30 THE BIG CANOE

mother’s hand move upward in response before he
sent the canoe skimming northward.

A few moments later he turned again and glanced
back. This time the cove was entirely hidden, but
rising from behind the headland he could see long
spirals of blue smoke curling upward above the tall
cedars—blue smoke drifting slowly above the lodges
of Quasset, his father’s village, which he was not to
see again for many moons.

The summer passed, the fall rains came, the snows
of winter melted, and the tribe departed for the Nass
food depot on the mainland as it always did every
spring; yet Quahl had not returned. Once again the
seasons rolled around the long cycle of a year; still
there was no sign of the chieftain’s son. The years
sped by, one by one, until five had passed without a
word from the absent one; and all but Kinna mourned
Quahl as lost. Kinna alone, of all the tribe, would not
give up hope. With the passing years he had grown
tall and strong and handsome, but he had never for-
gotten the kind-hearted elder brother.

“Quahl will come back,” Kinna insisted when the
wise ones shook their heads. “I know he will come