the palms of his hands, which he presses against each other, moving his arms at the same time up and down like a swimmer. Then he opens his hands, separating the palms, and the stick is seen to grow and to decrease in size. When it is time for the new Mā’mak˙’a to return from the woods, the inhabitants of the village go to search for him. They sit down in a square somewhere in the woods, and sing four new songs. Then the new Mā’mak˙’a appears, adorned with hemlock branches. While the Hā’mats’a is given ten companions, the Mā’mak˙’a has none. The same night he dances for the first time. If he does not like one of the songs, he shakes his staff, and immediately the spectators cover their heads with their blankets. Then he whirls his staff, which strikes one of the spectators, who at once begins to bleed profusely. Then Mā’mak˙’a is reconciled by a new song, and he pulls out his staff from the stricken man’s body. He must pay the latter two blankets for this performance, which, of course, is agreed upon beforehand. The attire of the Mā’mak˙’a is shown in Fig. 14. His face is painted black, except the chin and the upper lip.
The Olala (Fig. 15) is another member of this group. The braid on the right side of his head is made of red cedar bark. He also wears a neck ring, and strips of bark tied around his wrists and ankles. This figure is particularly remarkable, as the Tsimshian designate by this name the Hā’mats’a. Undoubtedly the Olala was acquired by them through intermarriage with the Hēiltsuk (erroneously called Bella Bella). They call the Olala also Wihalai’t (= the great dance).
The Lâ lenoq represents the ghost. He wears black eagle feathers (Fig. 16) in a ring of white cedar bark, to which fringes are attached which cover his face. He wears shirt and blanket, and a plain neck ring made of red cedar bark, … without any attachments. He carries a rattle (Fig. 17), which represents an eagle and is about a foot long. He does not dance, but lies down, only shaking his rattle.
The Sī’lic (Fig. 18) when dancing carries a long tube of softened kelp, closed at one side by a piece of wood, in his mouth. Suddenly he begins to blow it up, and the tube begins to grow out of his mouth, representing a snake.
The Ts’ē’k˙ois (Fig. 19) carries a great number of small whistles imitating the voices of birds. The Tlē’qalaq is represented in Fig. 20. He wears a raven headdress, and his genius is the spirit Wi’nalakilis. The latter lives on the sea, continually traveling in a boat. If a man happens to see him, he falls sick. Wā’tanum, another figure of these dances, wears a beard of red cedar bark, rising from the middle part of his forehead. His face is painted all black.
All these figures belong to the Mē’emk˙oat, every one representing a class protected by a certain spirit. As the meaning of these dances is kept secret by the societies, it is extremely difficult to obtain any information as to their significance. Each figure has a song peculiar to itself; but these songs, of which I obtained a considerable number, do not convey any information, as they are nothing but boastful announcements of the power and renown of each figure.
FIG. 15. Kwakiutl attire for Olala
FIG. 16. Kwakiutl attire for ghost dancer
FIG. 17. Kwakiutl ghost dancer rattle
FIG. 18. Kwakiutl attire for Sī’lic
FIG. 19. Kwakiutl attire for Ts’ē’k˙ois
FIG. 20. Kwakiutl attire for Tlē’qalaq
FIG. 21. Kwakiutl Nō’ntlemkyila mask
I indicated above that each of these figures has a peculiar way of dancing. A description of one of these dances may be of interest. Unfortunately I did not see it myself, but the information was obtained from a native whom I have reason to consider trustworthy. He said:
“During the dance Tsā’ek˙a whistles Ts’ē’koityala, which makes those who hear its sound happy, and Tliqiqs are frequently used. When the dance To’quit is to be performed, these whistles are heard in the woods and in the dancing house. A curtain is put up near the fire, separating a small room from the main hall, and in the evening all assemble to witness the dance. Several dancers hide behind the curtain, while others beat time with heavy sticks on the roof and on the walls of the house. During this time the whistles are silent; but as soon as the men on the roof stop beating time, the whistles are heard again. Now the audience begin beating time with sticks, at the same time singing, ‘A! Ai! ai! ai! aia aia!’ the tone being drawn down from a high key, down through an octave. Then four women make their appearance, their hair combed so as to entirely hide their faces. They go around the fire, and disappear behind the curtain. After four songs are sung, the chief declares that they have disappeared in the woods.
“The following day everybody—men, women, and children—is invited by one man or another, and they dance with masks. The next morning all go into the woods to look for the four women. They sing four new songs, and then the women make their appearance. They have become the Mā’mak˙’a, Kō’minok˙s, Hā’mats’a, and Tō’quit. The latter moves only very little when dancing. She holds her elbows pressed firmly against her sides. The palms of her hands are turned upward, and she moves them a little upward and downward. She sings, ‘Ya, ya, ya!’ and wears a necklet of hemlock branches. The four women next go home, accompanied by the crowd. When Tō’quit enters the house, the audience beat time with a rapid movement. She begins to dance; and when, after a short time, she cries, ‘Whip, whip, whip’ the people stop singing and beating time. Four times she runs tripping around the fire, forward and backward, holding her hands as described above. Then she turns around, and moves her arms in the same way as Mā’mak˙’a (see p. 50). Three times she opens her hands, trying to obtain her whistle from her spirit, but she does not succeed until the fourth time. She whirls the whistle against the people, who immediately stoop and cover their heads with their blankets, continuing to beat time. After a short time they uncover their faces to see what Tō’quit has been doing. It is supposed that meanwhile her genius is with her, and as a sign of his presence she holds a huge fish in her hands. She then takes up a knife and cuts it in two. Immediately it is transformed into Ci’tlem, the chief of the double-headed snakes. It grows rapidly in length, moves along the floor, climbs the posts of the house, and finally disappears on the beams.
