162 THE BIG CANOE

THEE remain long. He expected to hear at any moment the
Mi shouts of his pursuers; to hear his father’s voice
Tt commanding him to return. Very far from the village
must he be when darkness fell; not until then would
he be able to rest with any safety.

That evening, just as the sun was setting and the
white snow-fields high up on the ridges were the color
i of freshly killed salmon, Kadonah climbed over a
A high ridge and looked down into the valley, across the
gleaming tinted river, to the blue smoke spirals ris-
ing above the lodges of his father’s village.

In imagination he could smell the meat and fish
broiling over the flames; he could hear the boys and
girls playing in the street, the dogs snapping over
their scraps of food.

As he turned away with a heavy heart, he saw a
mountain-goat standing on a ledge across the gulch.
Quickly he took aim and loosed his arrow. A moment
later the body of the big goat hurtled down into the
bottom of the gulch, pierced by his arrow, which had
reached a vital spot.

At that Kadonah’s heart was lightened, for his
hunger was so great that he could think of nothing
else. Down into the rocky gorge he hastened, gath-
ered wood, and cut some meat from the body of the
goat with the knife he had been fortunate enough to
have with him. As soon as darkness fell he made a
fire beside a fallen tree trunk and hung thick steaks
to broil upon the flames, resting, while they cooked,