18 
THE CONDOR 
Vol. XIV 
of timber, and covered with grass. At the extremity of the peninsula a string of 
rocky islets extends at right angles into the sound, giving the shelter that forms 
the cove, a placid, unruffled bay in almost any weather. 
On the sheltered side is a beach a few hundred yards long, extending nearly the 
length of the town, an ideal landing for canoes, and in sunny weather a delightful 
place in which to loaf, bathe, and do laundry work, as we observed. This beach, 
however, is not of hard sand, but of a yielding, coarse gravel, in which one sinks 
ankle deep at every step, but on this rocky, precipitous coast one is not apt to be 
critical of such minor details. Above the beach is a short, steep rise of a few yards 
to the level ground beyond. On the seaward side of the peninsula is another fine 
stretch of beach, about two miles in length, and of the same general character, 
though with here and there short stretches affording firm, sandy footing. At the 
northern end of this beach, where the coast becomes more rocky and broken, is a 
large lagoon, opening into the sea and flooded by the tides, surrounded by grassy 
meadows, and with several streams flowing into its upper end. Above the outer 
beach, as elsewfflere in the region except for the limited village site, the forest ex- 
tends nearly to the high tide mark, impassably dense, dark and forbidding. About 
half a mile from the village, and only a stone’s throw from the beach, is a small, 
shallow, freshwater lake, several acres in extent. This pond figures several times 
in Jewitt’s narrative, but though he describes it as at that time surrounded by open 
woods, free from underbrush, we found the forest hereabouts, as elsewdiere, choked 
with undergrow'th, wdiile, except in occasional spots, the shores of the lake w^ere 
overhung and hidden with drooping w’illow’S and alders. 
The town Itself and its inhabitants, we found quite as interesting as the 
animal life we were there to study. Probably in many respects the straggling 
rows of cabins present an appearance not greatly unlike the village first seen by 
Captain Cook, for even in those days the northwestern coast Indians built rather 
elaborate wooden domiciles. True, many of the houses are now embellished wnth 
glass windows, and a few have more or less elaborate bay windows or even front 
porches, but these details cannot be seen at any distance, and at a close view most 
of the houses are quite satisfyingly old and weatherbeaten in appearance; while 
some even of the most pretentious, if approached from the rear, are seen to be there 
of ancient design and workmanship, contrasting strangely with the more modern 
and garish “front”. It is doubtful if the village is as large as it was when Cook 
saw it, for he estimated the population at two thousand, and from the number of 
houses, it appears to be far below that at the present day. I had no other way of 
forming an estimate, for during the summer mo.st of the able-bodied inhabitants 
are absent, fishing or w^orking at the canneries, and the village had a very deserted 
aspect at the time of our visit. 
Some distance behind the town, at the edge of the beach, and nearly hidden in 
the woods, is the Indian burying-ground, the graves embellished with the most 
extraordinary decorations. The ancient custom of these people to bury with the 
departed, or to adorn his tomb with, his most cherished possessions, leads now-a- 
days to most incongruous combinations. Above the various graves were to be seen 
among other things, a phonograph wdth several broken records, a sewing machine, 
an iron bedstead, and a carefully constructed, miniature full-rigged ship, all very 
much the worse for the weather they had been through. 
The Indian tribes of the northwest coast, and the Mooachahts, or so called 
“Nootka Indians”, in particular, as one of the most powerful and warlike, have 
never been considered very trustworthy. The early history of the settlement of the 
region, aside from the almost incessant warfare carried on between the various 
