THE IRON MEN 69

Before the conversation ended, dawn broke sud-
denly as it does upon the sea. The eastern sky paled,
then blazed with light; the stars disappeared. The
moon, still riding high, became but a silver disk in
the sky. As the sun rose in the gilded heavens, the
uproar in the village suddenly grew louder as all the
people, chanting wildly, moved down to the shore
and watched three long war canoes leave the beach
and head for the distant ship.

“Tt is my father!” Weah cried exultantly. “He is
coming, even as he said. How surprised he will be to
find me here!”

The wise old chief approached the vessel warily.
Several times he ordered the paddles dipped. Finally
all three canoes halted while the chief stood upright
in his own boat and talked long and earnestly to his
warriors. When it became apparent that not even his
threats or entreaties could persuade the frightened
Indians to approach nearer the ship, nearer the white
men whom they could see peering down upon them
from the deck, Weah leaned over the rail and shouted
lustily.

“Tt is I, Weah,” he called. “During the night I
came to look at this big canoe. Do not fear. It is not
the spirit of Kali Koustli. Upon it are men with white
faces, who came from the land where our sun hides
at night. They are very kind; they will not harm you.
There is also one here who can talk to you in the
Niska tongue. He will tell you many wonderful things.