INTRODUCTION

T.F. McILWRAITH AND THE (BELLA COOLA INDIANS)1

John Barker

"What you come for?" asked the Indian bluntly. To explain the quest of an anthropologist seemed impossible in broken English, so the investigator tried flattery: - "To talk with you , Joshua." "Thenyou one [very] wise man" ...2 thnographies begin as conversations between anthropologists Eand their hosts. The best, those that retain a sense of humanity and authenticity, reflect the underlying conversations: if you listen closely, you almost hear the voices. The Bella Coola Indians ranks among the finest ethnographies of a northwest coast people. Part social analysis, part compendium, part encyclopaedia, it conveys the ancient wisdom spoken eloquently by Nuxalk (Bella Coola) elders like Joshua Moody. At the same time, it conveys the fascination and the profound respect that a young Canadian anthropologist, Thomas McIlwraith, developed towards the Nuxalk elders during months of intense conversations. Although McIlwraith's name appears on the title-page, The Bella Coola Indians is a collaboration to which both anthropologist and Nuxalk contributed. McIlwraith's goal was to collect surviving informa- tion about Nuxalk life as it was before the arrival of the Europeans. The Nuxalk co-authors had a different aim. Relating ancestral stories, details of past potlatches, notions of healing, and the like,

1"Bella Coola" derives from a name for all the speakers of the . Although formerly only the inhabitants of the called themselves Nuxalk, it is now the preferred name for the whole population (Kennedy and Bouchard 1990:338). 2McIlwraith (1987:52). x INTRODUCTION they pointed more to the enduring essence of Nuxalk culture. These pespectives combine to enrich The Bella Coola Indians. One could write several very different introductions to The Bella Coola Indians. One could look at it as a contribution to northwest coast ethnography, focusing upon social organization, religion, the potlatch, and the secret societies. Or one could examine the book within the framework of Nuxalk struggles to maintain their cul- ture in the face of European hostility. I touch upon these subjects, but my main concern is to trace the anthropologist's own journey of discovery; or, to change meta- phors, to examine the conversation from McIlwraith's side of the table. This choice reflects in part my own predilection. I first began reading about northwest coast people several years ago as part of a study of T.F. McIlwraith's career (see Barker 1987). This is commonly the way most people first learn of other peoples and other cultures. We arrive peering uncertainly over the shoulder of our guide, whether this be an anthropologist like C. Marius Barbeau or George Hunt, or a local story-teller. This introduction is thus addressed first to outsiders who have picked up this book to learn about the Nuxalk culture. But I hope that it will also be of interest to Nuxalk themselves. McIlwraith did not long remain a stranger. He was welcomed into the community. The elders came to trust and respect him enough to share many of their most sacred traditions with him. McIlwraith became the adopted son of Cap- tain Schooner, he took a major part in the winter ceremonials of 1923-24, and he is still remembered in Bella Coola by his Nuxalk name, Weena. I hope this introduction will help Nuxalk people know McIlwraith better, to understand what he was doing in Bella Coola and his part in the conversation that resulted in The Bella Coola Indians. This introduction traces the conversation between McIlwraith and his Nuxalk teachers through several phases. I start with McIlwraith's fieldwork, focusing on his methods. I then chronicle the book's difficult passage through the National Museum. The next section discusses the text itself, examining its blending of anthropological and Nuxalk perspectives and voices. In the final INTRODUCTION xi section, I examine the continuing conversation between The Bella Coola Indians and the Nuxalk people as they rediscover and revitalize their culture.

ANTHROPOLOGISTS ON THE NORTHWEST COAST

T.F. McIlwraith was bom in Hamilton, Ontario, in 1899. After serving with the British army in France in 1918, he enrolled at Cambridge University, planning to enter the British colonial service. He instead came under the influence of A.C. Haddon and W.H.R. Rivers, who convinced him to study anthropology. McIlwraith did well, receiving a First in the Anthropology Tripos of 1921. Paul Radin, visiting Cambridge in 1921, recommended McIlwraith to Edward Sapir, the Chief of the Anthropology Division at the Victoria Memorial Museum in Ottawa: "He really would be a remarkable find if you could secure him."3 McIlwraith eagerly accepted Sapir's invitation to undertake a few months' fieldwork in Bella Coola. The coastal area of was an obvious place for ethnographic fieldwork. European scholars had long admired the spectacular artistry and ceremonialism of the coastal peoples. This interest had led the British Association for the Advancement of Science and the American Museum of Natural History to sponsor Franz Boas's frequent visits to the coast. Upon his appointment to the new Anthropology Division at the Victoria Memorial Museum in 1910, Sapir pushed for a systematic survey of Native peoples in in which the coast received top priority (Sapir 1911; Cole 1973). Sapir himself worked among the Nuu-Chah-Nulth (Nootka) on Island, while C. Marius Barbeau began work with the Tsimshian in 1915. By the time McIlwraith arrived on the scene, ethnographers, including Native researchers like George Hunt and William Benyon, had recorded a substantial body of information on the major coastal cultures of British Columbia (Suttles and Jonaitis 1990).

3 Radin to Sapir, 7 Sept. 1921, ESMU. xii INTRODUCTION

Nuxalk culture, however, remained relatively undocumented. Although a small group, the Nuxalk had provided a focus of anthropological interest at several key historical moments. In 1793, Alexander Mackenzie completed his famous overland trip to the Pacific Ocean through the Bella Coola valley. His journals provide "valuable comprehensive data concerning Bella Coola village sites, technology, and Native use of European trade goods" (Kennedy and Bouchard 1990:336). In 1885, two Norwegian brothers, Captain J. Adrian and Fillip B. Jacobsen, assembled a team of nine Nuxalk dancers and took them to Germany. Franz Boas, then an assistant at the Museum für Völkerkunde in Berlin, studied their language, stories, and music (Cole 1985:72; 1982). This experience helped convince him to undertake studies of the northwest coast. Boas met up with the Nuxalk dance troupe again upon his arrival in Victoria in 1886 and visited Bella Coola itself in 1897. A few articles by the Jacobsens4 and Boas's 'The Mythology of the Bella Coola Indians' (1898) made up the entire literature on the Nuxalk when Sapir began looking for a fieldworker. In 1916, Sapir tried unsuccessfully to secure a contract for Paul Radin. From 1920 to 1924, Harlan I. Smith, the archaeologist at the Victoria Memorial Museum, surveyed Nuxalk material culture, subsistence, and medicines.5 Sapir asked McIlwraith to study the remaining aspects of Nuxalk culture, particularly social organiza- tion and religion. By 1922, the Nuxalk had been greatly affected by more than a century of interactions with Europeans. At the time of Mackenzie's visit in 1793, they occupied several autonomous villages dispersed along the Bella Coola valley, the North and South Bentinck Arms, Dean Channel, and Kwatna Inlet. Smallpox and other introduced diseases devastated their population throughout the nineteenth

