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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Legends of Vancouver, by E. Pauline Johnson
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Legends of Vancouver
+
+Author: E. Pauline Johnson
+
+Release Date: June 24, 2004 [EBook #3478]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LEGENDS OF VANCOUVER ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Judy Boss and Andrew Sly
+
+
+
+
+LEGENDS OF VANCOUVER
+
+By E. Pauline Johnson
+(Tekahionwake)
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE
+
+
+I have been asked to write a preface to these Legends of Vancouver,
+which, in conjunction with the members of the Publication
+Sub-committee--Mrs. Lefevre, Mr. L. W. Makovski and Mr. R. W.
+Douglas--I have helped to put through the press.  But scarcely any
+prefatory remarks are necessary.  This book may well stand on its
+own merits.  Still, it may be permissible to record one's glad
+satisfaction that a poet has arisen to cast over the shoulders of
+our grey mountains, our trail-threaded forests, our tide-swept
+waters, and the streets and sky-scrapers of our hurrying city, a
+gracious mantle of romance.  Pauline Johnson has linked the vivid
+present with the immemorial past.  Vancouver takes on a new aspect
+as we view it through her eyes.  In the imaginative power that she
+has brought to these semi-historical sagas, and in the liquid flow
+of her rhythmical prose, she has shown herself to be a literary
+worker of whom we may well be proud: she has made a most estimable
+contribution to purely Canadian literature.
+
+                           BERNARD McEVOY
+
+
+
+
+AUTHOR'S FOREWORD
+
+
+These legends (with two or three exceptions) were told to me
+personally by my honored friend, the late Chief Joe Capilano, of
+Vancouver, whom I had the privilege of first meeting in London in
+1906, when he visited England and was received at Buckingham Palace
+by their Majesties King Edward VII and Queen Alexandra.
+
+To the fact that I was able to greet Chief Capilano in the Chinook
+tongue, while we were both many thousands of miles from home, I
+owe the friendship and the confidence which he so freely gave me
+when I came to reside on the Pacific coast.  These legends he
+told me from time to time, just as the mood possessed him, and he
+frequently remarked that they had never been revealed to any other
+English-speaking person save myself.
+
+     E. PAULINE JOHNSON (Tekahionwake)
+
+
+
+
+BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE
+
+
+E. Pauline Johnson (Tekahionwake) is the youngest child of a family
+of four born to the late G. H. M. Johnson (Onwanonsyshon), Head
+Chief of the Six Nations Indians, and his wife Emily S. Howells.
+The latter was of English parentage, her birthplace being Bristol,
+but the land of her adoption Canada.
+
+Chief Johnson was of the renowned Mohawk tribe, being a scion of
+one of the fifty noble families which composed the historical
+confederation founded by Hiawatha upwards of four hundred years ago,
+and known at that period as the Brotherhood of the Five Nations,
+but which was afterwards named the Iroquois by the early French
+missionaries and explorers.  For their loyalty to the British Crown
+they were granted the magnificent lands bordering the Grand River,
+in the County of Brant, Ontario, on which the tribes still live.
+
+It was upon this Reserve, on her father's estate, "Chiefswood," that
+Pauline Johnson was born.  The loyalty of her ancestors breathes in
+her prose, as well as in her poetic writings.
+
+Her education was neither extensive nor elaborate.  It embraced
+neither high school nor college.  A nursery governess for two years
+at home, three years at an Indian day school half a mile from her
+home, and two years in the Central School of the city of Brantford,
+was the extent of her educational training.  But, besides this, she
+acquired a wide general knowledge, having been through childhood and
+early girlhood a great reader, especially of poetry.  Before she was
+twelve years old she had read Scott, Longfellow, Byron, Shakespeare,
+and such books as Addison's "Spectator," Foster's Essays and Owen
+Meredith's writings.
+
+The first periodicals to accept her poems and place them before the
+public were "Gems of Poetry," a small magazine published in New
+York, and "The Week," established by the late Prof. Goldwin Smith,
+of Toronto, the New York "Independent" and Toronto "Saturday Night."
+Since then she has contributed to most of the high-grade magazines,
+both on this continent and England.
+
+Her writings having brought her into notice, the next step in Miss
+Johnson's career was her appearance on the public platform as a
+reciter of her own poems.  For this she had natural talent, and in
+the exercise of it she soon developed a marked ability, joined with
+a personal magnetism, that was destined to make her a favorite with
+audiences from the Atlantic to the Pacific.  Her friend, Mr. Frank
+Yeigh, of Toronto, provided for a series of recitals having that
+scope, with the object of enabling her to go to England to arrange
+for the publication of her poems.  Within two years this aim was
+accomplished, her book of poems, "The White Wampum," being published
+by John Lane, of the Bodley Head.  She took with her numerous
+letters of introduction, including one from the Governor-General,
+the Earl of Aberdeen, and she soon gained both social and literary
+standing.  Her book was received with much favor, both by reviewers
+and the public.  After giving many recitals in fashionable
+drawing-rooms, she returned to Canada, and made her first tour to
+the Pacific Coast, giving recitals at all the cities and towns en
+route.  Since then she has crossed the Rocky Mountains no fewer
+than nineteen times.
+
+Miss Johnson's pen had not been idle, and in 1903 the George
+Morang Co., of Toronto, published her second book of poems,
+entitled "Canadian Born," which was also well received.
+
+After a number of recitals, which included Newfoundland and the
+Maritime Provinces, she went to England again in 1906 and made her
+first appearance in Steinway Hall, under the distinguished patronage
+of Lord and Lady Strathcona.  In the following year she again
+visited London, returning by way of the United States, where she
+gave many recitals.  After another tour of Canada she decided to
+give up public work, to make Vancouver, B. C., her home, and to
+devote herself to literary work.
+
+Only a woman of remarkable powers of endurance could have borne up
+under the hardships necessarily encountered in travelling through
+North-western Canada in pioneer days as Miss Johnson did; and
+shortly after settling down in Vancouver the exposure and hardship
+she had endured began to tell on her, and her health completely
+broke down.  For almost a year she has been an invalid, and as she
+is unable to attend to the business herself, a trust has been formed
+by some of the leading citizens of her adopted city for the purpose
+of collecting and publishing for her benefit her later works.  Among
+these are the beautiful Indian Legends contained in this volume,
+which she has been at great pains to collect, and a series of boys'
+stories, which have been exceedingly well received by magazine
+readers.
+
+During the sixteen years Miss Johnson was travelling, she had
+many varied and interesting experiences.  She travelled the old
+Battleford trail before the railroad went through, and across the
+Boundary country in British Columbia in the romantic days of the
+early pioneers.  Once she took an eight hundred and fifty mile
+drive up the Cariboo trail to the gold fields.  She has always been
+an ardent canoeist, and has run many strange rivers, crossed many
+a lonely lake, and camped in many an unfrequented place.  These
+venturesome trips she made more from her inherent love of Nature
+and adventure than from any necessity of her profession.
+
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+  Preface
+  Author's Foreword
+  Biographical Notice
+  The Two Sisters
+  The Siwash Rock
+  The Recluse
+  The Lost Salmon-run
+  The Deep Waters
+  The Sea-Serpent
+  The Lost Island
+  Point Grey
+  The Tulameen Trail
+  The Grey Archway
+  Deadman's Island
+  A Squamish Legend of Napoleon
+  The Lure in Stanley Park
+  Deer Lake
+  A Royal Mohawk Chief
+
+
+
+
+
+THE TWO SISTERS
+-----
+THE LIONS
+
+
+You can see them as you look towards the north and the west, where
+the dream-hills swim into the sky amid their ever-drifting clouds
+of pearl and grey.  They catch the earliest hint of sunrise, they
+hold the last color of sunset.  Twin mountains they are, lifting
+their twin peaks above the fairest city in all Canada, and known
+throughout the British Empire as "The Lions of Vancouver."
+
+Sometimes the smoke of forest fires blurs them until they gleam like
+opals in a purple atmosphere, too beautiful for words to paint.
+Sometimes the slanting rains festoon scarfs of mist about their
+crests, and the peaks fade into shadowy outlines, melting, melting,
+forever melting into the distances.  But for most days in the year
+the sun circles the twin glories with a sweep of gold.  The moon
+washes them with a torrent of silver.  Oftentimes, when the city is
+shrouded in rain, the sun yellows their snows to a deep orange; but
+through sun and shadow they stand immovable, smiling westward above
+the waters of the restless Pacific, eastward above the superb beauty
+of the Capilano Canyon.  But the Indian tribes do not know these
+peaks as "The Lions."  Even the chief, whose feet have so recently
+wandered to the Happy Hunting Grounds, never heard the name given
+them until I mentioned it to him one dreamy August day, as together
+we followed the trail leading to the canyon.  He seemed so surprised
+at the name that I mentioned the reason it had been applied to them,
+asking him if he recalled the Landseer Lions in Trafalgar Square.
+Yes, he remembered those splendid sculptures, and his quick eye saw
+the resemblance instantly.  It appeared to please him, and his fine
+face expressed the haunting memories of the far-away roar of Old
+London.  But the "call of the blood" was stronger, and presently he
+referred to the Indian legend of those peaks--a legend that I have
+reason to believe is absolutely unknown to thousands of Palefaces
+who look upon "The Lions" daily, without the love for them that is
+in the Indian heart, without knowledge of the secret of "The Two
+Sisters."  The legend was intensely fascinating as it left his lips
+in the quaint broken English that is never so dulcet as when it
+slips from an Indian tongue.  His inimitable gestures, strong,
+graceful, comprehensive, were like a perfectly chosen frame
+embracing a delicate painting, and his brooding eyes were as the
+light in which the picture hung.  "Many thousands of years ago,"
+he began, "there were no twin peaks like sentinels guarding the
+outposts of this sunset coast.  They were placed there long after
+the first creation, when the Sagalie Tyee moulded the mountains,
+and patterned the mighty rivers where the salmon run, because
+of His love for His Indian children, and His wisdom for their
+necessities.  In those times there were many and mighty Indian
+tribes along the Pacific--in the mountain ranges, at the shores
+and sources of the great Fraser River.  Indian law ruled the land.
+Indian customs prevailed.  Indian beliefs were regarded.  Those
+were the legend-making ages when great things occurred to make the
+traditions we repeat to our children to-day.  Perhaps the greatest
+of these traditions is the story of 'The Two Sisters,' for they
+are known to us as 'The Chief's Daughters,' and to them we owe the
+Great Peace in which we live, and have lived for many countless
+moons.  There is an ancient custom amongst the coast tribes that,
+when our daughters step from childhood into the great world of
+womanhood, the occasion must be made one of extreme rejoicing.
+The being who possesses the possibility of some day mothering a
+man-child, a warrior, a brave, receives much consideration in most
+nations; but to us, the Sunset tribes, she is honored above all
+people.  The parents usually give a great potlatch, and a feast
+that lasts many days.  The entire tribe and the surrounding tribes
+are bidden to this festival.  More than that, sometimes when a
+great Tyee celebrates for his daughter, the tribes from far up the
+coast, from the distant north, from inland, from the island, from
+the Cariboo country, are gathered as guests to the feast.  During
+these days of rejoicing the girl is placed in a high seat, an
+exalted position, for is she not marriageable?  And does not
+marriage mean motherhood?  And does not motherhood mean a vaster
+nation of brave sons and of gentle daughters, who, in their turn,
+will give us sons and daughters of their own?
+
+"But it was many thousands of years ago that a great Tyee had two
+daughters that grew to womanhood at the same springtime, when the
+first great run of salmon thronged the rivers, and the ollallie
+bushes were heavy with blossoms.  These two daughters were young,
+lovable, and oh! very beautiful.  Their father, the great Tyee,
+prepared to make a feast such as the Coast had never seen.  There
+were to be days and days of rejoicing, the people were to come for
+many leagues, were to bring gifts to the girls and to receive gifts
+of great value from the chief, and hospitality was to reign as long
+as pleasuring feet could dance, and enjoying lips could laugh, and
+mouths partake of the excellence of the chief's fish, game, and
+ollallies.
