By Author [ A  B  C  D  E  F  G  H  I  J  K  L  M  N  O  P  Q  R  S  T  U  V  W  X  Y  Z |  Other Symbols ]
  By Title [ A  B  C  D  E  F  G  H  I  J  K  L  M  N  O  P  Q  R  S  T  U  V  W  X  Y  Z |  Other Symbols ]
  By Language
all Classics books content using ISYS

Download this book: [ ASCII ]

Look for this book on Amazon

We have new books nearly every day.
If you would like a news letter once a week or once a month
fill out this form and we will give you a summary of the books for that week or month by email.

Title: Ten years of missionary work among the Indians at Skokomish, Washington Territory, 1874-1884
Author: Eells, Myron
Language: English
As this book started as an ASCII text book there are no pictures available.
Copyright Status: Not copyrighted in the United States. If you live elsewhere check the laws of your country before downloading this ebook. See comments about copyright issues at end of book.

*** Start of this Doctrine Publishing Corporation Digital Book "Ten years of missionary work among the Indians at Skokomish, Washington Territory, 1874-1884" ***

This book is indexed by ISYS Web Indexing system to allow the reader find any word or number within the document.


                        TEN YEARS AT SKOKOMISH.

                   [Illustration: SKOKOMISH AGENCY.]

                               TEN YEARS
                            MISSIONARY WORK
                           AMONG THE INDIANS

                           BY REV. M. EELLS,
         _Missionary of the American Missionary Association_.

         Congregational Sunday-School and Publishing Society,
                         CONGREGATIONAL HOUSE,

                          COPYRIGHT, 1886, BY

                     _Electrotyped and printed by
           Stanley & Usher, 171 Devonshire Street, Boston._


Says Mrs. J. McNair Wright: “If the church can only be plainly shown the
need, amount, prospects, and methods of work in any given field, a vital
interest will at once arise in that field, and money for it will not be
lacking. The missionary columns in our religious papers do not supply
the information needed fully to set our missions before the church. Our
home-mission work needs to be ‘written up.’ The foreign field has found
a large increase of interest in its labors from the numerous books that
have been written,--_interestingly written_,--giving descriptions of the
work, the countries where the missionaries toil, and the lives of the
missionaries themselves. The Pueblo, the Mormon, and the American Indian
work should be similarly brought before the church. A book gives a
compact, united view of a subject; the same view given monthly or weekly
in the columns of periodicals loses much of its force and, moreover, is
much less likely to meet the notice of the young. A hearty missionary
spirit will be had in our church only when we furnish our youth with
more books on missionary themes.”[1]

In accordance with these ideas the following pages have been written.

It is surprising to find how few books can be obtained on missionary
work among the Indians. After ten years of effort the writer has only
been able to secure twenty-six books on such work in the United States,
and five of these are 18mo. volumes of less than forty pages each. Only
five of these have been published within the last fifteen years. Books
on the adventurous, scientific, and political departments of Indian life
are numerous and large; the reverse is true of the missionary
department. Hence it is not strange that such singular ideas predominate
among the American people in regard to the Indian problem.

M. E.



                              TO MY WIFE,
                            SARAH M. EELLS,

Who has been my companion during these ten years of labor; who has
cheered me, and made a Christian home for me to run into as into a safe
hiding-place, and who has been an example to the Indians,--these pages
are affectionately inscribed.


Much of the information contained in the following pages has been
published, especially in _The American Missionary_ of New York and _The
Pacific_ of San Francisco. Yet, in writing these pages, so much of it
has been altered that it has been impracticable to give quotation-marks
and acknowledgment for each item. I therefore take this general way of
acknowledging my indebtedness to those publications.


INTRODUCTION                                                          11

SKOKOMISH                                                             15

PRELIMINARY HISTORY                                                   17

EARLY RELIGIOUS TEACHING                                              21

SUBSEQUENT POLITICAL HISTORY                                          26

THE FIELD AND THE WORK                                                28

DIFFICULTIES IN THE WAY OF RELIGIOUS WORK                             33
  (_a_) LANGUAGES                                                     33
  (_b_) THEIR RELIGION                                                37
  (_c_) BESETTING SINS                                                53

TEMPERANCE                                                            60

INDUSTRIES                                                            69

TITLES TO THEIR LANDS                                                 74

MODE OF LIVING                                                        82

NAMES                                                                 85

EDUCATION                                                             87

FOURTH OF JULY                                                        93

CHRISTMAS                                                             97

VARIETY                                                              100

MARRIAGE AND DIVORCE                                                 105

SICKNESS                                                             118

FUNERALS                                                             122

THE CENSUS OF 1880                                                   132

THE INFLUENCE OF THE WHITES                                          144

THE CHURCH AT SKOKOMISH                                              149

BIG BILL                                                             158

DARK DAYS                                                            163

LIGHT BREAKING                                                       170

THE FIRST BATTLE                                                     172

THE VICTORY                                                          180

RECONSTRUCTION                                                       184

JOHN FOSTER PALMER                                                   188

M---- F----                                                          191

DISCOURAGING CASES AND DISAPPOINTMENTS                               195

THE CHURCH AT JAMESTOWN                                              200

COOK HOUSE BILLY                                                     209

LORD JAMES BALCH                                                     214

TOURING                                                              216

THE BIBLE AND OTHER BOOKS                                            223

BIBLE PICTURES                                                       227

THE SABBATH-SCHOOL                                                   230

PRAYER-MEETINGS                                                      235

INDIAN HYMNS                                                         244

NATIVE MINISTRY AND SUPPORT                                          256

TOBACCO                                                              260

SPICE                                                                263

CURRANT JELLY                                                        267

CONCLUSION                                                           270


The Indians are in our midst. Different solutions of the problem have
been proposed. It is evident that we must either kill them, move them
away, or let them remain with us. The civilization and Christianity of
the United States, with all that is uncivilized and un-Christian, is not
yet ready to kill them. One writer has proposed to move them to some
good country which Americans do not want, and leave it to them. We have
been trying to find such a place for a century--have moved the Indians
from one reservation to another and from one State or Territory to
another; but have failed to find the desired haven of rest for them. It
is more difficult to find it now than it ever has been, as Americans
have settled in every part of the United States and built towns,
railroads, and telegraph-lines all over the country. Hence no such place
has been found, and it never will be.

Therefore the Indians are with us to remain. They are to be our
neighbors. The remaining question is, Shall they be good or bad ones?
If we are willing that they shall be bad, all that is necessary is for
good people to neglect them; for were there no evil influences connected
with civilization(!), they would not rise from their degradation,
ignorance, and wickedness without help. When, however, we add to their
native heathenism all the vices of intemperance, immorality, hate, and
the like, which wicked men naturally carry to them, they will easily and
quickly become very bad neighbors. Weeds will grow where nothing is

If we wish them to become good neighbors, something must be done. Good
seeds must be sown, watched, cultivated. People may call them savage,
ignorant, treacherous, superstitious, and the like. I will not deny it.
In the language of a popular writer of the day: “The remedy for
ignorance is education;” likewise for heathenism, superstition, and
treachery, it is the gospel. White people can not _keep_ the
civilization which they already have without the school and the church;
and Indians are not so much abler and better that they can be raised to
become good neighbors without the same.

Impressed with this belief, the writer has been engaged for the past ten
years in missionary work with a few of them in the region of Skokomish,
and here presents a record of some of the experiences. In the account he
has recorded failures as well as successes. In his earlier ministry,
both among whites and Indians, he read the accounts of other similar
workers, who often recorded only their success. It was good in its
place, for something was learned of the causes of the success. But too
much of this was discouraging. He was not always successful and
sometimes wondered if these writers were ever disappointed as much as he
was. Sometimes when he read the record of a failure it did him more good
than a record of a success. He took courage because he felt that he was
not the only one who sometimes failed. The Bible records failures as
well as successes.




The Skokomish Reservation is situated in the western part of Washington
Territory, near the head of Hood’s Canal, the western branch of Puget
Sound. It is at the mouth of the Skokomish River. The name means “the
river people,” from _kaw_, a river, in the Twana language, which in the
word has been changed to _ko_. It is the largest river which empties
into Hood’s Canal; hence, that band of the Twana tribe which originally
lived here were called _the river people_. The Twana tribe was formerly
composed of three bands: the Du-hlay-lips, who lived fourteen miles
farther up the canal, at its extreme head; the Skokomish band, who lived
about the mouth of the river, and the Kol-seeds, or Quilcenes, who lived
thirty or forty miles farther down the canal. The dialects of these
three bands vary slightly.

When the treaty was made by the United States in 1855, the land about
the mouth of the Skokomish River was selected as the reservation; the
other bands in time moved to it, and the post-office was given the same
name; hence, the tribe came to be known more as the Skokomish Indians
than by their original name of Tu-án-hu, a name which has been changed
by whites to Twana, and so appears in government reports.

The reservation is small, hardly three miles square, comprising about
five thousand acres, nearly two thousand of which is excellent bottom
land. As much more is hilly and gravelly, and the rest is swamp land.
With the exception of the latter, it is covered with timber.



Ever since the Spanish traders and Vancouver in the latter part of the
last century, and the Northwest Fur Company and Hudson’s Bay Company in
the early part of the present century, came to Puget Sound, these
Indians have had some intercourse with the whites, and learned some
things about the white man’s ways, his Sabbath, his Bible, and his God.
Fort Nisqually, one of the posts of the Hudson’s Bay Company, was
situated about fifty miles from Skokomish, so that these Indians were
comparatively near to it.

About 1850, Americans began to settle on Puget Sound. In 1853 Washington
was set off from Oregon and organized into a territory, and in 1855 the
treaty was made with these Indians. Governor I. I. Stevens and Colonel
M. C. Simmons represented the government, and the three tribes of the
Twanas, Chemakums, and S’klallams were the parties of the other part.
The Chemakums were a small tribe, lived near where Port Townsend now
is, and are now extinct. The S’klallams, or Clallams (as the name has
since become), lived on the south side of the Straits of Fuca, from Port
Townsend westward almost to Neah Bay, and were by far the largest and
strongest tribe of the three. It was expected that all the tribes would
be removed to the reservation. The government, however, was to furnish
the means for doing so, but it was never done, and as the Clallams and
Twanas were never on very friendly terms, there having been many murders
between them in early days, the Clallams have not come voluntarily to
it, but remain in different places in the region of their old homes. The
reservation, about three miles square, also was too small for all of the
tribes, it having been said that twenty-eight hundred Indians belonged
to them when the treaty was made. There were certainly no more.

The treaty has been known as that of Point-No-Point, it having been made
at that place, a few miles north of the mouth of Hood’s Canal on the
main sound, in 1855. It was, however, four years later when it was
ratified, and another year before the machinery was put in motion, so
that government employees were sent to the reservation to teach the
Indians. In the meantime the Yakama War took place, the most
wide-spread Indian war which ever occurred on this north-west coast, it
having begun almost simultaneously in Southern Oregon, Eastern Oregon,
and Washington, and on Puget Sound. The Indians on the eastern side of
the sound were engaged in it, but the Clallams and Twanas as tribes did
not do so, and never have been engaged in any war with the whites. They
were related by marriage with some of the tribes who were hostile, and a
few individuals from one or both of these tribes went to the eastern
side of the sound and joined the hostiles, but as tribes they remained


The Clallams were a strong tribe, and large numbers of them lived at an
early day about Port Townsend. Here, too, was the Duke of York, who was
for many years their head chief and a noted friend of the Americans.
About 1850, he went to San Francisco on a sailing-vessel, and saw the
numbers, and realized something of the power, of the whites. After his
return the Indians became very much enraged at the residents of Port
Townsend, who were few in numbers, and the savages were almost all ready
to engage in war with them. Had they done so, they could easily have
wiped out the place, and the white people knew it. The Indians were
ready to do so, but the Duke of York stood between the Indians and the
whites. For hours the savage mass surged to and fro, hungry for blood,
the Duke of York’s brother being among the number. For as many hours the
Duke of York alone held them from going any farther, by his eloquence,
telling them of the numbers and power of the whites; and that if the
Indians should kill these whites, others would come and wipe them out.
At last they yielded to him. He saved Port Townsend and saved his tribe
from a war with the whites.

In 1860 the first government employees were sent to Skokomish, and
civilizing influences of a kind were brought more closely to the
Indians. With one or two exceptions, very little religious influence was
brought to bear upon them. Of one of their agents, Mr. J. Knox, the
Indians speak in terms of gratitude and praise. He set out a large
orchard, and did considerable to improve them. In 1870, when all the
Indians were put under the military, these Indians were put under
Lieutenant Kelley. The Indians do not speak well of military rule. It
was too tyrannical.



About 1850 Father E. C. Chirouse, a Catholic priest, came to Puget
Sound, and for a time was on Hood’s Canal. He had two missions among the
Twanas, one among the Kolseed band, and the other among the Duhlaylips.
He baptized a large number of them; made two Indian priests, and left an
influence which was not soon forgotten. At a council held after a time
by various tribes, the Skokomish and other neighboring tribes of the
lower eastern sound were too strong for the Twanas and induced Father
Chirouse to leave them. Not long afterward the Indians relapsed into
their old style of religion, and on the surface it appeared as if all
were forgotten: but when Protestant teachers came among them, and their
old religion died, some of the Indians turned for a time to that
Catholic religion which they had first learned, as one easier for the
natural heart to follow than that of the Protestants.

From 1860 to 1871 but little religious instruction was given to these
Indians. At different times Rev. W. C. Chattin, of the Methodist
Episcopal Church, and Mr. D. B. Ward, of the Protestant Methodist
Church, taught the school, and each endeavored to give some Christian
teaching on the Sabbath, but they found it hard work, for
Sabbath-breaking, house-building, trafficking, and gambling by the
whites and the Indians were allowed in sight and hearing of the place
where the services were held. “If it is wrong to break the Sabbath, why
does the agent do so?” “If it is wrong to play cards and gamble, why do
the whites do so?” These and similar questions were asked by the Indian
children of their Christian teachers. It was somewhat difficult to
answer them. It was more difficult to work against such influences.
Still the seed sown then was not wholly lost. It remained buried a long
time. I have seen that some of those children, however, although they
forgot how to read, and almost forgot how to talk English, yet received
influences which, fifteen or twenty years afterward, made them a
valuable help to their people in their march upward.

In 1871, however, a decided change was made. In that year President
Grant adopted what has been known as the peace policy, in which he
assigned the different agencies to different missionary societies,
asking them to nominate agents, promising that these should be confirmed
by the Senate. While it was not expected that the government would
directly engage in missionary work, yet the President realized that
Christianity was necessary to the solution of the Indian problem, and he
hoped that the missionary societies who should nominate these agents
would become interested in the work, and encouraged them to send
missionaries to their several fields. These agents were expected to
coöperate with the missionaries in their special work.

At that time the Skokomish Agency was assigned to the American
Missionary Association, a society supported by the Congregationalists.
In 1871 they nominated Mr. Edwin Eells as agent for this place, who was
confirmed by the Senate, and in May of that year he took charge of these

Mr. Eells was the oldest son of Rev. C. Eells, D.D., who came to the
coast in 1838 as a missionary to the Spokane Indians, where he remained
about ten years, until the Whitman Massacre and Cayuse War rendered it
unsafe for him to remain there any longer. The agent was born among
these Indians in July, 1841. Like most young men on this coast, he had
been engaged in various callings. He had been a farmer, school-teacher,
clerk in a store, teamster, had served as enrolling officer for
government at Walla-Walla during the war, and had studied law. At the
age of fifteen he had united with a Congregational church, and had
maintained a consistent Christian character. All of these things proved
to be of good service to him in his new position, where education,
farm-work, purchase of goods, law business, intercourse with government,
the ideas which he had received from his parents about the Indians and
Christianity, were all needed.

In 1871, soon after he assumed his new duties, he began a Sabbath-school
and prayer-meeting. He selected Christian men as employees. These
consisted of a physician, school-teacher, and matron, carpenter, farmer,
and blacksmith. He also selected men with families as being those who
would be likely to have the best influence on the Indians. In 1872 Rev.
J. Casto, M.D., was engaged as government physician, and Rev. C. Eells,
the father of the agent, went to live with his son, and both during the
winter preached at the agency and in the camps of the Indians. During
1874 a council-house was built, with the consent of government, at a
money-cost to the government of five hundred dollars--besides the work
which was done by the government carpenter. This has since been used as
a church, and sometimes as a school-house. During that spring it was
thought best to organize a church, for although at first it would be
composed chiefly of whites, yet it was hoped that it would have a
salutary influence on the Indians, and be a nucleus around which some of
the Indians would gather. This was done June 23, 1874, the day after the
writer arrived at the place. It was organized with eleven members, ten
of whom were whites, and one, John F. Palmer, was an Indian. He was at
that time government interpreter. The sermon was by Rev. G. H. Atkinson,
D.D., of Portland, superintendent of Home Missions for Oregon and
Washington, and one of the vice-presidents of the American Missionary
Association; the prayer of consecration by Rev. E. Walker, who had been
the missionary associate of Rev. C. Eells during his work among the
Spokane Indians; the right hand of fellowship by Rev. A. H. Bradford, a
visitor on this coast from Montclair, New Jersey; and the charge to the
church by the writer. Thus affairs existed when I came to the place.



As far as the government was concerned, affairs remained much the same
until 1880. Then the time agreed upon by the treaty for which
appropriations were to be made--twenty years--expired. By special
appropriation affairs were carried on for another year, however, as
usual. In July, 1881, the government ordered that the carpenter,
blacksmith, and farmer be discharged, and Indian employees be put in
their places. Some of these were afterward discharged. The next year the
three agencies on the sound, the Tulalip, Nisqually, and Skokomish, were
consolidated enough to put them under one agent, without, however,
moving the Indians in any way. The three agencies comprised ten
reservations, which were under the missionary instruction of the
Presbyterians, Congregationalists, and Catholics. By the consolidation
there was to be no interference with the religious affairs of the
Indians. Mr. E. Eells, the agent at Skokomish, was selected as the one
who was to have charge of all, but his head-quarters were moved to the
Tulalip Agency, which was under the religious control of the Catholics.
Thus, after more than eleven years of residence at Skokomish, he
departed from the place; after which he usually returned about once in
three months on business. A year later this large agency was divided;
the five Catholic reservations were set off into an agency, and the five
Protestant reservations were continued under the control of Mr. Eells,
whose head-quarters were moved to the Puyallup Reservation, near



The work has been about as follows: At Skokomish there were about two
hundred Indians, including a boarding-school of about twenty-five
children. Services were held every Sabbath morning for them in Indian.
The Sabbath-school was kept up, immediately following the morning
service. English services were held once or twice a month, on Sabbath
evening, for the white families resident at the agency and the
school-children. On Thursday evening a prayer-meeting was held
regularly. It was in English, as very few of the non-English-speaking
Indians lived near enough to attend an evening service, had they been so
inclined. Various other meetings were held, adapted to the capacities
and localities of the people: as prayer-meetings for school-boys, those
for school-girls, and those at the different logging-camps.

Thirty miles north of Skokomish is Seabeck, where about thirty Indians
live, most of whom gain a living by working in the saw-mill there. For
several years I preached to the whites at this place, about eight times
a year, and when there, also held a service with the Indians.

Twenty miles farther north is Port Gamble, one of the largest saw-mill
towns on the sound. Near it were about a hundred Clallam Indians, most
of whom became Catholics, but who have generally received me cordially
when I have visited them two or three times a year. They, however, have
obtained whiskey very easily, and between this and the Catholic
influence comparatively little has been accomplished.

Thirty-five miles farther on is Port Discovery, another saw-mill town,
where thirty or forty Indians have lived, whom I have often called to
see on my journeys; but so much whiskey has been sold near them and to
them, that it has been almost impossible to stop their drinking, and
hence, very difficult to make much permanent religious impression on
them. By death and removal for misconduct, their number has diminished
so that at one time there were only one or two families left. But the
opportunity for work at the mill has been so good that some of a fair
class have returned and bought land and settled down.

Forty miles from Port Gamble, and seventeen from Port Discovery, is
Jamestown, near Dunginess, on the Straits of Fuca. This is the center of
an Indian settlement of about a hundred and forty. Previous to 1873
these Indians were very much addicted to drinking--so much so, that the
white residents near them petitioned to have them removed to the agency,
a punishment they dreaded nearly as much as any other that could be
inflicted on them. The threat of doing this had such an influence that
about fifteen of them combined and bought two hundred acres of land. It
has been laid off into a village; most of the Indians have reformed, and
they have settled down as peaceable, industrious, moral persons. I have
generally visited them once in six months, and they have become the most
advanced of the Clallam tribe. A school has been kept among them, a
church organized, and their progress has been quite interesting--so much
so, that considerable space will be devoted to them in the following

Once a year I have calculated to go farther: and twenty miles beyond is
Port Angelos, with about thirty nominal Indian residents. But few of
them are settlers, and they are diminishing, only a few families being

Seven miles further west is Elkwa, the home of about seventy Indians. It
was, in years past, the residence of one of the most influential bands
of the Clallam tribe, but they are diminishing, partly from the fact
that there have been but few white families among them from whom they
could obtain work, and, with a few exceptions, they themselves have done
but little about cultivating the soil. As they could easily go across
the straits to Victoria in British Columbia, about twenty miles distant,
where there is little restraint in regard to their procuring whiskey,
because they are American Indians, they have been steadily losing
influence and numbers. Four or five families have homesteaded land, but
as it was impossible for them to procure good land on the beach, they
have gone back some distance and are scattered. Hence they lose the
benefits of church and school. Still the old way of herding together is
broken up, and they obtain more of their living from civilized pursuits.

Thirty-five miles farther is Clallam Bay, the home of about fifty more.
This is the limit of the Indians connected with the Skokomish Agency.
They are about a hundred and fifty miles from it, as we have to travel.
In 1880 they bought a hundred and sixty acres of land on the
water-front, and are slowly following the example of the Jamestown
Indians. This is the nearest station of the tribe to the seal-fisheries
of the north-west coast of the Territory; by far the most lucrative
business, in its season, which the Indians follow.




One great difficulty in the missionary work is the number of languages
used by the people. The Clallams have one, the Twanas another; about one
sixth of the people on the reservation had originally come from Squaxin,
and spoke the Nisqually; the Chinook jargon is an inter-tribal language,
which is spoken by nearly all the Indians, except the very old and very
young, as far south as Northern California, north into Alaska, west to
the Pacific Ocean, and east to Western Idaho. It was made by the early
traders, especially the Hudson’s Bay Company, out of Chinook, French,
and English words, with a few from several other Indian languages, for
use in trade. It serves very well for this purpose, and is almost
universally used in intercourse between the whites and Indians. Very few
whites, even when married to Indian women, have learned to talk any
Indian language except this. But it is not very good for conveying
religious instruction. It is too meager. Yet so many different languages
were spoken by the seven or eight hundred Indians connected with the
agency that it seemed to be the only practicable one, and I learned it.
I have learned to preach in it quite easily, and so that the Indians say
they understand me quite well. The Twana language would have been quite
useful, but it is said to be so difficult to learn that no intelligent
Indian advised me to learn it. The Nisqually is said to be much easier,
and one educated Indian advised me to learn it, but it did not seem to
me to be wise, for while nearly all the Twana Indians understood it, as,
in fact, nearly all the Indians on the upper sound do, yet it was spoken
by very few on the reservation.

Hence I have often used an interpreter while preaching on the Sabbath at
Skokomish, for then usually some whites, old Indians, and children were
present who could not understand Chinook. At other times and places I
constantly used the Chinook language. But a good interpreter is hard to
obtain. “It takes a minister to interpret for a minister,” was said when
Mr. Hallenback, the evangelist, went to the Sandwich Islands, and there
is much truth in it. The first interpreter I had was good at heart, but
he used the Nisqually language. While most of them understood it, yet
this person had learned it after he was grown, and spoke it, the Indians
said, much like a Dutchman does our language. Another one, a Twana, cut
the sentences short, so that one of the school-boys said he could have
hardly understood all that I said had he not understood English. A third
could do well when he tried, but too many times he felt out of sorts and
lazy, and would speak very low and without much life. Hence sometimes I
would feel like dismissing all interpreters, and talking in Chinook, but
then I was afraid that it would drive away the whites, who could not
understand it, but whose presence, for their examples’ sake, I much
desired. I feared also that it would drive away the very old ones, who
sometimes made much effort to come to church, and also that the
children, whose minds were the most susceptible to impressions, would
lose all that was said. So there were difficulties every way.

The medley of services and babel of languages of one Sabbath are
described as follows: The opening exercises were in English, after
which was the sermon, which was delivered in English, but translated
into the Nisqually language, and a prayer was offered in the same
manner. At the close of the service two infants were baptized in
English, when followed the communion service in the same language. At
this there were present twelve white members of the Congregational
church here, and one Indian; two white members of the Protestant
Methodist church; one Cumberland Presbyterian, and one other
Congregationalist. There were also present about seventy-five Indians as
spectators. The Sabbath-school was held soon after, seventy-five persons
being present. First, there were four songs in the Chinook jargon; then
three in English, accompanied by an organ and violin. The prayer was in
Nisqually, and the lesson was read by all in English, after which the
lessons were recited by the scholars. Five classes of Indian children
and two of white children were taught in English, and one class partly
in English and partly in Chinook jargon. There was one Bible-class of
Indian men who understood English, and were taught in that language, a
part of whom could read and a part of whom could not, and another of
about forty Indians of both sexes whose teacher talked English, but an
interpreter translated it into Nisqually; and then they did not reach
some Clallam Indians. Next followed a meeting of the Temperance Society,
as six persons wished to join it. A white man who could do so, wrote his
name, and five Indians who could not, touched the pen while the
secretary made their mark. Three of these were sworn in English and two
in Chinook. The whole services were interspersed with singing in English
and Chinook jargon.

This was soon after I came here. During the past year we have often sung
in English, Chinook jargon, Twana, and Nisqually, on the same Sabbath.
Another medley Sabbath is given under the head of the Jamestown Church,
in connection with its organization.


Another great difficulty in the way of their accepting Christianity is
their religion. The practical part of it goes by the name of
_ta-mah-no-us_, a Chinook word, and yet so much more expressive than any
single English word, or even phrase, that it has almost become
Anglicized. Like the _Wakan_ of the Dakotas, it signifies the
supernatural in a very broad sense. There are three kinds of it.

First. The Black Tamahnous. This is a secret society. During the
performance of the ceremonies connected with it, all the members black
their faces more or less, and go through a number of rites more savage
than any thing else they do. They do not tell the meaning of these, but
they consist of starving, washing, cutting themselves, violent dancing,
and the like. It was introduced among the Twanas from the Clallams, who
practised it with much more savage rites than the former tribe. It is
still more thoroughly practised by the Makahs of Cape Flattery, who join
the Clallams on the west. It was never as popular among the Twanas as
among some other Indians, and is now practically dead among them. It
still retains its hold among a portion of the Clallams, being practised
at their greatest gatherings. It is believed that it was intended to be
purifical, sacrificial, propitiatory.



Second. The Red, or Sing, Tamahnous. During the performance of its
ceremonies, they generally painted their faces red. It was their main
ceremonial religion. During the fall and winter they assembled, had
feasts, and performed these rites, danced and sang their sacred songs;
it might be for one night, or it might be for a week or so.


