Emmons and Libbey (p. 192) that went to the Museum of Natural History, Princeton University (pi. 170;—about 30-odd items). The rest is no doubt widely scattered, since Emmons supphed Tlingit specimens to every major museum in this coun- try. Many are no doubt incompletely cataloged so that they cannot be identified as having come from this particular grave. Other pieces which would have been taken by various members of the expedition are prob- ably lost, so that it is now impossible to reconstruct the exact contents of this grave cache. Also from Yaku- tat are 14 masks which may or may not be a set from a single grave (AMNH 19/867-880), and 3 masks from a grave house 20 miles south of Yakutat (AMNH E/2486-2488), obtained by Emmons. Not all of Emmons' original collections are still in- tact, for many items (indicated by an asterisk after the catalog number) were subsequently exchanged by the museum with Emmons himself or with other museums. The types of objects found in these and other sha- mans' grave houses, or obtained in other ways, com- prise the following types of artifacts: grave guardian image, box to hold his outfit and additional containers for small items, masks, headdresses (of down feathers or cedarbark) with maskette (tlugu?), headdress of ermine skin (yek t6ini), extra maskettes, crowns of horns or claws, bears' ears headdresses, crest hat, (also mentioned: belt, war bonnet of basketry, cedarbark mat, shaman's doU, prophetic bone), comb, haupins, skin blanket or shoulder robe, apron, armor, amulets and charms (some attached to robes, others worn around neck), necklace, bracelets, bundle with dried tongue, gloves, knife, canes and dancing wands (espe- cially those like war pick and club), rattles, drums, tapping sticks, paintbrushes, dishes, firemaking outfit, extra cedarbark, animal teeth, and other raw materials. Many of the large coUections found in grave houses included objects of several ages, and Emmons has noted that in a number of cases the oldest of these had been used by up to five generations of shamans, whUe other newer objects had been added from time to time. The fact that so many items, especiaUy masks representing spirits, were found in a single grave house suggests that the last owner was stUl without a suc- cessor when Emmons took his outfit. Or, the successor had obtained some different spirits of his own and so could not use these particiUar items that represented spirits that had not appeared to him; or perhaps he had replaced aU these old objects with new ones. In one known case, that of the Xat'kA'ayi shaman, Qa- djus6, Emmons obtained the consent of his "heirs" to the removal of the objects from his grave house, sug- gesting perhaps the waning importance of the shaman, coupled with fear of his outfit and the desire for money. Emmons does not, unfortunately, describe the condi- tions under which most caches were opened, nor how he was able to identify the contents according to function and the particular spirits represented. It is incredible that even a man of Emmons' standing among the Indians would be able to induce some knowledge- able native actually to examine the items from these graves, and it is equaUy hard to understand that Emmons could make these identifications from his general knowledge. There is no question, however, but that his catalog notes are remarkably full and informative. Seton-Karr (1887, pp, 59-60) has described the dis- covery of the shaman's grave near Port Mulgrave in 1886. The great number of objects known to have come from this single deposit suggests that most of the shaman's professional equipment had been left at the grave: "Some one [from the Pinta or from Schwatka's party] went out in a canoe and made a great 'find' of some boxes in the grave of a medicine-man in a retired part of the bay. Whenever a 'shawaan' dies his charms and other articles that he has used IN THREE PARTS SHAMANISM 687 are placed in boxes, buried [sic] with him, and left to rot unless rescued as curios, for no Indian wUl touch them. As no Indian even dares to approach the grave of a medicine-man, the abstractions can never be discovered or lamented. In the evening the two sacksfuU were spread out on the floor in the captain's cabiu for inspection, and comprised, among other things, a quantity of masks of painted wood, a leather shawl, ornamented with sea-parrots' bUls, and a crown of wUd-goats' horns." The plate (Seton-Karr, 1887, opp. p. 56) showmg masks with solid eyes, a bird-shaped rattle, bracelets, and a cedarbark rope, purports to Ulustrate this find, but from the photographer's name we know that the picture was taken at Sitka, and the masks are quite different in character and artisticaUy very inferior to those known to have come from the Yakutat grave. The find includes the foUowing items (pi, 170): SkuU and jaw of the shaman himself (PU 12484); a smaU weatherbeaten grocery box, with hand-hewn lid, con- taining a roU of cedarbark ^" wide, another 1" wide, a ring of cedarbark cable 7 inches in diameter, large whale tooth sawed in two, pair of spring tweezers (?) of mountain goat horn, 35 perforated sea otter canines, animal rib spht and carved to represent an animal (woU? otter?) but now broken, many ivory, bone, and bear-tooth pendants, of which some had faUen from the shamans' necklace (see below), and an ivory reel for twine (pi. 117). There were also: a shaman's wand (pi. 171; Gunther, 1962, fig. 23, p, 58); wand (pi. 171), three mountain goat horns from crown (pi. 175), maskettes for headdress (pi. 175; Gunther, 1962, fig. 13, p. 55; pi. 175), two ivory picks (pi. 171), two slender ivory rods (pi. 172), two ivory necklaces (pis. 171, 172), additional bone and ivory charms (pis. 172- 173), three rattles (pi. 177; Gunther, 1962, fig. 22, p. 58; pi. 170; Gunther, 1962, fig. 21, p. 57; pi. 176), set of tapping sticks (pi. 171), two drums and drumsticks (PU 5062, 5194; pi. 171), and a skui garment (PU 5195). In addition, not specificaUy labeled as having come from the grave but probably of that provenience are four masks, and possibly two more (pi. 174), and three rattles (pi. 176). These, and other shamans' objects from Yakutat and Dry Bay are described in the foUowing pages. Although the dead shaman and his grave wiU be shunned by aU except those who would be his suc- cessors, he may, nevertheless, be attacked by evil spu-its. One of his spirits, we are told by Ej-ause (1956, p. 197), is supposed to stay with hun. Presumably it is this spu-it (yek) which is represented by the small wooden carving which may be left at his grave. Thus, a %SitkA.'3iji shaman at Huagin River near Lituya Bay had a figure carved in human form, with a frog on the head, land otters on shoulders and hips, and spu-its at the kneecaps (AMNH E/2208). A dead sha- man at Yakutat had a figure with a wolf's head on the breast, bears' heads on the kneecaps to defend him, and a seal below his feet (now missing) to indicate his abihty to ghde through the air (pi, 169), The shaman may also be provided with a knife for self-defence in death. One Dry Bay shaman was found with an old copper dagger (djixAu 'At) clutched in his mummified hand against his breast (pi, 160), The shaman in death may retain the box in which he used to keep his equipment. From a Dry Bay grave house there is one ornamented on the sides (AMNH E/2218); Qadjuse had a box carved to repre- sent the wealth-bringing water monster, Qunaqadet, which contained his masks, rattles, and other para- phernalia (AMNH E/1590), The box from the Yakutat grave house is, as mentioned above, an ordinary grocery box provided mth a native-made hd, A shaman on the Akwe River had a bag of cedarbark to hold a pair of dance rattles (AMNH E/2513), In addition to his professional outfit, some personal possessions of the dead shaman may be put into the grave house with him. Thus, a Dry Bay shaman and one at Yakutat were each provided with a set of paintbrushes, presumably used to decorate masks, rattles, and other objects (AMNH E/594 [6 brushes]; E/593*), The unknown Tluk'^axAdi shaman at Akwe River had his own wooden dish from which he is supposed to have eaten, carved with representations of the land otter and devilfish, Emmons caUed it "kithlar" (pi. 195), The same shaman also had a leather bag containing stones for striking fire (AMNH E/1667), In Libbey's Yakutat shaman's box was a smaU ivory reel for thread, apparently of Eskimo manufacture (pi, 117), as weU as other oddments listed above. Costume When performing, the shaman wore a special cos- tume, or rather a series of special garments and accou- terments, since he was then impersonating in succession each spirit that came to him and possessed him (pi, 168), This impersonation was naturaUy most effec- tively achieved by wearing a mask, but many other items which he wore were decorated with carvings or paintings representing additional attendant spirits, or were fiUed with his power. The shaman's costume is said to have been made for him "by his sisters and his cousins. If you make one for an Indian doctor, you are going to have luck." This must apply to articles made of tanned skin or 688 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 woven basketry. Perhaps his brothers and male paraUel cousins supplied objects of wood or bone, or the shaman may have made some of these himself. Many items in his outfit had been inherited from his predecessor. APEON The shaman usuaUy wore an apron (ket, sAnket, or gucket), preferably made of moose hide (pis. 168, 216). It was fastened around the waist and seems to have hung down to the knees in front, curving up at the sides. It was described as painted with "lots of pictures . . . sometimes his yek" (CW). Hanging loose from the uneven bottom was a fringe of long, rattling bones, "Those bones rattle. Those bones of his are going up and down! Gee, it looked terrible. And some- times he is just that far [8 inches] off the ground! " (MJ) WhUe one informant specified that the shaman wore the apron when he sang, it was evidently not donned for every seance, since Tek-'ic was described as stripped to a G-string, or as stark naked except for his long hair, when he was summoning his spirits. Possibly one of the words given for apron (gucket) may refer spe- cificaUy to a breechclout. The dancing apron is represented in grave finds by that of the ]^atkA'ayi shaman, Qadjuse, who had a skin "waist robe" painted to represent two wolves, and hung with rattling pendants of deer hoofs and puflSn beaks (AMNH E/1616). Another from a sha- man's grave at Yakutat was of deerskin, ornamented with rattling pendants of deer hoofs and metal, and painted to represent a wolf flanked by two bears (AMNHE/1043). BELT AND SHOULDER ROPES The shaman also had a belt (slk). That of Tek-'ic was made of twisted or braided roots (ti:^ xat). Appar- ently roots "of aU the trees" were braided together ''like a chain" (CW). Qadjuse was provided with two cedarbark rope girdles, to be worn over one shoulder and under the other arm (AMNH E/1609, 1610). These were evi- dently like the shoulder ropes worn by song leaders and others at a potlatch (p. 140), so I cannot be sure that they were part of the shaman's professional garb. BLANKETS AND SHOULDER ROBES A number of shamans are said to have had special blankets, and perhaps aU did. These may be the same garment as that caUed "shoulder robe" by Emmons. The Kagwantan shaman, QAlaxetl or Ltunei, whose power came from Disease (Smallpox) Spirits, is said to have had a "yek blanket," inherited by his grandson, Lituya Bay George, who also impersonated his grand- father's spirits in a masked dance at a potlatch (pp. 629, 713-714). The yek blanket was not described. However, Qutcda also had something of the kind, for I was shown a photograph depicting his blanket and also the CAnkuqedi Thunderbird Blanket tacked against a waU. The shaman's was hght colored (skin?), with a raven (?) in the middle, a disembodied head on the left, and between this and the raven was the same head on top of a post. The whole design was disorganized, possibly because it represented the shaman's spirits, although my informant did not know what the pictures symbolized. The design looked messy, as if it had been painted on a sheet of heavy canvas or rough skin. From the same grave at Yakutat where Emmons obtained the deerskin dancing apron (see above), there was also a shoulder robe of the same skin, orna- mented with wooden land otter heads, teeth, and Russian buttons (AMNH E/1044). Qadjuse must also have owned a shoulder robe although the latter was not preserved, for his grave house contained ornaments for the shoulders of such a robe, made of the feathered butts of sea otter arrows (AMNH E/1617). Emmons also collected a number of charms for such shoulder robes or blankets. For example, the unknown I^^atkA'ayi shaman had two wooden kUlerwhale fins for the shoulders of his dancing robe, two more for the back, and one for the middle of this blanket (pi. 204). Isolated charms (^aq sed), identified as attachements for robes, consist of a mountain goat horn toggle carved like a fur seal and originaUy used to attach the bladder to a harpoon (AMNH 19/618). There is also a carving of a raven's head (AMNH E/643). Both of these are from Yakutat. From Dry Bay is a whale carved in bone, a bone wolf with the spirit of a Tlingit in his mouth, and an Aleut carving in ivory of a sea otter (AMNH E/648, 2048*, 1162). I cannot determine how most bone and ivory charms were worn, although a number were made into necklaces. ARMOR A shaman was sometimes provided ^vith wooden slat armor, for part of a suit of armor was found with a Dry Bay shaman. These consisted of pieces to be worn on the leg below the knee, and were painted to represent faces (AMNH E/2311). We do not know, of course, how many specimens of armor now in museums originaUy came from shamans' grave houses. Professor Libbey obtained from the shaman's grave at Yakutat his buckskin coat or vest, made of two rough oblongs sewed together along one edge, with a fringe and three pairs of trapezoidal lappets along the seamed edge (PU 5195). This was probably skin armor. IN THREE PARTS SHAMANISM 689 BOOTS The shamans at Dry Bay are said to have worn short boots {ta^ kEt), although none was found in a grave cache there. Tek-'ic always went barefoot, as in his photograph (pi. 65). Possibly what were described as "boots" were actuaUy dancing leggings. BRACELETS Shamans might wear bracelets. A pair, found in a grave near Yakutat, consisted of copper wire twisted around a core of iron (AMNH E/1813, 1814). Qadjuse had a pair of bracelets or armlets, worn below the elbows, consisting of twisted spruce roots and ermine skins (pi. 198). The Tluk'^axAdi shaman also had bracelets of cedarbark and ermine skin (pi, 196). 1 ^ NECKLACES AND NECK CHARMS Another very important part of the doctor's costume was his necklace (saq sed or 'ixt da 'itsedi). This was traditionaUy made of dangling rods, sometimes of wood, more often of animal bone or imported ivory. These were described as about 12 inches long, with a hole at one end, by which they were strung on a cord. They hung down over the doctor's breast, "close to- gether, and made a noise when he danced" (CW). Almost aU the animal tooth pendants or beads found in our archeological excavations (de Laguna et al., 1964, pp. 155-160) were beheved by informants to be parts of a doctor's necklace. Apparently many different kinds of bones were used, and they traditionaUy fiUed a whole box. "He makes aU kinds of noise when he start to run around. He has lots of bones for that." A bear's tooth was considered particularly appropriate. "Doctors used brown bear teeth to get their spirit stronger, because they came from a strong animal" (MJ). The noise made by the doctor's rattling bones (necklace, and attachments to his garments) seems to have impressed aU informants. One doctor's necklace, seen by an informant in Dry Bay, was described as like a long chain of at least six bone rings, "put together." A Yakutat informant (CW) had never heard of such a necklace, or of a chain carved from one piece of bone (as is made by the Eskimo). From the shaman's grave at Yakutat, Libbey ob- tained two necklaces: one a leather-covered hoop with long ivory pendants that must have hung low over the shaman's chest and clashed together as he danced (pi. 170); the other of 10 tubular ivory beads, alter- nating with 10 (blackfish?) tooth pendants, carved like claws (pi. 172). Additional beads and pendants for the latter were found loose in the shaman's box. Other bone and ivory pendants and carvings in this grave find may have been worn at the neck or attached to the clothing, or served some other purpose, since the shaman had neck charms and amulets, as weU as necklaces. Among these objects were ones incised with dot-and-circle designs; others were carved to represent the land otter, a bear's head, a goat's head, a raven's head, a human figure with bird headdress, etc. A num- ber of specimens were of walrus ivory, obviously imported from the north (pis. 170, 172, 173). Also from Yakutat is a necklace of wooden balls on a strmg (AMNH 19/256), and a neck ornament (saq sed) of ivory representing a shaman's dream, which came from a grave house on Ankau Point. This shows a double bear spirit with a smaUer spirit in its mouth, and three spirits in the body (AMNH E/2046*). Another ivory neck charm from Yakutat shows one spirit eating another, a smaU dead man in the power of a larger spirit, and heads representing the spirits of dead witches (AMNH 19/477). A bone fish is from Yakutat, as is an ivory carving of a double-headed monster (frog? and whale?), with faces in the jaws at one end and a figure on the side which may represent the ChUd of the Sun (gAgan-yAtii) (pi. 182). I do not know how these last two carvings were worn. Dry Bay doctors also wore necklaces. One is of ivory pendants, of which two are carved to represent a raven and a fish (AMNH E/361). Another necklace is of ivory with two old Russian glass beads (AMNH E/2579). Emmons also obtained from a hving shaman his bear tooth scratching amulet (AMNH E/1328). The unknown Tluk'^axAdi shaman had a necklace of ivory pendants, a neck charm carved to represent a raven's head at each end, and another with a kUler- whale's head at each end (AMNH E/1669, -/1666, -/1665). Other Dry Bay neck charms represented cop- pers, a devUfish between two bears, a duck's head, an eye, a doctor wearing a devilfish shoulder robe, and a comphcated figure of a sea monster (whale?) with various spirits, shamans, spirit canoes fuU of dead men, etc., carved on it (AMNH E/2209, -/2210, -/2163, -/322 (3); pi. 183). A simUar carved walrus ivory charm illustrates a shaman's dream (pi. 183); the central figure is a bear devouring a man. According to the catalog notes prepared by Emmons, the shaman's neck charms, when carved, represented spirits that protected him. These, as weU as the neck- lace and other objects, might impart beneficial effects if touched to the body of a patient. Swanton (1908, p. 464) reports that not only did the shaman wear a necklace of bones, but "a httle whetstone hung about his neck, which he employed as a head scratcher." The use of this rubbing amulet was not, however, restricted to shamans, for Seton- 690 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 Karr noted that these were used by hunters before setting out (p. 666), and Professor Libbey obtained some specimens. I do not know which of the miscel- laneous bone or ivory carvings from shaman's graves may have been used as body amulets (pis. 182,183), Swanton (1908, p, 464) also writes: "At the command of various spirits bones were worn through incisions in the septum of the nose," which suggests another function for some of the objects in shamans' outfits. COMBS AND HAIRPINS Although shamans were not aUowed to comb their hair, they might possess combs which they used to hold up their long matted locks, A Dry Bay shaman had a wooden comb carved to represent a bear (pi. 178). Long bone or ivory pins were also used to hold up the shaman's hair. Such pins have been coUected at Dry Bay and at Yakutat, and were apparently caUed t6m (AMNH E/650; pi. 178). Some of the longer ivory ornaments from the shaman's grave at Yakutat may have been for such a purpose, for example the two slender ivory rods now strung on a cord (pi. 172), as weU as other ivory pins, especiaUy those carved with animal heads (pi. 173). Masks, Maskettes and Headdresses MASKS Masks (tl'lxkfit, tlaxket) were used for mimetic dances at potlatches, often those in which a shaman's spirit was represented (pp. 628-629; Swanton, 1909, p. 389), as weU as by the shaman himself. It is not always possible to determine whether a given specimen was sunply a mask for dancing (p, 444) or a shaman's mask, in default of specific information. However, when the mask is complex, representing one or more subsidiary figures in addition to the face, it is almost certainly for a shaman (Swanton, 1908, pp. 463 f.), although a plain mask which realistically represents a human face or an animal may be either a shaman's mask or one used for a potlatch show (ibid., pp, 435 f,). According to one informant, probably thinking of Dry Bay shamans, "they always use a mask," It may be significant that Tek-'ic is not reported to have done so, CW, who had seen him curing a sick man, ex- plained that the doctor put black paint on his face, especiaUy his forehead, but "don't make picture on his face," and that he tied his long hair up on top of his head on this occasion. Certainly, plenty of shaman's masks have been coUected at Yakutat, and we may assume that Tek-'ic, like other Tlingit shamans, pos- sessed and made use of several, even though my in- formants did not mention them. Dry Bay doctors, certainly, had "lots of masks." Each was different and each had a name. Some were said to have had a land otter's face, presumably to symbohze the power derived from that animal. The informant could give no further description, except that animal teeth might be inlaid in the wood. The mask is "for when the spirit comes and they go around the fire—that's the time they use it." It was interesting that no one to whom were shown Swanton's pictures of Qutcda's masks was able to name them (pi. 194), These photographs had been made from copies of the masks, not the originals, for Emmons had already coUected the set that belonged to the Qutcda who died in the early 1880's (Swanton, 1908, pi. LVIII, pp, 467- 468), (See pis. 190-193,) The masks of a shaman represented his spirits and, when he put one on, he not only was supposed to resemble the spirit in outward appearance, but he became actually inspired by that yek, and spoke, danced, and acted as the yek. The most important part of the shaman's outfit, except for the tongues he had cut, consisted of his masks. Emmons' Qutcda had 8, SstAu had 9, the unknown Tluk^axAdi doctor had 7, Qadjuse had 10, the unknown ]^atkA'ayi doctor had a set of 8, Unfortunately, all of these shamans belonged to Raven sibs; we have no set of masks or other paraphernalia from shamans of the opposite moiety. In addition, a set of four was obtained from an unknown Dry Bay shaman; Libby's Yakutat shaman probably had at least four, although not all the specimens at Princeton can with certainty be ascribed to his grave. I believe that, in addition, one or possibly two masks now at the Washington State Museum are of this provenience. The list given below does not include the four models of masks owned by Qutcda and coUected by Swanton. In aU, including specimens not assigned to any specific grave find, there are about 70 known masks from the Yakutat Dry Bay area. These represent the foUowing spirits (yek): Chiej Spirit (yek 'anqawu) Qutcda (pi. 191). Qadjus6 (AMNH E/1599). Friendly or Good-Natural Spirit SEtAU (pi. 188)—spu-it in the air. Qadjus^ (AMNHE/1597), 20 mUes s. of Yakutat (AMNH E/2488), IN THREE PARTS SHAMANISM 691 Spirit in the Clouds Dry Bay (pi. 181). Unknown ^^la^kA'ayi shaman: set of eight; four are old women with labrets, four (one missing) are young women with labrets (pis. 206, 207). Young Woman of the Woods Qadjus^ (pi. 202). Young Woman or Girl Unknown Ttuk'^axAdi doctor (pi. 197, two masks). Old Woman with Labret Yakutat (pi. 174). Yakutat (set?) (AMNH 19/867), with bear's ears headdress, Tlingit Singing Yakutat (pi. 174). Yakutat (pi. 185). Yatutat (set?; pi. 184). Shaman Singing SEtAU (pi. 189). Tlingit Man SEtAu (pi. 188). Yakutat grave (pi. 174). 20 mUes s of Yakuta (AMNH E/2487), Dead Man SEtAu (pi. 188). Dead Peace-Maker Qutcda (pi. 192). Dead Shaman Unknown Tluk'^axAdi shaman (pi. 197) with crown; (AMNH E/1659) with beak for nose, devUfish- land otter on forehead. Shaman SEtAu (pi. 188) with kUlerwhale facepaint; (AMNH E/413*) with nose pin. Akwe River, with nose pin (pi. 181). Athabaskan Shamans Yakutat (set?; pi. 186; AMNH 19/872, -/875*, 869*), two are said to be angry. Angry Man Qutcda (pis. 190, 192) in clouds. (with open mouth as if speaking Unknown Tluk'^axAdi shaman (pi. 197) with bear's in anger; down is blown out ears headdress. through the mouth when Qadjus^ (pi. 202). dancing) Unknown Dry Bay set (pi. 180). Bow Man of War Canoe Qadjuse (pi. 201). Face with Animal Parts With frogs on cheeks, unknown Tiuk'^axAdi shaman (Shamans?) (AMNH E/1654). With mice on cheeks. Dry Bay (pi. 186), Bearhke face, with octopus-land otter on cheeks; Dry Bay (pi. 181). With shark decoration at mouth, Yakutat (pi. 174). With octopus facepaint, Yakutat (pi. 174). Athabaskan woman with hawk bUl, Yakutat (set?; pi, 184). Drowned Men into Land Otter Men... Qutcda (pi. 191) SEtAU (pi. 189). Dry Bay set (pi. 180). Yakutat (set?; AMNH 19/871, 873). Glacier Spirit Qadjus6 (pi. 200). North Wind of Alsek River [bear's head] Dry Bay set (pi. 180). Spirit of Sun Qadjus6 (pi. 202). Spirit of Doctor Below the Earth Qadjus6 (AMNH E/1595). Bear Yakutat (set?; AMNH 19/899). Devilfish [human face with tentacles on cheeks] Qutcda (pi. 192). Dog Qutcda (pi. 190). Sculpin [human face] SEtAu (pi. 188). Stickleback [human face] Qadjus^ (pi. 202). 265-517—72—vol. VII, pt. 2 11 692 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 Mosquito [human face with bill] Yakutat (set?; pi, 185). Raven SEtAu (pi. 189). Crow [somewhat human] Dry Bay (pi. 181). Owl Yakutat (set?; pi. 184). Eagle [human face with bill] Yakutat (set?; AMNH 19/877). 20 m. s of Yakutat (pi. 186). "Hawk" {Golden Eagle) Qutcda (AMNH E/398). Yakutat (pi. 174). Kingfisher Unknown Tluk^axAdi (AMNH E/1655). Puffin [human face A\dth bill] Qadjus^ (pi. 201). Chiton [wrinkled human face] Dry Bay set (pi, 180). Most of these masks are extraordinarUy realistic, as like face and four figures of combination land otters for example aU those representing women with labrets, and octopus attached to the cheeks. It lacks the realism men singing, Athabaskans with nose pins, and so on. of the Land Otter Man mask in the original outfit of Some of these are said to represent dead persons; I Qutcda (pi. 191). believe that aU do, and one could imagine in many The masks obtained by Libbey at Yakutat, pre- cases that the mask is the portrait of a particular indi- sumably all from the shaman's grave, are of superior vidual. On other masks that are predominantly anthro- workmanship, and are largely anthropomorphic in pomorphic in character, the character of an animal, character (pi. 174). One (PU 3923) is a face with beard, fish, or bird may be rather subtly suggested by the mustache, and eyebrows of fur, copper eyelashes and shape of nose or lips, or by facial painting. The drowned lips, and facial painting symbolizing the arms of an man turning into a Land Otter Man is shown with octopus. Another (PU 3922) is also a face with copper open lips, displaying his teeth, and a heavy beard of eyebrows and lips, but has three curved red lines at fur; already he is growing a muzzle and animal hair, each corner of the down-turned mouth to represent In the most fantastic masks, small figures of animals the gUl slits of a shark. The third (PU 3911), which has (mice, frogs, or monsters that combine land otters tiny holes for the eyes, has a large nose or biU trimmed and devUfish) climb over the human face. The colors with copper, erect ears with a face in each, and must are red, black, green (or blue-green), or blue. Strips of represent an eagle or hawk, StUl another (PU 3957) is copper, animal fur, moose skin, or bird skin, tufts of simply a human face with black mustache and asym- human hair, and animal teeth may be inlaid or applied metric facepainting in red and black. There are tiny to the wooden mask to heighten the Ulusion, In only holes for the eyes, and the lips are parted. a few masks are there tiny holes for the eyes; on most. An almost identical specimen, even broken in the the eyes are solid. When the shaman was wearing the same places, was acquired from Emmons in 1909 by mask, it must therefore have been the duty of his as- the Washington State Museum (pi. 174), and came, I sistant to see that he did not blunder into the fire, am convinced, from the same grave. This seems to In addition to the masks listed above, Swanton represent simply the face of a Tlingit, but is, according obtained 4 models of Qotcda"s (Qutcda's) masks (1908, to Emmons' catalog notes, reaUy a spirit in the act of pi, LVIII, b, c, d, e; see pi, 194). One of these represented singing. "When the shaman puts it on he impersonates a raven (pi, 194); the other three were more or less this particular spirit and loses his own identity." A anthropomorphic. Thus, "Cross Man (AuAxla')" is a very old and somewhat decayed mask (pi. 174), human face, with red and green paint (pi, 194), "Spirit- representing the spirit of an old woman with a large put-on (Ada'oli-yek)," so-called because the mask labret, came from a grave house at Yakutat and was was put on in time of war, is womewhat similar, except acquired by the museum at the same time from Em- that the tongue protrudes to show that the spirit "gets mons. Possibly this was also from the same gTave, tired in war time." On the forehead is a smaU frog. There are no eyeholes on this mask. said to represent another spu-it (pi. 194). The last A mask representing the realistic face of a man, mask, "Land-otter-man Spirit (Ku'cta-qa-yek)," is with parted hps, and smaU eyeholes, from a grave again a human face, with fur around the open mouth, house south of Yakutat (pi. 185), and another of a and a small land otter figure clunbing the forehead. man with furrowed brow, bone nose pin, and exag- The black and red lines radiating from the nostrUs geratedly protruding lips, from a grave house on the across both cheeks "represent starfishes, which are Akwe River (pi, 181), were both collected by Emmons also spu-its" (Swanton, 1908, pp. 467-468). This model and are both of equally fine workmanship. resembles in character the mask from Dry Bay now When the shaman was not wearing a mask he pre- in the Washington State Museum (pi. 181), with bear- sumably painted his face, for the shaman doU carved IN THREE PARTS SHAMANISM 693 by Jack Reed has such a painted face (pi. 168). Per- haps some of the patterns of facial decorations on the masks were those which the shaman might apply to his own face. HEADDKESSES WITH MASKETTES, OR OTHER SYMBOLS The shaman also had several headdresses, caUed "thlu-gu" (Emmons), possibly thigu or even lukA, 'power,' These also represented his spirits. These were sometimes made of shredded cedarbark and human hair, more often of swansdown or eagledown, with a crown of eagle taU feathers or of eagle taU and magpie taU feathers. One, belonging to Qadjus^, formerly consisted of the skin from the head and neck of a maUard drake (pi. 199; maskette only). In front of these headdresses, over the forehead, was a wooden maskette, or a smaU carved head or some other smaU figure. (In many cases, only these detached carvings can be identified.) Emmons noted that these head- dresses were worn for "general dances," for dancing in the evening after a day of fasting to bring good fortune to the shaman's famUy, and also for dancing around the sick and bewitched. Probably the occasion determined which spirit was to be summoned and therefore which headdress would be worn. Qutcda, SEtAU, and Qadjuse each had three such headdresses (AMNH E/404-405 and pi. 193; pi. 187 and E/420; pi. 199). The unknown I^Lat'kA'ayi shaman had two of cedarbark and three of swansdown (pi. 208; AMNH E/1633*, 1635*; pi. 207); the unknown Tluk^axAdi shaman had one (AMNH E/1661*). The shaman from whose grave Professor Libbey made his coUection evidently had one of cedarbark, for a ring 7 inches in diameter and 1 inch thick, was found in his box. Some shamans had a headdress caUed yek t6ini ("yake cheenee"). This was made of ermine skin, eagle taU feathers, and perhaps braids of human hair falling behind. It was ornamented with the feathered shafts of arrows and smaU carved heads or maskettes. Qadjuse, his unknown ^^^atkA'ayi coUeague, and the unknown Tluk'^axAdi shaman each had one (pis. 199, 195; AMNH E/1636). In addition to these complete headdresses, shamans might also have unattached maskettes or other orna- ments which could be put on such headgear. For example, Qadjuse had a wooden wolf's head for his yek t6mi (AMNH E/1639), as weU as a kUlerwhale fin, and a wolf maskette (pis. 199, 200). Libbey's shaman had three maskettes (pis. 170, 175), and there is another from Yakutat (set?; AMNH 19/996). The un- known Dry Bay shaman had a smaU carving repre- senting the head of a land otter with protruding tongue (pi. 179), and also a wooden headdress ornament repre- senting a spirit of a dog, to be attached to a cap of bu-dskin or cedarbark (AMNH E/341). The 27 spirits represented on these headdress orna- ments and maskettes are: AafkA'ayi shamans (includ- ing Qadjuse); 3 wolves, kiUerwhale fin, human hand, raven, owl, bear, albatross, spirit from land of dead doctors, good spirit, spirit that hves above, and a Thngit. The Ttuk^'axAdi shamans (including Qutcda and SEtAu) possessed 2 eagles, hawk (golden eagle?), 2 spirits above or in the air, dead Tlingit, boy with raven facepaint, and a carving of three headless guard- ians. The unknown Dry Bay doctor had the dog and land otter, Libbey's Yakutat shaman had the bear, sculpin, and a human face; the other Yakutat shaman had the grebe. Little direct information was obtained about mask- ettes or about headdresses of this kind. Peter Lawrence had had one in his possession for several years, even though he was not able to explain it (fig. 72). This maskette represented a mountain goat, to judge by the horns. These had knobs, painted alternately red and green, and the anthropomorphic face was also green. The wooden maskette was fastened to a band of swan- skin with the white down stUl attached, above which on each side were two large projections of brown bear fur. As demonstrated (fig, 73), the skin band was puUed around the shaman's head so that the maskette covered the bridge of his nose and forehead (hke the frog and land otter figures carved on Swanton's copies of Qutcda's masks), and the bear fur rose on each side of his head like ears (see the bear's ears headdress, p, 694). With this, he wore a large beard of bear fur, fastened to an oval wooden piece carved to represent protruding red hps, and obviously symbohzing the drowned man becoming a Land Otter Man. CROWNS The shaman also had a headdress or crown made of claws {'ixt CAda xagu), 'shaman's head claws.' Mountain goat horns, or even wooden spikes were also used. Jack Reed's carving of a shaman represents this (pi. 168), and a copy of such a crown was worn by Peter Lawrence in a performance at the ANB HaU in 1936 (pi. 216). Several horns for such a crown, each carved to represent a head with a single horn, came from the shaman's grave at Yakutat (pi. 175). Qadjus6 of Dry Bay had a crown of bear claws, another of mountain goat horns trimmed with ermine skin and, in addition, a single wooden spUse (AMNH E/1619; pi. 203). The last was carved to represent a face with a mountain goat horn, and probably came from a complete crown. His ]$;atkA'ayi coUeague had a crown of bear claws (AMNH E/1642*). These crowns were worn when dealing with 694 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 black \red bear fur- ^ILMA brown ^green ^ wood swansdown- whife FIGURE 72,—Shaman's headdress and false beard formerly owned by Peter Lawrence. Right, The beard, which was worn with the headdress, is made of brown bear fur surrounding a wooden piece. The wood is painted red and represents the protruding lips of the Land Otter Men, Original dimensions, 6K x 9", Left, The headdress, which represents a mountain goat, is made of swansdown with "ears" of brown bear fur, and a maskette painted red, green, and black. (Schumacher, after Malin 1949,) cases of iUness caused by witchcraft, and might be touched by the shaman to the body of the patient. BEAR'S EARS When the shaman had to contend with hostile spirits, he might don the warrior's headdress of bear's ears (xuts gAnguc; p. 591). These were of brown bear fur, and might have a smaU wooden ornament on the fore- head. Perhaps Peter Lawrence's headdress with mask- ette was reaUy an elaborate bear's ears headdress. We may also note that some masks represented the spirit of an old woman or of an angry man wearing the bear's ears. Qadjus^ had a bear's ears headdress (AMNH E/1606); the unkno^vn AatJkA'ayi shaman had one ornamented with a wooden sea lion head, and also owned an addi- tional wooden image of a bear's head to be attached to a gAnguc (pi. 206; AMNH E/1632). A Yakutat shaman had one with the beak of an albatross and a double frog figure (AMNH 19/979). Qutcda had an unusual head covering made of the paw of a brown bear, with the claws attached (pi. 193). SUN'S EARS Because !^atgawet had obtained the 'Children of the Sun' (gAgan-yAt^i) as his yek (see pp. 680, 710), Teqwedi shamans at Yakutat wore a special headdress caUed the 'Sun's ears' (gAgan gAnguc). The one worn by Tek-'ic was sold by Jim Kardeetoo to the Reverend Axelson (pi. 144). My informants described this head- dress as an exclusive prerogative of Teqwedi shamans, but not restricted to those at Yakutat. "It was like the sun—when the sun comes out. It was painted, like a rainbow. But it had human hair on it. It was made out of the part of the whale that sticks out of the whale's mouth on each side [baleen?]—yay ia xiEui, 'whale's whiskers.'" These earlike pieces were attached to a leather headband and stuck up on each side of the wearer's head, as is shown in the photograph of Tek-'ic. "It was an old-fashioned painting—^just hke a sun comes out and it belonged to that gAgan-yAtii business. Tek-'ic had the spirit of that gAgan-yAtii." "The headpiece is mounted with abalone sheU, costly at that tune. That's Tek-'ic uniform." (MJ) Associated with this headdress, was the dagger called 'Sun Dagger' (gAgan g^AlA; see p. 696). An unknown Tluk'^axAdi shaman had a headdress which must have been quite simUar in appearance, al- though it was made of cedar-bark, to which were attached two perforated and projecting wooden disks, painted black and red (pi. 196). HATS A shaman might own a crest hat, but perhaps this IN THREE PARTS SHAMANISM 695 FiGTJEE 73.—Shaman's false beard and headdress as worn together by Peter Lawrence. (Sketch by Edward Malin in 1949.) was more a reflection of his social rank than of his pro- fessional standing, since many Thngit shamans were lineage heads or house owners. For example, one Nanya'ayi shaman wore a "very large hat with a high crown" (Swanton, 1908, p, 466). Xatgawet, too, had a huge KUlerwhale Hat (kit ^ax^), which he had obtained from the same Tsimshian coUeague who gave him several spirit songs. That is, IXiatgawet was given the right to use such a hat, so a copy was made at Yakutat of the Tsimshian hat which his spirit had seen. It was said to have had a brim as big around as a circular dining table (5 feet dimater?), and the top with rings was 2 feet high (see p, 711), I do not know whether this hat was ever worn in seances, or whether the story explains the right of the Teqwedi to use the KUlerwhale Hat as a sib crest object. Emmons found a ceremonial hat of woven spruce root ("chut-dar-ku," i.e., ^ax"^ cAdaku:^, 'hat with rings'), painted to represent the Frog, in an old sha,man's grave house at Dry Bay (AMNH E/1082). One wonders whether the fine hats obtained by Libbey at Yakutat also came from the shaman's grave. My informants at Yakutat said nothing about the woven warrior's bonnet with stephke design as a shaman's hat (p. 591, fig. 68). However, since Jim Kardeetoo, who had inherited the rest of Tek-'ic's outfit, had such a bonnet, it is possible that this also had belonged at one time to that shaman (pi. 215). Other Paraphernalia TONGUES The most important part of the shaman's equipment was the bundle containing the tongue of the land otter or other creature that he had kiUed during his noviciate. This was wrapped up with spruce twigs and devUclub twigs, and in one known instance contained the upper and lower jaws of a brown bear (pi. 178; from Alsek River), The whole bundle was tied about with spruce roots and was worn as a neck charm by the shaman when practicing on the sick, according to Emmons' catalog notes. At other times, it was of course kept hidden far away. The Xat'kA'ayi shaman, Qadjuse, had four such bundles of land otter tongues ("shutch," according to Emmons; all shown on pi. 198). His unknown ^^atkA'ayi colleague had a pair (pi. 204), as did the Tluk'^axAdi shaman (pi, 196), Of course, all shamans actuaUy possessed one or more of these indispensable amulents, but others have not been collected from their graves at Dry Bay or Yakutat. Qadjuse's outfit also contained the skin gloves which he wore when cutting the tongue (AMNH E/1615), and the iron knife used in the operation (AMNH E/ 1612). The other Xat'kA'ayi doctor also had his knife, the handle carved to represent a bear's head (AMNH E/1643). KNIFE The knUe owned by the shaman was presumably part of his outfit. As already noted, it might be put into the grave house with him, so that he coiUd defend himself against evil spirits (p. 687). I do not know, of course, whether the two knives, just cited as having been used to cut tongues, were also supposed to be weapons of defense. Qutcda was reported by informants as having owned a knife with a carved handle representing an animal's head with a large nose. He had a snuff can "made the same way." When he came from Dry Bay to Yakutat on a visit he brought a big box of things with him, but my informant did not know what it contained. There were unfortunately no stories about the use of a knUe or snuff can in his seances. 