+
+"The only shadow on the joy of it all was war, for the tribe of the
+great Tyee was at war with the Upper Coast Indians, those who lived
+north, near what is named by the Paleface as the port of Prince
+Rupert.  Giant war-canoes slipped along the entire coast, war
+parties paddled up and down, war-songs broke the silences of the
+nights, hatred, vengeance, strife, horror festered everywhere like
+sores on the surface of the earth.  But the great Tyee, after
+warring for weeks, turned and laughed at the battle and the
+bloodshed, for he had been victor in every encounter, and he could
+well afford to leave the strife for a brief week and feast in his
+daughters' honor, nor permit any mere enemy to come between him and
+the traditions of his race and household.  So he turned insultingly
+deaf ears to their war-cries; he ignored with arrogant indifference
+their paddle-dips that encroached within his own coast waters, and
+he prepared, as a great Tyee should, to royally entertain his
+tribesmen in honor of his daughters.
+
+"But seven suns before the great feast these two maidens came before
+him, hand clasped in hand.
+
+"'Oh! our father,' they said, 'may we speak?'
+
+"'Speak, my daughters, my girls with the eyes of April, the hearts
+of June'" (early spring and early summer would be the more accurate
+Indian phrasing).
+
+"'Some day, oh! our father, we may mother a man-child, who may grow
+to be just such a powerful Tyee as you are, and for this honor that
+may some day be ours we have come to crave a favor of you--you, Oh!
+our father.'
+
+"'It is your privilege at this celebration to receive any favor your
+hearts may wish,' he replied graciously, placing his fingers beneath
+their girlish chins.  'The favor is yours before you ask it, my
+daughters.'
+
+"'Will you, for our sakes, invite the great northern hostile
+tribe--the tribe you war upon--to this, our feast?' they asked
+fearlessly.
+
+"'To a peaceful feast, a feast in the honor of women?' he exclaimed
+incredulously.
+
+"'So we would desire it,' they answered.
+
+"'And so shall it be,' he declared.  'I can deny you nothing this
+day, and some time you may bear sons to bless this peace you have
+asked, and to bless their mother's sire for granting it.'  Then he
+turned to all the young men of the tribe and commanded: 'Build fires
+at sunset on all the coast headlands--fires of welcome.  Man your
+canoes and face the north, greet the enemy, and tell them that I,
+the Tyee of the Capilanos, ask--no, command--that they join me for a
+great feast in honor of my two daughters.'  And when the northern
+tribes got this invitation they flocked down the coast to this feast
+of a Great Peace.  They brought their women and their children;
+they brought game and fish, gold and white stone beads, baskets and
+carven ladles, and wonderful woven blankets to lay at the feet of
+their now acknowledged ruler, the great Tyee.  And he, in turn, gave
+such a potlatch that nothing but tradition can vie with it.  There
+were long, glad days of joyousness, long, pleasurable nights of
+dancing and camp-fires, and vast quantities of food.  The war-canoes
+were emptied of their deadly weapons and filled with the daily catch
+of salmon.  The hostile war-songs ceased, and in their place were
+heard the soft shuffle of dancing feet, the singing voices of women,
+the play-games of the children of two powerful tribes which had been
+until now ancient enemies, for a great and lasting brotherhood was
+sealed between them--their war-songs were ended forever.
+
+"Then the Sagalie Tyee smiled on His Indian children: 'I will
+make these young-eyed maidens immortal,' He said.  In the cup of
+His hands He lifted the chief's two daughters and set them forever
+in a high place, for they had borne two offspring--Peace and
+Brotherhood--each of which is now a great Tyee ruling this land.
+
+"And on the mountain crest the chief's daughters can be seen wrapped
+in the suns, the snows, the stars of all seasons, for they have
+stood in this high place for thousands of years, and will stand for
+thousands of years to come, guarding the peace of the Pacific Coast
+and the quiet of the Capilano Canyon."
+
+  *     *     *     *     *
+
+This is the Indian legend of "The Lions of Vancouver" as I had it
+from one who will tell me no more the traditions of his people.
+
+
+
+
+
+THE SIWASH ROCK
+
+
+Unique, and so distinct from its surroundings as to suggest rather
+the handicraft of man than a whim of Nature, it looms up at the
+entrance to the Narrows, a symmetrical column of solid grey stone.
+There are no similar formations within the range of vision, or
+indeed within many a day's paddle up and down the coast.  Amongst
+all the wonders, the natural beauties that encircle Vancouver,
+the marvels of mountains, shaped into crouching lions and brooding
+beavers, the yawning canyons, the stupendous forest firs and cedars,
+Siwash Rock stands as distinct, as individual, as if dropped from
+another sphere.
+
+I saw it first in the slanting light of a redly setting August sun;
+the little tuft of green shrubbery that crests its summit was black
+against the crimson of sea and sky, and its colossal base of grey
+stone gleamed like flaming polished granite.
+
+My old tillicum lifted his paddle-blade to point towards it.  "You
+know the story?" he asked.  I shook my head (experience has taught
+me his love of silent replies, his moods of legend-telling).  For a
+time we paddled slowly; the rock detached itself from its background
+of forest and shore, and it stood forth like a sentinel--erect,
+enduring, eternal.
+
+"Do you think it stands straight--like a man?" he asked.
+
+"Yes, like some noble-spirited, upright warrior," I replied.
+
+"It is a man," he said, "and a warrior man, too; a man who fought
+for everything that was noble and upright."
+
+"What do you regard as everything that is noble and upright, Chief?"
+I asked, curious as to his ideas.  I shall not forget the reply; it
+was but two words--astounding, amazing words.  He said simply:
+
+"Clean fatherhood."
+
+Through my mind raced tumultuous recollections of numberless
+articles in yet numberless magazines, all dealing with the recent
+"fad" of motherhood, but I had to hear from the lip of a Squamish
+Indian chief the only treatise on the nobility of "clean fatherhood"
+that I have yet unearthed.  And this treatise has been an Indian
+legend for centuries; and, lest they forget how all-important those
+two little words must ever be, Siwash Rock stands to remind them,
+set there by the Deity as a monument to one who kept his own life
+clean, that cleanliness might be the heritage of the generations
+to come.
+
+It was "thousands of years ago" (all Indian legends begin in
+extremely remote times) that a handsome boy chief journeyed in his
+canoe to the upper coast for the shy little northern girl whom he
+brought home as his wife.  Boy though he was, the young chief had
+proved himself to be an excellent warrior, a fearless hunter, and an
+upright, courageous man among men.  His tribe loved him, his enemies
+respected him, and the base and mean and cowardly feared him.
+
+The customs and traditions of his ancestors were a positive religion
+to him, the sayings and the advices of the old people were his
+creed.  He was conservative in every rite and ritual of his race.
+He fought his tribal enemies like the savage that he was.  He sang
+his war-songs, danced his war-dances, slew his foes, but the little
+girl-wife from the north he treated with the deference that he gave
+his own mother, for was she not to be the mother of his warrior son?
+
+The year rolled round, weeks merged into months, winter into spring,
+and one glorious summer at daybreak he wakened to her voice calling
+him.  She stood beside him, smiling.
+
+"It will be to-day," she said proudly.
+
+He sprang from his couch of wolf-skins and looked out upon the
+coming day: the promise of what it would bring him seemed breathing
+through all his forest world.  He took her very gently by the hand
+and led her through the tangle of wilderness down to the water's
+edge, where the beauty spot we moderns call Stanley Park bends
+about Prospect Point.  "I must swim," he told her.
+
+"I must swim, too," she smiled, with the perfect understanding of
+two beings who are mated.  For, to them, the old Indian custom was
+law--the custom that the parents of a coming child must swim until
+their flesh is so clear and clean that a wild animal cannot scent
+their proximity.  If the wild creatures of the forests have no fear
+of them, then, and only then, are they fit to become parents, and
+to scent a human is in itself a fearsome thing to all wild creatures.
+
+So those two plunged into the waters of the Narrows as the grey dawn
+slipped up the eastern skies and all the forest awoke to the life of
+a new, glad day.  Presently he took her ashore, and smilingly she
+crept away under the giant trees.  "I must be alone," she said, "but
+come to me at sunrise: you will not find me alone then."  He smiled
+also, and plunged back into the sea.  He must swim, swim, swim
+through this hour when his fatherhood was coming upon him.  It was
+the law that he must be clean, spotlessly clean, so that when his
+child looked out upon the world it would have the chance to live its
+own life clean.  If he did not swim hour upon hour his child would
+come to an unclean father.  He must give his child a chance in life;
+he must not hamper it by his own uncleanliness at its birth.  It was
+the tribal law--the law of vicarious purity.
+
+As he swam joyously to and fro, a canoe bearing four men headed up
+the Narrows.  These men were giants in stature, and the stroke of
+their paddles made huge eddies that boiled like the seething tides.
+
+"Out from our course!" they cried as his lithe, copper-colored body
+arose and fell with his splendid stroke.  He laughed at them, giants
+though they were, and answered that he could not cease his swimming
+at their demand.
+
+"But you shall cease!" they commanded.  "We are the men [agents] of
+the Sagalie Tyee [God], and we command you ashore out of our way!"
+(I find in all these Coast Indian legends that the Deity is
+represented by four men, usually paddling an immense canoe.)
+
+He ceased swimming, and, lifting his head, defied them.  "I shall
+not stop, nor yet go ashore," he declared, striking out once more
+to the middle of the channel.
+
+"Do you dare disobey us," they cried--"we, the men of the Sagalie
+Tyee?  We can turn you into a fish, or a tree, or a stone for this;
+do you dare disobey the Great Tyee?"
+
+"I dare anything for the cleanliness and purity of my coming child.
+I dare even the Sagalie Tyee Himself, but my child must be born to a
+spotless life."
+
+The four men were astounded.  They consulted together, lighted their
+pipes, and sat in council.  Never had they, the men of the Sagalie
+Tyee, been defied before.  Now, for the sake of a little unborn
+child, they were ignored, disobeyed, almost despised.  The lithe
+young copper-colored body still disported itself in the cool
+waters; superstition held that should their canoe, or even their
+paddle-blades, touch a human being, their marvellous power would be
+lost. The handsome young chief swam directly in their course.  They
+dared not run him down; if so, they would become as other men.
+While they yet counselled what to do, there floated from out the
+forest a faint, strange, compelling sound.  They listened, and
+the young chief ceased his stroke as he listened also.  The faint
+sound drifted out across the waters once more.  It was the cry of
+a little, little child.  Then one of the four men, he that steered
+the canoe, the strongest and tallest of them all, arose, and,
+standing erect, stretched out his arms towards the rising sun
+and chanted, not a curse on the young chief's disobedience, but
+a promise of everlasting days and freedom from death.
+
+"Because you have defied all things that come in your path we
+promise this to you," he chanted; "you have defied what interferes
+with your child's chance for a clean life, you have lived as you
+wish your son to live, you have defied us when we would have stopped
+your swimming and hampered your child's future.  You have placed
+that child's future before all things, and for this the Sagalie Tyee
+commands us to make you forever a pattern for your tribe.  You shall
+never die, but you shall stand through all the thousands of years to
+come, where all eyes can see you.  You shall live, live, live as an
+indestructible monument to Clean Fatherhood."
+
+The four men lifted their paddles and the handsome young chief
+swam inshore; as his feet touched the line where sea and land met
+he was transformed into stone.
+
+Then the four men said, "His wife and child must ever be near him;
+they shall not die, but live also."  And they, too, were turned into
+stone.  If you penetrate the hollows in the woods near Siwash Rock
+you will find a large rock and a smaller one beside it.  They are
+the shy little bride-wife from the north, with her hour-old baby
+beside her.  And from the uttermost parts of the world vessels come
+daily throbbing and sailing up the Narrows.  From far trans-Pacific
+ports, from the frozen North, from the lands of the Southern Cross,
+they pass and repass the living rock that was there before their
+hulls were shaped, that will be there when their very names are
+forgotten, when their crews and their captains have taken their
+long last voyage, when their merchandise has rotted, and their
+owners are known no more.  But the tall, grey column of stone will
+still be there--a monument to one man's fidelity to a generation yet
+unborn--and will endure from everlasting to everlasting.
+
+
+
+
+
+THE RECLUSE
+
+
+Journeying toward the upper course of the Capilano River, about
+a mile citywards from the dam, you will pass a disused logger's
+shack.  Leave the trail at this point and strike through the
+undergrowth for a few hundred yards to the left and you will be
+on the rocky borders of that purest, most restless river in all
+Canada.  The stream is haunted with tradition, teeming with a score
+of romances that vie with its grandeur and loveliness, and of which
+its waters are perpetually whispering.  But I learned this legend
+from one whose voice was as dulcet as the swirling rapids; but,
+unlike them, that voice is hushed to-day, while the river, the
+river still sings on--sings on.
