Like all Alaska towns, it is situated at the base of lofty peaks along
the water's edge at the head of moderately pretty harbors. It seems to be
the generic home of storms, and the mountains, the rocks, the buildings,
and trees, and all, show the weird workings of nature's wrath. In 1863 it
was a thriving town where miners outfitted for the mines of the Stikeen
river and Cassian mines of British Columbia; but that excitement has
temporarily subsided, and the $150,000 government buildings are falling
in decay. The streets are filled with debris, and everything betokens the
ravages of time. The largest and most grotesque totem poles seen on the
trip here towered a height of fifty feet. Those poles represent a history
of the family and the ancestry as far as they can trace it. If they are of
the Wolf tribe a huge wolf is carved at the top of the pole, and then on
down with various signs to the base, the great events of the family and
the intermarriages, not forgetting to give place to the good and bad gods
who assisted them. The genealogy of a tribe is always traced back through
the mother's side. The totem poles are sometimes very large, perhaps four
feet at the base. When the carving is completed they are planted firmly in
front of the hut, there to stay until they fall away. At the lower end,
some four feet from the ground, there is an opening into the already
hollowed pole, and in this are put the bones of the burned bodies of the
family. It is only the wealthier families who support a totem pole, and
no amount of money can induce an Indian to part with his family tree.

[Illustration: SITKA HARBOR, ALASKA.
Reached via the Union Pacific Ry.]

THE GRAVES

of those not having totems are found in clusters, or scattered on the
mountain sides, or anywhere convenience dictates. The bones are put in a