elongated cavities in the gravel in which to lay their eggs.
Then Ha-houlth-thuk-amik declared that this the Tsomass River was 
the source from which the dead fish came which they had seen when 
paddling to Po-po-moh-ah. 
To Lup-se-kup-se they returned next day, and there they saw, among 
the women in the lodge, the girl who spoke to them, when they had 
landed on the river bank opposite Ok-sock-tis. Then 
Ha-houlth-thuk-amik, desiring to convey her home with him, took her 
aside and said, "If thou wilt come with me, say not a word, but 
unbeknown make haste and leave the house, and run across the point 
which forms the eastern bank where this the Tsomass river joins the 
inland sea, then hide thyself until we take thee in, as we are paddling 
home." 
The klootsmah did as she was told and as the young men passed she 
jumped within the canoe, and was away with them. That night they 
stayed at Chis-toh-nit not far from Coleman creek, so named because in 
later days a white man of that name took up some land and dwelt there 
some little while. 
Next morning the klootsmah said to Ha-houlth-thuk-amik, "I am 
Kla-kla-as-suks and I am now thy rightful wife and therefore I desire to 
make of thee a famous hunter of the whale, so come with me and climb 
the mountain called Kuk-a-ma-com-ulth where high above the timber 
line the green grass grows, and I will get for thee an Ow-yie medicine." 
They climbed the mountain and she secured for him the medicine so 
desired by all who hunt the whale, and early next morning, blown by a 
strong U-ah-tee wind they started for Po-mo-moh-ah and when they 
came to Klu-quilth-soh they found the gates wide open and passed 
safely through between the frowning cliffs, arriving home before the 
break of day. 
Then Ha-houlth-thuk-amik aroused his father who was still asleep, and 
bade him light a fire, and when the fire was lit he told him how they 
ventured up the unknown way, between high cliffs, where they had lost 
all sight and sound of Rainy Bay. He told of the Tsomass land, and the 
salmon stream which far eclipsed their own Po-po-moh-ah, and then 
described the great and wondrous house, where the klootsmuk dwelt, 
and how they sang to him "Yah-hin-in-ay." He told him also of 
Kla-kla-as-suks, the klootsmah who had left her home to be his rightful 
wife.
[Illustration: NEXT DAY E'RE MIDDAY CAME THEY HAD SET 
SAIL] 
Then Wick-in-in-ish sent for all the tribe, and when they were 
assembled in his lodge, he told to them the story of the Tsomass land. 
Among the braves was much talking; and after speeches from the lesser 
chiefs, it was decided that next day before the sun had cast his shadow 
north and south, with Yuk-stees wind, they would set sail for Tsomass 
land. 
That day in every house, in varied occupation, each family was busied. 
The cedar boards, which form the sides and roof of all their homes, 
were piled upon canoes. Atop of these were set their household goods, 
the mats of cedar bark, the wooden tubs in which they boiled their fish, 
the spears of flint, their hooks of bone, their fishing lines of kelp, and 
mattresses of water reeds. Large quantities of clams and mussels, also 
salmon cured by smoke they took with them, for Wick-in-in-ish 
planned to give a great potlatch to the strange tribe of Indian girls, from 
which his eldest son had chosen one to be his wife. 
Next morning long before the sun had reached the zenith they had set 
sail for Tsomass land. It truly must have been a sight to see that fleet of 
dark canoes, piled high with all the wealth of that great tribe, as with 
the sails of cedar bark filled with the Yuk-stees wind, they glided by 
the green or rocky shores which led them inland to the pleasant 
Tsomass land. Before the shadows of the night had spread among the 
gloomy conifers, the dark canoes had rounded Wak-a-nit, when, taking 
down their sails of cedar bark, they paddled silently close to the shore. 
When near Tin-nim-ah, where the Indians say they find good stone for 
sharpening arrow points, they rested on their paddles, and first heard 
the women singing in their cedar lodge. Then Wick-in-in-ish addressed 
his tribe. "My children we have sailed for many miles, and our little 
ones are hungry and weary. Let us sojourn near this old spruce." 
Thus they encamped near the conifer, and called the place 
Toha-a-muk-is after the spruce they were afraid to touch. Water they 
carried from near Kak-a-mak-kook, named from the alders growing 
round the stream. All through the night they heard the salmon splash to 
free themselves, so many Indians say, from    
    
		
	
	
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