+
+It was singing in very melodious tones through the long August
+afternoon two summers ago, while we, the chief, his happy-hearted
+wife, and bright young daughter, all lounged amongst the boulders
+and watched the lazy clouds drift from peak to peak far above us.
+It was one of his inspired days; legends crowded to his lips as a
+whistle teases the mouth of a happy boy; his heart was brimming
+with tales of the bygones, his eyes were dark with dreams and that
+strange mournfulness that always haunted them when he spoke of
+long-ago romances.  There was not a tree, a boulder, a dash of rapid
+upon which his glance fell which he could not link with some ancient
+poetic superstition.  Then abruptly, in the very midst of his verbal
+reveries, he turned and asked me if I were superstitious.  Of course
+I replied that I was.
+
+"Do you think some happenings will bring trouble later on--will
+foretell evil?" he asked.
+
+I made some evasive answer, which, however, seemed to satisfy him,
+for he plunged into the strange tale of the recluse of the canyon
+with more vigor than dreaminess; but first he asked me the question:
+
+"What do your own tribes, those east of the great mountains, think
+of twin children?"
+
+I shook my head.
+
+"That is enough," he said before I could reply.  "I see, your
+people do not like them."
+
+"Twin children are almost unknown with us," I hastened.  "They are
+rare, very rare; but it is true we do not welcome them."
+
+"Why?" he asked abruptly.
+
+I was a little uncertain about telling him.  If I said the wrong
+thing, the coming tale might die on his lips before it was born
+to speech, but we understood each other so well that I finally
+ventured the truth:
+
+"We Iroquois say that twin children are as rabbits," I explained.
+"The nation always nicknames the parents.  'Tow-wan-da-na-ga.'
+That is the Mohawk for rabbit."
+
+"Is that all?" he asked curiously.
+
+"That is all.  Is it not enough to render twin children unwelcome?"
+I questioned.
+
+He thought a while, then, with evident desire to learn how all races
+regarded this occurrence, he said, "You have been much among the
+Palefaces, what do they say of twins?"
+
+"Oh! the Palefaces like them.  They are--they are--oh! well, they
+say they are very proud of having twins," I stammered.  Once again I
+was hardly sure of my ground.  He looked most incredulous, and I was
+led to enquire what his own people of the Squamish thought of this
+discussed problem.
+
+"It is no pride to us," he said decidedly, "nor yet is it disgrace
+of rabbits; but it is a fearsome thing--a sign of coming evil to the
+father, and, worse than that, of coming disaster to the tribe."
+
+Then I knew he held in his heart some strange incident that
+gave substance to the superstition.  "Won't you tell it to me?"
+I begged.
+
+He leaned a little backward against a giant boulder, clasping his
+thin, brown hands about his knees; his eyes roved up the galloping
+river, then swept down the singing waters to where they crowded past
+the sudden bend, and during the entire recital of the strange legend
+his eyes never left that spot where the stream disappeared in its
+hurrying journey to the sea.  Without preamble he began:
+
+"It was a grey morning when they told him of this disaster that had
+befallen him.  He was a great chief, and he ruled many tribes on the
+North Pacific Coast; but what was his greatness now?  His young wife
+had borne him twins, and was sobbing out her anguish in the little
+fir-bark lodge near the tidewater.
+
+"Beyond the doorway gathered many old men and women--old in years,
+old in wisdom, old in the lore and learning of their nations.  Some
+of them wept, some chanted solemnly the dirge of their lost hopes
+and happiness, which would never return because of this calamity;
+others discussed in hushed voices this awesome thing, and for hours
+their grave council was broken only by the infant cries of the two
+boy-babies in the bark lodge, the hopeless sobs of the young mother,
+the agonized moans of the stricken chief--their father.
+
+"'Something dire will happen to the tribe,' said the old men in
+council.
+
+"'Something dire will happen to him, my husband,' wept the young
+mother.
+
+"'Something dire will happen to us all,' echoed the unhappy father.
+
+"Then an ancient medicine-man arose, lifting his arms, outstretching
+his palms to hush the lamenting throng.  His voice shook with the
+weight of many winters, but his eyes were yet keen and mirrored the
+clear thought and brain behind them, as the still trout-pools in
+the Capilano mirror the mountain tops.  His words were masterful,
+his gestures commanding, his shoulders erect and kindly.  His was
+a personality and an inspiration that no one dared dispute, and
+his judgment was accepted as the words fell slowly, like a doom.
+
+"'It is the olden law of the Squamish that, lest evil befall the
+tribe, the sire of twin children must go afar and alone, into the
+mountain fastnesses, there by his isolation and his loneliness to
+prove himself stronger than the threatened evil, and thus to beat
+back the shadow that would otherwise follow him and all his people.
+I, therefore, name for him the length of days that he must spend
+alone fighting his invisible enemy.  He will know by some great sign
+in Nature the hour that the evil is conquered, the hour that his
+race is saved.  He must leave before this sun sets, taking with him
+only his strongest bow, his fleetest arrows, and, going up into the
+mountain wilderness, remain there ten days--alone, alone.'
+
+"The masterful voice ceased, the tribe wailed their assent, the
+father arose speechless, his drawn face revealing great agony over
+this seemingly brief banishment.  He took leave of his sobbing wife,
+of the two tiny souls that were his sons, grasped his favorite bow
+and arrows, and faced the forest like a warrior.  But at the end
+of the ten days he did not return, nor yet ten weeks, nor yet ten
+months.
+
+"'He is dead,' wept the mother into the baby ears of her two boys.
+'He could not battle against the evil that threatened; it was
+stronger than he--he, so strong, so proud, so brave.'
+
+"'He is dead,' echoed the tribesmen and the tribeswomen.  'Our
+strong, brave chief, he is dead.'  So they mourned the long year
+through, but their chants and their tears but renewed their grief;
+he did not return to them.
+
+"Meanwhile, far up the Capilano the banished chief had built his
+solitary home; for who can tell what fatal trick of sound, what
+current of air, what faltering note in the voice of the medicine-man
+had deceived his alert Indian ears?  But some unhappy fate had led
+him to understand that his solitude must be of ten years' duration,
+not ten days, and he had accepted the mandate with the heroism of a
+stoic.  For if he had refused to do so his belief was that, although
+the threatened disaster would be spared him, the evil would fall
+upon his tribe.  Thus was one more added to the long list of
+self-forgetting souls whose creed has been, 'It is fitting that
+one should suffer for the people.'  It was the world-old heroism
+of vicarious sacrifice.
+
+"With his hunting-knife the banished Squamish chief stripped the
+bark from the firs and cedars, building for himself a lodge beside
+the Capilano River, where leaping trout and salmon could be speared
+by arrow-heads fastened to deftly shaped, long handles.  All through
+the salmon-run he smoked and dried the fish with the care of a
+housewife.  The mountain sheep and goats, and even huge black and
+cinnamon bears, fell before his unerring arrows; the fleet-footed
+deer never returned to their haunts from their evening drinking at
+the edge of the stream--their wild hearts, their agile bodies were
+stilled when he took aim.  Smoked hams and saddles hung in rows from
+the cross-poles of his bark lodge, and the magnificent pelts of
+animals carpeted his floors, padded his couch, and clothed his body.
+He tanned the soft doe-hides, making leggings, moccasins and shirts,
+stitching them together with deer sinew as he had seen his mother do
+in the long-ago.  He gathered the juicy salmon-berries, their acid
+a sylvan, healthful change from meat and fish.  Month by month
+and year by year he sat beside his lonely camp-fire, waiting for
+his long term of solitude to end.  One comfort alone was his--he
+was enduring the disaster, fighting the evil, that his tribe might
+go unscathed, that his people be saved from calamity.  Slowly,
+laboriously the tenth year dawned; day by day it dragged its long
+weeks across his waiting heart, for Nature had not yet given the
+sign that his long probation was over.
+
+"Then, one hot summer day, the Thunder-bird came crashing through the
+mountains about him.  Up from the arms of the Pacific rolled the
+storm-cloud, and the Thunder-bird, with its eyes of flashing light,
+beat its huge vibrating wings on crag and canyon.
+
+"Up-stream, a tall shaft of granite rears its needle-like length.  It
+is named 'Thunder Rock,' and wise men of the Paleface people say it
+is rich in ore--copper, silver, and gold.  At the base of this shaft
+the Squamish chief crouched when the storm-cloud broke and bellowed
+through the ranges, and on its summit the Thunder-bird perched, its
+gigantic wings threshing the air into booming sounds, into splitting
+terrors, like the crash of a giant cedar hurtling down the mountain-side.
+
+"But when the beating of those black pinions ceased and the echo of
+their thunder-waves died down the depths of the canyon, the Squamish
+chief arose as a new man.  The shadow on his soul had lifted, the
+fears of evil were cowed and conquered.  In his brain, his blood,
+his veins, his sinews, he felt that the poison of melancholy dwelt
+no more.  He had redeemed his fault of fathering twin children; he
+had fulfilled the demands of the law of his tribe.
+
+"As he heard the last beat of the Thunder-bird's wings dying slowly,
+faintly, faintly, among the crags, he knew that the bird,
+too, was dying, for its soul was leaving its monster black body, and
+presently that soul appeared in the sky.  He could see it arching
+overhead, before it took its long journey to the Happy Hunting
+Grounds, for the soul of the Thunder-bird was a radiant half-circle
+of glorious color spanning from peak to peak.  He lifted his head
+then, for he knew it was the sign the ancient medicine-man had told
+him to wait for--the sign that his long banishment was ended.
+
+"And all these years, down in the tidewater country, the little
+brown-faced twins were asking childwise, 'Where is our father?
+Why have we no father, like other boys?'  To be met only with the
+oft-repeated reply, 'Your father is no more.  Your father, the
+great chief, is dead.'
+
+"But some strange filial intuition told the boys that their sire
+would some day return.  Often they voiced this feeling to their
+mother, but she would only weep and say that not even the witchcraft
+of the great medicine-man could bring him to them.  But when they
+were ten years old the two children came to their mother, hand
+within hand.  They were armed with their little hunting-knives,
+their salmon-spears, their tiny bows and arrows.
+
+"'We go to find our father,' they said.
+
+"'Oh! useless quest,' wailed the mother.
+
+"'Oh! useless quest,' echoed the tribes-people.
+
+"But the great medicine-man said, 'The heart of a child has
+invisible eyes; perhaps the child-eyes see him.  The heart of a
+child has invisible ears; perhaps the child-ears hear him call.
+Let them go.'  So the little children went forth into the forest;
+their young feet flew as though shod with wings, their young hearts
+pointed to the north as does the white man's compass.  Day after day
+they journeyed up-stream, until, rounding a sudden bend, they beheld
+a bark lodge with a thin blue curl of smoke drifting from its roof.
+
+"'It is our father's lodge,' they told each other, for their
+childish hearts were unerring in response to the call of kinship.
+Hand in hand they approached, and entering the lodge, said the
+one word, 'Come.'
+
+"The great Squamish chief outstretched his arms towards them, then
+towards the laughing river, then towards the mountains.
+
+"'Welcome, my sons!' he said.  'And good-bye, my mountains, my
+brothers, my crags, and my canyons!'  And with a child clinging to
+each hand he faced once more the country of the tidewater."
+
+  *     *     *     *     *
+
+The legend was ended.
+
+For a long time he sat in silence.  He had removed his gaze from the
+bend in the river, around which the two children had come and where
+the eyes of the recluse had first rested on them after ten years of
+solitude.
+
+The chief spoke again: "It was here, on this spot we are sitting,
+that he built his lodge: here he dwelt those ten years alone,
+alone."
+
+I nodded silently.  The legend was too beautiful to mar with
+comments, and, as the twilight fell, we threaded our way through
+the underbrush, past the disused logger's camp, and into the trail
+that leads citywards.
+
+
+
+
+
+THE LOST SALMON-RUN
+
+
+Great had been the "run," and the sockeye season was almost over.
+For that reason I wondered many times why my old friend, the
+klootchman, had failed to make one of the fishing fleet.  She was an
+indefatigable work-woman, rivalling her husband as an expert catcher,
+and all the year through she talked of little else but the coming
+run.  But this especial season she had not appeared amongst her
+fellow-kind.  The fleet and the canneries knew nothing of her, and
+when I enquired of her tribes-people they would reply without
+explanation, "She not here this year."