Sometimes this was done for the sake of purifying the soul from sin.
Sometimes in a vision a person professed to have seen the spirits of
living friends in the world of departed spirits, which was a sure sign
that they would die in a year or two, unless those spirits could be
brought back to this world. So they gathered together and with singing,
feasting, and many ceremonies, went in spirit to the other world and
brought these spirits back. This spirit-world is somewhere below, within
the earth. When they are ready to descend, with much ceremony a little
of the earth is broken, to open the way, as it were, for the descent.
Having traveled some distance below, they come to a stream which must be
crossed on a plank. Two planks are put up with one end on the ground and
the other on a beam in the house, about ten feet above the ground, in a
slanting direction, one on one side of the beam, and the other on the
other side, so that they can go up on one side and down on the other. To
do this is the outward form of crossing the spirit-river. If it is done
successfully, all is well, and they proceed on their


[The markings are of different colors. The wearer sees through the

journey. If, however, a person should actually fall from one of these
planks, it is a sure sign that he will die in a year or so. They
formerly believed this to be so, but about twelve years ago a man


did fall off, and did die within a year, so then they were certain of
it. Having come to the place of the departed spirits, they quietly hunt
for the spirits of their living friends, and when they find what other
spirits possess them, they begin battle and attempt to take them and are
generally successful. Only a few men descend to the spirit-world, but
during the fight the rest of the people present keep up a very great
noise by singing, pounding on sticks and drums, and in similar ways
encourage those engaged in battle. Having obtained the spirits which
they wish, they wrap them up or pretend to do so, so that they look like
a great doll, and bring them back to the world and deliver them to their
proper owners, who receive them with great joy and sometimes with tears
of gratitude.

At other times they go through other ceremonies somewhat different. This
form has now mostly ceased among the Twanas, but retains its hold among
a large share of the Clallams. The Christian Indians profess wholly to
have given it up.

Third. The Tamahnous for the sick. When a person is very sick, they
think that the spirit of some bad animal, as the crow, bluejay, wolf,
bear, or similar treacherous creature, has entered the individual and is
eating away the life. This has been sent by a bad medicine-man, and it
is the business of the good medicine-man to draw this out, and he
professes to do it with his incantations. With a few friends who sing
and pound on sticks, he works over the patient in various ways.

This is the most difficult belief for the Indian to abandon, for, while
there is a religious idea in it, there is also much of superstition
connected with it. As the Indian Agent at Klamath, Oregon, once wrote:
“It requires some thing more than a mere resolution of the will to
overcome it.” “I do not believe in it now,” said a Spokane Indian, “but
if I should become very sick, I expect I should want an Indian doctor.”
It will take time and education to eradicate this idea. It is the only
part of tamahnous, which I think an Indian can hold and be a Christian,
because it is held partly as a superstition and not wholly as a
religion. Some white, ignorant persons are superstitious and, at the
same time, are Christians. The bad spirit which causes the sickness is
called a bad tamahnous. Soon after I first came here, we spent several
evenings in discussing the qualifications of church membership, the main
difference of opinion centering on this subject of tamahnous over the
sick. I took the same position then that I do now, and facts seem to
agree thereto; for, among the Yakamas, Spokanes, and Dakotas, who have
stood as Christians many years through strong trials, have been some who
have not wholly abandoned it, it remaining apparently as a superstition
and not a religion.


As an illustration of the reason why they still believe in it, the
following examples are given:--

Chehalis Jack is one of the most intelligent and civilized of the older
uneducated Twana Indians. He has been one of those most ready to adopt
the customs and beliefs of the whites; has stood by the agent and
missionary in their efforts to civilize and Christianize his people when
very few other Indians have done so, and was one of the first of the
older Indians to unite with the church. He was a sub-chief, and tried to
induce his people to adopt civilized customs, setting them an example in
building by far the best house erected by the Indians on the
reservation, and in various other ways. He was told by some who opposed
civilization that because of this some enemy would send a bad tamahnous
into him and make him sick. In July, 1881, he was taken sick, evidently
with the rheumatism, or some thing of the kind, and the threats which he
had heard began to prey upon his mind, as he afterward said. Yet for six
weeks he lived at his home a mile from the agency, and would have
nothing to do with an Indian doctor. The agency physician attended him,
and his rheumatism seemed to leave him, but he did not get well and
strong. At last the physician said that he did not believe that any
physician could find what was the matter with him. After six weeks thus
spent, by the advice of friends he tried some Indian doctors on the
reservation, but some in whom he had little confidence. He grew worse.
He left the reservation for other Indian doctors, twenty miles away, who
said they could cure him, but he did not recover. He came back home, and
imported another Indian doctor from a hundred miles distant, but was not
cured. We were afraid that he would die, and it was plain to several
whites that he was simply being frightened to death. I had long talks
with him on the subject, and told him so, but could not convince him of
the truth of it. He said: “Tamahnous is true! Tamahnous is true! You
have told us it is not, but now I have experienced it, and it keeps me
sick.” During the winter the agency physician resigned, and another one
took his place in March, 1882. Jack immediately sent for him, but failed
to recover. By the advice of white friends, who thought they knew what
was the matter with him, he gave up his Indian doctor and tried patent
medicines for a time, but to no purpose. He left his home, and moved
directly to the agency, being very near us, having no Indian doctor.
Thus the summer passed away and fall came. Intelligent persons had
sometimes said that if he could be made to do some thing his strength
would soon return to him, and he would find that he was not very sick.
He had had fourteen cords of wood cut on the banks of the Skokomish
River. There was no help that he could obtain to bring the wood to his
house except a boy and an old man. He was much afraid that the rains
would come, the river would rise, and carry off his wood. He left the
agency and returned to his home, and had to help in getting his wood.
About the same time he employed another Indian doctor in whom he seemed
to have considerable confidence, and between the fact of his being
obliged to work and his confidence in the Indian doctor, he recovered.
It was the effect of the influence of the mind over the body. The
principles of mental philosophy could account for it all, but he was not
versed in those principles, and so thoroughly believes that a bad
tamahnous was in him and that Old Cush, the Indian doctor, drew it out.
Since that time he has worked nobly for civilization and
Christianity--but his belief in tamahnous still remains in him. When the
question of his joining the church came up, as nothing else stood in the
way, I could not make up my mind that this superstition ought to do so,
and after two and a half years of church membership the results have
been such that I am satisfied that the decision was wise.


She was a school-girl, about sixteen years of age, and had been in the
boarding-school for several years, nearly ever since she had been old
enough to attend, but her parents were quite superstitious. One Friday
evening she went home to remain until the Sabbath, but on Saturday, the
first of January, 1881, she was taken sick, and the nature of her
sickness was such that in a few days she became delirious. Her parents
and friends made her believe that a bad tamahnous had been put into her,
and no one but an Indian doctor could cure her. They tamahnoused over
her some. The agency physician, Dr. Givens, was not called until the
sixth, when he left some medicine for her, but it is said that it was
not given to her. Hence she got no better, and her friends declared that
the white doctor was killing her. The agent and teacher did not like the
way the affair was being manœuvered, took charge of her, moved her to a
decent house near by, and placed white watchers with her, so that the
proper medicine should be given, and no Indian doctor brought in. The
Indians were, however, determined, if possible, to tamahnous, and
declared that if it were not allowed, she would die at three o’clock
A.M. They kept talking to her about it and she apparently believed it,
and said she would have tamahnous. But it was prevented, and before the
time set for her death, she was cured of her real sickness. But she was
not well. Still the next day she was in such a condition that it was
thought safe to move her in a boat to the boarding-house, where she
could be more easily cared for. The Indians were enraged and said that
she would die before landing, but she did not. Watchers were kept by her
constantly, but the Indians were allowed to see her. They talked,
however, to her so much about her having a bad tamahnous, that all
except her parents were forbidden to see her. They also were forbidden
to talk on the subject, and evidently obeyed. But the effect on her
imagination had been so great that, for a time, she often acted
strangely. She seldom said any thing; she would often spurt out the
medicine, when given her, as far as she could; said she saw the
tamahnous; pulled her mother’s hair, bit her mother’s finger so that it
bled, seemed peculiarly vexed at her; moaned most of the time, but
sometimes screamed very loudly, and even bit a spoon off. Sometimes she
talked rationally and sometimes she did not. But by the fifteenth she
was considerably better, walked around with help, and sat up, when told
to do so, but did not seem to take any interest in any thing. Every
thing possible was done to interest her and occupy her attention, and
she continued to grow better for three or four days more, so that the
watchers were dispensed with, except that her parents slept in the room
with her. But one night she threw off the clothes, took cold, and would
not make any effort to cough and clear her throat; and on the
twenty-second, she died, actually choking to death. It was a tolerably
clear case of death from imagination, easily accounted for on the
principles of mental philosophy, but the Indians had never studied it,
and still believe that a bad tamahnous killed her. I was afraid that
this death would cause trouble, or, at least, that a strong influence
against Christianity would result from it, but the certificates of
allotment to their land came just at that time, which pleased them so
much that the affair was smoothed over.

These and some other instances somewhat similar, though not quite so
marked, have led me to make some allowances for the older Indians, which
I would not make for whites. With small children, who were too young to
have any such belief in tamahnous, I know of not a single instance like
these mentioned. Indeed, the Indian doctors have been among the most
unfortunate in losing their children, several of them having lost from
five to ten infants each.

Some of the older uneducated Indians with the most advanced ideas have
said lately that they were ready to give up all Indian doctors, and all
tamahnous for the sick; still they would not acknowledge but that there
was some spirit in the affair, but they said it was a bad spirit, of
which the devil was the ruler, and they wished to have nothing to do
with it.

One woman, as she joined the church, wished to let me have her tamahnous
rattles, made of deer hoofs, for she said she was a Christian, had
stopped her tamahnous, and would not want them any more. Still she
thought that a spirit dwelt in them, only she thought it was a bad
spirit. Hence she was afraid to have them remain in her house, for fear
the spirit would injure her; for the same reason she was afraid to throw
them away; she was for the same reason afraid to give them to any of
her friends, even to those far away, and so she thought that the best
thing that could be done with them was to let me take them, for she
thought I could manage them. I was willing, and prize them highly
because of the reason through which I obtained them.

Other points in their religious belief did not stand so much in the way
of Christianity. They believe in the existence of a Supreme Being,
though very different from that of the whites--so much so, that the
latter has not received the name of the former; in a Deity called
Do-ki-batl by the Twanas, and Nu-ki-matl by the Clallams, who became
incarnate and did many wonderful things; in man’s sinfulness and
immortality; in the creation, renovation, and government of the world by
their great Beings; in a flood, or deluge, the tradition of which has
enough similarity to that of the Bible to make me believe that it refers
to the same: while it has so much nonsense in it as to show that they
did not receive it from the whites; in thanksgiving, prayer, sacrifices,
and purification; in a place of happiness for the soul after death,
situated somewhere within the earth, and in a place of future
punishment, also situated within the earth. The Clallams believed that
the Sun was the Supreme Deity, or that he resided in the sun, but I have
never been able to discover any such belief among the Twanas. They
believe that the spirits dwell in sticks and stones at times, and I have
seen one rough idol among the Twanas.


The more prominent of these are gambling, betting, horse-racing,
potlatches, and intemperance.

Gambling is conducted in three different native ways, and many of the
Indians have also learned to play cards. The betting connected with
horse-racing belongs to the same sin. Horse-racing has not been much of
a temptation to the Clallams because they own very few horses, their
country being such that they have had but little use for them. Nearly
all of their travel is by water. The Twanas have had much more
temptation in this respect.

One of the native ways of gambling belongs to the women, the other to
the men: but there is far less temptation for the women to gamble than
there is for the men, because summer and winter, day-time and evening,
there is always something for them to do. But with the men it is
different. The rainy season and the long winter evenings hang heavily on
their hands, for they have very little indoor work. They can not read,
and hence the temptation to gamble is great.

[Illustration: GAMBLING BONES.]

One mode of gambling by the men is with small round wooden disks about
two inches in diameter. There are ten in a set, one of which is marked.
Under cover they are divided, part of them under one hand and the rest
under the other, are shuffled around, concealed under cedar-bark, which
is beaten up fine, and the object of the other party is to guess under
which hand the marked disk is.

The other game of the men is with small bones, two inches long and a
half an inch in diameter, or sometimes they are two and a half inches
long and an inch in diameter. Sometimes only one of the small ones is
used, and sometimes two, one of which is marked. They are passed very
quickly back and forth from one hand to the other, and the object is for
the opposite party to guess in which hand the marked one is. An
accompaniment is kept up by the side which is playing by singing and
pounding on a large stick with smaller ones. With both of these games
occasionally the large drum is brought in, and tamahnous songs are sung,
so as to invoke the aid of their guardian spirits.


In the women’s game usually four beaver’s teeth are used, which have
peculiar markings. They are rapidly thrown up, and the way in which they
fall determines the number of counts belonging to the party playing. The
principle is somewhat the same as with a game of dice. Formerly they bet
large sums, sometimes every thing they owned, even to all the clothes
they had, but it has not been the custom of late years. When Agent Eells
first came to Skokomish, under orders from the Superintendent of Indian
Affairs he tried to break up the gambling entirely, but there were
hardly any Indians to sustain him in the effort. They would conceal
themselves and gamble, do so by night, or go off from the reservation
where he had no control, and carry on the game--so for a time he had to
allow it, with some restrictions; that is, that the bets must be small,
the games not often, but generally only on the Fourth of July, at great
festivals, and the like. Occasionally they have had a grand time by
gathering about all the Indians on the reservation together, both men
and women, and perhaps for four days and nights, with very little sleep,
have kept up the game.

On account of their want of employment in the winter and their inability
to read, probably the sinfulness of this sin is not so great with them
as with whites. Some good, prominent Indian workers have thought that it
was hardly right to proscribe a Christian Indian from gambling. I
learned of one Protestant church which admitted Indians without saying
any thing on this subject, but which tried to stop it after they were in
the church; but I could never bring myself to think that a church full
of gambling Indians was right, and this became one of the test questions
with the men in regard to admittance into the church.

When I first saw the infatuation the game possessed for them I felt that
nothing but the gospel of Christ would ever stop it. Among the Clallams
off of the reservation none except the Christians have given it up. On
the reservation within the


40 ft. x 200.]

last few years so many of the Indians have become Christians that public
opinion has frowned on it, and there is very little, if any, of it,
though some of the Indians who do not profess to be Christians, when
they visit other Indians, will gamble, although they do not when at

The _Potlatch_ is the greatest festival that the Indian has. It is a
Chinook word, and means “to give,” and is bestowed as a name to the
festival because the central idea of it is a distribution of gifts by a
few persons to the many present whom they have invited. It is generally
intertribal, from four hundred to two thousand persons being present,
and from one to three, or even ten, thousand dollars in money, blankets,
guns, canoes, cloth, and the like are given away. There is no regularity
to the time when they are held. Three have been held at Skokomish within
fifteen years, each one being given by different persons, and during the
same time, as far as I know, a part or all of the tribe have been
invited to nine others, eight of which some of them have attended.

The mere giving of a present by one person to another, or to several, is
not in itself sinful, but this is carried to such an extreme at these
times that the morality of that part of them becomes exceedingly
questionable. In order to obtain the money to give they deny themselves
so much for years, live in old houses and in so poor a way, that the
self-denial becomes an enemy to health, comfort, civilization, and
Christianity. If they would take the same money, buy and improve land,
build good houses, furnish them, and live decently, it would be far

But while two or three days of the time spent at them is occupied in
making presents, the rest of the time, from three days to two and a half
weeks, is spent in gambling, red and black tamahnous, and other wicked
practices, and the temptation to do wrong becomes so great that very few
Indians can resist it.

When some of the Alaska Indians, coveting the prosperity which the
Christian Indians of that region had acquired, asked one of these
Christians what they must do in order to become Christians, the reply
was: “First give up your potlatches.” It was felt that there was so much
evil connected with them that they and Christianity could not flourish
together. Among the Twanas, while they are not dead, they are largely on
the wane. Among a large part of the Clallams they still flourish.

Intemperance is a besetting sin of Indians, and it is about as much a
besetting sin of some whites to furnish intoxicating liquors to the
Indians. The laws of the United States and of Washington Territory are
stringent against any body’s furnishing liquor to the Indians, but for a
time previous to 1871 they had by no means been strictly enforced. As
the intercourse of the Indians with the whites was often with a low
class, who were willing to furnish liquor to them, they grew to love it,
so that in 1871 the largest part of the Indians had learned to love
liquor. Its natural consequences, fighting, cutting, shooting, and
accidental deaths, were frequent.



In 1871 the agent began to enforce the laws against the selling of
liquor to the Indians, and, according to a rule of the Indian
Department; he also punished the Indians for drinking. Missionary
influence went hand in hand with his work, and good results have
followed. For years very few Indians on the reservation have been known
to be drunk. Punishment upon the liquor-drinker as well as the
liquor-seller has had a good effect. Far more of the Clallams drink than
of the Twanas. They live so far from the agent that he can not know of
all their drinking, and, if he did, he could not go to arrest them all;
and many of them live so close to large towns where liquor is very
easily obtained, that it has been impossible to stop all of their
drinking. Still his occasional visits, the aid of a few white men near
them, and of the better Indians, together with what they see of the evil
effects of intemperance on themselves, have greatly checked the evil.
Very few complete reformations, however, have taken place among those
away from the reservation, except those who have become Christians. In
addition, a good share of the younger ones have grown up with so much
less temptation than their parents had, and so much more influence in
favor of temperance, that they have become teetotalers.

For a long time, beginning with 1874, a temperance society flourished,
and nearly all the Indians of both tribes joined it. Each member signed
the pledge under oath, and took that pledge home to keep, but in time it
was found that the society had no penalty with which to punish offenders
sufficient to make them fear much to do so again. The agent alone had
that power--so the society died. But the law and gospel did not tire in
the work and something has been accomplished.

The agent could tell many a story of prosecuting liquor-sellers;
sometimes before a packed jury, who, when the proof was positive,
declared the prisoner not guilty; of having Indian witnesses tampered
with, and bought either by money or threats, so that they would not
testify in court, although to him they had previously given direct
testimony as to who had furnished them with the liquor; of a time when
some of the Clallam Indians became so independent of his authority that
they defied him when he went to arrest them, and he was obliged to use
the revenue-cutter in order to take them, and when, in consequence, his
friends feared that his life was in danger from the white
liquor-sellers, because the latter feared the result of their
lawlessness; of a judge who, although a Christian man, so allowed his
sympathies to go out for the criminal that he would strain the law to
let him go; or, on the other hand, of another judge who would strain the
law to catch a rascal; of convicting eight white men at one time of
selling liquor to Indians, only to have some of them take their revenge
by burning the Indians’ houses and all of their contents. Still in a few
years he made it very unsafe for most permanent residents to sell
intoxicating liquors to the Indians, so that but few except transient
people, as sailors and travelers, dared to do so.

“For ways that are dark and tricks that are vain” the Indian and the
liquor-seller can almost rival the “heathen Chinee.” A saloon is on the
beach, and so high that it is easy to go under it. A small hole is in
the floor under the counter. A hand comes up with some money in it:
after dark a bottle goes down, and some Indians are drunk, but nobody
can prove any thing wrong.

An Indian takes a bucket of clams into a saloon and asks the bar-tender
if he wishes them. “I will see what my wife says,” is the reply, and he
takes them to a back room. Soon he comes back and says: “Here, take your
old clams, they are bad and rotten.” The Indian takes them, and soon a
company of Indians are “gloriously drunk,” a bottle having been put in
the bottom of the bucket. Sometimes a part of a sack of flour is made of
a bottle of whiskey.

An Indian, having been taken up for drunkenness, was asked in court, in
Port Townsend, where he obtained his liquor. “If I tell, I can not get
any more,” was the blunt reply. Others have found theirs floating in the
river or lying by a tree, which may all have been true, yet some man who
understood it was the gainer of some money, which perhaps he found. Many
an Indian, when asked who let him have the liquor, has said: “I do not
know;” or, “I do not know his name.”

Yet there are stories on the other side which make a brighter picture.
In 1875 the Twana and Nisqually Indians met as they had often done
during previous years for feasting, visiting, trading, and horse-racing.
The first agreement was to meet on the Skokomish Reservation, but
continued rains made the race-track on the reservation almost unfit for
use, it being bottom land. There was another track on gravelly land
about ten miles from Skokomish. On the Sabbath previous to the races the
sermon had reference to the subject, because of the betting and danger
of drunkenness connected with it. A Nisqually Indian came then and urged
the Skokomish Indians to go to the other race-track at Shelton’s
Prairie, because the one at Skokomish was so muddy. The Skokomish
Indians replied that they did not wish to go to the prairie for fear
there would be whiskey there, but that they would go to work and fix
their own track as well as they could. One sub-chief, the only one of
the chiefs who had a race-horse, said he would not go there. This word
was carried to the Nisqually Indians who were camped at the prairie, but
they refused to come to Skokomish, and sent their messenger to tell the
Skokomish Indians so. Several hours were occupied in discussing the
question. In talking with the agent, the head-chief asked him if he
would send one of the employees to guard them, should they decide to go
to the prairie. The head-chief then went to the prairie and induced the
Nisquallys to come to the reservation for the visit, trading, and
marriage, which was to take place, and for the races if the track should
be suitable. From Wednesday until Saturday was occupied by the Indians
as agreed upon, but the weather continued rainy and the track was unfit
for use. On Saturday the Nisqually Indians went back to the prairie and
invited the Skokomish Indians to go there for the races. On Monday
twenty-five or thirty of them went, but this number did not include a
chief or many of the better class, the great fear being that they would
be tempted to drink. According to the request of the chief, one white
man from the reservation went, together with the regular Indian
policemen. There were also present ten or twelve other white men from
different places, one of whom carried considerable liquor. The Indian
policemen on seeing this went to him and told him he must not sell or
give any of it to any of the Indians, and he promised that he would not.
He was afterward seen offering some to a Nisqually Indian, who refused.
When night came it was found that, with three or four exceptions, all of
the white men present had drank some, and a few were quite drunk, while
it was not known that any of the Indians present had taken any. That the
better class of Indians should not go to the races, and that all should
earnestly contend against going to that place for fear of temptation;
that they asked for a white man to guard them; that an Indian told a
white man not to give liquor to his fellow-Indians, and that, while most
of the white men drank some, it was not known that any Indian drank at
all, although it was not the better class of Indians who were present,
were facts which were encouraging.

A sub-chief of the Clallam Indians, at Elkwa, one hundred and twenty
miles from the reservation, in 1878, found that an Indian from British
Columbia had brought a keg of liquor among his people. He immediately
complained before a justice of the peace, who arrested the guilty man,
emptied his liquor on the ground, and fined him sixty-four dollars.

The head-chief of the Clallams, Lord James Balch, has for nine years so
steadily opposed drinking, and imprisoned and fined the offenders so
much, that he excited the enmity of the Indians, and even of their
doctors, and also of some white men, much as a good Indian agent does.
Although he is not perfect, he still continues the good work. Fifteen
years ago he was among the worst Indians about, drinking, cutting, and

In January, 1878, I was asked to go ninety miles, by both Clallams and
Twanas, to a potlatch, to protect them from worthless whites and
Indians, who were ready to take liquor to the place. The potlatch was at
Dunginess, given by some Clallams. I went, in company with about
seventy-five Twanas, and it was not known that more than eight of them
had tasted liquor within four years, although none of them professed to
be Christians. During that festival, which continued nine days, and
where more than five hundred Indians were present, only one Indian was

More than once a whiskey-bottle has been captured from an Indian, set
out in view of all on a stump or box, a temperance speech made and a
temperance hymn sung, the bottle broken into many pieces, and the
contents spilled on the ground.

The Indians say that the Hudson’s Bay Company first brought it to them,
but dealt it out very sparingly, but when the Americans came they
brought barrels of it. They seem to be proud that it is not the Indians
who manufacture it, for if it were they would soon put a stop to it; nor
is it the believer in God, but wicked white men who wish to clear them
away as trees are cleared from the ground.

Thus, when we take into consideration the condition of these Indians
fifteen years ago, and the present condition of some other Indians in
the region who lie beastly drunk in open sight, and compare it with the
present status of those now here, there is reason for continued faith in
the God of the law and gospel of temperance.



Logging, farming in a small way, and work as day-laborers, have been the
chief means of civilized labor among the men on the reservation. A large
share of their land is first-class, rich bottom land, though all was
covered originally with timber. It had been surveyed, assigned to the
different heads of families, and certificates of allotment from the
government issued to them. Nearly all of them have from one to ten acres
cleared, most of which is in hay.

Still when there has been a market for logs at the neighboring
saw-mills, they have preferred that work, not because there is more
money in it, for actually there is less, but because they get the money
quicker. It comes when the logs are sold, generally within three months
after they begin a boom. But in regard to their land, they must work
some time after they begin to clear it, before it is done; then a year
or two longer, before they can obtain much of a crop of hay from it.
Hence it has been up-hill work to induce most of them to do much work
at clearing land. For several years before their annuities ceased, in
1881, the government made a rule that no able-bodied man should receive
any annuities until he had performed labor on his land equal in value to
the amount he should receive. From the example of the few adjoining
settlers, some are beginning to see that farming is more profitable than
logging. The largest share of good timber on the reservation has been
taken off during the past twenty years, so that now a number have bought
timber off the reservation for logging. They own their own teams, keep
their own time-books, and at present attend to all their own business in
connection with these camps. In one respect they differ from white
folks--in their mode of conducting the business. Instead of one or two
men owning every thing, hiring the men, paying all expenses, and taking
all the profits, they combine together and unitedly share the profits or
losses. When the boom is sold, and all necessary expenses which have
been incurred are paid, they divide the money among themselves according
to the amount of work each has done. A few have tried to carry on camps
as white people do, but have always failed.

Very few now pursue the old avocations of fishing and hunting, except
the old ones. Nearly all the able-bodied men work at some civilized
pursuit. Take a ride over the reservation on almost any pleasant day,
and nearly all the men will be found to be busy at something.

In the winter, however, it is different. They have very little work for
rainy days, and so there is more temptation to gamble and tamahnous.
“Satan finds some mischief still for idle hands to do.”

The women have less temptation than the men in winter. When they have no
outdoor work, or it is stormy, they can sew, do housework, make mats and
baskets, and all, even the very old ones, are commonly busy at some of
these things. Some of them are good washerwomen and some are cooks in
the logging-camps. They are by no means so near in a state of slavery as
some Indian women in the interior, but are treated with considerable
propriety by their husbands.

A few of the young men, after having been in school for a time, have
been apprenticed to the trades of carpenter, blacksmith, and farmer, and
have done so fairly, that they were employed by the government after the
white employees were discharged.

The Clallams have done very little logging or farming. A number have
obtained land at Port Discovery, Jamestown, Elkwa, and Clallam Bay, but
only a little of it is first-class land, and they have used it for
gardens and as a place for a permanent home, so that they should not be
driven from one place to another, more than for farming. At Seabeck,
Port Gamble, Port Townsend, and Port Discovery, they work quite
constantly in the saw-mills; at Jamestown, for the surrounding farmers;
at Port Angeles, Elkwa, and Clallam Bay, more of them hunt and fish than
elsewhere. A number earn considerable money taking freight and
passengers in their canoes. The obtaining of dog-fish oil is something
of a business, as logging-camps use a large amount of it. In September
there is employment at the Puyallup and surrounding region, about ninety
miles from Skokomish, in picking hops. Hop-raising has grown to be a
large business among the whites, and Indians have been preferred for
picking the hops, thousands of whom flock there every year for the
purpose, from every part of the Sound, and even from British Columbia
and the Yakama country. Old people, women, and children do as well at
this as able-bodied men. It has not, however, always been a healthy
place for their morals, as on Sundays and evenings gambling, betting,
and horse-racing have been largely carried on. At one time “The Devil’s
Playground,” in the Puyallup Valley was noted as the place where Indians
and low whites gathered on the Sabbath for horse-racing and gambling,
but it became such a nuisance to the hop-growers, as well as to the
agents, that they combined and closed it.

A part of the Clallams earn considerable money by sealing, off the
north-west coast of the Territory, a very profitable business generally
from January to May. In 1883 the taxes of those Clallams who live in
Clallam County were $168.30.



“The plow and the Bible go together in civilizing Indians,” is the
remark of Rev. J. H. Wilbur, who for more than twenty years was one of
the most successful workers among them: but neither Indians nor whites
feel much like clearing land and plowing it unless they feel sure that
the land is theirs.