4The Jacobsens wrote on Nuxalk mythology and ceremonialism. See Kennedy and Bouchard (1990) for a full bibliography. 5The arrangement of Smith's fieldnotes suggests that he may have planned to publish a book on Nuxalk material culture (Margaret Stott: personal communication). Smith's articles on Nuxalk medicine, healing, and material culture are listed in Kennedy and Bouchard (1990). INTRODUCTION xiii century.6 The Hudson's Bay Company ran a post at Bella Coola from 1869 to 1882. In 1883, Chief Tom of Bella Coola invited a part-Tsimshian Methodist minister, William Pierce, to begin a mission to the Nuxalk (Pierce 1933:44). Meanwhile federal sur- veyors now reduced Nuxalk lands to small reserves. In the 1890S, a colony of Norwegian families settled at Hagensborg and the Bella Coola townsite (Kopas 1970). Over the years, the Nuxalk survivors gradually congregated on a reserve near the mouth of the . The last of the outliers, the Kimsquit, moved to the reserve in 1922. By this time most of the Nuxalk were at least nominally Christian and many were employed seasonally in the local canneries and in logging.

FIELDWORK IN BELLA COOLA, 1922-24

On 7 March 1922, McIlwraith boarded the comfortable coastal steamer Camosun, arriving two days later at Bella Coola. The white community was located at the townsite near the wharf. Most of the Nuxalk lived in frame houses on the reserve about two kilometres further down a muddy track. A few more Nuxalk lived in decaying traditional houses at Qw umkw uts7 across the river from the Indian settlement. McIlwraith rented a room at a boarding-house run by Mrs. Andy Christenson at the townsite. This was to be his base during his two seasons of fieldwork. Many years later, McIlwraith recalled his inauspicious intro- duction to fieldwork: "Indians all in houses, not very friendly, no English, dogs nasty, solid rain" (McIlwraith n.d.). Undaunted, he threw himself into his work. He first approached Joshua Moody,8 a man in his mid-fifties who had previously worked with Harlan

6 Boyd (1990) estimates that the Nuxalk population declined from 2,910 people in 1774 to 402 in 1868. When McIlwraith arrived, the Native population still hovered around 400 and was only just beginning a slow climb upwards (Duff 1964). 7This became the site of both the town and reserve following flooding on the north side of the river in the 1930S. 8McIlwraith describes Joshua Moody in a popular account of his fieldwork (McIlwraith 1987:53) and in this book (vol. II, p. 525). xiv INTRODUCTION

Smith. Communication presented an immediate challenge, as Joshua spoke only a smattering of broken English. McIlwraith considered some younger Nuxalk but concluded that they "have such a supreme contempt for the old customs that they are almost useless as interpreters."9 He instead hired two local cannerymen who understood ,10 Charles Lord and Bert Robson. By the beginning of May, he felt confident enough of his Chinook to proceed without an interpreter. McIlwraith worked at a feverish pace. On 21 March, he wrote to W.H.R. Rivers of his daily routine: "After breakfast I set out for the [reserve], taking lunch with me, and put in about seven hours of solid talk. By that time my interpreter's head is reeling, Joshua complains that a head-ache keeps him awake at night, while I have been known to talk in my sleep. The day's work is shorter than I like, but under the circumstance I cannot see how to lengthen it."11 But there were more serious problems than time and language. The most annoying was the Nuxalk's adherence to Christianity. Few people would break the Sabbath to talk with McIlwraith. He was also worried that informants were mixing Nuxalk lore with Christian elements. Joshua Moody, McIlwraith complained, had "an unpleasant habit of comparing Indian theology with parts of the Old Testament, about which he knows much more than I."12 This was a nuisance, but a second problem threatened the whole project. Most of the Indians left for the eulachen run13 during the first part of May. McIlwraith realized that when the canneries

9TFM to Rivers, 21 March 1922, HCL. I return to the relations between the elders and younger Nuxalk in the final section of this introduction. 10This was a simple trade language made up of words from a variety of indigenous and European languages, used up and down the northwest coast until English became the preferred language. 11TFM to Rivers, 21 March 1922, HCL. 12"I can get a collection of folk-tales and so on, but when I ask about the meanings and so forth the answers are so tinged with Xianity that I am tempted to swear" (TFM to Haddon, 7 June 1922, HCL). 13Also known as "candlefish," these small fish yield an edible oil, highly prized on the northwest coast. INTRODUCTION xv

moved into full production in a few weeks the village would empty completely. He was lucky. Two extraordinarily knowledgeable men stayed behind in the 1922 season. Jim Pollard, a Kimsquit man, was nursing his sick wife. A gifted composer and singer of songs, Pollard had "given more potlatches than any other Indian of either Bella Coola or Kimsquit" (vol. II, p. 340). He had been equally successful in the whiteman's world, working as a guide for pros- pectors, and had "succeeded in amassing and saving a consider- able amount of money" (ibid., p. 525). "When I go to his house," McIlwraith wrote to his family, "he always hauls out a scrupu- lously clean table in front of the window, brings a chair for me, and starts to tell stories."14 Pollard refused to be pushed by the impatient anthropologist and set his own agenda, first relating the ancestral stories that validated his own names. McIlwraith appre- ciated Pollard's knowledge and eloquence, but he never entirely trusted him. Captain Schooner also remained in the village nursing an injured wrist. About eighty years of age, Schooner came closest to what McIlwraith imagined as the "original, uncontaminated Bella Coola type" (vol. II, p. 525; cf. McIlwraith 1987:54-5). One of the last pagans, he willingly reminisced about the passing ways of the Nuxalk. Missing most of his teeth, making his muttered Chinook hard to follow, and practically deaf, Schooner was far from an ideal informant. Yet he provided something as important as information - friendship: "With old Schooner and his family in particular I am free to go in, sit down, and chaff them along to my heart's content ... They smile and laugh on the slightest excuse, and are as brimful of laughter as school-kids. It is pleasant to work with them."15 By the end of May, McIlwraith had already written a thousand pages of notes.16 With Pollard and Schooner, he could put in "more than nine hours of work a day, which is quite all I can