+
+But one russet September afternoon I found her.  I had idled down
+the trail from the swans' basin in Stanley Park to the rim that
+skirts the Narrows, and I saw her graceful, high-bowed canoe heading
+for the beach that is the favorite landing-place of the "tillicums"
+from the Mission.  Her canoe looked like a dream-craft, for the
+water was very still, and everywhere a blue film hung like a fragrant
+veil, for the peat on Lulu Island had been smoldering for days and
+its pungent odors and blue-grey haze made a dream-world of sea and
+shore and sky.
+
+I hurried up-shore, hailing her in the Chinook, and as she caught my
+voice she lifted her paddle directly above her head in the Indian
+signal of greeting.
+
+As she beached, I greeted her with extended eager hands to assist
+her ashore, for the klootchman is getting to be an old woman; albeit
+she paddles against tidewater like a boy in his teens.
+
+"No," she said, as I begged her to come ashore.  "I will wait--me.
+I just come to fetch Maarda; she been city; she soon come--now."
+But she left her "working" attitude and curled like a school-girl in
+the bow of the canoe, her elbows resting on her paddle which she
+had flung across the gunwales.
+
+"I have missed you, klootchman; you have not been to see me for
+three moons, and you have not fished or been at the canneries,"
+I remarked.
+
+"No," she said.  "I stay home this year."  Then, leaning towards me
+with grave import in her manner, her eyes, her voice, she added,
+"I have a grandchild, born first week July, so--I stay."
+
+So this explained her absence.  I, of course, offered
+congratulations and enquired all about the great event, for this
+was her first grandchild, and the little person was of importance.
+
+"And are you going to make a fisherman of him?" I asked.
+
+"No, no, not boy-child, it is girl-child," she answered with some
+indescribable trick of expression that led me to know she preferred
+it so.
+
+"You are pleased it is a girl?" I questioned in surprise.
+
+"Very pleased," she replied emphatically.  "Very good luck to have
+girl for first grandchild.  Our tribe not like yours; we want girl
+children first; we not always wish boy-child born just for fight.
+Your people, they care only for war-path; our tribe more peaceful.
+Very good sign first grandchild to be girl.  I tell you why:
+girl-child may be some time mother herself; very grand thing to be
+mother."
+
+I felt I had caught the secret of her meaning.  She was rejoicing
+that this little one should some time become one of the mothers
+of her race.  We chatted over it a little longer and she gave me
+several playful "digs" about my own tribe thinking so much less of
+motherhood than hers, and so much more of battle and bloodshed.
+Then we drifted into talk of the sockeye and of the hyiu chickimin
+the Indians would get.
+
+"Yes, hyiu chickimin," she repeated with a sigh of satisfaction.
+"Always; and hyiu muck-a-muck when big salmon run.  No more ever
+come that bad year when not any fish."
+
+"When was that?" I asked.
+
+"Before you born, or I, or"--pointing across the park to the distant
+city of Vancouver that breathed its wealth and beauty across the
+September afternoon--"before that place born, before white man came
+here--oh! long before."
+
+Dear old klootchman!  I knew by the dusk in her eyes that she was
+back in her Land of Legends, and that soon I would be the richer in
+my hoard of Indian lore.  She sat, still leaning on her paddle; her
+eyes, half-closed, rested on the distant outline of the blurred
+heights across the Inlet.  I shall not further attempt her broken
+English, for this is but the shadow of her story, and without her
+unique personality the legend is as a flower that lacks both color
+and fragrance.  She called it "The Lost Salmon-run."
+
+"The wife of the Great Tyee was but a wisp of a girl, but all the world
+was young in those days; even the Fraser River was young and small, not
+the mighty water it is now; but the pink salmon crowded its throat just
+as they do now, and the tillicums caught and salted and smoked the fish
+just as they have done this year, just as they will always do. But it
+was yet winter, and the rains were slanting and the fogs drifting,
+when the wife of the Great Tyee stood before him and said:
+
+"'Before the salmon-run I shall give to you a great gift.  Will you
+honor me most if it is the gift of a boy-child or a girl-child?'
+The Great Tyee loved the woman.  He was stern with his people, hard
+with his tribe; he ruled his council-fires with a will of stone.
+His medicine-men said he had no human heart in his body; his
+warriors said he had no human blood in his veins.  But he clasped
+this woman's hands, and his eyes, his lips, his voice, were gentle
+as her own, as he replied:
+
+"'Give to me a girl-child--a little girl-child--that she may grow
+to be like you, and, in her turn, give to her husband children.'
+
+"But when the tribes-people heard of his choice they arose in great
+anger.  They surrounded him in a deep, indignant circle.  'You are
+a slave to the woman,' they declared, 'and now you desire to make
+yourself a slave to a woman-baby.  We want an heir--a man-child to
+be our Great Tyee in years to come.  When you are old and weary of
+tribal affairs, when you sit wrapped in your blanket in the hot
+summer sunshine, because your blood is old and thin, what can a
+girl-child do to help either you or us?  Who, then, will be our
+Great Tyee?'
+
+"He stood in the centre of the menacing circle, his arms folded,
+his chin raised, his eyes hard as flint.  His voice, cold as stone,
+replied:
+
+"'Perhaps she will give you such a man-child, and, if so, the child
+is yours; he will belong to you, not to me; he will become the
+possession of the people.  But if the child is a girl she will
+belong to me--she will be mine.  You cannot take her from me as you
+took me from my mother's side and forced me to forget my aged father
+in my service to the tribe; she will belong to me, will be the mother
+of my grandchildren, and her husband will be my son.'
+
+"'You do not care for the good of your tribe.  You care only for
+your own wishes and desires,' they rebelled.  'Suppose the salmon-run
+is small, we will have no food; suppose there is no man-child,
+we will have no Great Tyee to show us how to get food from other
+tribes, and we shall starve.'
+
+"'Your hearts are black and bloodless,' thundered the Great Tyee,
+turning upon them fiercely, 'and your eyes are blinded.  Do you wish
+the tribe to forget how great is the importance of a child that
+will some day be a mother herself, and give to your children and
+grandchildren a Great Tyee?  Are the people to live, to thrive,
+to increase, to become more powerful with no mother-women to bear
+future sons and daughters?  Your minds are dead, your brains are
+chilled.  Still, even in your ignorance, you are my people: you
+and your wishes must be considered.  I call together the great
+medicine-men, the men of witchcraft, the men of magic.  They shall
+decide the laws which will follow the bearing of either boy or
+girl-child.  What say you, oh! mighty men?'
+
+"Messengers were then sent up and down the coast, sent far up the
+Fraser River, and to the valley lands inland for many leagues,
+gathering as they journeyed all the men of magic that could be
+found.  Never were so many medicine-men in council before.  They
+built fires and danced and chanted for many days.  They spoke with
+the gods of the mountains, with the gods of the sea; then 'the
+power' of decision came to them.  They were inspired with a choice
+to lay before the tribes-people, and the most ancient medicine-man
+in all the coast region arose and spoke their resolution:
+
+"'The people of the tribe cannot be allowed to have all things.
+They want a boy-child and they want a great salmon-run also.  They
+cannot have both.  The Sagalie Tyee has revealed to us, the great
+men of magic, that both these things will make the people arrogant
+and selfish.  They must choose between the two.'
+
+"'Choose, oh! you ignorant tribes-people,' commanded the Great
+Tyee.  'The wise men of our coast have said that the girl-child who
+will some day bear children of her own will also bring abundance of
+salmon at her birth; but the boy-child brings to you but himself.'
+
+"'Let the salmon go,' shouted the people, 'but give us a future
+Great Tyee.  Give us the boy-child.'
+
+"And when the child was born it was a boy.
+
+"'Evil will fall upon you,' wailed the Great Tyee.  'You have
+despised a mother-woman.  You will suffer evil and starvation and
+hunger and poverty, oh! foolish tribes-people.  Did you not know
+how great a girl-child is?'
+
+"That spring, people from a score of tribes came up to the Fraser
+for the salmon-run.  They came great distances--from the mountains,
+the lakes, the far-off dry lands, but not one fish entered the vast
+rivers of the Pacific Coast.  The people had made their choice.
+They had forgotten the honor that a mother-child would have brought
+them.  They were bereft of their food.  They were stricken with
+poverty.  Through the long winter that followed they endured
+hunger and starvation.  Since then our tribe has always welcomed
+girl-children--we want no more lost runs."
+
+The klootchman lifted her arms from her paddle as she concluded;
+her eyes left the irregular outline of the violet mountains.  She
+had come back to this year of grace--her Legend Land had vanished.
+
+"So," she added, "you see now, maybe, why I am glad my grandchild is
+girl; it means big salmon-run next year."
+
+"It is a beautiful story, klootchman," I said, "and I feel a
+cruel delight that your men of magic punished the people for
+their ill choice."
+
+"That because you girl-child yourself," she laughed.
+
+There was the slightest whisper of a step behind me.  I turned to
+find Maarda almost at my elbow.  The rising tide was unbeaching the
+canoe, and as Maarda stepped in and the klootchman slipped astern,
+it drifted afloat.
+
+"Kla-how-ya," nodded the klootchman as she dipped her paddle-blade
+in exquisite silence.
+
+"Kla-how-ya," smiled Maarda.
+
+"Kla-how-ya, tillicums," I replied, and watched for many moments as
+they slipped away into the blurred distance, until the canoe merged
+into the violet and grey of the farther shore.
+
+
+
+
+
+THE DEEP WATERS
+
+
+Far over your left shoulder as your boat leaves the Narrows to
+thread the beautiful waterways that lead to Vancouver Island,
+you will see the summit of Mount Baker robed in its everlasting
+whiteness and always reflecting some wonderful glory from the rising
+sun, the golden noontide, or the violet and amber sunset.  This is
+the Mount Ararat of the Pacific Coast peoples; for those readers who
+are familiar with the ways and beliefs and faiths of primitive races
+will agree that it is difficult to discover anywhere in the world
+a race that has not some story of the Deluge, which they have
+chronicled and localized to fit the understanding and the conditions
+of the nation that composes their own immediate world.
+
+Amongst the red nations of America I doubt if any two tribes have
+the same ideas regarding the Flood.  Some of the traditions
+concerning this vast whim of Nature are grotesque in the extreme;
+some are impressive; some even profound; but of all the stories of
+the Deluge that I have been able to collect I know of not a single
+one that can even begin to equal in beauty of conception, let alone
+rival in possible reality and truth, the Squamish legend of "The
+Deep Waters."
+
+I here quote the legend of "mine own people," the Iroquois tribes
+of Ontario, regarding the Deluge.  I do this to paint the color of
+contrast in richer shades, for I am bound to admit that we who
+pride ourselves on ancient intellectuality have but a childish tale
+of the Flood when compared with the jealously preserved annals of
+the Squamish, which savour more of history than tradition.  With
+"mine own people," animals always play a much more important part,
+and are endowed with a finer intelligence, than humans.  I do not
+find amid my notes a single tradition of the Iroquois wherein
+animals do not figure, and our story of the Deluge rests entirely
+with the intelligence of sea-going and river-going creatures.  With
+us, animals in olden times were greater than man; but it is not so
+with the Coast Indians, except in rare instances.
+
+When a Coast Indian consents to tell you a legend he will, without
+variation, begin it with, "It was before the white people came."
+
+The natural thing for you, then, to ask is, "But who were here then?"
+
+He will reply, "Indians, and just the trees, and animals, and
+fishes, and a few birds."
+
+So you are prepared to accept the animal world as intelligent
+co-habitants of the Pacific slope; but he will not lead you to think
+he regards them as equals, much less superiors.  But to revert to
+"mine own people": they hold the intelligence of wild animals far
+above that of man, for perhaps the one reason that when an animal
+is sick it effects its own cure; it knows what grasses and herbs to
+eat, what to avoid, while the sick human calls the medicine-man,
+whose wisdom is not only the result of years of study, but also
+heredity; consequently any great natural event, such as the Deluge,
+has much to do with the wisdom of the creatures of the forests and
+the rivers.
+
+Iroquois tradition tells us that once this earth was entirely
+submerged in water, and during this period for many days a busy
+little muskrat swam about vainly looking for a foothold of earth
+wherein to build his house.  In his search he encountered a turtle
+also leisurely swimming; so they had speech together, and the
+muskrat complained of weariness; he could find no foothold; he
+was tired of incessant swimming, and longed for land such as his
+ancestors enjoyed.  The turtle suggested that the muskrat should
+dive and endeavor to find earth at the bottom of the sea.  Acting on
+this advice, the muskrat plunged down, then arose with his two little
+forepaws grasping some earth he had found beneath the waters.
