184 
FOREST AND STREAM 
[SjiPT. 7, 1901. 
repose. His profile showed distinct against the sky, and 
so perfect was the outline of face and form that the gazer 
could almost delude himself into the belief that a giant 
figure, carved from marble mountain top by unearthly 
hands', was there lying sculptured. I had often looked 
upon this image, and had conjured many a weird fancy 
concerning it. but never had I seen it .so plain, so hu- 
man like, as now. 
Outside the lodges, reclining on his "sunning board," 
his dim eyes fixed on the distant figure, was an old In- 
dian, and by his side a boy six or seven years old, per- 
haps, to whom he was telling, in soft monotone, some 
legend of long past days. "Noqualmis''^ was a name oft 
repeated. The gentle droning of his voice, the enervat- 
ing warmth of the soft, spring sun and the dreamy cries 
of the distant wild fowl on the sea, soon sent me into a 
light sleep, and it seemed to me. as I slept, that the 
story ran thus: 
Boy, son of my brother, listen to the story of No- 
qualmis. The men of our tribe were always noted as 
great and daring hunters. From the time when Pahl, 
the first dwellers of the earth, were dispersed, our tribe 
has been renowned. Old I am now; feeble and with eye- 
sight dim ; but once, young and supple. I used to hunt the 
deer, the bear, the elk, so that the lodge was ever filled 
with food and warm furs for clothing. I was deemed a 
great hunter and brave warrior in the tribe, but greater 
far than I, greater, stronger, braver than all, was the 
Thunder Chief, Noqualmis. He it was, who, for twenty 
long days and nights, sought the "tamanawas" in the 
wilds and kept watch on the mountain top, without food 
without clothing, praying to the Thunder God to endow 
him with the medicine power which would render him the 
first, the head chief of the tribe. Cedar withes he passed 
through the flesh of his arms and thighs, then, fastening 
the bonds 10 the trunk of a tree, he bore himself against 
the strain until the strong withes broke or else tore out 
from his bleeding muscles. With prickly spruce and dev- 
il's club, he tore his flesh, until, at length, faint with hun- 
ger, thirst, and pain, he lay prone on the ground as one 
nigh dead. Then the Thunder Bird came to him, fanning 
with his mighty wings the air upon Noqualmis' face. 
He spoke: 
"Noqualmis ! Noqualmis ! Noqualmis ! your vigil has 
been kept; your heart is brave, your body strong; for 
your fortitude, your abstinence, your bravery, the Thun- 
der God bids me tell you that you will be endowed with 
the great medicine of the Thunder. You will be the head 
chief of all your people, and long will you reign in the 
tribe. You will be victorious in war and your arm will 
be strong, your arrow and spear unerring in the hunt; 
your eyes will be cleai- and your feet swift. But, listen! 
Never doubt the power of the tamanawas given you. 
Though misfortune may sometime overtalce you, as it 
does all, do not doubt that good fortune will return. Do 
not think that our power will fail you, and, above all else, 
seek not the power a second time, else the Thunder which 
now guides your strength, and health, and power, may one 
day strike you dead. Oh! Noqualmis." Then, with 
mighty, flapping wings, the Bird rose from his side and 
flew across the range to the Great Home of the Thunder 
God — there! on yonder snow-capped mountain. 
Noqualmis raised himself up from the frozen earth. 
His body was sore. Thirst burned him up, and hunger 
gnawed his_ vitals; yet was his heart light, oh, boy! for 
he had earned what na other living man before him had 
possessed — the medicine of the Thunder God. 
With slow and painful steps, he went his way to the 
village. The old men of the tribe took him in to the 
lodge of his family. Tenderly they bathed him, dressed 
his wounds with sweet balsam, wrapped him up in warm, 
soft furs, and gave him food — ^broth of deer, fresh baked 
salmon, roots of the wild parsnip; and when he was 
strong and well, with all the wise men and mighty war- 
riors of the tribe, he sought out a giant cedar tree and 
felled it, slid it far through the woods on smooth skids to 
the water's edge, floated it to the village with great cere- 
mony, and then they carved it with much design, pictur- 
ing the stories of the prowess of the ancestors of No- 
qualmis in war and in the chase, and of his own wild 
adventures. Thirty long steps it was when finished, and 
of four steps' girth at base; and at the top was placed the 
emblem of Noqualmis, a' Thunder Bird with outstretched 
wings. Then all the strong men of our tribe — and they 
were many, for our lodges reached from river mouth to 
yonder bluffs, 800 long steps — came and raised the pole 
upright in the old way, which you cannot see nowadays, 
and the foot was three steps in the solid earth, set in the 
hole prepared for it. 