696 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 On the other hand, the knife owned by Tek-'ic was definitely part of his professional equipment, and was decorated to represent one of his spirits, the ChUd of the Sun. This was a large copper dagger, which was worn in a beaded sheath that hung from his neck. The designs on sheath and neck strap were ordinary floral motifs of Athabaskan derivation, but the handle of the knife had the figure of a squatting mannUsin, in silhouette within an open ring (pis. 86, 144). "That's Tek-'ic's copper knife. It's down at museum now. They caU it gAgan g^AlA [Sun Dagger], It belongs to Teqwedi tribe, . . . The httle man in the knife handle is gAgan-yAtxi" (MJ), that is, 'ChUdren of the Sun,' or perhaps more properly 'ChUd of the Sun' (gAgan-yAdi), as another informant caUed it. This was the big knife which Tek-'ic apparently used for some of his most spectacular power demon- strations (see p. 706). CANES The shaman had a cane or staflp which was used in his seances. Thus I was told: "The doctor has a cane. They caU it nuk'' sati ketfi—witchcraft dog [hteraUy 'dog of master of sickness,' or witch's dog]. Whichever is a witch that cane points at. It just stops at the person who does the witching. Then the famUy gets the order to tie him up for witchcraft, Kardee [Kardeetoo] had the cane. Jim Kardee had aU Tek-'ic's outfit and he sold it aU." (MJ) The photograph of Tek-'ic shows him holding the Russian sword cane (pi. 65), but we do not know whether this was the one he used for detecting witches. In the picture of Teqwedi heirlooms on the porch of Shark House there is a carved wooden cane or staff, which may have been his, although the design cannot be determined (pis. 143, 144). Without specific information it is almost impossible to distinguish, on the basis of appearance, between the stafi' used by a shaman and that of the host at a pot- latch, since both may be covered with anthropomor- phic and animal designs. DANCE WANDS When dancing, the shaman might be armed with a dance wand or dance stick. These were of several different types. One of these was shaped like the warrior's pick (katu), with a wooden handle and a pointed blade inserted through it or lashed to it. SEtAn had four of these, of which Emmons reports that he had carried them when he went out to cut a tongue. A clubbing motion toward the land otter was enough to render it unconscious or dead. These picks were carved to represent a bear and spirits, hawks and a raven, a land otter and a raven, and a singing doctor with otters for his feet and spu'its m his hands (AMNH E/432, -/424*, -/425*, -/429*). The %SbtkA'a,ji shaman had one in the shape of a cross (pi. 205); another shaman of the same sib had one carved to represent a raven above a devUfish and a land otter (AMNH E/2212). I gather that these pick- hke clubs were also used in combating the evU spirits afflicting the sick or bewitched. A shaman's wand, about 43 cm. long, obtamed by Professor Libbey from the grave cache near Yakutat (pi. 171), may be the handle for such a pick. The speci- men has an oval hole in the middle, and a human head carved at each end. Both heads depict dead or dying men with sunken cheeks, probably witches that have been strangled, to judge by the protruding tongues. Two ravens dive toward the central hole. Possibly the two ivory picks from the same grave (pi. 171) were intended as blades for this or simUar dancing picks. Another type of dancing wand was shaped hke the hunter's club used to dispatch fish or sea otters. This club ("kutze" Emmons, xu^) was also used in contend- ing with evU spirits. SEtAn had a set of seven, variously carved with land otters, devUfish, crane, salmon, hawk, sculpin, raven, a doctor's spirit with a land otter comuig out of his mouth, and a monster with a land otter's head and a devUfish body (pi. 187; AMNH E/422, -/423, -/426*, -/427*, -/430*, -/431). The i^afkA'ayi shaman had one with a man's head at one end and a crane at the other (AMNH E/1646), and a pair, to carry in each hand, carved with a kUlerwhale's fin (AMNH E/1644). The unknown Dry Bay shaman had one carved to represent a hawk above and a bear below (AMNH E/346); and another shaman at Dry Bay had one carved to represent a sea lion combined with an octopus (AMNH E/2477). An unknown Yakutat shaman had a dancing wand in the shape of an old-fashioned fighting knife or dagger (g'^AlA; AMNH E/1102). One doctor, probably at Dry Bay, was said to "use an arrow." He would run around the house with it when he got his spirit. The number of real or simulated weapons carried by shamans as dance wands is testimony to the warlike character of many seances. Other dance wands or dance sticks were carried by the shaman in his practice, and apparently might be placed beside the patient. From Yakutat is one carved and painted to represent a crane's head and neck, and another with a wolf's head at one end and a bear's at the other (AMNH 19/1251; pi. 179). From the Yakutat grave. Professor Libbey brought back one of wood carved at the end to represent a kneeling man, naked except for his large hat (pi. 171). The lower end is pointed hke a stake. IN THREE PARTS SHAMANISM 697 PROPHETIC BONE «.>L>JXt^ Some, if not aU, shamans are said to have had an animal bone with a hole in it, through which they could look when foreteUing the future. Peter Lawrence, for his imitation of a shaman's performance in the ANB HaU, had what purported to be part of a bear's pelvis, cut and painted in red and green to suggest an animal's head (fig. 74). To demonstrate its use, the old man held it up, gazed at me through the natural opening very intently, and finaUy pronounced that I would be lucky and become rich. Another informant FiGTJKE 74.—Shaman's phophetic bone, used by Peter Lawrence in a dramatic performance in the ANB Hall in imitation of a shaman. The bone is supposed to be that of a bear because "it has lots of power." (Sketch by Edward MaUn in 1949.) thought that an archeological bone bead was the bone through which a shaman looked. DRUM The musical instruments belonging to a shaman were essential to his performance. These were the drum, tapping sticks, and rattles of various kinds that were used to accompany his spirit songs. The bones of his necklace and apron also helped to accentuate the quick irregular rhythms as the shaman danced around the fire. The drum (gau) was a big tambourine drum, about a yard in diameter, with a sealskin head. I do not know if the drum of a shaman was ever painted. Professor Libbey obtained two drums and drumsticks, both sets apparently from the shaman's grave, although we can be certain of the provenience of only one (PU 5194, 5062). This is a black drum with drumstick made of a slender rod wound with cloth. The other drum is tan and has a simUar drumstick (pi. 170). These drums are about 54 and 52 cm. in diameter, and 9.3 and 8.3 cm. deep. The skin heads are fastened with brass tacks; the handle is a cord across the back. The drumsticks are slender rods about 40 cm. long. In other words, except for the lack of decoration, these were simUar to the drums used for potlatches. OccasionaUy for certain performances, Tek-'ic made use of the Teqwedi's KiUerwhale Drum, a wooden box drum (see p. 705). According to one informant, Skin Canoe George, his principal assistant, used to beat the drum for him (CW). Another denied that this man was the drummer; indeed, he could not have served in this capacity during the power demonstrations in which he was stabbed. Then the drummer would have been another man in the same sib. We do not know who served as drummer for Gutcda. MAT A shaman customarUy had a cedarbark mat (gate), undoubtedly imported from the south. Tek-'ic slept on his, as ah-eady noted (p. 427), and when going to "visit" a shaman in Sitka was covered with it (see p. 704). SHAMAN'S DOLL Tek-'ic also had a wooden image that moved of itself, and which he used in power demonstrations (see pp. 705-706 and fig. 546). Like his headdress and dagger, this image symbolized the ChUdren of the Sun, evidently his most important spirits. WhUe Copper River Eyak and Chugach shamans often had "dolls" which they could animate with their power (Birket-Smith and de Laguna, 1936, p. 210; Birket-Smith, 1953, p. 128), I do not know whether these were common among Tlingit doctors. (See pi. 168.) TAPPING STICKS The shaman's assistants, or rather aU the men of his sib who were present, beat time with tapping sticks (xftcA, xitcl). These were described as plain undeco- rated wooden rods, about 12 inches long. A man held one in each hand and struck them together crosswise. This was apparently the way they were used at Yakutat. The shaman kept the sticks until they were needed, then handed them out to his assistants (CW). Professor Libbey obtained a set of 24 plain wooden tapping sticks from the shaman's grave near Yakutat which correspond to the description of my informant (pi. 171). The Aa&A'ayi shaman's outfit obtained by Emmons contained one of bone, carved to represent a land otter's head (pi. 205). This suggests that some of the longer bone and ivory charms in the Yakutat grave may have been used as tapping sticks. 698 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 Moreover, a Dry Bay informant said that the tapping sticks would be carved to represent the shaman's spirits. "When they got that kucda yek [land otter spirits], they're going to use kucda faces. Sometimes they use it for somethuig like this—to make a noise [demonstrating by tapping with a pencU]. . . . All those people sitting around, that Indian doctor go around over here. AU those people hitting on the floor [with sticks]. "And sometimes they got something like this:" She described a low flat rectangular sounding board, about 24 inches long, 6 inches wide, and "just flat," or about 3 inches high. It was caUed 'mouth tapping-stick place' (ia xitcA yet). It was hoUowed out below, "just like a box, you know . . . just like a dish, so it can loud," and it was decorated with yek designs. "They got kucda under there. And aU that things, they're going to use kucda or bear designs in it." This would imply that the designs were on the hollow under surface, although my impression at the time was that they were carved on the top of the sounding box. "That's the one they using it on the floor. They hitting it." Each man used only one stick, not two. It is interesting that when Frank Italio sang some of Gutcda's spirit songs for the tape recorder, he pushed aside the tambourine drum provided him, and instead beat time with a pencU on a cigar box. RATTLES The shaman shook his own rattle (ceciix) during a seance. The sound was described as "x'' x'' x^ x'^." One shaman owned several rattles of different types and styles and with different designs, probably sym- bohzing different spirits. WhUe I was told that the rat- tles used by shamans were shaped differently from those used in the happy dances after the potlatch, aU were called by the same name, c^cux, and I do not know what were the distinguishing features. A shaman's rattle might be used at a potlatch in his memory, it was said, and I suppose that it then would probably be kept among the lineage heirlooms. Rattles known to have been used at Yakutat (although some may have been made by the Tsimshian or Haida) include both plain forms and those that are elaborately carved to represent either crest animals or the shaman's spirits. The latter have either oval heads, or are in the shape of a bird with subsidiary figures carved on the back and breast. I was specificaUy informed that shamanistic spirits (yek) might be represented on rattles, just as they were on the shaman's masks and on the sounding board used with tapping sticks. The elaborate bird-shaped rattles are often called "chief's rattles," even though Tlingit shamans used them, and these rattles usually have figures carved on the back of the bu-d that iUustrate the tortiu-e of a witch (which would be instigated by a shaman), or the acquisition of shamanistic power. Krause (1956, fig. on p. 168; cf. also p. 203) pubhshes a picture of such a rattle as a "Tlingit dance rattle," although he also describes a Hoonah shaman practicing with a wooden rattle carved in the shape of a crane. Swanton (1908, p. 464) reports of shamans' rattles among the Thngit: "Besides oval rattles, such as Haida shamans always employed, they sometimes used the large chiefs' rattles, with figures of a raven and other animals upon them. This may have been because Tlingit shamans were generaUy of higher social rank than those among the Haida. The chief's rattle came to them originaUy from the south." Because of the type of decoration one would assume that these bird rattles had been originaUy associated with shamans, not chiefs. When Professor Libbey photographed the Teqwedi Chief "Yen-at-setl" (Daqusetc, or Minaman) in 1886, the latter posed in front of Shark House on Khantaak Island, wearing a carved headdress (cAki'At) represent- ing an eagle(?), and holding a bird rattle in his hand (pi. 62). The latter was recognized by my informant (MJ) as one that her grandfather, Lusxox, had given to the chief, his "nephew." Curiously enough, the straight beak of the rattle suggests a raven (cf. espe- cially Gunther, 1962, fig. 121, pp. 38, 80, Haida) or possibly some other bird, but not an eagle, which would have been a proper Teqwedi crest. On the back of the bird is a recumbent human figure that holds a smaU animal on his chest. Such a scene is often carved on these rattles, and represents the land otter stretching its long tongue into the mouth of the prostrate shaman, thereby endowing him with power. The same informant also remembered a rattle carved in the shape of a kingfisher (tUxAui:^) "a bird that digs a hole in the bluffs with its long bUl." The last owner was Yandus-'ic, brother (?) to Natskik and, like the latter, an important leader of the Tl'uknaxAdi Boulder House lineage. As far as I know, he was not a shaman, only "a great man who had a copper knife." Hardy Trefzger, a former resident of Yakutat who sold so many objects to Reverend Axel Rasmussen, obtained this rattle, but I do not know where it is now. In the photogTaph of the performers in the ANB Hall at Yakutat (pi. 216), Peter La^vrence, posing as a shaman, holds a rattle with an oval head, painted to represent what looks like a shark. It is thus obvious that, while shamans possessed rat- tles of various types, it is very diflficult to distinguish between those which doctors would use in their prac- tice and those which might be used by chiefs and others at potlatch dances. Fortunately, the many rat- tles found in the grave houses of shamans give us a IN THREE PARTS SHAMANISM 699 good idea of the types which they actuaUy used. Of the rattles from grave finds, the most interesting are in the shape of birds with attached figures. From a shaman's grave on the Alsek River, Emmons ob- tained one representing a seaguU, inlaid with abalone shell, and which has in addition the figures of a water spirit (nuk^ §ati xusi yek, 'spirit of the witch's foot), and of a shaman tying up a witch (AMNH E/2509*). A simUar theme of witch and shaman is iUustrated by a rattle from the shaman's grave at Yakutat (pi. 176; cf. Gunther, 1962, fig. 21, p. 57). It is of wood, about 11 cm. long, representing an oyster catcher mth a bone biU. Ermine skins are fastened along each side of the rattle, and there is a band of birdskin (originaUy feath- ered) around the bird's neck. On the back of the bird, extending back over the handle is the head of a moun- tain goat with protruding tongue. Between its horns are the figures of a shaman torturing a witch. The latter crouches, hands bound behind the back, whUe the shaman puUs back the witch's head by the hair. Emmons also obtained at Yakutat from a shaman's grave a rattle in the shape of an oyster catcher, with a dead doctor lying on its back between the eyes of a bear's head carved near the handle (pi. 178). The Tluk'^axAdi shaman on the Akwe River also had an oyster catcher rattle, with a witch's spirit on the back; the latter has yeks at the knees, and there is a bear's spirit near the handle (pi. 195). From the shaman's grave at Yakutat, Libbey obtained a second bird rattle (the head is missing). This has a recumbent man with a frog on his beUy, lying between the horns of a mountain goat's head near the handle. This probably shows a shaman obtain- ing his power from a frog. The bottom of the rattle is carved to show a hawk with upturned feet (pi. 176). SEtAU had a raven rattle, with hawk's face below, and on the back a dead man whose tongue formerly protruded to touch the bUl of a crane's head, carved on the raven's taU. Emmons commented that this type of rattle is usuaUy owned by a chief, and that only two or three have been found in shamans' graves (pi. 187). Qadjus6 had a rattle in the shape of a human hand (pi. 199). The other :$;atkA'ayi shaman had a "general dance rattle" ("chuk-ker huttar," Emmons), and a second "general dance rattle" ("thlar-kate see-dee," Emmons), the latter ornamented with deer hoofs and puffin beaks (pi. 205, cf. p. 563). In the grave of a shaman on the Alsek River there was a pair of rattles made of decorated spruce root basketry, to be held one in each hand (AMNH E/2515, 2516). In the Yakutat grave there was a fine rattle with an oval head carved on one side to represent a chiton, symbohzed by a face and stylized plates; on the other side are what appear to be five frog heads (pi. 177; Gunther, 1962, fig. 22, p. 58). 265-517—72—vol. VII, pt. 2 12 In the same series of field catalog numbers as the objects from the shaman's grave, although not so labeled specificaUy in the old records, were two plain rattles (pi. 176). One has a doughnut-shaped head; the other is cylindrical, and contains white glass beads to produce the noise. Spirit Intrusions It was very dangerous for a layman to approach a shaman's grave or to handle his things, especiaUy any part of his paraphernaha that might be cached near his grave house. No one would dare to pick or eat berries growing in the vicinity, nor risk drinking water from a nearby stream. This was because such contact might result in a spirit intrusion ('Anelsin), 'something- inside-hiding.' It wUl be remembered that the corpse of the shaman was not supposed to decay. That of Tek- 'ic, for example, was reported by those who repaired his grave house some years after his death, to smeU like dried mountain goat flesh. "His meat was not even rotten, just dried up, yeUow, like those cookies" (MJ). The corpse retained a fearful vitahty, however, for Kardeetoo said that every blowfly that lit on Tek-'ic's body dropped dead. A shaman's long hair and clawhke naUs never stop growing. The fingernaUs of Tek-'ic were said to have grown clear through the board on which he lay. According to Eiause (1956, pp. 197-198), a dead shaman was preserved like a dried salmon because one of the first spirits which he had acquired was supposed to remain on guard at his grave house. When this structure eventuaUy decayed, it was believed to coUapse evenly, aU parts faUing simultaneously. The spirit of the dead shaman which might inspire his legitimate successor could be fatal to one not pre- pared or authorized to receive it. Presumably a spirit was also associated with his belongings. My informants told about cases of Ulness and death resulting from touching such things. Swanton also states (1908, pp. 466-467) that a person who came upon a shaman's house in the woods "feared he would become sick and have his beUy grow large. Then only another shaman could cure him." This implies that even a man could develop a tumor from a spirit intrusion, although it was understood from my informants that only women were susceptible. The actual cases reported involved girls or women. Thus, MJ told how she (then a smaU chUd) and her two little cousins, Old Sampson's chUdren, came upon a box that had been set on top of a high rock in a pond, way back in the woods, near Sea Otter Bay, Khantaak 700 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 Island. This was a heavy box, about 3 by 2K feet square, the cover and sides decorated with opercula, and aU tied up with heavy spruce root cords. The chUdren did not know anything about Indian doctors, she said, and out of curiosity managed to open the box. It was full of the bone pieces of a necklace, appar- ently belonging to a shaman of the K'^ackqwan sib. Suddenly the older boy realized what it was and screamed. The other chUdren also cried out with fright, and the parents came running. "Old Sampson's wife died because we found the box at Sea Otter Bay." She was Djmuk-tla, Teqwedi (as, of course, were her chUdren); my informant was Tl'uknaxAdi. The woman apparently died long afterwards. MJ was evidently so impressed by this episode that she mentioned it on three different occasions, and further explained: "You mustn't get near a doctor's things. It wUl make you sick—out of your mind. You wUl die of a spell." Although this Yakutat woman did not believe that a woman could get a tumor from going too near a shaman's grave, this was afl^med by informants from Dry Bay. One of them, for example, said that if a girl "fools around" with the belongings of a shaman, "the Indian doctor's spirit is going to be in your body. That's the way," and she told us of her own experience when she was a little girl: When a smaU chUd, she and another girl, Kunac- tla, found a box containing a doctor's outfit when they were picking berries near Cannery Creek, Dry Bay. Everything was in the box—mask, rattle, and a bone necklace like a chain. (I gathered that these had be- longed to the Tluk^'axAdi shamans, SEtAn, GunanistE, and Gutcda.) The other girl put on the mask, and my informant the necklace. Then they both became fright- ened and ran home. Here, the other girl feU down un- conscious. When asked what had happened, my informant told her mother how they had found a big box containing a 'bogey man' ('uxadji, something used to frighten naughty chUdren), as she caUed the mask. The mother recognized this as belonging to a doctor, and at once she and the father took their daughter back to the box. Here the mother built a fire, made her daughter eat some dried salmon, and put the other half of the fish into the fire after rubbing it around her daughter's lips. Then the mother and father talked to the doctor: "That's your daughter. [The shaman was Tluk^axAdi, as was the girl's father.] Don't get mad at her. Lil duyis xan nuguk"^ [hi duyis kande nuguk(?), 'don't because-of-her anger show']. Put her into luck— tlaxetl ku'adukAk'^djmAk." They also burned food for the other girl, but she was unconscious for 2 days and felt sick for a whole week. She finaUy died in Petersburg, but how long afterwards was never made clear. The behavior of the parents reminds us of the custom reported by Swanton (1908, p. 467), when a Tlingit in a canoe passes a shaman's grave house on a point of land. Then he wUl put an offering of food and tobacco into the water and pray for good luck. My informant beheved that her parents' prayers, and the fact that she herself had tried to prevent the other girl from putting on the masks had made her lucky, although she also told us that she was "sick all the time" because of this misadventure. When she was 24 years old she had to have an operation to remove a growth. This was an 'Anelsin. The surgeon showed her what he had ex- tracted: these were three bone rings, just like the links of the doctor's necklace. "That spirit went into me because I put on that necklace." AU told, she had to have four operations. Jim Kardeetoo, the last assistant of Tek-'ic, was credited with curing a similar spirit intrusion by virtue of the power he had acquired from association with the shaman. Thus, one woman told us: "I got sick when I was 14. I feel sick all the time, can't eat, ]ust skinny, sharp pain in my side. My mother caUed Jim Kardee in. . . . He came alone; there were no other Teqwedi with him. My mother thought he was going to feel my side mth his hands and see what was wrong with me. But he see a fishtaU in me as soon as he opened the door. It was moving around. "He said I was scared by 'ixt' things. "They ask us kids what we see or what we do. Kardee said: 'It's because she got scared of Indian doctor's things.' "Then my sister recaUed and said we found a wooden box right in back of where the cannery is now. It was high up. It was fuU of 'ixt' bones [i.e., for his outfit], in a box, rotten. My mother was asking her [and she re- membered]. She knew she mustn't touch it. I was smaUer than she. I don't know if I seen it, but I must have, I guess. There was a rattle in it, carved like a fish. The taU went down my back. "It run away from his [Kardeetoo's] spirit; the fish taU hide away from him, when he came in the door. [It was stuck in the girl's side, with the forked end up. Kardeetoo pushed the taU around to her back, and turned the end down, so it could come right out of her mouth. She did not feel it come out, but Kardeetoo saw it, and she felt better right away.] "Kardee turned it up. It came out. I don't get sick anymore." In these cases, those who found the doctor's things or who were afflicted with Ulness in consequence be- longed, as far as could be ascertained, to a sib other than that of the shaman whose outfit was involved. I would suspect that the knife with the fishtaU had belonged to a K'^ackqwan (or possibly a Tl'uknaxAdi) doctor, because this sib featur es the Humpback (or the IN THREE PARTS SHAMANISM 701 Coho) Salmon as a crest. The chUdren who found it belonged to the opposite moiety. Perhaps the real danger involved in aU these cases was not due so much to lack of spiritual preparation for encountering shaman- istic powers, as to the fact that members of another sib were not supposed to inherit a dead shaman's powers. I was told of one man who became sick from too close an approach to a shaman's grave house, although this did not result in a tumor. This grave house was on Douglas Island, near Juneau, and was shaped hke a smaU house with a shed roof (tlekde hit, 'one-side house'), enclosed on aU sides. There was a big canoe on the ground in front of the house, with a "totem pole design" on it. The man was curious, thinking that the canoe might have been abandoned after a wreck, and went close to examine it. Afterwards, when he developed rheumatism, this was attributed to his having approached too close to the grave house of a strong Indian doctor. THE SHAMAN AND HIS POWERS Introduction The powers of the shaman became manifest in the seance ('asdn). These were awesome exhibitions, usuaUy held in the main room of the house, often at night when the scene was iUuminated only by the flickering hght of the central fire. In emergencies, such as a grave Ulness, the shaman might perform during the daytime, and for several days in succession. One informant (CW) said that the audience was exclusively male: "Big house, aU fuU up. No women there, just the men. That yek, he scared of women. The women in there, he see the women, the yek is die. That's why the yek is scared of women." He was probably referring to a seance of Tek-'ic, perhaps a particular one from which women were barred. Certainly the presence of menstruating women was prohibited, but presumably in former days they would have been in the special "birth hut," not in the big house. There seems to have been no exclusion of httle girls and of women past menopause. Even the perform- ances of Tek-'ic were witnessed by women, for the mother of an informant had described to her daughter a seance she had watched through the partiaUy open door of her sleeping room. One of his demonstrations was, in fact, rendered imperfect because a woman interfered (see p. 717). Seances were held for a variety of purposes, sometimes when the spirits came of their own accord to the doctor, and sometimes when he summoned them. A seance might be held as a demonstration of power, as when the shaman wished to impress his own people or a profes- sional rival. Sometimes these demonstrations were preliminaries to an attempted cure, an encouragement to both patient and doctor. Some seances were to announce an unexpected event or an impending disaster about which the shaman's spirits had brought a warn- ing; others were held at the request of anxious relatives to obtain news of an absent kinsman or to discover and save those who were lost and captured by Land Otters (see pp. 751-754). Swanton (1908, pi. 465) also mentions that the shaman might send his spirits to find sources of food or to fight spirits belonging to a shaman of an enemy tribe. Most seances, perhaps, were to cure the sick, a procedure which often involved not simply treatment of the patient, but a pubhc inquisition to expose the witch responsible and to force his confession (see pp. 736-738). Shamans were also truly doctors in that they possessed considerable medical and surgical skiU which could be exercised without a formal seance. In addition, some dispensed amulets or 'medicines' that brought luck of particular kinds. According to Krause (1956, p. 194), "The shaman cures the sick by driving out evU spirits, brings on good weather, brings about large fish runs and performs other simUar acts." Securing fish runs may involve being lowered on a rope from a canoe into deep water. A power demonstration by a Sitka shaman, described by Veniaminov, involved throwing the shaman into the sea, \vrapped in a mat. He reappeared after 4 days. To cause better weather, a shaman might also go into the water, but if his hair became wet, that would bring rain (ibid., pp. 196-197). A shaman could also "throw his spirits into anyone who does not beheve in him; and these people then get cramps or fall into a faint" (Krause, 1958, p. 196). Krause (ibid., pp. 202-203) discusses shamanistic cures and treatment of witches among the Hoonah, Chilkat, and Sitka Thngit in 1881- 82. WhUe his reports, like Swanton's, indicate that the Tlingit shamans of southeastern Alaska had powers similar to those of Yakutat and Dry Bay, and held simUar seances, the actual details varied tremendously. 702 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 This is because the spuits, and in consequence the powers and procedures of the shamans, usuaUy be- longed to particular sibs. One would not expect dupli- cation of a seance unless the one shaman had obtained his spirits from the other. The Shaman's Assistants In the seance the shaman relied upon his assistants to sing his song-s, beat his drum and tapping sticks, and to handle his paraphernaha. The principal assist- ant might also be the subject on whom he demonstrated his skUls or who played some equaUy necessary role in the exhibition. The latter also had to recognize which spirit was inspiring the shaman, or which the latter was summoning, in order to lead the correct song and also to interpret the words of the spirit who spoke through the mouth of its "master," the shaman. "When they become shaman, after they start in, his assistants have to know just what song to sing and how to beat the drum. If they misbeat the drum, the shaman just becomes normal right away [i.e., comes out of his trance]. Or, if they sing the wrong song, the same way. Even if they're asleep, when the shaman wants to get the spirit, they aU have to get up and get ready. Get those sticks and start beating. They don't beat on the drum; they beat on something solid . . . fast like, some places just skip a beat. . . . The shaman himself uses that rattle." The same informant said on another occasion, also about the assistants to the shaman: "They always go along with him aU the time. Sometimes when he's sleeping, the yek would come to him, and they have to get up and start singing these songs, and get his things." Another informant explained it: "This Indian doctor makes a kind of funny noise, and the 'ixt' xAuqawu—'the man next to him [sha- man]'—understands it. He's the only one can under- stand what song the doctor caUs for. He's the one that sings it, and the other ones join in. . . . He starts it. All the men know the songs, though, so when this man starts the song everybody joins in. . . . Lots of people sing it. "Two are really close to this doctor. There's the 'ixt; xAuqawu and the drummer, gau g'^Ali ['drum strik- er']. The doctor shakes his rattle." Inspiration When inspired, the sounds made by the shaman resemble those of the animal whose tongue he has cut, since the yek comes from that animal. "Whenever it comes to them, they sound just like it," one man explained. "Yek comes near them and makes a motion, but they say it speaks in them. Some people say [it's] just like looking through that window," pointing to the glass covered by a plastic storm win- dow. "You can't see very good out of it. Sometimes that's the way you see. He [the shaman] can't see either. He says, ' 'Ucke—I wonder.' He's not sure in- side. It puzzles me, too. When he says that, the yek speaks in him. Nobody can understand what he's saying." "When he gets that spirit, the people sing; 'ixt i^Anqawu sings. And when that spirit talks in him [the shaman], he knows what yek comes. He [the assistant] knows what's coming—like kucda yek [land otter spuit]. There's lots of them. . . . [The assistant recognizes the particular spirit from the behavior of the shaman.] It depends on how he makes a move, and how he talks. The assistant knows. They claim he [the shaman] doesn't talk—just the spirit talks. But it sounds funny. They can't understand it. It sounds hke animals. When the spirit goes away from him, the doctor starts telhng just what he saw and what comes to him." The shaman possessed by the yek not only speaks like the animal, but imitates its actions. Thus, one who has the spirit of a bear may imitate the digging of a bear. Or, the assistants may dance like the spirits, as Qutcda's people danced like jumping fish when he summoned his fish spirits and sang their songs (see p. 710). Among his many yek, Qutcda also had a dog spirit (ketl qu yek), and when inspired by it would go around "just like a dog," barking "WA! WA! WA! WA!" For a peace ceremony, the name 'Dog Deer' (ketl kuwakan) was given by the Tluk'^axAdi to Frank Italio, their CAnkuqedi peace hostage, because the dog had been a yek of the Tluk^axAdi shamans, including Qutcda. Apparently, the peace hostage in this ceremony danced "just like barking," but it is not clear whether he imitated the same dance which the shaman would have performed when inspired by the dog. In reporting what he had learned or seen in a trance, the shaman always preceded his pronouncements with the exclamation: "hak!" The message itself was always couched in vague language, which might permit of several interpretations. Therefore, the people might say of someone who never speaks so others can under- stand; 'yek-like [he's] not-reaUy-telling-the-story' (yek-yAx helyA 'ulnik). "He never comes to the point." IN THREE PARTS SHAMANISM 703 spirit Warnings Sending the Spirits for News A doctor's spirit may come to him unbidden. This is usuaUy to foreteU some disaster or to announce surprising news. The resulting seance in such a case is probably shorter than if the shaman had had to summon his spirit. As PL put it: "The doctor knows what's going to happen. He warns people if someone is going to die or get lost. It comes m his mind when he sleeps. Sometimes he teUs you when the boat is going to come." The shaman's spirit comes when there is to be an accident. "Sometimes something's going to happen, you know—that's the tune. . . . That's the tune that yek goes to that Indian doctor, you know. AU that yek. Then they teU it: 'Something's gomg to happen.' When he feels better, you know, that yek go away from hun." For example, the shaman might "see" that someone was to be drowned, even though this was to happen in Dry Bay and the shaman hunself was in Yakutat. The omen would appear to him like a "big hole in the water—^hin kiwa'a, they caU it ['water heaven,' see pp. 766, 770]. Then he wiU say, 'Somebody's going to drown.' " When this informant was asked if the shaman could save the victim from this impending fate, she said that he could, provided "they give him something—money," but not if he were not paid. "That's the law. Those yeks never help without paying, you know. It's just like a show, a movie, you know, that spirit," because a fee is required. Tek-'ic was also caUed Lxaguia, because he could teU when war (xa) was coining. "If some boat coming to fight, he see it. . . . He teUs about the war. Long ways to see it. He see it before it comes. I don't know how he could do that. He start to sing. His power showed it." This power was caUed gutc 'ixt, UteraUy 'wolf- shaman,' but the informant may have used this expres- sion because he did not know how better to explain it. When I remarked "gutc du yegi—'wolf his spirit (was),' " my informant was electrified. "She knows the word!" he exclaimed (CW). When the spirit was warning Tek-'ic of some "strange thing" that was going to happen, he was accustomed to go away from the other people in the house, and sit quietly. "TeU people in the house to be quiet for a whUe," he would say. "Keep your kids quiet for a whUe." He would turn his back to the fire—just sitting there. Then suddenly: "i i ± i!" he would burst out, and everybody would jump, startled. (MJ) On other occasions the shaman had to summon his spirits, as when he had been engaged by a patient or a client. Payment to the shaman was then essential, for without this, the spirit or power would not come to him. The fee, paid in advance, might be considerable. Thus, one might hold up a gun before the shaman, saying: "Yadu 'ine^e—That's your pay." Then the spnit or spirits would come to him quickly. "Otherwise they would never come," my informant explained, and it would be futUe for him to try to command them (MJ). Those who had not heard from absent relatives for a long time, or who were anxious for the safety of a belated hunter or traveler, would hire the shaman to find out what had happened, or to discover and rescue the person who was presumed to be lost. The shaman would then hold a pubhc seance, to summon his spirits, send them out, and to learn and report what they had seen and done. This required careful preparation and staging. As described by MJ, probably thinking of Tek-'ic: "He has to stop eating and drinking before he can find anything out. He gets big pay, or his spirit won't tell him anything at aU. He's got to announce to his spirit what he's getting. "He sits by the fire. His back is to it. No woman can't be around. He lets his hair down whUe he waits for an answer. "They pack everything out of the house that his spirit won't hke, guns or women with their monthly. It's because the guns or breakable things would break. His spirit could teU if a woman with her monthly was inside. . . . "When he is doctoring he has a messenger—dut6 du yegi. [Does this refer to the httle wooden image some- times employed by Tek-'ic? See p. 705]. When the doctor announce his word [i.e., the answer of the spuit], his helper just copies him and foUows his word [i.e., interprets or explains]." For what is perhaps a more specific account of the same or a simUar seance, see "Stories about Shamans" (p. 716). When the shaman had sent his spirit out and was waiting for its report, other persons had to be very careful of their conduct. Thus, one should not walk behind the shaman, otherwise he would not get the right answer. He would just make a noise—a growling, snuflBing grunt, hke that of a wUd animal, which I gather could not be interpreted (MJ), Another inform- ant, however, indicated that such rules of conduct 704 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 should be observed at aU times, not simply when the shaman was practicing. The spirits were often unpredictable. Not only might they come unexpectedly of their own accord, but the shaman might or might not be able to caU upon them. "Sometimes it comes, sometimes not. The doctor watches aU the time. Sometimes yek makes a motion to him. LukA [power], he knows it's coming. [Ifjsome- thing happens someplace else, that's the time it's coming to him. "If somebody ask him for something, or some people come to him, then he has to caU for it. Suppose some people went out to Dry Bay," the informant suggested a hypothetical case, "and they should be here a long time ago. WeU, you just wonder what happened to them. You caU on this doctor and he send this hikA over there to see what's going on. The lukA works through something—the winds, the tide-rips, or the breakers. That's the way they work it. [When it re- turns] lukA reports to the doctor." I believe that the messenger spirit of each doctor has its own medium of travel, similar to the "lines" or routes used by Atna shamans when their souls travel or communicate with each other. Thus, when Qutcda, the Tluk^axAdi shaman, sent his spirits out to find someone who was lost, he apparently selected those appropriate to the region they were to visit. If the people were afraid that the missing person had drowned, "xat-qwani yek [fish-people spirits] goes out to the water to look for him. ... If he's lost in the woods, they send kucda yek [land otter spirits] after him." Ghostly Visits Other methods of learning about events at a distance involved, not the sending of an attendant spirit (yek or dut6), but the shaman's own spirit or soul. This seems to have occurred when he feU into a deep trance, or at least appeared to be dead. When his spirit re- turned from its ghostly jom-ney, the shaman revived. This type of seance is very hke the coma during which someone "dies" for a short time and visits the land of the dead, returning to teU of his experiences (see pp. 772, 775). Some "deaths" or journeys of this kind have been occasions on which a man acquires yek and there- by becomes a shaman (p. 713), but other similar ex- periences may have no further consequences. When such a ghostly or spiritual journey is undertaken by a shaman it is carried out as a kind of power demon- stration. Xatgawet went on a visit of this kind to the Tsimshians, and returned with new powers (p. 711). In this way, also, Tek-'ic "traveled" to Sitka. "Tek-'ic is the one who got news from Sitka long before the telephone." He went to Sitka, I was told, in order to learn about two Teqwedi women from Yakutat who were married to Tl'uknaxAdi men in Sitka. Apparently this visit was made by Tek-'ic's spirit or "power," whUe he lay, lifeless, under his "straw" (bark) mat (gate) in Yakutat. (The "power" that went to Sitka is evidently equated with the shaman himself.) In those days, news came by open canoe to Yakutat only twice a year, so the relatives of the women who were worried about them asked Tek-'ic "to have his power go to Sitka." For this per- formance he caUed all the Teqwedi into one house, and announced that he was going to go right to the edge of the salt water in order to travel to Sitka, and was then covered with his mat. "Within half an hour he is going to Sitka, and he comes back in an hour. That's a long ways." He had gone "under the salt water where the waves are coming in," apparently along the edge of the under- world abyss (hayi-wAui). This was because he had a rival in Sitka, the Kagwantan shaman, Teci-'ic (or TAci-'ic), and the latter could not get at him there. If they had the chance, their powers would fight and kiU each other. So the other doctor did not see him, even though Tek-'ic stood right beside him in Sitka and told him: "wa'E 'EskegE 'ax tEk-yAdi [or 'ax tAyiq- yAdi?]"