108 THE BIG CANOE
howled and shrieked over the headland. So it sounded

to the attackers, though there was no wind. They were
about to flee when Kagan changed his music. The
wind died away. The birds began to call their morn-
ing greetings. The men on the beach stood spellbound,
listening breathlessly. Then Kagan began to play a
song of his own upon the reeds; a song no Haida or
Tsimshian had ever heard before; a song that caused
the warriors to forget all else save the clear sweet
strains of the enchanting music.

Kagan’s people heard also as they ran through the
forest. They hesitated when they heard the high, clear
notes, only slightly muffled by the fog. Astounded,
frightened, they huddled together on the trail and lis-
tened.

“Do not be frightened,” commanded Quahl the
Carver, to whom all men listened. He saw that the
time had now come to tell the secret of the musical
reeds. “There is no magic, no witchcraft, in this
music. It is only Kagan the Lame One, playing upon
some reeds that belonged to my brother Kinna, long
ago. Many times have I heard both Kinna and Kagan
play upon them, and I have never been harmed.
Kagan can bring forth such music from those fragile
reeds that even Kinna would marvel at his skill, could
he but hear him play. There is no doubt that he is
playing to confuse the enemy; playing to hold them
there until our arrival. Shall such bravery be unre-