Then the. messengers were sent to the far-off 
tribes with calls to a great feast in honor of Noqualmis, 
and in due time they came, the tamanawas men, the wise 
women, gre^t chiefs and dancers of renown, all came, and 
when all were assembled, the great lodge of Noqualmis 
was cleared of everything but the dais about the four 
walls inside. Great fires were lighted, ten steps apart 
and five steps from the dais, all around the lodge upon 
the earthen floor, and these were kept replenished by the 
youth of the tribe from the vast stores of wood which 
had been gathered. Then all the tribe, and all the visit- 
ors filed in, the men in their war gear, the doctors in 
their tamanawas dresses, the women in their finery of 
broidered skins and necklaces and earrings of shell and 
of metal, and all seated themselves about the lodge on the 
great dais, and the song cf Noqualmis was begun. Softly, 
quietly, at first, while the drums and beating sticks gently 
tapped the rhythm'; then louder^ and fiercer came the song, 
the high, sweet voices of the women pierced the heart- 
laden air, the deep tones of the men shook the great 
lodge, while outside, the tribe's doctors blew wild notes 
on their war whistleS; made from the thigh bones of dead 
enemies. 
Then, at a signal, there leaped into the glare .of the 
encircling fires a great dancer and warrior. His coat 
was of soft yellow buckskin, reaching to the knees, and 
strung across both back and front with rows on rows of 
shells, bits of the rare yellow metal (native copper), feath- 
ers of the priceless mountain eagle (golden eagle). Arm- 
lets made of bunches of dried deer hoofs, strung on sinew 
cords, were on his wrists. His anklets were the same. 
His head dress was of the inner bark of the cedar tree, 
beaten soft, and glowing red, like blood. Twenty feath- 
ers from the tails of the mountain eagles, tipped with fur 
of the marten, nodded above all. The war paint was on 
his face, and the frenzy of the tamanawas made him 
terrible to behold, and, as he danced, now threading the 
row of fires, now leaping like the wild deer, now moving 
with quick, short steps, his bangles" rattled in time with 
the swiftly beating sticks and drums. Another signal, 
and all was quiet as the grave. Then the dancer began 
his own war song. The vast multitude assembled took 
it up, and wilder, higher, rose the .strain, quicker beat 
the sticks, lighter danced the warrior, until at length ex- 
hausted, he sank back on the dais among his friends 
and another took his place. 
Then women danced with slow, graceful movement 
to the refrain of a sweet, wild song. Medicine men danced 
in their terrible dresses of human hair and teeth, and 
masks carved to represent every creature in our land 
and sea. 
Then Noqualmis himself, the bravest of the brave, 
dressed more richly than any, danced and sang his song 
of the Thunder God, and of what he had seen and en- 
dured during his mountain vigil. 
Twenty days and nights did the festivities last. By 
day we feasted on the f^esh of elk, of deer, and of seal, 
salmon, and fish of other kinds; the roe of salmon pressed 
in the oil of seals; dried berries, shellfish, ducl^s and 
geese. Betimes we slept, and then at night was the 
dance renewed until the end of the time. 
Before the gathering dispersed to each and all were 
given presents — to some, skins of the beaver, the seal, 
and otter, both of land and sea; to others, blankets 
woven from the hair of the wild goat. These were torn 
in strips two fingers wide, and scattered amongst the 
crowd.* These strips were afterward unraveled by the 
women and rewoven. To others, again, were given bows 
and arrows, spears, bales of dried salmon, and cakes of 
dried berries, bladders of oil and cakes of elk tallow; 
slaves, too, taken from hostile tribes, canoes, and mats 
of cedar bark, shields of yellow metal, carved dishes of 
stone and wood, and spoons fashioned from the wild 
goats' horns, according to the standing of each, so was 
he endowed. 
When all was over, and ali presents given, Noqualmis 
was proclaimed head chief and greatest warrior of his 
tribe, and he took to wife the daughter of a great chief 
from the North, and then the visitors all departed, sing- 
ing praises of our tribe and of Noqualmis, and we were 
again left by ourselves. After all the vast hoard of pres- 
ents given, you will think, my boy, that Noqualmis would 
be poor; but he was young and strong, and mark you, he 
who gave thus in his declining years received double. 
So it was with us in the long ago. 
After this, it happened as the Thunder Bird had spoken. 
Noqualmis lived for many years as our head chief and 
greatest warrior and hunter. One day, when middle- 
aged, yet still strong and upright as a dart, he came home 
from hunting with gloom upon his brow. Long he sat, 
silent and alone, by the lodge fire. Then, at last, his 
father, an old man and wise, spoke thus: "Why is my 
son so gloomy; why sits he alone with sadness in his 
eyes? Speak! Oh, Noqualmis." 