—"Do you know my little stone(?) child?" Tek-'ic also said that he wanted the two Yakutat women to be summoned. So they caUed everyone together in the house, and "showed their faces to that Indian power there," that is, to Tek-'ic. He looked at the two women, and the Sitka doctor told him, "They are aU right." But Tek-'ic could see on the face of one that she had been in the habit of crying. He could see this for himself, without being told. So when he returned to Yakutat and they removed the mat, and "when he's come back to life," he got up and told the people that everyone was aU right in Sitka, that the women were all right, but that one of them was crying because one of her chUdren had died. In the springtime, the people came from Sitka in canoes, and the first thing they told the Yakutat people was: "Your Indian doctor came over to Sitka. One of the women was crying. The Indian doctor saw it." The particular route that he, or his "power," took in this case again suggests those that are used or controlled by individual Atna shamans. Power Demonstrations A number of performances have been described that seem to have been held for the primary purpose of IN THREE PARTS SHAMANISM 705 discovering or demonstrating the extent of the shaman's powers. Sometimes these involve the acquisition of addi- tional strength, although they may also be preliminary to a seance held for some particular purpose of a dif- ferent kind, such as a cure. Since every seance was (deliberately) theatrical, full of suspense, animal mim- icry, contortions, mysterious pronouncements, songs (perhaps in a foreign tongue) to a stirring, irregular, rattling beat—aU manifestations of the awesome yek— it is probably wrong to try to draw too sharp a line between the various types of performances. Some power demonstrations involved the lifelike movements of seemingly inanimate objects, not only the doctor's own hair, but his cane, a doU, or the garments of a rival. An arrow might penetrate a rock and be impossible to puU out, or a pole be held fast in the sand by the shaman's power. He might make a bag too heavy to lift, or his own wooden mask might defy gravity. Shamans could also handle burning hot objects unscathed, or restore the dead to life. (For examples, see "Stories about Shamans," pp. 714, 715.) With respect to the last type of demonstration, an informant said: "Sometimes they kUl a person and bring him back alive, but whether they just hypnotize the person, I don't know." He also referred to "tricks" in this connection. A powerful shaman might himself die and then return to life, as in the cases already mentioned, or others might accompany the shaman on his ghostly journey. A Dry Bay informant mentioned what seems to have been a power demonstration in which the shaman wore a mask on his face without tying the cords around his head with which it was usuaUy supported. The assistant would "just throw it right on his face," and his spirit was so strong that the mask would remain in place. ^^ When inspired by a particular yek (name forgotten), the shaman could take a hah-burned log or charcoal (xudzi) from the fire, and four times throw it aU over the house. It would not hit anyone, but woiUd just faU beside them. Nor was the shaman himself burned. One man had seen Tek-'ic do this several times. He would take a big burning log, reportedly 2 or 3 feet in diameter, from the fire, toss it up in the air and catch it, without burning his hands. He did this just to prove his powers. "That's why everybody believe him" (CW). Harrington in 1940 was told that there used to be an Indian doctor in Yakutat who could touch his tongue to a red hot iron, so that smoke came out, yet »^ This same feat was ascribed to an Alsek River shaman who visited KlAkAnuwu. He could also stab a man and cure the wound without leaving a scar (Swanton, 1909, Tale 27, p. 66). when he exhibited his tongue it was unhurt. The same doctor could "heal a cut instantly," but the informant would not mention his name. This sounds much hke Tek-'ic, for the latter often demonstrated his abihty to cure wounds miraculously. One display given by Tek-'ic involved a httle wooden image, used as a messenger. This was described as "that piece of wood that goes from place to place. The Tewedi doctors had it." It was about 12 or 18 inches high (SJ). "He had a stick, about two and a haK feet long, with a bear carved on it. That was his spirit—'ixt XAU yegi. It could walk. He eats sheUfish [at cer- tain seasons, see p. 683]. It goes on the beach and picks mussels for him, before the raven crows. When the raven crow, it feU down and turned to wood. He keeps it in a hoUow hemlock in the woods. It would make people sick if they came to it." (MJ) The same informant occasionaUy caUed the image a "pole" or even a "totem pole" in a confusing fashion. The expression seems to refer, not to the shape, but to the representation of a sib crest or, as in this case, a spirit owned by a particular sib. According to a design (fig. 546) which this informant had made, the object resembled a httle man with a crown or headdress of radiating spikes. "That pole ... is the spirit of the Indian doctor. It's just about one foot high. They got it [kept it] in a hoUow tree. "They have the pole on top of the KiUerwhale Drum during performances. [This is not the detachable "fin" shown in the photographs, but a figure which replaced it.] When his master [Tek-'ic] go around receiving mes- sages, and when they sing a song, the gAgan-yAtxi song ['ChUdren of the Sun' song], that httle thing just stand aU by itself, hke a human. It just keep time. [In answer to a question:] The whole thing moved. I could teU you a he and say that the feet moved. "That kit [KiUerwhale] drum is about that wide (3 feet) and that high (5 feet) off the floor. And they put the httle thing on top. The drum is about as big as this table, only put on its side. Only it's narrower. There is a hoUow at the end [see pi. 143 of the drum on the porch of Shark House]. They beat it inside. There is just room enough for a person's arm inside. They don't drum at it [i.e., strike the painted outside]. The Tsimshian made it of precious red cedar." (MJ) The informant further uadicated that it was on the shores of Port Mulgrave, in front of the vUlage, where there were many clams and mussels, that "my mother see my uncle's httle 'totem pole,' down on the beach eating mussels and cracking cockles hke mad." (MJ) This wooden image represented the ChUdren of the Sun (gAgan-yAtxi). It was Tek-'ic's messenger, since his power had been obtained from the Sun's chUdren. 706 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 My informant also caUed it 'ixt xan yegi, 'the spirit near the shaman,' or assistant spirit (MJ). This shaman also owned a big copper knife, the Sun Dagger, which he seems to have used in demonstrations of his abUity to heal wounds. To do this, he would stab his assistant with the knife, then miraculously close the wound in a minute, leaving an almost in- visible scar. He seems to have practiced this way before attempting an actual cure, as for example before treat- ing Bear Bit BUly of the wounds inflicted by a bear (see p. 717). The same demonstration was also under- taken simply as an exhibition of power. This would be held in his house on Kliantaak Island. No women were aUowed in the main room during his performance, but they could and did peer out of the sleeping rooms. No objection was made to the presence of a little girl. From the confused account of one man whose father, as a boy, had attended Tek-'ic, we gather that the latter held one such seance either when he first received his power, or when he regained it after a humUiating en- counter with Ltuguwe, a K^'ackqwan shaman. This demonstration was described more or less as foUows: "He make tricks—that doctor. He hit one of my uncles, when he got his power. He hit my father's oldest uncle. . . . That man was Charley Benson's father." That is, the assistant on whom he demonstrated was Skin Canoe George Ki-ye-quat-kene. Tek-'ic was apparently urged to strike someone with a knife. "It was a big cut. They [the shaman and his assistant] were next to my old man [father] and he see it. It was just like the knife hit rocks. It was to find out how much power he had, they do it." Eagle down and the shaman's otter skin were put on the cut, and Tek-'ic was taken by his other assistants clockwise around the fire four times. "When he got his power back, that cut was just a httle black scar. After it's fixed, my old man used to look at it and touch it. That fast it healed up!" Another informant described a simUar demonstration when his assistant cut himself in the face. It was a long cut, but Tek-'ic cured it with his medicine so that it was "just little bitsy" scar. In this case, "Tek-'ic just clean it with his hand," whUe admonishing his pa- tient: " 'Don't look for woman!' If he look at a woman it would spoU his power." (CW) The first demonstration of a new shaman's powers (see p. 681) may have been a formal seance with feast- ing of guests, like those described by Elrause (1956, pp. 198-199) for the southeastern Alaska Tlingit, based upon accounts by Veniaminov and Holmberg: "The gTcat shamanistic performances are given only in the winter during a new or full moon. The shamans caU ceremoniaUy upon their spirits so that they may bring luck and ward off iUness for the viUage, for the shaman himself, and for his relatives during the coming year" [Krause, 1956, p. 198.] The relatives, men and women, who help the shaman by singing for him, and in other ways, take emetics for several days in advance, and also fast for 24 hours, from the morning of the day of the seance untU the foUowing morning. In preparation, Krause also reports, the house is cleaned, with new boards put by the fire. The shaman, as usual, runs around the fire, faUs into a trance, and the spirit in him speaks. Then food and tobacco are served to the guests. Erman also described such a performance held in November (Krause, 1956, pp. 198-199). The guests were high class men and women sitting on an upper bench in the big house. Hundreds of naked men with daggers (presumably the shaman's kinsmen) threatened the guests and pursued the shaman as he ran around the fire. The latter wore a helmetlike mask, repre- senting an animal, and imitated its movements; he also puUed a burning log from the fire and tossed it about. He was finaUy caught, bound, covered with a mat, and dragged into the back room behind a curtain. This performance was repeated several times, each time with the shaman wearing a different animal costume, and it ended with him uttering a prophecy in the rear room. Rivalry When rival shamans met, this was often expressed in the form of competitive displays of their powers. Thus: "Tek-'ic sent his spirit to the Copper River doctor to see which one was stronger. He came to Yakutat and then Tet-'ic learned those Copper River songs. "The Copper River doctor could hck a red hot rock. Everyone sat around and he put on a performance to show how powerful his spirit was. My mother told me." The informant gestured to indicate how the doctor rubbed his tongue on the hot rock; accompanying this was an imitation of the sizzling sound. "His tongue just smokes. But when he get over his performance, nothing is the matter with his tongue. "That's why Tek-'ic stabbed his side-kick [Skin Canoe George] with that big copper knife. He feU right by the man who beat the drum. My mother see it. He was stabbed right here in the chest . . . [and as usual recovered at once]. I think that Copper River doctor thought my uncle was more powerful." (MJ) They were fighting to see which was the stronger, the informant explained on another occasion. Tek-'ic in Yakutat and Qutcda in Dry Bay used to "talk to one another, [to see] who got the most power. They send the spirit Iback and forth." This would be done in the wintertime when no one would be traveling IN THREE PARTS SHAMANISM 707 between the settlements. The shamans woxUd "just send a message. . . . They wanted to know who's the strongest Indian doctor that is" (MJ). One gathers that this kind of rivalry coiUd hardly be resolved, and certahaly no judgment of the doctor's clairvoyance could be made untU people began to travel back and forth again in the spring. Rival shamans sometimes fought to the death. The big strong one, that is, the man who practiced sexual abstinence and observed all the other taboos and whose sib was numerous, would kUl the weak, httle doctor, I was told. Both would be aware of the enmity of the other, because their watching yek would warn them, or they themselves would see the inimical spirit sent by their enemy. One informant thought that the Sitka Kagwantan shaman, TACI-'IC, was probably stronger than Qutcda of Dry Bay, and suggested that the latter might say, "TAci-'ic wants to kUl me," if he should see the latter's yek flying around up in the air. The fight would actuaUy be between the yek of the two shamans. One spirit would chase the other. If one yek were kUled its master woiUd die, no matter how many other yek that doctor might have. When asked to teU about an actual kiUing of this kind, my informant said that TAci-'ic had once kUled the yek of some other doctor, beheved to be a CxAtqwan man (of WrangeU), although his name was forgotten. This episode occurred in Sitka. In teUing the story, the words yek and 'ixt' were used ahnost interchangeably, but we gather that the WrangeU 'ixt' died when his yek was kUled. Although no one could see it, TAci-'ic took the whole 'ixt (yek) skin and hung it up. Then with his knife he scraped the oU from the skin, put it in his mouth, and spat it into the fire. The fire flared up and made a noise, "just hke you put oU on it." To perform this miraciUous feat, TAci-'ic used a real knife. Olson's Chilkat mformant (1962, pp. 208, 212-214) also told of fights between shamans, which suggest that a kind of "cannibahsm" may have been involved in this case. For example, during the first retreat of the novice, his yek may order him to go (in spirit) to "kiU" another shaman, so that the yek may "eat the fat" of the latter. This unfortunate victim therefore wastes away, and wiU ultimately die, unless his spirits are strong enough to counteract the damage done. One story of a fight between a Xashittan (Cow House Line- age) shaman of the Tanta-qwan and a Ti'iiknaxAdi shaman who hved "at the mouth of the Copper River" (Alsek?), teUs how these two and their spirits fought each other to the death. First, a spirit sent from the Copper River shaman clubbed to "death" the Xashittan shaman and "ate" him. "The victorious spirit and his master both became fat." The i^ashittan shaman was not reaUy dead, however, and was able to retahate successfuUy. He was assisted by his coUeagues at home, aU of whom fought off the spirits of his rival with clubs. FinaUy, with knives they "cut the fat from the 'body' [of the slain Tl'uknaxAdi doctor], roasted it, and ate it. The watching laymen could see nothing of course." In this way, the shaman at Copper River was kiUed. We are further given to understand that a shaman may have to make himself get fat by "kiUing" and "eating" his rivals, for the spirits wiU not enter one who is too thin. Thus, the Xashittan shaman got him- self into condition to carry on the fight against his northern rival by sending his spirits to kUl eight south- ern doctors, so that he could eat them. This notion of "spiritual cannibahsm" as practiced by rival shamans in different locahties is common among the Atna of the Copper River (fieldnotes with Dr. McCleUan, Copper Center, 1958, 1960). The Chilkat may have learned it from their interior neigh- bors, for it was not one that was heard at Yakutat, unless it was imphed in the story about TACI-'IC. The fight between TAci-'ic and the WrangeU shaman took place about the tune of the war between the Sitka Kagwantan and the CxAtqwan (pp. 279-284), and my informant compared the "'ixt' sneaking around," to mihtary reconnaissance parties—"hke the Americans, when they had a war, they go sneaking around." The activities of shamans in wartime have been Ulustrated by the accounts of the war between the Tl'uknaxAdi and the Tlaxayik-Teqwedi (pp. 263, 264), and especiaUy in one version of the war between the Tl'uknaxAdi and the QauAxtedi of Chilkat (pp. 273-274). Harrington was told that during a war between Indian groups at Sitka, before the days of the Russians, one "spirit doctor kept it from raining all summer to keep the Indians in the fort to top of the hiU from getting any water." The touchiness of shamans was extreme. They were evidently inclined to ascribe any failure on their part, even any awkward motion in a seance (which, of course, would drive away their yek), to the machinations of a rival. At least we can so interpret the extreme (ahnost paranoid?) embarrassment suffered by the shaman who was humihated by the WrangeU doctor (p. 715). A shaman might also feel bitter resentment if he thought that a layman had injured him, and he would use his powers for revenge in such a case. That a sha- man could cause disaster, as weU as prevent it, is iUustrated by the foUowing episode. "Y^-tled [White Raven] was a doctor. He had that name even though he was a Teqwedi. His wife left him and he thought she was on a boat leaving Yakutat. As it was going around the point, he said: 'That boat is not going to come back!' He was suiging and making funny motions with his hands [to curse it]. And the boat sank and didn't come back. But his wife had gotten off; she wasn't on it." 708 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 This man was Situk George (Qayak'^-'ic) who died in 1921. He obtained the name White Raven in a peace ceremony. Although another informant denied scornfully that he had been a shaman, and this story would indicate that at best he achieved only limited success, he evidently did aspire to shamanistic powers, for others had witnessed him giving a seance. Curing the Sick One of the most important functions of the shaman was to ciu-e the sick. The Indian doctor was usuaUy not consulted except for a sudden violent iUness or wound, or in cases where a hngering and serious afflic- tion resisted the usual remedies. When caUed, it was customary for the doctor to go to his patient, and the curing session often took place in pubhc in the main room of the patient's house. The cm"e was, in fact, simply a special kind of seance. The fee always had to be paid in advance to secure the cooperation of the spirits. Sometimes the patient of a male shaman was a woman, but even then no woman would sing or beat the tapping sticks for the doctor. When he came to treat the sick woman, the doctor was always alone; there were no other men or women with him and his patient (CW). Hov^ever, the shamanistic curing cere- monies witnessed by Seton-Karr and Professor Libbey at Yakutat in 1886 were held in the main room where there were persons of both sexes (see pp. 720-722). When asked if a doctor could help a woman in childbirth, I was told: "Of course he can help a woman having a hard time with a baby. He isn't caUed, but is notified. They paid him valuable stuff, and his spirit is going to help because his master's been paid." (MJ) Before attempting a cure, Tek-'ic would fast and thirst for 8 days. In addition, he had to be paid. "Some- times pretty sick man, they give 20 blankets." According to Swanton (1908, p. 464), the Tlingit shaman began his cure by running around the fire. He might blow on, or suck, or rub the afflicted parts with some item of his paraphernalia. Eagle down and red paint also had restorative virtues. A cure might be effected by extracting the object which had been sent into the patient. In such a case the shaman would indicate the witch responsible. Yakutat informants also reported that a variety of methods might be employed by shamans. One man, for example, demonstrated how Tek-'ic would seize the sick man by the shoulders and shake him, uttering a cry like a muffled shout. Sometimes the patient would exclaim, "Say it again, Tek-'ic! Say it again!" And Tek-'ic would go "X^! x^! x^! x'^!" Again the patient would cry, "Say it agam!" The informant was stuttering and bouncing in his chau- with excitement (CW). Tek-'ic also had a song which he sang to the patient. Everyone, that is, aU the men, but no women, helped him to sing. He might cut a httle piece from the garment of the sick man and put it into a bucket of water. He would look at it "to see it alive. He wants to save that man." If it were put into the water, the patient would recover. (This account of the procedure was confused. Probably the informant was trying to explain that the man was sick because a witch had cut off part of his clothing, but that the patient would recover if the shaman washed another piece. See p. 723.) Tek-'ic also gave medicine to the sick man to eat, and "next day he's feeling good." For example, the doctor might chew some devUclub first and then give it to the patient. The doctor had "lots of kinds of medicines," but these were unspecified. There was also a suggestion that the patient offered food to the doctor. "Anything he wants to eat too, he gives to 'ixt'. The next day he's feeling good." As in the case of the devUclub, it is assumed that the shaman tasted the food before the patient ate some. If a man had a bad headache, the shaman would grab the patient's head. "He's holdiug it hke that," in both hands. His song would be sung. "Good song! Strong song!" Then the patient would he down whUe the doctor ran around him—"the same as the sun, eight times. Everybody sings." (Swanton, 1908, p. 464, notes that the Tlingit think of the sun's course as directly opposite to what we consider sunwise.) The same informant said he had seen Tek-'ic curing a sick man. The latter was lying down, his chest bared, while the shaman leaned over him. "He's going to look for the things on sick man. Everything he has on, clean out. ... I think he's got medicine in his hand to clean up. Sometimes 2, 3 days, he wake up, that sick man. I saw that one time on other side of Kliantaak." Apparently the shaman rubbed his hand around on the patient's chest and sang, using his rattle, while his assistants beat time mth tapping sticks. On this occa- sion the doctor's face was daubed with black and his hair was piled up on his head. (CW) Another method of ciu"ing the sick was for the doctor to make a ring of devUclubs (cf. pi. 198) and have the patient step through it. The informant was questioned about this because the method was one used by Eyak shamans in cases of witchcraft. (Birket-Smith and de Laguna, 1938, pp. 204-206.) My Yakutat informant said that they "do that here, too. 'Ixt' has to do that for you. He makes it. You put it on. 'IxtJ puts it on somebody that's sick. . . . Just once. Sometimes two times. IN THREE PARTS SHAMANISM 709 Sometimes four times." (CW) He was astonished to learn that an Eyak shaman was reported to have done it eight times. "Pretty bad sick—^eight times!" Krause (1958, pp. 202-203) describes a curing cere- mony witnessed by his brother at a hunting camp of the Hoonah Tlingit on Lynn Canal in September 1882. A smaU boy was the patient, many women were present as sUent witnesses, whUe several men beat time for the shaman with sticks on a board. The latter wore a crown of wooden rods and a dancing kUt, and used a rattle in the shape of a crane. He grasped the head and feet of the boy with a pair of wooden tongs, laid the chUd's hands on his own body, and finaUy led him around the fire, first in one direction, then in the other. Krause understood that the natives beheved the iUness to have been caused by "evU spirits," which the shaman drove away. The most famous examples of miraculous cures by shamans were the treatment by Cak^e of the boys who had been stabbed by their uncle (see pp. 714-715), and by Tek-'ic of Bear Bit BUly (p. 716). Cases of shaman- istic diagnosis of witchcraft are discussed in a later section. The attempt by a shaman to cure an Indian who was dying of arsenic poisoning WELS described both by Professor Libbey and by Seton-Karr, who witnessed this on Khantaak Island in August, 1886. This account is quoted m fuU (pp. 721-722). There were definite limitations on a shaman's abUity to cure or save. Thus, he could not help his own chU- dren if they were witched. Even though shamans of different sibs were extremely jealous of each other, a shaman had to stand aside if one of his own kinsmen were sick, whUe a shaman from a different sib was caUed in. A shaman could not cure a member of his own sib of an Uhiess. This is probably because sickness was usuaUy attributed to witchcraft from within the sib, and a shaman was never asked to expose a sib brother as a witch. Perhaps the shaman would be afraid, or his spirits would be powerless in such a case. I did not learn why he would not attempt the cure. "He can," an informant hazarded, "but maybe there's a reason why he can't." In a similar way, the shaman would not know if something were going to happen to hunself, that is, his spirits would not warn hun of an impending accident or of his own death. However, a shaman could cure his own sibmate or chUd of a wound, for the woman, Cak'^e, healed her own sons whom her brother had stabbed, and Tek-'ic used to stab and heal his assistant who was Teqwedi lUie hunself. A shaman coiUd also rescue a young sib- mate from the Land Otter Men (see pp. 752-753). A shaman could help his brothers in hunting and protect them from wUd animals (see pp. 712, 715). Just as the shaman wore charms or amulets and might use these m treatmg a patient (see pp. 689, 708), so he might give or prescribe an amulet to prevent or ward off iUness. I was told of a shaman who came from WrangeU to Yakutat and was hired by a local man to minister to his famUy. The shaman pronoimced aU the members weU, except for one daughter. That httle girl looked to him "like a tree, one side old." He foretold that she would get "that sickness," and would die. To prevent this, the doctor ordered that a rock from the lowest tide level (cAnya teyi) be put "around her clothes, way down." She was to keep this rock for 4 days, then put it in a tree. But the father misunderstood, and thought she was to keep the rock aU her life. Later, when she was taking a bath in the house, she lost the amulet. Some time after that, one warm summer day, when she was washing clothes at the pond behind the house, she saw an eagle flying around. It swooped down on her four times, and on the last time dropped the lost amulet right on her clothes. The bird circled round her four times and then flew away. Although the girl subsequently died, the mother stUl has the amulet, a httle pebble as big as the tip of her finger. This is why she beheves that shamans obtain their yek from birds and animals, and I was given to understand that the WrangeU shaman must have had an eagle spirit, since it was an eagle that returned the amulet. IVlinor Ailments The shaman Tek-'ic was also caUed upon sometimes to minister to aUments of his brother's chUdren. Twice the little girl had hurt her foot and he cured it, appar- ently by lancing the infected wound to let out the pus. He also cut and drained the swoUen glands of her httle brother when the latter had mumps. On these occasions, the chUdren were so terrified of their uncle that they had to be blindfolded. Their father carried them to the shaman and held them whUe the latter operated. The doctor told the chUdren's mother to leave and to teU the other people to go out, because he didn't want them to know what he was doing. He did not need to have his assistant with him for such little cuts; only two men were on hand, but no women. The woman whose foot he had lanced when she was a httle girl said: "He just make some kind of a noise, and felt around" the bottom of her foot. She herself could not feel what he did, and the next day the pain was gone. I was able to discuss Tek-'ic's lancmg of mumps and a simUar case I had seen among the West Green- land Eskuno hi 1929 with the doctor on the U.S. Public Health Service vessel, Storis. The doctor told me that 710 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 common diseases often struck natives with extraordi- nary virulence, producing abscesses with pus, and cited several horrible examples. He believed it quite possible for mumps to affect the glands in the neck in this fashion, in which event the shaman's surgery may not have been as bad a treatment as one might suppose. A shaman might use a sharp knife, or in lancing a boU would use an eagle quUl. Epidemics Far more serious than the iUness of a single person or the poisoning of a few, were epidemics that devas- tated the Tlingit viUages. These infectious diseases were all ones contracted from the Whites, and were espe- ciaUy terrible because the natives lacked any acquired immunity to them, or any knowledge of medical treat- ment which might have aUeviated their symptoms. Epidemics were beheved to be the work of spirits that came in boats, sometimes paddhng in canoes, or riduig in a sailing ship or even in a steamboat. They were invisible to any eyes but those of the shaman. In the boat were aU those who had previously died of the disease, and in this way they traveled to the Land of the Dead, 'way back,' where go the souls of those who died nonviolent deaths. Some persons received such disease spirits as their yek, and so became shamans (see pp. 713, 769). A shaman could see the 'boat of sickness' (nik^ yagu), containing aU those who had died of the disease. As people died they entered the boat, and when the epidemic had run its course in one locality, the boat would sail away, perhaps to go to another. "That's the way the 'ixt' sees it." Some- times he could drive away the disease spirits, the ghosts of the dead, so that "sickness gets sent away in that boat." I beheve that this abihty would depend upon his possession of the right kind of spirits. The Tluk^axAdi shamans, SstAu, QunanistE, and Qutcda had as yek the 'Fish People' (xat qwani) that were supposedly as effective in combating epidemics as they were iu locating and rescuing persons feared drowned. This was because "sickness just comes from the water, not from the woods." As explained by this informant, "When they got sickness around, that's the time they go to their master. Just hke you got some kind of pets, that's the way it is." These spu-its would come to warn the shaman when "something's going to happen." "That xat qwani—if there's going to be sickness, if they're going to have bad luck, or some kind of sickness—that xat qwani teUs Qutcda. Then Qutcda teUs the people: 'There's going to be some sickness.' " To ward off the threatened epidemic, aU the people would form a long line inside the house, sing the xat qwani song (1954, 2-2-C, D; p. 1282), and dance, scattering eagle down with their hands, or "using that eagle taU," "to chase that sickness away." The offi- ciating shaman was "aU dressed up." The informant liked these spirit songs, and their hvely, jumping dance, like leaping salmon. Meantime, the shaman's two assistants, "that 'ixt xan qawu—two people go around with that 'ixt' aU the time,"—would get devUclubs and fasten their thorny stems "on the door" of aU the houses, to defend them against the entrance of the disease spirits. Spruce or hemlock branches would be put on the fire and, when the needles began to burn, the boughs were beaten on the floor. This also would help to drive away the sickness. "Every morning, too, they take that ashes; they throw it outside by the door. The sickness scared of that thing, they said." STORIES ABOUT SHAMANS Xatgawet as Shaman XATGAWET AND THE CHILDREN OF THE SUN "Xatgawet was a big Indian doctor—the strongest and the biggest. And he's rich." He had many yek. The strongest was QAgan- yAtxi, 'the ChUdren of the Sun,' the sun up in the sky. This was the same yek that Tek-'ic had later. The brief account of how this yek was (were) obtained has been summarized on pages 679 and 680. It wUl be remembered that one of his yek was the spirit of an otter that had dropped dead at the waterhole. Xatgawet took its skin and fashioned this into a httle canoe with eight copper crossbars. This was when he wanted to acquire the ChUdren of the Sun. The canoe was caUed their boat (gAgan-yAtii yagu). They came to him, presumably because they found the little skin boat so attractive. IN THREE PARTS SHAMANISM 711 Xatgawet was a strong doctor because he made his spirit grow by taking care of himself, as a shaman is supposed to do. (HKB) The song associated with the ChUdren of the Sun was twice recorded (1954, 6-1-A and 6-1-J; p. 1280). The song is in two parts, the first with a fast irregular tempo, the second much slower and more regular. The words, which are evidently Tsimshian, were not understood by the singers. "I never understood what that does mean . . . it's spirit words. That's Indian doctor's spirit words." (SW) This informant knew the song because it had been sung at potlatches as a mourning song by the Teqwedi. Another singer gave a somewhat confused account of these spirits. "AU Teqwedi 'ixt have the ChUdren of the Sun. Their mother was Teq^ca. Tek-'ic had it. The first one that got it was Xatgawet—^big, rich man, used to be in Yakutat. He's the one got it first. After he died, another one coining up after him. He got it too." The words of the song were definitely identified as Tsimshian. "The spirits were coining this way from that place, from southeast Alaska. They passed by aU the different tribes there, Kagwantan—aU. But they could see Xatgawet here in Yakutat from way down there. He got it from an Indian doctor. [Apparently the spirits passed by the shamans of other tribes be- cause they] looked like a log-timber." But Xatgawet, who was a big, rich man with lots of slaves, "looked better" to them. (NM, somewhat edited.) ]^TGAWET AND THE TSIMSHIAN DOCTOR [The foUowing story was told by HKB. A shaman is supposed to take care of himself in order to make his power grow stronger.] And that's the way that IXatgawet did at Diyaguna- 'Et. And a Tsimshian [doctor's spirit] came, and his power was too strong, and the Indian doctor's spirit got X^atgawet. ^latgawet didn't do anything. That Tsim- shian spirit went back home, don't do anything. [Apparently this power contest ended in a draw.] So this spirit came back, and he invited Xatgawet and his wife, Tl'e'an [to visit him]. It's winter time. Early morning. Xatgawet got up. The law is that way: A little whUe he don't eat, for 4 days, no drink water or nothing. That's Indian doctor law. After 8 days he eat a httle bit, but not much. Then he told his people he had been invited by the Tsimshian doctor. He's going to go with his wife. As soon as he said it, he just dropped dead, him and his wife. And they took the bodies to that place caUed gau Ua [drum room], just a special room where the Indian doctor keeps his drum and aU his power, those masks and aU. Those two bodies [were] in there. [They] put fine feathers on the mouth. Sometimes those people just fool, and play dead. If the feather don't move, they know they're dead. The feather never move. They're invited. He don't eat about 2 days already. He don't eat, him and his wife. Just about starting getting dark, they're coming back alive, him and his wife. Then he teU the story [about] where they [had been] invited. [The wife had one hand cramped shut. She opened it.] She's got some berries in her hand. "That's the handout that the Tsimshians give us," she says. They give it to her. The Indian doctor's spirit dance in the Tlingit-way language they caU it yek 'Ati—'the spirit dance.' That's what they see at the Tsimshian [place]. And that big Indian doctor was dancuig, they said. That Indian doctor had a hat—Wh.ale KiUer Hat. And those Tsimshian Indians give it to this ?!atgawet, and those songs. And so they made one here at Yakutat, almost as big as this table [about 5 feet in diameter]. Make out of spruce roots hke a basket. The top on it, just round, about that high [2 feet], with rings on it. First hat that came to Yakutat. They don't see it before. His spirit see it. So they make it at Yakutat for Xatgawet. Kit sax'' [KiUerwhale Hat], they caU it. And the songs, he learn aU the songs. So he gets his spirit from that Tsimshian yek. . . . They caU him 'Brave Man'—liga qa. [The informant was not sure of the name.] He's got so many yeks and it's so long ago. Those songs, those yek songs, those spirit songs, I don't know how many of them—so many. [They were Tsimshian songs with Tsimshian words. Now they are forgotten. The only one who used to sing them was Jim Kardeetoo. The informant had heard him sing one at a potlatch, presumably in memory of a dead Teqwedi shaman.] WHEN XATGAWET'S WIFE BROKE THE RULES [The foUowing episode was told by HKB, to iUustrate the fact that a shaman's wife had to foUow the same rules about eating and drinking as her husband.] Once Xatgawet went out. It's the time [of] special care—never eat. And he went. When he was in the woods some place, one of his wives spiUed the water. He knows it right away. The woman is so thirsty she steal water [i.e., took a forbidden drink]. He was in the woods. On the way back he finds a big river [where there had been none before]. He couldn't get across. That woman's so thirsty, she can't help it. She steal water. 712 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 He didn't lose his power. [Probably in answer to a question.] He said to his helpers, "One of my wives stealing water. It makes a big river." How a JVlan Acquired Land Otter Spirits [The foUowing was told by JE. This story should be compared with the story of Kaka, a shaman of Sitka, as recounted by Krause (1956, p. 197) and Swanton (1909, Tales 5 and 31, pp. 87-88); see pp. 749-750.] [A man had been captured—or "saved"—by the land otter spirits.] These kucda qwani were taking him back in a boat. They were paddling. They're supposed to go ashore before the crow [raven] makes a sound [at dawn]. But instead of that, they ask him to sing a song: "YAude hat [xat?]—current ashore!" Instead of that, he start to sing "DAkde hat—current offshore!" They had a hard time [paddling against the current]; they tried to make it. When they came ashore that crow already sounded. They covered him with gAtc [grass mat]. He's not supposed to look no place. But when they came ashore, the raven already crowed. When he looks up, aU those land otters were dead there. He tm-ned into spirit—became 'ixt. He don't cut no tongue—nothing. Those otters came to him. du 'iuAx ye'uwa'At—aU those spirits 'got in him.* The land otter spirits are kucda qu yek. It's the same thing as hAs du y^k^qah^yagu, 'their spirits after they're dead.' [This story was recently enacted in a dramatic dance at Juneau, which was thus described by a visitor from Yakutat, SA.] The man from Sitka was being brought back by land otters. They got to Baranoff Island and they died. He's on a high cliff. He hears something under him: "Jump on me!" Three times it called. Then he jumped on it. It was a big log under the cliff. He jumped on it and then he didn't know himself. That's how he became an Indian doctor ('ixt qusiti). How a Man Acquired Disease Spirits [The foUowmg was told by JE, March 22, 1954.] [One type of spirit is called] kawayik kusAXA qwan- 'the people rowing around in space,' in the air. This man heard something say, "Look, it's over there." He looked, and he saw those boats were coming up to him. He sat down [to hide?]. He sat down, and when he sat down, he didn't know what to do, so he got up again. And they, the kawayik KUSAXA qwan, said the same thing: "He's over there." [They were telhng one another.] He sat down again, and finally thought about running. FinaUy he started to run. He was running, and pretty soon those things came into him—just like 'ixt—the spirits came inside him. But the last, I don't know. John WUhams told me a long time ago. . . . Human eyes can't see that [the 'people rowing around in space'], but this man can see them. This 'ixt:, he claims that when these spirits spear a human, that's when they get pneumonia. Daxodzu, the Female Shaman DAXODZU AND THE ARROW [The foUowing story is compUed from two versions told by EE, August 5, 1952 and March 21, 1954, and one version by JE, March 15, 1954, aU of which were in substantial agreement. The latter prefaced the story by explaining:] The last, best chief around here used to have an arrow called qdcgll [a blunt-headed arrow, made for chUdren]. You can shoot anything with it. That chief never uses it until he's reaUy ready to kUl something. He used to take a lot of people out seal hunting, and when he picks up that one, the people teU each other that he picked up that qdcgll. It was a magic arrow- something to do with shamans. (JE) Daxodzu, sister to the Kwackqwan chief, Yaxodaqet, was a powerful Indian doctor. She was a young girl when she received her spirit, reputedly from her uncle or a brother. When she was becoming a shaman, she gave a blunt- headed arrow (qacgll) to her brother, and told him to shoot at a seagull sitting on the rock. He shot at the seaguU, but instead of hitting it, the arrow hit the rock, yet the seagull fell down. The arrow went into the rock and stayed there. When her brothers went over there, none of them could puU it out. Yaxodaqet tried, but couldn't do it. His sister laughed. "What's the matter with you?" And she pulled it out. She gave it to him (Yaxodaqet), and said, "That's going to be the one you use. This is sure kUl." IN THREE PARTS SHAMANISM 713 When they went out hunting sea otter, he used it. It goes right through the heart. She blessed the arrow. Other people would pay a thousand doUars for that arrow, but she gave it to her brother. He never used it wrong; he always used it right. He could kUl anything with it, but he had a limit—maybe two seals, or three. When he became a chief he had stream guards put on to see that nobody fools around— hke now [i.e., hke fish and game wardens]. When they start seal hunting up the bay, he sent a guard up there to see that nobody fools around [i.e., frightens away the game]. He lets everyone get satisfied first, then he hunts with his qacgll. They claim he was one of the best chiefs in Yakutat. DAXODZU AND THE RUSSIANS [This story was told by JE, March 25, 1954, and recorded by him in Tlmgit; 1954, 2-1-A.] Daxodzu had "Spirit on Top of the Smoke above the VUlage"—'AU kA ^eqi cAxan yegi ['spirit on the top point of the smoke above the viUage']. AU the viUage smoke came up into one big point. Some people say it [the spirit] looks like an eagle. It always sits on top of the smoke. Once she said: hak! waska dEn dzigit 'an ^eqi cAxan yegi?