tree-trunks drift from the Yukon and are stranded
on the islands, so there is plenty for firewood. But upon our island
the women gather a vine and dry it. They collect seaweed for food in the
early spring, and dry it and press it into square cakes, which make good
food after they have hung long In the sun. They make baskets and sell
them to the white people. Often my uncle and I take them to Valdez, and
once we brought back fifty dollars for those my mother made. There is
always much to do."

"Don't you get terribly cold hunting in the winter?" asked Ted.

"Thlinkit boy not a baby," said Kalitan, a trifle scornfully. "We begin
to be hardened when we are babies. When I was five years old, I left my
father and went to my uncle to be taught. Every morning I bathed in the
ocean, even if I had to break ice to find water, and then I rolled in the
snow. After that my uncle brushed me with a switch bundle, and not
lightly, for his arm is strong. I must not cry out, no matter if he hurt,
for a chief's son must never show, pain nor fear. That would give his
people shame."

"Don't you get sick?" asked Ted? who felt cold all over at the idea of
being treated in such a heroic manner.

"The _Kooshta_[3] comes sometimes," said Kalitan, "The Shaman[4] used to
cast him out, but now the white doctor can do it, unless the _kooshta_ is
too strong."

[Footnote 3: Kooshta, a spirit in animal's form which inhabits the body
of sick persons and must be cast out, according to Thlinkit belief.]

[Footnote 4: Shaman, native medicine-man.]

Ted was puzzled as to Kalitan's exact meaning, but did not like to ask
too many questions for fear of being impolite, so he only said: "Being
sick is not very nice, anyhow."

"To be bewitched is the most terrible," said Kalitan, gravely.

"How does that happen?" asked Ted, eagerly, but Kalitan shook his head.

"It is not good to hear," he said. "The medicine-man must come with his
drum and rattle, and he is very terrible. If the white men will not allow
any more the punishing of the witches, they should send more of the white
medicine-men, if we are not to have any more of our own."

"Boys should not talk about big things," said the old chief suddenly. He
had been sitting quietly over the fire, and spoke so suddenly that
Kalitan collapsed into silence. Ted, too, quieted down at the old chiefs
stern voice and manner, and both boys sat and listened to the men
talking, while the snow still swirled abou