d will lie in the fields, for it
heralds battle, starvation, or pestilence. The powerful nation that lived
here once was completely annihilated by an opposing tribe, and in the
valley in the western part of the Territory there are mounds where
hundreds of men lie buried. Spirits occupy the valley, and to the eyes of
the red men they are still seen, at times, continuing the fight.

In May, 1892, the last demonstration was made in the hearing of John
Willis, a United States marshal, who was hunting horse-thieves. He was
belated one night and entered the vale of mounds, for he had no scruples
against sleeping there. He had not, in fact, ever heard that the region
was haunted. The snorting of his horse in the middle of the night awoke
him and he sprang to his feet, thinking that savages, outlaws, or, at
least, coyotes had disturbed the animal. Although there was a good moon,
he could see nothing moving on the plain. Yet the sounds that filled the
air were like the noise of an army, only a trifle subdued, as if they
were borne on the passing of a wind. The rush of hoofs and of feet, the
striking of blows, the fall of bodies could be heard, and for nearly an
hour these fell rumors went across the earth. At last the horse became so
frantic that Willis saddled him and rode away, and as he reached the edge
of the valley the sounds were heard going into the distance. Not until he
reached a settlement did he learn of the spell that rested on the place.

ON THE PACIFIC COAST

THE VOYAGER OF WHULGE

Like the ancient Greeks, the Siwash of the Northwest invest the unseen
world with spiritual intelligence. Every tree has a soul; the forests
were peopled with good and evil genii, the latter receiving oblation at
the devil-dances, for it was not worth while to appease those already
good; and the mountains are the home of tamanouses, or guardian spirits,
that sometimes fight together--as, when the spirits of Mount Tacoma
engaged with those of Mount Hood, fire and melted stone burst from their
peaks, their bellowing was heard afar, and some of the rocks flung by
Tacoma fell short, blocking the Columbia about the Dalles.

Across these fantastic reports of older time there come echoes of a later
instruction, adapted and blended into native legend so that the point of
division cannot be indicated. Such is that of the mysterious voyager of
the Whulge--the Siwash name for the sound that takes the name of Puget
from one of Vancou