"During a long illness she came to my house quite often, but was sent away by those in charge; when I was at last able to sit up, I saw her approaching the house and went down to the kitchen to be ready to receive her. As usual I inquired after her wants, when she somewhat indignantly asked, 'Don't you suppose I can come to see you without wanting something?'

"One day as she sat in my kitchen a young white girl asked before her, in English, of course, 'Does Angeline know anything about G.o.d?' She said quickly in Chinook, 'You tell that girl that I know G.o.d sees me all the time; I might lie or steal and you would never find it out, but G.o.d would see me do it.'"

In her old age she exerted herself, even when feeble from sickness, to walk long distances in quest of food and other necessities, stumping along with her cane and sitting down now and then on a door-step to rest.

All the trades-people knew her and were generally kind to her.

At last she succ.u.mbed to an attack of lung trouble and pa.s.sed away.

Having declared herself a Roman Catholic, she was honorably buried from the church in Seattle, Rev. F. X. Prefontaine officiating, while several of the old pioneers were pallbearers.

A canoe-shaped coffin had been prepared on which lay a cross of native rhododendrons and a cl.u.s.ter of s...o...b..a.l.l.s, likely from an old garden. A great concourse of people were present, many out of curiosity, no doubt, while some were there with real feeling and solemn thought. Her old friend, Mrs. Maynard, stood at the head of the grave and dropped in a sprig of cedar. She spoke some encouraging words to Joe Foster, Betsy's son, and Angeline's sole mourner, advising him to live a good life.

And so Angeline was buried according to her wish, in the burying ground of the old pioneers.

YUTESTID.

After extending numerous invitations, I was pleasantly surprised upon my return to my home one day to find Mr. and Mrs. Yutestid awaiting an interview.

In the first place this Indian name is p.r.o.nounced _Yute-stid_ and he is the only survivor (in 1898) of Chief Sealth's once numerous household.

His mother was doubtless a captive, a Cowichan of British Columbia; his father, a Puget Sound Indian from the vicinity of Olympia. He was quite old, he does not know how old, but not decrepit; Angeline said they grew up together.

[Ill.u.s.tration: LAST VOYAGE OF THE LUMEI]

He is thin and wiry looking, with some straggling bristles for a beard and thick short hair, still quite black, covering a head which looks as if it had been flattened directly on top as well as back and front as they were wont to do. This peculiar cranial development does not affect his intelligence, however, as we have before observed in others; he is quick-witted and knows a great many things. Yutestid says he can speak all the leading dialects of the Upper Sound, Soljampsh, Nesqually, Puyallup, Snoqualmie, Duwampsh, Snohomish, but not the Sklallam and others north toward Vancouver.

Several incidents related in this volume were mentioned and he remembered them perfectly, referred to the naming of "New York" on Alki Point and the earliest settlement, repeating the names of the pioneers.

The murder at Bean's Point was committed by two Soljampsh Indians, he said, and they were tried and punished by an Indian court.

He remembers the hanging of Pat Kanem's brothers, Kussa.s.s and Quallawowit.

"Long ago, the Indians fight, fight, fight," he said, but he declared he had never heard of the Duwampsh campaign attributed to Sealth.

Yutestid was not at the battle of Seattle but at Oleman House with Sealth's tribe and others whom Gov. Stevens had ordered there. He chuckled as he said "The bad Indians came into the woods near town and the man-of-war (Decatur) mamoked pooh (shot) at them and they were frightened and ran away."

Lachuse, the Indian who was shot near Seneca Street, Seattle, he remembered, and when I told him how the Indian doctor extracted the buckshot from the wounds he sententiously remarked, "Well, sometimes the Indian doctors did very well, sometimes they were old humbugs, just the same as white people."

Oleman House was built long before he was born, according to his testimony, and was adorned by a carved wooden figure, over the entrance, of the great thunder bird, which performed the office of a lightning rod or at least prevented thunder bolts from striking the building.

