caught the light for a moment
before he buttoned the flap over it again.

Ellen, with a few stammered words, was backing away from him, her wide,
fearful gaze fixed on his face, when he reached out, and as if merely
to shake her hand in farewell, laid his iron fingers over hers in a
grasp that made her wince.

"Just a moment, my frigid little Lucretia." He spoke hurriedly: "I'm
letting you go now because the time is coming when you'll want me.
When you get aboard the schooner you'll find I have presented your son
with a pigeon. Take good care of it. It was hatched here--and it's
your only means of communicating with the mainland. And listen--" he
leaned down almost whispering the words--"When I want a squaw, I get
her. When I want a white woman, I get her. Remember the pigeon.
You'll want me. The pigeon, loose, comes back. I shall understand!"
He laughed, as if sharing with her the humor of some vile joke.

Ellen shrank back, her face flushing with outraged helplessness and
shame. She wrenched her hand free.

"All aboard! All aboard for Kon Klayu!" The cheery voice of her
husband rang out. She turned from the White Chief and ran.

The natives came forward in a crowd. Jean free-stepping, wind-ruffled,
met her halfway, and seizing her hand, the two hurried down to the
whale-boat. Friendly native hands shoved the boat off amid shouts of
good will and good-bye.

The rattle of the anchor-chain sounded as they boarded the _Hoonah_ and
made the tow-line of the whale-boat fast to the stern. The sails were
hoisted and a moment later the little craft listed slightly as she
caught the breeze. The entire population of Katleean waving farewell
followed along the beach past the Indian Village and down to the Point.

"Good-bye! Good luck!" shouted the few white men on the shore.

"_Tay-a-wah-cu-sha_! _Tay-a-wah-cu-sha_!" echoed the plaintive Indian
voices.

From the top of the cabin the Borelands waved back as the _Hoonah_
rounded the wooded point that shut out even the smoke from the
trading-post.

Sea-gulls white as the bellying sails, tilted against the wind in the
sunshine. A wedge of wild geese honked high on their way to southern
lands. Countless sea-parrots squattered away from the schooner's path,
dragging their fat, black bodies in splashing clumsiness across the
water. The wind freshened and the rigging strained and creaked as the
_Hoonah_ swung to the long, wrinkled swells of the open sea.