+
+"Place it on my shell and dive again for more," directed the
+turtle.  The muskrat did so; but when he returned with his paws
+filled with earth he discovered the small quantity he had first
+deposited on the turtle's shell had doubled in size.  The return
+from the third trip found the turtle's load again doubled.  So the
+building went on at double compound increase, and the world grew
+its continents and its islands with great rapidity, and now rests
+on the shell of a turtle.
+
+If you ask an Iroquois, "And did no men survive this flood?" he
+will reply, "Why should men survive?  The animals are wiser than
+men; let the wisest live."
+
+How, then, was the earth repeopled?
+
+The Iroquois will tell you that the otter was a medicine-man; that,
+in swimming and diving about, he found corpses of men and women;
+he sang his medicine-songs and they came to life, and the otter
+brought them fish for food until they were strong enough to provide
+for themselves.  Then the Iroquois will conclude his tale with,
+"You know well that the otter has greater wisdom than a man."
+
+So much for "mine own people" and our profound respect for the
+superior intelligence of our little brothers of the animal world.
+
+But the Squamish tribe hold other ideas.  It was on a February
+day that I first listened to this beautiful, humane story of the
+Deluge.  My royal old tillicum had come to see me through the rains
+and mists of late winter days.  The gateways of my wigwam always
+stood open--very widely open--for his feet to enter, and this
+especial day he came with the worst downpour of the season.
+
+Woman-like, I protested with a thousand contradictions in my voice,
+that he should venture out to see me on such a day.  It was "Oh!
+Chief, I am so glad to see you!" and it was "Oh! Chief, why didn't
+you stay at home on such a wet day--your poor throat will suffer."
+But I soon had quantities of hot tea for him, and the huge cup my
+own father always used was his--as long as the Sagalie Tyee allowed
+his dear feet to wander my way.  The immense cup stands idle and
+empty now for the second time.
+
+Helping him off with his great-coat, I chatted on about the deluge
+of rain, and he remarked it was not so very bad, as one could yet
+walk.
+
+"Fortunately, yes, for I cannot swim," I told him.
+
+He laughed, replying, "Well, it is not so bad as when the Great Deep
+Waters covered the world."
+
+Immediately I foresaw the coming legend, so crept into the shell of
+monosyllables.
+
+"No?" I questioned.
+
+"No," he replied.  "For, one time, there was no land here at all;
+everywhere there was just water."
+
+"I can quite believe it," I remarked caustically.
+
+He laughed--that irresistible, though silent, David Warfield laugh
+of his that always brought a responsive smile from his listeners.
+Then he plunged directly into the tradition, with no preface save a
+comprehensive sweep of his wonderful hands towards my wide window,
+against which the rains were beating.
+
+"It was after a long, long time of this--this rain.  The mountain
+streams were swollen, the rivers choked, the sea began to rise--and
+yet it rained; for weeks and weeks it rained."  He ceased speaking,
+while the shadows of centuries gone crept into his eyes.  Tales of
+the misty past always inspired him.
+
+"Yes," he continued.  "It rained for weeks and weeks, while the
+mountain torrents roared thunderingly down, and the sea crept
+silently up.  The level lands were first to float in sea-water, then
+to disappear.  The slopes were next to slip into the sea.  The world
+was slowly being flooded.  Hurriedly the Indian tribes gathered in
+one spot, a place of safety far above the reach of the on-creeping
+sea.  The spot was the circling shore of Lake Beautiful, up the
+North Arm.  They held a Great Council and decided at once upon a
+plan of action.  A giant canoe should be built, and some means
+contrived to anchor it in case the waters mounted to the heights.
+The men undertook the canoe, the women the anchorage.
+
+"A giant tree was felled, and day and night the men toiled over
+its construction into the most stupendous canoe the world has ever
+known.  Not an hour, not a moment, but many worked, while the
+toil-wearied ones slept, only to awake to renewed toil.  Meanwhile,
+the women also worked at a cable--the largest, the longest, the
+strongest that Indian hands and teeth had ever made.  Scores of
+them gathered and prepared the cedar-fibre; scores of them plaited,
+rolled, and seasoned it; scores of them chewed upon it inch by inch
+to make it pliable; scores of them oiled and worked, oiled and
+worked, oiled and worked it into a sea-resisting fabric.  And still
+the sea crept up, and up, and up.  It was the last day; hope of life
+for the tribes, of land for the world, was doomed.  Strong hands,
+self-sacrificing hands, fastened the cable the women had made--one
+end to the giant canoe, the other about an enormous boulder, a vast
+immovable rock as firm as the foundations of the world--for might
+not the canoe, with its priceless freight drift out, far out, to sea,
+and when the water subsided might not this ship of safety be leagues
+and leagues beyond the sight of land on the storm-driven Pacific?
+
+"Then, with the bravest hearts that ever beat, noble hands lifted
+every child of the tribe into this vast canoe; not one single baby
+was overlooked.  The canoe was stocked with food and fresh water,
+and lastly, the ancient men and women of the race selected as
+guardians to these children the bravest, most stalwart, handsomest
+young man of the tribes, and the mother of the youngest baby in the
+camp--she was but a girl of sixteen, her child but two weeks old;
+but she, too, was brave and very beautiful.  These two were placed,
+she at the bow of the canoe to watch, he at the stern to guide,
+and all the little children crowded between.
+
+"And still the sea crept up, and up, and up.  At the crest of the
+bluffs about Lake Beautiful the doomed tribes crowded.  Not a single
+person attempted to enter the canoe.  There was no wailing, no
+crying out for safety.  'Let the little children, the young mother,
+and the bravest and best of our young men live,' was all the
+farewell those in the canoe heard as the waters reached the summit,
+and--the canoe floated.  Last of all to be seen was the top of the
+tallest tree, then--all was a world of water.
+
+"For days and days there was no land--just the rush of swirling,
+snarling sea; but the canoe rode safely at anchor, the cable those
+scores of dead, faithful women had made held true as the hearts
+that beat behind the toil and labor of it all.
+
+"But one morning at sunrise, far to the south, a speck floated on the
+breast of the waters; at midday it was larger; at evening it was yet
+larger.  The moon arose, and in its magic light the man at the stern
+saw it was a patch of land.  All night he watched it grow, and at
+daybreak looked with glad eyes upon the summit of Mount Baker.  He
+cut the cable, grasped his paddle in his strong, young hands, and
+steered for the south.  When they landed, the waters were sunken
+half down the mountain-side.  The children were lifted out; the
+beautiful young mother, the stalwart young brave, turned to each
+other, clasped hands, looked into each other's eyes--and smiled.
+
+"And down in the vast country that lies between Mount Baker and
+the Fraser River they made a new camp, built new lodges, where the
+little children grew and thrived, and lived and loved, and the
+earth was repeopled by them.
+
+"The Squamish say that in a gigantic crevice half-way to the crest
+of Mount Baker may yet be seen the outlines of an enormous canoe,
+but I have never seen it myself."
+
+He ceased speaking with that far-off cadence in his voice with which
+he always ended a legend, and for a long time we both sat in silence
+listening to the rains that were still beating against the window.
+
+
+
+
+
+THE SEA-SERPENT
+
+
+There is one vice that is absolutely unknown to the red man; he
+was born without it, and amongst all the deplorable things he
+has learned from the white races, this, at least, he has never
+acquired.  That is the vice of avarice.  That the Indian looks
+upon greed of gain, miserliness, avariciousness, and wealth
+accumulated above the head of his poorer neighbor as one of the
+lowest degradations he can fall to is perhaps more aptly illustrated
+than anything I could quote to demonstrate his horror of what
+he calls "the white man's unkindness."  In a very wide and
+varied experience with many tribes, I have yet to find even one
+instance of avarice, and I have encountered but one single case of a
+"stingy Indian," and this man was so marked amongst his fellows that
+at mention of his name his tribes-people jeered and would remark
+contemptuously that he was like a white man--hated to share his
+money and his possessions.  All red races are born Socialists,
+and most tribes carry out their communistic ideas to the letter.
+Amongst the Iroquois it is considered disgraceful to have food if
+your neighbor has none.  To be a creditable member of the nation
+you must divide your possessions with your less fortunate fellows.
+I find it much the same amongst the Coast Indians, though they are
+less bitter in their hatred of the extremes of wealth and poverty
+than are the Eastern tribes.  Still, the very fact that they have
+preserved this legend, in which they liken avarice to a slimy
+sea-serpent, shows the trend of their ideas; shows, too, that an
+Indian is an Indian, no matter what his tribe; shows that he cannot,
+or will not, hoard money; shows that his native morals demand that
+the spirit of greed must be strangled at all cost.
+
+The chief and I had sat long over our luncheon.  He had been talking
+of his trip to England and of the many curious things he had seen.
+At last, in an outburst of enthusiasm, he said: "I saw everything
+in the world--everything but a sea-serpent!"
+
+"But there is no such thing as a sea-serpent," I laughed, "so you
+must have really seen everything in the world."
+
+His face clouded; for a moment he sat in silence; then, looking
+directly at me, said, "Maybe none now, but long ago there was one
+here--in the Inlet."
+
+"How long ago?" I asked.
+
+"When first the white gold-hunters came," he replied.  "Came with
+greedy, clutching fingers, greedy eyes, greedy hearts.  The white
+men fought, murdered, starved, went mad with love of that gold far
+up the Fraser River.  Tillicums were tillicums no more, brothers
+were foes, fathers and sons were enemies.  Their love of the gold
+was a curse."
+
+"Was it then the sea-serpent was seen?" I asked, perplexed with the
+problem of trying to connect the gold-seekers with such a monster.
+
+"Yes, it was then, but----" he hesitated, then plunged into the
+assertion, "but you will not believe the story if you think there
+is no such thing as a sea-serpent."
+
+"I shall believe whatever you tell me, Chief," I answered. "I am
+only too ready to believe.  You know I come of a superstitious race,
+and all my association with the Palefaces has never yet robbed me
+of my birthright to believe strange traditions."
+
+"You always understand," he said after a pause.
+
+"It's my heart that understands," I remarked quietly.
+
+He glanced up quickly, and with one of his all too few radiant
+smiles, he laughed.
+
+"Yes, skookum tum-tum."  Then without further hesitation he told
+the tradition, which, although not of ancient happening, is held in
+great reverence by his tribe.  During its recital he sat with folded
+arms, leaning on the table, his head and shoulders bending eagerly
+towards me as I sat at the opposite side.  It was the only time he
+ever talked to me when he did not use emphasising gesticulations,
+but his hands never once lifted: his wonderful eyes alone gave
+expression to what he called "The Legend of the 'Salt-chuck Oluk'"
+(sea-serpent).
+
+"Yes, it was during the first gold craze, and many of our young men
+went as guides to the whites far up the Fraser.  When they returned
+they brought these tales of greed and murder back with them, and
+our old people and our women shook their heads and said evil would
+come of it.  But all our young men, except one, returned as they
+went--kind to the poor, kind to those who were foodless, sharing
+whatever they had with their tillicums.  But one, by name Shak-shak
+(The Hawk), came back with hoards of gold nuggets, chickimin
+(money), everything; he was rich like the white men, and, like them,
+he kept it.  He would count his chickimin, count his nuggets, gloat
+over them, toss them in his palms.  He rested his head on them as
+he slept, he packed them about with him through the day.  He loved
+them better than food, better than his tillicums, better than his
+life.  The entire tribe arose.  They said Shak-shak had the disease
+of greed; that to cure it he must give a great potlatch, divide his
+riches with the poorer ones, share them with the old, the sick, the
+foodless.  But he jeered and laughed and told them No, and went on
+loving and gloating over his gold.
+
+"Then the Sagalie Tyee spoke out of the sky and said, 'Shak-shak,
+you have made of yourself a loathsome thing; you will not listen to
+the cry of the hungry, to the call of the old and sick; you will not
+share your possessions; you have made of yourself an outcast from
+your tribe and disobeyed the ancient laws of your people.  Now I
+will make of you a thing loathed and hated by all men, both white
+and red.  You will have two heads, for your greed has two mouths to
+bite.  One bites the poor, and one bites your own evil heart; and
+the fangs in these mouths are poison--poison that kills the hungry,
+and poison that kills your own manhood.  Your evil heart will
+beat in the very centre of your foul body, and he that pierces it
+will kill the disease of greed forever from amongst his people.'