—"Hak! I wonder what he's doing, that spirit on top of the viUage smoke?" It's just as if he's watching somethuig coming under him. That's what it looks like to her. He's way up on top of that smoke and he sees something coming under him. [What he saw, it is made clear later, was the messenger coming to announce the arrival of the Russian ships.] After she got over that, she said: gAgan yuuA xixni, 'At 'ulaxx gAxtu'ax—"When the sun comes to that position, we're going to hear [the cry of one announcing news]." They claim that when somebody is bringing the news, they cry "hi- ho- hi- ho-." They put their paddles back and forth. That's what that is—'At 'ulaxi. "They're going to hear it"—the signal that they're bringing news. So they were watching ('akat hAs yuden). And then pretty soon the sun came to that position, and the canoe is coming in, the same thing like she said. Then somebody says: yAu yel nikde—"Break the news now!" That's the way I interpret it. So the messenger said: '"an tleu dziduk 'ixki—It looks as if the whole bay were covered with ships." [LiteraUy, 'ships look-like all-covered down-this-way.'] They caU ships 'an ['vUlage'] because there's so many people in them. It was a lot of Russian ships anchored in the bay, so that story isn't very old. [The informant had forgotten the rest of the story. He added that Daxodzu was supposed to have been descended from Xatgawet, the one who caUed the viUage on Knight Island "Old Town" (TlAk^-'an).] Daxodzu just said that something was coming to the vUlage. She didn't say anything about the ships. That yek never come to the point of what he's saying. [A person who never comes to the point is therefore com- pared to a spirit, see p. 702.] [Another informant added that Daxodzu's spirits were eventuaUy inherited by the Kwackqwan shamans, DanAq-'ic and Ceq. The Indian victory over the Russians was credited to her yek.] "Because when the time the ships left Russia, these Indian doctors knows it, and they wait for them, and told how many days it would be before they came." [According to some, Daxodzu was said to have lived on Knight Island, and was even believed to have been the shaman whose grave was found in the woods back of the site of Old Town (de Laguna et al., 1964, pp. 35-36). The smoke from the viUage was supposed to have been so great that it would asphyxiate any raven attempting to fly over (see p. 66). One wonders, therefore, whether her "spirit on top of the viUage smoke" may not have been derived from such a raven, especiaUy since the Kwackqwan have the Raven for a sib crest, and would be likely to have a raven yek.] How QAJaxett Became a Shaman [The foUowing story was told by Mrs. CJ, June 7, 1954. It has been slightly edited.] My father was Ciyi&li"- His mother's father was a Kagwantan man named QAlaxetl and Ltunei. He became a shaman after visiting "Disease Boat." This happened in Dry Bay, when sickness (Imgit 'ani 'Adi) or smaUpox (kwan) kUled everyone. He "died" from that sickness for 4 days. His chUdren were crying and his wife watched the body. The next day [after he died?] he made a noise, and the next day he made a noise. And in 4 days he came back. That's yek business. He said that he had seen this boat before he died. When he was dead, he was on the shore, and he saw a big black boat with sails, like a schooner. It wasn't caUed "schooner" ('an), because that was before schooners. They just caUed it yak'^-tlen ['large canoe']. There were lots of people on it. A smaU canoe with 714 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 four black men came to the shore to get him and take him to the schooner. He went close to the big boat, but he was so lonesome for his wife and kids that he turned back again to the shore. The men in the boat told him, "You try the song. You [are] yek sAk"^ ['destined to be a yek' or shaman]. You're going to be yek yourself." He heard the song. The yek composed it. They said, "Go ahead, try it. That's for your daughter." When he came back to the shore and came ahve, that was the end of the sickness. No more died. He just waved his hand—no more sickness. The four black men became his yek. They were caUed Imgit-'ani-'Adi qu yek, "Disease Spirits" [literaUy, *Things-of-the-world spirits']. He had four songs. [The narrator, summarizing this account in the Tlingit in- troduction, recorded two: 1954, 5-2-G and 5-2-H; p. 1282. The words of both are in Tsimshian.] He hved one hundred years after that, so long that his bones became very smaU [that is, he became aU hunched over]. My father inherited his grandfather's yek blanket. He tried to teach me to cure Avith my hands. I can do this a little. The Female Shaman, Cak^e, and the Chief Who Stabbed His Nephews [This account is compUed from five fragmentary versions told by two informants, one of whom is the daughter's daughter's daughter of Cak^e, and the other her sister's son's son (HB June 26, 1952, July 14, 1952, August 10, 1952, May 31, 1954; HKB May 2, 1954. These versions are all in substantial agreement except where indicated.] This happened up north in Beaver House, at QAxtale [Okalee Spit, ControUer Bay], where there was a camp. Cak''^ was the sister of the Galyix-Kagwantan chief, 'Axaqudulu, She was one of the strongest Indian doc- tors, and had cut eight tongues. She was young when she got her power, which came to her from her great- greatgrandfather. She used to put on her girdles [ket, 'apron'] with bones, and her brothers would sit around in the big community house. She jumps up aU of a sudden; she puts her girdle on. AU her assistants (male) start to beat the drum, and she jumps around the fire. And the brothers just sit and watch. Her brother, the big chief, used to send his nephews into the water early in the morning. It was cold. Then he would beat them with brush. In olden days they hit each other with alder branches. training for the war. No gun—knife, spear was what they used. So every morning they used to send the boys in the water, and hit them with the alder branches. The uncles or brothers would take those kids down to the water in winter time to give them a bath, so they can be brave when they grow up. And they club one another with those icy branches. When one falls he has to stand up quickly, see how many strokes he can stand. Sometimes about 10, then he faUs down. That's what they do for war. That time, there were four boys who hid behind the bench in the house. Three or four of the boys ran be- hind the waU and hid. Those httle, smaU Kagwantan boys, they hid in the back room where they keep food while the testing is going on. The chief finds out his little nephews are cowards. And he don't say anything untU everybody comes up. They sit way down in the center [of the house]. He was sharpening his knife, just sharpening it. And he ask for his nephew. Just calm, he's not excited. "Send them over," he said. And they came over. And they don't know what he's going to do. To the first one he caUed, "Come over here. Come here, my nephew." The boy came. "You hiding." The boy said, "Yes." "AU right. I'U give you the worst one!" He just cut him up—'[two slashings across the chest]. Shove him away. And he caUed another one. "Come here." And the other one—[he] just run toward him and grab him. Stab him. Push him away. Four of them. Sitka Ned was there, too, but he belonged to another tribe, Teqwedi, and he didn't want to hurt him, so he hit him with the back of his knife. Jim Kardeetoo was was there, too. [Not confirmed. If so, he would have been no more than a baby.] [According to one version, the boys feU down dead at once. But according to another, they feU unconscious a little later, after their uncle had spoken to them.] The chief told the boys: "This is what you're train- ing for. You can't get away from it. Next time you hide away, I'U cut your head off." Their mother, Cak'^e, an Indian doctor, strongest doctor, cured them. That's the time that Indian doctor, Cak'^e, came along. They're dead, they can't do anything. They put them on boards, and she told them to put the kids up high on the shelf. Then she went into action, dancing singing, and running around the fire. Somebody beat the drum and she got more powerfiU. It was a man drummer. She has to work hard dancing. She ran around the fire, singing and making noises, and she made them come ahve. She has somebody to watch those boys, see if they're getting ahve. Yes, they're beginning to move. She start to run again until they were sitting up. And they came back ahve. AU the scars are just healed IN THREE PARTS SHAMANISM 715 up in one minute. I don't know how that could be, that they were healed right there. Sitka Ned teUs the story. [A descendant of Cak'^e was named for her brother, the chief, but later a scar or birthmark was noticed on his body. Then people reahzed that he was reaUy a reincarnation of one of the boys who had been cut. The scar was his yAhayi (see p. 766)]. How a Wrangell Shaman was Defeated [The foUowing story, told by JE, May 9, 1954, has been shghtly edited. It resembles one told at Angoon, about a Daql'awedi shaman from Hood Bay, Admiralty Island, who was embarrassed by a woman shaman in a chaUenge contest, but who later obtained his revenge (de Laguna, 1960, pp. 140 f.).] Those people in WrangeU used to be a rough bunch. . . . They were a pretty friendly lot of people, but they always want to laugh at people—always want to fool around with people [i.e., play practical jokes]. They even fix up one shaman one time. Real close friends. There was a woman shaman there hving at Stikine, and this man, he's a shaman, he always goes over there and visits the Stikine people. When a canoe comes over there, they aU come down, grab the boat and try to push it in the water [to prevent it from landing]. They just fool around with it aU the time. And after that, they pack the whole canoe, people and aU, pack it up above the tide hue. That's the way they do. And pretty soon they hire this shaman [the visitor], and this woman shaman was there, too. But this woman shaman she fixed it so he'd make an awkward motion when he was running around the fire. His movements were aU awkward, and when the spirit got away, he was reaUy ashamed of himself. He don't hke it. He went back and he worked so his spirit can be stronger. Then pretty soon he was ready. He was going back again [to WrangeU]. And he filled up those skin bags with oil or something. [The informant forgot what kind of spirit he had, and apparently put into the bags.] And when he was coming to those people, they were laughing at him. They said, "Here comes that shaman that makes an awkward movement." But before he came around there, he fixed it so a man there would get sick. And he's sick. And when they come right close to shore, they just stuck that pole right on the bottom there. [This was apparently the one used to pole the shaman's canoe.] It just stick out, and they [the WrangeU people] try to puU it out, and they couldn't make it. And that big bag of oU, too, they try to pull it from the boat. They couldn't make it. And when he started to walk up, those people gath- ered in front of a different house [from that of the pa- tient, to fool the doctor]. That man who was sick was in a different house. And he just take his stick [shaman's cane] and throw it down, and it start to crawl hke a worm. Just crawl in front of him and went in that house where the man was sick. And that woman doctor was there, too, and she couldn't find out what was wrong. And then he [the shaman] told his nephew, "What's aU that commotion down the beach?" His nephew went down there and just took that bag with one arm, and throw it over his shoulder, and went up. PuUed that pole out of the water, too. He was showing them how strong he is. FinaUy they started in again, around that fire [i.e., both doctors were giving a seance]. When they started, that woman's dress just wrapped [itself] around her. And some people watching on the roof, too, where that smokehole is. And that woman's son was among them, too. . . . He was standing outside the house, looking down through that smoke skyhght. . . . He got mad. He run out of there. . . . He fell down and that [canoe] pole pierced right through him—dead. When they brought it [his body], he [the shaman] fix it, and brought it back to life again. And after his spirit[s] aU went away, this big man there got cured. [This was the man he had originaUy made sick.] And then he just took off. That's the last visit he made them, because he returned what they done to him. [The narrator added that because of this episode, when they had the peace ceremony at Sitka (1852), they just kUled off aU the WrangeU people, instead of settluig the matter peaceably (see pp. 279-284).] The Stikine people, C:^tqwan were the biggest tribe. But they always want to fool around aU the time. Further Reminiscences of Tek'-'ic TEK'-'IC AND THE BEARS [The foUowing story has been edited from the version haltingly told by CW, March 20, 1954.] The three brothers, Tek-'ic, my father I^Iadanek, and Hatl'is-nak'', were at the lake way up at the head of Situk River when they met a mother bear and her two cubs. Hatl'is-nak'^ had a spear (tsa^^l'), about 4 or 5 feet long, with a blade like a knife. He stripped and tied 716 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 his shirt around his waist. As the mother bear charged, he held the butt of his spear against the ground, the blade, slanting forward. The bear jumped at him, but was stabbed in the throat. "Xuts [brown bear] don't touch the man, because 'ixt' helped him. . . . That's why he's not scared of the bear. No use the gun—just the knife [spear]. . . . Three bear he kilhng with knife." [Perhaps Tek-'ic as a Teqwedi with the Bear as a sib crest also had the bear as a spirit, and hence had special powers over bears.] HOW TEK'-'IC SENT HIS SPIRIT TO FIND HIS BROTHER'S SON [The foUowing episode was described several times by the sister of the man who was overdue on a hunting trip. On this occasion she had been describing her uncle's seances in general, MJ, May 20, 1954. (See also pp. 753-754.)] . . . But any time they get paid for, they just send the spirit to find out. He waits, and then he gets the people together, aU his sidekicks, dut6 [stooge]. Get everything all ready, and then they have some kind of a—Gee, that's a wonderful thing! I'm scared of it, when I come to think about my uncle. You know how ugly he looks— long hair, Q-Agan ganguc [Sun's Ears] on his head, hair aU over himself. He looks just funny when he gets that spirit. Big fire in the middle of the house. I was laying one night [on the bench in the main room], and I was peek- ing out from under my blanket. I was laying in there. My mother put me to sleep. I was asleep and I hear this noise. I got up and I dropped[?] the blanket off. I look around. Big fire and the house is just lit up. AU around the ta:^—"lockers," we call it—that's big iong sticks aU around. And my uncle sits right at the middle of the house [in the rear]. Got a box about that big [3 feet square], all painted. Sits right down on it, no clothes on, just his hair. [He was] sitting on the box. And I look at it. I want to squeal, but I can't. Too scared. AU his relatives—^my father, his brothers, his stooge— he's the one announce it. He [Tek-'ic] talks funny, he [the assistant] is the only one understand it. Just like interpreter, you know. Gee, he looks ugly! He got so much for sending his spirit, you know, otherwise he woiUdn't do it because his spirit wouldn't go. . . . My uncles give hun. . . . My brother [Ldaxin] was out hunting, you know, and never show up for 2, 3 days. He was just going to Knight Island to our shack up there. And storm and calm, and never come back again. Takes a day to go up and a day to come down. So my mother and uncles got kind of worried. My uncles [mother's brothers?] give him blankets, I don't know how much. And he went through his per- formance and he find out if my brother's alive or if his canoe's upside down or something. He [Ldaxin] was trying to be a great hunter. He goes by himself and tries to make my mother and father believe he's just going little ways and come right back. And that time he never show up. Stormy days and clear, he's supposed to come back and he never show up. You know what he done? He went clear up to the glaciers [at the head of Disenchantment Bay] and got some seals—lots of it. His canoe is just loaded. He stopped on Knight Island and camped there. And my uncle is just ready to send a big war canoe up there, but first he wants to find out where my brother is, whether he's upset or drowned, before they do that. [In answer to a question, the informant denied that Tek-'ic had sent his wooden image. Probably the ques- tion was misunderstood, for see below.] No, that's another time [that he used his wooden image] .... That time he was sending his spirit and trying to locate my brother, he went through his performance and sent that spirit, and his spirit came back and told him the boy was aU right. He's [camped] under the canoe that's upside down on the ground. . . . . . . Yeah, my youngest uncle and my brother Natskik and other young feUows went up there. And there's his canoe just loaded like that, and some of them went up there. He got black bear and aU kinds of animals. . . . [He was camping under his canoe.] Yes, upset his canoe because he can't make it down—heavy wind. He come to Knight Island late. He wait tiU morning. And my uncle [Tek-'ic] says, "Tomorrow morning wUl be just fine. You'U see sunshine and you'U see 'ax sati yAdi [my master's child]." That little wooden thing told him. "My boss's son is coming home to- morrow. He's perfectly safe. He's under his canoe. There's nothing wrong with him. He's not in the water, he's not upset." [And that was the way it turned out.] HOW TEK'-'IC CURED BEAR BIT BILLY [The foUowing account was compUed from versions told by MJ in 1949, July 6, 1952, July 17, 1952, and August 8, 1952.] B. B. WiUiams, Bear Bit BUly [K'^ackqwan], was torn up by a bear. He had wounded the bear and run out of sheUs. He was torn up in that sealing camp near Egg Island, Tsa 'ani ['Seal's Town,' in Disenchant- ment Bay]. IN THREE PARTS SHAMANISM 717 The Indian doctor's spirit was in that woman that sewed him up. . . . He was so torn and chewed. His body was just cords. DeGraff took his picture when he was aU wounded [see pi. 81]. Lxagusa cured him. He heals the wounds—tcun xuk"^ ['hurt dry']—"quick cure"—so there is no more bleeding. He practiced on Skin Canoe George -with a big copper knife to prove he could do it, that he had the power to cure him. He stabbed him right in the breast, and cured him right away with his rattle. There was drumming in the right corner of the house and he feU towards the drum. It was in my father's house and I saw it. He said, "No woman touch it!" He didn't want any woman to see what he was doing. But that man's mother got scared and grabbed him. His mother jumped on him and grabbed his arm, so the doctor didn't cure him right away. He cured him in a minute. So he got a httle scar. It was aU healed up but there was a scar. The women were peeking out of the sleep- ing-rooms. My mother thought it was the most wonder- ful thing she had ever seen. Then he sent his spirit to the women who were sewing B. B. WUhams, so his hurt wouldn't poison. They took him into his own tribal house [Fort House, Kliantaak Island] right away when they brought him back, and caUed in a woman of the opposite tribe to sew him up. But they got Mrs. Joseph, too, because she sews weU. [She was the narrator's aunt, Tl'uknaca.] ... If he had gotten to Bear Bit BUly right away he would have cured him aU up [at once], but others had dragged him aU the way from seahng camp to Khantaak. . . . . . . My mother is pretty handy sewing. She and my Aunt Joseph [both Tl'uknaca], and Chief George's wife [Teq'^ca], and Tom Coxe [Kwackqwan] sewed up Bear Bit BiUy. Tom Coxe's father was Tek-'ic, so he was handy sewing. He was taught what to do when someone was hurt. BUly's ears were hanging right down. The cords on his arms were just faUing. You should have seen it! I felt just like throwing up. . . . [Not the least interesting aspects of this case were the legal consequences.] B. B. BUly was K'^ackqwan. The bear knows he's made a mistake, that he's guUty. He stayed there, by that man he tore up, lets himself be kiUed. The Kwackqwan kept the bear's head [actuaUy the whole pelt, to judge by the photograph] tUl the Teqwedi paid them—^because the bear was on the Teqwedi side. The Teqwedi gave them [Kwackqwan] plenty- blankets, money. I was a httle gu-1. I thought the whole town was going to be on the war path. I was scared. [Later] the skin and head were kept in GAtxan hit [Coward House] in the Old ViUage by Sitka Ned. [The same incident is also told by the missionary, Albua Johnson (1924, pp. 104-106), under the title: "A Bear Story."] To hunt bears is a dangerous sport. ... It was spring . . . and the natives were busily preparing for hunting and fishing. Seals and bears could now be kUled. ... A sad message came to us in those days. The other chief, George Na-kaa-nee [Yakutat Chief George], came to us and told a story, but it was difficult for us to understand him in the begin- ning, for he did not speak English and we did not understand Thngit which he spoke. In the end the secret was revealed. One of those who had gone bear hunting had been bitten and torn by a bear. It had happened in this way: Two men had wounded a big brown bear. The bear came runniag after them, seized one of the men, and tore and bit him and mutilated him quite severely. His comrade ran away a httle before he turned around and shot the bear dead. Sorrow and grief spread. The report spread fast among the people. In the greatest hurry he [the injured man] was taken in a large war canoe home to the viUage on Kantaak Island and placed in one of the largest Indian houses. In Yakutat there was no doctor, but the people beheved in the missionaries. We were therefore sent for, and with medicines in a hand bag, we started out for the viUage to help them sew up the wounds and stop the bleeding. We were quite startled when we saw the women sewing up the wounds with regular needles and black thread. We helped as much as we could and as much as we were permitted. We washed the wounds with water iu which we mixed carbolic acid. Then we prayed to God and gave the patient into God's hands. The people sat around the hurt man, looking very serious and quiet. They showed great gratitude to us missionaries for what we were able to do. We had only a little hope that this man would survive. But a miracle happened. After a long tune in bed he became entirely sound again, and dared several other trials in bear hunts. This man gave himself to God, was baptized, and joined the congregation. But what happened to his adventurous comrade? It was an embarrassing time for him. He showed cowardice and did not remain faithful to his comrade when he ran. For this their law condemned him to lose everything he owned. They took away his good gun and, worst of aU, he also lost his wife. They took even that from him. They intended that he start life again from the beginning. 718 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 DEATH AND BURIAL OP TEK'- IC [A short mention of how Tek-'ic committed suicide by having his hair cut has already been quoted on p. 685. This somewhat longer account was told by the same informant, MJ, July 1, 1952.] My aunty's husband died in Sitka. He was the owner of Tu^ hit or Xuts djini hit [Shark House or Bear Paw House]. He died of poison whiskey. His name was Daqusetc [Chief Minaman]. His daughter [Xosal] and her husband [Qata 'ux] died the same day. [All of poisoned whiskey. This was in 1890.] Tek-'ic's spirit told him that bad news was commg. "Daqusetc was going to take care of my dead body. Now, he's dead." His spirit said that bad news was coming. Sure enough, the schooner came in and reported it. So he cut his hair. The next day he die. He called in aU the people to see him cut his hair. They took my uncle out on the clean sand to cut his hair. He died right there, and they took him in. He said he give up the Indian doctor business because there was no one to take his place. He got all his tribe together in Xuts hit [Bear House, his own house]. . . . He wanted his picture taken before he cut his hair [see pi. 65]. AU the tribe sang spuit songs—tlAgoko ciyi(?) [tiAgu-?a ciyi(?)—'songs for long ago'(?)]. His brothers and my father took care of him when he died. They took his body to Gucine [Lost River]. They hired the opposite side to put up the grave house. It was fancy, aU painted. . . . An Indian doctor is not supposed to be buried. They get dried up, just like a bone. . . . Gucin§—they lived there once, and Gucine gets its name when they aU moved away. It's the same as Diyaguna'Et. I slipped on a xota [XU1:A, adz] there, when my father is finishing his brother's grave. It's below Diyaguna'Et [on Lost River]. They just buUd a house over his body that time. They never bury an 'ixt'. They just put a house over the box. So many years after [referring to the abandonment of Diyaguna'Et and to the murder of QadJAqdaqina, their uncle, also a shaman, whose body was first put in the grave house (see p. 320)], my father got that painting of a xuts [brown bear] in front of that grave house of his brother. Him and Ca-kuwakan and the other brothers got tools aU around. They were having a lunch for the QuuEtkAnayi who were doing the work. You got to feed them. . . . I remember when they were buUding that grave house for my uncle. I stepped on a sharp xota. My foot is just bleeding, and my mother and my aunt and them, they cooking for the workers. And Charley and I chasing one another, and I happened to run against my father's tools. Charley chase me against it. That s why my uncle carry me around on his shoulders. That s why I see it. A long ways—^not too close. . . • . . . And it's wonderfiU. After my father died, all Teqwedi died off. And there's nobody to take care of that 'ixt body. . . . When my father died, nobody to look after it. His brother, Ca-kuwakan, [and] Kardee, and the bunch get together. Nobody to take care of that 'ixt business, because they got the Mission here at that time. So they bury him, and that Httle wooden thing is with him [i.e., the little wooden image of the Sun's ChUd into which he used to put his power]. They claim that's why Teqwedi died off so quick, because they bury his spirit with him—kUling aU the Teqwedi's souls. . . . [Apparently the informant was present when the old grave house was opened and the shaman's body was buried in the ground.] When they open it up, in the fancy Hudson Bay trunks—big ones—they put his body in there. Fancy blankets and valuable stuff with him. . . . . . . His meat is not even rotten. A chUd can't even get near it lest they got some kind of sickness, fainting spells. But I was on my uncle's shoulder and I saw what's going on. [Does this refer to a repair of the grave house, see above, or has she confused the original ensepulture with the final inhumation?] They pick him up with a stick. His meat is not even rotten— just dried up, yellow, like those cookies [on the table]. Pick his body up and put it in those fancy trunks, those Hudson Bay trunks. And his spirit buried with him. . . . That time my uncle was buried and put in the coffin, his arms and legs come off like that. Skin just dried up—like this here wood [pointing to the arms of a chair]. Isn't that funny, though? The other person, a common human being, the body gets decayed and rots away from the bones. . . . [On another occasion the informant referred to what must have been a repair to the grave house, MJ, July 7, 1952.] I saw Tek-'ic's body, my father's brother. Just his body, not his face. His legs was aU dried up, no meat on it. They picked it up on a pitchfork, put him in a blanket. Father fixed up his grave. We had a picnic on the beach near his grave, and I stepped on a xota [adz], one of the carpenter tools. [According to HKB, May 2, 1954, Kardeetoo, who was the last of Tek-'ic's assistants and who should have inherited his powers, did participate in an attempt to restore or repair the grave house. Sitka Ned was also present. Perhaps it was on this same occasion that the shaman's body was interred. The final burial was explamed by HB, July 20, 1952.] Near Diyaguna'Et there was a doctor's body, placed high up. The hair was growing long. Kardeetoo buried IN THREE PARTS SHAMANISM 719 it. He has to be very strict with himself before he comes near it—^for 8 months beforehand [sic]. Stay away from women, hardly eat much, and then only certain foods. . , . But he didn't have to do anything afterwards. He had Teqwedi helpers, because he's the head of Teqwedi. He wanted to bury the body because he wants to be respectable. That's why he do it. [The informant explained that they were becoming Chris- tians, and didn't want that doctor to be above ground, that is, where he might influence another to become a shaman.] His spirit, he, Kardee, can feel it. It's already in it. . . . He refused to 'ixt [to become a shaman]. He just want to bury it, because it's getting to be modern days—about 1900, I guess. . . . That's the reason he came to Church and was chairman at the same time—so the spirit can be scared of him. He died a Christian; he died when he was stUl Church chairman. REFUSING THE CALL A Young Man Refuses to Become a Shaman An account has already been given (see pp. 644-646) of the replacement of the shamans' grave houses, imdertaken by Dry Bay Chief George at the time of the Tl'uknaxAdi potlatch at Dry Bay, 1909. At that time, the shamans' spirit came to one woman, and another was slightly affected. On the same occasion, a young man also received the caU, but rejected it. He was to pay for this with his hfe. The foUowing account has been compUed from statements made by the latter's widow in 1952 and 1954. A YOUNG MAN REFUSES THE CALL My father's uncles were three 'ixt in Dry Bay. When I was a httle girl they died. [These were the Tluk^axAdi shamans: Sfitln, QunauAstE, and Qutcda.] . . . When I first got married, 15 years old, my hus- band is working on that grave house. . . . They made httle dead houses, qada kedi, over them. . . . D, my first husband, made two of the houses, fixed them up. They died long ago. [July 22, 1952.] [The informant commented on how long the hair of the dead shamans' had grown, and how their bones were stUl held together by theu* dried skin. Evidently new grave houses were being provided, but the role of D is not clear, since he was also Tluk'^axAdi, like the dead shamans, and such labor is usuaUy performed by members of the opposite moiety.] . . . When they worked on them, they don't eat. [This taboo applied to aU participatmg m or associated in any way with the work, includmg theu- spouses.] We got 8 days we don't eat, too. Fu-st one, "two days," they say, they're gomg to eat—go get water on the back side, way back. [That is, after 2 days they would break their fast and drink uncontaminated water from far away. But the young wives found thirsting the hardest.] We take a bucket over there—young girls, you know. They're going to eat, they said. . . . The young girls told me, "Let's drink that water!" I told them, "No, we can't drink it, this water. When everybody's drinking, that's the time we're go- ing to drink." We go on the other side [i.e., returned]. People said, "We're not gouig to eat tiU tomorrow." That water, they threw it away from us. Those girls worry about that water. I don't care. I'm strong enough, I guess, not to eat. . . . That time everybody wants to get that Indian doctor's spirit, but my husband just faU down. He's unconscious. He got that spirit. AU that thing is just coming from his mouth—^just white, like a sponge. He's sore he got it. A young boy—about one year older than me—16. I was 15. [March 21, 1954] . . . I'm not there when my uncle's fixing it, you know. I stay some place. I got my period. That's why I don't go there, that time. They caU it, that yek. After a whUe my husband, my fu-st husband, got that Indian doctor spirit. He faU on the floor, just like he had fits. . . . Big things come out of his mouth [foamh About half an hour he goes like that. I'm not there. I got my period. That's why I go away from there. . . . He just got up when he feel good. He got up. [When asked why he had not then become a shaman, the informant explained:] He don't go to the woods, that's why. If he go to the woods, he would be Indian doctor. [Why didn't he go? she was asked]. I don't know. He's too young. He's about 16 years old, I guess. He's older than me. I was 15 years old that time. 720 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 [Can't a young man become 'ixt'?] Sure, if they're strong, you know. If they feel strong, they go to the woods. Eight days, never eat. If they feel strong, they can go. . . . He don't want it. That's why he died [about a year later, of TB]. Something happens to them if they don't [May 24, 1954]. . . . He came to me [had intercourse]. His mother said, "Don't come close to your wife." It sounds funny when they caU 'ixt's spirits. D caUed it. He dropped unconscious when he heard it. He got the spirit. White stuff, like a sponge, came out of his nose and mouth. He don't like it, so he came to me. That spoU it. He's going to be Indian doctor if he take care of that spirit ... or if he cut kucda [land otter] or eagle tongue, or the tongue of anything that drops dead when he goes aroimd in the woods. . . . The spirit bothers him all right. He got sick when he refused it. I don't believe it [that he died in conse- quence], because those 'ixt were kind people. [July 22, 1952.] A Woman Refuses the Call A woman might receive a shaman's spirit on a similar occasion. One woman told me that she had been "getting a spirit," but would not say whose. She did not want it, and was very sick. She slept with her husband. "That's the only way to get rid of it." The last time it came to her was some 8 years ago, and she was afterwards hospitahzed for TB, but I am not sure whether she connected the two events. On another occasion she said that she had nearly gotten the spirit of three doctors of her father's people, and also that of a great shaman in her own sib. The anomaly of a doctor's spirit going to someone in the opposite moiety was explained by her behef that if there were no one of the correct sib to receive it, the spirit would go to a child of the dead shaman, or to a closely related chUd of his sib. When asked how it felt to get the spirit, she explained that "if anything's going to happen, I used to feel it." She stUl has such premonitions. Thus, before a fatal automobile accident in Yakutat, March 1954, she had known that some misfortune was coming, and had warned her grandchUdren, she said: "Be careful. Something's going to happen. I feel it." The spirit began to come to her in 1930. She then began to foUow the dietary rules imposed on a shaman and his famUy by ceasing to eat beach food. For 2 years she was sick. She did not want the spirit. When asked how she got rid of it, she laughed (embarrassed?): "I don't know. Every time I eat, I put it in the fire. I talks to my father's yek. That xat-qwani [Fish People] and the other ones, I talks to them. That's the time I feel better. ... I ask them to help me, to give me good luck or if I get weU, That's the way I talks to them." She also saw her dead father and mother in a dream. Her father came in and addressed her by name. "CawAt- xu^," he said, "don't think about yourseU you're going to die. My father's people [his own sib?, or his father's sib, i.e., her own?] sent me to you. You're not going to die. You're going to get lucky. You're going to have good luck!" Then she became lucky and received money. That was the way she had dreamed about her father. "He said, 'Your father's people are going to send good luck to you.' " "That's the time I pretty near got it [shaman's power]." WHITE MEN'S VIEWS OF YAKUTAT SHAMANISM A Yakutat Shaman, 1886 Both Professor Libbey and Seton-Karr have de- scribed the efforts made by a shaman at Yakutat in 1886 to cure a man who was dying of poison. The poison, it wUl be remembered, was arsenic which the Indians mistook for baking powder, since it was found in a can which the New York Times Expedition had thrown away (see pp. 193-194). The shamanistic seances were held in the house of the chief on Khantaak Island, that is, in Shark House of the Teqwedi chief "Yen-aht-setl" (Daqusetc, or Muaaman). Presumably the principal patient, known as "the Bear Hunter," was also Teqwedi, and we may surmise that the shaman, who would have been of another sib, was probably K'^ackqwan. Since he neglected the man's stricken wife, it is reasonable to assume that she belonged to the doctor's own sib. IN THREE PARTS SHAMANISM 721 and it would have been impossible for him to have saved her. Although the chief appeared caUous in his "superstitious neglect" of the dying man, he told Libbey that "he was sorry to lose his friend." It wUl be remembered that there was some reason to believe that the natives suspected witchcraft in this case. ACCOUNT BY PROFESSOR WILLIAM S. LIBBEY According to Professor Libbey {New York Times, November 16, 1886, p. 2), one chUd had already died. A Sitka native and two chUdren had consented to f oUow the White men's prescription of hot coffee and an eagle feather down the throat to induce vomiting. They were already better, and the other two victims. Bear Hunter and his wife, were about to attempt the same treatment, when the medicine man and his attendants entered the house. "Before the medicine man consented to help he received a fee from the hunter consisting of a musket and 20 yards of cotton cloth, representing a money value of $20. The medicine man and his attendants caUed twice a day for two days upon their patients. Their exercises were of pecuhar interest to us. The mediciae man, who reduced himself to a condition of almost complete nudity, seated himself close to the sick man, who was lying on the floor. He untied his hair, which is generaUy worn long by medicine men and is considered one of the secrets of their power, and let it faU down his back. He then took some of his charms, consistiug of sea [land ?] otters carved from walrus tusks and teeth of various ani- mals, and put them in the hands of the sufferer. Then one of the attendants picked eagles' or swans' down from a skin, which the box contained, and, holding it aloft in their fingers, they blew it into the sick man's face and over his hair, giving him a very pecuhar appearance. This is supposed to have an influence in driving away the 'yakes', or evU spirits, which, whUe they are not charged with producing sickness, are credited with hovering around the sick and trying to make them worse. The medicine man is supposed to have power which is superior to that of a number of the 'yakes' and able to keep them away from the sufferer as long as the uicantations are in progress. "The next proceeding was for an able-bodied man to take a drum formed of a hide drawn over one side of a hoop and pound it vigorously. Arranged on either side of the flreplace in the center of the tent [house] were eight or ten Indians who assisted gratuitously. Their part of the performance consisted in making aU the noise they could by beating paddles raised shghtly from the floor with sticks, and ac- companying the clatter produced with a monotonous and dismal chant. This they would keep up for 20 minutes at a time. When they stopped the medicine man would resume his incantations with redoubled energy, making motions with his arms as if 'shooing' away the evU spirits and spitting in their supposed direction. WhUe the men were beating the paddles he indulged ui the most extraordinary gymnastic exercises. Seated upon his haunches he jumped up and down with his hands extended over the sick man, and shouted out the chant in which the others joined. Every now and then aU would stop, and he would go through a series of special incantations. "Each of these performances lasted about two hours, and when they were over I tried to do the best I could with what was left of the man. This lasted for two days, and on the morning of the third day the man died, which caused no diminution of faith ia the medicine man's abihty, as he had when first caUed in told the patient that he must die. I beheve the man would not have died if he had fol- lowed our directions and the others had taken good care of him. Their systematic neglect of him, caused largely by a superstitious dread of touching a dying man or any of his effects, together with his weakened system, was what eventuaUy caused his death. "As an example of this neglect I would state that when he was suffering from cramps in the muscles of his limbs after one of the performances, we tried to get some hot water to apply to his feet but the chief would not aUow us to use the ordinary tea kettles, then sittuig by the fire for this purpose, for fear of their being contaminated by the touch of the supposed dying man. A further aggravation was pro- vided in their refusal to supply him with hght food at our request. When we ordered them to give him some tender meat they fed him with hard smoked salmon. After a great deal of persuasion we exacted a promise from some of them that they would go and get him some fresh salmon. It did not arrive untU after the poor feUow was dead. His own son, who was sitting by the fire with his wife whUe they en- joyed a meal of boUed rice, refused to let the old man have any of it, fearing the contamination. Under the circumstances it is hardly to be wondered at that the man died, and that his wife, who met with simUar treatment, shared his fate." Fresh kUled meat or fish may have been refused the sick man because these were beheved to be iojurious to him, or because it was feared that if he ate them this would anger the souls of the animals, not for the reasons given by Professor Libbey. ACCOUNT BY HEYWOOD W. SETON-KARR Seton-Karr (1887) also describes the same events. 