Se SR

58 THE BIG CANOE

“Tt is Kali Koustli himself!” moaned the frightened
people, who had never before seen one of the ships
of the white men. “His wings are spread over our
village. His breath will descend upon us and we shall
all perish!”

The drums of the medicine-men beat loudly, and
loudly rose the chants of the Haidas as they tried to
drive the dreaded evil spirit from before their village.
All night long the sound of drum and rattle, the
shrieks of the shamans, rang out across the waters of
the cove. The morning light, however, showed that
the magic of the medicine-men had done no good.
The dreaded spirit of the pestilence still rode upon
the waters of the cove.

All day the terror-stricken people remained inside
the lodge of the chief while the shamans tried to drive
the unwelcome visitor away. From dawn until dusk
no Haida appeared upon the streets of the village,
no canoe left the shore. In vain the captain of the
schooner waited for some sign from the chief. He
did not dare to send a landing party ashore for wood
and water and timber for a new spar until he made
sure of the friendliness of this powerful tribe which,
judging from the noise of chant and drum, seemed
to him to be preparing to attack the ship.

Weah, the chief’s son, did not share in this fear of
the strange visitor. No pestilence had visited the
village during his lifetime, and the thought of Kali
Koustli, the spirit of the pestilence, was not terrify-