When the treaty was made in 1855 it was the understanding that whenever
the Indians should settle down on the reservation, adopt civilized
habits, and clear a few acres of land, good titles would be given to
them by the government. With this understanding, not long after Agent
Eells took charge, he had the reservation surveyed and divided, so that
each head of a family whose home was on the reservation should have a
fair portion. He gave them papers, signed by himself, in 1874,
describing the land, with the expectation that the government in a short
time would give them good titles, he having been thus assured by his
superiors in office. Other agents did the same. But new movements by
the government with reference to the Indians are usually very slow, as
they have no votes, and this was no exception. Agent Eells, as well as
others, plead and plead time and again, to have this stipulation in the
treaty fulfilled, but for a long time to no purpose. Often he had no
reply to his letters. People of both political parties put this as a
plank into their platform; those of all religions and no religion; those
who opposed the peace policy as well as those who favored it, signed
petitions to this effect, but in vain. This delay was the source of much
uneasiness to the Indians, more, I think, than any other cause, for men
were not wanting who told them that they would be moved away; there were
plenty of people who coveted their land, and examples were not wanting
of Indians who had been moved from place to place by the government. It
has been the only thing which has ever caused them to talk about war.
Some Indians left the reservation because they feared they would be
moved away. “I am not going to clear land and fence it for the whites to
use,” was what one said and others felt.

When the treaty was made it was believed by the Indians that they
possessed all the land, and that they sold all except the reservation,
to which they supposed they had a good title, at least as good as the
United States had, and white people believed the same; but a decision of
the Supreme Court of the United States in 1873 reversed this idea, and
they learned that they had sold all the land, and that government
graciously allowed them to stay on the reservation according to its
will. In the spring of 1875 they were forbidden to cut a log and sell it
off of the reservation, and found that they had no rights to the land
which the government was bound to respect, but if she wished to remove
them at any time she could do so.

The question came up early in missionary work. The Indians said: “You
profess to be Christians, and you have promised us titles to our land.
If these titles come we will believe your religion to be true, but if
not it will be evidence that you are deceiving us.”

The agent worked nobly for the object, but receiving no reply for a long
time he grew almost discouraged. He could work in only one way, by
writing to his first superior officer, hoping that he would successfully
press the subject upon those more influential.

About this time, in 1878, I determined to see what I could do through
another channel: through the Board of Indian Commissioners, where
missionaries would naturally look. Accordingly, in May, a long letter
was written to the secretary of the American Missionary Association, and
his influence was invoked to work upon the Board. He gladly did so. At
the annual meeting of the Congregational Association of Oregon and
Washington, in June of the same year, I plead strongly for the same
object, whereupon a committee of five of the influential men of the
denomination was appointed, who drafted strong resolutions, which were
passed and sent to the Board of Commissioners. The fact that the Bannack
Indians of Eastern Oregon were then engaged in a war with the whites,
and that they had attempted to induce the Indians of Puget Sound to
assist in it, was an argument used, and of no small weight. I intended
to urge the passage of similar resolutions through the Presbytery of
Puget Sound, and the Methodist Episcopal Conference of Oregon, both of
whom had missions among the Indians, and were asking for similar favors
from the government; but before those bodies met I received a letter
from Hon. D. H. Jerome, of the Board of Commissioners, who had been
appointed a committee by that Board in regard to titles of Indians to
their lands, promising to press the matter upon the department until
titles should be issued, or a good reason given for not doing so, and
requesting a description of the lands for which titles were asked. I
gave the letter to the agent, who had the desired information, and who
quickly gave it. The Board nobly fulfilled its promise, and in March,
1881, certificates of allotment were sent to the Indians. They were not
wholly satisfactory. The title to the land still remained in the United
States. They said that each Indian is entitled to take possession of his
land, “and the United States guarantees such possession, and will hold
the title thereto in trust for the exclusive use and benefit of himself
and his heirs so long as such occupancy shall continue.” It prohibited
them from selling the land to any one except other members of the same

These certificates, however, proved to be better than was at first
feared. It was decided that under them the Indians had a right to sell
the timber from the land. The Indians were satisfied that they would not
be removed, and were quieted.

Efforts are still being made to obtain the patents, and with
considerable hope of success, as they have been granted to Indians on
three other reservations on Puget Sound through the efforts of Agent
Eells, but owing to various causes they have not been obtained as yet
for the Skokomish Indians.

The Clallam Indians have bought their land or taken it by homestead, and
so have not had the same difficulty in regard to titles. One incident,
however, occurred which was rather discouraging. Four of the Clallam Bay
Indians, in 1879, determined to secure, if possible, the land on which
their houses stood. They were sent to the clerk of the Probate Court,
who knew nothing about the land, but told them that it belonged to the
government, and offered to get it for the usual fee, nineteen dollars
each. They paid him the seventy-six dollars, and he promised to send it
to the land-office and have their papers for them in two weeks. They
waited the two weeks but no papers came. In the meantime they learned
that the man was not to be trusted, although he could lawfully attend to
the business, and that the land had been owned by private individuals
for fifteen years. He, too, on writing to the land-office, found the
same to be true. But the difficulty was to get the money back. This man
was an inveterate gambler, and the evidence was quite plain that he had
gambled the money off very soon after he received it. I saw him soon
afterward, and he told me that it had been stolen, that he would soon
get it, and the like. One Indian spent three weeks, and two others two
weeks each, in trying to recover it, but failed to do so. Then the agent
took it into court, but through an unjust ruling of the judge, or a
catch in the law, he was neither compelled to pay it nor punished for
his deed. The Indians received about the amount they lost, as witness
fees and mileage for their attendance on court. Yet that man, at that
time, was also postmaster, United States commissioner, and deputy
sheriff, and had offered fifty dollars to the county treasurer, to be
appointed his deputy.

This was a strange contrast to the action of the Indians. I felt very
sorry for them. For four years we had been advising them to obtain land,
and they were swindled in their first attempt. When I saw them, before
the case was taken to the court, I was fearful lest they should become
discouraged, and offered them ten dollars, saying, “If you never get
your money, I will lose this with you: but if you do obtain it, you can
then repay me.” One tenth of my income has long been given to the Lord,
and I felt that thus much would do as much good here as anywhere. When I
first mentioned this to them, they refused to take it, saying that they
did not wish me to lose my money, if they did theirs; but two weeks
later, when I left the last one of them, he reluctantly took it.



In 1874 most of the Indians of both tribes lived on the ground, in the
smoke, in their large houses, where several families resided. That year
the agent induced those on the reservation to receive lumber as a part
of their annuity goods, and the government carpenter erected small
frame-houses for most of them, but left them to cover and batten the
houses. They were slow to do so. At first they used them to live in
during the summer, but during the winter they found these houses too
open and cold and returned to their smoke-houses. It was two or three
years before they made them warm enough to winter in them, but since
that time nearly all, except a few of the very old ones, have lived off
of the ground and out of the smoke. Although the government gave no aid
to those living off of the reservation to build them homes, yet about
three fourths of them have built for themselves similar or better
houses. Many of them have lived near saw-mills where they could easily
get lumber for their houses.

All of them dress in citizen’s clothes, and they obtain about three
quarters of their living from civilized labor, and the rest by fishing
and hunting, supposing that hunting and fishing are not civilized
pursuits. Many of them have sewing-machines, bureaus, and lace curtains,
while clocks and watches, chairs, bedsteads, and dishes, tables, knives
and forks are very common.

_Neatness._--It is easier to induce them to have good houses, with board
floors, than to keep them clean. Grease is spilled on the floor, and,
mingling with the dirt, sometimes makes the air very impure. The men are
careless, bring in dirt, and spit on the floor; the women are sometimes
lazy, or else, after trying, become discouraged about keeping the house

This impure air has been the cause of the death of many of their
children. They breathe the poison, and at last waste away. The older
ones are strong and can endure some of it, and, moreover, are in the
pure air outdoors much of the time. But the little ones are kept in the
house, are so weak that they can not endure such air, and they die. The
old Indian houses on the ground had, at least, two advantages over the
board floors, although they had more disadvantages. The ground absorbed
the grease, as boards can not; and, if the houses became too bad, they
could easily be torn down and moved a few yards away to a better place.
But good houses are too costly for this.

Time, teaching, and example have, however, worked some changes for the
better. There are many of the Indian women who wash, at least, the
floors of their front rooms every week. Still the bedrooms, which are
not likely to be seen, are often topsy-turvy, and the kitchens often
have a bad smell, and the back door needs lime and ammonia.
Occasionally, however, a house is found where there is a fair degree of
neatness all the way through.



White people do not usually take kindly to the jaw-breaking Indian
names, hence a “Boston” name has generally been given them. But the
white men who lived around Skokomish were mostly loggers, who among
themselves went by the name of Tom, Jack, Jim, and the like, and seldom
put Mr. to any body’s name. As the Indians mingled with them they
received similar names, and as there soon came to be several of the same
name, they were distinguished by some prefix, usually derived from some
characteristic--their size, or the place from which they came. So we had
Squaxon Bill, Chehalis Jack, Dr. Bob, Big John, Little Billy, and the
like. These were bad enough, but when their children came to take these
as their surnames, they sometimes became comical, for we had Sally Bob,
Dick Charley, and Sam Pete. Therefore, we soon found that it was best to
give every school-child a decent name, and Bill’s son George became
George Williams, and John’s boy became Henry Johnson, and Billy’s
daughter was Minnie Williamson, and so on. At first, when the older ones
were married, it was done with the old Indian nickname, but I soon
thought that if in time they were to become Americans they might as well
have decent names. So, at their first legal recognition, as at their
marriage, baptism, or on entering school, they received names of which
they had no need to be ashamed in after years.



This has been conducted entirely by the government, but generally in
such a way as to be a handmaid to religion. On the reservation a
boarding-school has been kept up during the ten years of missionary
labor, as well as many years before, for about ten months in the year.
About half of the time, including the winter, the school has been kept
six hours in the day, and during the rest of the time for three hours;
the scholars being required to work the other half of the day--the boys
in the garden getting wood and the like, and the girls in the house
sewing, cooking, house-keeping, and doing similar things.

The position of the one in charge has been a difficult one to fill, for
it has been necessary that the man be a teacher, disciplinarian, handy
at various kinds of work, a Christian, and, during the last year and a
half after the agent left, he had charge of the reservation; while it
was almost as necessary that his wife be matron, with all the
qualifications of taking care of a family of from twenty to forty. It
has been difficult to find all these qualifications in one man and his
wife, who were willing to take the position for the pay which the
government was willing to give, for during the later years the pay was
cut down to the minimum. It has not been strange that with all the
burdens frequent changes have taken place. There have been seven
teachers in the ten years, but most of them were faithful, some of them
serving until their health failed. Yet the school has been carried on
generally in as Christian a way as if the Missionary Society had had
charge of it. All of the teachers and their wives have been
Christians--not all Congregationalists; for it has been often impossible
to obtain such; in fact, only three have been; but there has been a
plain understanding with the others that they should teach nothing in
regard to religion which conflicted with the teachings from the
pulpit--an understanding which has been faithfully kept, with one
exception. In 1874 the school numbered about twenty-four scholars, but
it gradually increased until it numbered about forty, which was more
than all the children of school age on the reservation, though it did
not include many of the Clallams. They were so far away that it was not
thought wise to compel them to remain so steadily so far away from their
parents year after year.

The school has been a boarding-school, for nearly all the children lived
from one to three miles away, and it has been impossible to secure any
thing like regular attendance if they lived at home, while some have
come from ten to seventy miles distant.

Attendance on school has been compulsory--the proper way among Indians.
While the parents speak well about the school, and say that they wish to
have their children educated, yet, when the children beg hard to stay at
home, parental government is not strong enough to enforce attendance,
especially as long as the parents do not _realize_ the value of
education. The children have not all liked to go to school, and at first
some of them ran away. The agent and his subordinates could tell some
stories of getting runaway children, by pulling them out of their beds,
taking them home in the middle of the night, and the like. In this
respect the government had the advantage of a missionary society, which
could not have compelled the children to attend school.

There was no provision in the treaty for more than one school, and that
on the reservation. But after the Clallams at Jamestown had bought their
land, laid out their village, built their church, and become somewhat
civilized, they plead so hard for a school, offering the use of the
church-building for the purpose, that the government listened to them,
and in 1878 sent them a teacher. This was a day-school, because funds
enough were furnished to pay only a teacher, and nearly all the children
lived in the village within less than a half-mile from the school. A
very few of the children walked daily five or six miles to school, and
some of the better families of the village did nobly in making
sacrifices to board their relations, when the parents would not furnish
even the food for their children. This school has varied in numbers from
fifteen to thirty children, and has been conducted in other respects
mainly on the same principles as the one on the reservation. It has been
of great advantage to the settlement.

A few of the rest of the Clallam children, whose parents were Catholics,
have sent their children to a boarding-school at Tulalip, a Catholic
agency, and others have not gone to school, there being difficulties in
the way which it has been almost or quite impossible to overcome.

The schools have been conducted entirely in English. This is the only
practicable plan, for the tribes connected with the school speak three
different languages, and it is impossible to have books and newspapers
in their languages, while teachers can not be found who are willing to
acquire any one of these languages sufficiently well to teach it. It is
also the only wise plan. If the Indian in time is to become an American
citizen,--and that is the goal to be reached,--he must speak the English
language, and it is best to teach it to him while young. In large tribes
like the Sioux, where the children will speak their native language
almost wholly after they leave school, and where there are enough of
them to make it pay to publish books and papers in their own tongue, it
is probably best to have the schools in their native language, as a
transition from one language to the other. This transition will
necessarily take a long time among so large a number of Indians, and
needs the stepping-stone of native schools and a native literature to
aid it. But where the Indian tribes are small, as is the case on Puget
Sound, and surrounded by whites with whom they mingle almost daily, who
are constantly speaking English to them, this stepping-stone is not
needed. It is possible for the next generation to be mainly
English-speaking in this region; in fact, most of them will understand
it whether they go to school or not, and it is not wise, were it
possible, to retard it by schools in the native language.


An incident occurred in the school, in 1878, worthy of note. One of the
scholars in arithmetic found four examples which he could not do, and
after a time took them to his teacher, Mr. G. F. Boynton, for
assistance. After the teacher (who was a good scholar) had tried them to
his satisfaction, he found that there was a mistake about the answers in
the book and told the boy so, and then, in a half-joking way, said to
him: “You had better write Dr. Thomson and tell him about it.” The boy
did so, telling also who he was. In due time he received a reply from
Dr. Thomson, who said that two of the mistakes had been discovered and
corrected in later editions, but that the other two had not before been
found; and then he wondered how an Indian boy out in Washington
Territory should be able to correct his arithmetic. He invited the boy
to continue the correspondence, but I believe he never did.



This day has always been celebrated in some way, at least by a dinner.
During the first few years the agent furnished the beef and most of the
provisions at government expense. On the Fourth of July, 1874, among
other exercises, I married seven couples; on the next Fourth, three
couples, and in 1878 four more. Speech-making by some of the whites,
explaining the day, and music were interspersed. Long tables have
usually been made, on which were dishes, knives, and forks, while beef,
bread, tea, coffee, sugar, cake, pie, rice, beans, doughnuts, and such
things were the principal food.

It was not until 1878 that they took upon themselves the main burden of
the day, both of expense and labor, and since that time they have
furnished both. The following, from the _Tacoma Herald_ of July, 1879,
will answer for


     “Among the Indians, from all appearances, the Fourth of July will
     probably in time take the place of the potlatch. The latter is
     spoken of by their white neighbors as being so foolish, while the
     former is held in such high esteem; and as Indians, like others,
     enjoy holidays and festivals, it now seems as if the potlatch would
     be merged into the Fourth, changed a little to suit circumstances
     and civilization. The potlatch has always been given by a few
     individuals to invited guests and tribes, presents of money and
     other things being made to those who came, while in return a great
     name and honorable character was received. It lasts several days or
     weeks and is accompanied by gambling, feasting, tamahnous, and the

     “The Fourth of July on the Skokomish Reservation began about a week
     beforehand and so lasted as long as a short potlatch. The Nisqually
     and Puyallup Indians, having resolved to have celebrations of their
     own, the attendance was smaller than it otherwise would have been.
     The Chehalis Indians came a full week before the Fourth in wagons
     and on horseback, while those from Squaxon, Mud Bay, and Seabeck
     came between that time and the Fourth. A few of the Skokomish
     Indians were at the head of the celebration, bore most of the
     expense, and received most of the honor. Other Indians besides
     these few, however, occasionally invited all the visitors to a
     feast. The guests, on arriving at Skokomish, brought more or less
     food with them,--much as at a potlatch, only on a smaller
     scale,--and they were received with less ceremony. A table a
     hundred feet long was made in a pleasant shady grove, and here for
     more than a week--when the guests were not invited to the house of
     some friend to a meal--they feasted on beef, beans, rice, sugar,
     tea, coffee, and the like: sitting on benches, eating with knives,
     forks, and dishes, and cooking the food on two large stoves brought
     to the grounds for the purpose; visiting, horse-racing, and other
     sports filled up the rest of the time.

     “The Fourth was the central day of the festival and was celebrated
     in much the same style with the other days, only on a larger scale,
     there being more Indians present, more flags flying, more firing of
     guns, and more whites on the grounds. By invitation the whites on
     the reservation were present and were assigned to a very pleasant
     place on the grounds, where they might have had tables if they had
     done as the Indians did: made them for themselves; but, as it was,
     they picnicked on the ground, while their colored brethren sat at
     the tables. A few white men, rather the worse for liquor, visited
     the horse-races after the dinner; but not an Indian is known to
     have tasted liquor during the week.”

The Clallam Indians seldom have celebrations of their own. They usually
attend those of the whites near them, often being invited to take part
in canoe-races. There has always been much drunkenness among the whites
at these times; the Indians have often been sorely tempted to do the
same, and many of them have fallen then who seldom have done so at other

The Fourth of July, 1884, in many respects has the best record at the
reservation. It was indeed not the greatest, most expensive, or most
numerously attended. As the leading ones had decided not to have any
horse-racing or betting, the younger ones thought that they could have
no celebration, and it was only the day before that they decided to have
one. It consisted of a feast, after which they went to the race-track. I
felt fearful that some professing Christians would fall, but thought it
not best for me to go near that place, but leave them and await the
result. When the report came, it was that, while they had some fun with
their horses, hardly any of which was regular racing, not a cent had
been bet by any one.



This day has been celebrated with as much regularity as the Fourth of
July, but the former remains yet as our affair, while the latter has
passed into their hands. They have no building large enough to contain
much of a celebration of the day. The church is at the agency, and is
the most suitable building for the purpose, and the exercises naturally
center around the school, so the older Indians come to us on Christmas,
and we go to them on the Fourth.

Usually there have been some speeches made, and presents from the
government, school-supplies to the Indian school-children. Private
presents have been made among the whites, but it has only been during
the last two or three years that the outside Indians have taken much
interest in this custom of ours. Indeed, during the first few years
generally but few of them were present. It was far from their homes, the
nights were dark, the roads muddy, so that they did not take much
interest in it, but as the first school-children have grown up they have
kept up the idea they received in school, and imparted it to others, and
of late years a good share of them have been present. On Christmas 1882
and 1883 they made quite a number of private presents; more on the last
one than ever before. Usually nuts and candy have been provided from
contributions by the whites, and apples which are raised at the agency
for the older Indians. A Santa Claus Christmas-tree, or something of the
kind, has been the usual way for distributing the presents. The report
of the Sabbath-school for the year has been a central item in the
exercises, showing the attendance, the number of times each has been on
the roll of honor, with the distribution of some extra present to those
who have been highest on this roll.

In 1878 quite an exhibition was made by the school, consisting of pieces
spoken, dialogues, compositions, tableaux, and the like. In 1879 I
arranged so that about twenty of the aged Indians, who had neither land
nor good houses, came to the agency and had a dinner of rice, beans,
bread, and tea. This was new to them, they generally being the neglected
ones, but I thought it to be according to the principles of the New

The celebration for 1883 suited me better than any previous one in many
respects. The first part of the exercises were more of a religious
service than usual--more of a celebration of Christ’s birth. This idea
suited also the minds of the Indians better than to have it mainly
consist of sport. The Indian girls did nearly all the singing and
playing, six of them playing each one piece on the organ. The year
before three of them had done so, but this year it was still better.
Then five of the older Indians made speeches, including two of the
chiefs and two of the young men who had been in school. This was new for
them on this day. More of the Indians also made private presents than
ever before. Thus they took up the work, as the whites who previously
had done it had been discharged, and it is better for them to do so.

The people at Jamestown for several years have had a celebration of
their own, consisting often of a Christmas-tree, and they have borne the
whole expense. I have never been present, but they have always been
spoken of as enjoyable affairs, a good number of the surrounding whites
feeling that it was a pleasant place for them to spend the evening.



“Jack-at-all-trades and good at some” was the pleasant way in which Dr.
Philip Schaff put it, when some of the students in the Theological
Seminary at Hartford, Connecticut, had done up some furniture for him,
to send to New Haven. I have often been reminded of this, as I have had,
at times, to take up a variety of work. Missionaries among the Indians
have to be the first part of the sentence and console themselves with
the hope that the latter part may sometimes prove true.

On one tour among the Clallams, I find the following: When three miles
from home, the first duty was to stop and attend the funeral of a white
man. Forty-five miles on, the evening of the next day until late at
night, was spent in assisting one of the government employees in holding
court over four Indians, who had been drunk; a fifth had escaped to
British Columbia and was safe from trial. This kind of business
occasionally comes in as an aid to the agent. I seldom have any thing
to do with it on the reservation, as the agent can attend to it; but
when off from the reservation, where neither of us can be more than once
in six months or thereabouts it sometimes saves him much trouble and
expense, and seems to do as much good as a sermon. It is of but little
use to preach to drunken Indians, and a little law sometimes helps the
gospel. The agent reciprocates by talking gospel to them on the Sabbath
on his trips.

On reaching Jamestown, the afternoon was spent in introducing an Indian
from British Columbia, who had taken me there in his canoe, to the
Clallam Indians and the school; and in comforting two parents, Christian
Indians, whose youngest child lay at the point of death. The next day
she died, and, as no minister had ever been among these Indians at any
previous funeral, they needed some instruction. So it was my duty to
assist in digging the grave and making the coffin, comfort them, and
attend the funeral in a snow-storm.

The Sabbath was spent in holding two services with them, one of them
being mainly a service of song; and, as there was a part of the day
unoccupied, at the request of the whites near by I gave them a sermon.
The next day I found that “Blue Monday” must be adjourned. Years ago the
Indians purchased their land, but owing to a mistake of the surveyor, it
was necessary that the deeds should be made out again. So, in order to
get all the Indians together who were needed, with the proper officer, I
walked fourteen miles, rode six in a canoe, and then, after half-past
three o’clock, saw that nineteen deeds were properly signed, which
required sixty-two signatures, besides the witnessing, acknowledging,
and filing of them, which required seventy-six more signatures. The plat
of their town--Jamestown--was also filed and recorded. When this was
done, I assisted the Indians to obtain two marriage-licenses, after
which we went to the church, where I addressed them on two different
subjects, and then the two weddings took place, and by nine o’clock we
were done.

The monotony of the next day was varied by a visit to the school;
helping the chief to select a burying-ground (for their dead had been
buried in various places); a walk of ten miles and a wedding of a white
couple, who have been very kind to me in my work there, one of them
being a member of the Jamestown church.

On my way home, while waiting for the steamers to connect at Port
Gamble, I took a trip of about fifty miles, to Port Madison and back, to
help in finishing the Indian census of 1880 for General F. A. Walker and
Major J. W. Powell; and then on my way home, by the kindness of the
captain of the steamer, who waited half an hour for me, I was able to
assist the chief in capturing and taking to the reservation the fifth
Indian at Port Gamble who had been drunk, and had, by that time,
returned from the British side.

The variety of another trip in 1878 is thus recorded: As to food, I have
done my own cooking, eaten dry crackers only for meals, been boarded
several days for nothing, and bought meals. As to sleeping, I have
stayed in as good a bed as could be given me for nothing, and slept in
my own blankets in an Indian canoe, because the houses of the whites
were too far away and the fleas were too thick in the Indian houses.
They were bad enough in the canoe, but the Indians would not allow me to
go farther away, for fear that the panthers would catch me. As to work,
I have preached, held prayer-meetings, done pastoral work, helped clean
up the streets of Jamestown, been carpenter and painter, dedicated a
church, performing all the parts, been church organist, studied science,
acted for the agent, and taken hold of law in a case where whiskey had
been sold to an Indian, and also in making a will. As to traveling, I
have been carried ninety miles in a canoe by Indians, free, paid an
Indian four dollars for carrying me twenty miles, have been carried
twenty more by a steamer at half-fare, and twenty more on another for
nothing, have rode on horseback, walked fifty miles, and “paddled my own
canoe” for forty-five more.

I have never had a vacation since I have been here, unless such things
as these may be called vacation. They are recreation, work, and
vacation, all at once. They are variety, and that is rest, the vacation
a person needs, with the satisfaction that a person is doing something
at the same time.



The Indian idea of the marriage bond is that it is not very strong. They
have been accustomed to get married young, often at fourteen or sixteen
years of age, to pay for their wives in money and articles to the value
of several hundred dollars, and the men have had, oftentimes, two or
three wives.

When they married young, in order that two young fools should not be
married together, often a boy was married to an elderly woman, and a
young girl to an elderly man, so that the older one could take care of
the younger, with the expectation that when the younger one should grow
older if they did not like each other they should be divorced.

Such ideas naturally did not suit the government, the agent, or the
Bible. The agent has had about all the children of school age in school,
and thus had control of them, so that they could not get married as
young as formerly. In 1883 the government sent word to prevent the
purchase of any more wives, and this has been generally acquiesced in by
the Skokomish Indians. Some of the Clallam Indians, however, are so far
from the agent, and are so backward in civilization, that it has not
been possible to enforce these two points among them as thoroughly as
among the Twanas.

The Commissioner of Indian Affairs, in his report for 1878, recommended
the passage of a law compelling all Indians who were living together as
man and wife to be married. The law has not been made, but the agent
worked on the same principles long before 1878--indeed ever after he
first took charge in 1871. He urged them to be married, making for a
time special presents from government annuities to those who should
consent, as a shawl or ladies’ hat, and some consented. Only two couples
had been thus married when I went there. It seemed rather comical on the
Fourth of July, 1874, when I had been on the reservation only about two
weeks, to be asked to join in marriage seven couples, some of whom had
children. One Sabbath in 1883 a couple stood up to be married, the bride
having a baby in her arms, and she would probably have held it during
the ceremony had not my wife whispered to a sister of the bride to go
and get it. During the ten years I have married twenty-six couples among
the Twanas, and twenty-nine couples among the Clallams, and a number of
other Clallams have been married by other persons. Some very comical
incidents have occurred in connection with some of these ceremonies. In
1876 I was called upon to marry eleven couples at Jamestown. All went
well with the first ten, the head chief being married first, so that the
others might see how it was done, and then nine couples stood up and
were married with the same set of words. But the wife of the other man
was sick with the measles. She had taken cold and they had been driven
in, but had come out again, so that she was as red as a beet. Still they
were afraid that she would die, and as I was not to be there again for
several months they were very anxious to be married so as to legalize
the children. She was so near death that they had moved her from their
good house to a mat-house, which was filled with smoke. The fire was
thrown out, and soon it became less smoky. She was too sick to stand,
and only barely able to sit up. This, however, she managed to do in her
bed, which was on the ground. Her husband sat beside her and took her
hand, and I married them, measles and all. She afterward recovered.

At another time I married a couple who had homesteaded some land, and
who had been married in Indian style long before. As they had never seen
such a ceremony I took the man aside and explained it to him as well as
I was able. After I had begun the ceremony proper, and had said the
words: “You promise to take this woman to be your wife,” and was ready
to say: “You promise to love and take care of her,” he broke out,
saying, “Of course I do! You do not suppose that I have been living with
her for the last fifteen years and am going to put her away now, do you?
See, there is my boy, fourteen years old. Of course I do!” As it was no
use to try to stop him, I did not try, but waited until he was through,
when I said: “All right,” and went on with the ceremony, but laughed
very hard in my sleeve all the time.

