104

THE BIG CANOE

went shlip, splash, shlip, splash upon the distant
shingle. Just before they left the forest and started
down the winding trail that led to the beach below, a
crane flew shrieking across the cove, his weird cry
sounding sharp and loud in the deep silence.

Kagan stopped instantly and held Dagal motionless
with his hand.

“Listen!” he whispered. “Something has frightened
the crane. Can you hear anything, Dagal?” But Dagal
shook her head. She could hear only the shlip, splash,
shlip, splash of the waves upon the distant clam beds.

Kagan and Dagal stood motionless. In them was
bred the caution of an island tribe that had been
raided by enemies many times through the years, and
they were quick to read all the signs of danger. As
they stood there, a gull passed overhead with a hoarse,
shrill cry.

“That is the sound the gulls make when they are
frightened,” Kagan whispered. “The gulls see every-
thing, know everything. There must be danger
abroad.” He pulled Dagal quickly and silently away
from the path to a place of concealment behind a
clump of salal and berry bushes on the edge of the
slope. Here both crouched and listened intently.

After a moment they heard a grating noise far out
at the edge of the shingle—the noise of a canoe care-
lessly allowed to grate upon the small stones beyond
the sandy beach. To Kagan’s keen ears the sound was
unmistakable.