+And when the sun arose above the North Arm the next morning the
+tribes-people saw a gigantic sea-serpent stretched across the
+surface of the waters.  One hideous head rested on the bluffs at
+Brockton Point, the other rested on a group of rocks just below
+Mission, at the western edge of North Vancouver.  If you care to go
+there some day I will show you the hollow in one great stone where
+that head lay.  The tribes-people were stunned with horror.  They
+loathed the creature, they hated it, they feared it.  Day after day
+it lay there, its monstrous heads lifted out of the waters, its
+mile-long body blocking all entrance from the Narrows, all outlet
+from the North Arm.  The chiefs made council, the medicine-men
+danced and chanted, but the salt-chuck oluk never moved.  It could
+not move, for it was the hated totem of what now rules the white
+man's world--greed and love of chickimin.  No one can ever move the
+love of chickimin from the white man's heart, no one can ever make
+him divide all with the poor.  But after the chiefs and medicine-men
+had done all in their power, and still the salt-chuck oluk lay
+across the waters, a handsome boy of sixteen approached them and
+reminded them of the words of the Sagalie Tyee, 'that he that
+pierced the monster's heart would kill the disease of greed forever
+amongst his people.'
+
+"'Let me try to find this evil heart, oh! great men of my tribe,' he
+cried.  'Let me war upon this creature; let me try to rid my people
+of this pestilence.'
+
+"The boy was brave and very beautiful.  His tribes-people called him
+the Tenas Tyee (Little Chief) and they loved him.  Of all his wealth
+of fish and furs, of game and hykwa (large shell-money) he gave to
+the boys who had none; he hunted food for the old people; he tanned
+skins and furs for those whose feet were feeble, whose eyes were
+fading, whose blood ran thin with age.
+
+"'Let him go!' cried the tribes-people.  'This unclean monster can
+only be overcome by cleanliness, this creature of greed can only
+be overthrown by generosity.  Let him go!'  The chiefs and the
+medicine-men listened, then consented.  'Go,' they commanded, 'and
+fight this thing with your strongest weapons--cleanliness and
+generosity.'
+
+"The Tenas Tyee turned to his mother.  'I shall be gone four days,'
+he told her, 'and I shall swim all that time.  I have tried all my
+life to be generous, but the people say I must be clean also to
+fight this unclean thing.  While I am gone put fresh furs on my bed
+every day, even if I am not here to lie on them; if I know my bed,
+my body and my heart are all clean I can overcome this serpent.'
+
+"'Your bed shall have fresh furs every morning,' his mother
+said simply.
+
+"The Tenas Tyee then stripped himself, and, with no clothing save a
+buckskin belt into which he thrust his hunting-knife, he flung his
+lithe young body into the sea.  But at the end of four days he did
+not return.  Sometimes his people could see him swimming far out in
+mid-channel, endeavoring to find the exact centre of the serpent,
+where lay its evil, selfish heart; but on the fifth morning they saw
+him rise out of the sea, climb to the summit of Brockton Point, and
+greet the rising sun with outstretched arms.  Weeks and months went
+by, still the Tenas Tyee would swim daily searching for that heart
+of greed; and each morning the sunrise glinted on his slender young
+copper-colored body as he stood with outstretched arms at the tip
+of Brockton Point, greeting the coming day and then plunging from
+the summit into the sea.
+
+"And at his home on the north shore his mother dressed his bed with
+fresh furs each morning.  The seasons drifted by; winter followed
+summer, summer followed winter.  But it was four years before the
+Tenas Tyee found the centre of the great salt-chuck oluk and plunged
+his hunting-knife into its evil heart.  In its death-agony it
+writhed through the Narrows, leaving a trail of blackness on the
+waters.  Its huge body began to shrink, to shrivel; it became
+dwarfed and withered, until nothing but the bones of its back
+remained, and they, sea-bleached and lifeless, soon sank to the bed
+of the ocean leagues off from the rim of land.  But as the Tenas
+Tyee swam homeward and his clean, young body crossed through the
+black stain left by the serpent, the waters became clear and blue
+and sparkling.  He had overcome even the trail of the salt-chuck
+oluk.
+
+"When at last he stood in the doorway of his home he said, 'My
+mother, I could not have killed the monster of greed amongst my
+people had you not helped me by keeping one place for me at home
+fresh and clean for my return.'
+
+"She looked at him as only mothers look.  'Each day, these four
+years, fresh furs have I laid for your bed.  Sleep now, and rest,
+oh! my Tenas Tyee,' she said."
+
+  *     *     *     *     *
+
+The chief unfolded his arms, and his voice took another tone as he
+said, "What do you call that story--a legend?"
+
+"The white people would call it an allegory," I answered.  He shook
+his head.
+
+"No savvy," he smiled.
+
+I explained as simply as possible, and with his customary alertness
+he immediately understood.  "That's right," he said.  "That's what
+we say it means, we Squamish, that greed is evil and not clean,
+like the salt-chuck oluk.  That it must be stamped out amongst our
+people, killed by cleanliness and generosity.  The boy that overcame
+the serpent was both these things."
+
+"What became of this splendid boy?" I asked.
+
+"The Tenas Tyee?  Oh! some of our old, old people say they
+sometimes see him now, standing on Brockton Point, his bare young
+arms outstretched to the rising sun," he replied.
+
+"Have you ever seen him, Chief?" I questioned.
+
+"No," he answered simply.  But I have never heard such poignant
+regret as his wonderful voice crowded into that single word.
+
+
+
+
+
+THE LOST ISLAND
+
+
+"Yes," said my old tillicum, "we Indians have lost many things.
+We have lost our lands, our forests, our game, our fish; we have
+lost our ancient religion, our ancient dress; some of the younger
+people have even lost their fathers' language and the legends and
+traditions of their ancestors.  We cannot call those old things back
+to us; they will never come again.  We may travel many days up the
+mountain-trails, and look in the silent places for them.  They are
+not there.  We may paddle many moons on the sea, but our canoes will
+never enter the channel that leads to the yesterdays of the Indian
+people.  These things are lost, just like 'The Island of the North
+Arm.'  They may be somewhere nearby, but no one can ever find them."
+
+"But there are many islands up the North Arm," I asserted.
+
+"Not the island we Indian people have sought for many tens of
+summers," he replied sorrowfully.
+
+"Was it ever there?" I questioned.
+
+"Yes, it was there," he said.  "My grandsires and my
+great-grandsires saw it; but that was long ago.  My father never
+saw it, though he spent many days in many years searching, always
+searching for it.  I am an old man myself, and I have never seen
+it, though from my youth, I, too, have searched.  Sometimes in the
+stillness of the nights I have paddled up in my canoe."  Then,
+lowering his voice: "Twice I have seen its shadow: high rocky
+shores, reaching as high as the tree-tops on the mainland, then tall
+pines and firs on its summit like a king's crown.  As I paddled up
+the Arm one summer night, long ago, the shadow of these rocks and
+firs fell across my canoe, across my face, and across the waters
+beyond.  I turned rapidly to look.  There was no island there,
+nothing but a wide stretch of waters on both sides of me, and the
+moon almost directly overhead.  Don't say it was the shore that
+shadowed me," he hastened, catching my thought.  "The moon was above
+me; my canoe scarce made a shadow on the still waters.  No, it was
+not the shore."
+
+"Why do you search for it?" I lamented, thinking of the old dreams
+in my own life whose realization I have never attained.
+
+"There is something on that island that I want.  I shall look for
+it until I die, for it is there," he affirmed.
+
+There was a long silence between us after that.  I had learned to
+love silences when with my old tillicum, for they always led to a
+legend.  After a time he began voluntarily:
+
+"It was more than one hundred years ago.  This great city of
+Vancouver was but the dream of the Sagalie Tyee [God] at that time.
+The dream had not yet come to the white man; only one great Indian
+medicine-man knew that some day a great camp for Palefaces would lie
+between False Creek and the Inlet.  This dream haunted him; it came
+to him night and day--when he was amid his people laughing and
+feasting, or when he was alone in the forest chanting his strange
+songs, beating his hollow drum, or shaking his wooden witch-rattle
+to gain more power to cure the sick and the dying of his tribe.  For
+years this dream followed him.  He grew to be an old, old man, yet
+always he could hear voices, strong and loud, as when they first
+spoke to him in his youth, and they would say: 'Between the two
+narrow strips of salt water the white men will camp, many hundreds
+of them, many thousands of them.  The Indians will learn their ways,
+will live as they do, will become as they are.  There will be no
+more great war-dances, no more fights with other powerful tribes;
+it will be as if the Indians had lost all bravery, all courage, all
+confidence.'  He hated the voices, he hated the dream; but all his
+power, all his big medicine, could not drive them away.  He was the
+strongest man on all the North Pacific Coast.  He was mighty and
+very tall, and his muscles were as those of Leloo, the timber-wolf,
+when he is strongest to kill his prey.  He could go for many days
+without food; he could fight the largest mountain-lion; he could
+overthrow the fiercest grizzly bear; he could paddle against the
+wildest winds and ride the highest waves.  He could meet his enemies
+and kill whole tribes single-handed.  His strength, his courage, his
+power, his bravery, were those of a giant.  He knew no fear; nothing
+in the sea, or in the forest, nothing in the earth or the sky, could
+conquer him.  He was fearless, fearless.  Only this haunting dream
+of the coming white man's camp he could not drive away; it was the
+only thing in life he had tried to kill and failed.  It drove him
+from the feasting, drove him from the pleasant lodges, the fires,
+the dancing, the story-telling of his people in their camp by the
+water's edge, where the salmon thronged and the deer came down to
+drink of the mountain-streams.  He left the Indian village, chanting
+his wild songs as he went.  Up through the mighty forests he
+climbed, through the trailless deep mosses and matted vines, up to
+the summit of what the white men call Grouse Mountain.  For many
+days he camped there.  He ate no food, he drank no water, but sat
+and sang his medicine-songs through the dark hours and through the
+day.  Before him--far beneath his feet--lay the narrow strip of land
+between the two salt waters.  Then the Sagalie Tyee gave him the
+power to see far into the future.  He looked across a hundred years,
+just as he looked across what you call the Inlet, and he saw mighty
+lodges built close together, hundreds and thousands of them--lodges
+of stone and wood, and long straight trails to divide them.  He saw
+these trails thronging with Palefaces; he heard the sound of the
+white man's paddle-dip on the waters, for it is not silent like the
+Indian's; he saw the white man's trading posts, saw the fishing-nets,
+heard his speech.  Then the vision faded as gradually as it
+came.  The narrow strip of land was his own forest once more.
+
+"'I am old,' he called, in his sorrow and his trouble for his
+people.  'I am old, O Sagalie Tyee!  Soon I shall die and go to
+the Happy Hunting Grounds of my fathers.  Let not my strength die
+with me.  Keep living for all time my courage, my bravery, my
+fearlessness.  Keep them for my people that they may be strong
+enough to endure the white man's rule.  Keep my strength living
+for them; hide it so that the Paleface may never find or see it.'
+
+"Then he came down from the summit of Grouse Mountain.  Still
+chanting his medicine-songs, he entered his canoe and paddled
+through the colors of the setting sun far up the North Arm.  When
+night fell he came to an island with misty shores of great grey
+rock; on its summit tall pines and firs encircled like a king's
+crown.  As he neared it he felt all his strength, his courage, his
+fearlessness, leaving him; he could see these things drift from
+him on to the island.  They were as the clouds that rest on the
+mountains, grey-white and half transparent.  Weak as a woman, he
+paddled back to the Indian village; he told them to go and search
+for 'The Island,' where they would find all his courage, his
+fearlessness and his strength, living, living forever.  He slept
+then, but--in the morning he did not awake.  Since then our young
+men and our old have searched for 'The Island.'  It is there
+somewhere, up some lost channel, but we cannot find it.  When we
+do, we will get back all the courage and bravery we had before the
+white man came, for the great medicine-man said those things never
+die--they live for one's children and grandchildren."
+
+His voice ceased.  My whole heart went out to him in his longing
+for the lost island.  I thought of all the splendid courage I knew
+him to possess, so made answer: "But you say that the shadow of
+this island has fallen upon you; is it not so, tillicum?"
+
+"Yes," he said half mournfully.  "But only the shadow."
+
+
+
+
+
+POINT GREY
+
+
+"Have you ever sailed around Point Grey?" asked a young Squamish
+tillicum of mine who often comes to see me, to share a cup of
+tea and a taste of muck-a-muck that otherwise I should eat in
+solitude.
+
+"No," I admitted, I had not had that pleasure, for I did not know
+the uncertain waters of English Bay sufficiently well to venture
+about its headlands in my frail canoe.
