80 THE BIG CANOE

she could think of no way to aid him in his escape
from the lodge, he had pointed to the smoke hole
above.

“Bring me a rope,” he had whispered. “Let it down
through the smoke hole and I will climb up it.” Her
heart had instantly lightened, for the white slave could
climb up a rope as easily as her brother could climb
up a cedar tree. “That I will do,” she promised.
“When darkness comes, I will climb up on the roof
and let down a rope.”

It had not been difficult to secure a long stout rope,
for the cod lines of the Haidas, of twisted spruce and
cedar fibers, were often many fathoms long. She had
hidden it in the forest, and food also, as well as warm
furs and tools and weapons. The difficult part of her
promise, however, remained to be fulfilled.

Maada could look ahead into the evening and see
the happy people thronging the streets of the village
which would be lit by huge piles of burning drift-
wood. She could see them visiting from house to
house. She could hear the medicine-men at their last
ceremony inside the prison lodge. She could see the
curious children and slaves hanging around the place,
climbing upon the roof, peering down through the
cracks and smoke hole as they always did. The guard
would be alert; people would always be near. Maada
could not see how it would ever be possible to climb
up on the roof and let down the rope without being