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Updated: June 21, 2025
But we have been married almost a year, and we often refer to the strange interview we had with Chief Nittinat. Perhaps the Smoke-eller doctrine now popular among the northern Indians, and which corresponds to our spiritualism, may have some foundation in similar occurrences themselves. Who knows but Nittinat was talking to us through a medium?
"Oh, come!" ejaculated Charlie, starting up, "I say we have had enough of this artless historian's prattle; don't you?" "Consider," I urged, "how rare the opportunity of verifying tradition. Compose yourself, my friend, while I continue my interviewing." Turning to Nittinat I asked: "Why did the Indians destroy Captain Thorn's vessel?"
"Oh, the horrid wretch!" whispered Fanny: "Does he say he killed half a dozen slaves for amusement?" "If he did, Miss Lane," I answered; "was it worse than the elegant Romans used to do? The times and the manners have to be considered, you know." Fanny shuddered, but said nothing, and I went on addressing myself to Nittinat: "How many ships did you ever see in these waters at one time?
It was a very fine sight; our hearts were good; we were comforted." As no one uttered an opposing sentiment, Nittinat, after a pause, continued: "For many moons we feared the Bostons down on the Columbia would come to make war on us; and we went no more to trade with any ships. But after a time Kasiascall's heart grew big within him. He asked my advice. I said 'you are my brother.
I took out of my pocket a small magnifying-glass, which, although it could not restore what was worn away, brought to light all that was left of an inscription, probably the manufacturer's trade-mark, the only legible part of which was 17-0. "Did the Spanish captain give these to your cousin?" I asked. "Ugh!" responded Nittinat, nodding his tall extinguisher.
I offered him many skins, and my new wife. He swore at me. I am sworn at and laughed at for wanting wife with a white skin. White man take Indian wife when he please. Nittinat has many wrongs; yet Nittinat has good heart, all same. Bime-by big medicine-man come and make all right. White man all melt away like snow on the mountain-side.
As we came abreast of a certain inlet, Fanny cried out, "Look there!" and turning our eyes in the direction of her glance, we saw the canoe with its bronzed crew just disappearing up the narrow entrance, half-hidden in shrubbery. Our adventure was related at dinner in the steamer's cabin, and various were the conjectures regarding the identity of Chief Nittinat.
I repeated, when the spoons were hidden once more under the mantle of rushes, "and other white men too, I suppose. Did your people and the white people always keep on friendly terms?" "Me have good heart," answered Nittinat rather sadly. "Me and my cousins Wiccanish, Clyoquot, Maquinna, and Tatoocheatticus, we like heap sell our furs, and get knives, beads, and brass buttons.
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