722 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 "On the evening of the 6th a great beating of drums and sticks, which continued nearly all night, was heard in the vUlage. The noise seemed to issue from the last house. It was broken at times by the howling of wolf-like dogs which swarm, and yeU in chorus like coyotes, generaUy clustering together for the purpose on some promontory or lonely and distant spot. "We salhed out in a body to see what was doing. The interior of the house was lit up by the firelight. The shawaan was seated, naked to the waist, perform- ing incantations and machinations over a sick chUd, though the child itself was nowhere visible. His long hair, always left uncut, was streaming behind him. He was shaking his charms, throwing his body into contortions, uttering shrUl cries, hissing and extend- ing his arms, groaning and breathing through his clenched teeth, jerking himseK meantime in conviU- sive starts in cadence to the music. Seated round the fire, a dozen Yakutat Indians were beating drums and pieces of wood together, keeping time to the jerks of the shawaan's head and body. This old medicine-man is quite blind, having been deprived of his sight in a fight with another medicine-man. [1887, pp. 128-129.] [I infer that the shaman was ministering to one who was sick from the arsenic. The professor tried to assist the patients, but was prevented by the other natives who were afraid of becoming contam- inated. Nevertheless, those who had taken an emetic were recovering.] "At intervals a distant drumming and yeUing from the interior of the houses told us that the shawaan was busy at his work. [Ibid., p. 131.] [By the morning of August 8, one chUd had died and had been cremated.] "The usual sounds of drumming were issuing from the chief's house, where the sick people are lying. Entering the house, we found the blind shawaan again at his tricks. We was squatting by the side of our Indian, who was evidently better, for he was vomiting, having at length taken the emetic. The shawaan was neglecting the wife, and devoting his magic arts exclusively to the husband. "Sitting down, I commenced to sketch the sightless savage, who, of course, was unaware that I was drawing him. The chief kept teUing me not to be afraid, for he was blind. Perhaps he thought as I had sketched his daughter that it would prevent any UI effects if I did the same to the shawaan. Presently he stripped himself, and opening his box of charms took out a wooden figure of a crane with a frog clinging to its back [a rattle], and a bunch of sea- otter's teeth and carved walrus tusks. The latter he placed on the naked stomach of the dying man. "Meantime the drums and sticks kept up the monotonous noise, and the heat and stench were increased by the fire. The shawaan grew more excited. His contortions and jerks grew more and more active. His favourite attitude seemed to be with the right arm drawn up, and hand half-clenched under the ear, the left arm extended, squatting in Eastern fashion, the body crouched and greasy with oil and the heat. "At a sign his hair was uncoUed and unknotted by the assistant-magician. Its length was at least five feet, but might possibly have been added to artifi- ciaUy. At times in his leaps and jerks the ends came perUously near the fire. He seemed aware of this, for he occasionaUy drew them in. Every few minutes, too, white eagles' down was held between finger and thumb by the assistant, and blown over his head and shoulders, to which it adhered, giving hair and skin a hoary and ancient look, or as though he was covered with freshly faUen snow-flakes. The dying man paid but little regard to him, and before many hours had elapsed both he and his wife had passed away. "Disgusted by the sight, and sickened by the stench, I sought the air. . . ." [Ibid., pp. 132-133.] A IVlissionary's Account of Yakutat Shamanism Albin Johnson (1924, pp. 43-45) has left a rather brief account of shamanism as it was practiced at Yakutat during his residence at the mission, 1889- 1906. I have quoted his description of the shaman's appearance (p. 684). His account is entitled "An EvU Side." Of the shamans {trollgubbama, or schaman) he also writes: "The status they occupied among the people was egotistic, supercihous, self-important, hated, keep- ing the people in a certain fear and in the deepest darkness. One can say that they were the special representatives of Old Nick. If someone got sick, the shaman was sent for to investigate the cause of the Ulness. The sick person was placed on the floor on a skin or a blanket. The shaman appeared now wearing a blanket, with a long pole in his hand. He now started a dreadful scene with some sort of noisy hocus-pocus, running around the patient, shouting almost hke the whistle of a steamship. Now and then some of the people were accused as being the cause of the sickness. One of them was therefore to be punished and tortured or kUled. Anybody could be hit by such a judgment from the evU, mean shaman. "After such a 'cure' by the sorcerer, the condition IN THREE PARTS SHAMANISM 723 of the sick person was supposed to improve, and if anyone got weU—for it happens that sick people get better—the people would sink deeper iuto super- stitution and darkness. And then the relatives of the sick person had to pay many blankets to the sorcerer. "Epidemics often ravaged the viUages in Alaska. And as death took many people, the general situation was characterized by gloom and sorrow. EspeciaUy was this the case before the hght of Christ had been able to enlighten the people. Before this, the people had to trust the sorcerers in their misery. They went around among the people and cut pieces off the clothes of the sick, which were tied on a long line, and with a rock as anchor, the shaman sunk it in the sea, and in this way the people thought that the sicknesses were kept at bay. "In connection with this I wUl narrate a true 'troU' story. When I and brother H [Hendrickson] once were out and set a special kind of fishing fine in the bay, in order to catch halibut, a 'troU' line [i.e., a line with bits of patients' clothing attached] became entangled in our fishiog line and we had to cut it away in order to free our line from sorcery, so we would have luck and, of course fish. We got a big laugh out of it, mingled with a prayer to God for hght and salvation for these people. [Ibid., pp 43- 45.] [Perhaps it was this method of cure that my in- formant (CW) was attempting to explain (see p. 708), or these may have been bits of clothing put into the water by a repentant witch (see pp. 730-731). Albin Johnson and his wife succeeded in converting one shaman. His name is not given. Could it have been Tek-'ic? (see p. 685).] "My dear spouse often used to visit the Thngit people in the viUage. In a miserable hut she one day found an old sorcerer, sitting and warming himself beside a little fire. She started a conversation with the man, and spoke to him about the love of Jesus and asked him to come to our church, and further asked him to cut the long evil hair and to wash, and come to the mission where he would be given clean, proper clothes. Some days later the feUow reaUy came, washed and with newly cut hair. This was almost more than Mrs. Johnson had dared to hope. But now he received a whole suit of clean, nice clothes. Later he also came to the church and heard God's word being preached." [Ibid., p. 49]. The only shaman mentioned by name was Dettion, who seems to have been an honored guest at the big funeral feast, also attended by the Teqwedi chief "Janaa-shoo' (Daqusetc, or Minaman), on Khantaak Island. Johnson did not remember the name of the dead man for whom the feast was being held. He had been an important personage, perhaps a K'^ackqwan chief. The shaman Dettion, as a guest, must have been Teqwedi or Qalyix-Kagwantan. THE SHAMANISTIC LEGACY The spirits of the shaman we have seen compared to angels and to the Holy Ghost (p. 682), and the shaman is said to be able to speak in foreign languages, depend- ing on the nature of his spirit, "just like in the Church of God," an evangelistic sect established at Yakutat in 1951 or 1952, the inspired members of which "speak with tongues." The tradition of associating supernatural power with spirit possession has affected the ways in which Chris- tianity was accepted by the Tlingit or has made certain manifestations or forms of religious practice particularly congenial to them. For example, Swanton (1909, Tale 30, p. 428), teUs us: "A man returning to Sitka from the south told his people that Deki'anqaVo (God) [pp. 815-816] had come down from Heaven to help them, and the women dressed up and began dancing." They danced untU they fainted and were revived with salt water. This dancing was kept up for a whole year, and it was believed to prevent the women from getting smaUpox. The Yakutat people undoubtedly knew about this, and their response to the teachings of the missionaries was perhaps influenced by reports from Sitka. The Reverend Albin Johnson compares what happened during his second winter at Yakutat (1890) to what he had heard in his youth about the "Shouters" in SmS,land, Sweden, who feU into a trance and preached. This was, he said (1924, p. 36), the work of God through weak but God-loving souls. 265-517—72—TOL VII, pt. 2- -13 724 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 "The Shouters in Alaska" (1890) The Reverend Albin Johnson (1924, pp. 36-42) re- ports that during his second winter at Yakutat, he and Reverend K. J. Hendrickson were very busy with preaching, house visits, prayer meetings, talks, and school. "The people crowded to the church and heard the testimonial of Jesus, Savior of sinners" (ibid., p. 37). One cold Sunday afternoon, after a meeting in the church, the missionaries were visited by a native youth, "Jeme Ka-kaa-shra." This was evidently Qakaxa, a Tl'uknaxAdi man known as Ned James or Mission Jim. He was one of the first to be converted and sometimes acted as interpreter in the early days of the mission, "and told us how the people received the preaching of God's word. Now Ka-kaa-shra had a special message, we understood, and he tried to make it plain to us that on httle Kantack Island, where there was stUl an Indian viUage with large, old houses and many inhabitants, a strange event had occurred, which had spread fear and excitement through the whole tribe ..." (ibid., p. 37). A boy they knew as Albert, who had visited the mission school and church, and who "was by nature an introvert," had suddenly faUen asleep and while in a kind of trance was preaching to the people. James had come to fetch the missionaries to see and hear him. ("Albert" I am not able to identUy.) "When we arrived at the vUlage we went into a large house. Here were a great number of Indians sitting, silent and stUl. In the main room of the house a beautiful blanket was spread out, on which a youth lay as if asleep, speaking in a moderate voice [en Idng stund] to a man who sat at his side. Afterwards this man interpreted it for everyone in a loud and clear voice and commented on what the sleeping boy had said. His speech made a strong impression on the assembled crowd. . . . "Albert spoke for a long whUe after we went into the house, but woke after an hour's talking, and sat sUent and stUl, evidently somewhat exhausted and tired. He did not know what he had said, but he told us that he had seen some beautUul divine visions of angels and bhss. . . . He urged the people to put themselves in Jesus' care, go to Him, and let themselves be saved. As the Indians were hving now, they were lost in their sins, big, bloody sins. Now the missionaries had come with a message from Jesus Christ who was mighty enough to save them and show them the road to Heaven. Jesus is coming soon. He can come any time, and if we are not saved we cannot foUow Him into the eternal rest. Convert ye to the Lord!" [Ibid., pp. 38-39.] [This was Albert's message. And usuaUy] "after such a meeting, another meeting foUowed with prayers and shouts to the Lord for salvation, a meeting in which they took the initiative and led." [Ibid., p. 39.] [There were two young girls who visited the school and who often came to church with their parents. Now they also feU uato a trance in the viUage near the mission, which made an even greater impression on the people.] "One evening shortly after Albert's sleep, these girls feU into a trance and preached a powerful, urgent sermon to the people. Among what they said was: 'Ask the missionaries to let us come to the mission for a whUe, as our people live in dark, dark sins. It is so sinful in the vUlage.' We promised them that they could come. They came and got a room. The first evening they went to bed quietly and sUent. Somewhat later in the night we heard a thunderous sound. What was the matter? Yes, the girls had faUen into a trance and were preaching. A couple of native boys who were at the mission heard what the girls said: 'Run to the vUlage and teU the Indians that they must come to the mission at once, as there was something they wanted to teU them.' Not long afterwards the mission was fuU of wondering and curious people. . . . "[In their trance, the girls] shouted the name of this one and that, and ordered them to come up to the sleepers and confess their sins. Some came wiU- iugly and confessed. Then they [the girls] were cahn. When others, whose names they also mentioned and shouted to come forth to the sleepers, hesitated and refused to admit their sins, they became completely wUd, so that strong men could hardly hold them. They twisted and beat violently with their arms, frightening the people. They ordered them to confess their sins, which the people subsequently did. One after the other, they openly admitted to grave, wicked, and black sins, and then they prayed to Jesus, that He should forgive them their sins. And as soon as those who were named came up to the two girls, the latter became cahn. "Later many others, both men and women, feU into this trance, and it continued a whole winter. Sometimes it happened in the homes of the Tlingit people. One evening I visited the viUage. A young man had faUen into a trance and the excitement among the people was great. Afterwards, a prayer meeting was held and the whole crowd in the house prayed in a state of great emotion and bliss, in a way figuratively besieging the throne of mercy. I was on the verge of losiug my self-control, and prayed to God that we missionaries be able to lead the people properly. IN THREE PARTS SHAMANISM 725 During this time our services in the church were very popular and many came. There was rejoicing, con- fession of sins and admissions of faith. Many times whUe we were preaching, people feU on the floor and went into trance. We then had to stop preaching and hsten to them and pray with them. These were re- vival meetings of the most powerful kind, and among rude heathens the power of the Spirit and the Mercy revealed itself. "There was also a dark aspect of the movement. There were some of the 'sleeping preachers' who spoke against us, partly in cases of minor importance, and then we opposed them, showing them what God's word says. Then they behaved as we told them to and accordiug to what we told them was God's word." [Ibid., pp. 39-42.] Native Accounts of the "Shouters" One of my informants (MJ), who was a little girl at the mission, told about these events. A Teqwedi woman named Jenny (1874-1918), and Lucy or Louise, a Tl'uknaxAdi woman who was my informant's mother's younger sister (or cousin), were those who fainted in church duriug a prayer meeting. Several others fainted also. "White stuff came out of their mouths [4 to 6 inches long]—pure white. Everybody thought they were dead, and dressed them [for burial]. Johnson just laid them out on boards, didn't touch that white sponge on their mouths. He and Hendrickson and Miss Peterson and Miss Carlsen just knelt and prayed. "About midnight, that sponge began to move and they came ahve. Not one of them knew a word of English—couldn't even say "Yes" or "No"—the mis- sion was just established—but when they came to, they began to sing church songs with English words." In answer to questions, MJ denied that they could have had any opportunity to learn them. "And they spoke [apparently in Tlingit]. Their voices were way down in their chests so you had to put your ear close to their mouths to hear what they were saying. They said that 'God should run Yakutat.' [They actu- aUy said a good deal more which was not remembered.] It was a wonderfiU thing. And Johnson thought it was a wonderful thing. . . . "Jenny was the first to faint. They didn't bark or sweat [like some inspired in the Church of God]—^just passed out cold." Another informant said that her mother had told her about this fainting, but it was "just imitation." The girls were copying a story they had heard. The latter was to the effect that: "Before the church came, before missionaries, before they even heard of God, some one [sex unknown] fainted and died. When he sobered up, he said he had met God. He said he had talked to a Certain Person, who told him to get baptized. Then he would be saved. 'There is another world beside this one, and if you are baptized and good, you can go there after you die and your soul won't be lost,' He told him. . . . "Yes, later they beheve he had talked with God. That was the only way God could get in touch with people then. There were no missionaries. . . ." But Jenny and the other girl (possibly Annie, a Kwackqwan woman, mother of M—) were just pretending. "They were imitating that person when they fainted on church. Jenny was going with Jimmy Jackson, that funny man. [This was the Kwackqwan man known as "Gums," p. 194.] Their boy friends tickled them, just to prove it, and they squirmed. "Jenny and M—'s mother [the other girl] ran into someone who's sohd feeling [p. 735]. He was laying down. They ran in and said, 'Confess your sin!' He chased them out of the house—^"Go away, you witchcraft!' " Witches and Land Otter Men WITCHCRAFT Witches The human being, man or woman, most abhorred and despised by the Tlingit, was the witch, 'master of sickness' (nuk"^ sati). In speaking English, many Tlingit use the term "witchcraft" to designate the person, rather than his activities or practice. It was perhaps the most important and spectacular task of the shaman to unmask the witch and his accomphces, so that he could be rendered impotent or kiUed and his victims cured. Many items coUected by Emmons from shamans' graves were specificaUy designated as worn or employed in dealing with cases of witchcraft. The witch was feared and loathed because there was no antisocial, evil or unnatural act of which he was not believed capable: dishonesty, shamelessness, incest, mysterious powers of locomotion or of bodUy transforma- tion, and, above aU, corroding spite and jealousy that made him cause the iUness or death of those he envied. Because his victims were traditionaUy his own close relatives, true siblings or the immediate members of his own hneage and sometimes their spouses and chU- dren, the witch was the embodiment of treachery. Moreover, his evU influence was contagious, for he recruited as his assistants, "new witchcraft," usually against their wUl or knowledge, other persons, such as a junior relative or a young wife. If not hberated in time, even a reluctant assistant was doomed to become a witch also. The witch brought disgrace upon himself, upon all the members of his lineage, and upon his descendants. It would appear that aU known witches were origi- naUy ordinary persons who had been recruited by witches. There is no evidence that anyone was believed to have been born a witch, nor that anyone deliberately set out to become one, although many were believed to have submitted wUlingly to the evU influence of another. Once thoroughly infected, the new witch seems to have been controUed by his own evil power, helpless to desist from injuring others, even U he should desire to refrain. It is only through his confession after torture that he himself can be released and his victims rescued. His trial and sufferings are as necessary for his "cure" as for theirs. Presumably those witches who died under tortiu*e or were kUled were ones who had not been "cured" through forced confession. Because the witch is victim as weU as agent, and because the witch, the bewitched accomplice, and the bewitched victim are aU traditionaUy members of the same lineage, there is material here for tragedy, although the Tlingit with 728 whom I discussed this did not seem to recognize it. Horror of the witch, not pity, was felt. Moreover, no relative dared to take the part of the witch at his "trial," for if the witch had secretly put a curse upon the one who later tried to defend him, he would be powerless to remove it. The witch thus could have no friends whUe he was protesting his innocence. Yet, when he had expiated his guUt, released his victims, and had himseK been purged of evU, he might eventuaUy be restored to society. If he died or was executed, his sib would have to potlatch for him and so remove the stigma. No guUt attached, however, to anyone who could prove that he or she had helped the witch under duress. The witch might be either a man or a woman, yet almost aU those mentioned as known or suspected at Yakutat were men. Swanton (1908, pp. 469-471) also recorded stories about several male witches but only one woman among the Tlingit of southeastern Alaska. Krause (1956, p. 203), however, reports as of 1882: "Witch hunts were conducted by the Tlingit untU very recent times in spite of the efforts of the American authorities and the missionaries to discourage them. In the instances brought to our attention the accused were always women." The majority of those accused of witchcraft by the WrangeU Tlingit in 1878 seem to have been women or chUdren, especiaUy girls, or slaves (Young, 1927, pp. 113-116, 119-120, 125). It would appear that important persons, especiaUy men of high rank, were seldom pubhcly accused of witch- craft, for Krause (1956, p. 201) also reports: "Formerly the relatives of one accused of witchcraft were supposed to kUl him in order not to have such a hated individual in their group of kin. But if someone of high class was suspected of witchcraft, his relatives woiUd go to him secretly at night and beg him to heal the sick person because they were afraid to seize him and tie him down." Presumably most of the unfortunates whose cases came to the attention of the early Ameri- can authorities and missionaries were low class people, often women without protectors. Information from Yakutat would confirm that cases of witchcraft involv- ing important persons, especiaUy men of aristocratic position, might be discreetly handled in private. According to Olson (1961, pp. 216-217), who gained his information from the ChUkat, the stigma of witch- craft "can never be washed away." Even the victim, no matter how unwUling, was disgraced likewise, and although the original witch might have confessed, the descendants of both would be shamed. In a case of this kind, in which the victim was a girl, Olson writes: IN THREE PARTS WITCHES AND LAND OTTER MEN 729 If the sorcerer had not confessed, the sorcery would have remained in the girl and she would have passed it on to her daughters. If the bewitched girl had not been an only daughter and therefore the only one who could psiss on the famUy's valued names and prerogatives, she would have been kUled to wipe out the disgrace. In this instance the sorcerer was also released after his confession because he belonged to a prominent lineage. Formerly, even the chUdren of witches were hkely to be kUled, because of "the concept that sorcery is passed on within the famUy, inherited in the same way as hereditary traits" (ibid., p. 217). Although informants were naturaUy reluctant to talk about witchcraft, I learned of a number of cases ranging in date from the 1880s to suspicions of the present. In none of these instances, however, even in the past century, did I hear of a witch being kUled, although I was told that formerly a witch might in- deed have been executed. Not aU those suspected were accused by a shaman in a pubhc "trial," and forced through torture to confess. In some cases, the shaman revealed the identity of the witch in private, so that his sib-mates could warn him to desist from his evU ways. In other cases, the victim himself, or his relative, beheved he knew who was guUty, since such knowledge might be revealed in a dream. He might then confront the witch, although such an overt accusation was likely to lead to bloody reprisal. Now that there are no more shamans and the torturing of suspected witches is pro- hibited, there is no way of "proving" the identity of the evUdoer. Furthermore, most people profess not to "beheve" in witchcraft. Yet old fears may stiU revive, especiaUy when serious illness strikes or a stubborn aUment faUs to yield to home remedies and orthodox medical treatment. Then gossip may diagnose the case as witchcraft, and friends of the sufferer whisper the accused's name. Rumor is especiaUy likely to attach to any queer or impopular person. NaturaUy, whUe the patient and his famUy may beheve that their mis- fortune is due to witchcraft, the general pubhc may accept the medical diagnosis of the White physician. The sufferer is most likely to suspect anyone whom he has injured or insulted, even imwittingly, for gestures of friendship could conceal a witch's grudge. Swanton (1908, p. 469) found among the Tlingit a "widespread belief in witchcraft. In fact this notion had so taken possession of the Tlingit mind that natural sickness or death was scarcely believed in." So too, one informant reported of former days that: "Every time they got sick, they say somebody witching you." "I don't think there's anybody now that believes in such things. My dad teUs me the stories, aU kinds of stories about witchcraft. Just the same, I never believe it. He says if I believe my God, that's going to be stronger than that. If I beheve in witchcraft, that's going to be my fate. But my mother, she believes lots of things. She beheves shamans, she beheves witch- craft." Another told me that people were dying off today because of witchcraft. In the past, Indian doctors coiUd prevent it, and if the Whites had left the people their native doctors the population would be increasing—at least that was what her grandfather had told her. "This time we don't beheve it. We just just think about that Bible going to help. . . . Gee, sometimes I got scared when people talk about that thing," and she proceeded to teU us "authenticated" cases of witchcraft at Sitka and Hoonah. "And that's why that native people died off. . . . That's why people fight about it in the first place when the Government stops that Indian doctors." Another woman who was in poor health said that a friend had suggested that she was a victim of witch- craft. She said that she consulted a shaman in another town, but that he ascribed her affliction to a natural cause. She herseK was evidently uncertain, for she ex- plained: "I don't believe in witches. That's aU done away with now. My mother beheved in it and saw someone tied up for witchcraft. I wouldn't believe in witchcraft unless I saw the witch doing it right in front of my eyes." And she regaled us with accounts of recent fearful happenings of a suspiciously occult nature. Stories about witchcraft are told in confidence, secretly, reluctantly, yet with fearful rehsh. "It's sure awful, I don't like to talk about it," wUl be foUowed by fuU detaUs. Of course, one must be careful never to mention the incident to the witch's relatives or descend- ants. Presumably the Yakutat natives also concur in the saying current at Angoon that persons most vocal in expressing fears of witchcraft are themselves likely to be suspected (de Laguna, 1952, p. 8). Perhaps also the too vociferous doubters may even have been suspect at Yakutat, as they were at Angoon, where those accused during the hysterical outbreak of witchcraft fears in 1957 were aU "nonbehevers" (de Laguna, 1960, p. 200, note 56). Certainly at xakutat there was also the suggestion that to know too much about witches was itseK ground for suspicion. Thus one informant remarked in the course of a long account, "I ought not to talk about it or they wiU tie me up for witchcraft." Perhaps this was haK in jest, for jokes about witchcraft are popular. For example, in the old days people were afraid to visit the cemeteries for fear of being accused of witchcraft, and such behavior today, whUe suspect, may also provide the point of a joke. One widow joked that she had not been to the cemetery this year to visit her husband's grave, for she had no one to go with her, and if she went alone someone would tie her up as a witch. The same informant used to delight in teasing 730 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 US because we had visited some of the graveyards to copy the inscriptions on the tombstones. She was just as ready to laugh, however, when I reminded her that she had accompanied us to the cemetery on Khantaak Island, where we had faUen into the graves, as she put it "up to our armpits." Joking relatives might accuse each other of flying around like witches (p. 486). Activities of Witches The witch is an evUdoer, primarUy someone who is touchy, jealous, harboring a secret grudge. Whereas the layman may suspect him, it is usuaUy only the shaman who can be sure. The most serious crimes of the witch were bringing about the deaths through lingering iUness or accident of his own relatives. These victims were usuaUy persons of importance: the master of a house, the successful hunter, the wealthy aristocrat, often the uncle or older brother of the witch. Sometimes the latter attacked the successful rival who had married the person sought as a spouse; or out of spite, the witch might attack the lost loved one or the latter's chUdren. Sometimes the precipitating incident was apparently trivial: a drunken man making noise which disturbed the witch's sleep, an uncle refusing to carry water for his nephew; but the underlying cause was deep-seated jealousy. "In the old days, all sickness was due to witches. They don't know about God then. Important people are the ones that got witched. Poor old people like Jenny and me they never bother to witch. They are trying to get even with the high-class people." The informant and the elderly Jenny burst out laughing at the thought that anyone might think they were witches, perhaps realizing that in former days they might indeed have been liable to suspicion just because they were old and poor. Witches were commonly supposed to obtain "crumbs" or food leavings (du i.a, 'iti), 'the imprint of his mouth,' and also "dirt" or "witches' stuff" (da 'itsedi), 'something from around the body.' The latter included hair, naU parings, and bits of clothing (with the body's sweat on them). My informants did not specificaUy mention spittal (cf. Swanton, 1908, p. 470) or excreta, but these M^ere presumably also used. The care with which the baby's diaper moss was destroyed suggests a fear that witches might use it (p. 504). "A witch could use food leavings, or a piece of clothing. You get awfuUy sick K they take your hair— lose your hair and your eyesight. If they take your fingernaU parings you wUl get paralyzed in your hand. Now we caU it rheumatism, rheumatics." People were careful, therefore, to guard such thmgs. For example, of food leavings, "something of his food," an informant explained: "That's why before, they always put it on the fire—don't just throw it any place." With these bits (da 'itsetxi), the witch makes tiny doUs (sik), about an inch long, twisted together, and sometimes tied up with the hair of the hairseal and thread. 'He makes doUs by winding' (qulasitwuduh^it). The witch usuaUy makes many of these images, one for each of the many persons he wishes to injure, and the doUs are said to be fashioned to represent the ways in which the victims are to die. In a specific case, a doU was fixed with a bit of red flannel as a protruding tongue, which produced such a swoUen throat that the victim could hardly swaUow. Each of the doUs is named: "This is So-and-so. This is So-and-so," the witch is supposed to say. These doUs are usuaUy taken to the graveyard and put with the remains of some dead person, formerly the ashes. Now that bodies are no longer cremated, witchcraft is said to be even more effective, for the httle images can be stuffed right inside a corpse, and as this rots, so the victims faU sick. In one specific instance, the image made of clothing scraps was put inside the carcass of a puppy that was sunk in the water. "You can't have a dead dog in your possession or they wUl tie you up for witchcraft. A rotting dog is stronger than a dead person." In a recent case reported from Angoon a baby is said to have died because bits of its clothing were buried with dead cats under the house (de Laguna, 1960, p. 200, note 56). In another instance, reported as having occurred at Hoonah, a sore throat was caused by putting a bone (food leavings?) inside the mouth of a corpse. Swanton (1908, p. 470) reports that Tlingit witches might use the supposedly poisonous shme of a frog to make their victim's eyes and mouth bulge out like a frog's. Yakutat informants faUed to mention this, although many had a horror of frogs. As long as the httle doUs remain in contact with the corpse or ashes, the persons from whose body leavings the images were made wUl suffer, faUing sick and dying, usuaUy one after another. The shaman may attempt a cure by performing over the patient, but he cannot be sure of success unless he discovers the identity of the witch and the latter can be forced to confess and to remove the images. The witch must do this himseK. The dolls are put on a sheet of bark, and the witch must plunge into the water with them, leaving them in the sea or a pond. No one else may touch them. Nor may they be burned, or else the victims would surely die. "That's witchcraft law, you know. They put it in the water, then they floating around. AU that sickness IN THREE PARTS WITCHES AND LAND OTTER MEN 731 washed away, I guess. I don't know." "They catch them [witches]; they confess. They take them out to the graves, they bring out those things. Something just funny, smaU httle straws. They tie them together, make it into like dolls. Take some hairseal hair and tie them together. How they do it, I don't know. "They used to put those coffins [for ashes] up high on stUts. They used to see sometimes the witchcraft flying up there, would catch them. "There's one story: That Indian doctor caught that witchcraft and after he confessed they took him out there and told him to go up there. And he don't climb like any normal person would. Just stick his tongue out on the pole and climb, stuck his tongue out, climb. And he moved up like that [i.e., he inched his way up the post, puUing himseK up with his tongue]. He brought down that hairseal doU. He's the only one can untie it. After that, the person gets cured. If someone else does it [unties the witch's doU], he gets kUled." And K the witch dies, "whoever he witched, he lines them up: this person first, next. . . . That's the people he witched are going to die off, even K he dies." The death of the witch is therefore not sought as an immediate end; he must remain alive to undo his speUs. Yet the statement was also made by several informants that in the old days witches were kUled. There is also some slight indication that witches were believed able to kUl simply through the power of their wicked thoughts. As one woman told me: "That's one thing that's not so good, some kind of those different spuits. I think you know about that. They caU it witchcraft." Her voice sank. "People wish: 'I wish somebody dying!' That's the way that Indian doctor told us." The informant cited a case in which one woman, angry because the young man she wanted had married another, therefore caused the deaths of aU of the latter's seven chUdren, except the oldest. The shaman named the witch and was able to save the oldest chUd but not the others. The unlucky mother had a dream in which the witch woman gave her a dead dog, telling her it was her baby. Apparently the guUty woman was never con- fronted by the shaman nor forced to confess, and the chUdren she is accused of kUling each died within a few weeks of their birth. It was believed that the witch was also responsible for the death of a grandchUd of her original rival. It wUl have been noted that witches are supposed to be capable of peculiar powers of locomotion, as in the case of the one who climbed the post of the gravebox with his tongue. More commonly witches "fly," espe- ciaUy around the graves. They are also able to make themselves very smaU in order to pass in and out of the narrow cracks in the coffins or down a 6-inch-diameter hole into a grave. In so doing, the witch might simply vanish, leaving his clothing behind. One such example was described as foUows: "My grandfather was raised in Sitka, and a long time ago, when he was a smaU boy, he saw that thing fljdng around. It's moonlight. They say, 'See it flying around!' " The informant made gestures of giant, light, hopping motions with the hands, as K they were feet that never touched the ground. "He was hopping like a frog, just his feet moving, his arms held down to his sides. Everyone ran out of the houses and saw him go around, and right back into the cemetery of grave houses behind the dweUing houses. The people foUowed him. Then 'pff!' When they tried to catch him, he disappeared. Then he went around another grave house, apparently vanishing into that. "My grandfather told us, 'That crack is about that much open [about 1 inch wide and 18 inches long].' How could that big man [go in and] come out of it? 'That's the place they come out,' the people said. They tried to catch him; that's why he went in different places." On this occasion the people were apparently unable to capture the witch. Witches also can come and go through a locked door, it is said. These Yakutat beliefs are simUar to those reported by Veniaminov (1940, vol. 3, pp. 79-81) for the Sitka Tlingit: that witches fly through the air, not by turning into birds (however, cf. p. 732), but just as they are. They frequent the cemeteries just before dawn, where they talk with the dead. Therefore, when something strange is seen or heard in the graveyard, the Tlingit, especiaUy the daring young men, wUl attempt to surround and capture the witch who is in one of the grave houses. However, the latter usuaUy just flies away, and his pursuers wiU see only his blanket flapping in the wind. Moreover, even K tied up and confined in a house under guard, the witch may simply vanish, leaving behind only his bonds. The Yakutat people reported that witches could change their shapes into the forms of animals or birds. Such creatures did not have the normal fear of human beings displayed by ordinary wUd animals, so that any animal which approached human habitations too closely was suspected. Thus, the young sea hon, pos- sibly aUing, that remained close to Yakutat for several days in September 1952, worried some people, espe- ciaUy when it sat on the rocks in front of the houses. One old woman fetched me in some agitation, teUing me to take its picture, and later throwing rocks at it to drive it away. I was told that this woman "get suspicion town is going to get a sickness. . . . That's the warning to the town, she claims." Another in- formant admitted that the strange sounds made by 265-517—72—vol. VII, pt. 2- -14 732 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 the anunal frightened her so that she was not going to come down to the lower main road of the town that night. This was because it was too close to the water where the animal had been seen. This conversation about the sea hon led to a discus- sion of witches m the form of a porpoise, a guise which they often assume. "The porpoise is a friend of witchcraft. I noticed it in Hoonah," one informant remarked and proceeded to teU about what occurred at a dance she had attended there. She was sitting with a friend, her uncle's young wife, watchmg the square dance, when people began to whisper. Although her companion was so embarrassed she didn't want to explain, she finally admitted that a wdtch had just entered the haU. She had "come over from the graveyard as a porpoise." This young woman, the "best dressed girl at the dance," had previously slipped away from her boy friend and gone down to the beach. There she "got into a porpoise skin" and visited the gTaveyard. This is on the island opposite the town. "Her boy friend went to the beach to look for her under the dock, and he saw the porpoise come from the graveyard and land right at the beach. And from the porpoise that sweetheart of his come out! There was no boat—moonhght and everything. He got so dis- gusted he quit her right there. He don't come back to the dance. But she come in. 'That young lady. Not even ashamed of herself. Dirty witchcraft!' Everybody looking at her.—I think they just imagine it. How could that be?—'At'enaxwa 'awli6ic—She take advan- tage of the dance and just sneaks out [to visit the graveyard]. She was just showing off that dirty busi- ness. . . . She didn't even get ashamed in her face!" My informant added that more recently a simUar case had been seen in Hoonah. On a different occasion another friend who was with us when some porpoises swam close to the shore also told us that such animals were often witches. She had heard it as a little girl when visiting her uncle's tribal house in Hoonah. One evening, she and her little cousin went to the outhouse which was built over the beach, and they heard a porpoise making a noise underneath them. They were so scared they just dropped their lantern and ran back to the house. They told her uncle, the house chief, what they had heard, and he went run- ning down to the shore, caUing out "Nuk"^ ^ati! nuk'' ^ati! [witch! witch!]" However, he didn't see anything. The reason he did that was because if some animal is acting strangely, or is where it ought not to be, then if it is a witch, it wUl turn into a human form when you caU it nuk'^ ^ati. Confrontation and public accusation are evidently effective in such instances. Perhaps the frequent associa- tion of wereporpoises and witches at Hoonah may be due to the fact that the TcukAnedi, "Grass People," a Wolf sib of Hoonah, claim the Porpoise as a crest. Swanton (1908, p. 471) also teUs of a TcukAnedi man who used to "lie on a sealskin and let it swim out of the house with him, and he would go out to sea just like a porpoise. . . ." StiU, this case was different, because the man apparently retained his human shape, and the people used to attach a line to him. This demonstration of power seems, in fact, more like the act of a shaman than of the witch, as Swanton reported it. Witches may also assume the form of birds in order to fly about the graveyards. Swanton (1908, p. 471) teUs of one who was shot in the guise of an owl(?), but when wounded resumed his human form. At Yakutat, witches are likely to become cranes. "X and his nephew sneaked out to Ankau [cemetery] the night that Y was buried, and watched. They heard a big crane by the lake. That's one of the shapes they take. When they came back and told about it, people told them, 'That's a witchcraft.' They didn't know that at the time, but they were so scared they held on to one another. The evening of the day that P was buried, Q was standing outside and he heard that big crane over by the Ankau. I hear they always hear that after they bury somebody." Dogs wiU give warning that witches are about by barking toward the graveyard. It is characteristic of witches to wander about at night, or to disappear for several days at a time from their homes. Such wanderers were drawn irresistibly to the cemetery, without knowing how they got there. Even though it might have been stormy weather, the witch woiUd be quite dry when he reappeared, but might carry a graveyard stench from sleeping in a grave. Some- times a witch has been seen dancing naked on a grave. Although witches under such conditions had not changed their shape, they were described by those who had seen them as pale and looking queer. A witch returning from such an excursion would be afraid of the cross on top of the Church and might not be able to pass by on the road. Olson (1961, p. 218) also reports that sorcerers (witches) visit the graves of the recently deceased be- cause they are "impeUed by a 'feeling' or a spirit within them." "Two motives compel the sorcerers: Either they wish to have intercourse with the dead or to work magic against some person they wish to harm." They may bewitch an individual of the opposite sex in order to have intercourse with him or her, flying to the lover at night, undeterred by distance or locked doors. However, witches themselves are reported to say that the dead caU them to the cemetery, and that "intercourse with the (spirits of) the dead was more pleasurable than sexual relations with the living." IN THREE PARTS WITCHES AND LAND OTTER MEN 733 Origin of Witches According to one informant, witchcraft originated among the Tsimshian. A man of this tribe had "a fit or something" and began to act as if he were be- coming a shaman, but others laughed at him. Deter- mined to become the greatest shaman of aU, he took a human skuU, fiUed it up with water and drank from it. When he first drank, "it started to affect him," so he tried it again. Soon a spirit began coming to him, and he exclaimed: "HI! 'Coming-to-the-VUlage' ('ankA na yAqagut da!)