KLATSASSAN.

Company in that district. I daresay the place has im-
proved in the course of these ten years, but when I saw
it, it was a very unimposing edifice,indeed, built of logs,
and surrounded by a stockade. The agent received me
with the hospitality which invariably characterizes the
Company’s servants in those outlying parts. On the
morrow he gathered together for service the whites and
half-breeds, every one in short who could understand
English or French. After service, the agent told me of
a tribe of Indians who were camping in the neighbour-
hood, and promised after dinner to take me to them.
They were the Nicootlem Indians, a branch of the Chil-
coatens, a powerful tribe (although, like all the British
Columbian Indians, in a state of decadence), whose fishing-
grounds extended over the vast tract of country which
lies between the northern part of the Fraser River and
the Gulf of Georgia.

We found them encamped ona hill-side, not far from
the fort, commanding a lovely view of the windings of
the river. It is worth mentioning, as showing how the
love of scenery exists even in savage breasts, where there
may be little else that is noble in sentiment or refined in
taste, that the Indians always choose the most romantic
spots in the country for their camping-grounds. As-
suredly the appearance of those Chilcoaten Indians was
little in keeping with the beauty of the scene. A set of
men and women more squalid and repulsive I have rarely
beheld. Dark faces, with big mouths, high cheek-bones,
ferocious black eyes, narrow foreheads, long tangled hair
black as night; their thin and sinewy frames with little
on them save dirt and a piece of blanket or a deer-skin:
no, their appearance was not prepossessing. And yet
wherever there is a human face, however disfigured by
sin, is there not a human mind which can apprehend
God’s truth, and a human heart which is in need of it?
And as those Indians, when my companion explained to
them who I was, were willing to hear me, I proceeded
to speak to them the message of salvation. My words
had to pass through more than one medium before reach-
ing their ears. Spoken in French, they were first trans-
lated into Chinook, which is, as the reader is probably
aware, the jargon used on both sides of the Rocky Moun-
tains for communication between whites and Indians;
then finally, they were given in the vernacular of the
Chilcoatens. The savages’ were gathered round me in
that attitude of deep attention which marks an Indian
audience. One appeared more attentive even than the
rest. Sitting a little in front of the group, his knees
drawn up, his elbows resting on his knees, and his chin
socketed on his hands, this Indian kept his eyes fixed
upon me. His was a striking face; the great under-jaw
betokened strong power of will; the eyes, which were not
black, like most Indians’, but of a very dark blue, and full
of a strange, it might bea dangerous, light, were keen and
searching. He never took them off the speaker, but
seemed to be perusing with them my inmost soul, as if
he meant to ascertain not only whether I spoke true, but
whether I believed in my heart what I said. When the
service was over, this man came up to me, and without a
word proceeded to fumblein my breast. I hardly relished
this, but I merely asked what he wanted. Upon this he
pulled out of his bosom a erucifix, which was tied round
his neck. He said he wanted to see whether I wore one.
He wanted in fact to see whether I had what he had been
taught to recognize as the mark of the true priest.

eS ee

107

For I was not, it appeared, the first to preach Chris-
tianity to his tribe. Some twenty years previously,
certain Roman Catholic missionaries had crossed over
from Canada into British Columbia, and with their
wonted zeal had preached to the natives. Probably from
want of time, they did not teach them very much of
religion, but what they did teach had been received with
ardour and retained with amazing fidelity. They had
baptized many Indians of all tribes, had taught them
something about Jesus Christ and the Virgin Mary, had
also given them a notion of the sacraments. They had
given them a form of prayer to be used night and morn-
ing: and so faithfully had the Indians adhered to this.
that go where you would in British Columbia, you would.
find Indian tribes assemble, daily, to say their matins and.
their evensong, herein putting to the blush the supposedly
civilized and Christian miners who could live without
worship, not only on weekdays but on Sundays too..
Those missionaries had, it appeared, given the Indians
as a token whereby they should recognize the true
‘shepherd, the Roman priest, so as to distmguish him
from the devouring wolf, the priest of the Anglican faith,
this sign, the wearing of a crucifix. This is what the
Indian was in quest of when he thus unceremoniously
fingered my waistcoat. Now unluckily I had xo crucifix,
I was accordingly in danger of rejection as a false priest.
I told him, however, that I was a “ King George” or
English priest, not exactly like those he knew about:
and that the King George priest wore no crucifix about
his neck, but carried it inside his heart. I need hardly
say that by this answer I did not intend to teach that
the Roman priest had zo¢ the cross in his heart as

well as in his bosom; indeed I am far from thinking so.

The Roman missionary has the crucifix in his heart as
much as we Anglicans, often more. In selfcrucifixion
and self-abnegation he often excels us: pity “tis that he is
so prone at the same time to self-glorification, and flaunts
his sacrifices before our eyes! Such at least is my
experience of him.

The Indian seemed satisfied with my answer. We
shook hands and parted. I inquired who he was. His
name was Klatsassan. He was a great man amongst the
Indians. Indeed, although not hereditary chieftain, he was
looked upon as their chief by all the Chilcoatens. His
physical strength, his power of will, his courage, his un-
scrupulousness, had won him this pre-eminence.
the terror of the foes of his tribe, and by his clansmen,
too, rather dreaded than loved. The little children, I have

been told, would peep in through the holes in his tent, |

He was |

to catch a sight of the terrible chief, and run away

erying with fright. Such was Klatsassan: and such the
occasion of our first meeting.

II.
A NIGHT BY THE HOMATHCO.

Ir was on the 5th of May, 1864, that news reached
Victoria, Vancouver Island, of a fearful massacre perpe-
trated on the mainland—the coast of British Columbia,
by Indians of the Chilcoaten tribe. The bearer of this
distressing and alarming intelligence was Mr. Frederick
Whymper, an artist whose account of his travels, since
published, has interested and delighted the public. The
victims of Indian ferocity were a party of road-makers

| who had gone over from the island to construct a waggon-

t
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