been already
nearly, if not quite, exhausted. It is said that no sooner is the boom
of the paddle-wheel heard in the noiseless Alaskan sea than the Indian
proceeds to empty of its treasures his cedar chest or his red Chinese
box studded with brass nails, and long before the steamer heaves in
sight the primitive bazar is ready for the expected customer. There is
much haggling over the price of a curio, and but little chance of a
bargain. If one has his eye upon some coveted object, he had best
purchase it at once at the first figure; for the Indian is not likely
to drop a farthing, and there are others who will gladly outbid the
hesitating shopper.

Time is no object in the eyes of these people. If an Indian thought he
could make a quarter more on the sale of a curio by holding it a month
longer, until the arrival of the next excursion boat, or even by getting
into his canoe and paddling a day or two over to the next settlement, he
would as lief do it as not. By the merest chance I drew from a heap of
rubbish in the corner of a lodge a Shaman rattle, unquestionably
genuine. This Shaman rattle is a quaintly carved rattle-box, such as is
used by sorcerers or medicine-men in propitiation of the evil spirit at
the bedside of the dying. The one I have was not offered for sale, nor
did the possessor seem to place much value on it; yet he would not budge
one jot or tittle in the price he first set upon it, and seemingly set
at a guess. Its discovery was a piece of pure luck, but I would not
exchange it for any other curio which I chanced to see during the whole
voyage.

In one of the lodges at Casa-an a chief lay dying. He was said to be the
last of his race; and, judging from appearances, his hours were fast
drawing to a close. He was breathing painfully; his face was turned to
the wall. Two or three other Indians sat silently about, stirring at
intervals a bright wood-fire that burned in the centre of the lodge. The
curling smoke floated gracefully through a hole in the roof--most of it,
but not quite all. As we entered (we were in search of the dying chief;
for, as he seemed to be the one lion in the settlement, his fame was
soon noised abroad) we found that the evangelist had forestalled us. He
was asking the price of salmon in San Francisco; but upon our appearance
he added, solemnly enough: "Well, we all must die--Indians and all." An
interpreter had reluctantly been pressed into service; but as the
missionary work was