Then Noqualmis spoke: "My father, the tamanawas 
has failed me. Thrice to-day my arrows glanced off the 
body of the elk; twice my fpear struck a tree limb in- 
stead of the bear's side; once I stumbled and fell, sorely 
injuring myself. To-morrow I climb the Mountain of 
Thunder, to again seek the magic." 
Then his father was much afraid, and begged him not 
to go, but Noqualmis turned away from him and sought 
his couch. On the morrow, at early dawn, he arose, 
dressed himself in his war clothes, but without painting 
his face, tried his trusty bow, filled his quiver with ar- 
rows tipped with black stone points. In his girdle he 
placed his war knife of shining green stone (jade), and 
when all was ready, he bade farewell to his weeping 
wife and children, stepped out of the lodge and gazed 
long to the West at the wild Thunder Mountain. Then, as 
he stood thus, the wise men and the doctors, the chiefs 
and the warriors, came to him and begged him not to 
go. "Remember Noqualmis, what was told you; not to 
seek the Thunder twice. Try again the hunting, and 
perhaps good luck will return to you. Think of us here, 
oh Noqualmis! Who will lead us to war against our 
ancient enemies; who show us the best hunting and fish- 
ing grounds?" But Noqualmis was proud, and his pride 
had been hurt in that he had failed in the hunting, so he 
answered: i * 
"The Thunder Bird lied! or, perhaps, he spoke thus to 
try me. I go." And so he passed from among them and 
out of the village, and was gone, and all that day the 
thunder roared and the lightning flashed. And long 
afterward it was revealed to the head doctor of the tribe 
that he journeyed on through the forest until he came to 
the mountain and began to climb. Up, up, ever up, and 
when he came to the edge of the woods, where ahead 
was nothing but bare rocks, a huge elk, the largest ever 
seen, stood barring the way. He spoke thus to Noqual- 
mis: "Turn back; your children cry for you, your wife 
weeps; your father and the other wise men call for you." 
But Noqualmis laughed, and, putting an arrow to the 
string, he shot it, swift and straight, at the elk's broad 
side; straight to its mark sped the tough shaft, into the 
dark brown side and out through to the other side; yet 
the beast moved not, nor showed sign of pain; and as No- 
qualmis gazed, in growing wonderment and fear, the great 
elk looked at him with large, sad eyes, but did not again 
address him. Then Noqualmis fitted another arrow to the 
polished sinew string and drew it back to the head, when 
snap! the strong string parted, and the elk, his eyes still 
fixed on Noqualmis, turned slowly, walked to the foot 
of the steep cliff, and disappeared like a smoke. 
Then Noqualmis was afraid, and would have turned 
back, but pride and fear of his tribesmen's laughter for- 
bade him, so, pressing on, he threw away the bow and 
drew his great stone knife to guard himself. Soon he 
reached a vast chasm, in the rocks, and, at the further 
end, on a high rock peak, he saw perched the Thunder 
Bird, who, when he saw Noqualm.is, cried out, "Noqual- 
mis, Noqualmis, turn back; remember my warning to 
you, oh! son of my bosom." But again the madman 
laughed and pressed on through the dreadful gorge. 
Then the Thunder Bird, rising on wing from his lofty 
perch, came flying down the chasm. The sound of his 
wings was like the roaring Avind, and .the air turned freez- 
ing cold before him. Straight at Noqualmis he flew, cry- 
ing, "Turn, turn, fool that thou art !" but when he was 
almost on him, Noqualmis dropped to the earth, and, ris- 
ing again on one knee, thrust his spear with force at the 
mightj' bird above him. The weapon seemed to pierce 
through and through, yet the strong barbs held not and 
the spear came out, while the bird, with mournful cry, 
flew far off and vanished amid the crags, and, lo! the 
spear in the man's hands was clean and free of blood. 
Again Noqualmis was afraid, but again he pressed on 
through the gorge and up to the top of the mountain, 
which was fair and level, but fenced about with great 
rock pinnacles, and in the center of a pleasant, grassy 
slope was a huge flat rock, smooth and black, and No- 
qualmis walked on this, m.arvelling at its hardness and its 
smoothness, when the awful quiet of the place 
was broken by .1 fearful peal of thunder, and the sharp 
Fire Sword of the Thunder God struck him down on the 
great rock. and. suddenly, the air got very cold, and snow 
fell, covering up the mountain top and the flat rock, and 
the dead body of Noqualmis, as he lay. And the snow 
has stayed there ever since, summer and winter alike, and 
the body af Noqualmis lies there where you see it from 
here, covered up in its snowy blanket, and no person may 
climb the mountain again, for the great fields of snow 
and ice around about it. 
