THE PIPES OF VICTORY 103

clams on the long beaches behind the wooded head-
land. With him went his little sister, Dagal, who loved
Kagan dearly and was never happier than when she
was with him.

A heavy fog hung over the island as they made their
way through the forest, following the well-worn trail
to the beaches on the other side of the promontory.
This trail saved them a long, weary journey along
the rocky shore and made their trip to the clam beds
a short one.

As they trotted through the forest, Kagan was sud-
denly seized with a longing to play upon his magic
pipes and watch the astonishment of his small sister.

“She will promise not to tell about it,” he thought,
“and no one will ever know.” Indeed, it seemed as if
a voice were saying: “Get the magic reeds! Get the
magic reeds!” and he must obey. Not until later did
he know that Raven the Wise One had whispered in
his ear. As it was, he turned aside from the path and
took the small cedar box from its hiding-place.

He would not tell his eager little sister what was
in it.

“When we arrive at the beach I will show you,”
he promised, and Dagal, though impatient, was
obliged to wait.

When they arrived at the shore it was not yet full
daylight, and a dense fog hung over the cove, obscur-
ing everything. Water dripped from the trees, and far
out under the misty blanket the waves, at low tide,