28 THE BIG CANOE

ermine, and a small pillow of sewed skins filled with
down. His mother’s own pillow. How like her that
was! Quahl was touched by the gift and thanked her
with his eyes, saying nothing, as Haida men say noth-
ing about such things. The canoe was his father’s fa-
vorite one, small and beautifully carved, with twin
sails of finely woven cedar matting. Quahl looked
questioningly at his mother.

“It is your father’s favorite canoe,” she admitted,
“but he would want you to have it. He would have
given it to you had you waited until morning. You
are the son of a great chief, and the nephew of a
great chief. It is only right that you should have the
best of everything. I have put into the canoe, also,
all the things your father would have put there, so
that for many days you will need nothing. The wind
is favorable for a trip to the northern islands and
surely somewhere among them you will be able to
find an animal no Haida has ever seen.”

“Without doubt,” Quahl agreed, his voice trem-
bling. Then, silently, he shoved the canoe off the
shingle, pushing it into deeper water with his paddle.
He was not quick enough, however, to prevent Kinna
from seizing the canoe firmly with both hands.

“Do not go away, Quahl!” he wailed. “Do not go
away and leave me!”

“He must go, my son,” Quahl’s mother said
quietly. “Your father, the chief, has ordered it. When
Quah] returns with the carving of an animal unknown