A girl in the boarding-school was to be married, and her schoolmates
thought that it ought to be done in extra style. Thanks to the teacher
and matron, the supper and their share of the duties passed off in an
excellent manner. But five of the girls thought that they would act as
bridesmaids, and they were left to manage that part among themselves.
Each one chose a young man who had previously been in school to act as
her escort. Thinking that they would hardly know how to act with so much
ceremony, I invited them to my house fifteen minutes before the marriage
was to take place in church, so that I could instruct them. They came on
time, but what was my surprise to see the bride and groom and the five
girls march into my house, but not a single groomsman, and they thought
that it was all right, even if their partners did not come. Those whom
they had expected were off in the woods, or at home, or if near by, were
far from being dressed for the occasion, while the bridesmaids had spent
a long time in getting themselves ready, and were in full dress. What a
time I had hunting up partners for them! I had to borrow clothes for
those who were on the ground, others whom I wished felt that they had
been slighted so long that they did not care to step into such a place
then, and the ceremony was delayed some before it could all be arranged.
But how I was surprised to see five bridesmaids march in without a
single partner!

At another time, as a sub-chief, well dressed, came forward to be
married, he began to pull off his coat as if ready for a fight,
although his intentions were most peaceable. I told him that it was just
as well to let his coat remain on, and he obeyed.

The following is from _The Port Townsend Argus_ of December 2, 1881:--

“_Married._--Clallam Bay is alive! One of the sensations of the season
occurred at that place on the sixteenth of November, and is news, though
not published till this late day. Five of the citizens having complied
with the laws of the Territory in regard to licenses were married by
Rev. M. Eells to their respective partners. Nearly all the inhabitants
of the place assembled, without regard to race or color, some of whom
had come from miles distant. First came a short address by Mr. Eells on
the history of marriage, beginning with the days of Adam and Eve, and
setting forth some of the reasons against polygamy and divorce, after
which Mr. Charles Hock-a-too and Mrs. Tau-a-yi stood up. Mr. H. has been
the only Mormon of the place, having had two whom he called wives, but
being more progressive than the Mormons, he boldly resolved to choose
only one of them, and cleave only to her so long as they both should
live. When the marriage ceremony was over, and he was asked if thus he
promised to do, he replied in a neat little speech, fully as long as the
marriage ceremony, very different from the consent of some persons whom
the public presume to have said yes, simply because silence gives
consent. It is impossible to reproduce the speech. It will live in the
memories of those who heard it, however, as coming from an earnest heart
and being all that could be desired. The bride did not blush or faint,
but also made her speech, showing that she knew what was said to her.
After this the four other couples stood up, Mr. Long John Smittain and
Kwash-tun, alias E-ni-so-ut; Mr. Tom Jim-myak and Wal-lis-mo; Captain
Jack Chats-oo-uk and Nancy Hwa-tsoo-ut; also Mr. Old Jack Klo-tasy,
father of the Captain, and Mary Cheenith. In regard to the ages of the
last two, from what we learn, the familiar lines would apply:--

      ‘How old is she, Billy boy, Billy boy,
       How old is she, charming Billy?’
      ‘She’s three times six, four times seven,
       Twenty-eight and eleven.
    She’s a young thing and can not leave her mother.’”

While she probably is not eighty-five, yet she was old enough to obtain
a license and leave her mother. He was about seventy years old. These
were all married with one set of words, when congratulations
followed--regular hand-shaking, none of those present so far forgetting
themselves as to indulge in the (im)propriety of kissing the brides. The
ceremony having been concluded, a part of those present, the invited
guests (but here there was a distinction as to race and color) sat down
to the marriage-feast. It was none of your light, frosted, airy cake (in
fact, there was not any cake in sight), but substantial _solid_ bread
and the like. [Here the line went down, and the meager accounts we could
gather about the elegant and varied costumes worn by the charming
brides, the number and appearance of the bridesmaids, etc., had better
be supplied from the vivid imaginations of the readers.] All of the high
contracting parties, we may say, however, are tax-payers of Clallam
County and land-owners. _Kloshe hahkwa_ (“good so”).

Not much of a direct war was waged on plural marriages. They were simply
fenced in and allowed to die out. In 1874 there were only five Twana men
who had more than one wife, and there were about as many more among the
Clallams. Those who had one wife were never allowed to obtain another as
long as they were living with the first. When one of the wives died of
those who had more than one, or was willingly put away, they were not
allowed to take another in her place. On some reservations where plural
marriages have been numerous, the plan has been adopted of having the
man choose one of his wives as the one to whom he should be legally
married; and then, in order to save the others and their children from
suffering, they have been told to provide for them until the women
should be married to some other man. Among these Indians it has now come
to be practically the same. One is the real wife, and the others are so
old that they are simply taken care of by their husbands, except when
they take care of themselves, until they shall get married again; only
they do not get married to any one else, being willing to be thus cared

They soon learned that a legal marriage meant more than an old-fashioned
Indian one and that a divorce was difficult to obtain. The agent took
the position that he had no legal right to grant a divorce even on the
reservation, and that if the parties obtained one they must apply to the
courts. This involved too much expense, and so not a divorce has been
obtained by those legally married. But it has taken a long, strong,
firm hand to compel some of the parties to live together, and this made
others of them somewhat slow to be legally married. One day I asked a
man who had then recently obtained a wife, Indian fashion, if he wished
to be married in white style. “I am a little afraid,” he said, “that we
shall not get along well together. I think we will live together six
months; and then, if we like each other well enough, we will have you
perform the ceremony.” It was never done, for they soon separated.

The most severe contest the agent ever had with the Indians on the
reservation was to prevent divorce. In 1876 one man, whose name was
Billy Clams, had considerable trouble with his wife and wanted a
divorce, but the agent would not allow it. He tried every plan he could
think of to make them live peaceably together, and consulted with the
chiefs and the relations of the parties; but they would still quarrel.
At one time he put him in charge of his brother-in-law, a policeman,
with handcuffs on; but with a stone he knocked them off and went to the
house of his uncle, a quarter of a mile from the agency. To this place
the agent went with two Indians and told him to go with him. With an
oath Billy Clams said he would not. The agent then struck him with a
stick quite severely. Billy got a larger stick, which the agent wrenched
from him. Then Billy grabbed the agent around the waist, and, with the
help of his uncle, threw him down. The other Indians who went with the
agent took them off. Then the agent locked the door and sent the
friendly Indians to the agency for two white men, the carpenter and the
blacksmith, for help. Twice Billy and his uncle tried to take the key
away from the agent, but failed; three times Billy tried to get out of
the window, but the agent stopped him. Then they made an excuse that a
very old man must go out; and while the agent was letting him go, Billy
ran across the room, struck the middle of the window with his head, and
went through it; and the agent went so quickly out in the same way, that
he lit on Billy’s neck with one foot, after which the window fell on
him, and, as he was knocking that off, Billy got away and ran through
the woods. Being swift of foot, he escaped; but there had been a fresh
fall of snow, and the agent and two white men, with a number of Indians,
followed him all day. They, however, could not take him. The agent at
night offered a reward of thirty dollars if any of the Indians would
bring him in; but their sympathies were too much with him, and at night
one sub-chief and his son, with a cousin of Billy Clams, helped him off,
and he went to some relations of his at Port Madison, sixty or seventy
miles away. The next day Billy’s uncle was put in irons in the jail, and
not long after those who had furnished Billy with a canoe, blankets, and
provisions also went into the jail, while the sub-chief was deposed. The
Indians worked in every way possible to have them released, but the
agent said that he would only do so on condition that Billy Clams should
be brought in. They had said that they did not know where he was; but in
a short time after the agent said this, he came in and delivered himself
up and was confined in the jail for six months. But a number of the
Indians, including the head chief and a sub-chief, encouraged by some
white men near by, had been to a justice of the peace and made out
several charges against the agent for various things done during all his
residence among them, and had them sent to the Commissioner of Indian
Affairs at Washington. The principal charges were for shooting at an
Indian (or ordering an employee to do so), burning ten Indian houses,
selling annuity goods, collecting large fines for small offences, and
having the employees work for him. The real cause of their sending
these was the trouble with Billy Clams and his friends. The commissioner
sent to General O. O. Howard, in charge of the military department of
the Columbia, and requested him to investigate the charges. The
commissioner said that on the face of the letter, it bore evidence of
being untrue; but still he desired General Howard’s opinion. Accordingly
Major W. H. Boyle was detailed for this purpose. He examined six Indians
and three white men, as witnesses against the agent, and one white
employee in his favor,--giving the agent an opportunity to defend
himself,--and found that the charges amounted to so nearly nothing that
he went no further.

After Billy Clams had served out his term of six months in jail, he
secretly abandoned his wife and took another, and then they ran away to
Port Madison. The agent quietly bided his time, found out the
whereabouts of the offending party, and, with a little help from the
military, had him arrested and conveyed to Fort Townsend, where he
worked six months more, with a soldier and musket to watch him. This
showed the Indians that they could not easily run away from the agent,
or break the laws against divorce, and greatly strengthened his
authority among them.



The department of the physician has always been a discouraging one. The
government, for twenty-five years, has furnished a physician free, and
yet it is difficult to induce the Indians to rely on him. There are
three reasons for this: (1) The natural superstition an Indian has about
sickness. This has been quite fully discussed under the head of native
religion. (2) The Indian doctor does not like to have his business
interfered with by any one. It is a source of money and influence to
him, and he often uses his influence, which is great among the Indians,
to prevent the use of medical remedies. (3) If a medicine given by the
physician does not cure in a few doses, or, at least, in two or three
days, they think it is not strong, or it is good for nothing--so often
when medicine is given, with directions how to use it, it is left
untouched or thrown away. When using medicine they often employ an
Indian doctor, and his practices often kill all the good effects of
medicine, so that sometimes the physicians have felt that, when Indian
doctors were employed, it was almost useless for them to do any thing.

At the same time there have been some things which have aided our
methods very materially. Under the head of native religion, two cases
have been given, where it seemed to the Indians as if their mode was
true. This has occasionally been the effect with older people. But with
young children, too young to go to school, the opposite has been true.
Infants have continually died. Their mortality has been very great, when
they lived at home, where they could have all the Indian doctors they
wanted with no one to interfere. The medicine-men have been especially
unfortunate in losing their own children. One Indian doctor has buried
twelve and has only three left. Another has buried four and has one
left. And others have lost theirs in like proportion. On the other hand,
in the school, where we could have more control over them, both as to
observing the laws of health and the use of medicine, when they were
sick there have been very few deaths. Only five children in ten years
have died in school, or been taken fatally sick while there, while the
attendance has been from twenty-five to forty.

During November and December, 1881, we passed through a terrible
sickness. It seemed to be a combination of scarlet fever, diphtheria,
measles, and chicken-pox, about which the physician knew almost nothing.
It was a new hybrid disease, as we afterward learned. The cases were
mostly in the school and in the white families, there being
comparatively few among the outside Indians. There were sixty cases in
five weeks, an average of two new ones every day. At one time every
responsible person in the school was down with it. A number of the
children, while all the physician’s family, himself included, had it,
and one of them lay dead. Five persons died with it, but not one of them
was a scholar. There were then twenty-four scholars, and all but three
had it. Nineteen outside Indians had it, of whom three died. The rest,
who were sick and died, belonged to the white families and the Indian
apprentices and employees. The favor which was shown to the school in
saving their lives was of great value to it.

And now the older Indians are gaining more and more confidence in the
physician, slowly but steadily, some within a year having said that
they will never have an Indian doctor again. In the winter of 1883-84,
four Indian children died, and not an Indian doctor was called. In one
case the parents had just buried one, and another was fatally sick. The
parents came to me and said: “If you can tell us what medicine will cure
the child, we will go to Olympia and get it (thirty miles distant). We
do not care for the expense, we do not care if it shall cost fifty
dollars, if you will only tell us what will cure it.” The child died,
but they had no Indian doctor, although its grandfather strongly urged
the calling of one. After the death of these two children, the family
went to live with an aunt of the mother’s, where they remained about
five months. At that time a child of this aunt was sick, and an Indian
doctor was called, whereupon the bereaved family left the house, because
they did not wish to remain in a house where such practices were
countenanced, even if those doing so were kind relations.



The oldest style of burial was to wrap the body in mats, place it in one
canoe, cover it with another, elevate it in a tree or on a frame erected
for the purpose, and leave it there, burying with it valuable things, as
bows, arrows, canoes, haiqua shells (their money), stone implements,
clothes, and the like. After the whites came to this region, the dead
were placed in trunks, and cloth, dishes, money, and the like were added
to the valuables which were buried with them.

But one such burial has taken place within ten years, and that was the
daughter of an old man. The next step toward civilization was to bury
all the dead in one place, instead of leaving them scattered anywhere
they might chance to die, make a long box instead of using a trunk and
canoe, and elevate it on a frame made for the purpose only a few feet
high, or, perhaps, simply lay it on the ground, erecting a small house
over it. This was frequently done during the first few years after I
was here.


     These are painted, with no cloth on them. (_a_) Looking-glass.

     (_b_) A shelf, on which is a bowl, teapot, etc., with rubber toys
     floating in them, such as ducks, fish, etc.

On the opening of a new burying-ground, in August, 1878, the head chief
of the Twanas said to me: “To-day we become white people. At this
burying-ground all will be buried in the ground, and no cloth or other
articles will be left around, at least, above ground.” At that place
this promise has been faithfully kept, as far as I know, though since
that time, at other places, they have left some cloth above ground. They
often yet fill the coffin, now generally made like those of white
people, with much cloth and some other things. A grave-stone, which
cost thirty dollars, marks the last resting-place of one man, put there
by his wife.

[Illustration: FIG. 1.]

[Illustration: FIG. 2.]

[Illustration: FIG. 3.

     These are grave-enclosures at the burying-ground at the Skokomish
     Reservation. In Figures 1 and 3 they are covered altogether with
     cloth, and that which is not colored is white. Figure 3 is chiefly
     covered with a red blanket; _a_ in Figure 1 is a glass window,
     through which a red shawl covers the coffin, which is placed a foot
     or so above the ground. In all grave-enclosures which I have seen
     where glass windows are placed the coffin is above ground.
     Sometimes more than one is placed in an enclosure. Figure 2 is
     almost entirely after the American fashion, and was made last
     year.--(December, 1877.)

Most of them had a superstitious fear of going near a dead body, for
they were afraid that the evil spirit, which killed the deceased was
still around and would kill others who might be near. This, together
with the fact that they cared but little for Christianity, made them
have no desire to have Christian services at their funerals at first.
Before I came, only one such service had been held. And, for the first
few years after I came, notwithstanding the efforts of both agent and
missionary, there were but few such services. Sometimes they would hurry
off a deceased person to the grave, and I would not hear of the death
until after the burial, much less have a chance to ask whether they
wished for such services.

But steady effort, together with the example of the surrounding whites,
who, previous to my arrival, had had no minister to hold such services,
in time produced a change, so that they wished for them at the funerals
of all persons whom they considered of much importance. At the funeral
of one poor vagabond, who had almost no friends, I had my own way, and
many thought it very strange that I should hold such a service. It was
well enough, they said, with persons of consequence, but with such a
person they thought it useless.

Not long after they opened their new burying-ground, already spoken of,
I was absent from home when one person died. When I returned, a
sub-chief said to me: “We felt badly when we buried a person and no
white man was present to say a Christian word. We wish that when you are
away, you would make arrangements with some of the whites at the agency
to attend our funerals, for we want such services.” Since then, I have
almost constantly held them, except when they preferred to have the
Indian Catholic priest to attend them.

But now a new error arose at the other extreme. This was that such
services helped the soul of the deceased to reach heaven. It came from
Catholic teaching. I have had to combat it constantly, but some believe
it still.

Most of the Clallams now put their dead in the ground. Those who are
Catholics have a funeral service by their own priest. In February, 1881,
I was at Jamestown, when a child of Cook House Billy died. I went
through with the services--the first Christian ones that had ever been
held there. They soon asked how they should do if I were absent, and I
instructed them as best I could. Since then the Christian part of the
community have obtained a minister of any Protestant denomination, if
there was one to be obtained, to hold services at their funerals.


Skagit Bill was in early days an Indian Catholic priest, but afterward
went back to his gambling, drinking, and tamahnous. He died in August,
1875, of consumption. When he was sick, he came to the agency, where he
remained for five weeks for Christian instruction. He seemed to think
the old Indian religion of no value, and wished for something better.
Sometimes I thought that he leaned on his Catholic baptism for
salvation, and sometimes I thought not. His dying request was for a
Christian funeral and burial, with nothing but a plain fence around his
grave. The following, from the pen of Mrs. J. M. Walker, and taken from
the _Pacific Christian Advocate_, gives the opinions of one other than

“Yesterday came to us fraught with solemn interest. Our flag hung at
half-mast, reminding us that death had been in our midst and chosen
another victim. This time he has not selected one rich in the treasures
of this world, of high birth or noble blood, or boasting much culture or
refinement. The lowly mien and dusky complexion of the deceased might
not have attracted much attention from me or you, kind reader. But such
are they whom our blessed Lord delights to honor; and, while we turn
wearily from one to another, looking vainly for suitable soil in which
to plant the seeds of true righteousness and true holiness, the Holy
Spirit descends on some lonely, barren spot, and lo! before our
astonished gaze springs into luxuriant growth a plant of rare holiness,
meet even to be transplanted into the garden of paradise.

“I think it is not a common thing for a dying Indian to request a
strictly Christian burial;[2] brought up as they are in the midst of
superstition, with no religion but misty traditions and mysterious
necromancy, the very fabulousness of which seems strangely adapted to
their nomadic existence--surely no influence less potent than that of
God’s Holy Spirit could induce one of them, while surrounded by friends
who cling tenaciously to their heathenism and bitterly resent any
innovations of Christian faith, to renounce the whole system with its
weird ceremonies, and demand for himself the simple burial service used
ordinarily by Christians.

“At eleven o’clock A.M. the coffin was brought into the church, and the
funeral discourse preached; and we all felt that the occasion was one
of deep solemnity. Probably every one present had seen dear friends
lying, as this man now lay, in the icy embrace of death, and the keen
pain in our own hearts, at the remembrance of our unhealed wounds, made
us sympathize deeply with the afflicted mourners in their present
bereavement. What is so potent to bind human hearts together in purest
sympathy and kindest charity as common woe!

“A beautiful wreath lay upon the coffin, formed and given, I suspect, by
the agent’s wife, a lady possessing rare nobility of mind and heart, and
eminently fitted for the position she occupies. This delicate token I
deemed emblematic; for as each bud, blossom, and sprig fitted its
respective place, giving beauty and symmetry to the whole, so all of
God’s creatures fit their respective places, and the absence of one
would leave a void: and so also in heaven’s economy the diadem of the
Prince of Light is set with redeemed souls of nationalities varied and
diverse, each so essential to its perfection, that the highest ransom of
which even Omniscience could conceive has been paid for it.

“Quite a number of Indians were present, and as the deceased had been
with them and they had seen him die happy in his faith in Christ and his
atonement, a rare opportunity offered for bringing the truth home to
their hearts.

“The Indians here are, for the most part, shrewd and intelligent,
capable of reasoning on any subject, where their judgment is not
darkened by superstition; but, alas! most of them are in the gall of
bitterness and bond of iniquity.... The body was taken for interment to
a grave-yard some three miles from here. Our esteemed pastor, Rev. M.
Eells, preached the funeral discourse, and also officiated at the grave,
aided on each occasion by the usual interpreter [Mr. John F. Palmer], a
man of considerable intellectual culture, of gentlemanly bearing, and
pleasant address. This man, though greatly superior to any of his race
whom I have met, is yet humble and strives to do his fellows good in a
quiet, unostentatious manner, worthy the true disciple of the meek and
lowly Jesus, which can not fail of great results, whether he live to
enjoy them or not.

“What is so refining in its influences as true religion? It expands the
mind, ennobles the thought, corrects the taste, refines the manners by
the application of the golden rule, and works marvelous transformations
in character. May a glorious revival of this pure religion sweep over
our land, carrying away the bulwarks of Satan and leaving in their stead
the ‘peaceable fruits of righteousness,’ until every creature shall
exclaim: ‘Behold, what hath God wrought! Sing, O ye heavens, for the
Lord hath done it!’




In the fall of 1880 the government sent orders to the agent to take the
census of all the Indians under him for the United States decennial
census. To do so among the Clallams was the most difficult task, as they
were scattered for a hundred and fifty miles, and the season of the year
made it disagreeable, with a probability of its being dangerous on the
waters of the lower sound in a canoe. I was then almost ready to start
on a tour amongst a part of them and the agent offered to pay my
expenses if I would combine this with my missionary work. He said that
it was almost impossible for him to go; that none of the employees were
acquainted either with the country or the large share of the Indians;
that he should have to pay the expenses of some one; and that it would
be a favor if I could do it. I consented, for it was a favor to me to
have my expenses paid, while I should have an opportunity to visit all
of the Indians; but it was December before I was fairly able to begin
the work and it required four weeks.

In early life I had read a story about taking the census among some of
the ignorant people of the Southern States and the superstitious fear
that they had of it, and I thought that it would not be strange if the
Indians should have the same fear. My previous acquaintance with them
and especially the intimacy I had had with a few from nearly every
settlement who had been brought to the reservation for drinking and had
been with us some time and whose confidence I seemed to have gained, I
found to be of great advantage in the work. Had it not been for these, I
would have found it a very difficult task.

The questions to be asked were many--forty-eight in number, including
their Indian as well as “Boston” names, the meaning of these, the age,
and occupation; whether or not a full blood of the tribe; how long since
they had habitually worn citizen’s dress; whether they had been
vaccinated or not; whether or not they could read and write; the number
of horses, cattle, sheep, swine, dogs, and fire-arms owned; the amount
of land owned or occupied; the number of years they had been
self-supporting, and the per cent. of support obtained from civilized
industries and in other ways.

I began the work at Port Gamble one evening, and after much talk secured
nineteen names, but the next forenoon I only obtained six. The men were
at work in the mill, and the women, afraid, were not to be found. I then
hired an interpreter, a boy who had been in school, and after talking a
while had no more difficulty there. The best argument I could use why it
was required was that some people said they were nothing but worthless
Indians, and that it was useless to try to civilize them; that some of
us thought differently and wished for facts to prove it, and when found,
that they would be published to the world. And this I did in the _Port
Townsend Argus_ and _American Antiquarian_. One man refused to give me
any information because that, years before, a census had been taken and
soon after there had been much sickness, and he was afraid that if his
name were written down he would die. But I easily obtained the
information most needed from others. I was almost through, and was at
Seabeck, the last town before reaching home, when I found the only one
who was at all saucy. He gave me false names and false information
generally, as I soon learned from another Indian present and it was
afterward corrected. The ages of the older ones were all unknown, but
the treaty with the tribe was made twenty-five years previous, and every
man, woman, and child was present who possibly could be, and I could
generally find out about how large they were then. When I asked the age
of one man he said two years, but he said he had two hundred guns. He
was about forty-three years old and had only one gun. To obtain the
information about vaccination was the most difficult, as the
instructions were that they should show me the scars on the arm if they
had been vaccinated, and many of them were ashamed to do this. As far as
I knew, none of them made a false statement. When about half-way through
I met Mr. H. W. Henshaw, who had been sent from Washington to give
general information about the work, and he absolved them from the
requirement of showing the scar. He said that all that was needed was to
satisfy myself on the point. On this coast, a dime is called a bit,
although in reality a bit is half a quarter, and the Indians so
understand it. In finding how nearly a pure Clallam one man was, I was
informed that he was partly Clallam and partly of another tribe. But
when I tried to find out how much of the other tribe I was told: “Not
much; _a bit_, I guess.”

I was instructed to take the names of not only those who were at home,
but of a number who were across the straits on the British side, whose
residence might properly be said to be on this side. In asking about one
man I was told that he had moved away a long time ago, very long, _two
thousand years_, probably, and so was not a member of the tribe.

It struck me that some pictures of myself, with descriptions of them
would have adorned _Harper’s Monthly_ as well as any of Porte Crayon’s
sketches. With an old Indian man and his wife I sat on the beach in Port
Discovery Bay all day waiting for the wind to die down, because it was
unsafe to proceed in a canoe with the snow coming down constantly on one
of the coldest days of the year, with a mat up on one side to keep a
little of the wind off, and a small fire on the other side; and, at
last, we had to give up and return to Port Discovery, as the wind would
not die. I waked up one morning on the steamer _Dispatch_ to have a drop
of water come directly into my eye, for there was a hard rain, and the
steamer overhead (not underneath) was leaky. I got up to find my shirt
so wet that I dared not put it on, while the water in the state-room
above me was half an inch deep and was shoveled out with a dust-pan. I
walked from the west to the east end of Clallam Bay, only two miles, but
while trying to find a log across the Clallam River I wandered about a
long time in the woods and brush, wet with a heavy rain, and when I did
find it it reached just _not_ across the river, but within a few feet of
the bank, and I stood deliberating whether it was safe or not to make
the jump; trying to jump and not quite daring to run the risk of falling
into the river, sticking my toes and fingers into the bank, and the
like, but at last made the crossing safely. It took half a day to travel
those two miles. I ate a Sunday dinner at Elkwa, between
church-services, of some crumbs of sweet cake out of a fifty-pound
flour-sack, so fine that I had to squeeze them up in my hands in order
to get them into my mouth. An apple and a little jelly finished the
repast--the last food I had. At Port Angeles I rode along the beach on
horseback at high tide, and at one time in trying to ford a slough I
found we were swimming in the water. I partly dried out at an Indian
house near by, taking the census at the same time. Again, the steamer
_Dispatch_ rolled in a gale, while the water came over the gunwales, the
food and plates slid off the tables, the milk spilt into gum boots, the
wash-dish of water upset into a bed, and ten minutes after I left her at
Dunginess the wind blew her ashore, dragging her anchors. But there were
also some _special providences_ on the trip. “He who will notice
providences will have providences to notice,” some one has said, and I
was reminded of this several times. I came in a canoe from Clallam Bay
to Elkwa, the most dangerous part of the route, with the water so smooth
that a small skiff would have safely rode the whole distance,
thirty-five miles, to have a heavy storm come the next day, and a heavy
gale, when I again went on the water, but then a steamer was ready to
carry me. The last week, on coming from Jamestown home, in a canoe, I
had pleasant weather and a fair north wind to blow me home the whole
time, only to have it begin to rain an hour after I reached home, the
commencement of a storm which lasted a week. Strange that a week’s north
wind should bring a week’s rain. I have never noticed the fact at any
other time.

But the most noticeable providence of all was as follows: On my way
down, the good, kind people of Seabeck, where I occasionally preached,
made me a present of forty dollars, and it was very acceptable, for my
finances were low. At Port Gamble I spent it all and more, too, for our
winter supplies, as I did not wish to carry the money all around with
me, and, also, so that I might get at Port Townsend those things which I
could not find at Port Gamble. I often did so, and ordered them to be
kept there until my return. About three days later I heard that the
store at Port Gamble was burned with about every thing in it, the loss
being estimated at seventy-five thousand dollars. The thought came into
my mind, Why was that money given to me to be lost so quickly? On my
return I went to Port Gamble to see about the things and to my great
surprise I found that only about two wheelbarrow loads of goods had been
saved, and that mine were among them. They had been packed and placed at
the back door. The fire began in the front part, so they broke open the
back door, and took the first things of which they could lay hold, and
they were mine, and but little else was saved.

When I arrived at Seabeck the kind ladies of the place presented my wife
with a box containing over thirty dollars’ worth of things as a
Christmas present. _Among these was a cloak._ During my absence she had
been trying to make herself one, supposing that she had cloth enough,
but when she began to cut it out to her dismay she found that with all
the twisting, turning, and piecing that she could do, there was not
cloth enough, so she had given it up and made a cloak for our little boy
out of it. She naturally felt badly, as she did not know how she should
then get one. “All these things are against me,” said Jacob, but he
found that they were all for him. Others besides Jacob have found the
same to be true.

