STORIES 467

his friends concealed themselves on the rafters, each with a vessel within
arm’s reach.

For a long time nothing happened; then was heard a sound as if some
wooden objects had been thrown carelessly to the foor. Soon a small fire
appeared. Presumably firewood had been dropped. Then the dead came
in, one or two at a time, as mortals do when assembling for a dance.
They took their places to “‘cure” the dead woman by a frenzied beating of
sticks as kukusiut do when a dancer returns from the upper regions and
must be called back to sanity. The leaders of the supernatural pounders
are Grizzly Bear, Smimig, Wolverine, and one other. When all were in
attendance, Wolverine smelt the hiding men.

“Take care,” he called out, “‘I smell mortals.”

His companions rushed out to investigate, but though they searched
around the house they failed to discover the men hiding above them.
Numerous pretty girls came in, decorated with cedar-bark, both dyed
and undyed, and eagle down, all ready for the dance. After the frenzied
beating of sticks, led by Wolverine, the dead woman began to dance while
the choir sang. The husband could contain himself no longer. As he
leapt down, his companions showered the whole house with the contents
of their vessels, but with a whistle the dead vanished, leaving only scat-

tered bones. The husband had failed.

THE BOYS WHO DRIFTED TO SEA

Long ago, when supernatural beings were so closely in contact with
mortals that extraordinary experiences were more common than at pre-
sent, a number of lads were bathing at As-dx, on the south side of North
Bentinck Arm, about half a mile from the head. As four of them lay
across a huge drifting log to dry themselves, they fell into a heavy sleep
so that they were not awakened when, at high tide, their float began to
drift away from the shore. It was near dusk before one of them awoke
to find that only the peaks of the mountains were in sight. He quickly
roused his companions, but they had no means of propelling the raft
towards the distant shore. For a long time they wept bitterly at their
fate, but at last one of them began to investigate and found some con-
solation in the fact that their log was hollow. The four crawled inside,
smoothed away the rough edges of wood as much as possible, curled up
together for warmth, and at last cried themselves to sleep.

In the early morning one of the boys awoke. Looking up through a
crack, he saw the daylight momentarily obscured by a bird waddling
across. Cautiously investigating, he found that a flock of white geese
(swans?) had settled on the log, where they were walking to and fro in