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THE IRON MEN

ONE evening many years ago, before the first white
men visited the islands of the Haidas, a boy lay on
the upper ledge of his father’s lodge and looked down
upon the other members of his family who were
gathered around the blazing logs on the gravel hearth
of the huge room below. Silent and sullen he lay
there, his head propped upon his hands as he watched
the sparks that rushed upward through the smoke
hole of the lodge, into the blackness of a rainy night.
Again and again, above the hubbub of laughter
and song and story-telling, he heard his name spoken,

and now and then he saw several of his relatives
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