The statistical information obtained in this census is as follows:--

In the Clallam tribe there were then 158 men, 172 women, 86 boys, and 69
girls; a total of 485 persons. Six were on or near the reservation, 10
near Seabeck, 96 at Port Gamble, 6 at Port Ludlow, 22 at Port Discovery,
12 at Port Townsend, 18 at Sequim, 86 at Jamestown, 36 at or near
Dunginess. (Those at Sequim and near Dunginess were all within six miles
of Jamestown.) Fifty-seven at Port Angeles (but a large share of them
were across the straits on the British side), 67 at Elkwa, 24 at Pyscht,
and 49 at or near Clallam Bay. There were 290 full-blooded Clallams
among them, and the rest were intermingled with 18 other tribes. Fifteen
were part white. During the year previous to October 1, 1880, there had
been 11 births and 9 deaths. Forty-one had been in school during the
previous year, 49 could read and 42 write; 135 could talk English so as
to be understood, of whom 69 were adults; 65 had no Indian name; 33 out
of 123 couples had been legally married.

They owned 10 horses, 31 cattle, 5 sheep, 97 swine, 584 domestic fowls,
and 137 guns and pistols, most of them being shot-guns. Thirty-four were
laborers in saw-mills; 22 were farmers. There were 80 fishermen, 23
laborers, 17 sealers, 15 canoe-men, 6 canoe-makers, 6 hunters, 3
policemen, 11 medicine-men, 4 medicine-women, 1 carpenter, 2
wood-choppers, 1 blacksmith, and 40 of the women were mat and basket
makers. Twenty-eight persons owned 576 acres of land with a patented
title, four more owned 475 acres by homestead, and twenty-two persons,
representing 104 persons in their families, cultivated 46 acres.

During the year they raised 2,036 bushels of potatoes, 14 tons of hay,
26 bushels of oats, 258 bushels of turnips, 148 bushels of wheat, 20
bushels of apples, 5 of plums, and 4 of small fruit. They had 113
frame-houses, valued by estimate at $5,650, four log-houses, worth $100,
twenty-nine out-houses, as barns, chicken-houses, and canoe-houses, two
jails, and two churches. They cut 250 cords of wood; received $1,994 for
sealing, $646 for salmon, and $1,000 for work in the Port Discovery
mill. I was not able to learn what they had earned at the Seabeck and
Port Gamble saw-mills. Two hundred and eleven of them were out of the
smoke when at home. I estimated that on an average they obtained
seventy-two per cent. of their living from civilized food, the extremes
being fifty and one hundred per cent.

_Twana Indians._--This census was taken by government employees mainly,
and some of the estimates differed considerably from what I should have
made. Probably hardly two persons could be found who would estimate
alike on some points. They numbered 245 persons, of whom there were 70
men, 84 women, 41 boys, and 47 girls. The residence of 49 was in the
region of Seabeck, and of the rest on the Skokomish Reservation. There
were only 20 full-blooded Twanas, the rest being intermingled with 15
other tribes; 24 were partly white. During the year there were 8 births
and 3 deaths. Twenty-nine had been in school during the previous year;
35 could read, and 30 could write; 68 could talk English; 37 had no
Indian name. Out of 67 couples 23 had been legally married. They owned
80 horses, 88 cattle, 44 domestic fowls, and 36 guns. There were 42
farmers, 4 carpenters, 2 blacksmiths, 4 laborers, 7 hunters, 20
fishermen, 21 lumbermen and loggers, 1 interpreter, 1 policeman, 6
medicine-men, 7 washer-women, 6 mat and basket makers, and 1 assistant
matron. Forty-seven of them, representing all except about 40 of the
tribe, held 2,599 acres of unpatented land, all but 40 of which was on
the reservation. They raised 80 tons of hay and 450 bushels of potatoes
during the year. They owned 60 frame-houses valued at $3,000. All but 25
were off of the ground and out of the smoke. It was estimated that on an
average they obtained 78 per cent. of their subsistence from civilized
food, the extremes being 25 and 100 per cent., but these estimates were
made by two different persons who differed widely in their



Some of this has been good and some very bad. Wherever there is whiskey
a bad influence goes forth, and there is whiskey not far from nearly all
the Indian settlements. Still it must be acknowledged that the influence
of all classes of whites has been in favor of industry, Christian
services at funerals, and the like, and against tamahnous and
potlatches. Around Skokomish--with a few exceptions of those whose
influence has been very good--there are not many who keep the Sabbath
and do not swear, drink whiskey, and gamble; but this influence has been
partially counteracted by the employees on the reservation. It has not
been possible to secure Christian men who could fill the places, but
moral men have at least generally been obtained. It has been one of the
happy items of this missionary work, that a good share of those who have
come to the reservation as government employees, who have not at the
time of their coming been Christians, have joined the church on
profession of their faith before they have left. The Christian
atmosphere at the agency has been very different from that of a large
share of the outside world. The church is within a few hundred yards of
the houses of all the employees, and thus it is very convenient to
attend church, prayer-meetings, and Sabbath-school. Thus those persons
who were not Christians when they came, found themselves in a different
place from what they had ever been. There are many persons who often
think of the subject of religion; wish at heart that they were
Christians, and intend at some time to become such, but the cares of
this world, and the deceitfulness of riches, and the people with whom
they associate, choke the good thoughts. But let such people be placed
in a Christian community, where these influences are small, and breathe
a Christian atmosphere, and the good seed comes up. So it has been among
the happy incidents of these ten years to receive into the church some
of these individuals.

Two brothers, neither of whom were Christians, but whose mother was one,
were talking together on the subject of religion, at Seattle, when one
of them said that he believed it to be the best way. Not long after
that the other brother came to the reservation, where he became a
Christian. He then wrote to his brother, saying, “I have now found by
experience that it is the best way.”

Another man and his wife had for years been skeptical, but were like
“the troubled sea which can not rest,” and were sincere inquirers after
truth. In the course of time, after thorough investigation, they became
satisfied of the truth of the Bible, as most people do who sincerely
seek for light, and became Christians. A year afterward the gentleman
said: “This has been by far the happiest year of my life;” and many
times in prayer-meetings and conversation did they speak in pity of
their old companions who were still in darkness and had not the means of
obtaining the light which they had found.

Several of the children of the employees also came into the church; one
of them, eleven years old, being the youngest person whom I ever
received into church membership. Such events as these had a silent but
strong influence upon the Indians, as strong I think as if these persons
had been Christians before they came to the reservation. Thirteen white
persons in all united with the Skokomish church, on profession of faith,
and twenty-three by letter.

At Jamestown it was different. There was only a school-teacher as a
government employee, and he was not sent there until 1878. There are
only a few church privileges or Christians in the county, but
fortunately a good share of the Christians have lived near to the Indian
village, the Indians have worked largely for them, and I have sometimes
thought that their influence has had as much to do in elevating the
Jamestown people as that of the missionary and agent.

“Hungry for preaching” was the way I felt about one old lady in 1880,
who was seventy-six years old. With her son she walked two and a half
miles to Jamestown to church to the Indian service in the morning, then
a mile further to a school-house where I preached to the whites in the
afternoon, and then home again--seven miles in all; and she has done it
several times since, although now nearly eighty. She often walks to the
Indian services when there is no white person to take charge of it.

On one communion Sabbath a lady too weak from ill-health to walk the
three quarters of a mile between her house and the Indian church was
taken by her husband on a wheelbarrow a good share of the way. In 1883
an old gentleman seventy-three years of age stood up with four Indians
to unite with the church--the oldest person I ever saw join a church on
profession of faith. As we went home he said: “This is what I ought to
have done forty years ago.” Such influences as these have done much to
encourage these Indians.



The church was organized June 23, 1874, the day after I arrived, with
eleven members, only one of whom was an Indian, John F. Palmer, who was
government interpreter. I did not come with the expectation of
remaining, but only for a visit. I had just come from Boise City, Idaho,
and more than half-expected to go to Mexico, but that and some other
plans failed, when the agent said that he thought I might do as much
good here as anywhere, and the sentiment was confirmed by others. Rev.
C. Eells had been here nearly two years, had been with the church
through all its preliminary plans, and it was proper that he should be
its pastor, and he was so chosen at the first church meeting after the
organization. He almost immediately left for a two months’ tour in
Eastern Washington, and wished me to fill his place while I was
visiting. The next summer he spent in the same way, only wintering with
us. His heart was mainly set on work in that region, where he had spent
a good share of his previous life. He felt too old, at the age of
sixty-four, to learn a new Indian language, and so from the first the
work fell into my hands, but he remained as pastor. When it was decided
that I should remain, the American Missionary Association gave me a
commission as its missionary, and I served as assistant pastor for
nearly two years. In the spring of 1876 the pastor left for several
months’ work in the region of Fort Colville, hardly expecting to make
this his residence any longer; hence he resigned, and in April, 1876, I
was chosen as his successor.

During most of this time the congregations continued good, though once
in a while the Indians would get very angry at some actions about the
agency, and almost all would stay away from church, but the average
attendance until the spring of 1876 was ninety. At that time the
disaffection resulting from the trouble with Billy Clams, as spoken of
under the subject of Marriage and Divorce, caused a considerable falling
off, so that the average attendance for the next two years was only
seventy. Although the people got over that disaffection in a measure,
yet one thing or another came up, so that while in 1879 and 1880 the
average attendance was better, the congregation never wholly returned
until the fall of 1883. A Catholic service sprang up in 1881, which
took away a number, and which will hereafter be more fully described
among the Dark Days.

From the first there were a few additions to the church, but more of
them during the first few years were from among the whites, several of
them being children of the employees, than from among the Indians. When
the Indians began to join, all the accessions, with one exception, were
from among the school-children, and others connected with the work at
the agency until 1883. Gambling, horse-racing, betting, and tamahnous
had too strong a hold on them for them to easily give up these

The following is from _The American Missionary_ for April, 1877:--

“Our hearts were gladdened last Sabbath by receiving into our church
three of the Indian school-boys, each of them supposed to be about
thirteen years old. We had kept them on virtual probation for nearly a
year, until I began to feel that to do so any longer would be an injury
both to themselves and others. Their conduct, especially toward their
school-teacher, although not perfect, has been so uniformly Christian
that those who were best acquainted with them felt the best satisfied
in regard to their change of heart. Said a member of our church of about
fifty years’ Christian experience: ‘I wish that some of the white
children whom we have received into the church had given half as good
evidence of being Christians as these boys give.’ On religious subjects
they have been most free in communicating both to their teacher and
myself by letter. I have thought that you might be interested in
extracts from some of them, and hence send you the following.

     “I am going to write to you this day. Please help me to get my
     father to become a Christian” (his father is an Indian doctor) “and
     I think I will get Andrew and Henry” (the other Christian boys) “to
     say a word for my father. I want you to read it to my father.”

He wrote to his father the following, which I read to him:--

“AUGUST 3, 1877.

     “MY DEAR BELOVED FATHER,--Your son is a Christian. I am going off
     another road. I am going a road where it leadeth to heaven, and you
     are going to a big road where it leadeth to hell. But now please
     return back from hell. I was long time thinking what I shall do,
     then my father would be saved from hell. I prayed to God. I asked
     God to help my father to become a Christian.”

The letter of another to his Indian friends:--

     “You have not read the Bible, for you can not read, but you have
     heard the minister read it to you. You seem not to pay good
     attention, but you know how Jesus was crucified; how he was put on
     the cross; how he was mocked and whipped, and they put a crown of
     thorns, and he was put to death.

The letter of the other to me:--

     “Oh, how I love all the Indians! I wish they should all become
     Christians. If you please, tell them about Jesus’ coming. It makes
     me feel bad because the Indians are not ready.”

To his Indian friends:--

     “The first time I became a Christian, I found it a very hard thing
     to do, but I kept asking Jesus to help me, and so he did, for I
     grew stronger and stronger. So, my friends, if you will just accept
     Jesus as your King, he will help you to the end of your journey.
     You must trust wholly in Jesus’ strength, and yield your will, your
     time, your talents, your reputation, your strength, your property,
     your all, to be henceforth and forever subject to his divine
     control--your hearts to love him; your tongues to speak for him;
     your hands and feet to work for him, and your lives to serve him
     when and where and as his Spirit may direct. Don’t be proud, but be
     very good Christians; be brave and do what is right.

“Your young friend,

“---- ----”

It is but just to say now that the first two of these have been
suspended from the church for misconduct, and still stand so on our
record. The other one has done a good work, and has been one of the
leaders of religion with the older people, sometimes holding one and two
meetings a week with them and teaching the Bible class of fifty on the

The Twanas and the Clallams were formerly at war with each other, and
even now the old hostile feeling, dwindled down to jealousy, will show
itself at times. A like unpleasant feeling has often been shown between
the whites and Indians, yet, on the first Sabbath in April, 1880, three
persons united with the church and received baptism, who belonged one to
each of these three classes. Another noticeable fact was the reason
which induced them to become Christians. In reply to my question on
this point, each one, unknown to the other, said that it was because
they had noticed that Christians were so much happier than other people.
Two of them had tried the wrong road with all their heart, and had found
to their sorrow that “the way of transgressors is hard.”

The following table will show the state of the church during the ten

                       |  Added by Letter.
                       |     +-----------------------------------------------
                       |     |  Added on Profession of Faith.
                       |     |     +-----------------------------------------
                       |     |     |  Of those Joining on Profession,
                       |     |     |    these were Indians.
                       |     |     |        +---------------------------------
                       |     |     |        |  Dismissed by Letter.
                       |     |     |        |     +---------------------------
                       |     |     |        |     |  Died.
                       |     |     |        |     |     +---------------------
                       |     |     |        |     |     |  Excommunicated.
                       |     |     |        |     |     |     +----------------
                       |     |     |        |     |     |     |  Membership on
                       |     |     |        |     |     |     |  Last Day of
                       |     |     |        |     |     |     |  Fiscal Year.
                       |     |     |        |     |     |     |     +----------
                       |     |     |        |     |     |     |     |Absentees.
                       |     |     |        |     |     |     |     |     +----
                       |     |     |        |     |     |     |     |     |
Organized with         |  9  |  2  |     1  |     |     |     | 11  |     |
June, 1874-75          |  2  |     |        |     |     |     | 13  |     |
June, 1875-76          |  4  |  4  |     1  |     |     |     | 21  |     |
June, 1876-77          |  2  |  2  |     2  |  9  |     |     | 16  |  2  |
June, 1877-78          |     |  3  |     3  |     |     |     | 19  |  2  |
June, 1878-79          |     |  6  |     4  |     |  2  |  1  | 22  |  4  |
June, 1879-80          |  4  | 11  |     7  |  1  |     |     | 36  |  5  |
June, 1880-81          |  2  |  5  |     3  |     |  3  |     | 40  | 10  |
June, 1881-82          |  2  |  5  |4[A] 5  | 16  |     |     | 31  | 13  |
June, 1882-83          |  1  |  5  |6[A] 5  |  6  |     |     | 31  | 13  |
June, 1883-July, 1884  |  1  | 18  |7[3] 17 |  5  |  1  |  1  | 43  | 10  |
                       |     |     |        |     |     |     |     |     |
                       |     |     |        |     |     |     |     |     |
      Total            | 27  | 61  |     64 | 37  |  6  |  2  |     |     |
                       |     |     |        |     |     |     |     |     |

The large diminution in 1876-77 was caused by the removal of employees.
The same cause operated in 1881-82, for then the Indians were believed
to be so far advanced in civilization that the government thought it
wise to discharge all of the employees except the physician and those at
work in the school. During that year the church also granted letters to
seven of its members who lived at Jamestown, to assist in organizing a
church there. Thus when the reasons for the reduced membership of that
year were considered there was no particular cause for discouragement,
but rather for encouragement. One white man and one Indian have been

The next year the agent moved away, and while he still retained his
membership in the church, and aided it financially almost as much as
when he resided here, still his absence has been felt, as from the
beginning he had been its clerk and treasurer, for a part of the time
its deacon, and his councils had always been of great value.

The absentees grew in number mainly because white employees moved away,
and did not always unite with another church.

On July 4, 1880, the first Indian infant was baptized. Some cases of
discipline have been necessary, four being now suspended. Most cases of
discipline have resulted favorably.



Among those who about thirty years previous had received Catholic
instruction and baptism was Big Bill. He was one of the better Indians.
When in 1875 I went to their logging-camps to hold meetings, as related
under the head of Prayer-meetings, he seemed to be a leading one in
favor of Christianity. When I offered to teach them how to pray,
sentence by sentence, the other Indians selected him, as one of the most
suitable, in their opinion, thus to pray. I never knew him to do any
thing which was especially objectionable, even in a Christian, except
that he clung to his tamahnous, and at times he seemed to be even trying
to throw that off. Quite often he would have nothing to do with an
Indian doctor when he was sick, although he was related to some of
them--then again he would call on them for their assistance. In time
consumption took hold of him, together with some other disease, and he
wasted away. He wanted to join the church and be baptized. One reason
given was that he had heard of another Indian far away who had been sick
somewhat as he was, who was baptized and recovered. Of course this
reason was good for nothing, and he was told so, yet because of his
previous life and his Christian profession this point was overlooked as
one of the things for which we should have to make allowance, and he was
received into the church May 9, 1880. I had made up my mind not to ask
him to unite with the church, notwithstanding his apparent fitness in
some respects, because of doubts which I had on other points, but when
he made the request it seemed to me as if a new aspect were put on the
affair, and I was hardly ready to refuse.

He came to church as long as he was able, though he lived two miles
away, and always seemed glad to see me. But his sickness was long and
wore on his mind. His nervous system was affected. Before he died he saw
some strange visions when he was not asleep. His visions combined some
Protestant teaching, some of the Catholic, and some of their old native
superstitions, and had reference especially to heaven. He sent for me to
tell me about them, but I was not at home. When I returned three or
four days afterward I went to see him. I found that Billy Clams, the
leader of the Catholic set, was there, and I suspected that his weak
mind was turning to that religion of which he had been taught in his
younger days. It was so. I often went to see him, and he always received
me well, yet he kept up his intimacy with Billy Clams. He told me much
of his visions, and seemed hurt that I did not believe them to be as
valid as the Bible. Amongst other things in his visions he saw an old
friend of his who had died many years previous, and this friend taught
him four songs. They were mainly about heaven, and there was not much
objection to them, except that they said that Sandyalla, the name of
this friend, told him some things. This was a species of spiritualism
perpetuated in song. He taught these songs to his friends. When he could
no longer come to church he instituted church services at his house,
twice on each Sabbath and on Thursday evening, to correspond with ours.
Hence I could not attend them, and his brothers, who leaned toward the
Catholic religion, and Billy Clams had every thing their own way. When I
went to see him he was glad to have me sing and hold services in my way.
The whole affair became mixed. He died June, 1881, and his relations
asked me to attend the funeral. I did so. They also prepared a long
service of his own and Catholic song and prayers, of lighted candles and
ceremonies which they went through with after I was done. (It was the
first and last funeral in which they and I had a partnership.)

He had two brothers and a brother-in-law, the head chief, who inclined
to the Catholic religion. They had always given as an excuse for not
coming to church that as Big Bill could not come they went to his house
for his benefit and held services. But after his death their services
did not cease. They kept them up as an opposition, partly professing
that they were Catholics, and partly saying that their brother’s last
words and songs were very precious to them, and they must get together,
talk about what he had said and sing his songs. In course of time this
proved a source of great trouble--one of the most severe trials which we
had. More will be told of this under the head of Dark Days.

About the only good thing, as far as I knew, in connection with these
visions, was that they induced him to give up his tamahnous, or Indian
doctors, and he advised his relations to do the same. He said that in
his visions he had learned that God did not wish such things.

After his death his brother told me that Big Bill had foretold events
which actually took place, as the sickness and death of several persons,
and so they believed his visions to have come from God. It may have been
so. I could not prove the contrary, but it was very hard for me to
believe it. Big Bill never told me those prophecies, nor did his brother
tell me of them until after each event occurred. Singly after each death
or sickness took place I was informed that he had foretold it.



February, 1883, covered about the darkest period I have seen during the
ten years. It was due to several causes.

(1) _The Half-Catholic Movement._--Ever since I have been here some of
the Indians leaned toward the Catholic Church, when they leaned toward
any white man’s church, because of their instruction thirty years ago.
In 1875 some of them spoke to me quite earnestly about inviting Father
Chirouse, a prominent Catholic missionary, to come here and help me, a
partnership about which I cared nothing. The matter slumbered, only
slightly showing itself, until the time of the sickness and death of Big
Bill. For two or three years previous to this Billy Clams professed to
have reformed and become a Christian, but it was Catholic Christianity
he had embraced, and he often held some kind of service at his house,
occasionally coming to our church; but very few, if any, were attracted
to it. After Big Bill’s death the affair took definite shape, there
being a combination of Big Bill’s songs and prayers and those of Billy
Clams. The head chief was brother-in-law to Big Bill, and threw his
influence in favor of the opposition church, and a considerable number
were attracted to it. Religious affairs thus became divided and a number
lost interest in the subject and went nowhere to church.

(2) _John Slocum._--Affairs went on this way from June, 1881, until
November, 1882; their efforts apparently losing interest for want of
life. At that time John Slocum, an Indian who had many years before
lived on the reservation, but who had for six or seven years lived
twelve or fourteen miles away, apparently died, or else pretended to
die, I can not determine which, though there is considerable evidence to
me and other whites that the latter was true. The Indians believed that
he really died. He remained in that state about six hours, when he
returned to life, and said that he had been to heaven and seen wonderful
visions of God and the future world. He said that he could not get into
heaven, because that God had work for him to do here, and had sent him
back to preach to the Indians. According to his order a church was built
for him, and he held services which attracted Indians from all around.
At first his teaching agreed partly with what he had learned from me,
partly with the Catholic religion, and partly with neither, but he was
soon captured by the Catholics, baptized, and made a priest. There was
much intercourse between him and Billy Clams and friends. Their waning
church was greatly revived and ours decreased.

(3) _Mowitch Man._--Mainly through the influence of John Slocum, another
Indian on the reservation, Mowitch Man, who had two wives, but had some
influence, was roused to adopt some religion. His consisted partly in
following John Slocum, but largely in his own dreams. For a time he
affiliated somewhat with Billy Clams and his set, but not always, being
rather too dreamy for them, and at last there came a complete separation
and we had a third church.

(4) _White Members._--Owing to orders from the government, the agent and
all of the white employees, except the school-teacher, the physician,
and an industrial teacher, were removed. The school-teacher and wife
were excellent people, and willing to do all that they could, but he had
taken charge about the first of February and every thing was new to him.
The government had promised an industrial teacher to aid him, but the
one procured had been drowned while coming on the steamer _Gem_, that
had been burned, and an old gentleman had to be taken in his place for a
time, who was good and willing, but unable to do what was required. This
threw additional work on the school-teacher, which almost crushed him,
and I dared not call on him for much help, but rather had to assist him.
He and his wife were the only white resident members the church had
except the pastor and his wife.

(5) _The Government Physician._--Unfortunately the physician proved to
be the wrong man in the wrong place, but was retained for a time because
it was impossible to obtain any one else who was better. When the agent
left the previous fall, by orders from Washington, he was in charge of
the reservation until February. His moral and religious influence in
many points was at zero. The less said about him the better, but we had
to contend against his influence.

(6) _Indian Church Members._--Previous to this time nineteen Indians had
been received into the church on the reservation. Of these four had
died, two had been suspended, and another ought to have been, but for
good reasons was suffered to remain for a time; two more were sisters
of Billy Clams, and had gone with his church, but were not suspended
because the church thought it best to be lenient with them for a time on
account of their ignorance and the strong influence brought to bear on
them; three had moved away, and there were seven left, three of whom
were school-girls.

The previous summer there were two young men who had assisted
considerably in church work, and I was hoping much from them, but one of
them in getting married had done very badly, had been locked up in jail
and suspended from the church, and thus far, although I had kindly urged
him, and it had been kindly received as a general thing, yet he had
refused to make the public acknowledgment which the church required of
him. The other, with so many adverse influences to contend against as
there then were on the reservation, found it hard work to stand as a
Christian without doing much as a teacher.

During the previous spring there had been considerable religious
interest, and four men with their families had taken a firm stand for
the right, but in August one of them for wrong-doing had been put in
jail, and in the fall two others had fallen into betting and gambling at
a great Indian wedding, and the remaining one, a sub-chief, whom I
thought a suitable candidate for church membership, had declined to
unite with the church when I suggested the subject to him.

(7) _An Indian Inspector._--About the last of January, 1883, an
inspector visited the reservation. I would not speak evil of our rulers,
and personally he treated me with respect, and gave me all the
privileges for which I could ask: but he was a rough, profane man. I
have been much in the company of rough loggers and miners, but never, I
think, met a man who was so rough and impolite in the presence of ladies
as he was, nor have I ever had so many oaths repeated in my house, nor
have my children heard so many from dirty, despised, heathen Indians for
a long time, if ever. His intercourse with the Indians was more rough
and profane than with me, and any thing but a help to their morality. He
so offended Chehalis Jack, the only chief who remained on our side, that
he did not come to church for a month. The influence he left with the
school-children was also largely against religion. Through his influence
my interpreter either refused to interpret, or did the work in so poor a
manner that all were disgusted with him.

This seemed to cap the climax, and during February hardly an Indian who
could not understand English came to church. There were present only the
school-children, a very few whites, and occasionally a very few of the
older Indians, nearly all of whom had previously been in school, so that
I did not have occasion to preach in Indian during the whole of that

I felt somewhat discouraged, and then thought more seriously of leaving
than at any other time during the ten years. I however determined to
wait until July, during which time I expected to have opportunities to
consult with several whose advice I valued, and in the meantime await
further developments.



There was one good result from the whole excitement: it kept the subject
of religion prominently before the people. It did not die of stagnation,
as it had almost seemed to do during some previous years. In my visits I
was well treated and was asked many questions on the subject. I was
welcomed at two or three of the logging-camps during the winter for an
evening service, where I talked Bible to them as plainly as I could.
They at least asked me to go to them, although they would not come to
our church. A constant call, too, came for large Bible pictures. In
March a barrel came from the Pearl-street Church in Hartford,
Connecticut, full of clothes and substantial good things, the value of
which I estimated at about a hundred and twenty dollars. This came when
the whites were mostly gone, salary failing, and seemed to be a voice
from above, saying, “You go on with the work and I will take care of the

During the month of March some of the older Indians came back again to
church, so that I could hold the service in Indian. There had been three
whom I had been willing to receive into the church for some time, and
during the latter part of the month I found two more. The sub-chief who
had declined joining in January was one of them and a policeman was
another--both men of influence. So, on the first Sabbath in April, the
five were received into the church, and we rejoiced with trembling.
These had seen the whole opposition; they had mingled with its followers
and had refused to join them, and hence were not likely to wander off
into those errors. This was more of the older Twana Indians who had
never been in school than had united with the church since its
organization. These gave up horse-racing, betting, gambling, and all of
tamahnous except that which had reference to the sick, to which they
held as a superstition but not a religion. I felt that on this point
they were as children, or persons with their heads and hearts in the
right direction but with their eyes only half-open. In July two Indian
women and a school-girl were added to the number and in October another
school-girl and a woman. These drew with them so many that we had a
respectable congregation.



