ABOEIGINAL LIFE OF THE SITKANS. 59 



from the stiff, short black horns of the mountain goat, the handles 

 often carved to represent a human form, animal, or bird. Knives 

 of all sorts are now in use. Much ingenuit}- is often exhibited by 

 the adaptation of old blades to new handles — in converting the 

 large, flat blacksmithing files into keen weapons, and making fish- 

 cleaning knives out of pieces of iron ; thin, square or oblong sheets 

 of this metal are so fitted into oblong wooden handles as to re- 

 semble the small hash-knives used in our kitchens. 



But the Sitkan housekeeper glories in her boxes — great chests 

 and little ones — in which she stores everything of value belonging to 

 the family, except the dogs and the canoes. The big boxes, corded 

 up with bark ropes, are her blanket and fur treasuries ; the smaller 

 ones contain her oolachan "butter " and dried fish and meat. The 

 larger chests are from two and a half to four feet square ; the lesser 

 are between a foot to two feet. The sides of such a box are made 

 of a single piece of thinly shaven cedar board, which by steaming 

 is bent three times at a right angle, and i^egged tightly and very 

 neatly up to the fourth corner. The bottom is a separate solid 

 plank, keyed in with little pegs very solidly, and water-tight ; the 

 cover is cut out of a thick slab, and fits over and sets down heavily 

 on the upper edge of the chest. Those boxes are all decorated in 

 designs of the peculiar tyjje so common among these savages, 

 painted in black and white. The next desideratum of the squaw is 

 a full supply of cedar-bark mats, which ghe plaits from strips of 

 this material, and which are always spread out on the ground or 

 rude plank floor when the Indian prepares to roll up in his blanket 

 for slumber. Such mats are the pride of all Thlinket squaws, and 

 vary much in texture and in pattern. 



But the daily rovitine of the dusky housekeeper is a very dif- 

 ferent one indeed from that characteristic of woman's labor in car- 

 ing for our homes. No sweeping or dusting in the Indian ranch- 

 erie ; no bed-chambers to change the linen in and tidy up ; no 

 kitchen or servan-ts to look after ; nothing whatever of the kind. Yet 

 the Indian matron is always busy. She has to hew the firewood 

 and drag it in ; she has to carry water and attend to all of the ru.de 

 cooking and filling of the trenchers ; she looks after the mats and 

 the sewing of the children's fur and other garments — not much to 

 be sure in the way of dressmaking — she has to make all of the tedi- 

 ous berry-trips, picking and drying of the fruit, as well as attending 

 to the preservation, in the same manner, of the fish and game which 



