ght, and immediately disappeared. They supposed
she was much injured, as they afterwards saw a deck-load of lumber
floating, which they thought had come from her. They said it might be
the "Radama," bound for China.

OCTOBER 29, 1866.

To-day, when we were coasting along the shore, we saw Yeomans preparing
his canoe for a long excursion. It was lined with mats. In the middle
were two of the baskets the Indians weave from roots, filled with red
salmon-spawn. Against them lay a gray duck, with snowy breast; then,
deer-meat, and various kinds of fishes. Over the whole he had laid great
green leaves that looked like the leaves of the tulip-tree. The narrow
end of the canoe was filled with purple sea-urchins, all alive, and of
the most vivid color. I took one up, and asked him if they were good to
eat. He said, "Indian _muck-a-muck_, not for Bostons" (whites). His
arrangements looked a great deal more picturesque than our preparations
for picnics.

The light-keeper at Ediz Hook told us to-day that he had exhumed an old
Indian woman, whom some of her tribe had buried alive, or, rather,
wrapped up and laid away in one of the little wooden huts in their
graveyard, according to their custom of disposing of the dead. They had
apparently become tired of the care of her, and concluded to anticipate
her natural exit from the world by this summary disposition of her. Mr.
S. heard her cries, and went to the rescue. He restored her to the
tribe, with a reprimand for their barbarity, and told them the Bostons
would not tolerate such _mesahchie_ (outrageous) proceedings.

PORT ANGELES, October 31, 1866.

We made a spirited voyage to Victoria, across the Straits of Fuca. There
had been a very severe storm, which we thought was over; but it had a
wild ending, after we were on our way, and beyond the possibility of
return. We saw the California steamer, ocean-bound, putting back to
port. Our only course was to hasten on. The spray was all rainbows, and
there were low rainbows in the sky,--incomprehensible rainbows above and
below,--and the strongest wind that ever blew. It was all too wonderful
for us to be afraid: it was like a new existence; as if we had cast off
all connection with the old one, and were spirits only. We flew past the
high shores, and looked up at the happy, homelike houses, with a strange
feeling of isolation and independence of all earthly ties.

I staid on deck till every man had gone in, feeling that I b