Affairs went on about the same until August. The report then was that
Billy Clams had been to John Slocum’s and that they had arranged to have
a great time. He came back and an invitation was extended to the whole
reservation to go to John Slocum’s, where it was said that four women
were to be turned into angels; they would receive revelations directly
from heaven, and many wonderful things would be done. Two logging-camps
out of four were induced to shut down completely for the time, and some
people went from one other. They were told that they would be lost if
they did not go; that the baptism of those whom I had baptized was good
for nothing, being done with common water, and that they must go and be
baptized again, and that the world was coming to an end in a few days.
About thirty-five Indians went from here and many others from other
places, and there was great excitement. Some Catholic ceremonies were
held, something similar to the old black tamahnous ceremonies being
added to them. These put the patient into a state somewhat like that of
mesmerism, baptizing it with the name of religion. Visions were
abundant; four people, it was said, died and were raised to life again;
women, professing to be angels, tried to fly around. People went around
brushing and striking others until some were made black for a week, the
professed intent being to brush off their sins. A shaking took hold of
some of them, on the same principle, I thought, that fifty years ago
nervous jerks took hold of some people at the South and West at their
exciting camp-meetings; and this continued with them afterward until
they gained the name of the shaking set. Some acted very much like crazy
people, and some indecent things were done. It was reported that they
saw myself, Mowitch Man, and others in hell; that I was kept on the
reservation to get the lands of the Indians away from them, and that I
told lies in church. Such reports came to the reservation after a few
days that the teacher here, who was in charge of the reservation,
thought that he had better go and see it and perhaps try to stop it. He
took two policemen and the interpreter with him and went there. He
stayed one night and talked to them so plainly that they returned a day
or two afterward; but their nervous excitement was not over. Some of
them, as they returned, went to their homes, and a little cooling off,
together with the talk of their friends, brought them to their senses;
but about half of the number kept on. They mainly consisted of those who
had been at work in the logging-camp of David, Dick & Co. Dick was head
chief, and David was a brother of Big Bill and, next to Billy Clams, was
the leader in the excitement. Their camp was eight miles from the
reservation; but for about two weeks they stayed on the reservation,
singing, brushing off sins, shaking, and professing to worship God in
their own way. The excitement and other things, however, made Ellen, the
wife of David, sick; in a few days her infant child died, and they
thought she was about to die. Chief Dick was sick for more than a week.
One of David’s oxen, worth about a hundred and fifty dollars, mired, and
for want of care died; and it seemed as if God were taking things into
his own hands. The shaking set now said that all tamahnous was bad and
that they would have no Indian doctor for their sick. Ellen had a sister
who lived at the Chehalis, a day and a half’s ride distant, and she was
sent for. When she came she was determined to have an Indian doctor, and
with considerable of a war of words she conquered Ellen’s husband and
the whole set, and took Ellen off to an Indian doctor. There were two or
three in the logging-camp who were tired of the affair, for they had
lost three weeks of the best of weather for work, so they reorganized
their shattered forces and moved to their camp. Ellen’s husband and son,
who also belonged to the set, now neglected her. They furnished her
almost nothing, neither food, clothes, nor bedding, and when she wished
to have her little boy, they would not allow it. If they could have had
control of her they would have taken her to their camp, taken care of
her, and held their ceremonies over her; they came twice to see her, but
the Indian doctors would not be partners with their shakings, and drove
them off. On the eighth of September she died, and her sister had
possession of the body. All of the members of our church, Indian
doctors, and all who were opposed to the shaking set, now joined company
with her sister. They asked me if the body might be brought to our
church and kept there until the coffin should be made, and if I would
hold the funeral services. This had often been done in previous
funerals, and I could not well have said no if I had wished so to do. I
consented, but saw plainly that it was more than an ordinary request.
They feared that her husband would come and claim the body. Before her
death she had requested her sister not to give her body to her husband
because he had neglected her so. The contest was to be over this, and
they thought that if the body was in my possession her husband would
probably not obtain it. A strange contest. But the body was brought to
the church and left there. About noon the next day I met her husband and
several friends about three miles from the agency, apparently coming to
it. They asked about the body, and I told them all about it. They said
that they were coming to the agency, and wanted to take the body, have
their services over it, and bury it. I was being drawn into the contest,
but with my eyes open. As a general thing, a man certainly had a right
to the body of his wife. But they left, as I thought, a place of escape,
by saying that they should go and see her sister. If she gave them the
body, they would take it and bury it in their way, but if not, they
wished me to hold funeral services over it and bury it in the best
manner possible. I was satisfied with that remark, for I wished, if
possible, to let them fight it out. I came home immediately, and told
our side these things, most of whom where gathered at the agency. After
this the coffin was finished; she was placed in it, a few words were
said, and I was requested to keep the body until the next day, when the
funeral was to take place. Three hours had now passed since I came home,
but David and company had not arrived. They had turned aside and held
their services during that time. All of our side started for their
homes. But they had not gone far, and I had only been at my house a few
minutes, when I was called to the door to meet Ellen’s husband and son,
Chief Dick, Billy Clams, and others. They asked me where the body was,
and I told them. They said that her son wished to see his mother. I had
no objections. Her son then said that he should take the body to his
house, keep it for three days with lights burning at her head and feet,
and then bury her with their ceremonies. He did not ask me for her, but
said he should take her. Had her husband said so, I should have been in
an awkward position. I asked if they had seen her sister and obtained
her consent, as they had said they would do. They replied that they had
not seen her. I told them that the body had been placed in my charge for
the night, and I should not give it up until her sister had consented;
that when any thing, be it a horse or a trunk, was left in my
possession, I expected to care for it until the one who placed it with
me called for it; that I had waited three hours for them to come, and
they had not done so, and that they had not been to see her sister, as
they had promised to do; that if they would go and see her sister, and
gain her consent, I would willingly give it up. I appealed to the
physician, then present, and temporarily in charge of the agency, for
protection. He had been here only about six weeks, and was at first a
little afraid that they would take it out during the night. But I was
not afraid of that. Such an act would kill their religion, and Billy
Clams had been in jail too much to dare to advise such an act. I told
them I should not unlock the church to let them see her unless they
promised to let her remain. They at last consented to all my
propositions. Had I yielded then I would have gained great enmity from
all of our side, who had been at much expense to put her propperly in
the coffin, and would have made no friends on the other side. They
promised to bring her sister down the next morning and settle it. The
next morning Billy Clams came alone, and when I asked if all were soon
coming, he replied that it was all settled; that they had talked with
her sister some the previous night, and also on that morning; that her
sister’s words had been very fierce, and that they had concluded, since
the body was in the church, it was not best to take it out, and that I
should have complete control of the funeral; that they would not come to
the church if I did not wish them to do so, but that they would wait on
the road to the grave until the services were done, for they would like
to go to the grave, if I had no objections. I replied that I was glad of
their decision, and that I would be very glad to have them all attend
the services in the church. They all came; were very cordial to our
side. Some of them took especial pains to cross themselves and shake
hands with my children and myself. We all went to the grave together;
her son made presents to all there: and the first battle was fought and
won by our Great Captain.



But although cast down, they were not destroyed. I was a little
surprised to see how strongly they still clung to their religion. They
returned to their camp, held their services often from six o’clock until
twelve at night, shook by the hour, lit candles and placed them on their
heads and danced around with them thus, sang loud enough to be heard for
miles away, acted much like Indian doctors, only they professed to try
to get rid of sins instead of sickness, and so acted that in the
physician’s opinion it was likely to make some of them crazy. When Ellen
was first taken sick I had more than half-expected that she would die,
for I believed that Providence would take away one of their number
before their eyes would be open enough to see the foolishness of it--but
I hoped that one death would be enough. In the meantime the agent made
us a flying visit, and made some threats of what he might do if the
foolishness was not stopped. As long as it was purely a Catholic church
he felt that he had no right to interfere, but now the Catholic
ceremonies were a very small part, merely like a thin spreading of
butter over something else, and he knew that if a Catholic priest had
charge he would have locked them up very quickly. He proposed to visit
us again about the middle of October, and spread a report that if they
did not stop he might depose the chiefs and banish Billy Clams. He had
the right to do the latter, because, when Billy Clams had returned to
the reservation a few years previous, after having resided at Port
Madison for quite a time, he was allowed to come only on promise of good
behavior. His misdeeds were not to be forgotten, but only laid on a
shelf for future reference, if required. But this threat apparently did
not frighten them. The chiefs did not care if they were deposed, were
about ready to resign, and did not wish to have any thing more to do
with the “Boston” religion or the agent. Billy Clams was ready, if need
be, to suffer as Christ did: he was willing to be a martyr.

The agent came, as he had promised to do, and spent eight days with us.
He first took time to look over affairs quite thoroughly, and felt a
little afraid to begin the contest, fearing that it would do more injury
to fight them than to let them severely alone. But at last he decided
that when so many of the Indians who were trying to do right were
calling for help in the battle, and that since he would thus have quite
a strong Indian influence to support him, it was not right or wise for
him to refuse their appeal. He first sent for the two chiefs. They came,
putting on quite a show of courage. He talked to them quite strongly,
and they resigned. It was better for the agent that they should do so,
than that he should depose them, and they preferred to do so, in order
that they could say to the rest of the Indians that they did not care.
But the tide was turning. As soon as they had resigned the other Indians
did not spare them, but ridiculed them until they became very
crestfallen. On the Sabbath the agent told all the Indians that he
wished them to come to church. They did so, and he talked to them on the
religious aspect of the affair as far as was proper on that day. The
next day he held a council. He did not threaten Billy Clams, but told
him how there had always been trouble where Indians had tried to have
two religions at the same place; how in order to prevent this trouble
the government, eleven years previous, assigned different agencies to
different denominations, and he advised him to return to Port Madison,
from which he had come, where the Indians were all Catholics, if he
wished to be one. He made a long speech, as strong as he could, on the
subject, told them that the shaking part of the religion must be stopped
on the reservation, and appointed new chiefs, on whom he could depend,
to see that this order was enforced. They were conquered, and consulted
what was best to do. They all agreed to abandon the shaking part of the
so-called religion. A part were in favor of keeping up the purely
Catholic religion, but the tide had turned too much for this. Other
Indians had overcome their fears and talked strongly, and at last they
decided to abandon every thing in connection with their services. The
first that I knew of this decision was that Billy Clams came to me and
told me of this decision, and said that his set were now without any
religion, and that if I would go and teach them they would be glad to
have me do so, but if not, they should go without any services. I
replied that I would gladly teach them, and went that evening to hold a
service with them. There were two young men in the band who had long
been in school. These now took hold well, read to their friends from the
Bible, made and taught them new songs, and the victory was gained.



Still the process of reconstruction was slow. The wounds which had been
made were deep, and distrust reigned between the two parties for a time.
Although conquered, all were not converted, and some of them at times
longed for the flesh-pots of Egypt. Two things gave much opportunity for
gossip during the following winter. The business of logging had gone
down and the Indians had little to do. Also, during the previous summer,
the chiefs had not attended to their proper business, and had let a
number of crimes go unpunished, especially drunkenness, and the new
board of chiefs had so many to punish that it created considerable
feeling. At first the shakers took hold well in our meetings, as well as
if they were one with us. But a child of one of them was taken fatally
sick, and while nothing could be proved, yet there was evidence enough
to convince most of the Indians and whites that there was a little
shaking among them, and then the other Indians lost confidence in their
sincerity and did not longer want them as leaders of religion, and so
they dropped into the common ranks.

A slightly new element also kept affairs disturbed. It was Big John. At
the time of the big meeting in August he was present and was attacked
with the shaking as badly as any one. His wife belonged in that region,
and so he did not return to the reservation with the other Indians, and
was not here when the victory over them was obtained. He went to Mud Bay
and set up a party of his own, and he carried the shaking farther than
the originators had done. He even out-Heroded Herod. He claimed to be
Christ, a claim which was allowed him by his followers, and at the head
of about seventy-five of them he rode through the streets of Olympia
with his hands outstretched as Christ was when crucified. After the
conquest had been made at Skokomish, he was ordered by the agent to
return home, as he was creating so much trouble among other Indians
under Agent Eells. But he was slow to obey. He came once in November,
when he was so attacked in regard to his claims of being Christ by the
school-teacher and the Indians, that he gave up this claim and said he
was only a prophet. As he had not brought his wife with him, he returned
to her, and it was not until several orders had been given for him to
come home, and policemen had gone for him more than once, that he came.
His orders then were to remain on the reservation, and stop shaking. He
remained here for a time, but kept up a quiet kind of shaking more or
less of the time. At last he left the reservation and went back without
permission. He was again brought home and locked up for about four
weeks. This conquered him, and he made but little further trouble, and
this pretty effectually killed the return of any on the reservation to

Three of the shaking set have now been admitted to the church, after six
and nine months’ probation.

Off of the reservation this shaking spread. It took almost entire
possession of the Indians on the Chehalis Reservation, and entered the
school in such a way that the agent and school-teacher there felt
obliged to stop it by force, or allow the school to be broken up.

At Squaxon there were no government employees and it was not possible to
put a complete stop to it there, so it was allowed to have its own way
more. Their great prophecy has been that the world would come to an end
on the Fourth of July, 1884, but, although they assembled and held a big
meeting, and waited for the expected result, it did not come, and so
their faith has been somewhat shaken, although now they have extended
the time one year. Going to various places to obtain work has also
broken them into very small parties, and also occupied them, so that at
present it seems to be dying.



He was born near Port Townsend, about 1847, and belonged to the now
extinct tribe of the Chemakums. His father died when he was very young,
through the effects of intemperance, and also many others of his
relations, and this made him a bitter opponent of drinking.

When ten years old he went to live with the family of Mr. James Seavey,
of Port Townsend, and went with them in 1859 to San Francisco, where he
remained for a year or two. He then embarked on a sailing-vessel, and
spent most of the time until 1863 or 1864 near the mouth of the Amoor
River, in Asiatic Russia. Returning then to Puget Sound, he served under
the government at the Neah Bay Reservation for a time, but about 1868 he
came to the Skokomish Reservation, where he ever afterward made his
home, serving as interpreter a large share of the time, eight years
under Agent Eells.

He understood four Indian languages: the

[Illustration: JOHN F PALMER.]

Twana, Nisqually, Clallam, and Chinook jargon, also the Russian and
English, and could read and write English quite well. He had a library
worth fifty dollars, and took several newspapers and magazines, both
Eastern and Western, although he only went to school two or three weeks
in his life. To Mr. Seavey’s family, and the captain’s wife on the
vessel when in Russian waters, he always felt grateful for his

When the church was organized at Skokomish, 1874, he united with it,
being the first Indian to do so. He lived to see twenty others unite
with it. On two points he was very firm: against intemperance and the
heathen superstitions: being far in advance of any member of the tribe
on the latter point, with the exception of M. F., soon to be
mentioned--in fact, it was truly said of him, that he was more of a
white man than an Indian.

He loved the prayer-meeting, and while temporarily living at Seabeck, a
short time before his death, where he was at work, thirty miles from
home, he returned to Skokomish to spend the holidays, and remained an
additional week so that he might be present at the daily meetings of the
Week of Prayer. He constantly took part in the prayer-meetings, and with
the other older male members of the church took his turn in leading

He had no children of his own, but brought up his wife’s two sisters.
When he united with the church, he said: “Now I want my wife to become a
Christian,” and he lived to see her and her two sisters unite with the
church. The elder of them married, and her child, Leila Spar, was the
first Indian child who received the rite of infant baptism, July 4,
1880. He was killed instantly at Seabeck, February 2, 1881, while at
work at the saw-mill, having been accidentally knocked off from a
platform, and striking on his head among short sharp-cornered refuse
lumber and slabs about ten feet below. The side of his head was crushed
in, and after he was picked up he never spoke, and only breathed a few
times. He was far in advance of his tribe, and has left an influence
which will be felt for many years to come. It was a pleasure once for me
to hear a rough, swearing white man, in speaking of him, say: “John
Palmer is a gentleman!”

[Illustration: MILTON FISHER.]



He was a full-blooded Twana Indian, but from his earliest infancy lived
with his step-father, who was a white man. A part of the time he lived
very near to the reservation, and afterward about thirty miles from it.
The region where he lived was entirely destitute of schools and church
privileges. His step-father, however, when he realized that the
responsibility of the moral and Christian training of his children
rested wholly upon himself, took up the work quite well. His own early
religious training, which had been as seed long buried, now came back to
him, and he gave his children some good instruction which had excellent
effect on M. Still when he was twenty-two years of age he had never been
to church, school, Sabbath-school, or a prayer-meeting. He was a steady,
industrious young man, had learned to farm, log, build boats,--being of
a mechanical turn of mind,--and had built for himself a good sloop. When
he was twenty-one he had learned something of the value of an education
from his lack of it, for he could barely read and write in a very slow
way, and was tired of counting his fingers when he traded and attended
to business. Therefore he saved his money until he had about two hundred
dollars, and when he was twenty-two he requested the privilege of coming
to the reservation and going to school. It was granted, not like other
Indian children, for they were boarded and clothed at government
expense, but because his step-father was a white man he was required to
board and clothe himself, his tuition being free. He willingly did his
part. This was a little after New Year’s, 1877. He improved his time
better than any person who has ever been in school, oftentimes studying
very late. Thus he spent three winters at school, working at his home
during the summers.

A few days before he left for home at the close of his first winter was
our communion season. On the Thursday evening previous was our
preparatory lecture and church-meeting, and the man and his wife where
he was boarding presented themselves as candidates for admission.
Nothing, however, was said him about it. Indeed it is doubtful whether
much had ever been said to him personally on the subject, for he was of
a quiet disposition. But a day or two afterward he spoke to the family
where he was boarding and said that he would like to join the church,
but had been almost afraid to ask. The word was soon passed to my
father, and the first I knew about it was that he came to me and said:
“See, here is water, what doth hinder me from being baptized?” I said:
“What do you mean by that?” His reply was: “I do not know but that we
have just such a case among us.” And then he explained about M. Another
church-meeting was held and he was received into the church on the
following Sabbath. Previous to this he had never witnessed a baptism or
the administration of the Lord’s Supper.

When he had finished going to school, he received in 1879 the
appointment of government carpenter on the reservation, the first Indian
ever in that place, and the first Indian employee on the reservation
except the interpreter receiving the same wages as a white man. He
remained in this position a few years, when his health failed and he
resigned. No fault was found with his work, for he was very faithful and
steady, and could be depended on to work alone, or to be in charge of
apprentices and others with no fear that the work would be slighted. He
afterward, for a time, lived mainly with the whites, as the government
cut down the pay for all Indians so low that he could earn much better
wages elsewhere. He often lived with a very rough class of whites at
saw-mills and among loggers, but he held fast to his profession. In his
quiet way he spoke many an effectual word for Christ, and gained the
respect of those with whom he mingled by his consistent Christian life.
Lately, however, he has gone to the Puyallup Reservation, where he has
secured a good piece of land and has taken a leading part among those



F. A. was a Clallam, and one of the earlier school-boys. He had left the
reservation previous to 1874 and lived and worked with his friends at
Port Discovery. In April, 1875, he returned with three of his Port
Discovery friends on a visit in good style. He said that he had worked
steadily, earned hundreds of dollars, and he gave a brother of his in
school quite a sum; that he had taught a small Indian school; that he
was trying to have church services on the Sabbath; that the Indians at
Port Discovery were about to buy some land for one hundred and fifty
dollars; and that he had now come for advice, religious instruction,
school-books, and the like. The agent furnished him with school-books
and papers, and I gave him four written prayers, two Chinook-jargon
songs, and a Testament. This was only a week after Balch and some of the
Indians at Jamestown had visited us, who were making good progress. One
of the employees on seeing F. A. come, just after the other (Clallam)
Indians had visited us, said: “The agent is making his influence felt
far and wide for good.” But before F. A. left he wanted to be made head
chief of the tribe. The agent said that the present chief was doing
well, that he had no good reason for removing him, and that he would not
do so unless a majority of the tribe desired it, but that he would make
F. A. a policeman if he wished so to be. But he did not want this. He
said that after what he had told his friends before leaving home, he
would be ashamed to go back without his being made chief. His three
friends said also that they wished him to be chief. This showed that
something was wrong, and by the time all was ferreted out, it was found
that he had procured the horses for his party at Olympia at a high
price, which he had said the agent would pay, that his style was all put
on, and that in reality he was very worthless. It cost his friends more
than twenty dollars to pay for the use of the horses, which he had
afterward to work out, as he had no money. He tried to run away with one
of the girls not long afterward, and never said any thing more about his
school, church, and land. In 1883 he returned to the reservation to
live, but does not help the Indians much in regard to Christianity.

L. was from Port Ludlow, fifty-five miles away, a half-breed, and was in
school for a year or two. In the fall of 1879 he took hold well in
prayer-meetings, and wished to join the church; but he was too desirous
for this, it seemed to me, and answered questions too readily. The
church deliberated long about him, for several were not fully satisfied,
yet, on the whole, it was thought best to receive him, and it was done
in January, 1880. The next summer he went home to remain, but while in
most respects he has been steady and industrious, having a good
reputation about not drinking or gambling, yet he does not honor a
Christian profession.

M. was a half-breed school-boy, and was brought up in school. After the
first three school-boys began to think that they were Christians, he
joined them. After having been a year on probation, he was received into
the church in July, 1878, when he was thirteen or fourteen years old. He
did fairly until he left the reservation, three or four years afterward,
when he went to a white logging-camp where his brother and
brother-in-law were at work. Logging-camps are not noted for their
morals, and their influence on a young man can not be good in this
respect. He remained steadier than most whites around him, and his
instruction is not lost, but his Christian life is sadly dwarfed, if it
can be seen at all.

W. was among the first three of the school-boys to join the church,
after a full year’s probation, at the age of about thirteen. He stood
well for about two years, while in school, as a Christian, endured
considerable persecution, and was especially conscientious. But as he
grew older he went the wrong way. His father was a medicine-man, and
this probably had something to do with his life, for when he went out
into the outer Indian world he seemed to grow peculiarly hardened, so
that he seldom came to church or Sabbath-school, and did not treat
religion with the respect which the older Indians did who made no
pretensions to Christianity. For immoral conduct we were at last obliged
to suspend him.

As I look over the church-roll I find that nearly all the first Indian
members were from the school; then came the earlier uneducated Indians,
and then the later ones. It makes me sad when I see how many of the
first ones who have been educated have been suspended before they were
settled in life. Yet it must be said that those school children
prepared the way for the earlier uneducated Indians, and these likewise
prepared the way for the later ones. This second class watching the
failures of the first learned wisdom and stood firmer, and the last
class learning more wisdom by further observation have stood still

Simon Peter was one of the better Indian boys of the Twanas, and was in
school about as soon as he was old enough. A younger brother, Andrew,
was one of the first three of the school-boys to join us in January,
1877, and, like the brothers in the Bible, where Andrew first found
Christ and then led his brother Simon to him, so now Andrew evidently
led Simon along until, in January, 1878, he joined the church. He
belonged to a good family and was well respected and I hoped much from
him in the future, but in this I was doomed to disappointment, for
consumption had marked him as its own, and in June, 1879, he died. Just
before he died he took his brother’s hand, said he hoped this brother
would not turn back from Christianity as some boys had done, and thus
held him till he died. A young man of the Puyallup tribe, who is now an
Indian preacher, told me that he owed his conversion to a letter he
received from Simon Peter. Thus, “being dead, he yet speaketh.”



In the section about the Field and Work some account has been given of
the beginning of civilization at this place. The Indians there had at
first no help from the government, because they were not on a
reservation. They had, however, some worthy aspirations, and realized
that if they should rise at all they must do so largely through their
own efforts. This has been an advantage to them, for they have become
more self-reliant than those on the reservation, who have been too
willing to be carried.

The agent, on some of his first visits to them, gave them some religious
instruction, and at times they gathered together on the Sabbath for some
kind of religious worship, which then consisted mainly in singing a song
or two and talking together.

In March, 1875, their chief, Lord James Balch, while on a business visit
to the reservation, was very anxious to obtain religious instruction.
All was given to him that I could furnish, which consisted of
instruction, a Chinook song or two, and a few Bible pictures. He
returned with more earnestness to hold meetings at home.

My first visit to them was the next fall, in a tour with the agent, and
then their village was named Jamestown, after their chief. Since then I
have generally been able to spend two Sabbaths, twice a year, with them.

They continued their meetings, and usually met in one of their best
houses for church on the Sabbath. After a time they selected one of
their number, called Cook House Billy, to pray in their church services,
as he had lived for some time in a white family, could talk English, and
knew at least more about the external forms of worship than the rest.

In 1877 the Indians began to think about erecting a church-building for
themselves. They originated the idea, but it was heartily seconded by
the agent and missionary. About the time of its dedication Balch said it
was no white man who suggested the idea of building it to him, but he
thought it must have been Jesus. It was so far completed by April, 1878,
as to be dedicated on the eighth of that month.

About a hundred and twenty-five persons were seated in the house: ninety
Clallams, ten Makah Indians, and twenty-five whites. The house is small,
sixteen by twenty-four feet. It was made of upright boards, battened and
whitewashed. It was ceiled and painted overhead. It was not quite done,
for it was afterward clothed and papered and a belfry built in front,
but was so far finished as to be used. Although not large or quite
finished, yet there were three good things about it: it was built
according to their means, was paid for as far as it was finished, and
was the first church-building in the county. Its total cost at that
time, including their work, was about a hundred and sixty-six dollars.
Of this, thirty-seven dollars and fifty cents were given by white
persons, mostly on the reservation, four dollars were given by Twana
Indians, and some articles, as paint, lime, nails, windows, and door,
came from their government annuities, it being their desire that these
things should be given for this purpose rather than to themselves
personally. It was the first white building in the village, and had the
effect of making them whitewash other houses afterward.

The evening before the dedication the first prayer-meeting ever among
them was held. Five Indians took part, most or all of whom were
accustomed to ask a blessing at their meals. This prayer-meeting has
never since been suffered to die.

It was not, however, until the next December that any of them became
members of the church. Then two men joined. They really united with the
church at Skokomish, although they were received at Jamestown. For a
time this became a branch of the Skokomish church. The first communion
service was then held among them. Only five persons in all participated
in the communion.

No more of those Indians joined until April, 1880, when four more became
members, two of whom were Indians, and the next December two more

A rather singular incident happened a year later. Some of the older
Indians, including the chief, were not satisfied with the slow growth of
the church; but instead of remedying affairs by coming out boldly for
Christ, they chose three young men, who were believed to be moral at
least, and asked them to join and help the cause along. These consented,
although they had never taken any part in religious services or been
known as Christians. As I was not informed of the wish until Sabbath
morning, I did not think it wise to receive them then, but replied that
if they held out well until my next visit, in five months, I should have
no objection. They were hardly willing at first to wait so long, but at
last submitted. Before the five months had passed, one of them, the
least intelligent, had gone back to his old ways, where he still
remains, and the other two were received into the church, one of whom
has done especially well and has been superintendent of the
Sabbath-school. Yet it always seemed a singular way of becoming
Christians, more as if made so by others than of their own free will,
they simply consenting to the wishes of others. God works in various

During the winter of 1880-81 a medicine-man made a feast on Sabbath
evening and invited all the Indians to it. It was to be, however, a bait
for a large amount of tamahnous, which was to take place. The Indians
went, the members of the church as well as the rest, leaving the evening
service in order to attend it. The school-teacher felt very badly and
wrote me immediately about it; but a little later he learned that on
that same evening the Christian Indians, feeling that they were doing
wrong, left the place before the feast was over, went to one of their
houses, where they held a prayer-meeting and confessed their sin, and on
the following Thursday evening, at the general prayer-meeting made a
public confession. We could ask for nothing more, but could thank the
Holy Spirit for inclining them thus to do before any white person had
spoken to them about it.

Knowing of four new ones who wished to join the church in April, 1882, I
thought that the time had come to organize them into a church by
themselves. So letters were granted by the Skokomish church to seven who
lived at Jamestown, and the church was organized April 30, 1882, with
eleven members, nine of whom were Indians. The services were in such a
babel of languages that their order is here given: Singing in Clallam
and then in English; reading of the Scriptures in English; prayer by
Rev. H. C. Minckler, of the Methodist-Episcopal church, the
school-teacher; singing in Clallam; preaching in Chinook, translated
into Clallam; singing in Chinook; baptism of an infant son of a white
church member in English; prayer in English; singing in English;
propounding the articles of faith and covenant in English, translated
into Clallam, together with the baptism of four adults; giving of the
right hand of fellowship, in English, translated into Clallam; prayer in
Chinook; singing in Chinook; talk previous to the distribution of the
bread, in Chinook, translated into Clallam; prayer in English;
distribution of the bread; talk in English; prayer in Chinook, followed
by the distribution of the cup; singing in English a hymn in which
nearly all the Indians could join; benediction in Chinook. A number of
their white neighbors gathered in, to the encouragement of the Indians,
six of whom communed with us.

The next fall three more joined, and seven more in 1883, one of whom was
a venerable white-haired white man, over seventy years old. In the fall
of that year five infants were baptized, the first belonging to the
Indians in the history of the church.

