t of the
thirst that was upon me. But the sea was no longer angry, and the soft
south wind was blowing, and as I looked about me I saw a sight that
made me think I was indeed mad."

Nam-Bok paused to pick away a sliver of salmon lodged between his
teeth, and the men and women, with idle hands and heads craned
forward, waited.

"It was a canoe, a big canoe. If all the canoes I have ever seen were
made into one canoe, it would not be so large."

There were exclamations of doubt, and Koogah, whose years were many,
shook his head.

"If each bidarka were as a grain of sand," Nam-Bok defiantly
continued, "and if there were as many bidarkas as there be grains of
sand in this beach, still would they not make so big a canoe as this I
saw on the morning of the fourth day. It was a very big canoe, and
it was called a _schooner_. I saw this thing of wonder, this great
schooner, coming after me, and on it I saw men--"

"Hold, O Nam-Bok!" Opee-Kwan broke in. "What manner of men were
they?--big men?"

"Nay, mere men like you and me."

"Did the big canoe come fast?"

"Ay."

"The sides were tall, the men short." Opee-Kwan stated the premises
with conviction. "And did these men dip with long paddles?"

Nam-Bok grinned. "There were no paddles," he said.

Mouths remained open, and a long silence dropped down. Opee-Kwan
borrowed Koogah's pipe for a couple of contemplative sucks. One of the
younger women giggled nervously and drew upon herself angry eyes.

"There were no paddles?" Opee-Kwan asked softly, returning the pipe.

"The south wind was behind," Nam-Bok explained.

"But the wind-drift is slow."

"The schooner had wings--thus." He sketched a diagram of masts and
sails in the sand, and the men crowded around and studied it. The wind
was blowing briskly, and for more graphic elucidation he seized the
corners of his mother's shawl and spread them out till it bellied like
a sail. Bask-Wah-Wan scolded and struggled, but was blown down the
beach for a score of feet and left breathless and stranded in a heap
of driftwood. The men uttered sage grunts of comprehension, but Koogah
suddenly tossed back his hoary head.

"Ho! Ho!" he laughed. "A foolish thing, this big canoe! A most foolish
thing! The plaything of the wind! Wheresoever the wind goes, it goes
too. No man who journeys therein may name the landing beach, for
always he goes with the wind, and the wind goes everywhere, but no man
knows where."

"It is so," Opee-