THE CHILCAT BLANKET 247

Gone forever was Kali the haughty, capricious one,
the careless, irresponsible one. In her stead was Kali
the industrious one, determined to make a perfect
blanket, one with which no other blanket that had
ever left her father’s village could compare.

Carefully she gathered her materials, some of
which her people journeyed far to obtain: the long
thin strips of yellow cedar necessary for the warp, the
wool of mountain-goats, and the things needed for
the dyes—a certain rare lichen for the yellow, copper
for the greenish blue, and water from distant sulphur
springs which was boiled with hemlock or alder and
copper to produce the deep black that becomes dis-
colored only after many years. When the men had
provided all these, had prepared and seasoned the
cedar strips, had painted the designs upon the pat-
tern boards for the weavers, their share of the task
was done, and the weaving was left to the women.

Hour after hour Kali rolled the yarn for warp and
weft until she could make each strand firm and per-
fect, and exactly the size of the others. The pure wool
yarn she used for the weft of the blanket and wove
over and under the long heavier strands of warp that
hung down from the top of the loom. For the warp,
she twisted thin wet strips of cedar into slender
strands, which she wrapped with a covering of wool,
and rolled again. Day after day she practised on a
small loom until her weaving was as fine and firm
and even as that of her mother.