36 TWO DIANAS IN ALASKA 



Miserable bunk beds, aheap with piles of dirty clothes, 

 and blankets, were all round the walls, and in the 

 middle of the apartment a wood fire smouldered, with 

 fish grilling in the cinders, a hole in the roof letting 

 out some of the smoke. 



Many of the Indian dug-outs are enormous, hewn 

 from forest giants, and relic of the more warlike 

 times of the grim Haida, and his Northerners they 

 call each extra-sized vessel a " war-canoe." 



In these primitive ships a whole Indian family 

 annually sets out from Vancouver Island to cross the 

 Gulf to the Eraser River to take part in the salmon 

 harvest. From the aged grandfather, his cheeks in 

 the deepest furrows Time can plough, to the latest 

 addition in the way of the quaintest of babies. Youth 

 at the prow, old age at the helm, the father of the 

 family asleep, and the mother, the grandmother, and 

 the daughters doing all the paddling amidships. 



Almost all the journeys taken by the coast Indians 

 are by water, and even babies of four and five have the 

 ubiquitous paddle thrust into their tiny hands, and 

 speedily learn to use it with agility. Paddles vary 

 slightly according to the tribes, but nearly all the 

 blades are roughly carved, and decorated with blue 

 and red stain. They taper to a point, and the whole 

 thing is about four feet in length, slightly longer for 

 use in canoes of great size. The wonderfully adroit 

 use of the single paddle interested me extremely. By 

 a firm touch at the psychological moment the frail 

 craft is held at " safety," and answers the command 

 immediately. The paddler seems one with the craft, 