+
+"Some day, perhaps next summer, I'll take you there in a sail-boat,
+and show you the big rock at the south-west of the Point.  It is a
+strange rock; we Indian people call it Homolsom."
+
+"What an odd name!" I commented.  "Is it a Squamish word?--it does
+not sound to me like one."
+
+"It is not altogether Squamish, but half Fraser River language.  The
+Point was the dividing-line between the grounds and waters of the
+two tribes; so they agreed to make the name 'Homolsom' from the two
+languages."
+
+I suggested more tea, and, as he sipped it, he told me the legend
+that few of the younger Indians know.  That he believes the story
+himself is beyond question, for many times he admitted having tested
+the virtues of this rock, and it had never once failed him.  All
+people that have to do with water-craft are superstitious about
+some things, and I freely acknowledge that times innumerable I
+have "whistled up" a wind when dead calm threatened, or stuck
+a jack-knife in the mast, and afterwards watched with great
+contentment the idle sail fill, and the canoe pull out to a light
+breeze.  So, perhaps, I am prejudiced in favor of this legend of
+Homolsom Rock, for it strikes a very responsive chord in that
+portion of my heart that has always throbbed for the sea.
+
+"You know," began my young tillicum, "that only waters unspoiled
+by human hands can be of any benefit.  One gains no strength by
+swimming in any waters heated or boiled by fires that men build.
+To grow strong and wise one must swim in the natural rivers, the
+mountain torrents, the sea, just as the Sagalie Tyee made them.
+Their virtues die when human beings try to improve them by heating
+or distilling, or placing even tea in them, and so--what makes
+Homolsom Rock so full of 'good medicine' is that the waters that
+wash up about it are straight from the sea, made by the hand of
+the Great Tyee, and unspoiled by the hand of man.
+
+"It was not always there, that great rock, drawing its strength and
+its wonderful power from the seas, for it, too, was once a Great
+Tyee, who ruled a mighty tract of waters.  He was god of all the
+waters that wash the coast, of the Gulf of Georgia, of Puget Sound,
+of the Straits of Juan de Fuca, of the waters that beat against even
+the west coast of Vancouver Island, and of all the channels that cut
+between the Charlotte Islands.  He was Tyee of the West Wind, and
+his storms and tempests were so mighty that the Sagalie Tyee Himself
+could not control the havoc that he created.  He warred upon all
+fishing craft, he demolished canoes, and sent men to graves in the
+sea.  He uprooted forests and drove the surf on shore heavy with
+wreckage of despoiled trees and with beaten and bruised fish.  He
+did all this to reveal his powers, for he was cruel and hard of
+heart, and he would laugh and defy the Sagalie Tyee, and, looking up
+to the sky, he would call, 'See how powerful I am, how mighty, how
+strong; I am as great as you.'
+
+"It was at this time that the Sagalie Tyee in the persons of the
+Four Men came in the great canoe up over the rim of the Pacific,
+in that age thousands of years ago when they turned the evil into
+stone, and the kindly into trees.
+
+"'Now,' said the god of the West Wind, 'I can show how great I am.
+I shall blow a tempest that these men may not land on my coast.
+They shall not ride my seas and sounds and channels in safety.  I
+shall wreck them and send their bodies into the great deeps, and I
+shall be Sagalie Tyee in their place and ruler of all the world.'
+So the god of the West Wind blew forth his tempests.  The waves
+arose mountain high, the seas lashed and thundered along the shores.
+The roar of his mighty breath could be heard wrenching giant limbs
+from the forest trees, whistling down the canyons and dealing death
+and destruction for leagues and leagues along the coast.  But the
+canoe containing the Four Men rode upright through all the heights
+and hollows of the seething ocean.  No curling crest or sullen depth
+could wreck that magic craft, for the hearts it bore were filled
+with kindness for the human race, and kindness cannot die.
+
+"It was all rock and dense forest, and unpeopled; only wild animals
+and sea-birds sought the shelter it provided from the terrors of the
+West Wind; but he drove them out in sullen anger, and made on this
+strip of land his last stand against the Four Men.  The Paleface
+calls the place Point Grey, but the Indians yet speak of it as
+'The Battle Ground of the West Wind.'  All his mighty forces he
+now brought to bear against the oncoming canoe; he swept great
+hurricanes about the stony ledges; he caused the sea to beat and
+swirl in tempestuous fury along its narrow fastnesses; but the canoe
+came nearer and nearer, invincible as those shores, and stronger
+than death itself.  As the bow touched the land the Four Men arose
+and commanded the West Wind to cease his war-cry, and, mighty though
+he had been, his voice trembled and sobbed itself into a gentle
+breeze, then fell to a whispering note, then faded into exquisite
+silence.
+
+"'Oh, you evil one with the unkind heart,' cried the Four Men, 'you
+have been too great a god for even the Sagalie Tyee to obliterate
+you forever, but you shall live on, live now to serve, not to hinder
+mankind.  You shall turn into stone where you now stand, and you
+shall rise only as men wish you to.  Your life from this day shall
+be for the good of man, for when the fisherman's sails are idle and
+his lodge is leagues away you shall fill those sails and blow his
+craft free, in whatever direction he desires.  You shall stand where
+you are through all the thousands upon thousands of years to come,
+and he who touches you with his paddle-blade shall have his desire
+of a breeze to carry him home.'"
+
+My young tillicum had finished his tradition, and his great, solemn
+eyes regarded me half-wistfully.
+
+"I wish you could see Homolsom Rock," he said.  "For that is he who
+was once the Tyee of the West Wind."
+
+"Were you ever becalmed around Point Grey?" I asked irrelevantly.
+
+"Often," he replied.  "But I paddle up to the rock and touch it with
+the tip of my paddle-blade, and, no matter which way I want to go, the
+wind will blow free for me, if I wait a little while."
+
+"I suppose your people all do this?" I replied.
+
+"Yes, all of them," he answered.  "They have done it for hundreds of
+years.  You see the power in it is just as great now as at first,
+for the rock feeds every day on the unspoiled sea that the Sagalie
+Tyee made."
+
+
+
+
+
+THE TULAMEEN TRAIL
+
+
+Did you ever "holiday" through the valley lands of the Dry Belt?
+Ever spend days and days in a swinging, swaying coach, behind a
+four-in-hand, when "Curly" or "Nicola Ned" held the ribbons, and
+tooled his knowing little leaders and wheelers down those horrifying
+mountain-trails that wind like russet skeins of cobweb through the
+heights and depths of the Okanagan, the Nicola, and the Similkameen
+countries?  If so, you have listened to the call of the Skookum
+Chuck, as the Chinook speakers call the rollicking, tumbling streams
+that sing their way through the canyons with a music so dulcet,
+so insistent, that for many moons the echo of it lingers in your
+listening ears, and you will, through all the years to come, hear
+the voices of those mountain-rivers calling you to return.
+
+But the most haunting of all the melodies is the warbling laughter
+of the Tulameen; its delicate note is far more powerful, more
+far-reaching than the throaty thunders of Niagara.  That is why the
+Indians of the Nicola country still cling to their old-time story
+that the Tulameen carries the spirit of a young girl enmeshed in the
+wonders of its winding course; a spirit that can never free itself
+from the canyons, to rise above the heights and follow its fellows
+to the Happy Hunting Grounds, but which is contented to entwine its
+laughter, its sobs, its lonely whispers, its still lonelier call for
+companionship, with the wild music of the waters that sing forever
+beneath the western stars.
+
+As your horses plod up and up the almost perpendicular trail that
+leads out of the Nicola Valley to the summit, a paradise of beauty
+outspreads at your feet; the color is indescribable in words, the
+atmosphere thrills you.  Youth and the pulse of rioting blood are
+yours again, until, as you near the heights, you become strangely
+calmed by the voiceless silence of it all--a silence so holy that
+it seems the whole world about you is swinging its censer before
+an altar in some dim remote cathedral!  The choir-voices of the
+Tulameen are yet very far away across the summit, but the heights of
+the Nicola are the silent prayer that holds the human soul before
+the first great chords swell down from the organ-loft.  In this
+first long climb up miles and miles of trail, even the staccato of
+the drivers' long black-snake whip is hushed.  He lets his animals
+pick their own sure-footed way, but once across the summit he
+gathers the reins in his steely fingers, gives a low, quick whistle,
+the whiplash curls about the ears of the leaders and the plunge down
+the dip of the mountain begins.  Every foot of the way is done at
+a gallop.  The coach rocks and swings as it dashes through a trail
+rough-hewn from the heart of the forest; at times the angles are so
+abrupt that you cannot see the heads of the leaders as they swing
+around the grey crags that almost scrape the tires on the left,
+while within a foot of the rim of the trail the right wheels whirl
+along the edge of a yawning canyon.  The rhythm of the hoof-beats,
+the recurrent low whistle and crack of the whiplash, the occasional
+rattle of pebbles showering down to the depths, loosened by rioting
+wheels, have broken the sacred silence.  Yet, above all those nearby
+sounds, there seems to be an indistinct murmur, which grows sweeter,
+more musical, as you gain the base of the mountains, where it rises
+above all harsher notes.  It is the voice of the restless Tulameen
+as it dances and laughs through the rocky throat of the canyon,
+three hundred feet below.  Then, following the song, comes a glimpse
+of the river itself--white-garmented in the film of its countless
+rapids, its showers of waterfalls.  It is as beautiful to look at as
+to listen to, and it is here, where the trail winds about and above
+it for leagues, that the Indians say it caught the spirit of the
+maiden that is still interlaced in its loveliness.
+
+It was in one of the terrible battles that raged between the valley
+tribes before the white man's footprints were seen along these
+trails.  None can now tell the cause of this warfare, but the
+supposition is that it was merely for tribal supremacy--that
+primeval instinct that assails the savage in both man and beast,
+that drives the hill-men to bloodshed and the leaders of buffalo
+herds to conflict.  It is the greed to rule; the one barbarous
+instinct that civilization has never yet been able to eradicate from
+armed nations.  This war of the tribes of the valley lands was of
+years in duration; men fought, and women mourned, and children wept,
+as all have done since time began.  It seemed an unequal battle,
+for the old, experienced, war-tried chief and his two astute sons
+were pitted against a single young Tulameen brave.  Both factors
+had their loyal followers, both were indomitable as to courage and
+bravery, both were determined and ambitious, both were skilled
+fighters.
+
+But on the older man's side were experience and two other wary,
+strategic brains to help him, while on the younger was but the
+advantage of splendid youth and unconquerable persistence.  But at
+every pitched battle, at every skirmish, at every single-handed
+conflict the younger man gained little by little, the older man lost
+step by step.  The experience of age was gradually but inevitably
+giving way to the strength and enthusiasm of youth.  Then, one day,
+they met face to face and alone--the old, war-scarred chief, the
+young battle-inspired brave.  It was an unequal combat, and at the
+close of a brief but violent struggle the younger had brought the
+older to his knees.  Standing over him with up-poised knife the
+Tulameen brave laughed sneeringly, and said:
+
+"Would you, my enemy, have this victory as your own?  If so, I give
+it to you; but in return for my submission I demand of you--your
+daughter."
+
+For an instant the old chief looked in wonderment at his conqueror;
+he thought of his daughter only as a child who played about the
+forest-trails or sat obediently beside her mother in the lodge,
+stitching her little moccasins or weaving her little baskets.
+
+"My daughter!" he answered sternly.  "My daughter--who is barely
+out of her own cradle-basket--give her to you, whose hands are
+blood-dyed with the killing of a score of my tribe?  You ask for
+this thing?"
+
+"I do not ask it," replied the young brave.  "I demand it; I have
+seen the girl and I shall have her."
+
+The old chief sprang to his feet and spat out his refusal.  "Keep
+your victory, and I keep my girl-child," though he knew he was not
+only defying his enemy, but defying death as well.
+
+The Tulameen laughed lightly, easily.  "I shall not kill the sire
+of my wife," he taunted.  "One more battle must we have, but your
+girl-child will come to me."
+
+Then he took his victorious way up the trail, while the old chief
+walked with slow and springless step down into the canyon.
+
+The next morning the chief's daughter was loitering along the
+heights, listening to the singing river, and sometimes leaning over
+the precipice to watch its curling eddies and dancing waterfalls.
+Suddenly she heard a slight rustle, as though some passing bird's
+wing had clipt the air.  Then at her feet there fell a slender,
+delicately shaped arrow.  It fell with spent force, and her Indian
+woodcraft told her it had been shot to her, not at her.  She started
+like a wild animal.  Then her quick eye caught the outline of a
+handsome, erect figure that stood on the heights across the river.
