5

THE SILVER BRACELET

Maapa, the chief’s daughter, lay upon the soft green
moss under the tall cedars and sobbed softly, so softly
that any one passing on the trail behind the screen
of tall ferns fifteen feet away could not have heard
her. .

The final festivities of the potlatch time were at
hand. Quasset was seething with excitement. The
tumult in the village was so great that the gulls soared
screaming overhead, afraid to land upon the beach.
With the cawing ravens, they circled endlessly over
the lodges and totem poles, and to their clamor now
and then were added the harsh wild cries of a
disturbed crane.

The new totem pole had already been carved and

painted, and many willing hands were pulling it
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