When asked what the medium of exchange was "ankuti" (long ago), he measured on the index finger the length of pieces of abalone sh.e.l.l formerly used for money.

In those days he saw the old women make feather robes of duck-skins, also of deer-skins and dog-skins with the hair on; they made bead work, too; beaded moccasins called "_Yachit_."

The old time ways were very slow; he described the cutting of a huge cedar for a canoe as taking a long time to do, by hacking around it with a stone hammer and "chisel."

Before the advent of the whites, mats served as sails.

I told him of having seen the public part of Black Tama.n.u.se and they both laughed at the heathenism of long ago and said, "We don't have that now."

Yutestid denied that _his_ people ate dog when making black tama.n.u.se, but said the Sklallams did so.

"If I could speak better English or you better Chinook I could tell you lots of stories," he averred. Chinook is so very meager, however, that an interpreter of the native tongue will be necessary to get these stories.

They politely shook hands and bade me "Good-bye" to jog off through the rain to their camping place, Indian file, he following in the rear contentedly smoking a pipe. Yutestid is industrious, cultivating a patch of ground and yearly visiting the city of Seattle with fruit to sell.

THE CHIEF'S REPLY.

Yonder sky through ages weeping Tender tears o'er sire and son, O'er the dead in grave-banks sleeping, Dead and living loved as one, May turn cruel, harsh and brazen, Burn as with a tropic sun, But my words are true and changeless, Changeless as the season's run.

Waving gra.s.s-blades of wide prairie Shuttled by lithe foxes wary, As the eagle sees afar, So the pale-face people are; Like the lonely scattering pine-trees On a bleak and stormy sh.o.r.e, Few my brother warriors linger Faint and failing evermore.

Well I know you could command us To give o'er the land we love, With your warriors well withstand us And ne'er weep our graves above.

See on Whulch the South wind blowing And the waves are running free!

Once my people they were many Like the waves of Whulch's sea.

When our young men rise in anger, Gather in a war-bent band, Face black-painted and the musket In the fierce, relentless hand, Old men pleading, plead in vain, Their dark spirits none restrain.

If to you our land we barter, This we ask ere set of sun, To the graves of our forefathers, Till our days on earth are done, We may wander as our hearts are Wandering till our race is run.

Speak the hillsides and the waters, Speak the valleys, plains and groves, Waving trees and snow-robed mountains, Speak to him where'er he roves, To the red men's sons and daughters Of their joys, their woes and loves.

By the sh.o.r.e the rocks are ringing That to you seem wholly dumb, Ever with the waves are singing, Winds with songs forever come; Songs of sorrow for the partings Death and time make as of yore, Songs of war and peace and valor, Red men sang on Whulch's sh.o.r.e.

See! the ashes of our fathers, Mingling dust beneath our feet, Common earth to you, the strangers, Thrills us with a longing sweet.

Fills our pulses rhythmic beat.

At the midnight in your cities Empty seeming, silent streets Shall be peopled with the hosts Of returning warriors' ghosts.

Tho' I shall sink into the dust, My warning heed; be kind, be just, Or ghosts shall menace and avenge.

PART III.

INDIAN LIFE AND SETTLERS' BEGINNINGS.

CHAPTER I.

SAVAGE DEEDS OF SAVAGE MEN.

At Bean's Point, opposite Alki on Puget Sound, an Indian murdered, at night, a family of Indians who were camping there.

The Puyallups and Duwampsh came together in council at Bean's Point, held a trial and condemned and executed the murderer. Old Duwampsh Curley was among the members of this native court and likely Sealth and his counsellors.

One of the family escaped by wading out into the water where he might have become very cool, if not entirely cold, if it had not been that Captain Fay and George Martin, a Swedish sailor, were pa.s.sing by in their boat and the Indian begged to be taken in, a request they readily granted and landed him in a place of safety.