THE PRIZE BASKET 115

hugging him. “I will not cry if it makes you so un-
happy. Why should I cry? I shall soon go to that
house and see for myself what the others are seeing
now. I shall go when there are not so many people
there and I can look at all the wonderful things care-
fully, one by one. As for presents, I am a slave, and
slaves do not receive presents.”

All through that long afternoon Lana lay there upon
the roof and listened to the sounds that came from
the trading-post, trembling when the brass cannon on
the roof was fired, shaking the village. Mighty indeed
were the Yetz Haada! Only the Thunder God could
make a noise mightier than their terrible weapons.

In spite of her disappointment, the slave girl en-
joyed the long hours of peace and rest. It was pleasant
to lie and dream there in the sunshine. In imagina-
tion she could picture the big room of the trading-post
piled high with red blankets, shawls, tools, muskets,
iron kettles, shining tin dishes, beads, bracelets, rib-
bons, and many other things such as the Hudson’s
Bay traders had often brought to Quasset during the
past year and had displayed upon the beach or in the
guest lodge; things which were already possessed by
many of the Haida families.

Down below in the chief’s lodge were many of these
things, gifts to the chief from the Hudson’s Bay
traders. There were so many there, piled on the ledges,
hanging over the railings, that Lana wondered if the