14 THE BIG CANOE

cued the hat, dripping wet, a little torn on the brim
where the sharp beak of the puffin bird had held it,
but not really hurt.

“Tt is a hat of good omen,” Kilsa said, placing it
carefully in the bottom of the canoe. “If I had not worn
it, it would not have blown off; and if it had not blown
off, the puffin bird would not have picked it up and we
should not have followed it and found the hidden
island. Truly, all of our good luck has happened be-
cause of that hat, Kahala. There must be magic in
if?

“Perhaps so,” Kahala replied. “It is certain that
it led us to the hidden island. Now let us land and
see if there are all the puffin beaks Shim told about.
If not, there are plenty of puffin birds we can kill.”

“No, no!” Kilsa protested, horrified. “We must
kill no puffin birds! Did not a puffin bird lead us to
this island? Evil would come of it were we to touch
one of them. There will be many puffin beaks upon the
rocks, I am sure. We shall be able to take home all
we can carry in the canoe.”

Kilsa was right. The volcanic island, warmed by
the heat within, was an ideal hatching-place for the
puffin birds. Here the big birds swarmed to mate and
hatch their eggs; here they raised their young and
evidently returned to die, for the rocks were strewn
with the bones of many birds. Lying here and there
among them, or still attached to the sun-bleached
skeletons, were the beautiful polished beaks so highly