14TFM to family, 12 May 1922, MF. 15TFM to family, 24 June 1922, MF. 16TFM to Sapir, 27 May 1922, MMU. xvi INTRODUCTION stand."17 McIlwraith sent Sapir an overview of Nuxalk traditional culture at the end of July, noting that he had recorded more than two hundred stories. While feeling that he had "enough informa- tion to make an intelligible account," McIlwraith expressed a desire to return later to Bella Coola to fill the gaps in his notes and to record songs.18 Sapir arranged for a small stipend to allow McIlwraith to write up his notes and agreed to sponsor a second expedition. Working at home in Hamilton, Mcllwraith completed the manuscript of 300,000 words and cross-indexed it for reference in the field.19 As he was preparing to depart in March, his mother became seriously ill, passing away in late August. McIlwraith stayed home, defer- ring his departure until the middle of September. He arrived to a warm welcome in the Nuxalk community, "more than I ever had anywhere I think from everyone, including a lot of Indians whom I did not know, or only knew slightly."20 He was saddened to hear that Captain Schooner and another impor- tant Nuxalk man, Willie Mack, had died a few weeks before his return. Although the winter rains had started, turning the track between the town and the reserve into a bog, McIlwraith had arrived at an ideal time for fieldwork. Most of the Nuxalk were at home and, now familiar with the young anthropologist, willing to talk. In the past, September had marked the beginning of the winter ceremonial season. The Indians then began the planning for weeks of feasts and potlatches to pass on and validate names and the dances and associated rituals of the sisaok and kusiut societies. But the potlatch was illegal, and Alert Bay people had been prosecuted for potlatching only the previous year.21 "I am afraid that the law prohibiting the potlatch will prevent any Indian dances this winter, but I live in hopes [sic]," McIlwraith wrote one

17TFM to family, 24 June 1922, MF. 18TFM to Sapir, 30 July 1922, MMU. 19TFM to Sapir, 25 Feb. 1923, MMU. 20TFM to Mr. McIlwraith, 29 Sept. 1923, MF. 21The Canadian parliament enacted the anti-potlatch law in 1884. It was dropped from the Indian Act in 1951. See LaViolette (1961) and Fisher (1977). INTRODUCTION xvii correspondent, "I am supposed to be taking part in one myself and it would be very funny if it should land me in jail."22 The Nuxalk, however, were more concerned about the gap left by Captain Schooner's death. On the eve of the dances, according to McIlwraith, one chief said to his fellows: "Let us not be too depressed at Schooner's death, his son is with us, let him take his father's place."23 Late in November 1923, McIlwraith entered into the most extraordinary period of his fieldwork. Over the next six weeks, he laboured on the backstage preparations, joined in performances, and shared the food and goods distributed nightly at the community hall on the reserve. He then waded and slid through a dark sea of mud back to the townsite, dropping into bed at 3 or 4 in the morning. Few Europeans ever had as close a look at the winter ceremonials. McIlwraith's letters make fascinating reading. He describes his debut in a letter to his father:

I solemnly sat among the seven nobles at the top of the hall, no other white man present. After various delays the choir got to work, singing and beating time with sticks on the floor, and out pranced a lad dressed in an old blanket, and with cedar bark collar; he danced around with jumping steps in time to the music, while the women droned out their song. Then song after song was sung and several lads danced, one after the other as the proper song of each was used, also a few women. It was fairly impressive, and would have been decidedly so in an old house with a central fire but it looked out of place in a white man's type of hall with garish lamps ... Then an old boy hauled me off to the enclosure at the back where an old blue blanket decorated with mother-of-pearl buttons was put on me, also several cedar-bark collars, and as the last touch a ... old woman came on the scene with her hands stained with soot and rubbed these over my face ... My sponsor stepped out and said that he had picked a successor to Schooner, to whom he was giving the name

22TFM to E.S. Fegan, 13 Oct. 1923, HCL. Although he discouraged whites from attending the dances, McIlwraith was not overly concerned about breaking the law himself. Following the winter ceremonial season, he wrote to Haddon: "As a govern- ment official I found considerable amusement in receiving my share of whatever was being distributed, as well as helping with pencil and paper to figure out how much each should get" (TFM to Haddon, 16 March 1924, HCL). 23TFM to Mr. McIlwraith, 5 Dec. 1923, MF. xviii INTRODUCTION

xwots konis, whereupon I strolled forth and bellowed out my few remarks in my best Bella Coola. It was the first that most of those present knew of the affair and I believe I made quite a hit.

The activities that night, as most nights, concluded with a potlatch at which McIlwraith "collected $1.00, and about five pounds of hard tack and soda biscuits."24 As Captain Schooner's son, and the heir to one of his names, McIlwraith entered into both the kusiut and sisaok societies; he was initiated into the "cannibal dance," made speeches, and pos- sessed "the (theoretical) right to kill anyone who errs in the ritual."25 At the end of December, he assumed an even more central role.

I have been given rather a funny job. Each dancer has his song which is made by the choir only a few hours before his dance, and which is bellowed forth line by line while the people sing. These songs are repeated night after night and it is a brute for the man whose duty it is to remember these to do so, often thirty or forthy [sic] songs. In the old days there would have been three or four of these men sitting by the announcer to whisper to him what he should call forth; now there is only one man who combines in himself the duties of announcer and remembrancer. This individual got the happy inspiration of having me write down the words and be ready to whisper them to him whenever he poked me in the ribs. So I am an established member of the choir, and when I walk in in the evening go straight up [sic] to the head of the hall and greet the choir with, "Hello, fellow-singers."26

McIlwraith wrote to Sapir that his new position "has given me a wonderful insight into the manner of making the songs, and also the way they are sung."27 After the excitement of the winter ceremonials, which ended in early January 1924, the final seven weeks of fieldwork were something of an anticlimax. McIlwraith concentrated on filling gaps and straightening up ambiguities in his fieldnotes. In early

24Ibid. See also the description in McIlwraith (1987). 25TFM to Sapir, 26 Dec. 1923, MMU. 26TFM to Mr. McIlwraith, 1 Jan. 1924, MF. The announcer was Jim Pollard. 27TFM to Sapir, 26 Dec. 1923, MMU. INTRODUCTION xix

February, he unpacked a gramophone recording machine sent from the Museum. After a crowd of Nuxalk sang into the machine, McIlwraith decided to have Jim Pollard record most of the songs, as he had the best . He recorded 58 four-minute wax cylin- ders, containing more than 120 songs.28 He transcribed and trans- lated the Nuxalk texts, which appear in volume two.29 McIlwraith left Bella Coola the first week of March, "carrying away a great many pleasant memories."30 He never returned.

