“‘It be good to fight, O Palitlum,’ said he.  Nay, O Hair-Face, for I was unknown as Palitlum in those days, being called Olo, the Ever-Hungry.  The drink was to come after.  ‘It be good to fight,’ spoke Ligoun, ’but it be foolish.  In the Boston Man Country, as I saw with mine eyes, they are not given to fighting one with another, and they be strong.  Wherefore, of their strength, they come against us of the Islands and Passes, and we are as camp smoke and sea mist before them.  Wherefore I say it be good to fight, most good, but it be likewise foolish.’

“And because of this, though first always of the fighting men, Ligoun’s voice was loudest, ever, for peace.  And when he was very old, being greatest of chiefs and richest of men, he gave a potlatch.  Never was there such a potlatch.  Five hundred canoes were lined against the river bank, and in each canoe there came not less than ten of men and women.  Eight tribes were there; from the first and oldest man to the last and youngest babe were they there.  And then there were men from far-distant tribes, great travellers and seekers who had heard of the potlatch of Ligoun.  And for the length of seven days they filled their bellies with his meat and drink.  Eight thousand blankets did he give to them, as I well know, for who but I kept the tally and apportioned according to degree and rank?  And in the end Ligoun was a poor man; but his name was on all men’s lips, and other chiefs gritted their teeth in envy that he should be so great.

“And so, because there was weight to his words, he counselled peace; and he journeyed to every potlatch and feast and tribal gathering that he might counsel peace.  And so it came that we journeyed together, Ligoun and I, to the great feast given by Niblack, who was chief over the river Indians of the Skoot, which is not far from the Stickeen.  This was in the last days, and Ligoun was very old and very close to death.  He coughed of cold weather and camp smoke, and often the red blood ran from out his mouth till we looked for him to die.

“‘Nay,’ he said once at such time; ’it were better that I should die when the blood leaps to the knife, and there is a clash of steel and smell of powder, and men crying aloud what of the cold iron and quick lead.’  So, it be plain, O Hair-Face, that his heart was yet strong for battle.

“It is very far from the Chilcat to the Skoot, and we were many days in the canoes.  And the while the men bent to the paddles, I sat at the feet of Ligoun and received the Law.  Of small need for me to say the Law, O Hair-Face, for it be known to me that in this thou art well skilled.  Yet do I speak of the Law of blood for blood, and rank for rank.  Also did Ligoun go deeper into the matter, saying:—­

“’But know this, O Olo, that there be little honor in the killing of a man less than thee.  Kill always the man who is greater, and thy honor shall be according to his greatness.  But if, of two men, thou killest the lesser, then is shame thine, for which the very squaws will lift their lips at thee.  As I say, peace be good; but remember, O Olo, if kill thou must, that thou killest by the Law.’