52

THE BIG CANOE

After that, no matter what happened, I was always
happy—happy in the rain, happy in the fog which I
had not seen for so long, happy hunting in the forests
or fishing in the rivers, happy to leave behind that
cold, cold Northland where I knew I could never find
contentment in spite of the jolly people there who had
been so kind to me.

“Many were the days and nights that passed as I
traveled steadily southward,” Quahl’s story ended
“Many were the perils upon this homeward journey,
but of these I will tell you another time. To-night |
must sleep, for I am very tired. Yet I wish you to
know now that I bear no grudge against my accusers
who were the cause of this great adventure, and how
happy I am to bring you this little carving of the
Ancient One. Has any Haida here ever seen an animal
like it?”

“No!” roared the throng, leaping down from the
ledges and crowding around Quahl in their joy and
enthusiasm. Then spoke old Kowas, the shaman, who
had been foremost among Quahl’s accusers that
spring day so many years before. Like a just and
honest man he spoke, his voice shaken with emotion.
“Great shame fills my heart,” he declared gravely,