." That was the name of the spirit he thought he was going to acquire. The spirit came, but it was an evU spirit, and instead of becoming a shaman, he became "an evU witchcraft." He started to go to the graves and to witch others. That is how it began— because he drank from a human skuU. It was, we understand, from this first witch that aU others were created through a kind of infection. The association of witchcraft power with human bones is clearly shown in this story (see also p. 734), and seems to confirm Swanton's deduction (1908, p. 470): "It is probable that the bones of a human bemg were also employed in witchcraft, as among the Kwakiutl, but the writer has no direct statement to that effect." My narrator denied that a shaman who simply made a mistake in his noviciate would become a witch. Rather, he would go "crazy" (insane) and die. Swanton (1909, Tale 85) also records the story of an 'An±akhittan man of ElUlisnoo who sought to become a witch in order to seek revenge on his faithless wife and her lover. At first, he played in vain with the bodies and bones in two graveyards, but when he fanned and rubbed himself with two shoulder blades he fainted and was successful. He could fly by flapping the scap- ulae like wings. There is, however, no indication that he was supposed to have been the first witch. According to Krause (1956, p. 200): "Witches, both men and women, are called 'nakutsati' and are supposed to have learned their skUls from Eaven while he hved on earth." Swanton's WrangeU informant, Katishan (1909, Tale 31, pp. 134-135), attributed the origin of witchcraft to the Haida where two dissolute youths learned how to acquire the power from a slave. The latter told them to sleep among the driftwood on the beach. Here they were visited by a mouse in the guise of a fine looking woman who taught them the black arts. One adopted the shape of a goose, the other that of a brant. One man discovered their identity in a dream, but they bribed him to sUence by offering to let him win 10 slaves by gambling. A Tlingit man who visited the Queen Charlotte Islands was told this story and repeated it when he returned home, "and wherever he told it there began to be wizards. Therefore witch- craft came to Alaska through the sons of Aya'yi and through the Haida." Aya'yi, said to be a Haida name, was a cannibal at Yakutat (LAxayi'k) who ate his brothers-in-law. Raven taught his sons how to avenge their dead uncles, by making a canoe of the dead men's skins, sewn with human hair, and a drum of human skin. When they came to their father's town in their canoe and beat on the drum, the entire town sank with aU its inhabitants. Today, there are sheUs marking the site. Then Raven taught the sons how to restore their dead uncles to life. Although this last is clearly a different story, Katishan included it in his long narrative (Swanton, 1909, Tale 31, pp. 89-91). According to the story told by an old man from Kake about Djiyi'n or Djtin, a female shaman (Swanton, 1909, Tale 42, and Haida versions), the first witch was a wUd canary (s!as!) who made a chief and his daughter sick by putting their hair, food leavings, and scraps of clothing, together with certain leaves, inside a human skuU. "Before the events narrated in this story people did not know anything about witchcraft, and the ancients used to say that it was from this bird that they learned it years ago" (ibid., p. 186). It may be significant that the story is localized at Klinkwan, a town on Prince of Wales Island, formerly Tlingit but later occupied by the Kaigani Haida. Thus, except for some tendency to ascribe witchcraft, hke aU arts, to Raven, the Tlingit, including the Yakutat people, are inchned to think of their southern neighbors as responsible for witchcraft, as weU as for much of shamanism. The witch derives his power from a spirit (hix'^). This is not a yek, hke the spirit of the shaman, but "an evU spirit." It may also be caUed 'master of sickness' (nuk'' ^ati), like the witch himself. In fact, there seems to be no clear terminological distinction between the man and the spirit that possesses him, just as we saw that the shaman {'ixt) could also be caUed 'spirit' (yek) (p. 707). Thus, as one informant put it: "Boss of sickness— nuk'' sati. They're not themselves when they witching people. I can prove that," and went on to teU of a case in which a shaman was caUed on to reveal "anybody's got witch in them." When asked for further detaUs about the spirit, the informant said: "I don't know the name of the witch spirit. Witch is the thing that goes to the graveyard and handles the dead. . . . You're not yourself when that witch spirit comes on you. You don't even know what you're douig. [This seems to apply both to the veteran witch and to his new recruit.] If you got a husband, wife, sister, brother, you just come to them. You see it in the funny 734 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 paper nowadays. [Obscure reference to "Superman."] Looks like a living person, but you got that spirit. You got evU spu-it, you go to them [to bewitch them]. That's why they're not scared of people that caU them witchcraft." This seems to indicate that the witch acts under compulsion of the evU spirit possessing him to bewitch (harm or recruit) his relative. Because he is unconscious of his act, he is not afraid to be accused of witchcraf t(?). From the context of this account, it woiUd seem that the "witch spnit" helps his protege to defend his in- nocence if the latter is accused, by teUing him of the tests which the shaman may impose. Another informant explained the witch's spurit: "That's dead people spirit ... I don't know what kind. They says some kind of spirit they got—evU spirits, they says. That's as far as I know. Or dog spnit, or something. Some people says if they witch with that dogskin, that dog spirit they got it. That's the way they says. And if they witch with that cat or some- ting, they got that spirit." This statement refers to the belief that witches obtain power over others (make a new witch), by touching them with a dogskin, dog's paw, or another part of a dead dog. The same informant also said that a witch might hit someone with a human bone. The body of a dead dog or the ashes or corpse of a human being were used also in bringing illness to someone. No specific instance involving the use of a cat was mentioned at Yakutat, but cats figured largely in the recent mtchcraft cases at Angoon (de Lag-una, 1960, p. 200, n. 56). Is the witch spirit (hix'') the ghost of the dead or the spirit (qwani) of the dog or cat, in the same way that the 'spirit of a dog' (ketl qu yek) became the famihar of the shaman Gutcda? Or is the human corpse or the body of the domestic animal only the medium by means of which the evU spirit (hix^) or power of witchcraft may be transferred? The -witch usuaUy tried to harm others through their food leavings or "dirt," and since it was often difficult for an adult to obtain these, the witch would attempt to obtain a young relative as his assistant. This was given as the major reason why youngsters were so often bewitched, and why witchcraft was likely to spread in the same famUy hue. Thus, first the uncle might be a witch, then his nephew. "That's the way it is, one famUy." "See, if I got a witchcraft spirit," a woman said, "my daughter's kids, my side [would get it]. 'I'itqca 'des- cended from you people, related to you' [would get yours]. They give them that evU spirit. It keeps going in the famUy." The witch would seek out as novices and assistants the chUdren in his own lineage. "They always wanted to get their own—mostly kids. That's why they don't want kids to go out in the dark, because it's always m the dark [that it happens; cf. p. 508]. And the way they witch them is they use this dog pelts. They throw it on them. Or dog bones, something, they always use. . . - They just get unconscious, and when they start to come to, he [the witch] always teUs them what to do, instructs them, to do something, mostly to their uncles," that is, to procure some of his food leavings. "They got dogskin and dog's paw—put it on you and it put you to sleep." Two girls at Angoon, who claimed to have been bewitched, not only said that they had seen a witch turn into a cat, but also testified that they themselves had been transformed into cats on several occasions when touched by a human(?) bone held by one of the witches during midnight rites in the cemetery (de Laguna, 1960, p. 200, n. 56). Association of witches with cats is probably a European concept, readUy adopted by the Tlingit because of their aboriginal behefs concerning dogs. The use of the dogskin or of the human bone, indeed practicaUy aU of Tlingit or Yakutat beliefs about witchcraft, are shared with the Eyak (Bu-ket-Smith and de Laguna, 1938, p. 207). At Yakutat or Dry Bay, the witch might use "that people's bones, or something" to hit his victim. The one bewitched can't teU. "You know that little girl or little boy, when they throw something on him—just like they sleep, you know, lay down. They don't know nothing. After whUe, they wake up. They see that man or woman standing there [the witch]. . . . They don't know what they doing, you know. When they go out nighttime, just like somebody grab that witchcraft spirits. They can't help it, you know." The informant compared the bewitched chUd to one who has been "saved" by the Land Otter People, and who has to follow them and becomes a simUarly transformed person (cf. pp. 744-755). Apparently the bewitched discovers his condition when he experiences the feeling of attrac- tion for the graveyard. Witches, it would seem, appear to be under compul- sion to congregate in the graveyard at night, and the newly bewitched is forced to join them there. "When a witchcraft [the novice] walks out in the dark, he can hear them in the graveyard. And they always caU him. Qada-'itsedi-qwani ['spirits of human leavings']—that's the people that takes the stuff [clothing bits] from people. They want to get hold of them. Take it over to the graveyard. They say there's always big show going on over there. The new witch- craft just get helpless, they have to go over there. . . . That's why they [the newly bewitched, or those fearing it] don't go out in the dark. They're afraid. Whenever they go out in the dark, they can get hold of it [i.e., the witches can get the unwiUing novice]. Whenever IN THREE PARTS WITCHES AND LAND OTTER MEN 735 they go out in the woods, they always teU the bushes, trees, anything, what they do. Just like confession, so they get over it. . . . Wherever he goes, he teUs any- thing—bushes, stumps, trees—he teUs them that he's a witchcraft." Apparently this voluntary confession frees the un- wUling novice from the evU influence. SimUarly in a witchcraft trial, one who could claim to have helped a witch only under duress was judged innocent. As was reported in one case which perhaps occurred in 1895: "She spoke up and told how they'd beaten her hke a rag. She was a young girl and could go anywhere to get food leavings but the old people couldn't. They wanted her to fetch dirt. They used to bang her around, knock her off the bench. Gutcda [the shaman] said she was innocent, because she said she didn't want to be a witchcraft. 'They tried to do it to her, but there's nothing of it inside of her.' " In other cases the shaman might counteract the witchcraft, if consulted in time. He does this by ex- tracting the tiny objects hke quUls which have entered the victim's forehead when the witch struck him with the dogskin or other object. '"Ixt; can cure it in the first place. When somebody hits you, you going to go to 'ixt. It's right over there [center of forehead]—^just hke that porcupine's fur, that needles, it looks like it. . . . That Indian doctor can take it out [provided] it's not go in yet, this thing." This extraction is caUed wudulixawAq—"he takes away that evil spirit, witchcraft spirit, like they puU out fur." ®^ If, however, the quiUs have reaUy gone inside, then the victim is "already a witchcraft," beyond cure. He wiU then try to make someone else a witch like himself, and "he's going to go to that dead bodies." A specific case of this kind was cited as having happened to a Chilkat boy from Haines who was visiting Juneau. Swanton (1908, p. 469) may also be referring to a similar instance when he reports that the shaman who has gone to his patient and performed over him, would then announce "who had bewitched him, at the same time pretending to draw out a spear, or something of the kind, from the affected part, whUe making a noise with his hps." According to Katishan of WrangeU (Swanton, 1909, Tale 31, p. 135), the Tlingit "also learned from the Haida that witchcraft may be imparted by means of berries. When women are gathering these, they do not pick up the ones that are dropped accidentaUy, no matter how many they may be, because that is what witches do." This taboo was certainly being observed at Angoon in 1950, and though not specificaUy re- corded at Yakutat, it was probably also held there. 88 Boas, 1917. p. 129, ^kw, hair. Some persons are just "sohd" (duk), or impenetra- ble, and cannot be witched. Of such a person one would say: 'the surface of his mind is impenetrable' (tuwu dak dzi-duk), "just sohd hke rock. Nothing can get into them." A witch would see this quahty and would not bother him. Nor can one persuade a sohd person to do wrong. "If he's sohd, you can't make him do wrong. If he's not sohd, right away he's going to do it." This sohd feehng is like physical strength (lAtsin) and is achieved through the same hardening exercises, icy baths, and simUar activity. Thus the wife of a witch may be sohd: "If she find out, she's going to teU on him, and he's always afraid. . . . He can't witch her. She's going to teU. . . . If a person is sohd, if his feehngs is sohd, he's going to teU right away. . . . Some people he can't do anything about them. Even if he try to witch her, right away she catch on, and she's going to teU them [the people]. Right away they're going to tie him up, kick that evU stuff out of him." The brother of a witch or even his own mother might be sohd, and such an upright, incorruptable person would at once denounce the witch. In fact, such an accusation of a relative establishes one's own honesty and innocence. "That way they can prove it." Despite the fact, therefore, that the witch and the bewitched accomphce are both victims, their condition does involve some element of consent or of moral weakness, and hence of guUt. AU, even the frightened chUd with the quiUs in his forehead, must make con- fession to be saved. For the hardened witch such con- fession can only be extracted through torture. The evU must be beaten out of him. Identifying the Witch and Destroying His Power The witch betrayed himseK or herself by many signs, some of which could be detected or interpreted only by a shaman, although any antisocial or abnormal behavior rendered a person suspect. "If anybody did he or steal, they thought he was witchcraft, and they kUled him. They had to kUl the witchcraft. If they don't kiU the first one, then another person would be witchcraft, and then another. Soon there would be lots. That's why they kUled a witchcraft right away. After they kUled off the witchcraft, then they give a potlatch to respect him." Grown brothers and sisters who broke the rule of respectful avoidance and spoke to each other "would go crazy. They would get tied up for witchcraft. A girl, when they mature and are not even ashamed of any- 736 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 thing . . . that shows she's a witchcraft. . . . They tie you up for witchcraft if you talk to your brother. But if you have to, it's OK. They didn't think the mission kids were witches." Persons who had sexual relations with a feUow sib- mate or who were promiscuous were like witches. To be "crazy" is a euphemistic expression in Enghsh which designates the witch or one who acts like one. Thus the witch or the bewitched is "crazy, or fooling around. . . . [She] go around with different man aU the time, never get ashamed about it. Even they get married, go around with different man. That's witchcraft. Never stay in one place with her husband—go around aU the time." WhUe actual incest would certainly be taken as proof of witchcraft, suspects may be simply those who "don't hsten, they don't have respect of people. . . . That's the kind of people they no good, they says, olden times." A man whose conduct brought disgrace and trouble to his lineage might be caUed "a 'slave'—no good for anything. Sometimes they caU them a witchcraft. They have no respect for him—kick him out of the way." However, no one would dare do this to a true witch! "If he's a real witchcraft, and a guy kicked him out of the way, he [the kicker] begins to get UI." Then the people would know that he had been witched and would attempt to seize the culprit. The use of "poison" to harm another, or recourse to love magic if the user were a girl, are said to be characteristic of witches. It should, however, be noted that the epithet "witch- craft" may be applied to the delinquent, antisocial, or no-account person without crediting him or her with occult powers. WhUe a dreadful insult, such an accusa- tion may be exchanged between persons in the heat of a quarrel. If an important person faUs sick; if there is a serious lingering Ulness that does not respond to the usual cures; if several members of a famUy are afflicted, especiaUy if several babies die in succession; then witchcraft is legitmately suspected. The same might be the case if someone suffered a series of mysterious accidents, such as cutting one's foot, spraining an ankle, and then breaking an arm: "That's witchcraft. . . . They go to Indian doctor, then Indian doctor teUs who did it. Then they tie up [the witch]. Then afterwards they teU [the witch con- fesses]." The shaman who was summoned had, however, to belong to a different sib from that of the suspected witch. This was because "the doctor in his own tribe is the first thing he's [the witch] going to work on, so he woiUdn't see it." It should also be remembered that the witch and victim are, or traditionaUy were, members of the same sib or hneage, unless the witch is attacking his enemy through his wife or chUd. Therefore, the shaman should not belong to the sib of the patient; ideaUy he should not be related to him at all, and should preferably come from a different tribe. Probably this was the reason why Gutcda, the Thik'^axAdi shaman from Dry Bay, seems to have been caUed in several cases at Yakutat in the 1890s, and why Athabaskan shamans from the upper Alsek River or Thngit doctors from southeastern Alaska were consulted by Dry Bay and Yakutat people. WhUe one informant maintained that a shaman could not cure his own child of witchcraft, another mentioned such a case (p. 743). My informants did not report the practice described by both Krause (1956, p. 200) and Swanton (1908, p. 469) of sending a messenger to summon the shaman by caUing to him four times in front of his house, al- though this was probably also the Yakutat practice. According to Veniaminov (1840, vol. Ill, p. 76), the doctor could hear in the tones of the messenger the voice of the one who had bewitched the sick man. At the house of the patient, assuming it to be a case of illness, aU the relatives would be gathered, and there, after being paid his fee, the doctor would summon his spirits and go into a trance. He would apparently at- tempt to cure the patient directly and also to ascertain the identity of the witch responsible, a person who was probably present among the spectators. The shaman also tried to discover the associates or accomphces of the witch. Often these seances had to be repeated several times before the shaman was sure who was guUty. Then the spirit in him pronounced their names, not directly, but in punning fashion, or indicated them by some descriptive phrase. My Yakutat informants did not mention that a live crab might be used to de- termine the witch, as in a case at Haines (reported by Dr. McCleUan). Rather, the shaman himself is led by his spirit around the circle of spectators imtU he comes to the guUty one. Thus, Gutcda used to summon his Dog Spirit (ketl qu yek). "When the Indian doctor sends his spirit around to find out the witch, he [Gutcda] goes around in a cncle, barldng lUie a dog. He stops in front of that witch and barks like anything." It wUl be remembered that the shaman Tek-'ic used a cane caUed "Witchcraft Dog" which would point out the witch (p. 696). In a seance at WrangeU in 1878, vividly described by Young (1927, p. 125), the shaman yelps like a dog, pretends to haul in an invisible rope, and is led by this to the terrified slave whom he denounces as a witch, then faUs in convulsions. Then the Avitch is seized, and tied up, his hands behind his back and fastened to his hair, so that his head is strained back. Since he naturally resists and those who handle him are the husky young male relatives of the patient, he is usuaUy badly mauled in the process. Strong women simUarly seize and tie up a female witch IN THREE PARTS WITCHES AND LAND OTTER MEN 737 or accomphce. The witch is confined without food or water untU he confesses. He may be further beaten, and the rope connecting his hands and his hair tightened, in order to hasten the process. It traditionaUy takes 8 days, in some cases 10. Swanton (1908, pp. 469-470) reports that: "If he refused to confess he was liberated at the end of the time given, but not infre- quently he died before its expiration. Sometimes, how- ever, his friends interfered and bloodshed resulted." Hope of survival or escape with out admitting guUt and incurring the resultant stigma, as weU as fear that he wiU be kUled anyway, even if he does confess, may explain why witches held out against such torture. Some persons were no doubt convinced of their inno- cence, or knew that they would be unable to find the witch's doUs or be competent to deal with them. In addition to the treatment described at Yakutat, Krause (1956, pp. 200, 203) mentioned forcing the witch to drink sea water to aggravate his thirst, holding her imder water untU she nearly drowned, and then laying her naked on hot ashes, or beating her with fir branches and devUclubs. One of two girls so treated died, the other was later hanged. Young (1927, p. 114) describes simUar treatment of witches at WrangeU. WhUe this torture undoubtedly satisfied the sadistic and vengeful feelings of the patient's relatives, it was also beheved necessary to bring about a cure of the pa- tient. This is made clear in the story of the girl who witched herself (p. 739). As explained by one informant: "They grab him [the witch], they tie him up. It's not easy. Wiien they tie him up, they cut a hole in his head [scalp?] and put devUclubs through it. Tie his hands behind him with ropes (dzas). If they [the witch] don't talk, they claim they have hds, about eight of them, one above the other. So in order to make him talk, they have to knock one off another. As long as that thing don't faU off, he can't talk. He can't untU it's aU opened up. Then he starts to talk." The eight hds on the witch are knocked off by beat- ings and by tightening the rope between his bound hands and his hair. Since the torture was apt to last 8 days, we may infer that it took a day for each hd to faU. If he did not confess for 10 days, presumably there were 10 hds. As to the nature of these coverings, our informant could teU no thmg further. "It's just the way it looks to these Indian doctors." However, I gather from a specific case (p. 741), the number of days the witch had to suffer might be de- termined in advance by the shaman (perhaps because he could see and count the lids?), and that these days corresponded in number to the number of times that the witch himself had been bewitched. According to Olson (1962, pp. 216-217), the witch or sorcerer has "eight 'covers,' hke skins, inside his body. These are caUed duhtuyi'k ga'tkli [dutuyik gatl'i]. 'inside him (or her) clam,'. . . ." "Only another and stronger sorcerer can make these open and cure the person of sorcery." No matter how much a witch might want to confess it would be impossible unless these eight covers were opened, and Olson tells the pitiful story of a witch woman who committed suicide because she was unable to confess, since the sorcerer who was working to open her covers was thwarted by a stUl stronger witch. The concept that only another witch can open the covers, or remove the hds, is certainly at variance with my information, which clearly indicates that this was done by the shaman. Does Olson's information mean, however, that only the shaman who has some of the same power as the witch—one who perhaps has a dog for a yek, as the witch has a dog spirit for his hix"^—can deal with witches? There are also a number of signs by means of which the shaman can recognize a witch, whUe the latter at- tempts to use the hds to hide his identity. "These Indian doctors can teU it. They claim this witchcraft, they have to cover their head. Mostly in the morning, smoke coming out of the top of his head—• du CAM he^e ['his head-top smoke-of']. Sometimes it's hard for the doctor to see. Morning's the only time he can see them. Only doctors see it. Later in the day the witch sinks himself to the bottom of a pond, nuk^ sati 'ayi ['witches' lake']. . . . The Indian doctor can't see him then. Early in the morning it's easy to see them; later in the day they are hidden in the pond." This "lake" is not an actual one, hke that in which the confessed witch wiU plunge with his images to wash; it is a metaphorical one. "It just looks to them [shamans] like a pond of water." One might also deduce from the statement quoted above that when shamans attempted to discover witches, they held their seances in the morning, but Veniaminov (1840, vol. Ill, p. 76) specified the evening. During these performances the shaman apparently sees or recognizes in turn a series of witchcraft signs, each of which appears to him as a kind of water. "That's the way they look. That's the way these Indian doctors always find out. . . . It's the water, the one he looks through." The process is caUed "he is tracing the witch" (nuk'^ §ati 'acu ysnatin), or "one by one he is tracing the mtch" (nuk'^ §ati ya 'acuyuk qatinin). "That word ['acu], it sounds like you wash your clothes, then put one up on the line, next one you put up like that. He puts one up, then the next one, that shaman," commented the informant. Among the various "water" signs examined in this way was 'Water-of towards-the-town his-name' ('ande du sak'^[?] hini). "He wants his name to be mentioned aU the time. No matter what he does, his name's got to 738 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 be mentioned. He wants to be noticed, to be con- spicuous." Another sign was 'Water-of to-the-end~he-teUs-a- story' (cuxihiik hini). "When he hears a story he always add some more to it—people get in trouble, or some- thing," that is, he spreads slander and bears false wit- ness, embroidering rumor. There is also 'Water-of desire-for-one-another' (wucdatuwu hini), that is, incestuous desires. "That's the one not ashamed of fooling around with his own tribe's sisters, things hke that." 'Water of theft' (taw hini)—"Stealing is another sign." Laziness was also a water sign, but the informant was not sure how to say it ('ucka hini?). The witch also "mumbles" and mutters (ia tl'unk), although this is not associated with water. "He mum- bles. He don't come out with his words. You can't joke with him. If you try to joke with him, he gets mad." The witch also shrinks away from people (tu ya xutk). "He shrinks right away if you say something to him. Even if you say good things to him. . . ." The informant mentioned that there were many more water signs which he had forgotten. These ideas were shared with the Southern Tlingit. Thus, Katishan of WrangeU told Swanton (1909, Tale 31, p. 134), referring to the first two Haida witches who learned their art by sleeping on the beach and afterwards flew about like birds: "Nowadays a person among the natives who sleeps much is said to be of no account, for it was through sleep that witchcraft started. They also say that a wizard has no respect for anything and never speaks to his neighbors." He also explained (ibid., p. 135): "The shamans say it is this way: A man claims that he sees a large creek. It is witchcraft. A smaUer creek flows into this. It is the lying creek. Another creek comes into it. It is the steahng creek. StiU another comes into it. It is the profligates' creek. AU these are in witchcraft." The shaman can also detect the witch from the sound of his footsteps, a Yakutat informant reported: "When he got his spirit on any one that's witch, it's like you walk on thin ice. It's like walking in crystals of ice. It cracks. It sounds that way to him [the shaman] when the witch is walking." Two Haida methods of discovering and dealing with witches were described. In these, mice were slowly kUled, and as they died, the witch exhibited the same symptoms of distress and died at the same time as the mice (p. 739). The connection between the witch and mouse was not, however, explained, except that the animal was believed in some way to be connected with witchcraft. According to Swanton (1908, p. 471) mice are supposed to help the witch by stealing people's things for him, or they may go inside the body of a corpse or of a living man and eat out the inside. However, as indicated by a shaman's mask found by Emmons as Dry Bay (pi. 186), mice may also help the doctor. This mask represents the face of a man with figures of mice on the cheeks, and was worn by the shaman when practicing about the sick and be- witched. In this case, the mice are believed to eat out the secrets of witchcraft and of the spirits of the dead, according to Emmons' notes. The association of mice and witchcraft appear to be of Haida derivation. The evU spirit in the witch appears to resist detection as long as possible. For example, when one Yakutat man was tied up as a witch, Gutcda confirmed his diagnosis by offering him a drink of apparently clear water (p. 741). The evil spirit knew it had been taken from a footstep and "told" the witch, who therefore rejected the proffered drink, and thereby betrayed himself. Although no explanation was given, one might conclude that drinking such water would have exorcised the spirit. FinaUy, after the witch has confessed and secured the images of his victims, the evU is washed away from these and also from the witch himself, when he plunges with the dolls into the water. WITCHCRAFT STORIES The Girl who Witched Herself This girl goes picking berries with her mother, and she doesn't like it—she works too hard. WeU, anyway. she had this evU spnit. One night she got up and she took that shoe and she took part of the heel off from it and took it out in the grave and fixed it just like niUs^ ^ati [witches] would fix it. It was her own shoe; she thought it was her mother's. IN THREE PARTS WITCHES AND LAND OTTER MEN 739 Pretty soon it start to affect her. They ask her what happened. AU she says is: "G^A, t6a hix'^u da ga:^—'WeU, just hke praying to evU.'" He [the shaman] ask why, what's happening to her. That's how they find out, she witched herself. She's getting worse, and after this Indian doctor find out she done that to herself, they ask her how come she don't get it back [i.e., the piece of her shoe from the grave]. She says she can't; she tried. They tie up the witchcraft, and she can't get it back [because she wasn't tied up]. They have to suffer for it, I guess. ... I think she died, I don't know. [The narrator explained that the witch must suffer before he can undo his speUs, and confirmed the state- ment that if someone defends a person suspected of witchcraft, the witch cannot save him if he happens to be one of the victims.] Haida IVIethods: the Woman who Witched Her Own Son This woman witched her own son. Her son was a great hunter, he gets everything that he can. And pretty soon he got UI. And they don't know what's wrong with him, and his mother talks hke somebody was doing that. FinaUy they got this hex'^a [magic], caUed Dekina hex^a, "Haida's hex'^a." And that there was a skuU, human skuU. And they caught httle mice, those field mice [only one?]. And they put it inside. And that httle mice, that's going to be the witchcraft who was doing that, and they put it close to the fire, just so far away, and then this man's mother says: "Now we're going to find out who's doing aU these things to my son,"—Just like she don't do it. So pretty soon they move it a httle closer and she begin to talk faster and faster, and pretty soon they start moving it, and those httle mice start sweating and moving around, and she start sweating, too. Then she break down and can't do anything. The effect was too much for her. Her son saw it and turned around and said: "Go ahead, move it closer." And they moved it closer. The httle mice died and she died, too. He got strong. He got over that iU. . . . There's another one, [prompted by the sug- gestion that the Haida put the witch into water to drive out the witchcraft mouse, cf. Murdock, 1938, pp. 260-261]: They put a mouse tied on the beach. And the tide coming up on it. And when whoever it was [was the witch] start running back and forth, just walk in front of the viUage, just keep walking. And pretty soon just dropped dead when the tide went over it [the mouse]. That's one of those Dekina hex^ stuff, I guess. [The informant went on to explain a Haida method for detecting a thief, and while he was careful to state that the foUowing case did not involve witchcraft, the means used certainly are similar to those employed by witches.] There was a young man who liked to gamble, but pretty soon he was losing, and so he began to steal his uncle's things. [If he had told his uncle what he was doing, this would have been excused, even though the latter had not given permission.] When the uncle dis- covered that his property was missing, he wanted to find out who had stolen it. So they took some charcoal from a funeral pyre (qayixudzi). They fixed it to look like a man and put it in front of the viUage. Then they began to put httle sticks into the eyes, and said they were going to destroy the face. The young thief was sleeping aU through it. He didn't get up, he just covered his face, and at first they didn't know what had happened. Then they discovered that his face was aU spoiling. [The narrator did not know whether the magical destruction was then ended, or whether the young man's face was restored, but in any case he admitted his guUt.] The Witching of ^^adanek' and his Relatives [The foUowing summary has been compUed from many statements made by the same informant, 1952 and 1954.] ]?[adanek (1843-88), a Teqwedi man of Bear House on Khantaak Island and of Coward House at Situk, was witched to death by his older brother, Ca-kuwakan (1831-99). The latter was the uncle and father-in-law of Sitka Ned (see pp. 740-743). ]§^adanek knew that his older brother was guUty because he dreamed that the latter had told him to shoot a sea otter for him in Icy Bay [and he had not done so?]. Although Tek-'ic was the oldest brother of both men, and head of Bear House, he was, of course, not able to help. Apparently it was the Dry Bay shaman, Gutcda, who made ]^adanek dream of the witch, or else interpreted the dream for him. He also told the dying man that Tanu:^, another Teqwedi man (see p. 741), was acting as partner to Ca-kuwakan. Xadanek had been a fine hunter of bear and sea otter, but his brother witched him out of jealousy, and also because he wanted to marry his wife. He first crippled him, so that the 740 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 younger man had to go on crutches, leaning on his ^\dfe, and could hardly sit m a canoe. Later, his lunbs seemed almost to come apart at the joints, he could not speak above a whisper, and could not swaUow water. When ]^adanek knew that he was dying, he sent his oldest son and his wife's young brother to fetch Ca-kuwakan from Port Mulgrave to Situk. For some days, the witch avoided them. FinaUy he accompanied them back to Situk. His face was blackened, and he was weeping, pretending to grieve for his brother. The dying man was lying by the fire in the middle of the house, with a gun hidden under his blanket. He intended to shoot his brother so that he would not be able to kiU any more people. No one knew his intentions but the witch. The latter sat down at the foot of his bedding and took his brother's httle daughter in his lap, so that the father did not dare shoot. FmaUy, the latter drew out the gun, but their sister stood right in the line of fire and refused to move. She knew that the sick man would die and did not want to lose the other brother also. So the dying man threw the gun away. He told his brother his dream and that he knew he had witched hun by putting his personal leavings in the shaman's grave house at Gucin6 (as the site of Diyaguna'Et was then caUed). He said that he had been going to kiU him so that he could not be accused of witchcraft and thus bring disgrace on aU his rela- tives, and on aU the Teqwedi. But he could not do it because the witch was holdmg his little girl. He made his brother promise to support his chUdren after his death. And Ca-kuwakan promised also not to do any more witching. ]§[adanek died that night. But no one did anything to Ca-kuwakan. When the widow had divided up her dead husband's things among his brothers and sisters, Ca-kuwakan again wanted to marry her, so that he could care for her chUdren, he said, but she rejected him. At the potlatch for the dead man, his relatives gave the widow a lot of money and blankets. This made Ca-kuwakan jealous. He hated to see the woman become wealthy. Some years later, perhaps about 1896, the dead man's 12-year-old daughter was aUing. She had fainting spells, sweatings, and palpitations. Her maternal uncles, sus- pecting witchcraft, caUed in Gutcda. The latter sent his spirit and determined that Ca-kuwakan was guUty. The shaman caUed the patient's mother and her aunt and uncles outside the house to tell them, because he did not want the chUd to overhear. Gutcda said that Ca-kuwakan had made an image of his niece out of her things and had put it inside the doubled-up carcass of a httle puppy, tied head down in the water. He was going to leave it there untU she died in a shnUar manner. Qutcda did nothing further, only cautioned the relatives to watch the same person that had witched the httle girl's father. Then the chUd's maternal uncles went quietly to the guilty man, theu- brother-in-law, and told him to throw away the witch's stuff and to leave the gkl and her mother alone. Otherwise, he would be tied up. The httle gnl recovered. [Curious that on this occasion the witch could undo his spells without suffering torture or without confes- sion.] But Ca-kuwakan was stUl jealous of his brother's widow. [By this time he had become head of Bear House on Khantaak Island, after the death of his brother, Tek-'ic. He was later to help his nephew and son-in-law, Sitka Ned, buUd Coward House m the Old ViUage, named for the house at Situk.] Then the widow's second husband, another Teqwedi man, died (about 1902?). It was suggested that a witch and his wife were responsible. The young second hus- band rarely got drunk, but one night when he was intoxicated he made a noise going past the house of the witch. When the witch complained, the young man's wife lost her temper and said insulting things: "Can't they lose their sleep for once?" That was why the witch kUled this young man, her second husband. FinaUy, this woman herself died (about 1912?). Al- though she was not sick for more than 2 or 3 days, her her iUness was so severe that she had to sit with her head between her knees. She could not he down, and if she straightened her head, her heart pounded. Although the identity of the witch was known, no one tried to do anything about it. The dead woman had been so kind to everybody that no one wanted to make further trouble. [My informant must be mistaken in identifying Ca- kuwakan as the witch responsible for these last two deaths, since he had died in 1899.] The Witching of Sitka Ned [The foUowing account has been compUed from statements made by various anonymous informants.] Sitka Ned, Q^ctan, who had helped his uncle and father-in-law, Ca-kuwakan build Coward House in the Old VUlage, became the owner of this house when his uncle died. He was living in it when he was witched. He just wasted away and could not eat. They had to twist his head around to the side to enable him to swaUow water. He had been a skUled carpenter, but his IN THREE PARTS WITCHES AND LAND OTTER MEN 741 hands were crippled, like claws. When they thought he was dying, they carried him into the Teqwedi's Shark House, and sent to Dry Bay for the Tluk^axAdi shaman, Qutcda. Qutcda came with aU his paraphernaha, and went to Sitka Ned. He tried to cure him but at first could do nothing. He held a seance to determine who was the witch. For this performance, Qutcda wore his long hair hanging down, put on a crown of animal claws and a necklace of bones, painted his face, but went naked except for his apron with its fringe of rattling bones. He imitated his Dog Spirit (ketl qu yek), going around the circle of spectators, barking like a dog. When he came to the witch and his associates he sat up like a dog and barked furiously. He spoke, as if his spirit were speaking through him, indicating the names of the witch and his accomphces, "in shorthand hke, initials in Tlingit." Thus, he named Tanu± (Jim Itinisku), owner of Golden Eagle House, and Sitka Ned's own nephew: "I'm the hunter. I shoot the spear but it doesn't kUl anything. Can you make that out, Itinisku?" Also imphcated was another Teqwedi man, XEIUS, an "uncle" of Sitka Ned, formerly of Bear House who now hved in Coward House; and XEuk's pretty young K'^ackqwan wife, Duc-tla, or 'Pussy Cat's Mother,' nicknamed for her pet cat. In naming the last, Qutcda announced: "I'm the one, I'm a good-looking woman, but I have no respect for myself." He also accused a young K'^ackqwan girl, Ckik, a "sister-cousin" of Duc-tla, who hved in Bear House. Qutcda seems to have held four such seances, but it is not clear whether they were aU held before the witches were named, or whether some were attempts to cure Sitka Ned after the witches had been appre- hended. Perhaps it took several attempts to discover the principal witch and his accomphces. It was Sunday (a week after the first seance), that a group of husky young relatives of the patient went to Golden Eagle House to seize Tanu^. The latter knew they were coming and tried to defend hunself with a sharp knife. But the men threw him down, bloodied his head, and tied his hands behind his back. He was dragged over to Shark House, where Sitka Ned lay iU, and was put in a corner behind a tent rigged up as a screen. Tanu^ at first protested his innocence, then ap- parently implicated his confederates. "Don't just tie me up—I'm not the only one guUty!" He named the two K^'ackqwan women and XEuk. Immediately, the Teqwedi women went to appre- hend the two female accomplices. They were draggmg Duc-tla into Shark House when she suddenly flew right out of their hands, and the women saw only her red blanket disappearing into Coward House. When they caught her again, she laughed and said she had just gone home to take off her gold bracelets so she would not lose them when they tied her up. So the women dragged her by the hair and hands. They were not going to confine her, however, it is said; they just wanted her to confess. [It is not clear whether or not she was tied up.] The other young woman, Ckik, whom Duc-tla had treated as a younger sister, did not try to escape. She confessed that her own people had tried to bewitch her to make her act as a scavenger for Tanu^ in fetching food leavings and other "dirt." She had refused, and so they had beaten her. No one, therefore, thought her guUty, and Qutcda pronounced her innocent. EventuaUy XEuk was released. He had been willing to help Tanu^ and was beheved to have taught his own wife, Duc-tla, how to bewitch people, but he himseK had not done the actual witching. As a test, to prove that he had named the correct person, Qutcda got some water scooped up from the heel part of a footprint and sent it to Tanu±. Although it appeared clean, the thirsting witch rejected it, because his witchcraft spirit told him it was from a footstep. When this was reported to Qutcda, the latter announced that Tanui: must be kept bound, without food or water for 10 days. Then he would confess. Because he had been bewitched 10 times, his spirit was strong, and he must suffer for 10 days. He would not die. Duc-tla was, however, smart because she confessed (immediately?) that she had been bewitched so that she would get bits of clothing, hair, and so on. "Why don't you teU it," she asked Tanui, "we are the ones made Sitka Ned sick?" Tanu:^ was apparently confined, tied up, for "eight or nine days," untU he admitted his guUt. On the fifth day, according to an eyewitness, he seems to have wanted snuff more than anything else, and begged for a httle. It would seem that Qutcda continued his seances, trying to make the witch confess. On the fourth night, the missionaries, the Reverends Johnson and Hendrick- son, came into Shark House to beg for the release of the captive. They cried, prayed, and threatened ulti- mate legal punishment, but the Indians threw them out. Hendrickson came back two or three times, but was shoved out the door. It was felt, even by a witness who was horrified and frightened, to be a purely native affair in which the missionaries had no business to interfere. On their part, the White men refused to listen to the explanations about witchcraft made by their native interpreters. 