The Happy Hunting-Ground of the Ten'a

Abstract

IN the year 1887 the writer was left at a little Indian village on the lower Yukon River. The natives of this region are variously desigi nated as Ingiliks, Tinneh, or Ten'a. They are of Athapascan stock, and are related to the Apache and other tribes in the United States. Twenty years ago they were living in a nearly primitive condition. Stone implements had been discarded but a short time; and their legends, customs, and traditions were nearly all of a primitive character. On a hill overlooking the village was one of the ancient burialsites; and the graves were, and still are, objects of interest to visitors. Beside each grave, attached in some manner to a stake or to a tree, was an implement that had been used by the dead, or some utensil intended for his use. These were invariably broken or in some way rendered unserviceable. New tin pails would be thrust through by a stake, and nearly every grave had one of these to mark it. Guns, snowshoes, and other implements of the chase, were to be seen here and there. During the warmer months, and especially in the spring, the doleful crooning for the dead could be heard almost any morning from the hill-top; and if one cared to go up, he might find a man sitting in an attitude of dejection by the grave of his wife, or a widow, with her hair cut short at the neck, mourning by the grave of her husband. Such marks as these, indicating a tender regard for the memory of the dead, and probably a belief in their continued existence, could not fail to excite the curiosity of a resident among a people so lightly touched by civilization, and to lead him off into the pursuit of that phantom which has tantalized so many students of primitive races, the real status of their belief in a future existence. In the present instance, the extreme reticence of the people with regard to this subject, and the vagueness of their expressions concerning it, had produced the impression upon me that they had no settled belief. Yet there was a legend, and, after nearly a quarter of a century of daily intercourse with its guardians, it was run to earth in a dug-out on the bank of a tributary of the Yukon. There were some things that kept curiosity alive; notably, the parka feasts given every year in the fall, in memory of deceased relatives. At these festivals the resources of the host are taxed to the utmost, and often the accumulations of years are given away. We learned, in a general way, that it was done for the benefit of the dead; and that the food which was offered the 66