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.]