THE ANCIENT ONE at

ing the boy down upon the moss-covered log. “‘Rest
a moment, then tell me what has happened to upset
you so.”

“You are to be sent away from the tribe, Quahl!”
sputtered Kinna, unable to restrain his tears. “I was
on the roof, looking down through the smoke hole,
and I heard everything that happened in our father’s
lodge, where all the men in the village were assembled
in council. Our father told them that he would send
you away to find an animal no Haida has ever seen!
The others told him . . . they said . . .”

“What did they say?” asked Quahl, as Kinna
hesitated.

“They said, there in the council meeting, that you
showed none of the qualities which were to be looked
for in the son of a great chief and chieftainess; that
you sat carving, day in and day out, instead of show-
ing an interest in the welfare of the tribe; that you
would not fish for halibut or salmon or cod; that
you would not hunt for otter or seal or bear; that you
would not take part in the ceremonies of the secret
societies, in the games or in the dances. They said it
was shameful that you were not excited about the
raid that is being planned against our Niska enemies.

“All these things they said about you,” Kinna
went on, “and at the end, old Kowas, the shaman,
spoke bitterly against you, and said that you leaped
behind a tree when you came upon a mother bear and