CRUISE AMONG HAIDA AND T LIN GIT VILLAGES. 167 



tionatelj short. A single glance at a Ilaida walking is sufficient to 

 convince one that he is more at home iii a canoe than on the land. 



Of the ancient houses in Masset not one remains in good condi- 

 tion. But stately even in its ruins still stands the historic house of 

 old Chief Weha. It is composed of massive beams and walls of 

 great, wide, rough-hewn cedar planks. Its entrance is still guarded 

 by the ever-present totem pole, which is one of the best in the vil- 

 lage. The interior is even more interesting than the exterior, for it 

 reveals the massiveness of the timbers and the solidarity of these 

 houses. When one looks upon such a structure as this and compares 



A Tlingit Shaman's Grave on Duke Island. 



it with the ramshackle cottages of to-day, the feeling forces itself 

 upon one that in this respect as in many others the Haidas have given 

 up the substance for the shadow. 



It is sad to relate, but it is true, that the day is not far distant 

 when there will not be a single totem pole in British Columbia. I 

 believe I am safe in saying that another one will never be erected. 

 The old ones do not fall of their own accord as fast as they are cut 

 down; for, strange as it may seem, the natives actually cut down one 

 or more poles every winter for firewood, and in this they are encour- 

 aged by the missionaries. The totem pole is a coat of arms, it is an 

 epitome of the owner's mythical ancestry; from its curious con- 

 ventionalized animals or hieroglyphs we read into the past, of the 

 time of their garden of Eden, and of their struggles and friendships 

 with the monsters of the deep and the creatures of the laud and air. 