THE INTENSE STUDY OF MEMORIES: FIELD METHODS

McIlwraith came to know Bella Coola intimately. He joined in the winter ceremonials, visited Nuxalk friends, and explored the spectacular Bella Coola valley with Nuxalk friends. In the white community, he chummed with the son of his landlady, attended dances with a young schoolteacher, and helped to negotiate a friend through a sticky engagement and then served as best man at the wedding. McIlwraith wrote perceptively in his letters of the interests and prejudices that bound and divided the two commu- nities. Yet, with the exception of a Nuxalk funeral he witnessed in 1922 (vol. I, pp. 474-95), he reports few of his own observations in The Bella Coola Indians. Even his descriptions of the kusuit perfor- mances are drawn almost exclusively from informant testimonies (vol. II, p. 26o).31 McIlwraith's fieldwork orientation falls within the compass of "salvage ethnography" (Gruber 1970). He wished "to collect information on Bella Coola life as it was before the breakdown of their own culture" (vol. I, p. xl). Some present-day activities provided important clues to the past society. But these had to be

28TFM to Sapir, 4 March 1924, MMU. 29These are held by the Canadian Museum of Civilization in Ottawa. Anton Kolstee, who studied Nuxalk music in the 1970S, found the recordings to be in poor shape. He was able to transcribe only eleven songs (Kolstee 1977:7). 30TFM to Mr. McIlwraith, 7 March 1924, MF. 31McIlwraith does state that "actual participation enabled me to understand the winter dances in a manner impossible from mere description" (vol. I, p. xlv). One imagines that he draw heavily upon his experience when interviewing his informants. xx INTRODUCTION treated cautiously because they were often "contaminated" by Western influences. Given the expense and brevity of fieldwork, there was dubious value in spending much time studying the contemporary society. Thus McIlwraith confided to Harlan Smith that the "greatest time-killer has been the dances ... Of course I glean some information in this way but the dances have so altered from the old style that I do not get enough to compensate me for sitting from 6.00 to midnight or later every night."32 McIlwraith believed that elders were the best sources of information on the traditional society. Hence he concentrated his efforts on recording their memories, paying them at a rate of 40 cents an hour. One would be committing a historic fallacy to expect McIlwraith to have done otherwise. The object of anthropological research on the coast had been to cull ethnographic truths from the ruins of contemporary Native cultures. McIlwraith was merely doing the job he was hired to do. Anthropologists only began studying Native adaptations to changing conditions around the time that The Bella Coola Indians was published. Still, as Sanjek (1990) points out, the aim of reconstructing traditional cultures from memories rests on shaky conceptual grounds. McIlwraith's oldest infor- mants could remember back to the 186os. While Nuxalk had clearly enjoyed much greater political and cultural autonomy then, they were hardly unaffected by decades of interactions with outsiders that had brought new goods and ideas into their commu- nities and had left much of their population dead. Nor should one assume that all the elders' memories were always reliable or easily understood. Salvage ethnography thus relied less upon careful historical reconstructions and more upon simply ignoring histori- cal influences. Such reconstructions implied that "traditional cultures" were static entities which could be understood apart from the histories and creative energies of their people. They also tended to confirm the common assumption that Native cultures

32TFM to Smith, 7 Jan. 1924, SMU. Elsewhere Smith backed up McIlwraith's assessment: "I am sorry you could not have seen all the ... dozens of dances, yes, I guess hundreds of them, that I saw [in 1898]' (Smith to TFM, 15 May 1925, SMU). INTRODUCTION xxi had been so shattered by colonization that soon nothing of the old ways would remain. Working from this assumption, McIlwraith saw the contemporary winter ceremonials as faded vestiges of a rapidly receding past. It never occurred to him that they might signify an adaptation of Nuxalk culture to new conditions. In the course of three decades of research on the northwest coast, Franz Boas had developed a style of salvage ethnography that McIlwraith refers to as the "American school of anthropol- ogy" in the Preface. The main job of the fieldworker, according to Boas, was to transcribe texts dictated by informants, preferably in the vernacular, and then translate them on the spot. These narratives then became the basis for reconstructions of cultures and cultural histories. The fieldworker required linguistic facility, but need not stay long or interact much with a community. Hence Boas acquired many of his texts from talented Native fieldworkers like George Hunt and Henry W. Tate (Maud 1982; Sanjek 1990). McIlwraith also relied on transcriptions. He wrote down hun- dreds of myths, stories, anecdotes, and songs repeated by his informants. However, he did not accord texts the importance that Boas did. He took a more casual approach to transcription. He almost certainly recorded texts, other than songs, in Chinook or English33 and he had to be pushed by both Sapir and Nuxalk informants to record alternative versions of myths and stories.34 For McIlwraith, transcribing texts was not the end of fieldwork but part of a much broader and more personal inquiry. McIlwraith thought of himself as an inquirer rather than a transcriber. His description of the "English school of anthropol- ogy" in the Preface echoes W.H.R. River's methodological de- scription of the "intensive study of limited areas,"35 published in 1913.

33McIlwraith frequently refers to the difficulties he had distinguishing different Nuxalk phonemes. He thus found it very hard to transcribe Jim Pollard's songs, even when the verses were spoken to him. Given the huge number of texts McIlwraith recorded in the field, this suggests that he or the Nuxalk translated them on the spot. 34See, for instance, the introduction to chapter 6, "Origin Myths." 35This slogan was coined by A.C. Haddon (Stocking 1983). xxii INTRODUCTION

A typical piece of intensive work is one in which the worker lives for a year or more among a community of perhaps four or five hundred people and studies every detail of their life and culture; in which he comes to know every member of the community personally, in which he is not content with generalized information, but studies every feature of life and custom in concrete detail and by means of the vernacular language ... It is only by such work that it is possible to discover the incomplete and even misleading character of much of the vast mass of survey work which forms the existing material of anthropology. (Quoted in Sanjek 1990:207)

Rivers wrote this statement at a time when British anthropologists were experimenting with a variety of fieldwork techniques. While clearly endorsing long-term study, the statement should not be read narrowly as advocating participant observation within a living culture. McIlwraith aimed for an intensive study of Nuxalk memory culture. By learning their mental culture, he would gain such a comprehensive and empathic knowledge of the Nuxalk that they became "his people" (vol. I, p. xli-xlii). McIlwraith drew upon his Cambridge training in several ways. Among River's best-known methodological contributions is the so-called genealogical method: a means for tracing the ancestry and kinship links between members of a community. Rivers argued that genealogies provided a social blueprint for kin-based societies within which a vast assortment of data on such things as residence, totems, cosmology, and exchanges could be arranged and understood (Stocking 1983:88). McIlwraith set out to record genealogies within a week of his arrival in Bella Coola.37 However, his informants had trouble remembering links and even kin terms, and he soon decided that religion instead formed the key to Nuxalk society. The Cambridge professors had also helped to write Notes and Queries on Anthropology (British Association for the Advancement of Science 1912). McIlwraith's sense of what infor- mation to seek and questions to ask was likely guided by this fieldwork manual.38

36Urry (1972) and Stocking (1983) review the evolution of fieldwork in British anthropology. 37TFM to Rivers, 21 March 1922, HCL. 38The encyclopaedic presentation of The Bella Coola Indians appears to reflect the subject divisions and typologies of the manual. INTRODUCTION xxiii

