silence
until the procession came back once more to the courtyard. Then one by
one they attached themselves to the line.

About the excavation under the windows of the White Chief the funeral
party halted. Kilbuck, his handsome, barbaric head towering above all,
spoke to the natives in Thlinget a few moments. Then one by one the
small boxes containing ashes of the dead were handed to him. He
lowered them into the grave. As the last one settled on the bottom he
stepped back, flinging one corner of his fringed blanket from his
shoulder. He exulted in the sense of power such an occasion gave him.
He liked to feel that in the hollow of his hand he held every soul in
Katleean.

Perhaps in his heart there still lurked some faint respect for the
dead. Perhaps he merely intended to impress the white women in his
audience, as from under the bizarre robe of his heathen office he
produced a prayer-book, and in the voice he knew so well how to
modulate, read the service for the dead. At the close he swept the
gathering with an inclusive glance. First in Thlinget, then in English
he addressed his listeners:

"People of the Kagwantans, of the Wuckitans, of the Yakutats, and the
Ganahadi,"--His voice made music of the Indians names.--"Listen to the
talk I make and remember. Always, while I am the White Chief and
Medicine Man of the Kagwantans, I will watch over the ashes of my brown
brothers and sisters. Always, when the nights of the Big Snows come to
Katleean and the spirit-lights whisper in the North in the moon of
Kokwa-ha, I, the Unseeable, will watch. . . . Always, in the moons of
the Big Salmon run, the Hat-dee-se, when there is no darkness in the
nights of the North, I, the Unseeable, will watch. . . . I, who have
brought you the great white medicine of the Letquan, the Snow People, I
make the Big Medicine now--I make it with the sacred book of the White
Shamans." He held one corner of his Chilcat blanket tightly against
his breast with the prayer-book, and with the other out at arm's
length, swept the fringes slowly back and forth over the grave. "I
make the Big Medicine. . . . My brothers and sisters may rest in peace
at Katleean, for no witch can dig down into the grave below to work
evil spells. . . . I, the White Chief, the Unseeable, I am always
watching."

The solemn old Indians of the tribe nodded their masked heads
approvingly and gave grunts of satisfaction. Kilbuck turned away as if
a bit wea