A sharp shake of the arm awoke «ie. I started up and 
saw Jack's grinning face. I arose, stretched myself, and 
looked about me. The old man still sat on his board, 
his dim eyes fixed on the distant image of the snow-cov- 
ered Indian, now gilt and bejeweled with the rays of the 
setting sun. I handed him a plug of tobacco. "What 
were you telling the boy?" I asked. He laughed as he 
thanked me in his soft low voice, and answered: "I was 
telling him of our feasting and dancing in the long ago. 
He \jiill never see those scenes now. .A.-la-kas-la." (Good- 
by.) Mazama. 
COMOX, B. C, March 26 
Notes. 
Sunning Board. — The coast Indians have boards of 6 
or 8 feet in length by 12 or 18 inches wide, outside their 
lodges, on the south side, laid with a shght pitch and 
with a back board at the high end. On these the old 
people love to recline and sun themselves, whenever in- 
clination urges and weather permits. 
Tamanawas.— The ethereal essence or spirit of some 
beast, bird, or element, which was sought, and supposed 
to have been acquired, by all young men desirous of be- 
coming great warriors, hunters or doctors (magicians).. 
The tamanawas might be of the deer, the otter, crow, 
owl, raven, wasp, thunder, snow, and was commonly 
acquired by rites similar to those described. Much mys- 
tery was observed, however, in addition, and whites have 
never been able to get a thorough record of these. A 
species of Freemasonry seemed to prevail in these rites. 
Frenzy. — At dances, which no doubt partook of more 
mysticism, the dancer would become in a manner fren- 
zied. This was supposed to be brought on by the potent 
working of the mysterious "tamanawas" (elixir). 
^ Grit. 
When a man dies who has been conspicucais for cour- 
age, loyalty and good comradeship in all his relations 
with his fellow-men, a stone is apt to mark his grave and 
record his virtues. At the foot of our garden a little 
inound covers a heart that once harbored all these quali- 
ties, but that heart, when alive, beat in the body of a 
dog. 
Sam Patch was a bull terrier of many quarterings in 
the male line, but, from a bench show point of view, of 
no account on the distaff side of the house. Blue ribbons 
go-by favor in this world, but "true blue" is better said 
of the heart than of the blood, so I shall always consider 
Sam Patch's dam, Nellie, one of the wisest and most 
genteel old ladies that ever stepped on four paws. 
It was a sight to see her play hide and seek with chil- 
dren, with Nellie "It." How she would chase around 
in feigned bewilderment, and look behind every tree and 
bush but the right ones ! Then, when the last child had 
scrambled "home." how Nellie would rush up barking in 
surprise and protest at the evasion, then hide her head 
behind the barn door, and, I quite believe, shut her eyes, 
until a shout came to say that the game was on again. 
Her son, like many men, got his brains from his mother; 
his shape and fighting (jualities from his father — the latter 
being the cause why that scion of a noble house spent 
many hours of enforced inaction at the end of a chain. 
While Sam Patch dearly loved a fight, his keenness 
was tempered by the possession of an undershot jaw, that 
invariably landed him the under dog in every fray. Pru- 
dence being the better part of valor, he never deliber- 
ately "picked a muss." although he never refused one 
that was thrust upon him. A large connection of broth- 
ers and half-brothers kept him up to the mark, and, be- 
ing the runt of the family, and undershot at that, he soon 
learned to accept the role of under do,g as a matter of 
course, and, no doubt, there is nothing like a good "lick- 
ing," taken in the right spirit, to foster gameness — in a 
dog. We picked him out as the cleverest of the lot, and 
he grew up a member of the household, a playfellow to 
the children, and the responsive companion to their eld- 
ers, whose every mood and tone of voice met an answer 
in his intelligent eyes, and in the expressive picking up 
or depressing of his ears. The very wrinkles of his muz- 
zle spoke, and I rather think he did not talk merely 
because he did not want to. 
A lovable rascal, full of endearing faults, he had none 
of the pomposity of dignity by which big dogs made us 
feel small. He was greedy and dearly loved his ease. 
His bed was a hair pillow in a ncok at the foot of the 
stairs, but he knew of a down cushion on the parlor -sofa 
that was more to his sybaritic taste. Often have T tiptoed 
down the stairs, after lights were out, to catch him in 
"flagrante delictu." Half way down I would hear a 
scurry of muffled pads across the parquet floor, claws 
drawn in to avoid noise, and, when my candle flashed 
across his bed, there lay Patch with the face of a cherub 
just roused from slumber. A menacing shake of the fin- 
ger, and he instantly gave up the game, his expression 
changing to one of heartfelt contrition; but if by chance 
