Among tKe Quinie\ilts 
By R. L. HOOVER 
Cultus Jim’s Seal Hunt 
O N the coast of the State of Washington, 
due west of Seattle, lives a small tribe of 
Indians known as the Quinieults. Their 
village of a hundred small ramshackle huts is 
situated at the mouth of the Quinieult River 
where it flows into the Pacific Ocean. In olden 
times the tribe was one of the bravest and most 
warlike on the Pacific Coast, but of late years the 
ravages of disease have diminished their ranks 
until only a few hundred souls remain. 
The Quinieult River is a turbulent stream flow¬ 
ing through the Indian reservation from a deep, 
clear lake situated in the heart of the Olympic 
Mountains. This • stream has a peculiarity of 
which no other stream in the United States can 
boast, namely: that in it spawn a species of 
salmon that cannot be found in any other fresh 
water stream on the west coast of America. The 
salmon have a reputation for being the finest that 
“ever spread a mesh,” and as the Indians are the 
only ones allowed to fish on the reservation, 
their nets are a great source of revenue to them. 
The Indians belong to one of the many groups 
known at various times and places as Flatheads, 
because of an ancient custom of taking the 
papooses when three or four days old and bind¬ 
ing two boards on their heads in such a way 
that their skulls grow from nothing just above 
their eyes to a wedge-shape in the back. This 
custom was in vogue until a few years ago, when 
it passed out of use. Their language is most 
peculiar. It is full of strange clicking sounds 
like the click-click of a teamster to his horses. 
The Hudson Bay traders found it almost impos¬ 
sible to learn the language, so they inaugurated 
the Chinook language, which served as a substi¬ 
tute to be learned by Indian and trader alike. 
The Chinook wa-wa (talk) is used exclusively 
in all trade and business transactions with the 
Indians. 
While enjoying a two-weeks’ vacation among 
these strange people, I awoke early one morning 
to find the village astir, and upon making in¬ 
quiries was told that some of the braves were 
going to hunt sea-otter in their canoes. Owing 
to the surf it is but seldom that the Indians can 
get their canoes safely out on the open sea. 
The sea-otter is a small four-footed animal 
weighing from fifty to seventy-five pounds. It 
lives on the borders of the kelp and subsists on 
shellfish, which it gets on the bottom of the 
ocean. Because of the shallow water and greater 
abundance of kelp near shore it usually feeds 
during flood tide. The value of its fur has 
nearly caused its extermination, and many a 
hunter has spent a large part of his lifetime in 
its pursuit with slight reward. The white hun¬ 
ters shoot them from three-legged derricks 
which they erect at low tide, then when the tide 
floods, the hunter from his little crows-nest at 
the top is enabled to get a commanding view of 
the smooth water outside the surf that lines the 
coast. The Indians, however, usually hunt otters 
in their canoes. 
Upon going out I found Cultus Jim, the chief 
of the tribe, engaged in storing away a few T 
rounds of ammunition in a water-tight chest in 
case his canoe should meet with an accident and 
capsize. Charley Dan, the owner of the other 
canoe, was munching bread and dried fish as he 
watched the women launch the two big canoes 
and prepare them for the trip. Six men occupied 
each canoe, one at the bow with field glasses and 
a repeating rifle, while the other five paddled 
with long, powerful, noiseless strokes. The 
canoes dropped down to the mouth of the river 
where the fresh water of the mountains meets 
the saline of the Pacific. Waiting for a lull in 
the breakers, the canoes shot out through the 
surf and were soon rising and falling outside 
with the steady ground swell of the ocean. 
The canoes skirted the coast about half a mile 
apart, keeping a sharp lookout for their quarry. 
As the tide flooded the vigilance was increased, 
for they knew that if there were otter in the 
vicinity they would come in close to land to 
feed during high tide. 
We on shore had wearied of watching them 
from the backs of our ponies and had seated 
ourselves on a drift-log for a peaceful smoke, 
when we were brought to our feet by two shots 
fired almost simultaneously. “Must have missed 
them both,” growled my friend in a disappointed 
tone, and the fact that both canoes were lying 
quite still proved this to be true. 
After a few minutes’ wait the otter came to 
the surface for air and the canoes started in 
pursuit. Sea-otter usually travel in pairs, but 
when danger is near they always separate. Pad¬ 
dling a few hundred yards ahead, the canoes 
again stopped and waited for a small furry head 
to appear above the surface. A puff of smoke 
told those on shore that one had been sighted, 
and one of the canoes paddled rapidly off and 
stopped by what looked like a speck on the 
water, but was really a very fine sea-otter. 
The canoes then joined each other in an at¬ 
tempt to locate the other otter, but after circling \ 
for half an hour they gave up the quest and 
started homeward. 
That evening we watched them come through 
the surf, always stern first, so that the bow of 
the canoe was toward the onrushing breakers. 
After disembarking they got into a squabble as 
to whether the otter should belong to Cultus 
Jim, the man who shot it, or whether he should 
divide with the occupants of the other canoe. 
Cultus Jim was skinning his prize while the argu¬ 
ment had nearly grown into a free-for-all fight, 
when, a horseman rode rapidly up and threw 
down what looked to be the wet, bedraggled car¬ 
cass of a dog. Charley Dan pounced upon it 
like a hawk and proudly showed a deep rifle- 
wound in its head, which proved conclusively 
that it was the otter he had shot and lost. It 
had dived and probably been drowned without 
coming to the surface and had been washed 
ashore, where it was found by the horseman an 
hour before. The appearance of the second otter 
put a sudden end to the quarrel, and when the 
fur-trader offered them $350 apiece for the hides 
in the raw they haggled awhile, but finally ac¬ 
cepted. “Delate klosh mucki-muck,” drawled 
Cultus Jim, as his thoughts soared to plenty of 
provisions for the coming long winter. 
[While it is commonly supposed that the 
Chinook jargon is the outgrowth of the coming 
of the Hudson’s Bay and other traders, this is 
probably not true. No doubt the Chinook jargon 
existed long before the advent of the whites; 
but after the coming of the traders numerous 
words were added to it, and are found in the 
jargon to-day. Most of these words are from 
the French and English, and possibly some from 
the Russian language. This jargon has been 
compared with the so-called “Mobilian language’’ 
of the Gulf tribes, and the sign language of the 
plains. It was an attempt to form a common 
speech, and grew out of the necessities of trade 
and other intercourse between various tribes 
speaking different languages. Civilized people 
have made and are making efforts toward such 
a common language. We have had Volapuk and 
to-day we hear a great deal about Esperanto. 
The Chinook jargon is made up chiefly of 
Chinook words, with some from the Nootka and 
—now—many English and French words. The 
total number of words is not much more than 
750 , with about twice that number of phrases.— 
Editor.] 
