THE CEREMONIAL DRUM 187

others, then stepped in front of the entrance to the
guest house. Yulan kept on drumming, kept on smil-
ing, kept on capering down the street, talking to Slik
who romped along beside him, trying to rid himself
of the hateful rabbit-skin.

As he approached the guest house, Yulan’s heart
beat so loud that he could not be sure the drum was
sounding at all. The Niska warriors must be watch-
ing; they must be wondering. They must be hiding
behind houses and memorial poles. Was he deceiv-
ing them or had they caught sight of him on the shore?
Each moment he expected to feel an arrow between
his shoulders. Yet he continued to smile and beat
- his drum.

Would the Niska slaves allow him to enter the
guest house? he wondered, as he drew near. Would
they dare to stop him in the presence of so many other
slaves, many of whom hated the Niskas and would
consider death preferable to slavery in a Niska vil-
lage? Yulan could see many old and trusted slaves
in that group in front of the guest house. Any one of
these would alarm the Haidas the moment treachery
was suspected. Old Gano, his father’s most faithful
slave, was watching him with a grin of delight. Gano
always laughed at his mischief. Gano would protect
him from the Niskas.

At last he stood in front of the waiting Niska slaves,
who stared at him uncertainly, some grinning, some
scowling.