In the fall of 1883 three of them accompanied me on a missionary tour to
Clallam Bay. They gave their time, a week, and the American Missionary
Association paid their expenses. It was the first work of the kind which
they had done, and I was pleased with their earnestness and zeal. The
previous spring I had been there, and there were some things which made
me feel as if such a trip might do good. Still it is a hard field
because a majority of the men are over fifty, and, being in the
majority, practise and sing tamahnous, and go to potlatches a good share
of the time during the winter. There is very little white religious
influence near them.

When the day-school first began, in 1878, the teacher, Mr. J. W.
Blakeslee, began also a Sabbath-school. His successor, Rev. H. C.
Minckler, carried it on until he resigned in April, 1883, and no other
teacher was procured until early in 1884; but then they chose one of
their own church members, Mr. George D. Howell, who had been to school
some, and still carried on the school. He served until November, when he
temporarily left to obtain work, and Mr. Howard Chubbs was chosen as his

In 1880 they procured a small church-bell, the first in the county, and
added a belfry to the church.

Not all, however, of the people in the village can be called adherents
to Christianity. There is a plain division among them. Some are members
of the church, a few who are not attend church, and some hardly ever go,
but profess to belong to the anti-Christian party.

It is worthy of note that while Clallam County had so many people in it
as to be organized into a county in 1854, and had in 1880 nearly six
hundred white people, yet these Indians have the only church building in
the county, the only church-bell, hold the only regular prayer-meeting,
and at their church and on the Neah Bay Indian Reservation are the only
Sabbath-schools which are kept up steadily summer and winter. One white
person, who lives not far from Jamestown, said to me on one Sabbath, in
1880, as we came away from the church: “It is a shame, _it is a shame!_
that the Indians here are going ahead of the whites in religious
affairs. It is a wonder how they are advancing, considering the example
around them.”



He will always be known by this name, probably, though on the church
roll his name is written as William House Cook. He is a Clallam Indian,
of Jamestown. His early life was wild and dissipated, he being, like all
the rest of his tribe, addicted to drunkenness. At one time, when he was
living at Port Discovery, he became quite drunk. He was on the opposite
side of the bay from the mill, and, wishing for more whiskey, he started
across in a canoe for it; but he was so drunk that he had not gone far
before he upset his canoe, and had it not been for his wife, who was on
shore and went to his rescue, he would have been drowned.

In his early life he mingled much with the whites. He lived with a good
white family some of the time; worked in a cook-house at a saw-mill for
a time, where he gained his name; and once went to San Francisco in a
ship. Thus he learned to speak English quite well, and he knew more
about civilized ways, and even of religion, than any of the older
Indians at Jamestown. He entered willingly into the plan to buy land,
and soon after the people there first began to hold some kind of
services on the Sabbath, they selected him as the one to pray, hardly
because he was better than all the rest, though he was better than all
with two or three exceptions, but because he had been more with the
whites, and knew better how to pray. Soon after this, and long before he
joined the church, a report, which was probably true, was in circulation
that he had once or twice secretly drank some. Thereupon the chief took
him and talked strongly to him about it. The chief did not wish him to
be minister to his people if he was likely to do in that way, and at
last asked him if he thought he had a strong enough mind to be a
Christian for one year. The reply was, Yes. Then the questions were
successively asked if he was strong enough to last two years, five
years, ten years, all his life, and when he said Yes, he was allowed to
resume his duties as leader of religion.

After this he remained so consistent that he was one of the first two in
Jamestown to unite with the church, in December, 1878, when he was
supposed to be about thirty-three years old. The road supervisor in his
district sent his receipt for road taxes to him one year, addressing it
to Rev. Cook House Billy.

When the church was organized at Jamestown in 1882, he was unanimously
elected as deacon, and he has ever since filled that position.

Once, five or six years ago, when in Seattle, he was asked by a Catholic
Indian of his own tribe, belonging to Port Gamble, to drink some
whiskey, but he declined. When urged time and again to do so he still
refused, giving as his excuse that he belonged to the church. “So do I,”
said his tempter “but we drink, and then we can easily get the priest to
pardon us by paying him a little money.” “That is not the way we do in
our church,” said Billy.

But afterward, two years ago, he was very strongly tempted, and yielded,
while at Seattle. It was known, and soon after his return home he made
his acknowledgement to the church. On my next visit to them in the fall
he was reprimanded, and suspended as deacon for five weeks. He often
spoke of this fall of his, and seemed to be very sincere in his
repentance. In 1883, just before he and nearly all the Indians of his
village were going to Seattle again, either to fish or on their way to
pick hops, he sent me a letter in which was written: “One day I was
talking in meeting to them and said I hoped they would none of them
follow my example last summer about drinking, for I had never got over
it. I feel ashamed and feel bad every time I think about it, and hoped
none of them would have occasion to feel as I did.”

He is of a bright, sunny disposition, always cheerful, and has done more
for school and church than any of the rest of his tribe, unless it may
be the head chief, Balch. Sometimes he has boarded three children free
of cost, so that they might go to school, whose parents, if alive, lived
far away.

In 1881 two of his children died, a fact of which the opponents of
religion made use against Christianity, and he was severely tried, but
he stood firm. In 1883, with two others, he went to Clallam Bay with me
to preach the gospel to those Indians, the first actual missionary work
done by either Indian church. When he left his wife was sick but, as he
had promised to go, she would not keep him back, and he was willing to
trust her with God. When we returned she was well.

His wife is a true helpmeet to him. She did not join the church for a
year and a half after he did; but he afterward said that she was really
ahead of him, and urged him to begin and to stand fast. When I examined
her for reception into the church, I noticed one expression of hers
which I shall always remember. In speaking of her sorrow for her sins,
she said that her “heart cried” about them. An expression was in use,
which I also often used, that our hearts should be sick because of our
sins; but I had never used her expression, which was deeper. She is the
foremost among the women to take part in meeting, often beseeching them
with tears to turn into the Christian path.



A few years previous to the appointment of Agent Eells, in 1871, this
person was made head chief of the Clallams, although, until about 1873,
he could get drunk and fight as well as any Indian. At that time he took
the lead in the progress for civilization near Dunginess, as related in
Chapter V.; and, although once after that, on a Fourth of July, he was
drunk, yet he has steadily worked for the good of his tribe. He has had
a noted name, for an Indian, as an enemy to drunkenness, and his fines
and other punishments on his offending people have been heavy. He gave
more than any other one in the purchase of their land, and, in 1875, it
was named Jamestown in honor of him. He has taken a stand against
potlatches, not even going six miles to attend one when given by those
under him. For a long time he was firm against Indian doctors, though a
few times within about three years he has employed them when he has been
sick, and no white man’s remedies which he could obtain seemed to do
him any good. He was among the first three Indians to begin prayer, a
practice which he kept up several years. But when in 1878 the other two
united with the church, Balch declined to do so, although I had expected
him as much as I had the others. He gave as his excuse that as he was
chief, he would probably do something which would be used as an argument
against religion--an idea I have found quite common among the Indian
officers. In fact, a policeman once asked me if he could be a policeman
and a Christian at the same time. Balch said that whenever he should
cease being chief, he would “jump” into the church. He has continued as
chief until the present time, and his interest in religion has
diminished. At one time he seemed, in the opinion of the school-teacher,
to trust to his morality for salvation. Then he turned to the Indian
doctors, gave up prayer in his house, and now by no means attends church
regularly. Still he takes a kind of fatherly interest in seeing that the
church members walk straight; and the way in which he started and has
upheld civilization, morality, education, and temperance will long be
remembered both by whites and Indians, and its influence will continue
long after he shall die.



White people have almost universally been very kind to me, the Indians
generally so, but the elements have often been adverse. These have given
variety to my life--not always pleasant, but sufficient to form an item
here and there; and there is nearly always a comical side to most of
these experiences, if we can but see it.

One day in February, 1878, I started from Port Gamble for home with
eight canoes, but a strong head-wind arose. The Indians worked hard for
five hours, but traveled only ten miles and nearly all gave out, and we
camped on the beach. It rained also, and the wind blew still stronger so
that the trees were constantly falling near us. I had only a pair of
blankets, an overcoat, and a mat with me, but having obtained another
mat of the Indians, I made a slight roof over me with it and went to
sleep. About two o’clock in the morning I was aroused by the Indians,
when I learned that a very high tide had come and drowned them out. My
bed was on higher ground than theirs, but in fifteen minutes that ground
was three or four inches under water. We waded around, wet and cold, put
our things in the canoes and soon started. There was still some rain and
wind, and it was only by taking turns in rowing that we could keep from
suffering. In four hours we were at Seabeck, where we were made
comfortable, but that was a cold, long, dark, wintry morning ride.

I started from Jamestown for Elkwa, a distance of twenty-five miles, on
horseback, but, after going ten miles, the horse became so lame that he
could go no farther. I could not well procure another, so I proceeded on
foot. Soon I reached Morse Creek, but could find no way of crossing. The
stream was quite swift, having been swollen by recent rains. The best
way seemed to be to ford it. So, after taking off some of my clothes, I
started in. It was only about three feet deep, but so swift that it was
difficult to stand, and cold as a mountain stream in December naturally
is. But with a stick to feel my way, I crossed, and it only remained for
me to get warm, which I soon did by climbing a high hill.

Coming from Elkwa on another trip on horseback, with a friend, we were
obliged to travel on the beach for eight miles, as there was no other
road. The tide was quite high, the wind blowing, and the waves came in
very roughly. There were many trees lying on the beach, around which we
were compelled to canter as fast as we could when the waves were out.
But one time my friend, who was just ahead, passed safely, while I was
caught by the wave which came up to my side, and a part of which went
over my head. It was very fortunate that my horse was not carried off
his feet.

Once I was obliged to stay in one of their houses in the winter, a thing
I have seldom done, unless there is no white man’s house near, even in
the summer, when I have preferred to take my blankets and sleep outside.
The Indians have said that they are afraid the panthers will eat me; but
between the fleas, rats, and smoke (for they often keep their
old-fashioned houses full of smoke all night), sleep is not refreshing,
and the next morning I feel more like a piece of bacon than a minister.

Traveling in February with about seventy-five Indians, it was necessary
that I should stay all night in an Indian house to protect them from
unprincipled white men. The Indians at the village where we stayed were
as kind as could be, assigning me to their best house, where there was
no smoke; giving me a feather-bed, white sheets, and all very good
except the fleas. Before I went to sleep I killed four, in two or three
hours I waked up and killed fourteen, at three o’clock eleven more, and
in the morning I left without looking to see how many there were

But Indian houses are not the only unpleasant ones. Here we are at a
hotel, the best in a saw-mill town of four or five hundred people; but
the bar-room is filled with tobacco-smoke, almost as thick as the smoke
from the fires which often fills an Indian house. Here about fifty men
spend a great portion of the night, and some of them all night, in
drinking, gambling, and smoking. The house is accustomed to it, for the
rooms directly over the bar-room are saturated with smoke, and I am
assigned to one of these rooms. Before I get to sleep the smoke has so
filled my nostrils that I can not breathe through them, and at midnight
I wake up with a headache so severe that I can scarcely hold up my head
for the next twenty-four hours. It is not so bad, however, but that I
can do a little thinking on this wise: Who are the lowest--the Indians,
or these whites? The smoke is of equal thickness: that of the Indians,
however, is clean smoke from wood; that of the whites, filthy from
tobacco. The Indian has sense enough to make holes in the roof where
some of it may escape; the white man does not even do that much. The
Indian sits or lies near the ground, underneath a great portion of it;
the white man puts a portion of his guests and his ladies’ parlor
directly over it. Sleeping in the Indian smoke I come out well, although
feeling like smoked bacon, and a thorough wash cures it; but sleeping in
that of the white man I come out sick, and the brain has to be washed.

In August, 1879, with my wife and three babies, and three Indians, I was
coming home from a month’s tour among the Clallams, in a canoe. One
evening from five o’clock until nine the rain poured down, as it
sometimes does on Puget Sound. With all that we could do it was
impossible to keep dry. Oilcloth, umbrellas, and blankets would not keep
the rain out of the bottom of the canoe, or from reaching some of our
bedding. At nine o’clock we reached an old deserted house with half the
roof off, and we crawled into it. The roof was off where the fire-place
was situated, so we tried to dry ourselves, keep warm, and dry some
bedding, while holding umbrellas over us, in order that every thing
should not get wet as fast as it was dried. As soon as a few clothes
got dry, we rolled up a baby and he was soon asleep; and so on for three
hours we packed one after another away, until I was the only one left.
But the rest had all of the dry bedding. There was one pair of blankets
left, and they were soaked through. I knew that if I attempted to dry
them I might as well calculate to sit up until morning. So I warmed them
a little, got close to the warm places, pulled on two or three more wet
things, pulled up a box on one side to help keep warm, leaned up my head
slantingwise against a perpendicular wall for a pillow, and went to
sleep. Some writers say that a person must not sleep in one position all
night; if he does he will die. I did not suffer from that danger during
that night. The next morning we had to start about five o’clock because
of the tide, without any breakfast. When about eight o’clock we reached
a farm-house, and warmed up, where the people spent most of the forenoon
getting a good warm breakfast for us, free of all charges, we did wish
that they could receive the blessing forty times over mentioned in the
verse about the cup of cold water, for it was worth a hundred cups of
_cold_ water that morning. No one of us, however, took cold on that

Only once have I ever felt that there was much danger in traveling in a
canoe. I was coming from Clallam Bay to Jamestown in November, 1883,
with five Indians. We left Port Angeles on the afternoon of the last day
with a good wind, but when we had been out a short time and it was
almost dark, a low, black snow-squall struck us. There was no safe place
to land, and we went along safely until we reached the Dunginess Spit,
which is six miles long. There is a good harbor on the east side of it;
but we were on the west side, and the Indians said that it was not safe
to attempt to go around it, for those snow-squalls are the worst storms
there are, and the heavy waves at the point would upset us. It was
better to run the risk of breaking our canoe while landing than to run
the risk of capsizing in those boiling waters. So we made the attempt,
but could not see how the waves were coming in the darkness, and after
our canoe touched the beach, but before we could draw it up to a place
of safety, another wave struck it, and split it for nearly its whole
length. But we were all safe. Fortunately we were only seven miles from
Jamestown; so we took our things on our backs and walked the rest of the
way, all of us very thankful that we were not at the bottom of the sea.



Naturally most of the Indians did not care to buy Bibles at first. They
were furnished free to the school-children, and, like many other things
that cost nothing, were not very highly prized, nor taken care of half
as well as they ought to have been. Still they learned that it was the
sacred Book and when one after another left school most of them
possessed a Bible. I had not been here long when an Indian bought one,
and, having had the family record of a white friend of his written in
it, he presented it to the man, who had none. It caused some comment
that an Indian should be giving a Bible to a white man. When the first
apprentices received their first pay, a good share of their earnings
were invested in much better Bibles than they had previously been able
to buy.

The following item appeared in _The San Francisco Pacific_ in March,

             “LO, THE POOR INDIAN!

“The following facts speak volumes. Let all read them.--[Chaplain
Stubbs, Oregon Editor.]

“During 1879 I acted as agent of the Bible Society for this region. The
sales amounted to over twenty-two dollars to the Indians, out of a total
of thirty-two dollars. Of the seventy-five Bibles and Testaments sold,
thirty-nine were bought by them, varying in price from five cents to
three dollars and thirty cents. These facts, with other things, show
that there is some literary taste among them. Not many of the older ones
can read, hence do not wish for books; but many have adorned their
houses with Bible and other pictures, twenty of them having been counted
in one house, nearly all of which were bought with their money. In the
house of a newly married couple, both of whom have been in school, are
twenty-seven books, the largest being a royal octavo Bible, reference,
gilt. _The Council Fire_ is taken here. In a room where four boys stay,
part of whom are in school, and the rest of whom are apprentices,--none
of them being over seventeen years old,--will be found _The Port
Townsend Argus_ and _The Seattle Intelligencer_. On the table is an
octavo Bible, for the boys have prayers every evening by themselves,
and two of them have spent about five dollars each for other books,
“Christ in Literature” being among them. At another house are three
young men who have twenty volumes. One of them has paid twenty dollars
for what he has bought; Youmans’s Dictionary of Every-day Wants,
Webster’s Unabridged, Moody’s and Punshon’s Sermons being among them. He
was never in school until he was about twenty-two years old and nine
months will probably cover all the schooling he ever had. Here will be
found _The Pacific_. In another house the occupant has spent about fifty
dollars for books, and his library numbers thirty volumes. Among them
will be found an eighteen-dollar family Bible, Chambers’s Information
for the People, “Africa” by Stanley, Life of Lincoln, and Meacham’s
Wigwam and Warpath. Here also, is _The Pacific_, _The West Shore Olympia
Courier_, _The Council Fire_, and _The American Missionary_. This man
never went to school but two or three weeks, having picked up the rest
of his knowledge. When Indians spend their money thus, it shows that
there is an intellectual capacity in them that can be developed.”

It has been, however, and still is, somewhat difficult to cultivate in
many of them a taste for reading, so as to continue to use it when
older. This is not because of a want of intellectual capacity, but for
three other reasons. First, as soon as they leave school and go back
among the uneducated Indians, there is no stimulus to induce them to
read. The natural influence is the other way, to cause them to drop
their books. Second, like white people who remain in one place
continually, they are but little interested in what is going on in the
outside world. Third, in most books and papers there are just enough
large difficult words which they do not understand to spoil the sense,
and thus the interest in the story is destroyed. Yet notwithstanding
these discouragements, the present success together with the prospect
that it will be much greater in the future, as more of them become
educated, is such as to make us feel that it pays.



It is very plain that Indians who can not read, and even some who can
read, but only a little, need something besides the Bible to help them
remember it. Were white people to hear the Bible explained once or twice
a week only, with no opportunity to read it, they would be very slow to
acquire its truths. It hence became very plain that some good Scripture
illustrations would be very valuable. I could not, however, afford to
give them to the Indians, nor did I think it best, as generally that
which costs nothing is good for nothing. But to live three thousand
miles from the publishing-houses and find what was wanted was difficult,
for it was necessary that they should be of good size, attractive, and
cheap. For eight years I failed to find what was a real success.
Fanciful Bible-texts are abundant, but they convey no Bible instruction
to older Indians. Small Bible pictures, three or four by four or six
inches are furnished by Nelson & Sons, and others, but they were too
small to hang over the walls of their houses and they did not care to
buy them. I often put them into my pocket, when visiting, and explained
them to the Indians, and so made them quite useful. The same company
furnished larger ones, about twelve by eighteen inches, which were good
pictures. The retail price was fifty cents. I obtained them by the
quantity at about thirty-seven cents and sold them for twenty-five, but
they were not very popular. It took too much money to make much of a
show. The Providence Lithograph Company publish large lithographs,
thirty by forty-four inches, for the International Sabbath-school
Lessons, which were somewhat useful. I obtained quite a number,
second-hand, at half-price, eight for a dollar, and often used them as
the text of my pulpit preaching, but when I was done with them I
generally had to give them away. They were colored and showy but too
indefinite to be attractive enough to the Indians to induce them to pay
even that small price for them.

At last I came across some large charts, on rollers, highly colored,
published by Haasis & Lubrecht, of New York. They were twenty-eight by
thirty-five inches, and I could sell them for twenty-five cents each,
and they were very popular. They went like hot cakes--were often wanted
faster than I could get them, although I procured from twenty to forty
and sometimes more at once. Protestant and Catholic Indians, Christians
and medicine-men, those off the reservation and on other reservations as
well as at Skokomish, were equally pleased with them, so that I sold
four hundred and fifty in twenty-one months. They were large, showy,
cheap, and good, care being used not to obtain some purely Catholic
pictures which they publish.

“The Story of the Bible,” “Story of the Gospel,” and “First Steps for
Little Feet in Gospel Paths,” also have proved very useful for those who
can read a little but can not understand all the hard words in the
Bible. Their numerous pictures are attractive, and the words are easy to
be understood.



From the first a Sabbath-school has been held on the reservation.
Previous to the time when Agent Eells took charge, while Mr. D. B. Ward
and Mr. W. C. Chattin were the school-teachers, they worked in this way.
But there was no Sabbath-school in the region which the Indians had
seen; the white influences on the reservation by no means ran parallel
with their efforts, and it was hard work to accomplish a little. In 1871
Agent Eells threw all his influence in favor of it before there were any
ministers on the reservation or any other Sabbath service, with the
agent as superintendent. After ministers came, it was held soon after
the close of the morning service. The school-children and whites were
expected to be present, as far as was reasonable, and the older Indians
were invited and urged to remain. Sometimes they did and there was a
large Bible class, and sometimes none stayed.

A striking feature of the school has been the effort made to induce the
children to learn the lesson. Sometimes they were merely urged to, and
sometimes the agent compelled them so to do, much as if they were his
own children. Six verses have usually been a lesson sometimes all of
them being new ones, and sometimes three being in advance and three in
review. Those who committed them all to memory were placed on the roll
of honor, and those who had them all perfectly received two
credit-marks; so that if there were no interruption on any Sabbath in
the school, 104 was the highest number that any one could obtain. During
1875 the record was kept for fifty Sabbaths, and the highest number of
marks obtained by any of the Indian children was forty-eight, by Andrew
Peterson. Eighty-eight were obtained by each of two white children,
Minnie Lansdale and Lizzie Ward. Twenty of the Indian children were on
the roll of honor some of the time. During 1876 Miss Martha Palmer, an
Indian girl, received eighty-six marks out of a possible hundred. The
next highest was a white girl, then a half-breed girl, then an Indian
boy, and then a white boy. During 1877 the same Martha Palmer received
ninety-six marks, the highest number possible that year, there having
been no school on four Sabbaths. In 1878 Martha Palmer and Emily Atkins
each committed the six verses to memory and recited them perfectly at
the school during forty-nine Sabbaths, there having been no school on
three Sabbaths. That was the best report during the ten years. The
highest number in 1883 was by Annie Sherwood, but the number of
credit-marks was only forty-eight.

Sometimes we followed the simplest part of the Bible through by course
and sometimes used the International Lessons. The former plan was in
many respects better for the scholars, as the International Lessons
skipped about so much that the children often lost the connection; they
were sometimes not adapted for Indians, and the children would lose the
quarterlies or their lesson-papers. The latter plan was for some reasons
better for the teachers, as they could get helps in the quarterlies to
understand the lesson which they could not well get elsewhere.
Sabbath-school papers with a Bible picture in them and an explanation of
it were valuable. Such at last I found in _The Youth’s World_ for 1883.
Once a month, while I had them, I gave the papers to the teachers the
Sabbath previous and told the scholars to learn a few verses in the
Bible about the picture. Then every child received the paper on the
Sabbath, and the story was explained.

At first nearly all the teachers were whites; but in time, as the whites
moved away and the young men and women became older and more competent,
they took up the work. About half of the teachers during the last two
years were Indians. Agent Eells was superintendent of the school from
its beginning in 1871 until 1882, when his head-quarters were removed to
another reservation, since which time I have had charge. When the agent
left he received from the school a copy of Ryle’s Commentary on John, in
three volumes, which present was accompanied by some very appropriate
remarks by Professor A. T. Burnell, then in charge of the school.

“Sanctify them through thy truth: thy word is truth,” said Christ, and
we found this to be true; the committing to memory of so many verses
produced its natural effect. The seed sown grew. Eighteen Indian
children out of the Sabbath-school have united with the church.

The average attendance on the school at Skokomish has varied. From June,
1875, to June, 1876, it was eighty-five, and that was the highest. From
June, 1881, to June, 1882, it was forty-seven, which was the lowest. The
dismissal of employees and their families and the “dark days,” of which
mention has been made, caused decrease for a time.



Another of the first meetings established on the reservation under the
new policy was the prayer-meeting along with the Sabbath-school. To
those white people near the reservation who cared but little for
religion, and who had known the previous history of the reservation, a
prayer-meeting on a reservation! ah, it was a strange thing, but they
afterward acknowledged that it was a very proper thing for such a place.
That regular church prayer-meeting has been kept up from 1871 until the
present time, varied a little at times to suit existing circumstances.
The employees and school-children were the principal attendants, as it
was too far away from most of the Indians for them to come in the
evening. But few of the children ever took part. Too many wise heads of
a superior race frightened them even if they had wished to do so. The
average attendance on it has varied from twenty-two in 1875 to
thirty-eight in 1880. Previous to 1880, it ranged below thirty--since
then above that number.

To suit the wants of the children we had boys’ prayer-meetings and
girls’ prayer-meetings. Sometimes these were merely talks to them, and
sometimes they took part. In the summer of 1875 the white girls first
made a request to have one. I had been to our Association and on my
return I reported what I had heard of a children’s meeting at Bellingham
Bay. Two of the girls were impressed with the idea and made a request
for a similar one. Indian girls were soon invited to come and more or
less took part. It was not long before from its members some came into
the church. For a long time my mother had charge of this. She died in
1878, after which my wife took charge. The white girls at last all left
and only Indian girls remained in it. They have often taken their turn
in leading the meeting.

Although for two or three years I had asked a few boys to come to my
house from time to time to teach them and try to induce them to pray,
yet they never did any thing more than to repeat the Lord’s Prayer,
until February, 1877. Then three boys came and asked for instruction on
this subject, and soon we had a prayer-meeting in which all took part.
Previous to that school-boys had seemed to be interested in religion,
but when they became older and mingled more with the older Indians they
went back again into their old ways; but none ever went as far as these
did then--none ever prayed where a white person heard them or asked to
have a prayer-meeting with their minister. During that summer the
interest increased and it grew gradually to be a meeting of twenty with
a dozen sometimes taking part, but all were not Christians. After a few
months of apparent Christian life, some found the way too hard for them
and turned back, yet a number of them came into the church.

But all of these meetings did not reach the older Indians. They were too
far away to attend, and, had they been present, the meeting was in an
unknown tongue. So in the summer of 1875 I began holding meetings at
their logging-camps. They were welcomed by some, while with some,
especially those who leaned toward the Catholic religion and the old
native religion, it was hard work to do any thing. In these meetings I
was usually assisted by the interpreter John Palmer. At our church
services and Sabbath-school it was very difficult to induce them to sing
or to say any thing. There were enough white folks to carry them and
they were willing to be carried. At our first meetings with them they
sang and talked well, but preferred to wait a while before they should
pray in public. They did not know what to say, was the excuse they gave.
On reading I found that the natives at the Sandwich Islands were
troubled in the same way; and I remembered that the disciples said:
“Lord, teach us how to pray, as John also taught his disciples;” so we
offered to teach them how, for they professed to be Christians. One of
us would say a sentence and then ask one of the better ones to repeat it
afterward. I remember how something comical struck one of the Indians
during one of these prayers and he burst out laughing in the midst of
it. Feeling that a very short prayer would be the best probably for them
to begin with alone, I recommended that they ask a blessing at their
meals. This was acceptable to some of them. I taught them a form, and
they did so for that fall and a part of the winter. I once asked one
Indian if he ever prayed. His reply was that he asked a blessing on
Sabbath morning at his breakfast. That was all, and he seemed to think
that it was enough.

When winter came the logging-camps closed and they went to their homes.
They were too far off to hold evening services with them, because of
the mud, rain, and darkness, and, as they had but little to do, I took
Tuesdays for meetings with them. About the first of December we induced
four of them to pray in a prayer-meeting without any assistance from us.
This meeting was three hours long. It seemed as if a good beginning had
been made, but Satan did not propose to let us have the victory quite so
easily. In less than a week after this the Indians were all drawn into a
tribal sing tamahnous, and all of these praying Indians took some part,
though only one seemed to be the leader of it. That was the end of his
praying for years. The agent told him that he had made a fool of himself
and he said that it was true. In 1883 he was among the first to join the
church and since then he has done an excellent work. Still I kept up the
meetings during the winter. The Indian, however, is very practical. His
ideas of spiritual things are exceedingly small. His heaven is sensual
and his prayers to his tamahnous are for life, food, clothes, and the
like. So when they began to pray to God, they prayed much for these
things, and when they did not obtain all for which they asked, they grew
tired. Others then laughed at them for their want of success. I talked
of perseverance in prayer.