, McIlwraith also drew upon his Cambridge training in his at- tempts to ensure the reliability of ethnographic information. As we have seen, he mastered Chinook quickly so that he could communicate directly with Nuxalk elders. He also interviewed as many knowledgeable Nuxalk as would speak to him. More people could remember more things, thus filling in gaps and clearing up ambiguities. By learning the life histories of individuals and by checking their stories against those told by other reliable infor- mants, McIlwraith also felt he could winnow out accurate informa- tion from the idiosyncrasies of personality and memory. The Cambridge professors stressed the need for rapport be- tween the fieldworker and his informants. McIlwraith was very sensitive about his relationships, worried when there was tension and delighted by moments of friendship. He intervened on behalf of Nuxalk friends before the missionary and the Indian Agent and he begged off collecting artefacts for the Museum in case this soured his relationship with the Indians. Maintaining good rela- tions was not always easy, and McIlwraith sometimes chafed at what he had to do. Although exhausted by the rigours of the winter ceremonials, for instance, he felt "there is no help for it; I have an official name and position in the community, and it would be disastrous should I stay away."39 McIlwraith's immediate concern was to keep the information coming in. But his letters also make it abundantly clear that he developed a profound respect for the Nuxalk and their culture, a respect that few of them had experi- enced before from whites. And this was reciprocated (vol. I, p. xlii). The elders most obviously reciprocated by entrusting their stories and memories to McIlwraith. Names, dances, ancestral lands, and the myths within which they were embedded distin- guished the different ancestral families within the Nuxalk com- munity. The elders carefully guarded their knowledge of this heritage and it took McIlwraith's best diplomatic skills to gain access to these secrets and to guard against fears that he would reveal them to others. "One informant gives me a story which he claims is his own, and then frequently I get the same story from

39TFM to Smith, 7 Jan. 1924, SMU. xxiv INTRODUCTION someone else. If I confessed that I had heard it before there would be trouble on the ground that I did not keep secret what was told to me, and nearly everyone in the village would refuse to talk."40 Several of the Indians were drawn into the research process: "Animated by the desire to help, they used every expedient in the way of parallel and synonym to explain obscure terms" (vol. I, p. xliii). McIlwraith's "informants" became his teachers, and this enriched his experience and understanding. If The Bella Coola Indians is more than a compendium of ethnographic facts, it is because of the conversation that sprang up between McIlwraith and his Nuxalk teachers. McIlwraith became a participant in Nuxalk memory culture. This stands in striking contrast to Boas's experience and understanding. The latter's "The Mythology of the Bella Coola Indians" (1898) was based upon stories recorded from a single (unnamed) individual over a ten-day period (Maud 1982). Although aware that families owned different myths, Boas asserted that the Nuxalk conceived of the universe in five layers, each inhabited by different deities. After considerable inquiry, McIlwraith traced this cosmology to two families and concluded that it "cannot be described as Bella Coola belief (vol. I, p. 25). Relatively lengthy and intimate research thus enabled McIlwraith to gain a much more nuanced understanding of the complexities of Nuxalk culture than was possible through survey ethnography.

NOT SUITABLE FOR A TWELVE-YEAR-OLD SCHOOL-GIRL: CENSORSHIP AT THE NATIONAL MUSEUM

In the fall of 1924, McIlwraith accepted an invitation to take up a research fellowship in the Institute of Psychology at Yale Univer- sity. The following year, he became a lecturer in anthropology at the University of Toronto and keeper of the ethnological collec- tions at the Royal Ontario Museum of Archaeology. McIlwraith went on to found the first anthropology department at a Canadian

40TFM to Sapir, 27 May 1922, MMU. INTRODUCTION xxv university. He died in Toronto in 1964, just before he was to retire (Barker 1987). Pressed by his new duties, McIlwraith took more than three years to complete his report on the Nuxalk. He had a free hand in composing the massive manuscript, which eventually ran to more than 1,800 typed pages. Sapir intervened on only two matters. He provided McIlwraith with a set of diacritical symbols for Nuxalk phonetics and he urged him to translate into Latin any passages on sexual matters or bodily functions.41 Sapir had reason to be cautious. Ten years earlier, members of the Canadian parliament happened upon copies of W.H. Mechling's Malecite Tales. This Museum report contained sexual references (such as the "Talking Vagina") and the shocked MPS ordered all copies to be burned (McFeat 1976:166). Sapir rou- tinely restricted any anthropological publications that might cause offence to a limited mailing list of anthropologists and scientific institutions. He also "adopted the policy of translating all passages that could by any stretch of the imagination be considered as objectionable into Latin."42 When Diamond Jenness became Chief of the Anthropology Division after Sapir retired in 1925, he continued this policy, warning McIlwraith that even words like "bitch" (i.e., a female dog) might cause offence. His concern was justified. In March 1927, the Supervisor of Government Publications rejected the first chapters of the Bella Coola report, declaring "that Latin was no better than English, and [he] would admit neither."43 Jenness suggested that McIlwraith replace questionable passages with dots; when McIlwraith protested, Jenness offered to help edit the manuscript, cutting whenever possible and suggesting that McIlwraith, "where it appears absolutely essential, retain Latin." He would pass the edited version to William Collins, the Director

41TFM to Jenness, 5 Feb. 1927, MMU. Gilbert Norwood, a classicist at the Univer- sity of Toronto, translated longer passages for McIlwraith. 42Sapir to R.G. McConnell, 18 Nov. 1916, ESMU. 43Jenness to TFM, 3 March 1927, MMU. xxvi INTRODUCTION of the National Museum,44 allowing him to "fight it out with the Printing Bureau if he will."45 Jenness spent a year editing McIlwraith's manuscript - clarifying his prose, suggesting pas- sages to be removed or Latinized, and urging him to eliminate "secondary" versions of myths. He passed the final section of the manuscript to Collins early in 1928. Collins decided the manuscript was not acceptable and notified his superiors. In January 1929, the Deputy Minister of the Depart- ment of Mines, Dr. Charles Camsell, called Jenness and other Museum officials to his office and laid down the law concerning anthropological reports. "The Deputy announced very emphati- cally that if the department published any report that aroused criticisms of this nature all anthropological publications might thereafter be banned. It made no difference what the New York or any other institutions issued; the Canadian government could publish nothing which might offend a 12-year-old school-girl."46 The Deputy further implied that the next step might be the elimination of the Anthropology Division itself.47 Jenness pro- tested that McIlwraith had written "the finest report ever pre- sented on an Indian tribe in either the United States or Canada"; it was too valuable an anthropological study to lose to another institution (Anonymous 1929). He offered to revise it again. McIlwraith vigorously protested this latest assault on his report and refused to cooperate. Jenness eventually arranged a confer- ence between himself, Collins, the editor of publications, and McIlwraith in Ottawa at which he successfully brokered an agree- ment that satisfied all the parties. By the beginning of November 1930, the first volume of the manuscript had been sent to the government printer.48 Hit by the Depression, the Museum cancelled the report.

