THE CEREMONIAL DRUM 177

The canoes landed upon the beach and Yulan
watched the masked Haida dancers form in line and
lead the way, chanting and dancing, up to the long
guest house in the center of the village. Behind them
trooped the Niska warriors, the people of the village,
the children and dogs. Into the guest house the proces-
sion moved until only the dogs and slaves were left
outside.

Yulan did not leave his hiding-place even then,
when the last of the throng had departed. Instead he
lay quiet on the warm sand, his head on his arm, and
listened to the tum, tum, tumpety-tum of the drums in
the guest house. He could shut his eyes and see exactly
what was taking place there. He could see the Niska
warriors seated in a circle; could see the chiefs and
sub-chiefs seated behind them in order of their im-
portance; could see all the others crowding around
filling the guest house to the very walls. Within the
circle of Niskas moved the Haida dancers, wearing
their curiously trimmed robes, their strange high
head-dresses filled with swansdown which they shook
upon their visitors as they danced. This was the dance
of the sacred swansdown, the peace ceremony of the
Haidas.

Tum, tum, tumpety-tum! Yulan almost wept when
he thought of the wild crab-apples cooked in molasses
which would surely be served to the guests, and of
the big iron kettles full of good things which he
would not be able to taste. He sniffed eagerly and