a little ways into the mouth of the river and then out into the
salt water again, bewildered and circling about, doubtless wondering
what had become of their parent stream.

The old chief came to our camp early, followed by his squaws bearing
gifts of salmon, porpoise meat, clams and crabs; and at his command two
of the girls of his family picked me a basketful of delicious wild
strawberries. He sat motionless by my fire all the forenoon, smoking my
leaf tobacco and pondering deeply. After the noon meal, which I shared
with him, he called Billy, my interpreter, and asked for a big talk.

With all ceremony I made preparations, gave more presents of leaf
tobacco and hardtack and composed myself for the palaver. After the
usual preliminaries, in which he told me at great length what a great
man I was, how like a father to all the people, comparing me to sun,
moon, stars and all other great things; I broke in upon his stream of
compliments and asked what he wanted.

Recalled to earth he said: "I wish you to pray to your God."

"For what do you wish me to pray?" I asked.

The old man raised his blanketed form to its full height and waved his
hand with a magnificent gesture towards the glacier. "Do you see that
great ice mountain?"

"Yes."

"Once," he said, "I had the finest salmon stream upon the coast."
Pointing to a point of rock five or six miles beyond the mouth of the
glacier he continued: "Once the salmon stream extended far beyond that
point of rock. There was a great fall there and a deep pool below it,
and here for years great schools of king salmon came crowding up to the
foot of that fall. To spear them or net them was very easy; they were
the fattest and best salmon among all these islands. My household had
abundance of meat for the winter's need. But the cruel spirit of that
glacier grew angry with me, I know not why, and drove the ice mountain
down towards the sea and spoiled my salmon stream. A year or two more
and it will be blotted out entirely. I have done my best. I have prayed
to my gods. Last spring I sacrificed two of my slaves, members of my
household, my best slaves, a strong man and his wife, to the spirit of
that glacier to make the ice mountain stop; but it comes on, and now I
want you to pray to _your_ God, the God of the white man, to see if He
will make the glacier stop!"

I wish I could describe the pathetic earnestness of this old Indian,
the simplicity with which he told of the sacr