44The renamed Victoria Memorial Museum. 45Jenness to TFM, 21 March 1927, MMU. 46Jenness to TFM, 30 Jan. 1929, MMU. 47Following this meeting, Jenness found himself "severely censured by my depart- ment, and all reports since submitted from my Division have been viewed with suspicion" (Jenness to TFM, 14 Nov. 1929, MMU). 48TFM to Jenness, 4 Nov. 1930, MMU. INTRODUCTION xxvii

Jenness forwarded the first five chapters to Franz Boas.49 Two and a half years later, Boas returned the manuscript, complaining that it was "very diffuse and might be considerably condensed" and that "so far I have not found any way of publishing it."50 The manuscript was now in abysmal condition: "Not only is the MS. patched and pasted together, but the paper has dried out so much that it almost breaks away in the handling." The Museum's editor ordered that the manuscript be restored to its "original" condition, but noted that the "discards" from chapters 4 to 10 had been lost. He suggested that the report be retyped, but this was almost certainly not done.51 Matters stood here until the early 1940S when the Canadian Social Science Research Council (of which McIlwraith was a founding member) offered the University of Toronto Press a subvention to publish the report. McIlwraith requested the return of his manuscript from Ottawa and began the laborious task of restoring the original text. I was told by Margaret Thomson Tushingham, who assisted in this task, that The Bella Coola Indians had to be reconstructed from the fragments of several older versions, portions of which were scribbled on old cigarette boxes. The original English versions of several of the Latinized passages had been lost and had to be back-translated from the Latin. McIlwraith surely must have thought the manuscript cursed when, on the verge of publication, disaster struck again: "It was wartime and the Press was short-handed and short-supplied. Instead of keeping in galley, they had to print in page-proof to save space; some idiot walked on these and dozens of phonetic sym- bols, laboriously checked, fell off and had to be rechecked and reset. The tale at the Press is that a man resigned and another went out of his mind" (McIlwraith n.d.). It is a miracle The Bella Coola Indians ever reached the public. In the Preface, McIlwraith states that the manuscript "is presented

49Jenness to Boas, 16 May 1931, JMU. 50Boas to Jenness, 11 Dec. 1933, JMU. 51Jenness to TFM, 27 March 1936, MMU. xxviii INTRODUCTION as it was written in 1924-26" (vol. I, p. xl - that is, before he and Jenness edited it. This seems equally miraculous. Establishing if and how the report changed, however, will have to await an extensive review of the surviving manuscripts, now held in the University Archives at the University of Toronto.

ETHNOGRAPHY AS COLLABORATION

James Clifford (1986:17) reminds us that the authored book is a convention of Western literature. The convention ignores what "acknowledgments" sections highlight: that most books emerge through a process of active collaboration. The earlier sections of this introduction have explored the types of collaboration that produced the materials for The Bella Coola Indians. In this section, I wish to examine some of the ways that collaboration is reflected in the book itself. The Bella Coola Indians contains a variety of presentations. In some sections, the anthropologist's voice dominates the text; in other sections, the anthropologist orchestrates an abundance of Nuxalk stories and anecdotes to make his points; and, in still others, Nuxalk songs, stories, myths, and other materials speak for themselves. To borrow Mikhail Bakhtin's useful term, The Bella Coola Indians is a polyphonic text (cited in Clifford 1986:15). It speaks with a diversity of voices. This is not to deny that the anthropologist bears the primary responsibility for the order and arguments of the book. But clearly, different sections have been subject to differing degrees of rewriting and this in turn allows Nuxalk voices to emerge in somewhat different ways. McIlwraith provides a focal argument for the book. He observes that Nuxalk religion, society, economics, and politics were tightly interwoven and that this fact, in turn, "renders a logical descrip- tion of [their] customs difficult" (vol. I, p. 117). The events and entitites described in myths, however, provided the basis for both social organization and ceremonialism.

As a group, the Bella Coola are philosophers. They demand a reason for INTRODUCTION xxix

everything, though once a reason has been given, and accepted, they think no more about the matter. The elaboration of Bella Coola mythology may be due in part to their desire to explain their social organization; but without question these myths, now accepted as facts, have had a great influence on the lives of the people. In fact the social structure of the tribe has tended to conform to the myths, (vol. I, p. 118)

Founding myths formed charters for the basic political and cer- emonial units in the society, the ancestral families, which them- selves corresponded to autonomous villages. While individuals could claim membership in different ancestral families, the Nuxalk believed that the families themselves, and the properties that defined them - names, stories, totem designs, and lands - had been established at the beginning of time and remained inviolate. People thus actively defined themselves and their relationships through permanent mythic categories. The potlatch was the primary occasion for validating one's social position. "At such a ceremony the family history, or family myth, was recounted, so that the donor of a potlatch not only increased his own prestige, he incorporated therewith the traditions of his parent" (vol. I, p. 183). Those who gave the largest potlatches were recognized as chiefs. The dramatic dances and songs of the two societies also found their origins in myth.52 Ancestral families inherited the valued sisaok ceremonies, while membership within the kusiut society was open to most mature adults. These performances enacted the myths: they made them real and tangible parts of the living society (vol. II, p. 7). In these opening chapters, then, we see the under- lying mytho-logic of Nuxalk culture - the logic that provides the basic dynamic of the culture. It is possible that this picture of an integrated society was a product of the process of salvage anthropology itself: that McIlwraith and his teachers systematized surviving stories and memories. Yet even in 1922, McIlwraith was impressed by the

52McIlwraith suggested that the Nuxalk once had a third society, the alkw. This seems to be a mistranslation of the Nuxalk word for ceremonial messenger (see Kennedy and Bouchard 1990:334-5). xxx INTRODUCTION powerful spirituality of the Nuxalk people and the degree to which it permeated their lives. This forms perhaps the key theme of the book as a whole. It is, we should note, a very general theme, one that allows the organization of ethnographic material in a variety of ways. For the most part, McIlwraith organizes materials encyclopaedically into categories and subcategories, rather along the lines of Notes and Queries on Anthropology. At best loosely integrated, the chapters on "Features Associated with the Pot- latch," "Birth, Adolescence, Marriage," and "Medicine, Magic, Taboo" seem designed to exhaust the materials collected in the field on these topics. This organization, therefore, is a typological grid imposed upon Nuxalk culture. It does not derive from that culture itself. All the same, this type of organization does allow McIlwraith to present portions of his fieldnotes with minimal editing. In many places, the voices of the anthropologist and informant merge. This is especially noticeable in the long descriptions of the winter ceremonial dances, which appear to be summaries of informant testimonies. (One marvels at the level of detail Nuxalk elders could recall about dances that in some cases had not been per- formed in decades.) At the other extreme, McIlwraith peppers the narrative with texts in the voices of the Nuxalk elders. Chapter 2 on religion, for instance, contains twenty distinct stories and anecdotes illustrating certain religious attitudes or knowledge of particular deities. Chapter 9 on relations with the supernatural also contains a rich collection of anecdotal texts. Finally, McIlwraith occasionally interjects his own observations and experiences. Several chapters present a medley of observations, anecdotes, medical formulae, personal experiences, and narratives linked loosely together by McIlwraith's own generalizations and conclu- sions. In this kind of presentation, culture appears more as an accretion of elements than as an integrated whole. Looked at more closely, however, what we actually have are a wide assortment of clues as to what various facets of Nuxalk life must have been in the "time before." Like the clues in a mystery novel, this evidence varies in quality from detailed renditions of personal experience INTRODUCTION xxxi

