tissue of white cedar bark, bruised or broken into small strands, and woven into a girdle by several cords of the same material.  Being tied round the middle, these strands hang down as low as the knee in front, and to the mid-leg behind; they are of sufficient thickness to answer the purpose of concealment whilst the female stands in an erect position, but in any other attitude form but a very ineffectual defence.  Sometimes the tissue is strings of silk-grass, twisted and knotted at the end.  After remaining with them about an hour, we proceeded down the channel with an Indian dressed in a sailor’s jacket for our pilot, and on reaching the main channel were visited by some Indians who have a temporary residence on a marshy island in the middle of the river, where is a great abundance of water-fowl.”

The tribe of Indians known as the Wahkiacums has entirely disappeared; but the name survives as that of one of the counties of Washington bordering on the Columbia.  Wahkiacum is the county lying next west of Cowlitz.  When the explorers passed down the river under the piloting of their Indian friend wearing a sailor’s jacket, they were in a thick fog.  This cleared away and a sight greeted their joyful vision.  Their story says:—­

“At a distance of twenty miles from our camp, we halted at a village of Wahkiacums, consisting of seven ill-looking houses, built in the same form with those above, and situated at the foot of the high hills on the right, behind two small marshy islands.  We merely stopped to purchase some food and two beaver skins, and then proceeded.  Opposite to these islands the hills on the left retire, and the river widens into a kind of bay, crowded with low islands, subject to be overflowed occasionally by the tide.  We had not gone far from this village when, the fog suddenly clearing away, we were at last presented with the glorious sight of the ocean—­that ocean, the object of all our labors, the reward of all our anxieties.  This animating sight exhilarated the spirits of all the party, who were still more delighted on hearing the distant roar of the breakers.  We went on with great cheerfulness along the high, mountainous country which bordered the right bank:  the shore, however, was so bold and rocky, that we could not, until at a distance of fourteen miles from the last village, find any spot fit for an encampment.  Having made during the day thirty-four miles, we now spread our mats on the ground, and passed the night in the rain.  Here we were joined by our small canoe, which had been separated from us during the fog this morning.  Two Indians from the last village also accompanied us to the camp; but, having detected them in stealing a knife, they were sent off.”