742 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 FinaUy, the witch confessed. Then the Teqwedi took Tanui, stUl tied up, and XENk and Duc-tla over to the gTaveyard on Khantaak Island. They did not take Ckik because she was not to blame, but XENk had to go with his wife or she would have escaped again. The men escorted Tanu:^, and the Teq^'ca guarded Duc-tla. They aU went over in a big skiff: Reverends Johnson and Hendrickson went with them. The interpreter. Mission Jim, told the missionaries to row, because he was going to prove to them that there was such a thing as witchcraft, and that Tanu^ was a witch and would do something to them. So whUe they rowed, Tanu^ was ordered under pain of death to put them to sleep. Although the mission- aries both feU unconscious (untU the witch was ordered to revive them?), and the skiff drifted a long way before the north wind, so that it was hard work to row to the island, stiU Hendrickson refused to beheve in witchcraft. When the party reached the graveyard on Elhantaak Island—no one hved there then—Tanu:^ pointed out the corpse into which he had stuffed his victim's things (da 'itsetxi). His captors told him to get it aU out and clean it up, that they could kiU him, but did not want to harm him if he would cure Sitka Ned. So Tanui ordered the young men to fetch two big sheets of spruce bark from the trees, one for himself and one for Duc-tla. These were pieces, about 24 by 18 inches, folded in two. And he also ordered them to make a hole in the ice in the pond behind the cemetery. Then, while aU the people crowded close to watch, he went down a tiny hole beside the grave and came up with a sack fuU of bits of clothing, hair, and so forth, all from the people that he had witched and that he had buried beside the dead body. The hole was only 6 inches in diameter! He warned that no one was to touch these httle dolls that he had brought up from the grave in the folded piece of bark. He began to cry and said that he had witched Sitka Ned because the latter had refused to give him a bucket of water. Therefore he had fixed him so he couldn't drink. He showed them the doU he had named Sitka Ned: it had a httle bit of red flannel in the throat, like a swoUen tongue. Then he took off aU his clothes and plunged into the lake with the bark and all his witch's dirt. When he came out of the water he left aU that stuff behind. That was the end of the witchcraft. He was quit of it then. They didn't tie up his wounded head until he promised never to practice witchcraft again. Then Duc-tla vanished down her own hole, and aU the people could see was her red blanket on top of the grave. [Presumably she removed and disposed of the witch's dirt in the same manner as Tanui, although the accounts were not specific] The people made her promise she wouldn't witch any more by threatening to kUl her and to make her suffer as Sitka Ned had suffered. Even though Johnson and Hendrickson saw aU this, they stUl didn't beheve. Then Sitka Ned recovered and hved for years after that, until he drowned in 1926. Because Tanui was such a disgrace to the Teqwedi, his people didn't want him around, so they sent him away to the "West Coast" on the next sealing schooner. The Teqwedi, however, gave him many expensive things. Even Sitka Ned and his family gave him a Chilkat blanket and a button blanket, because Tanu± had cured Sitka Ned. Tanu^ stayed away for years, married a West Coast Indian woman, and learned to talk Chinook Jargon. FinaUy he became lonesome and wanted to come back to Yakutat. The Teqwedi agreed, and Sitka Ned paid his passage. WhUe he was away he had lost his two former wives, but when he returned he married another woman. Tanui was stiU alive in 1916, when he was photo- gTaphed with other Teqwedi guests at a potlatch, including his old uncle and former victim, Sitka Ned [pi. 214/]. He died before 1925. According to some accounts, Tanu^had been jealous of his uncle because the latter was a successful hunter and carpenter, whUe he was not lucky. They were both men of the same class, but Sitka Ned was becoming more wealthy. He had refused to give his nephew a sea otter pelt which the latter had requested. According to another version, a man who lived on the Ankau lagoon where fish was put up, was also suspected of witching Sitka Ned. This was because the man was a worthless person. When the shaman sent men to get him and they caUed to him to come out of his house, he shot himself. He did this because he was a "witchcraft." [The narrator refused to iden- tify this individual, and another informant denied that any such incident was connected with the witching of Sitka Ned.] THE MISSIONARY'S VERSION OF THE WITCHING OF SITKA NED The foUowing account is based upon what the Rev- erend Albm Johnson told Hardy Trefzger, former United States Commissioner at Yakutat. "Benson" is D. S. Benson, the interpreter; "Mr. Henderson" is Hendrickson, the missionary; whUe "EetUishkuh" is the native pronunciation of Itinisku. "The missionaries' hardest job was trying to stamp out the native behef in witchcraft, and often their IN THREE PARTS WITCHES AND LAND OTTER MEN 743 lives were in danger. He [Reverend Johnson] told me of one evenhig when he and Mr. Henderson were walking home from the mUl, they heard the most piti- ful screams coming from the Chaad Hit, the Sahnon House [p. 322]. When they went mside they found EetUishkuh bound hand and foot and lying on the floor. The shaman (witch doctor) was dancing around him with a smoking stick in one hand and the shi- ashuch (rattle) m the other. Old Ned, another native, was lying naked on a featherbed, on his right side a black spot as big as a hat, and he was groaning. When they made the witch doctor stop pokmg Ned with the stick, the witch doctor let out a yelp. At that two natives came at Johnson and Henderson with a bear spear. Ned said something in Thngit and the commotion stopped. Someone had got hold of Benson, who told them to release EetUishkuh or they would send for the gunboat. After looking old Ned over, they decided there was nothing they could do about the black spot but promised to get some medicine for him. "The next morning Benson told Johnson and Henderson that, the morning before, some natives had come early, wakened him, taken him and the witch doctor to the graveyard, dug up a coffin and opened it. Eetihshkuh had taken two rags from the right side of the corpse and gave them to the witch doctor. It seemed that to be able to bewitch Ned, EetUishkuh must have had something that had be- longed to Ned and had planted those two rags on the dead man for that reason. Eetihshkuh was very- jealous of Ned because Ned was the better hunter who always got more sea otters and seals than he." [Trefzger, 1963, p. 29.] The Witching of Gunak'' Qunak^ (1870-1938), was the CAnkuqedi son of Qutcda. When he was a young man, apparently about 1895, he was bewitched by Tanui, or by a relative of the latter. Qtrnak^ and this young Teqwedi man were out hunting and both saw a bear. They chased it, but Qunak'^ was a good runner and shot it before his rival could kUl it. Therefore the latter made him sick. This was what they said when they tied him up. Qunak'^ became nothing but skin and bones, and his heart bothered him. However, after 3 or 4 days, his father, Qutcda, worked on him and he felt aU right. The witch cleaned the doUs he had made out of the grave. [This episode is told as if it were a separate incident that occurred after the witching of Sitka Ned, and as if the same man were guUty. The account may, however. have been misunderstood or the narrator confused. If Tanu^ were guUty of both mtchings, that of Qunak"^ must have been cleared up at the same time as Sitka Ned's, for there there is no corroborative evidence to suggest that he was tried twice and twice undid his speUs. Furthermore, any suspected recidivist would almost certainly have been executed. Probably a different person was involved and the incident was carelessly attributed to Tanui.] Witchcraft Accusations 1. In the early days of the mission, an old K'^ack- qwan man of Moon House was accused of witching the Kagwantan wife of a sibmate. However, the former violently protested his innocence, and whUe the whole town watched and listened, took out a sharp knife and cut his own throat. For some reason, not explained, this precipitated trouble between the Kwackqwan and the Teqwedi. To settle the matter, Situk George, Qayak'^-'ic, was chosen as a peace dancer. That was when he obtained the name White Raven (Yel tied). My informants did not remember the name of his K'^ackqwan opposite (cf. p. 603). 2. In 1919, "Larry," a Kag^vantan man originaUy from Sitka who had married a Yakutat woman, shot and kUled "Ben," also a Kagwantan man from Sitka. This was because Ben was accusing Larry of witching his wife, "Elsie." She was only 16, but Ben was twice as old, which was why, the informant claimed, aU their chUdren died but one. At the time of the accusation, Elsie had just lost one baby and was sick in bed. Her husband suspected Larry because the latter had wanted to marry Elsie. It was jealousy. After her husband was kUled, Elsie died soon. Larry was jaUed for a whUe, but was let off easy "because it's only witchcraft talk." Furthermore, he was supposed to have used "dope" to influence the judge to pass a light sentence. A cross near the road, where the creek runs out half way between Yakutat and the Old ViUage, marked the site of the shooting. [Since witches, by definition, kiU in secret, recourse to violence was a demonstration of innocence.] 3. About 1907, almost aU the members of one famUy were drowned in the Alsek River. They were in two canoes that capsized. The only ones who escaped were the few who had remained on shore. It was sunshine, clear weather, and suddenly there came two waves (from melting snow up the river?), and the two canoes rolled over. Afterwards, the river was again just glassy. People wondered why this had happened. "It's hex'^a 744 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 [magic]," they said. "Somebody wish it." 4. One man was beheved by some to have been kUled by witchcraft, that is, by love medicine im- properly handled by a young girl. She had put some of his hair and clothing with a root [the kind not specified], and this was found by others. NormaUy, when some one has used love magic of this nature, the personal leavings are removed after a time and the root itseK is buried. In this case, however, people puUed the root apart to see what it was, and later the whole httle bundle was burned. This injured the man and finaUy made him die of a fever. He knew from prophetic dreams that he was to die. Since women are not supposed to use love magic, this may be why this was caUed a case of "witchcraft." 5. Other accusations of witchcraft, about which I heard, seem to have been simply angry words, uttered in the heat of a quarrel. LAND OTTER MEN Fear of Land Otters Land otters (kucda), unlike ordinary animals, are reaUy transformed persons. If, in theory, not aU are such Land Otter Men (kucda-qa), yet the natives, even today, are ready to behave towards them as if they were. The land otter is feared more then the brown grizzly. The latter "don't do nothing." He only "fights you," and if you appeal to him for pity, he won't even "bother you." The land otter, however, is lurking to "save," that is, to capture those who drown, who are lost or who wander in the woods, and such unfortunates are are taken by these Land Otter Men to their homes or dens, and unless rescued in time by a shaman are in their turn transformed into land otters (cf. also Swan- ton, 1908, pp. 456-457). Land otters are particularly apt to kidnap chUdren (p. 746). In the last analysis, there seems to be no clear distinction between the in- dwelling spirits or "souls" of land otters, or 'land otter people' (kucda-qwani), and Land Otter Men (kucda-qa) Thngit mythology is fuU of tales about these creatures (Swanton, 1909, Tales 5, 6, 7, 45, 46, 31: pp. 87-88, 142-144; Krause, 1956, p. 197), and everyone, myself included, has had some personal experience of a sudden or startling encounter with a land otter. Tlingit mythology also has many episodes of persons who were captured and married by animals, usuaUy as a punishment because in some way they had insulted these creatures. These stories may, of course, serve to instUl the proper respectful attitude toward animals, but they do not seem to make people fearful of them. The danger of capture by a land otter is something much more terrible, perhaps because of the association of land otters with the occult power of the shaman (p. 678). Nevertheless, it is hard to understand why land otters should be so anxious to kidnap people. The reason that land otters want to take human beings, I was told, was because people have kiUed them, and they wish in this way to obtain new members of their famUies. "The people are kiUing them off, so they want to make people suffer, to make even" (CW). That is why they try to catch anyone whom they find alone. "Land otters want to get even with people for kiUing so many of them to make blankets" (MJ). Yet, it was also said that in the old days the people did not hunt land otters, did not eat their flesh (cf. Swanton, 1909, Tale 18, for the adventures of a Hoonah man who did), nor did the Tlingit use their pelts. The aversion to land otter fur was due, it was said, to the belief that if one had anything of an otter about one's person, this would facUitate capture by the Land Otter Men. This is made clear in the story of QakA (pp. 749-750; cf. Krause, 1956, p. 197; Swanton, 1909, Tale 5). Yet, in another story (Swanton, Tale 26, p. 62), a wealthy man from Yakutat visiting an Awk chief near Juneau, presented his host with "land-otter sMns, martin skins, skins of aU kinds," suggesting that the fear of wearing land otter fur was not as great as my informants had given me to suppose. That human beings and land otters are perpetuaUy opposed to each other is suggested by another story (Swanton, 1909, Tale 31, pp. 142-144). This teUs how four boys from Klawak were captured by land otters when their canoe overturned. In revenge, the people made fires at the dens of the land otters and kiUed all but a few. After the surviving land otters had made war on the people, sending Ulness and injury by means of their poisonous arrows made of spider crab sheUs, peace was finaUy made. A somewhat confused story with a similar theme was told by a Dry Bay woman (pp. 750-751), but not as an explanation of the land otter's enmity, which was taken for granted. IN THREE PARTS WITCHES AND LAND OTTER MEN 745 I was also told that land otters may foUow any canoe that appears to be in distress. One reason why they do this is because they think they may find crabs in the canoe, and "Kucda want the back of crab sheUs for drums." According to Krause's version (1956, pp. 186- 188) of the story of the "Land-Otter Sister" (Swanton, 1909, Tales 6 and 45), this transformed woman told her brother that "nothing had as high a value among the Land Otter people as the sheUs and mandibles of crabs because they make dance rattles of them. That is why the Land Otter people always try to rescue drowned Indians in the hope that they may get crab sheUs and mandibles from them." That crab sheUs are in actuahty found at land otter holes is suggested by a passage from Gavin MaxweU's "Rmg of Bright Water" (1960, p. 154) describmg the burrows of otters in Scotland. "There is a lavatory at every otter holt, and the excrement (which is known as 'spraint,' and has no offensive odor, being composed almost entirely of crunched fish bones, or in the case of shore-hving otters, of fragments of crab carapace) often forms a high pyramidal pUe. . . ." If their own excre- ment has httle odor, this may also explain why land otters are supposed to be so frightened of that of human beings (see p. 747). According to Katishan of WrangeU (Swanton, 1909, Tale 31, p. 86) it was Raven who determined the habits of land otters as he did that of the birds and fish. He told the Land Otter: " 'You wUl always have your house on a point where there is plenty of breeze from either side. Whenever a canoe capsizes with people in it you wiU save them and make them your friends.' The land-otter-man (ku'cta-qa) originated from Raven teUing this to the land otter. All Alaskans know about the land-otter-man but very few teU the story of Raven correctly. "If the friends of those who have been taken away by the land otters get them back, they become shamans, therefore it was through the land otters that shamans were first known. Shamans can see one another by means of the land-otter spirits although others can not." After teUing the story of KAka' (cf. p. 749; KJrause, 1958, p. 197; Swanton, 1909, Tales 5 and 31, pp. 87- 88), Katishan explained: "This story of KAka' is a true story, and it is from him that the Tlingit believe in shamans' spirits (yek)," and also in Land Otter Men. The land otter yek was the most common and powerful spirit acquired by shamans (pp. 678-680). I was also told of a particularly lucky, wealth-bringing amulet that had been made from land otter hair, but this may have been the only one of its kind (cf. p. 667). Land otters were considered to be exceUent halibut fishermen and it was from them that the Kagwantan shaman, GAga'nk, from Grouse Fort in Icy Strait, learned how to make hahbut hooks (cf. 389). Land otters were also beheved to have some connec- tion with the weather, perhaps because drownings, when they made their captures, most often happened during storms. At any rate, it was said that stormy weather, shUting to a cahn sunny day, was the sign that Land Otter Men had been about (see p. 754). In one episode of the Sitka story about "The Alsek River People" (Swanton, 1909, Tale 27, p. 65), land otters send an avalanche into a lake to drown the people who had spoken insultingly about their stuttering. This episode suggests the story of the destruction of the town in Lituya Bay (p. 276). My informants agreed that in the old days no one wore land otter fur, for fear that this would put them in the anunals' power, although otters are now trapped for their pelts which are sold to the Whites. "It's pretty danger to have the kucda [land otter fur]. If you have kucda around you, you're going to get lost. That's the way they always talk." Nor was mink (lukciyan) used in former times. "It is a low class skin.... Even today the Indians never wear mink. They're wicked. Because they are the paddles of kucda." When the land otters travel, the skate (tcitqa) is supposed to be their canoe, and they use hve mink as their paddles (kucda xayi). In one personal account (see p. 754), mink are represented as the chUdren of a drowned woman by her new husband, the chief of the land otters. In another similar narrative (p. 751), mink are the slaves of the land otters. Capture by Land Otters and Protection from Them If someone is drowning and caUs for help, the 'land otter people' (kucda-qwani) are going to save him, it is said. Before he drowns, the kucda-qwani wUl catch him and take him to their place. They appear to him in the guise of his own relatives or friends, and the place to which they take him looks just like his o^^m house. Here they offer him some of their food. But if he eats it, he can never come back to his own home again. He wUl go "crazy" and become a land otter. However, the shaman can "see" him and rescue him. This he does by holding a seance as he would for a sick person. He sings and puts food in the fire, as for the dead. "He put everything—seal oU and seal fat, and every- thing to eat—and putting on the fire." Then the cap- tured person does not want to eat the land otters' food. "That's why 'ixt' put it in the fire, everything. . . . That's why he don't feel like to eat [presumably be- cause, like the ghost, he eats the food in the fire]. . . . 746 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 If he eat kucda food, he's going to be kucda" (CW). According to Swanton (1908, p. 364, n. a), the fire serves as "a medium of communication between the two worlds;" that of ordinary men and that of super- natural beings. The shaman must act fast, before the lost human being has become irrevocably committed to the other world. Many persons are believed lost to these creatures, for Harrington reported (1939-40) that about one fisher- man a season drowns at Yakutat. The natives beheve that they are rescued and captured by "khwalayel- khwaanu" (q^alayel-qwani) that hve in the woods. This expression, which was not one that we recorded, refers to the land otters as 'inhabitants of the point'(?). Land otters wiU also try to take someone they find alone in the woods, to whom they appear like his own parents or close relatives, attempting to lure him away by imitating their human voices. Such a person feels numb and dizzy, and may faU unconscious (see pp. 751-753). It is obviously the person lost in the woods, rather than the one who has faUen into the stormy water, who has the best chance of rescue, either by the actions of the shaman or by the defensive precautions which he may take himself. Harrington was also told about creatures, apparently some kind of animal or fish, that hve in the ocean, never in lakes and rivers, and are therefore called 'in- habitants of the ocean deep' or "khuyyii khw^anni" (quyi qwani). Since they "save" drowning persons by transforming them, I suspect that they are simply Land Otter Men under another name. One sure protection against land otters is to carry something made of metal—money, a ring, a knife, a gun, any kind of metal tool, even a nail. If you have money in your pocket or a ring on your finger, you should put it in yoiir mouth, I was told, because the Land Otter Man is afraid of it, and wiU be forced to "show himself" in his animal form, so that you are no longer in danger of being deceived by him. "You go picking berries, you see something like a man or a woman. He don't look like a native [i.e.. White ethnologists would see a White person?]. Just put any kind of money or ring [in your mouth]—he's going to show himself hke kucda. He want to take you; he make you crazy. [But] you put this in your mouth—you don't make [become] crazy. The kucda, she's scared that iron, that money, too." (CW) "Land Otter Men (kucda-qa) turn you crazy, turn you crazy into their own kind . . . but not if you have a sUver ring. You can put it in your mouth. Then you can talk straight. It protects you." (MJ) Or, to hold an ax or saw in the hand is also a protec- tion. "Lita [knife]—you're going to hold it good," re- ported another. In our version of the story of QakA, the cuts made by iron naUs (not by dog bones, as in the corresponding version in Swanton, 1909, Tale 46) are used to cure a man whom the land otters had taken. "If he gets hurt by anything iron, he comes to hunself. If you got iron," our narrator added, "you never go unconscious" when you encounter a land otter (MJ). Swanton (1908, p. 456) also explained that the Land Otter Men eat evU-smeUing things (cAk^) on the beaches and therefore when they breathe on someone their foul breath makes the person faint. However, "if one put native tobacco, iron, or lead into his mouth it counteracted the influence." This use of tobacco was not mentioned at Yakutat. The Tlingit of southeastern Alaska seem to have used an infusion of heUebore roots (iikc) to counteract the loss of consciousness or reason induced by the Land Otter Men, as is indicated in the story of the war with the land otters (Swanton, 1908, p. 143), and in the story of a woman who married a land otter (Swanton, 1909, Tale 45). It probably also figured in the treatment of a hysterical girl, recounted by Krause (1956, p. 188). The girl had encountered Land Otter Men in the woods and returned "hah crazed and raging, she attacked everyone, struck and bit those who tried to hold her, and tearing off her own clothes, ran around naked. She even threw a stone at the shaman who tried to cure her by dancing before her with a drum and rattle." She was finaUy cured when what I interpret as crushed heUebore roots in water were rubbed into four cuts in her scalp. The description of the girl's frenzy corresponds with what Yakutat informants had to say about the behavior of persons who had been captured by land otters, although they did not mention the prophylactic use of heUebore. In introducing this account, Krause states (ibid.) that: "All Tlingit girls are afraid to go in the woods alone for fear that the Land Otter people wUl seize them." Since Land Otter Men are known to be able to induce girls to have sexual relations with them (see pp. 750- 751), it may be that this was what had happened to the girl described by Krause, or at least that this was what Tlingit girls feared might happen. Dogs are a real protection against land otters, for not only are the animals afraid of them, but their barking wiU force the Land Otter Men to reveal them- selves. "That's how you know they are kucda-qa. They look like human beings, but they are reaUy kucda-qa, and a dog isn't fooled." At least two Yakutat men were saved by dogs from Land Otter Men. SmaU chUdren are considered to be in the most danger of being kidnapped by Land Otter Men, and are constantly warned not to wander off from berrying parties or to venture alone away from the settlement or camp (pp. 508, 509). ChUdren were also supposed to keep close to the house, even when they went out IN THREE PARTS WITCHES AND LAND OTTER MEN 747 to urinate. "My mother told us, 'Don't go too far m the dark, in the night time!' " (MJ) Young parents were also warned by their elders to keep close watch over their smaU chUdren: "Sitka Jack, my mother's uncle, told my mother and aunt in Sitka. He told my mother: 'Don't let the kids go to the lakes by themselves, or go to washroom [urinate, defecate] themselves, alongside the lakes. That's where they [land otters] get them easy.' " (MJ) ChUdren are cautioned that Land Otter Men may appear to them in the form of then own parents: "We were taught by my mother. If you meet anybody looks hke your mother or your dad, get hold of their hand and bite. ... If they were kucda-qa, their skin move hke that [quivers], like hve fish. They would turn into kucda then. They don't take you away." If anyone comes to save you, "bite the skin. If it's a human being you can teU. Kucda skin wiggles." (MJ) ChUdren should be cautious of accepting food from such Land Otter Men. "If they start to eat the grub, it's the end! That's why my mother teUs me, 'Don't accept food from anybody you meet!' " (MJ) ChUdren were also taught to carry a metal object for protection, and because a crying chUd was especiaUy likely to attract the Land Otter Men, chUdren were cautioned to be quiet, or the kucda-qa would get them (MJ; cf. Swanton, 1909, Tale 11). The chUd, however, who was fooled by the Land Otter Men would wUlingly accompany his unnatural captors, thinking they were his parents come to take him home. Instead, they would drag him through swamps and mud, through streams and lakes, and under the roots of trees to their den, 'the land otters' home' (kucda 'ani). This would appear to the chUd like his own house. According to one account of such an ex- perience, at night the monsters would resume their animal forms, and the home appear like their hole. If chUdren are missing, the immediate suspicion is that the Land Otter Men have stolen them. In former times, in addition to organizing a search party, prefer- ably accompanied by dogs to foUow the scent and also to frighten away the kucda-qa, worried parents would consult a shaman. He would send his spirit to locate the chUd and to guide the searchers, and also to drive away the chUd's captors. This last might be accom- plished if the shaman caused the chUd to defecate, for the unpleasant smeU was supposed to frighten the land otters. In teUing how Gutcda rescued two little boys who were lost at Akwe, the narrator explained (cf. also pp. 751-752): "The dogs found the first one 4 days later. The boys did something in their pants. They found the other boy a week later. The doctor made them do some- thing in their pants. That dirt in their pants had a bad smeU that made the kucda throw him away." (EE) Tek-'ic also rescued his little cousui by the same means (see pp. 752-753). There is, in fact, some evidence to suggest that chU- dren may even have been mstructed to dnty themselves or to urinate if they encountered a land otter: "You're gomg to teU her to go to toUet, and he's [land otter is] scared, too. He don't want to smeU it. That's what he do, that boy m Dry Bay [cf. p. 752]. He do it inside [the den], that's why. That's what my dad told us a long tune ago. That's why they don't want us to go looking for strawberries in Dry Bay. Take the gun [for u-on]." (JW) When anyone, adult or chUd, has been rescued from land otters, it is necessary to remove the contamina- tion—"aU that funny stuff of kucda" (MJ)—from his body. This restores him to his senses and also serves to protect him from further capture. As an additional precaution, the shaman or another person wiU cut the palms of his hands and rub urine into the cuts. Urine is also put into any scratches which the land otters may have made or which he may have received whUe being dragged to their den. Swanton also reports (1908, p. 456): "To restore a land-otter man to his senses live coals were thrown upon him, and after he fainted slits were made with a knife on the palms of his hands and the soles of his feet, into which urine was rubbed." Land Otter JMen Because those who die of drowming or from exposure when lost become Land Otter Men, one of my inform- ants referred to the latter as "the ghosts, kucda-qa," and another caUed the land otter spirits "their spirits after they're dead" or revenants (hAsdu yuk'^qah^yagu; cf. pp. 765-766). For such dead persons, potlatches are given, and at memorial feasts food is put into the water for them, not into the fire, as for the ordinary dead (pp. 536, 547). Yet in another sense, such persons do not die but are beheved to continue their existence on this earth, not in the afterworlds to which go the souls of those who have died ordinary deaths or deaths by violence. We know something about the Land Otters' World (kucda 'ani) from those who have visited it and returned; it is essentiaUy a den in the woods or on a point of land. Those who go to the home of the land otters' spirits wiU perceive it to be, as already indicated, like an or- dinary house, perhaps their own home, and the inhabit- ants as ordinary human beings. Here marriages take place and chUdren are born. Ties of kinship may be recognized between land otters or Land Otter Men and 748 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 human beings. Among the Land Otter Men there are also chiefs or rich men and slaves. Peace ceremonies to conclude wars between land otters and human beings are possible (Swanton, 1909, Tale 31, pp. 142-144), and both sides can also potlatch to each other (see p. 751). There are inconsistencies in the accounts as to whether or not Land Otter Men can be kUled. Transformation into aland otter does not apparently take place immediately for those who have been cap- tured. Thus, QakA's aunt (p. 749), who had lived for a long time among the land otters, was aU covered with fur except for her face, whUe QakA, who had been captured much more recently, did not have much hair on his body. His stUl human hands and feet were bruised, and his mouth torn from the land otters' diet of codfish bones (cf. also Swanton, 1909, Tale 6). This partial transformation from fully human to animal form is portrayed in shaman's masks that symbolize the spirit of a drowned man as a Land Otter Man with human countenance but heavy mustache and beard of bear fur around the protruding lips. WhUe Land Otter Men in general are considered to be inimical to human beings, yet we should note that individual ones help their own relatives. Thus, QakA's aunt helped the latter to escape and return home (Swanton, 1909, Tale 31, p. 87; Tale 46), in much the same way that relatives in the Land of the Dead have been known to assist kinsmen to return to the hving. Furthermore, drowned persons may visit their human relatives and bring them good fortune. In Swanton's myths these are a land otter sister (1909, Tales 6 and 45), and a land otter son (Tale 7). An informant was given good fortune by her dead mother and father, who appeared to her in dreams (pp. 754, 759). Another informant whose son had drowned was said to have seen his ghost in human form. However, the Angoon Tlingit told me that the recently drowned might return to visit their viUage in the form of land otters, and cited an instance which occurred whUe a potlatch was being held. Probably the same belief was held at Yakutat. Some persons who are captured by land otters and who return thereby acquire supernatural powers and become shamans. When trying to capture human beings, the Land Otter Men may assume any disguise. These may in- volve, as we have seen, the shapes, features, and voices of living persons, the close relatives of the intended victim. Since White persons are said to have been deceived in this fashion. Land Otter Men are pre- sumed capable of speaking English. On other occasions they seem only to utter animal cries. "When the land otters talk we hear only whistles" (MJ). In the last analysis, it would seem that the trans- formed Land Otter Man (kucda-qa), the "ghost" or revenant of the drowned person (ytjk'^qaheyagu), the "soul" of the land otter (kucda-qwani), and the sha- man's land otter spnit (kucda yek, or kucda qu yek), were aU actuaUy or potentiaUy one and the same entity, that which one ordinarUy encounters m its animal form or fleshly "clothing" as a land otter (kucda). Present Beliefs About Land Otters Despite the persistence of traditional beliefs and fears about land otters, they and their evU associates, mink, are shot or trapped for theu- furs. Thus, one woman who had been teUing terrifyuag stories about Land Otter Men, went on to complain how a young man had borrowed her shotgun, promising to give her a share of his game. "He shot two land otters and two minks. He kUled the she one and the he stays by it. He comes up the same hole and looks for his wife. There were two minks in that old log there. He used my gun but I never got a smeU of it." (MJ) When Swanton (1908, p. 457) was with the Tluigit in 1904, he found that "As among the Haida, belief in these beings [Land Otter Men] is deeply rooted, and persons are easUy deceived by practical jokers who imitate the sounds and actions attributed to land-otter men." This would also seem to be the case some 40 years later, as is suggested by the adventures of a boy from Yakutat who was attending school in Sitka during World War II. There was a blackout and the boys had to be on watch at night against a possible Japanese attack. One night when the Yakutat youth was on guard duty, he heard something way back in the woods whistling at him. When he reported this to his superior, and the latter told him that he was "just hearing things," the boy thought that someone had been whistling to tease him. However, the episode admitted of a more sinister interpretation, since, later than night, at four in the morning, the youth heard a noise in the boUer room; the steam pressure was too high. He investigated and found the janitor dead of heart faUure. He phoned for help and when others came, the whistling was gone. "It was somebody warning him." "People stUl believe that land otters take drowned people and can appear in human form," an informant said. AU of our friends were able to teU of personal encounters with Land Otter Men that involved a near relative, a parent, an uncle, a husband, a brother, a sister, a son, or a nephew. Some of these adventures had occurred to persons long since dead, others to those who were stiU living. A number of these stories were IN THREE PARTS WITCHES AND LAND OTTER MEN 749 told to iUustrate the powers of shamans; others were prompted by seeing land otters or their signs near the town, by hearing about our own encounters with otters (at Basket Bay near Angoon in 1949; on the ocean beach near the Ankau lagoons in 1952), or by the news that a chUd was lost and people were hunting for it (September 1952). Once the conversation had turned to the subject, one tale or experience was hkely to prompt recital of another. The first mention of land otters W£LS made by MJ on the evening of July 4, 1949, when I visited her in her house. There was a queer tap- ping noise outside. Although she said this was only the radio wire beating in the wind against the waU, I sug- gested that it sounded hke ghosts. "Kucda, maybe," she rephed, and began to teU the story of how her father's httle brother had been stolen (pp. 752-753). After an evening of such talk, or when land otters had been reported in the bay or in a pond close behind the viUage, some elderly women preferred not to walk home in the dark unescorted. Yet perhaps their attitude was best expressed by the foUo^ving answer given by one such timid woman to another who had asked if it were reaUy true that land otters could turn into human beings: "Yes, certainly. They say so." Then after reflection, "If you don't believe it. it won't happen!" STORIES ABOUT LAND OTTER MEN The Story of Qakl [The foUowing version of the story of KAka' (see KJrause, 1956, p. 197, and Swanton, 1909, Tale 5, and Tale 31, pp. 87-88) was told by MJ, August 24, 1952. It has been slightly edited to bring some explanatory remarks into proper context. The story was told to iUustrate the activities of land otters and Land Otter Men.] There was a woman who put land otter taU sinew in her husband's ear. His name was Qa,kX, 'Man on Top.' ... I hear people talk about it. I read about the rock in the "Sportsman Magazine." It happened lately in Sitka. . . . That lady is crooked. She wants to get rid of her husband. . . . That woman wants to get rid of him so she can have a youn^ husband. He's not so old but she's tired of him. . . , The woman went to work. She is jealous because her husband is going around with another woman. She got the cord from a kucda [land otter] taU. By foohng around like man and wife, his head was on her lap. She put it in his ear [in the hole for an ear ornament?]. So the kucda took him away, captured him. After they find it out, they have a feast over him [i.e., his relatives gave a potlatch for him]. He was rich man's nephew. He disappeared for months. They got a search warrant. Parties is sending aU over [looking for him]. FinaUy he find himself. They go under tree roots, way deep. Three rock points under there. He thought they were the roots of trees, [but] they go under the points. [That is, the land otters dragged him under three rocky points near Sitka.] They took him way, way out. FinaUy he knows it isn't his home. But everything looks hke his home. His father's servant [a Land Otter Man in disguise] came and got him and take him "home." He's with kucda because he got that kucda taU sinew in his ear. He thought their burrow was his own home. One afternoon aU the kucda went out hunting, and the old lady in the corner whisper to him, "Come here. I'm going to teU you something. You're my nephew. I got captured years ago." Her hands look terrible. She's hairy aU over but her face. "I'm going to put you wise to it, to what happen." He [she] took that thread from his ear and he came to. He's married to a young girl, too [a young Land Otter Woman]. He sober up. He get uneasy, cranky, get so mean. He wants to go home. Anything they try to feed him—it looks hke they try to feed him with good food—but it's only codfish head and bones to pick at. His mouth is aU disfigured, fiUed with codfish bones. He always hides his face behind his hands. [The narra- tor held one hand above the other to cover her face.] His mouth is disfigured [gesture of puUing out the hps] from eating codfish bones and from eating that raw stuff kucda eats. And he gets uneasy and knows they caught him. And finaUy he teUs his [Land Otter] wife: "You tell your people to return me, or I'U kUl aU of them!" But he can't. He's got no feeling in his body as soon as he lifts his arms. The head of kucda gets aU his wife's brothers. His wife's brothers get their canoe together. He [Q^kA] 750 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 gets an order not to look up. He's got his face covered up not to see what kucda are doing. He's in the canoe, and his wife's brothers are paddling. Before the day- light they travel with him. So he knows. They sleep in the daytime, just travel in the nighttime. 'At skAUE! ['Horrors!'] They travel and build fire and camp hke. Lunch is nothing but codfish bones. WeU, he knows that he was near to his home, Sitka. . . . They claim he belongs to 'ixt's nephew [was a shaman's nephew]. 'Ixt' goes in search of him. Sent his spirit to get him back. But the people all give up. They think he's in the woods or drowned. But every time the spirit teUs him [the shaman] that he's alive [i.e., the lost man]. But being he's so close a relation, he don't beheve his spirit any more. So he gives up. One morning they [the Land Otter brothers-in-law] overslept. Old Raven crow before they reached the water and that canoe turned into a skate. The four men that's delivering him home ran to the lakes in aU directions—^ka! ka! [or qax! qax!]—No more wife and no more brother-in-law! When he comes to town, he don't want to show himself. He's just taking things [to eat]. People hear him, but he don't want to notify them. He either get kUled or show his face. [Presumably this means that he would starve to death unless he finaUy revealed himself. In answer to a query:] They got no way to kiU him. He just shows himself and everybody goes to sleep. The minute they see his shadow, everybody gets knocked out. He gets so tired of it. They try to capture him and give him back to the famUy. He fool around with their clotheslines in the dark— back and forth [evidently the kind on puUeys]. They can't kUl him, because they're pretty sure he's turned into kucda. They watch the clotheslines in the moonlight. Sure enough, every night when the people go to bed and sleep, sure enough, he runs it back and forth with his hands on the clothesline. FinaUy they get naUs sharpened on both sides [ends]. They just go to work to try to fool him. If he gets hurt by anything iron, he comes to himself. If you got iron on you [when you encounter a land otter], you never go unconscious. They got sharp things on that clothesline so his hands got cut. First thing they know he got caught. He fell down. They packed him home on a stretcher. His uncle's spirit is making him come to. Hismother's famUy is trying to feed him with their own food. No, he won't eat. They got a tray (q^la) of fish, but he just goes hke that: he lifts it up and turns it back [over]—"Xa!" He push it away and hide his face. He sits by the fire, though. And he never eats. Just hide his face. That's why [how] that lady make that man suffer. His body's covered up with fur a httle, not much, but his hands and feet is terrible. He's bruised from crawhng on the sharp rocks without shoes. Funny, it takes him a long, long time before he gets used to his own food. They get Indian doctors from aU du-ections. They get precious food and put it on trays, and he just hft them up and say "Xa!" And his hps is just fuU of bones and aU swelled up from eating codfish bones. This was before the Russians came to Sitka. They name the rock at Sitka after that woman that done that trick. That's the name for the rock in the "Sports- man." They ground the woman's face on it. Sitka Jack [Katsex], my mother's uncle, told my mother and aunt in Sitka. He told my mother: "Don't let the kids go to the lakes by themselves, or go to washroom themselves long side the lakes. That's where they [kucda] get them easy." The Girls who had Land Otter IVlen as Lovers [Told by EE Jime 22, 1952. The origmal narrative has been shghtly edited. It resembles rather closely part of the story of "The Alsek River People" recorded by Swanton in Sitka (1909, Tale 27, pp. 64-65).] My grandfather was a boy when it happened. It was in DiyayE [or Diydyi, on the east side of Dry Bay]. Two people got boy friend with dead Kucda-qa. Two girls, wetedi [adolescents], stayed in the room for one year: just go around when it's bad weather. Some holes in the tree are kucda holes. The girls sit on it. They hear some songs down there. "Go down with us. You're going to marry us," they say by accident [in fun?]