to fragments of circumstantial evidence. Much of it can be inter- preted in different ways. Much of it also subtly subverts the larger project of salvage ethnography by referring explicitly to particular people and particular decisions and by acknowledging historical changes. Thus McIlwraith frequently introduces bits of evidence with phrases like "even today" or "when X was a child" or "when X worked for the Hudson's Bay Company." This opens up a large part of The Bella Coola Indians to two kinds of readings. It can be read, as McIlwraith intended, as a comprehensive survey of Nuxalk cultural ideas and activities. And it can be read as an archives assembled in the early 1920S of Nuxalk elders' personal memories, of stories told in the community about the spiritual world and warfare, and of the anthropologist's observations of continuing traditional practices and ideas in the community. Five chapters, making up more than one-quarter of the work, are collections of myths, stories, songs, and histories presented with a minimum of comment.53 These narratives can be read for enjoyment and they also form an important corpus for comparison with other northwest coast peoples. It is important to note that the ancestral myths and the songs were at the time McIlwraith tran- scribed them, and continue to be, the cultural property of Nuxalk families. These chapters, in this sense, form a treasury of Nuxalk heritage. The Bella Coola Indians is thus a very diverse work. It is, in its overall aims, a functionalist study of Nuxalk: Nuxalk culture forms a whole integrated through its myths. The study is also an encyclopaedia of Nuxalk culture, arranged according to such categories as religion, society, politics, medicine, pastimes, and psychology. It is as well an archives of historical documents collected in the early 1920S which reveals aspects of the commu- nity of that day and earlier. And, finally, the work provides a repository for many of the most precious and fragile materials of Nuxalk heritage.

53Of course, were one to include the transcribed narratives within other chapters, this fraction would be much higher. xxxii INTRODUCTION

Given its length and discursiveness, The Bella Coola Indians is not a work that many will read from beginning to end. Its consid- erable value is as a resource. It has been a key resource to students of Nuxalk culture, who have repeatedly commended McIlwraith for his thoroughness and accuracy. McIlwraith also intended it to be a resource in the classroom. Here we must note again the unusually full and subtle accounts of social organization, rank, the life cycle, and the secret societies. Although McIlwraith himself avoided comparative remarks wherever possible, the book is also obviously invaluable for the comparative understanding of cul- tural institutions throughout the region (again, the secret societies come especially to mind). The Bella Coola Indians also forms a resource for the study of the development of ethnographic field- work in Canada and the establishment of professional anthropol- ogy (Barker 1987; McIlwraith 1987). Finally, the work is a crucial resource for the cultural survival of the Nuxalk people.

NUXALK TRADITIONS TODAY

During the summer of 1922, Wilfred Christensen, then twelve, watched as a small mountain of wooden crates on the Bella Coola wharf was loaded on to a boat at the beginning of a journey to Ottawa.54 They were filled with Nuxalk artefacts collected by Harlan I. Smith. The prize acquisition was a group of carvings that had adorned the housefronts in the old village. The dismantling of the old houses tangibly signalled the de- mise of the Nuxalk culture. McIlwraith did not doubt that he was witnessing the death throes of the Nuxalk and other First Nations cultures. "Though the individual may suffer," he wrote, "civiliza- tion must press onward and the life of the Indian will soon disappear... A tithe of the people may survive, but their culture, the growth of generations, will have been swept away" (vol. I, p. xlvi). But cultures are not merely assemblages of wood carvings,

54Personal communication. INTRODUCTION xxxiii narratives, rituals, or social customs. A people actively create their culture by drawing upon the wisdom and traditions of the past to anchor their identity and applying this orientation to address the challenges of the present. The notion of "traditional" cultures as unchanging, tightly integrated wholes is misleading. This is not to deny or condone the horrific loss of life and of cultural knowledge that resulted from white encroachment upon the Nuxalk. But it is to acknowledge that under the most difficult of circumstances, Nuxalk have struggled to retain and build upon their traditions. The creative energies of Nuxalk culture were apparent during McIlwraith's time. Rather than seeing Christianity as an alterna- tive, elders like Moody understood its teachings as confirming and extending received notions of supernatural immanence. McIlwraith notes many other examples of adaptation and innovation. In 1923, the Nuxalk performed a Christmas pageant before the white community that combined Native and European elements. McIlwraith also observed the myriad of small ways Nuxalk defied or subverted the figures of white authority, the missionary and Indian agent, and thus maintained some autonomy and dignity. What McIlwraith could not know was that the younger genera- tion would maintain a commitment to their elders and to Nuxalk traditions. This seemed unlikely in 1922. In his efforts to recruit informants and interpreters, McIlwraith discovered an antipathy between the elders and the young and thus supposed that what remained of Nuxalk culture would soon be irretrievably lost. The circumstances were certainly difficult. Several present-day Nuxalk elders told me of how they had become alienated from their culture during the long years away at mission-run residential schools, where they were not allowed to converse in their own language. Many then moved away from the community. But later in life, they returned, struggling as adults to relearn Nuxalk and to pass on the stories, titles, and other prerogatives of their own ancestral families. This solid core of Nuxalk cultural resilience flowered into new activities as the political climate for First Nations peoples gradu- ally improved in recent decades. In the early 1960S, the United xxxiv INTRODUCTION

Church Women's Guild began to perform the old songs. This renewed interest in carving masks, making dancing blankets, and other traditional arts. Through the 1970S, Nuxalk dance troops and singers performed both in Bella Coola and around British Columbia. Around the same time, scholars renewed the study of Nuxalk language, ceremonialism, and subsistence (see Kennedy and Bouchard 1990). In 1985, the University of British Columbia awarded an honorary doctorate to Margaret Siwallace, thus recog- nizing for the first time the primary role of First Nations elders as the historians of their people's traditions. The Nuxalk cultural revival has continued and strengthened up to the present. The community now has its own school, in which Nuxalk architectural forms and representations of the cosmos proudly announce the heritage of the people. Elders' portraits line the hallways. Students now learn the Nuxalk language and per- form the old songs and dances as part of their regular education. No longer ashamed of their heritage, younger men and women are exploring the old Nuxalk artistic styles and applying them to wood, paper, canvas, and silver. The recently formed Nuxalk Heritage Association is reclaiming the ethnographic and historical study of Nuxalk traditions for its own people. As in McIlwraith's day, Bella Coola is still dependent upon resource extraction for its economic well-being. Economic times are often hard, with all of the attendant social problems. Still, the Nuxalk are finding a new strength in their ancient traditions. They are confidently demand- ing justice from the federal and provincial governments for the lands that were taken from them. And they are looking to the wisdom of the elders to heal the many wounds of two hundred years of often brutal domination. Nuxalk culture gained national recognition recently when the Nuxalk artisans re-created the old Clelemin house, which Smith had stripped in 1922, in the Great Hall of the Canadian Museum of Civilization in Ottawa. When The Bella Coola Indians went on sale at the Kopas Store in Bella Coola in the early 1950S, Nuxalk families purchased at least thirty copies. The few that have survived have been carefully guarded, including one set kept under lock and key at the Nuxalk INTRODUCTION xxxv

