e body being covered in cold weather
by a sort of corset of fur, curiously plaited and reaching from the arms
to the hip; added to this is a sort of petticoat, or rather tissue of
white cedar bark, bruised or broken into small strands, and woven into
a girdle by several cords of the same material. Being tied round the
middle, these strands hang down as low as the knee in front, and to the
mid-leg behind; they are of sufficient thickness to answer the purpose
of concealment whilst the female stands in an erect position, but in any
other attitude form but a very ineffectual defence. Sometimes the
tissue is strings of silk-grass, twisted and knotted at the end. After
remaining with them about an hour, we proceeded down the channel with an
Indian dressed in a sailor's jacket for our pilot, and on reaching the
main channel were visited by some Indians who have a temporary residence
on a marshy island in the middle of the river, where is a great
abundance of water-fowl."

The tribe of Indians known as the Wahkiacums has entirely disappeared;
but the name survives as that of one of the counties of Washington
bordering on the Columbia. Wahkiacum is the county lying next west of
Cowlitz. When the explorers passed down the river under the piloting of
their Indian friend wearing a sailor's jacket, they were in a thick fog.
This cleared away and a sight greeted their joyful vision. Their story
says:--

"At a distance of twenty miles from our camp, we halted at a village of
Wahkiacums, consisting of seven ill-looking houses, built in the same
form with those above, and situated at the foot of the high hills on the
right, behind two small marshy islands. We merely stopped to purchase
some food and two beaver skins, and then proceeded. Opposite to these
islands the hills on the left retire, and the river widens into a kind
of bay, crowded with low islands, subject to be overflowed occasionally
by the tide. We had not gone far from this village when, the fog
suddenly clearing away, we were at last presented with the glorious
sight of the ocean--that ocean, the object of all our labors, the reward
of all our anxieties. This animating sight exhilarated the spirits of
all the party, who were still more delighted on hearing the distant
roar of the breakers. We went on with great cheerfulness along the high,
mountainous country which bordered the right bank: the shore, however,
was so bold and rocky, that we could not, until at a distance