Potlach Dance 



are extremely dirty and still more ugly, but they 

 are quite adepts with the needle, making mocas- 

 sins, buckskin shirts, etc., splendidly. The wife 

 of my old Indian hunter tanned two or three of 

 my deer hides, and afterwards made them into 

 shirts for me. 



Whilst at Victoria I witnessed a " potlach," 

 or dance, which for primitive savagery was hard 

 to beat. I found myself one evening accom- 

 panying a friend to a big rancheree in the 

 neighbourhood. In a large barn of a room were 

 squatted all the natives of the district. The 

 room was illuminated only by the light of a big 

 wood fire burning in a huge iron brazier in the 

 centre, which threw fitful lights and shadows 

 over those present. I had been to a big duck 

 shoot a day or so previously, when we had killed 

 over two hundred birds of sorts. These we had 

 given to the chief, who in turn had divided them 

 amongst his people ; and the potlach was got 

 up for me as a sort of return favour. 



In the corner of this room, screened off from 

 the rest by an old blanket, hung over a string, 

 came groans and shouts of the weirdest descrip- 

 tion. I was told that they emanated from a man 

 who was the champion dancer of the neighbour- 

 hood. Whilst this man was working himself up 

 into a state of sufficient keenness to take the 

 floor, the proceedings were enlivened by the 

 performances of a young woman of perhaps 

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