For nothing fairer, fair,
And complete beyond compare,
O, lovely purple hills! O, first day of November,
Be sure that I remember.
He Saw Captain Cook
From "A Curious Interview" in The New Penelope, 1877
"You must be an old man, since these waters are named after you," suggested I. "Who was the first white man you remember seeing?"
"Hyas tyee, Cappen Cook. Big ship—big guns!" answered Nittinat, warming with the recollection.
"This is a good lead," remarked Charlie, sotto voce; "follow it up, Pierre."
"You were a child then? very little," making a movement with my hand to indicate a child's stature.
"Me a chief—many warriors—big chief. Ugh!" said the mummy, with kindling eyes.
At this barefaced story, Charlie made a grimace, while he commented in an undertone: "But it is ninety-six years since Captain Cook visited this coast. How the old humbug lies."
At this whispered imputation upon his honor, the old chief regarded us scornfully; though how such a parchment countenance could be made to express anything excited my wonder.
"Me no lie. Nittinat's heart big. Nittinat's heart good. Close tum-tum, ugh!
"White man's eyes are closed—his heart is darkened," said I, adopting what I considered to be a conciliatory style of speech. "My friend cannot understand how you could have known Captain Cook so long ago. All the white men who knew the great white chief have gone to their fathers."
"Ugh, all same as Cappen Cook. He no believe my cousin Wiccanish see big Spanish ship 'fore he came."
How did he make him see it at last?" asked Charlie, . . .
"Wiccanish showed Cook these," replied Nittinat, drawing from beneath his robe . . .
