A Canoe Voyage to Northward 



my interest In glaciers, said that when he was a boy 

 he had gone with his father to hunt seals in a large 

 bay full of ice, and that though it was long since he 

 had been there, he thought he could find his way to 

 it. Accordingly, we pushed eagerly on across Chat- 

 ham Strait to the north end of Icy Strait, toward the 

 new and promising ice-field. 



On the south side of Icy Strait we ran into a pic- 

 turesque bay to visit the main village of the Hoona 

 tribe. Rounding a point on the north shore of the 

 bay, the charmingly located village came in sight, 

 with a group of the inhabitants gazing at us as we ap- 

 proached. They evidently recognized us as strangers 

 or visitors from the shape and style of our canoe, and 

 perhaps even determining that white men were aboard, 

 for these Indians have wonderful eyes. While we were 

 yet half a mile off, we saw a flag unfurled on a tall 

 mast in front of the chiefs house. Toyatte hoisted 

 his United States flag in reply, and thus arrayed we 

 made for the landing. Here we were met and received 

 by the chief, Kashoto, who stood close to the water's 

 edge, barefooted and bareheaded, but wearing so fine 

 a robe and standing so grave, erect, and serene, his 

 dignity was complete. No white man could have 

 maintained sound dignity under circumstances so 

 disadvantageous. After the usual formal salutations, 

 the chief, still standing as erect and motionless as a 

 tree, said that he was not much acquainted with our 

 people and feared that his house was too mean for 

 visitors so distinguished as we were. We hastened of 

 course to assure him that we were not proud of heart, 



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