f speech in me, and the limp I bore for
memory of the bear trap, for these and possibly other reasons, and
that a man must have a family to bear his sins, of the Raven was I
christened by Zachook, the Bear, and to the family of the Raven was
I joined.

Orator among his people though he was, Zachook was no spendthrift
of speech. But surly he never was; his silence was a pleasant
silence, a companionable interchange of unspoken thoughts. Nor did
he need words as I needed them, his eyes, his hands, his wordless
lips could convey whole volumes of meaning, with lights and shades
beyond the power that prisons thought. Not often did he speak at
length, even to me, unless, as it came to be, he was moved by some
hap or mishap of camp or trail to tell of the doings of that arch
rascal, Yaeethl, the raven, God, Bird, and Scamp. And when, sitting
over the fire, or with steering paddle in hand, he did open the
gates that lead to the land of legend, he seemed but to listen and
repeat the words of Kahn, the fire spirit, who stands between the
Northland and death, or of Klingat-on-ootke, God of the Waters,
whose words seemed to glisten on the dripping paddle.

So it was upon an evening in the time when we had come to be as
sons of the same mother, when we shared pack and blanket and grub
alike, and were known, each to the other, for the men we were. We
had finished our supper of salmon baked in the coals, crisply fried
young grouse and the omnipresent sourdough bread, and with the
content that comes of well filled stomachs were seated with the
fire between us, Zachook studying the glowing embers, I with that
friend of solitude, my pipe, murmuring peacefully in response to my
puffing.

As usual, I had been talking, and my words had run upon the trail
of the raven, whose hoarse call floated up to us from the river.
Idly I had spoken, and disparagingly, until Zachook half smilingly,
half earnestly quoted:

"He who fires in the air without aim may hit a friend."

And as I relapsed into silence added: "It is time, Kitchakahaech,
that you heard of the head of your family, this same Yaeethl, the
raven. Then will you have other words for him, though, when you
have heard, it will be for you to speak them as a friend speaks or
as an enemy. Of both has Yaeethl many."

I accepted the rebuke in silence, for Zachook's trail was longer
then mine by many years, and he had seen and done things which were
yet as thoughts with me.

For the tim