THE CEREMONIAL DRUM 185

whizzing through the air. Once inside, he leaned
against the wall of the lodge and trembled when he
thought of the long, long way down the village street
to the guest house, past all the totem poles, past the
huge burial chests where the Niskas might be
hiding!

He could not go! He could not! Yet if he did not
give the alarm, all the people in the village would
be killed or taken prisoner. If he could warn them,
they could escape and attack the enemy through the
great door which the Hudson’s Bay factor had made
for them, in the rear wall of the long room. Until
the arrival of the white men, the only entrance to
any Haida house had been through the opening in
the totem pole in front. Yulan sighed happily when
he thought of the big door. Without it, the Haidas
would have been caught this time like fish in a
trap!

Yulan rushed to his father’s chest. With trembling
fingers, he put on the shaman’s apron and shirt, an
old furred head-dress, several bone necklaces, and a
smal] Chilcat blanket which his father had not consid-
ered fine enough for the swansdown ceremony. When
he was certain he looked ridiculous, he tied a rabbit-
skin around the frisky little puppy, picked up the
small ceremonial drum which he had always longed
to own, and crawled hastily out through the entrance
hole.

Calling Slik to his side, he started down the street,