2O6 KEELER 



our way into these forest retreats we found but little indi- 

 cation of the presence of animal life. Silence reigned, 

 broken now and then by the squeak of a Harris's wood- 

 pecker or the short fine note of the pileolated warbler. 

 This frail, beautiful little creature with its fine golden 

 plumage and black cap, its dainty manners and sprightly 

 song, was one of the few birds found in considerable 

 numbers in the forests of the southern portions of the in- 

 land passages. 



The northwest crows and the ravens forced themselves 

 upon our attention from the outset. We are accustomed 

 to think of ravens as shy birds, dwelling in remote and 

 desolate places, upon the wastes of the plains, or on 

 dreary rock-bound sea coasts, but at every village in 

 Alaska they are as abundant and tame as chickens in a 

 farmyard. It is not strange that the raven has been a bird 

 held in superstitious reverence or fear among men of 

 many races and in various parts of the world that it 

 has been a theme for poets and a study for scientists as 

 well as a sacred being among the Tlinkit Indians. In 

 appearance it is wiser than an owl. It is more full of 

 strange antics than a parrot and quite as talkative in its 

 own peculiar vernacular. 



It is well that it is held in veneration by the Indians and 

 in contempt by the whites, for the untidy habits of the peo- 

 ple make these scavengers quite indispensable. There is 

 something inexpressibly droll and quaint about the sidling 

 hops and curious prancing walk of these big, lustrous black 

 fellows, with their sharp eyes and strong, black beaks ; 

 they turn their heads on one side in such a knowing fashion 

 when they look at any strange object, and their cries are 

 so expressive of their varied emotions. Their typical call 

 is a deep, guttural, rattling croak, not wholly unmusical, 

 although loud and wild. I wrote down some of the calls 

 they uttered, indicating as well as possible in letters the 



