I 



ON THE NORTH-WESTERN TRIBES OF CANADA. 843 



Tlingit believe that the soul, after death, lives in a country similar to 

 ours. Those who have died a violent death go to heaven, to a country 

 ruled by Tahit ; those who die by sickness (also women dying in child- 

 bed) go to a country beyond the borders of the earth, but on the same 

 level. It is said that the dead from both countries join during the 

 daytime. I believe that this idea, which is also held by the Haida, 

 must be ascribed to Eskimo influence. The ideas of the Tlingit regard- 

 ing future life are best described in the following tales, which are told as 

 adventures of shamans who lived about 150 or 200 years ago : 



A shaman had been sick for many years. When he felt that he could 

 not recover, and death was approaching, he asked his mother to take good 

 care of his dog. He died. The corpse was wrapped in furs, and on the 

 fourth day he was buried in the graveyard of the shamans, near the 

 beach. Every day his mother went to the little house in which his body 

 was deposited, bewailing his death, and burning food for him. One day 

 the dog, who had accompanied her, began to bark, and would not be 

 quieted. Suddenly she heard something moving in the grave, and a 

 sound as though somebody was awaking from a long sleep. She fled, 

 terrified, and told the people what she had heard. They went to the 

 grave, opened it, and found that the dead had returned to life. They 

 carried him home, and gave him some food. But he felt weak, and it 

 was not until he had slept long and soundly that he began to speak. 

 ' Mother,' he said, ' why did not you give me to eat when I asked you ? 

 Did not you hear me ? I said, " I am hungry," and nudged you. I 

 wanted to touch your right side, but I was unable to do so. I was 

 compelled by a magic force to stand at your left side. You did not reply, 

 but merely touched your side, saying, " That is a bad omen." When I 

 saw you eating, I asked you to let me take part in your meal, but you 

 did not answer, and without your permission I was not able to partake 

 of any food. You said, " The fire crackles, and you threw some of your 

 meal into it." 



' When I was dead I did not feel any pain. I sat by my body, and 

 saw how you prepared it for burial, and how you painted my face with 

 our crest. I heard you, mother, mourning at my grave. I told you 

 that I was not dead, but you did not hear me. After four days I felt as 

 though there was no day and no night. I saw you carrying away my 

 body, and felt compelled to accompany it, although I wished to stay in 

 our house. I asked every one of you to give me some food, but you 

 threw it into the fire, and then I felt satisfied. At last I thought, " I 

 believe I am dead, for nobody hears me, and the burnt food satisfies me," 

 and I resolved to go into the land of the souls. Soon I arrived at a fork 

 in the road. A much-trodden road led one way, while the other seemed 

 to have been seldom used. I followed the former. I longed to die, and 

 went on and on, hoping to reach the country of the deceased. At last I 

 arrived at a steep rock, the end of the world. At the foot of the rock a 

 river flowed sluggishly. On the other side I saw a village, and recog- 

 nised many of its inhabitants. I saw my grandmother and my uncle 

 who have long been dead, and many children whom I had once tried to 

 cure. But many of those I saw I did not know. I cried, "Oh, come, 

 have pity upon me ! Take me over to you ! " But they continued to 

 wander about as though they did not hear me. I was overcome by 

 weariness, and lay down. The hard rock was my pillow. I slept 

 soundly, and when I awoke I did not know how long I had slept. I 