Band offices. The cultural coordinators and teachers of the have regularly used the work as a resource in their efforts to teach the old songs and dances to new generations of children. A much-handled photocopy of the two volumes now forms a key component of the cultural program at the Nuxalk school. McIlwraith never returned to Bella Coola after 1924 and there is no evidence that he kept in touch with anyone there. He probably did not know about the importance of his study to the Nuxalk. His letters and published writings, however, leave no doubt that he would have been delighted to know that his book figured centrally in the cultural revival. The Nuxalk community recognized McIlwraith's intellectual integrity and respect for Nuxalk traditions and people on 11 October 1991 when they honoured his children, Professors Mary Brian and Thomas McIlwraith and Mrs. Peggy Matheson, during a potlatch. Thomas received his father's Nuxalk name, Weena, and enthusiastically participated in several dances, bringing back memories of his father's initiation into the community almost seventy years ear- lier. The Bella Coola Indians ends with a lament to a dying culture; yet it has become one of the seeds for a cultural revival that shows no signs of diminishing. Scholars and students of northwest coast cultures will welcome its reissue by the University of Toronto Press, which is long overdue. But its republication is especially significant to the Nuxalk people, the owners of the stories, dances, and songs that appear in its pages. While this book allows outsiders an unusually rich glimpse of a fascinating northwest coast culture, for the Nuxalk it is a priceless repository of traditions and family histories. Reading its dances, songs, and stories, one can hear the voices of the ancestors as they speak to a respectful anthropologist, and, beyond him, to present and future generations of Nuxalk children.

REFERENCES

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Anthropological Reports. Diamond Jenness papers, Canadian Ethnology Service, Canadian Museum of Civilization, Ottawa Barker, John. 1987. T.F. McIlwraith and Anthropology at the University of Toronto 1925-63. Canadian Review of Sociology and Anthropology 24:252-68 Boas, Franz. 1898. The Mythology of the Bella Coola Indians. Memoirs of the American Museum of Natural History 2:25-127 Boyd, Robert T. 1990. Demographic History, 1774-1874. In Wayne Suttles, ed., Handbook of North American Indians, vol. 7: Northwest Coast, pp. 135-48. Washing- ton, DC: Smithsonian Institution British Association for the Advancement of Science. 1912. Notes and Queries on Anthropology. 4th ed. London: BAAS Clifford, James. 1986. Introduction: Partial Truths. In James Clifford and George E. Marcus, eds., Writing Culture: The Poetics and Politics of Ethnography, pp. 1-26. Berkeley: University of California Press Cole, Douglas. 1973. The Origins of Canadian Anthropology, 1850-1910. Journal of Canadian Studies 8:33-45 - 1982. Franz Boas and the Bella Coola in Berlin. Northwest Anthropological Research Notes 16:115-24 - 1985. Captured Heritage: The Scramble for Northwest Coast Artifacts. Seattle: Univer- sity of Washington Press Duff, Wilson. 1964. The Indian History of British Columbia, vol. 1: The Impact of the White Man. Anthropology in British Columbia Memoirs 5. Victoria: Provincial Museum ESMU. Edward Sapir Papers, Canadian Ethnology Service, Canadian Museum of Civilization, Ottawa Fisher, Robin. 1977. Contact and Conflict: Indian-European Relations in British Colum- bia, 1774-1890. Vancouver: University of British Columbia Press Gruber, Jacob W. 1970. Ethnographic Salvage and the Shaping of Anthropology. American Anthropologist 72:1289-99 HCL. A.C. Haddon Papers, University Library, Cambridge University JMU. Diamond Jenness Papers, Canadian Ethnology Service, Canadian Museum of Civilization, Ottawa Kennedy, Dorothy I.D., and Randall T. Bouchard. 1990. Bella Coola. In Wayne Suttles, ed., Handbook of North American Indians, vol. 7: Northwest Coast, pp. 323-39. Washington, DC: Smithsonian Institution Kolstee, Anton F. 1977. Bella Coola Indian Music: A Study of the Interaction between Northwest Coast Indian Musical Structures and Their Functional Context. PhD dissertation, University of British Columbia Kopas, Cliff. 1970. Bella Coola. Vancouver: Mitchell Press LaViolette, Forrest E. 1961. The Struggle for Survival: Indian Cultures and the Protestant Ethic in British Columbia. Toronto: University of Toronto Press INTRODUCTION xxxvii

Maud, Ralph. 1982. A Guide to B.C. Indian Myth and Legend: A Short History of Myth- collecting and a Survey of Published Texts. Vancouver: Talon Books McFeat, Tom. 1976. The National Museum and Canadian Anthropology. In Jim Freedman, ed., The History of Canadian Anthropology. Canadian Ethnology Society, Proceedings No. 3 McIlwraith, T.F. 1948. The Bella Coo/a Indians. Toronto: University of Toronto Press - 1987 [1924]. At Home with the Bella Coola Indians. EC Studies 75:43-60 MF. T.F. McIlwraith Family Correspondence, privately held MMU. T.F. McIlwraith Papers, Canadian Ethnology Service, Canadian Museum of Civilization, Ottawa Pierce, William H. 1933. From Potlatch to Pulpit, Being the Autobiography of the Rev. William Henry Pierce. J.P. Hicks, ed. Vancouver: The Vancouver Bindery Sanjek, Roger. 1990. The Secret Life of Fieldnotes. In Roger Sanjek, ed., Fieldnotes: The Makings of Anthropology, pp. 187-270. Ithaca: Cornell University Press Sapir, Edward. 1911. An Anthropological Survey of Canada. Science, ns, 34: 789-93 SMU. Harlan I. Smith Papers, Canadian Ethnology Service, Canadian Museum of Civilization, Ottawa Stocking, George W., Jr. 1983. The Ethnographer's Magic: Fieldwork in British Anthropology from Tylor to Malinowski. In G.W. Stocking, ed., Observers Observed: Essays on Ethnographic Fieldwork, pp. 70-120. History of Anthropology, vol. l. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press Suttles, Wayne, and Aldona Jonaitis. 1990. History of Research in Ethnology. In Wayne Suttles, ed., Handbook of North American Indians, vol. 7: Northwest Coast, pp. 73-87. Washington, DC: Smithsonian Institution Urry, James. 1972. "Notes and Queries on Anthropology" and the Development of Field Methods in British Anthropology, 1870-1920. Proceedings of the Royal Anthropological Institute, 45-57 This page intentionally left blank