Not long after this the trouble with Billy Clams and his wife, as
already related under the head of marriage, occurred. He escaped at
first, but others were put in jail for aiding him. At one of the first
meetings after this trouble began, I asked one to pray, but he only
talked. I asked another and he said “No,” very quickly, and there was
only one left. Soon after this, they held a great meeting to petition
the agent to release the prisoners. The only praying one prayed
earnestly that this might be done. The petition was rightfully refused.
The other Indians laughed at him for his failure, and that stopped his
praying in public for a long time, with one exception. Once afterward we
held a meeting with them and after some urging a few took part, but it
was a dying affair. Notwithstanding all that they had said about being
Christians, the heart was not there, and until 1883 hardly any of the
older uneducated Indians prayed in public in our meetings. Of those
four, one left the reservation and became a zealous Catholic; one has
apparently improved some; one was nearly ruined by getting a wife with
whom he could not get along for a time, and at last became a leader in
the shaking religion; and one, as already stated, has done very well.

The next summer, 1876, I visited their logging-camps considerably, and
was well received by some, while others treated me as coldly as they
dared, doing only what they could not help doing. But they did not take
as much part in the meetings as they had done the previous summer,
talking very little and praying none. Their outward progress toward
religion had received a severe check. As has been the case with some
other tribes, Satan would not give up without a hard struggle. Like some
of the disciples, they found the gospel a hard saying, could not bear
it, and went back and walked no more with Christ.

The business of logging was overdone for several years, and during that
time I was not able to gather them together much for social meetings. I
worked mainly by pastoral visiting. In the winter of 1881-82 some of
them went to the Chehalis Reservation and attended some meetings held by
the Indians there and were considerably aroused. They again asked for
meetings and held them, but while they were free to talk and sing, they
were slow to pray. Logging revived, and I held meetings quite constantly
with them during the next two years.

At that time four of them professed to take a stand for Christ.
Gambling was a besetting sin of some of them, but with some help from
the school-boys, who had now grown to be men, they passed through the
Fourth of July safely, although there was considerable of it on the
grounds, and two of them were strongly urged to indulge. The other two
were absent. But in the fall there was a big Indian wedding with
considerable gambling and horse-racing, and then two fell. Another did a
very wrong thing in another way and was put in jail for it, and that
stopped his praying for a time, though he has since begun it again. The
other was among the first of the older Indians to join the church in
1883, and he has done a firm good work for us since.

In other camps I was welcomed also, but it has ever been difficult to
induce them, even the Christians, to pray or speak much in public. Those
prayer-meetings have usually been what I have had to say. Occasionally
they speak a little; but, not being able to read, their thoughts run in
a small circle, and they are apt to say the same things over again, and
they tire of it unless something special occurs to arouse them. “You
speak,” they often say to me, when I have asked them to say something.
“You know something and can teach us; we do not know any thing and we
will listen.” It is a fact that what we obtain from the Bible is the
great source of our instruction for others; still if we are Christians
and know only a little, the Spirit sometimes sanctifies that even in a
very ignorant person so that he may do some good with it.

The Clallam prayer-meetings at Jamestown have been different. They began
them when I visited them only once in six months, hence they had to take
part or give them up. They were not willing to do the latter, therefore
they have had to do the former. Sometimes eight or ten take part. They
seem to expect that if a person join the church he will take part in the
prayer-meeting, and the children of thirteen or fourteen years of age do
so with the older ones. Thrown on their own resources in this respect,
as well as in others, it has had its advantages.



Our first singing was in English, as we knew of no hymns in the
languages which the Indians could understand. In the Sabbath-school
prayer-meeting and partly in church we have continued to use them, as
the children understand English, and it is best to train them to use the
language as much as possible. “Pure Gold” and the Gospel Hymns and
Sacred Songs, as used by Messrs. Moody and Sankey, have been in use
among the Indian children for the last twelve years. Two or three of the
simplest English songs which repeat considerably have also been learned
by many of the older Indians, who understand a little of our language,
as: “Come to Jesus!” and “Say, brothers, will you meet us?” Yet all
these did not reach the large share of the older Indians as we wished to
reach them. “What are you doing out here?” “Why do you not go to
Sabbath-school?” were questions which were asked one Sabbath by the wife
of the agent to an Indian who was wandering around outside during that
service. His reply was that as the first part of the exercises and the
singing were in English they were very dry and uninteresting to him.
Only when the time came for singing the Chinook song was he much
interested. That was in 1874, and there was only one such song, which
the agent had made previous to my coming; but the want of them, as
expressed by that Indian, compelled us to make more. The first efforts
were to translate some of our simpler hymns into the Chinook language,
but this we found to be impracticable, with one or two exceptions. The
expressions, syllables, words, and accent did not agree well enough for
it; so we made up some simple sentiment, repeated it two or three times,
fitted it to one of our tunes, and sang it. In the course of time we had
eight or ten Chinook songs. They repeated considerably, because the
older Indians could not read and had to learn them from hearing them,
somewhat after the principle of the negro songs. Major W. H. Boyle
visited us in 1876, and was much interested in this singing. He took
copies of the songs and said he would see if he could not have them
printed on the government press belonging to the War Department, at
Portland, free of expense; but I presume he was not able to have it
done, as I never heard of them again.

In my visits among white people and in other Sabbath-schools I was often
called upon to sing them, and was then often asked for a copy; so often
was this done that I grew tired of copying them. Encouraged by this
demand and by Major Boyle’s interest in them, I thought I would see if I
could not have them published. I wrote to several other reservations,
asking for copies of any such hymns which they might have, hoping that
they also would bear a share of the expense of publishing them; but I
found that most of them had no such songs, and, to my surprise, some
seemed to have no desire for them. So I was compelled to carry on the
little affair alone. I was unable to bear the expense, but fortunately
then Mr. G. H. Himes, of Portland, consented to run all risks of
printing them, and so in 1878 a little pamphlet, entitled “Hymns in the
Chinook Jargon Language,” was printed, and it has been very useful. The
following, from its introductory note, may be of interest:--

“These hymns have grown out of Christian work among the Indians.... The
chief peculiarity which I have noticed in making hymns in this language
is that a large proportion of the words are of two syllables, and a
large majority of these have the accent on the second syllable, which
renders it almost impossible to compose any hymns in long, common, or
short metres.”

The following remarks were made about it by the editor of _The American

“It is not a ponderous volume like those in use in our American
churches, with twelve or fifteen hundred hymns, but a modest pamphlet of
thirty pages, containing both the Indian originals and the English
translations. The tunes include, among others, ‘Bounding Billows,’ ‘John
Brown,’ and ‘The Hebrew Children.’ The hymns are very simple and often
repeat all but the first line. The translations show the poverty of the
language to convey religious ideas.... It is no little task to make
hymns out of such poor materials. Let it be understood that these are
only hymns for the transition state--for Indians who can remember a
little and who sing in English as soon as they have learned to read.
This little book is a monument of missionary labor and full of
suggestion as to the manifold difficulties to be encountered in the
attempt to Christianize the Indians of America.”

Since then I have made a few others which have never been printed, one
of which is here given. The cause of it was as follows: One day I asked
an Indian what he thought of the Christian religion and the Bible. His
reply was that it was good, very good, for the white man, but that the
Indian’s religion was the best for him. Hence in this hymn I tried to
teach them that the Bible is not a book for the white people alone, but
for the whole world--an idea which is now quite generally accepted among
them. In all we now have sixteen hymns in Chinook, five in Twana, five
in Clallam, and two in Nisqually.

        _Tune_, “Hold the Fort.”

    (1)  Sághalie Tyee, yáka pápeh,
           Yáka Bible kloshe,
         Kópa kónoway Bóston tíllikums
           Yáka hías kloshe.


         Sághalie Tyee, yáka pápeh,
           Yáka Bible kloshe,
         Kópa kónoway tíllikums álta,
           Yáka hías kloshe.

    (2)  Sághalie Tyee, yáka pápeh,
           Yáka Bible kloshe,
         Kópa kónoway Síwash tíllikums
           Yáka hías kloshe.


         Sághalie Tyee, etc.

    (3)  Sághalie Tyee, yáka pápeh,
           Yáka Bible kloshe,
         Kópa kónoway King George tíllikums
           Yáka hías kloshe.--_Cho._


    (1)  God, His paper--
           His Bible is good;
         For all American people
           It is very good.


         God, His paper--
           His Bible is good;
         For all people now
           It is very good.

    (2)  God, His paper--
           His Bible is good;
         For all Indian people
           It is very good.

    (3)  God, His paper--
           His Bible is good;
         For all English people
           It is very good.

By changing a single word in the third line to Pa sai ooks (French),
China, Klale man (black men, or negroes), we had other verses.

In time I, however, became satisfied that the Indians would be better
pleased if they could sing a few songs in their native languages; but it
was very difficult to make them, as I could not talk their languages,
and so could not revolve a sentence over until I could make it fit a
tune. The Indians, on the other hand, were too young or too ignorant of
music to adapt the words properly to it for many years. I had, however,
written down about eighteen hundred words and sentences in each of the
Twana, Clallam, and Squaxon dialects of the Nisqually language, for
Major J. W. Powell at Washington, and could understand the Twana
language a very little, and this knowledge helped me greatly. Some of
the older school-boys became interested in the subject, and so we worked
together. After some attempts, which were failures, we were able in 1882
to make a few hymns which have become quite popular. Some the Indians
themselves made, and some they and I made. The following samples are
given of one in each language:--


     _Tune_, “Balerma.”

(1)  Se-seéd hah-háh kleets Badtl Sowul-lús!
       Se-seed hah-háh sa-lay!
     Se-seéd hah-háh kleets Badtl  Sowul-lús!
       Se-seed hah-háh sa-láy!

(2)  O kleets Badtl Wees Sowul-lús,
       Bis e-lál last duh tse-du-ástl
     A-hots ts-kai-lubs tay-tlía e-du-ástl;
       Bis-ó-shub-dúh e du-wús!


     Great Holy Father God!
       Great Holy Spirit!
     Great Holy Father God!
       Great Holy Spirit!

     O our Father God,
       We cry in our hearts
     For the sins of our hearts;
       Have mercy on our hearts!


    _Tune_, “Come to Jesus!”

    (1)  N ná a Jesus

    (2)  Tse-íds kwe nang un tun

    (3)  E-yum-tsa Jesus

    (4)  E-á-as hó-y


    (1)  Come to Jesus

    (2)  He will help you

    (3)  He is strong

    (4)  He is ready


    _Tune_, “Jesus loves me.”

The following is a translation of our hymn, “Jesus loves me, this I
know,” so literally that it can be sung in both languages at the same
time. The other two verses have also been likewise translated.

    (1)  Jesus hatl tobsh, al kwus us hai-tuh,
           Gwutl te Bible siats ub tobsh:
         Way-so-buk as-tai-ad seetl,
           Hwāk us wil luhs gwulluh seetl as wil luhl.


            A Jesus hatl tobsh,
            Gwutl ti Bible siats ub tobsh.

    (2)  Jesus hatl tobsh, tsātl to át-to-bud
           Guk-ud shugkls ak hāk doh shuk,
         Tsātl tloh tsa-gwud buk dzas dzuk
           Be kwed kwus cha-chushs atl tu-us da.

As an illustration of the difficulty I had, the following is given. I
wished to obtain the chorus to the hymn, “I’m going home,” and obtained
the expression, “I will go home,” in Clallam, in the following seven
different ways. The last one was the only one that would fit the music.

    O-is-si-ai-a tsa-an-tok^{hu}.
    Ku-kwa-chin-is-hi-a tok^{hu}.
    U-its-tla-hutl tok-^{hu}.

As a literary curiosity I found that the old hymn, “Where, oh, where is
good old Noah?” to the tune of “The Hebrew Children,” could be sung in
four languages at the same time, and this was the only English hymn that
I was ever able to translate into Chinook jargon, thus:--

    _Chinook Jargon._--Kah, O kah mit-lite Noah álta?
    _Twana._--Di-chád, di chád ká-o way klits Noah?
    _Clallam._--A-hín-kwa, a hín chees wi-á-a Noah?
    Far off in the promised land.


    By-and-by we’ll go home to meet them.
    _Chinook Jargon._--Alki nesika klatawa nánitch.
    _Twana._--At-so-i-at-so-i hoi klis-há-dab sub-la-bad.
    _Clallam._--I-á che hátl sche-túng-a-whun.


    _Chinook Jargon._--Where, oh, where, is Noah now?
    _Twana._--Where, oh, where, is Noah?
    _Clallam._--Where, oh, where, is Noah now?
    Far off in the promised land.


    By-and-by we’ll go home to meet them.
    _Chinook._--Soon we will go and see [him].
    _Twana._--Soon we will go and see him.
    _Clallam._--Far off in the good land.

These sentences can be mixed up in these languages in any way, make good
sense, and mean almost precisely the same. I found no other hymn in
which I could do likewise, but the chorus to “I’m going home” can be
rendered similarly in the English, Twana, and Clallam.

Clallams are much more natural singers than the Twanas. For this reason,
and also because there have never been enough whites in church to do the
singing for them, there has never been any difficulty in inducing them
to sing in church. But for very many years it was different with the
Twanas. When the services were first begun among them the singing was in
English and they were not expected to take part in it. When hymns were
first made in the Chinook jargon there were so many whites to sing in
church, that the Indians did not seem to take hold. They would sing well
enough at their camps, the boys would sing loud enough when alone at the
boarding-house or outdoors, but when they came to church they were
almost mum. The whites and the school-girls did most of it. It is only
within the past year or two that a perceptible change has been made for
the better.



But little has been done in these respects except to sow the seed, but
if the work shall continue another ten years I trust that more will be
accomplished. Since I have been here I have worked with the idea that in
time the Indians ought to furnish their own ministers and support them.
It will, however, naturally take more time to raise up a native ministry
than a native church, native Christian teachers than native Christian
scholars. These must come from our schools after long years of training.
Owing to a lack of early moral training among them,--the want of a
foundation,--the words of Paul on this subject have appeared to me to
have a striking significance, more so than among whites, although they
are true even among them: “Not a novice, lest being lifted up with pride
he fall into the condemnation of the devil.”

All people are tempted to be proud, but owing to this lack of
foundation, Indians are peculiarly so. A little knowledge puffeth up,
and, to use a common expression, they soon get the “big-head.” That
spoils them for the ministry. My first hope of this kind was that John
Palmer would turn his attention to the subject, but he had a family
before I knew him, and I never could induce him to look much in that
direction. In the spring of 1882 two young men who had been in school
from childhood took hold well. They began to talk with the Indians, to
assist me in holding meetings, and to take charge of them in my absence.
I felt that they were too young,--less than twenty-one,--and yet at
times I could see no other way to do; but I had reason to fear that both
felt proud of their position. During the next summer one of them, in
getting married, fell so low that we had to suspend him from the church
for almost a year, and the other for a time went slowly backward. Both
have come up again considerably, and the latter has done quite well for
the last year in holding lay-meetings. I pray “the Lord of the harvest,
that he will send forth laborers into his harvest.”

As to the support of the ministry, I always felt a delicacy in speaking
of the subject, because I was the minister. For several years, as long
as very few of the older Indians were members of the church, and the
ones who were members were scholars without money, it was difficult to
say much. As soon as some of the school-boys were put to work as
apprentices, I broached the subject to them, talked about it, and gave
them something to read on it. While they were apprentices and employees
most of them gave fairly. The agent urged them to do so, but compelled
none, and a few refused entirely. But when they left the government
employ and the agent moved away, they stopped doing what they had never
liked to do.

The older Indians, when they did come into the church, were hardly
prepared for it. The Catholic set said that if the people joined them
they would have nothing to pay. One of the Catholics told me that the
only reason why I wanted to get him into the church was to obtain his
money. It had been revealed to them that it was wrong to sell God’s
truth. These arguments, somewhat similar to those used years ago by some
of the more ignorant people in the Southern and Western States, coupled
with the natural love of money, has made it very difficult to induce
even the members of the church to contribute for the support of their
pastor. One of them once almost found fault with me for taking the
money contributed at a collection by whites at Seabeck, where I often
preached, and he thought I ought not to do so.

The Indians at Jamestown have done somewhat differently. In their
region, when there has been preaching by the whites, generally a
collection is taken. Noticing this, of their own accord, in 1882 when I
went to them, they passed around the hat and took up a collection of
three dollars and forty-five cents, and they have sometimes done so



The use of tobacco is not as excessive among the Twanas as among many
Indians--not as much so as among the Clallams. Seldom is one seen
smoking or chewing, though a large share of the Indians use it a little.
Yet not much of a direct war has been waged against it. There have been
so many greater evils against which it seemed necessary to contend that
I hardly thought it wise to speak much in public against it. Still a
quiet influence has been exerted against it. The agent never uses it,
and very few of the employees have done so. This example has done

The following incident shows the ideas some of them have obtained. About
1876 the school-teacher heard something going on in the boys’ room. He
quietly went to the key-hole and listened to see if any mischief were
brewing. The result was different from what he had feared. The boys were
holding a court. They had their judge and jury, witnesses and lawyers.
The culprit was charged with the crime of being drunk. After the
prosecution had rested the case, the criminal arose and said about as
follows: “May it please your honor, I am a poor man and not able to pay
a lawyer, so I shall have to defend myself. There is a little mistake
about this case. My name is Captain Chase [a white man of the region]. I
came to church on Sunday; the minister did not know me. I was well
dressed, and the minister mistook me for another minister. So when he
was done, he asked me to say a few words to the Indians. I was in a fix,
for I had a large quid of tobacco in my mouth. I tried to excuse myself,
but the minister would not take no for an answer. So at last I quietly
and secretly took out the tobacco from my mouth [suiting his words with
a very apt illustration of how it was done], threw it behind the seat,
and went up on the platform to speak. But I was not sharp enough for the
Indians. Some of them saw me throw it away, _and they thought a minister
had no business with tobacco_, and that is why I am here; besides I was
a little tipsy.” I have enjoyed telling this story to one or two
tobacco-using ministers.

Somewhat later a rather wild boy wrote me, asking me to allow him to
enter the praying band of Indian boys. He promised to give up his bad
habits; and among others he mentioned the use of tobacco, which he said
he would abandon.

Within the past year a number of the older Indians have abandoned its
use. I have a cigar which was given me by one man. He said that when he
determined to stop its use, he had a small piece of tobacco and two
cigars, and that for months afterward they lay in his house where they
were at that time, and he gave me one of them. Most of those who stopped
using it belonged to the shaking set. It was one of the few good things
which resulted from that strange affair. But they have been earnestly
encouraged to continue as they have begun in this respect.

A white man who has an Indian woman for a wife told me the following.
For years both he and his wife used tobacco, himself both chewing and
smoking. When she professed to become a Christian, she gave up her
tobacco and tried to induce him to do the same, and at last he did so
far yield as to stop smoking; but he continued to chew. All her talk did
not stop him. But he saw that when he had spit on the floor and stove,
she would get a paper or rag and wipe it up, and hence he grew ashamed
and stopped chewing in the house, using only a little--when he told
me--in the woods when at work.



An experience which is not very pleasant comes from the vermin,
especially the fleas--not a refined word; but the most refined society
gets accustomed to it here because they _have to do so_, and the more so
the nearer they get to the native land of these animals--the Indians. I
stood one evening and preached in one of their houses when I am
satisfied that I scratched every half-minute during the service; for,
although I stood them as long as I could, I could not help it. I would
quietly take up one foot and rub it against the other, put my hand
behind my back or in my pocket, and treat the creatures as gently as I
could, and the like, so as not to attract any more attention than

But then Indian houses are not their only dwellings. At one place I once
stayed at a white man’s house, who was as kind as he knew how to be: but
backing for twenty years with very few neighbors except Indians is not
very elevating; it is one of the trials of the hardy frontiersman. I
tried to go to sleep--one bit; I kicked--he stopped; I shut my
eyes--another wanted his supper; I scratched; and so we kept up the
interminable warfare until three o’clock, when sleep conquered for two
hours. The next day, on the strength of it, I preached twice, held a
council, tramped five miles, and talked the rest of the time. That night
mine host, having suspected something, proposed that we take our
blankets and go to the barn. I was willing, and we all slept soundly;
but the hay was a year old, and in that region sometimes innumerable
small hay-lice get on it--a fact of which I was not aware. They did not
trouble us during the night; but when we arose the next morning our
clothes, which had lain on the hay, were covered with thousands of them.
Every seam, torn place, button-hole, and turned-over place was crowded
with the lilliputians. It took me three quarters of an hour to brush
them from my clothes. However, it did not hurt the clothes or me. My
better two-thirds would have said that they needed brushing.

Twice while traveling to Jamestown have I been obliged, when within
twenty miles of the place, to stop all day Saturday because of heavy
head-winds, when I was exceedingly anxious to be at Jamestown over the
Sabbath. That day was consequently spent not where I wished to be. It
seemed to me to be a strange Providence; but I have since been inclined
to believe that my example in not traveling on the Sabbath, when the
Indians knew how anxious I was to reach the place, was worth more than
the sermons I would have preached.

The following appeared in _The Child’s Paper_ in January, 1878:--

“In the school on the Indian reservation where I live twenty-five or
thirty Indian children are taught the English language. At one time a
new boy came who knew how to talk our language somewhat but not very
well. Soon after he came he was at work with the other boys and the
teacher, when, in pronouncing one English word, he did not pronounce it
aright. He was corrected but still did not say it right. Again he was
told how, but still it seemed as if his tongue were too thick; and
again, but he did not get the right twist to it. At last one of the
scholars thought that he was doing it only for fun and that he could
pronounce it correctly if he only would do so, so he said: ‘O boys, it
is not because his tongue is crooked but because his ears are

Query: Are there not some others who have crooked ears?

What does Paul say? “Five times received I forty stripes save one.”
Well, I have never been treated so, for the people are as kind as can
be. “Shipwrecked”? No, only cast twice on the beach by winds from a
canoe. “A night and a day in the deep”? No, only a whole night and a
part of several others on the mud-flats, waiting for the tide to come.
No danger of drowning there. So I have determined to take more of such
spice if it shall come.



There is, however, another side to the picture, more like currant jelly.
The people generally are as kind as they can be. “We will give you the
best we have,” is what is often told me, and they do it. Here is a house
near Jamestown, where I have stopped a week at a time, or nearly that,
once in six months for about six years, and the people will take nothing
for it. For seventy-five miles west of Dunginess is a region where a
man’s company is supposed to pay for his lodgings at any house. I meet a
man, who offers to go home, a half a mile, and get me a dinner, if I
will only accept it. A girl, with whose family I was only slightly
acquainted, stood on the porch one day as I passed, and said: “Mister,
have you been to dinner? You had better stop and have some.” A
hotel-keeper, who had sold whiskey for fifteen years, put me in his best
room, one which he had fitted up for his own private use, and then would
take nothing for it. The Superintendent of the Seabeck Mills, Mr. R.
Holyoke, invited me to go to his house whenever I was in the place, and
would never take any thing for it. It amounted to about four weeks’ time
each year for five or six years, and yet he would hardly allow me to
thank him. Others, too, at the same place, have been very kind. The
steamer _St. Patrick_ for two years and a half always carried myself and
family free, whenever we wished to travel on it, and during that time it
gave us sixty or seventy-five dollars’ worth of fare. Captain J. G.
Baker, of the _Colfax_, said to me, six or seven years ago: “Whenever
you or your family, or an Indian whom you have with you to carry you,
wish to travel where I am going, I will take you free.” He has often
done it, sometimes making extra effort with his steamer in order to
accommodate me. The steamers _Gem_ and _McNaught_ also made a rule to
charge me no fare when I traveled on them.

Indians, too, are not wholly devoid of gratitude. It is the time of a
funeral. They are often accustomed at such times to make presents to
their friends who attend and sympathize with them. “Take this money,”
they have often said to me at such times, as they have given me from one
to three dollars. “Do not refuse--it is our custom; for you have come
to comfort us with Christ’s words.” At a great festival, where I was
present to protect them from drunkenness, and other evils equally bad,
they handed me seven dollars and a half, saying, “You have come a long
distance to help us; we can not give you food as we do these Indians, as
you do not eat with us; take this money, it will help to pay your
board.” But when I offered to pay the gentleman with whom I was staying,
Mr. B. G. Hotchkiss, he too would take nothing for the board. The good
people of the Pearl Street Church in Hartford, Connecticut, sent us a
barrel of things in the early spring of 1883, whose money value I
estimated at considerably over a hundred dollars, and whose good cheer
was inestimable in money, because it came when our days were the

God has been very good to put it into the hearts of so many people to be
so kind, and not the least good thing that he has done is that he has
put that verse in the Bible about the giving a cup of cold water and the
reward that will follow.



Dr. H. J. Minthorne, superintendent of the Indian Training School at
Forest Grove, Oregon, once remarked to me, “that, in the civilization of
Indians, they often went forward and then backward; but that each time
they went backward it was not quite so far as the previous time, and
that each time they went forward it was an advance on any previous
effort.” I have found the same to be true. They seem to rise much as the
tide does when the waves are rolling--a surge upward and then back; but
careful observation shows that the tide is rising.

There is much of human nature in them. In many respects--as in their
habits of neatness and industry, their visions, superstitions, and the
like--I have often been reminded of what I have read about ignorant
whites in the Southern and Western States fifty years ago, and of what I
have seen among the same class of people in Oregon thirty years ago.

Soon after I came here, an old missionary said to me: “Keep on with the
work; the fruits of Christian labor among the Indians have been as great
or greater than among the whites.” I have found it to be in some measure
true. Something has, I trust, been done; but the Bible and experience
both agree in saying that “God has done it all.” I sometimes think I
have learned a little of the meaning of the verse, “Without me ye can do
nothing,” and I would also record that I have proved the truth of that
other one, “I am with you alway,"--for the work has paid.

I went to Boise City, in Idaho, in 1871, with the intention of staying
indefinitely, perhaps a lifetime, but Providence indicated plainly that
I ought to leave in two and a half years. When I came here, it was only
with the intention of remaining two or three months on a visit. The same
Providence has kept me here ten years and I am now satisfied that his
plans were far wiser than mine. So “man proposes and God disposes.” The
Christians’ future and the Indians’ future are wisely in the same hands.



 [1] Among the Alaskans, pp. 271, 272.

 [2] It was not at that time, at this place.

 [3] Added to the Jamestown Church, and inserted here to give a view of
 the whole work.

*** End of this Doctrine Publishing Corporation Digital Book "Ten years of missionary work among the Indians at Skokomish, Washington Territory, 1874-1884" ***

Doctrine Publishing Corporation provides digitized public domain materials.
Public domain books belong to the public and we are merely their custodians.
This effort is time consuming and expensive, so in order to keep providing
this resource, we have taken steps to prevent abuse by commercial parties,
including placing technical restrictions on automated querying.

We also ask that you:

+ Make non-commercial use of the files We designed Doctrine Publishing
Corporation's ISYS search for use by individuals, and we request that you
use these files for personal, non-commercial purposes.

+ Refrain from automated querying Do not send automated queries of any sort
to Doctrine Publishing's system: If you are conducting research on machine
translation, optical character recognition or other areas where access to a
large amount of text is helpful, please contact us. We encourage the use of
public domain materials for these purposes and may be able to help.

+ Keep it legal -  Whatever your use, remember that you are responsible for
ensuring that what you are doing is legal. Do not assume that just because
we believe a book is in the public domain for users in the United States,
that the work is also in the public domain for users in other countries.
Whether a book is still in copyright varies from country to country, and we
can't offer guidance on whether any specific use of any specific book is
allowed. Please do not assume that a book's appearance in Doctrine Publishing
ISYS search  means it can be used in any manner anywhere in the world.
Copyright infringement liability can be quite severe.

About ISYS® Search Software
Established in 1988, ISYS Search Software is a global supplier of enterprise
search solutions for business and government.  The company's award-winning
software suite offers a broad range of search, navigation and discovery
solutions for desktop search, intranet search, SharePoint search and embedded
search applications.  ISYS has been deployed by thousands of organizations
operating in a variety of industries, including government, legal, law
enforcement, financial services, healthcare and recruitment.