320 
us for the possession of the scant cabin. 
These preliminaries, together with numerous 
trips» ashore and parleying with the in- 
quisitive villagers, readily took up the time 
until the sailing day. 
The evening previous, at near dusk, 
while entertaining on board a Fort Rupert 
caller, our attention was attracted to the 
swift approach of a huge dugout canoe 
manned by a crew of twenty swarthy 
paddlers. With the speed of a screw- 
propeller the craft noiselessly advanced to 
the village beach. There, without disem- 
barking, an Indian in the prow arose, and 
in a peculiarly sonorous voice drew the 
villagers from their houses, and in the 
strange melody of his native tongue 
harangued them respecting the death and 
MAGGIE, A KLOWICH BELLE 
She owes her good looks to her “‘ Hudson’s Bay 

ancestry. 
RECREATION 
approaching burial at Alert Bay, some fifty 
miles to the south, of a relative of one of 
the Fort Rupert Indians. His speech con- 
cluded, the headman, or chief, of the Fort 
Ruperts responded in a voice choked with 
emotion, and invited the visitors in to sup, 
which from the alacrity of the response 
must not have been altogether unexpected. 
The feast was an elaborate one, as Siwash 
feasts go, and they made a night of it, 
paddling away toward home at dawn. 
Our own departure came a few hours later, 
after the sun was well up in a cloudless sky. 
A fresh breeze off the shore gave us a fair 
wind for our objective, the mouth of 
Knight’s Inlet, some seventy-five miles to 
the southeast. Amid the ‘‘Ala-kaslas”’ 
(good-bys) of the natives we weighed 
anchor, and giving the Stars and 
Stripes to the breezes from the 
masthead, set sail,— 
‘‘And madly danced our hearts with joy, 
As fast we fleeted to the South; 
How fresh was every sight and sound 
On open main or winding shore! 
We knew the merry world was round, 
And we might sail for evermore.” 
The breeze lightened as we 
progressed, until shortly after 
noon, when we were becalmed 
against the tide and hence com- 
pelled to man the sweeps while 
rounding Malcolm Island. Once 
fairly out of the shelter of this 
island we again drew a stout, fair 
wind which carried us down 
Broughton Strait at a fast clip, 
though still stemming the tide. 
It was a wonderland of primeval 
nature we were sailing through, 
ereen isles and islets dotting the 
broad expanse of the strait. The 
west wind, already strong, fresh- 
ened as the day waned, stirring 
the green waters into rollicking 
waves that ran playfully with us 
- as we skimmed along, an occasion- 
al comber, less friendly inclined, 
now and again tossing us ex- 
hilaratingly. 
Once or twice when our course 
lay closes;inshore we saw deer 
feeding fearlessly near the water’s 
edge. Around us huge salmon, 