. The people hear it aU over, those kucda. "Pi! pi!" [imitating the land otter's whistle]. The guis in the room were laughing. The kucda were playing with them. . . . My grandfather played with the kucda. [Does the informant refer to Qutcda, her grandfather's brother; or was her grsbudmother one of the girls?] No one can see them. They hear them and feel them and talk to them, but they can't see them. The kucda spirit go to those two girls. They called out "Ouch! Ouch! Don't kUl us!" when the girls grabbed their hands. [Or are the girls pleading with their unnatural lovers?] . . . The doctor fasted. The fast is caUed 'akaqana- hin [referring to not 'drinking' yA-na, 'water' hin?]. They take the bark off the devUclubs. [It is not clear whether the shaman swaUowed an infusion of the bark.] The doctor give the devilclub to the kucda [apparently reaching it around the corner of the house or room]. IN THREE PARTS WITCHES AND LAND OTTER MEN 751 " 'Aqut—we don't hke it!" So they went away. The girls were unconscious. We were going to kUl the slave [for the Land Otter People, is imphed]. The fathers and uncles of the girls made a pUe of blankets and stand the wetedi on it. So they kUl the slave. The next day they see two lukciyan [mink] outside. They kiUed them. These were their slaves [sacrificed in a return potlatch by the Land Otter People]. The kucda said: "Don't fight with us. We're going to do something for you. AU you people going to go in the mud [i.e., a threat if they fought]. Now we're ready to fight." The kucda tried to drown the man up to his hips in the mud. The 'ixt [shaman] said "Go to the kucda holes—• kucda 'anikA ['on top of the land otters' viUage']—to make a fire on it." The kucda said, "Don't! We're going to die off." But they made the fire and by this time the 'anguk- ci [?] burned down. They take pitch from the trees with a smaU hammer. Put it together and make a fire on top [on the land otter holes]. Since then, no more. We don't see kucda there tiU this time. Two Little Boys Rescued from the Land Otter People [A short account was first told by EE on June 22,1952 (see p. 747) and a longer version on March 7, 1954.] My uncles, my mother's brothers, two of them got lost. Kucda-qa got them, those two boys, in Akwe. My mother used to hve in Akwe [with her] seven sisters, their mother and father, and those two boys. . . . Their mother goes picking strawberries, and they [the two little boys] go after her. . . . They got lots of berries. They eat lots of strawberries when they go on the Akwe. Just a httle ways, you know, they go. They meet kucda-qa. . . . After a whUe they meet their "mother" and their "sisters" [i.e.. Land Otter Men in these disguises]. "What's the matter with you? Why don't you stay home with your father? Kucda-qa gonna get you!"— But it's kucda-qa take them! [The narrator explained that the Land Otter Men always look hke the chUdren's own parents, and that in this case they went so far in their deception as to warn the boys that the Land Otter Men would steal them.] . . . Then they take them. . . . That's why they [the little boys] walked with them. . . . Four days they go around under the water and the trees. . . . ... As soon as she got home, she [their mother] asked my grandfather—^he's bhnd, you know, just stay in the house. She asked her husband, my grandfather, "Where's the boys?" "I don't know. They just play around in this house." "They go long time ago?" They looking aU over. Look long time. They don't find them. . . . Two of my father's [maternal] uncles were 'ixt' [shamans]. . . . My grandmother and (?) went to my father's uncle, Gutcda. He used to be a strong Indian doctor. He say, "Kucda-qa have those boys." So my grandma gave him something to catch them. "I got it," he says. "I got it." [He had found one of the boys.] But not that other one. He's far from the house. The yoimgest one, they're going to find him right away. "Take a dog. Go look for him. They got him in a hole, a hole under a tree." They look for him, aU those people. About 3 days, I guess—^I forgot that—the youngest, they found him. He's got those pants, you know, right down here [faUen down around his legs]. He make something in his pants. That's why the kucda-qa leave him. The Indian doctor do it hke that. That's how he save him. AU over, you know, spiders and everything. (?) and mud aU over. That Indian doctor made him to come to ahve again. The other one, 7 days, one week, he goes around. "The hardest, that one," he says. "I'm going to try." Looking aU over. Then somebody goes over there. She hears in that flowers, kantAq'' [lupin or bear root]—"mm-nun-mm"—funny. [The narrator made a low moaning sound.] In that, sounds funny, you know. Those two women, they just look at it. After whUe a she hears it again. They give up already, you know, that boy. The httle boy unconscious and rolling around. That's the sound they heard. Then she goes over there. That httle boy over there. Nothing on him, just his pants is down, that shirt off. AU over mud and everything. [He had also defecated and dirtied himself.] Is just aU over like that. She put cloth around him. My grandmother don't beheve it. That boy—^just white. That Indian doctor makes him to ahve again. He looks different, too. He sure look diSferent, that boy. Qutcda make ahve that little thing. "I don't beheve it," I teU my mother. "Seven days he don't eat. Seven days he's going to starve to death." Sometimes I told my mother, "Maybe you just told a he." They don't understand it. It's just that Indian doctor. That's why he don't die, that boy. 752 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 They got two of them. That Indian doctor take them back. They grow up. That Indian doctor takes care of them. He take away aU that thing, kucda-qa spirit around them. That's why they [were] unconscious like that. That Indian doctor takes it away. [It was some- thing slimy?] That's why they're coming to ahve again. A Boy Rescued from Land Otters [Told by JW, AprU 5, 1954. The narrator's father was Lituya Bay George (1854-1926), %&tkA'&yi sib. Possibly this story refers to the same incident as the preceeding.] My father's uncle—my mother's father's uncle il^afkA'ayi tribe—same thing in Dry Bay long time ago. He went down after strawberries, his mother and his father, too. My dad told me. He just want to go down looking for his mother, and he stayed. Long ways, and he find strawberries. He's a little boy, about ten or fourteen years—I don't know how old he is. And nighttime—pretty dark. And he see his mother and his father. "What's the matter you want to come here for?" [they asked him]. "I looking for you" [he said]. It's kucda-qwani [land otter spirits] dressed like his mother! She takes him to his house—kucda house! That time, Gutcda, he ahve yet. And he takes the same house to look like his mother's house and his famUy. Just like his famUy. [The land otter spirits] look just hke his famUy. That time he dies. That 'ixt put everything on the fire—seal oU and seal fat and bear fat—everything. AU night. Dry fish— everything. AU night he's singing. 'Ixt' says it's to save him. AU night he's singing. In the morning he look for him. Everybody looking for him, and he don't save. All day looking for him. And he eats lots of strawberries, too, that boy. And he's sleeping this side his mother, and this side his daddy [i.e., between the land otters disguised as his parents]. Nighttime, everybody sleeping, just hke his own house. And he wake up. He want to go to pee outside, and he move this way [put out his hand]. And he feel hke kucda feathers [land otter fur]. And he feel his "mother"—same thing. And he's scared. . . . He see good that kucda. That's why he's scared. He cry. . . . Morning, he don't know what he's going to do. And every morning, same thing, his family. [In the day time the Land Otter People reappeared as his famUy.] He [they] get up, everybody. They made a fire. He [the boy] try to get out. He can't. And he see every- thing, nighttime—kucda. And he get up. He want to ... we told it. [The informant was embarrassed.] That's why he go to toUet inside. And he's scared, and he's stinking. Kucda scared. That's why kucda running. He sees it, that kucda home [as the otter's den]. He tried to get out, he tie it like that. Stuck. He want to go out, see? [The boy was stuck by his waist in the land otter's hole.] Kucda—^he's scared. He doing it inside. [The boy was forced to urinate inside the hole.] Just one hole—he stuck. . . . But kucda, he's scared. He pee in that kucda house. . . . [FinaUy his famUy found him.] He don't know what he's going to do. He just grab his own sister. She found him. Everybody looking for him. 'Ixt try to save him. 'Ixt save his hfe. AU day they looking for him. They took him home to tie him up. Don't know what he's going to do. Just like he's crazy. He running for his own sister find him that famUy. 'Ixt' save him for him. [This seems to mean that they had to tie up the boy, who was crazy, and who was trying to run from his sister back to the land otters, not realizing that he was home safe, but thinking he stiU had to find his famUy.] The 'ix^ had to watch him. Just man—^no woman [was aUowed to be present during the cure.] Nexintek' Rescued from Land Otters [The foUowing account is compUed from versions told by MJ on July 4, 1949, August 24, 1952, Sep- tember 4, 1952, and AprU 22, 1954.] My father's oldest brother get captured by land otters out at Situk. He's about 4 years old. My mother told us, "Don't go too far in the dark, in the nighttime." . . . His name is Nexintek ['Little Green Paint Stone'], [and] SAq'^antia-'ic. I think his mother was cousin to my father. He hved in the house at Situk with his mother and father. . . . When he was about that big [3 feet taU], he went out and roam around, you know with the canoe, and he keep on going so far away from Situk. And he didn't come back. . . , In Situk there's a gravel spit, and ponds right close to the shore. He's fishing with a httle fishhook and getting sockeye and sUver salmon fry, httle bits of fish, till late. AU at once he gets disappeared. . . . IN THREE PARTS WITCHES AND LAND OTTER MEN 753 He was playing on the gravel bar at Situk. The land otters stole him. . . . He disappeared pretty soon there, and no one knows where he is. . . . They hunt him. They been hunting him with that pitch [wood] off the tree—just hke a lantern. They went through the woods, looking for him. . . . The whole vUlage hunt for him, guuEtkAnayi and his own people. . . . And they got a doctor, my father's brother. He's witch doctor, Tek-'ic. He's the one followed his foot tracks and made the kucda-qa give him up. Poor httle feUow, he's aU undressed, his clothes aU torn. . . . My uncle's spirit foUowed the tracks of that httle boy. . . . In just a few hours time the kucda-qa got him way up the Situk—^halfways up at Goxotla'ak, "Deep Water." . . . He was found 2 days later, caught between the roots of a tree. When he came to, it was dark, pouring dowm rain, and he had no clothes on or anything. . . . That Indian doctor's spirit caught him. He go under the trees. The kucda-qa drag him through the roots. They let him drop right between them. He pooped aU over himseK and they don't want to handle him. . . . That httle boy, they let him go between the roots of a big tree, stripped naked, aU soaking wet. My uncle's spirit got hold of him, brought him back. They sent a search party for him, and they aU hear him crying, way up, pretty near the head of Situk. See how far that confounded things dragged the httle one? The Indian doctor just get hold of him. They have to cut through aU the roots in order to get him out. If the Indian doctor don't get ahold of him, he would have died. The kucda-qa would have captured him for good. . . . The Teqwedi carved a big tree with his own face there where they found him. . . . They brought him back. He had no food. He's just gone 2 or 3 days. . . . [The narrator explained that if he had eaten land otter food, rescue would have been impossible, and repeated her mother's warnings, see p. 747.] The kucda-qa looks like his mother. It looks so natural. His mother went down to the gravel pond to pack him home, is what it looks like to him. And they took all the clothes off him. He's just in his bare skin, and aU soaked. And they must have dragged him through ponds and lakes. He thinks he's walking, I think. Look what they did to my oldest brother! They made him think that's my mother, father, and uncle who came to him. [See the story of Ldaxin and the Land Otters, below.] Ldaxin and the Land Otters [This story is compUed from accmmts told by MJ on June 9, 1952 and July 6, 1952. For another version, see "How Tek-'ic sent his spirit to find his brother's son" (p. 716), told May 20, 1954. The incident occurred before 1888.] My oldest brother, Ldaxin, went to [Point] Latouche, seal himting. [On his way back, he was delayed by storms and had to camp on Knight Island.] The kucda- qa, kucda-qwani nearly got him. He sleep under his canoe at Knight Island. He would hear my mother and father coming up from the beach. "My son, my son, we worry so much about you. We worry so much about you." Every night. [The narrator imitated their whistling, whispering voices.] Sometimes those kucda-qa, they woiUd pat on his canoe. They were imitating my father and mother. He just lay quiet. He can't shoot. When he gets his gun, his hands get numb and he gets dizzy. He could hear them patting their hands on the canoe. He was strong- minded, but he couldn't puU the trigger. FinaUy he wait untU they pat the canoe, and got close enough. He put the canoe right side up [turned it over], and look around. He gets mad, mad at himself and at his imagination. Every time he tries to sleep, they come around. He gets so mad. The man in the story [Qakex'^tE, cf. pp. 271, 272] imagines he sees the men coining toward him, but they disappear. It's the same thing. My brother don't beheve it. He don't pay attention when they teU him [about Land Otter Men]. But he sees it. But it's proved. If it wasn't for my uncle's spirit [GrAgan-yAtxi of Tek-'ic] he would go with my "father" and "mother." The spirit was protecting him. . . . My father's brother could send his spirit a long ways. He had his hair down to his heels. . . . They asked my uncle to find out where he [Ldaxin] was. He sent aU of the women out of the house. I stayed behind and peeked at him. He let his hair down. I was afraid to scream. His hair was ahve and walking around. Charley saw it, too. [Confirmed by CW, who was hstening to the story.] His spirit said: "My master's son is not in danger. He is sleeping under his canoe. He has lots of grub. He has his canoe half loaded down with seals and bears." The ghosts, kucda-qa, packed his canoe down to the beach. They acted like his mother and father. But my uncle's spirit drove away the kucda-qa. He was too numb to shoot his gun. The spirit said: "He'U be home pretty soon now." 754 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 He had more than he could pack [i.e., his smaU canoe was overloaded with bears and seals.] So much uncle went up from Khantaak and helped him back. We were living at Khantaak then. . . . Lxagusa [the shaman, Tek-'ic] appoint someone to go get him. They took my father's big famUy canoe. He [Ldaxin] nearly takes a shot at them when they came [thinking they were again the Land Otter Men]. [The narrator went on to explain how one should bite the skin as a test, and that a sUver ring held in the mouth would be protection.] My brother, when he comes back, he don't believe in that or in my uncle's spirit. He's a big taU man, and bashful—^just says, "Sh—, Sh—, You believe in that?" When he come back, my uncle caU a meeting. He feel everything on my brother's body. He rub all that funny stuff of kucda away from my brother's body. There was just him and my brother in the house, the evening my brother come back. And Skin Canoe George [the shaman's assistant]. He has to be there all the time [when Tek-'ic was doctoring]. He answers the spirit. He cut just as many tongues as my uncle. He was there that night. AU the Teqwedi were in there. . . . My uncles had already paid the doctor before that. The next day is fine. They got so many seals. I watch them cutting them up and preserving the meat and oU. The Drowned Woman [CompUed from accounts by the same informant on June 22, 1952, and AprU 27, 1954.] I lost my mother and father in 1907 when I was 11 years old, in Qunaxo [Dry Bay]. . . . [They, together with others, were drowned when two canoes capsized; see p. 743.] I always dream of my father's people when I'm going to be lucky. . . . My mother is among the kucda-qa. One time, Lituya Bay George, Qestin, comes in from trapping. He is Jenny White's father, Xat'kA'ayi tribe, and is just like my grandfather's nephew, my grand- father's younger brother (Tluk^axAdi sib]. He was trapping for mink and fox and kucda. He put up a stick. They always got a stick hke this: [a stake to hold the chain of the commercial steel trap, qata cukA t^Akayi]. And he saw two footsteps on either side of it, and there were garters on that stick. . . . When he comes home, he ask me. "Take off your shoes, CawAt-iu^. I want to see your feet." Then his wife says, "What's the matter Avith you? She's going to get shamed about it." "I just want to see it. I see funny things. It's just hke your footsteps, those feet. . . . It's just like your foot, those footsteps." [The girl recognized the garters.] "It's my mother's," I said. "It's my mother's gar- ters." [I had seen them.] She put it in her pocket [before she got into the canoe.] My father buy it from here [at Yakutat]—brand new things. It don't get dirty, you know .... [These were yeUow garters. The dead woman had recognized Lituya Bay George's trap and shpped her garters over the stake so people would know she was among the Land Otter People.] I dreamed in 1930 that my mother wants to see me. There is a big stump right by that house and she was sitting right on that stump. She gives me two minks. "These are your two brothers," she said. "Kucda 'anqawu [land otter chief]—they marry me. Don't think [worry] about yourself. You're going to be lucky." After that we got lots of money. My mother said, "I'm lucky. I'm married to a big man among the land otters." The two mink were her children. This was the first time I dream about my mother. A Girl Captured by Land Otters [This account is condensed from versions told by MJ on August 24, 1952, and September 3, 1952.] Since the Church is estabhshed here there is no such a thing as Land Otter Men. They beheve in that stuff long ago, but now I never hear nobody make a com- plaint anybody disappeared—only they get drowned. They honestly believe my 12-year old sister who disappeared got caught by them. In 1905, the kucda-qa got her .... [The little girl had disappeared from a log cabin near the mouth of the Ankau, opposite the present site of the ANB Cemetery. She had perhaps attempted to walk back to Yakutat along the shore for she was anxious to attend the mission school the next day. But no trace of her was ever foimd.] People thought she was stolen by land otters, be- cause when a search party went over in a big canoe to look for her, they heard people hoUering by the lake back of the bluff on the east side of the Ankau entrance. They thought that people had found her and were calling to announce it, but aU they found when they landed were lots of land otter tracks where they had been shding mto the lake. It was stormy the evening she disappeared, but the next day was calm and sunny. It's always that way when land otters are up to somethinff. IN THREE PARTS WITCHES AND LAND OTTER MEN 755 Small Boys Saved by Dogs [The foUowing episodes were told by HB, SH, and ANH in conversation, July 20, 1952.] When K was a young boy at Yakataga (1907-10), he was nearly kidnapped by land otters. The men were aU out on the ocean, hunting sea otters, and had left aU the women and children on shore. They were ex- pecting a canoe from Yakutat with K's foster-parents. The women looked up and saw a canoe with men sitting in it and the captain standing up. It was ap- parently landing, and the boy went down to meet it, thinking it contained his relatives. Fortunately, he had two big dogs, of the type caUed SAwak, and they went down to the beach, barking. And that canoe was just a stump! [That is, the dogs' barks made the "canoe" that the land otter "relatives" were using turn back into a stump. It is not clear what happened to the land otters.] This happened twice. The people on shore were frightened, but the dogs saved them. [About 1930?], S and another man were out at Situk fish camp. One day, G (bom 1928), the httle nephew of S, accompanied his uncle and the other man to the beach, where they were tending their gUl net. When they returned to camp, the mother asked them where G was. The men said they thought he'd come back to camp ahead of them. But since he wasn't there, they knew he must be back on the beach. It's half tide coming in on the beach already. They both ran. The dogs had been under the house but they passed the men, going fuU tUt. The men could hear the httle boy talking to someone ahead of them. He looked like Henry Shada (1865?- 1935?), the boy's paternal "uncle". But when the dogs jumped on him, he turned into a land otter and ran away! Just last year [1951], G was reminiscing about this experience and told S that he reaUy thought he was talking to Henry Shada untU the dogs came and scared the land otter away. He has ibeen thinking about this thing that happened to him when he was a little boy, and now he knows that the dogs saved him. Two Boys Lost in the Woods [Edited from an account by CW and JW, AprU 5, 1954.] One night in 1940, two smaU boys from Yakutat, 265-517—72—VOL VII, pt. 2 15 (J and E) went after school into the forest to get wood. They both became lost, didn't know which way to go, and walked around in circles. One held an ax, the other a crosscut saw. That's why they didn't go crazy. That's why the kucda were scared. They were walking aU night. Sometimes they were walldng way down on the beach. But they came back to the same place. It was in the faU. AU night people were looking for them. They tried shooting, but the boys didn't hear. In the morning they came to the ocean, and were found on the other side of the mouth of the Ankau. They didn't know what was the matter. When they tried to come home, they just went on the ocean beach. That's how kucda fools people. They had a hard time that night, those two boys. But the land otters didn't get them because they held onto the ax and the saw. Adventures of White Men With Land Otter IVLen [The foUowing is from a letter to me, December 22, 1955.] [Two men drowned near Knight Island in a big storm, November 17, 1955.] Big BiU E that lives across by Ben T [near the head of Monti Bay] also capsized; was lost on his way to Yakutat from Situk. He left on his own skiff, 15- horsepower outboard motor, and was lost out on the big ocean. Three days after the big storm, one of the boys. Butch, went out on his plane, searching, and he saw him rolling around on the sand beach of Point Manby. No skiff. Butch was landed by him and trying to help him up to the plane. BiU refused to go. He saw so many slim mans around him. He saw them himself. Those slim mens were talking excited. That was Land Otter Men. His story's so interesting. He saw pretty looking girl, too. He even see big truck come by to pick him up, but he refuse to go or refuse to talk to them. He even saw his skiff dry up and later smashed by the slim men. When he was picked up by plane, his skiff just disappeared. I heard GU S [another White man] saw the same things when his skiff capsized with him two summers ago. He saw a skiff rushing to him but didn't reach him. Only one big land otter there. Looks like BUl is out of his mind when he was first brought out. . ; : The Tlingit Individual For the Thngit, the individual person is apparently conceived as made of or having three aspects: the body; a virtuaUy sexless, immortal spirit or soul which is reincarnated in a series of bodies, yet leaves behind some ghostly essence with the corpse; and the name or names which indicate and also establish personal identity.®' This identity involves membership in lineage and sib, by virtue of which the individual is aUied through totemic "kinship" bonds \vith animals, birds, and fish. The role he plays as a person is determined by aU of these factors, including his social status which is in part controUed by his own acts. The exact nature of these different aspects of the person have probably never been clearly conceptuahzed by the Tlingit themselves, and the relationships between them never consistently formulated. Today, of course, it is ex- ceedingly diflBcult to recover aboriginal notions un- contaminated by Christian doctrine or Western science, and if I appear to draw too heavily upon mythological examples and linguistic expressions in attempting to elucidate native ideas, it is because my most thoughtful informants themselves cited such material in answer to philosophical questions, and because traditional myth and legend have actuaUy colored the personal experiences of many stiU hving. THE BODY Man's body is, in essence, the covering of the spirit or "soul" which the latter leaves behind permanently in death and may leave temporarUy in coma. We do not know exactly what occurs in sleep, since information is equivocal. There is no simple word for the body as a whole. Rather, one caUs one's body as 'me around blanket'(?), or 'my surrounding flesh'(?) ('ax da tl'iyi).^ The terms for 'flesh' and 'blanket' are phoneticaUy so simUar that I could not be sure of distinguishing them. In myth, furthermore, the bodies of the animals are the fur blankets they wore in their earher human form. Another term for 'my body' is 'my outer side' ('ax da), as in the expression 'my body twitches' ('ax da li-hAtc). This word is comparable to the term for the bark on a tree, or 'covering of a tree' ('as dayi).^ There are also separate terms for corpse, hide taken from the carcass, and for bark of various kinds when stripped from the trees. When asked about the body, one informant ex- plained: "The Bible says our spirit house is our body. That's the way my mother's grandfather's brother 98 See de Laguna, 1954. This chapter is a fuller discussion of the data which pertain especially to Yakutat. 1 The expression may refer to meat, flesh (J^iy, i.e., dliy), rather than to blanket (fl) (Boas, 1917, p. 130). Kelley and Willard (1905, pp. 753, 755, 756, 760) render body as "A;a-dl6-y6' (flesh)" to be transliterated as qa-l'iy£. Yet they also give the same term (die, i.e., I'i) for blanket, flesh, meat, muscle. * According to Boas (1917, pp. 106, 124), d^ is a locative noim, often used as a suffix, meaning circumference, outer side of a round object, place around something, as in around him (dild^), or memorial post for ashes (dak6t). See also the Yakutat word for grave house (qadakedi). says: That's a house he wants to go in." This is a reference to the experience of Lxakunik who "died" when a httle boy but returned from the Land of the Dead. At first he was unable to reenter his body. "Then he gives up. He stand in a corner," that is, outside the corner of his "house" or body. And then suddenly he found himself inside, and so came back to life. The symbolism is a double one, for the "corner of the house" also represented the special opening made in the corner of the house through which the corpse is carried out, in order not to use the door. (See the Story of Lxakunik, pp. 775-776.) The same informant used a simUar metaphor in telhng about a fainting speU: "My daughter, L-, is imconscience all night. She teU me [when later describing her experience] they [she?] open a window in the place. That's their body. That's the way the body looks to the spirit. Our spirit's house is body, like Bible teUs us. . . . The body is the house of the spirit. L— [in her coma] opens that window. 'Nobody inside our house,' she says. She can't open the window [i.e., far enough to enter]. After a while she gives up. She stand in the corner," and thereby reentered her body and returned to conscious- ness. A few months later she died. The metaphor of the house was also apphed to the shaman's body when it was entered by his famUiar spirit (yek): "Some people say it's just hke looking through that window, how you can't see very good out of it. Some- times that's the way you see. He can't see either. He says, "Ucke—I wonder.' He's not sure inside. . . . The yek speaks in him." 758 IN THREE PARTS THE TLINGIT INDIVIDUAL 759 The shaman's own "soul" may also leave his body and journey to far places. He "comes alive again" when his "soul" returns, and he then reports what he has seen (pp. 703-704). Yet his body, too, is involved in some way, for the Yakutat shaman and his wife whose "souls" visited the land of the Tsimshian were clutching Tsimshian berries in their hands when they returned to hfe (p. 711). Sometimes the temporary "death" of the shaman marks his initial acquisition of power(p. 713). The hving body itself could suffer transformations during some supernatural adventures, as when the captive of the Land Otter Men sees fur growing on his skin and his naUs turning into animal claws (p. 748). The witch, too, may assume animal form (pp. 731-732), just as in myth time animals could doff and resume their hairy "blankets." The witch's body also had the extraordinary abihty to move in a flash or to change in size (p. 731). Conversely, wounds or mutUations of the body in life, or the rotting of the corpse, may be reflected in the appearance of the ghost or of the new body entered by the reincarnated soul. Sleep and Dreams Normal sleep (ta) was also conceived as something like death. In fact, 'he's sleeping' or 'he's faUing asleep' is expressed as 'by sleep he was kUled' (tatc 'uwadJAq). * There is also the saying: 'sleep hves face to face with death' (nana kika 'aya 'u ta). "That's sleep, sleep hving right face-to-face with the dead. If a person sleeps too much he's bringing himseK closer to death. I think they had a limit to how long they had [were aUowed] to sleep, too. If they yawn too much they want to go there . . . because in the dead people's viUage, anybody yawning, they [the dead] always say, 'A person wants to come.' " I am not, however, sure that the soul or spirit leaves the body in sleep, although it would appear that the dreamer may actuaUy be visited by the spirits of those who have died, or who are about to be reborn, and others may also dream about someone who is being reincarnated in a baby. One who is being witched may dream of the person who is injuring him, but it is not clear that the witch is doing this by means of the dream. Rather, the dream reveals the triumphant face of the witch, mocking the victim, and this foretells death. Sometimes a shaman who has been consulted by the sick person may "put" the witch's spirit into the patient's dream (djun) or sleep: 'Your sleep inside his 3 See also Boas (1917, pp. 45, 140): tXtc 'uwAdjAq'—sleep killed him or he fell asleep. spirit wiU be' ('itayi tudE du yAk^'q^aheyagu quqati), the shaman would say. In this way the victim knows who is guUty, or the shaman may interpret the dream and name the witch. Dreams of this kind are considered as sujQ5cient evidence to justify action: I know of one dying man who tried to shoot his own brother because a dream had revealed this brother as the witch who was kUling him (p. 740). Forewarned by the dream, a shaman may be able in some cases to thwart the witch. That there may be other methods of deahng with dreams that bring misfortune is suggested by the report made by a widow about the dreams her husband had had shortly before his death. "Other bad dreams he could kUl by talking them into a glass jar in the morn- ing." Or, ia his dream, he had been able to kiU the animals that were pursuing him. However, in one of the last dreams, he was chased up the outside of the house by a lot of pigs who took away the ladder and left him hanging by his hands. The head pig then turned into the witch woman. "Where's your wife? Aren't you going to come down?" she taunted. "You're going to stay up there forever." He woke screaming, and died the next week. Here we can again see the obvious symbolism of the house which he cannot reenter. The same meaning is to be read into a dream in which the widow saw her recently deceased husband who stiU seemed to be ahve but was prophesying his own death. In the dream he held her hand, as he had often done in life, and said: "M—, in the first place, I teU you that \\ind's going to be a March wind, a strong wind. That's why aU my things, I pack them away, take aU my boats ashore. It is always a strong wind in March." In her dream she saw the wind blowing something (shingles) from the roof, and he pounded it with his hand to fix it. "M—, you always get sorry about things. That's why I don't want to teU you. Some pieces are rotting from our house," he said. "Some pieces are rotting from our house." Some dreams about a dead person's spirit, especiaUy if he had been mean in life, pressage death or other misfortune. "But I don't dream about my mother or father that way. [They were dead.] I dream them for good luck. . . . My mother I always dream when I'm going to have good luck." And the same informant said on another occa- sion: "I always dream my father's people—then I'm going to be lucky. In one dream, my father is coming through the door. 'You're going to be lucky,' he said. 'You're not going broke. Your father's side is going to take care of you.'" "If you descended from Indian doctor, if you got Indian doctor spirit, that's the time you dream good, you know. It's coming true." I have already noted how artistic inspiration may come in the form of a dream (p. 576). 760 SMITHSONIAN CONTRIBUTIONS TO ANTHROPOLOGY VOLUME 7 To dream about an adult as a chUd means that he wUl get sick: it is imphed that he wiU die and be re- born (MJ). To see a hving person in the company of a dead person also seems to be a sign that the former wUl die, another told me, and to dream of an absent friend means that he is returning. "When you handle fish in a dream that means good luck. The spirit of money is coming to you—^like sUver scales." (MJ) Sev- eral dreams of this kind were recorded. For example, a widow repeatedly dreamed that her dead husband came to her with a king salmon in each hand, teUing her that he was bringing her good luck. Then something good always happened (see also p. 720). Thus it would appear that some dreams, if not aU, are to be considered as experiences of the self, even though it is never made completely clear what portion of the dreamer's person is involved. He does not appear to leave his body when dreaming, yet the dream seems to affect it. It is more hkely that it is the spirits or souls of others, even the "spirit of money," that enter into his dream or sleep. Thus one could say about the dream of the witch which the shaman had induced: "someone put his spirit into my sleep" (du yA'^q^'ahe- yagu ^x tayi tut wuduwatf—'his spirit my sleep into someone put'). However, the dreamer's own activities in his dream may be as decisive as what he might do in waking life. Thus, a widow dreamed that her dead husband wished her to go with him to Juneau. She went on board the steamer, but as she sat in the cabin she remembered that there would be no one to care for their chUdren. The ship was already moving from the dock when she jumped ashore. As she was hurrying home, her husband overtook her. "C—, why did you go away? I was only going to take you to Juneau for a few days." Although my informant did not offer an interpretation of this dream, I beheve that the Juneau steamer was a sym- bohc counterpart of the "Disease Boat" (see p. 769), and had she saUed on it, she would have died. To remember one's chUdren and one's obligation to them is a theme appearing in other accounts of return from the dead. This seems to be the traditional motive for living. Body Parts and Functions Although I secured the terms for many parts of the body, I was not able to explore the fuU extent of Thngit knowledge about anatomy and physiology. It is my impression that the Tlingit in general have a far less accurate understandiug of such matters than, for ex- ample, the Eskimo, and I have already (de Laguna, 1960, p. 16) suggested that the conventionalizations of their highly symbolic art may indicate a lack of interest in anatomical detaU, or even have hindered accurate perception. Yet mid wives were certaioly skUled, and since post mortem operations were performed to remove the baby from a woman who had died in chUdbirth (p. 535), we may assume that there was a good deal of practical lore. Surgical and medical procedures in treat- ing wounds, burns, and other sores have been described (pp. 655-659). In magical and ceremonial ritual, a part of the body may stand for the whole or retain a mystic connection with it even when detached. Thus the treatment of the afterbirth, umbUical cord, and naU parings of a chUd can affect the development of character and skiUs (pp. 506-507), and naUs, hair, bits of clothing (with the body's sweat upon them), or the crumbs from the mouth may be used as witch's dirt to cause sickness or death (pp. 730-731). At the same time, specific parts of the body are considered to have specific functions or powers. The effluvia of the body have a special potency. One informant as a chUd saw her grandfather use mucus (cAtxitc) to kiU a big mud shark, which he had un- intentionaUy caught on a halibut hook. "If you club that shark, it never die. But blow your nose and throw snot at his face and he die right away." (MJ; p. 391.) Human urine (kwAs) and excrement (hatl') are pro- tection against the mysterious and terrible Land Otter People, since these creatures cannot endure the smeU (pp. 747, etc.). Furthermore, mountain or glacier spirits that are attracted by the savory odors of cooking food are afraid of the smeU made by burning old clothes, probably because of the human sweat clinging to them. It was denied that these had to be bloody rags. Menstrual blood and chUdbirth discharges were, of course exceedingly potent, and so repellent to animals fish, and spirits that menstruants and parturients had to be isolated from men and from their hunting and fishing gear, and especiaUy from shamans and their paraphernalia. Such women were also prohibited from approaching salmon streams because their presence was thought to contaminate the water (pp. 501, 528, 659).* As far as I know, however, no use was made of such discharges to drive away evU spirits or to cause death by witchcraft.^ Because of the contamination involved in physiological functions, eating, drinking, * The great sensitivity of salmon to human odors has been established by experimentation. If a hand or foot is placed in the water of a fish ladder, the spawning salmon will not move, or the run is drastically reduced. Other odors, noises, lights, are of much less effect (Brett and Mackinnon, 1952). * However, a Wrangell story (Swanton, Tale 86, pp. 247-248), tells how two dead men that were coming back to life were killed for good when a jealous girl marked their accustomed sitting places with blood, although it is not specifically stated that this was menstrual discharge. * IN THREE PARTS THE TLINGIT INDIVIDUAL 761 and sexual intercourse were either completely pro- hibited or avoided as far as possible, and the body cleansed iaside and out, before something dangerous or uncertain was undertaken. Life was associated with breathing (yl-s^, Boas 1917, p. 138) or breath (du segu). This is Ulustrated by the words of the song by Dry Bay George (1954, 6-2-G; p. 1298): 'The world is turning with our breath [or life]' (hada segu, or thu yadasek^). A feather might be laid on the hps of a moribund person, and when it ceased to move this showed that he had died. When he took his last breath the door of the house was supposed to be opened to facUitate the departure of his spirit. There seems also to be a native expression, "It's in the breath," to indicate inherited famUy resemblances. Here, the term also imphes, I beheve, the notion of the personal name (also designated by the same root, -sa), since the name is inherited along with the reincarnated spirit. The body is conceptuahzed in terms of eight bones (or joints) which symbohze the living person as a whole. These bones were said to be counted "from the head down," but were enumerated by MJ in what appeared to be a sunwise order as: il forearm, K, upper arm, L upper arm, L forearm, L thigh, L lower leg, R lower leg, R thigh. It should be noted that the femur is designated as 'the bone inside his thigh' (du kac tu ^aqe), and the humerus as 'the bone inside his upper arm' (du xik tu saqe). The radius and ulna are treated as a single bone, 'the bone inside his hand' (du djin tu Saqe), while the tibia and fibula combined are 'the bone inside his shin' (du xi§ tu Saqe). This method of "count- ing" is facUitated by the fact that Thngit nouns have no plural form, yet it also suggests a fine dis- regard for anatomical detaU. Another informant hsted the joints, even though she spoke of "eight bones." These were: L elbow, L shoul- der, E, shoulder, E, elbow, E. hip, R knee, L knee, and L hip. ('Elbow' tiiycu; 'shoulder' xSkcl, 'hip' kac or qac, 'knee,' kicl.) In this case also, it was specified that one should begin with the left side. A third informant insisted: "It's the bones not the joints. 'Eight bones' (nB§kAducu Saq). . . . You see that eight. The reason why they have lunit to that eight [for ceremonial or magical acts] is the bones on the limbs. That's why when they stop eating, it's got to be 8 days. It's always eight; everything's eight. The rules come from the human limb, I guess. Four in the leg and four in the arm." The eight-fold symbohsm of the bones is rituaUy manipulated to secure reincarnation, and I have already noted its importance in the magical exercises and abstinences of the adolescent, the widowed, the peace hostage, and the shamanistic novice, and even in the number of house-buUding potlatches at- tempted by the chief. In other contexts the head or face was the most important part of the body. For example, it received the most adornment, with hat or headdress, mask or face paint, usuaUy representing the sib or lineage crest. There were ornaments in the hair, nose, ears, hps, and about the neck, depending upon the sex and the occasion. The hair was cut or singed off in mourn- ing (except that of a shaman and his wife). After death, the heads and scalps, at least of distinguished persons, and especiaUy of chiefs and warriors slain in battle, were saved as mementos. There are suggestions that in the 18th century there may have been something akin to a trophy head cult. An actual injury to the face caUed for heavy damages; an insult hurled at one or the sh