the dead were placed among them. They were usually wrapped in skins, placed in the canoes, and hung from the boughs of trees six or eight feet from the ground. Thousands of these were seen.[84]
They hung in groups near the water side. One of them had a canoe inverted over the one containing the dead, and lashed tightly to it. We were often driven close to the shore by the heavy wind, and always noticed that these sepulchral canoes were perforated at the bottom. I was informed that this is always done for the twofold purpose of letting out the water which the rains may deposit in them, and of preventing their ever being used again by the living.
The 3rd was a boisterous day. The southerly winds drove in a heavy tide from the Pacific, and lashed the Columbia into foam; but by keeping under the windward shore, we made steady progress till sunset, when the increased expanse of the river indicated that we were about fifteen miles from the sea. The wind died away, and we pushed on rapidly; but the darkness was so great that we lost our course, and grounded upon a sand-bar three miles to the {271} north of Tongue Point.[85] After considerable trouble, we succeeded in getting off, steered to the northern shore, and in half an hour were again in deep water. But "the ship, the ship," was on every tongue. Was it above or below Tongue Point? If the