+She did not know him as her father's enemy.  She only saw him to be
+young, stalwart, and of extraordinary manly beauty.  The spirit of
+youth and of a certain savage coquetry awoke within her.  Quickly
+she fitted one of her own dainty arrows to the bow-string and sent
+it winging across the narrow canyon; it fell, spent, at his feet,
+and he knew she had shot it to him, not at him.
+
+Next morning, woman-like, she crept noiselessly to the brink of the
+heights.  Would she see him again--that handsome brave?  Would he
+speed another arrow to her?  She had not yet emerged from the tangle
+of forest before it fell, its faint-winged flight heralding its
+coming.  Near the feathered end was tied a tassel of beautiful
+ermine-tails.  She took from her wrist a string of shell beads,
+fastened it to one of her little arrows, and winged it across the
+canyon, as yesterday.
+
+The following morning, before leaving the lodge, she fastened the
+tassel of ermine-tails in her straight black hair.  Would he see
+them?  But no arrow fell at her feet that day, but a dearer message
+was there on the brink of the precipice.  He himself awaited her
+coming--he who had never left her thoughts since that first arrow
+came to her from his bow-string.  His eyes burned with warm fires,
+as she approached, but his lips said simply: "I have crossed the
+Tulameen River."  Together they stood, side by side, and looked down
+at the depths before them, watching in silence the little torrent
+rollicking and roystering over its boulders and crags.
+
+"That is my country," he said, looking across the river.  "This
+is the country of your father, and of your brothers; they are my
+enemies.  I return to my own shore to-night.  Will you come with me?"
+
+She looked up into his handsome young face.  So this was her
+father's foe--the dreaded Tulameen!
+
+"Will you come?" he repeated.
+
+"I will come," she whispered.
+
+It was in the dark of the moon and through the kindly night he led
+her far up the rocky shores to the narrow belt of quiet waters,
+where they crossed in silence into his own country.  A week, a
+month, a long golden summer, slipped by, but the insulted old
+chief and his enraged sons failed to find her.
+
+Then, one morning, as the lovers walked together on the heights above
+the far upper reaches of the river, even the ever-watchful eyes
+of the Tulameen failed to detect the lurking enemy.  Across the
+narrow canyon crouched and crept the two outwitted brothers of the
+girl-wife at his side; their arrows were on their bow-strings, their
+hearts on fire with hatred and vengeance.  Like two evil-winged
+birds of prey those arrows sped across the laughing river, but
+before they found their mark in the breast of the victorious
+Tulameen the girl had unconsciously stepped before him.  With a
+little sigh, she slipped into his arms, her brothers' arrows
+buried into her soft, brown flesh.
+
+It was many a moon before his avenging hand succeeded in slaying
+the old chief and those two hated sons of his.  But when this was
+finally done the handsome young Tulameen left his people, his tribe,
+his country, and went into the far north.  "For," he said, as he
+sang his farewell war-song, "my heart lies dead in the Tulameen
+River."
+
+  *     *     *     *     *
+
+But the spirit of his girl-wife still sings through the canyon, its
+song blending with the music of that sweetest-voiced river in all
+the great valleys of the Dry Belt.  That is why this laughter, the
+sobbing murmur of the beautiful Tulameen, will haunt for evermore
+the ear that has once listened to its song.
+
+
+
+
+
+THE GREY ARCHWAY
+
+
+The steamer, like a huge shuttle, wove in and out among the
+countless small islands; its long trailing scarf of grey smoke
+hung heavily along the uncertain shores, casting a shadow over the
+pearly waters of the Pacific, which swung lazily from rock to rock
+in indescribable beauty.
+
+After dinner I wandered astern with the traveller's ever-present
+hope of seeing the beauties of a typical Northern sunset, and by
+some happy chance I placed my deck-stool near an old tillicum, who
+was leaning on the rail, his pipe between his thin, curved lips, his
+brown hands clasped idly, his sombre eyes looking far out to sea,
+as though they searched the future--or was it that they were seeing
+the past?
+
+"Kla-how-ya, tillicum!" I greeted.
+
+He glanced round, and half smiled.
+
+"Kla-how-ya, tillicum!" he replied, with the warmth of friendliness
+I have always met with among the Pacific tribes.
+
+I drew my deck-stool nearer to him, and he acknowledged the action
+with another half smile, but did not stir from his entrenchment,
+remaining as if hedged about with an inviolable fortress of
+exclusiveness.  Yet I knew that my Chinook salutation would be a
+drawbridge by which I might hope to cross the moat into his castle
+of silence.
+
+Indian-like, he took his time before continuing the acquaintance.
+Then he began in most excellent English:
+
+"You do not know these northern waters?"
+
+I shook my head.
+
+After many moments he leaned forward, looking along the curve of
+the deck, up the channels and narrows we were threading, to a
+broad strip of waters off the port bow.  Then he pointed with
+that peculiar, thoroughly Indian gesture of the palm uppermost.
+
+"Do you see it--over there?  The small island?  It rests on the
+edge of the water, like a grey gull."
+
+It took my unaccustomed eyes some moments to discern it; then all at
+once I caught its outline, veiled in the mists of distance--grey,
+cobwebby, dreamy.
+
+"Yes," I replied, "I see it now.  You will tell me of it--tillicum?"
+
+He gave a swift glance at my dark skin, then nodded.  "You are
+one of us," he said, with evidently no thought of a possible
+contradiction.  "And you will understand, or I should not tell
+you.  You will not smile at the story, for you are one of us."
+
+"I am one of you, and I shall understand," I answered.
+
+It was a full half-hour before we neared the island, yet neither of
+us spoke during that time; then, as the "grey gull" shaped itself
+into rock and tree and crag, I noticed in the very centre a
+stupendous pile of stone lifting itself skyward, without fissure or
+cleft; but a peculiar haziness about the base made me peer narrowly
+to catch the perfect outline.
+
+"It is the 'Grey Archway,'" he explained, simply.
+
+Only then did I grasp the singular formation before us: the rock
+was a perfect archway, through which we could see the placid
+Pacific shimmering in the growing colors of the coming sunset at
+the opposite rim of the island.
+
+"What a remarkable whim of Nature!" I exclaimed, but his brown hand
+was laid in a contradictory grasp on my arm, and he snatched up my
+comment almost with impatience.
+
+"No, it was not Nature," he said.  "That is the reason I say you
+will understand--you are one of us--you will know what I tell you is
+true.  The Great Tyee did not make that archway, it was--" here his
+voice lowered--"it was magic, red man's medicine and magic--you
+savvy?"
+
+"Yes," I said.  "Tell me, for I--savvy."
+
+"Long time ago," he began, stumbling into a half-broken English
+language, because, I think, of the atmosphere and environment, "long
+before you were born, or your father, or grandfather, or even his
+father, this strange thing happened.  It is a story for women to
+hear, to remember.  Women are the future mothers of the tribe,
+and we of the Pacific Coast hold such in high regard, in great
+reverence.  The women who are mothers--o-ho!--they are the important
+ones, we say.  Warriors, fighters, brave men, fearless daughters, owe
+their qualities to these mothers--eh, is it not always so?"
+
+I nodded silently.  The island was swinging nearer to us, the
+"Grey Archway" loomed almost above us, the mysticism crowded close,
+it enveloped me, caressed me, appealed to me.
+
+"And?" I hinted.
+
+"And," he proceeded, "this 'Grey Archway' is a story of mothers,
+of magic, of witchcraft, of warriors, of--love."
+
+An Indian rarely uses the word "love," and when he does it expresses
+every quality, every attribute, every intensity, emotion, and passion
+embraced in those four little letters.  Surely this was an
+exceptional story I was to hear.
+
+I did not answer, only looked across the pulsing waters toward
+the "Grey Archway," which the sinking sun was touching with soft
+pastels, tints one could give no name to, beauties impossible to
+describe.
+
+"You have not heard of Yaada?" he questioned.  Then, fortunately,
+he continued without waiting for a reply.  He well knew that I
+had never heard of Yaada, so why not begin without preliminary to
+tell me of her?--so--
+
+"Yaada was the loveliest daughter of the Haida tribe.  Young braves
+from all the islands, from the mainland, from the upper Skeena
+country, came, hoping to carry her to their far-off lodges, but they
+always returned alone.  She was the most desired of all the island
+maidens, beautiful, brave, modest, the daughter of her own mother.
+
+"But there was a great man, a very great man--a medicine-man,
+skilful, powerful, influential, old, deplorably old, and very, very
+rich; he said, 'Yaada shall be my wife.'  And there was a young
+fisherman, handsome, loyal, boyish, poor, oh! very poor, and
+gloriously young, and he, too, said, 'Yaada shall be my wife.'
+
+"But Yaada's mother sat apart and thought and dreamed, as mothers
+will.  She said to herself, 'The great medicine-man has power, has
+vast riches, and wonderful magic, why not give her to him?  But
+Ulka has the boy's heart, the boy's beauty; he is very brave, very
+strong; why not give her to him?'
+
+"But the laws of the great Haida tribe prevailed.  Its wise men
+said, 'Give the girl to the greatest man, give her to the most
+powerful, the richest.  The man of magic must have his choice.'
+
+"But at this the mother's heart grew as wax in the summer
+sunshine--it is a strange quality that mothers' hearts are made of!
+'Give her to the best man--the man her heart holds highest,' said
+this Haida mother.
+
+"Then Yaada spoke: 'I am the daughter of my tribe; I would judge of
+men by their excellence.  He who proves most worthy I shall marry;
+it is not riches that make a good husband; it is not beauty that
+makes a good father for one's children.  Let me and my tribe see
+some proof of the excellence of these two men--then, only, shall I
+choose who is to be the father of my children.  Let us have a trial
+of their skill; let them show me how evil or how beautiful is the
+inside of their hearts.  Let each of them throw a stone with some
+intent, some purpose in their hearts.  He who makes the noblest mark
+may call me wife.'
+
+"'Alas!  Alas!' wailed the Haida mother. 'This casting of stones
+does not show worth.  It but shows prowess.'
+
+"'But I have implored the Sagalie Tyee of my father, and of his
+fathers before him, to help me to judge between them by this means,'
+said the girl.  'So they must cast the stones.  In this way only
+shall I see their innermost hearts.'
+
+"The medicine-man never looked so old as at that moment; so
+hopelessly old, so wrinkled, so palsied: he was no mate for Yaada.
+Ulka never looked so god-like in his young beauty, so gloriously
+young, so courageous.  The girl, looking at him, loved him--almost
+was she placing her hand in his, but the spirit of her forefathers
+halted her.  She had spoken the word--she must abide by it.
+'Throw!' she commanded.
+
+"Into his shrivelled fingers the great medicine-man took a small,
+round stone, chanting strange words of magic all the while; his
+greedy eyes were on the girl, his greedy thoughts about her.
+
+"Into his strong young fingers Ulka took a smooth, flat stone; his
+handsome eyes were lowered in boyish modesty, his thoughts were
+worshipping her.  The great medicine-man cast his missile first; it
+swept through the air like a shaft of lightning, striking the great
+rock with a force that shattered it.  At the touch of that stone
+the 'Grey Archway' opened and has remained open to this day.
+
+"'Oh, wonderful power and magic!' clamored the entire tribe.
+'The very rocks do his bidding.'
+
+"But Yaada stood with eyes that burned in agony.  Ulka could never
+command such magic--she knew it.  But at her side Ulka was standing
+erect, tall, slender, and beautiful, but just as he cast his missile
+the evil voice of the old medicine-man began a still more evil
+incantation.  He fixed his poisonous eyes on the younger man, eyes
+with hideous magic in their depths--ill-omened and enchanted with
+'bad medicine.'  The stone left Ulka's fingers; for a second it flew
+forth in a straight line, then, as the evil voice of the old man grew
+louder in its incantations, the stone curved.  Magic had waylaid the
+strong arm of the young brave.  The stone poised an instant above
+the forehead of Yaada's mother, then dropped with the weight of many
+mountains, and the last long sleep fell upon her.
+
+"'Slayer of my mother!' stormed the girl, her suffering eyes fixed
+upon the medicine-man.  'Oh, I now see your black heart through your
+black magic.  Through good magic you cut the "Grey Archway," but
+your evil magic you used upon young Ulka.  I saw your wicked eyes
+upon him; I heard your wicked incantations; I know your wicked
+heart.  You used your heartless magic in hope of winning me--in
+hope of making him an outcast of the tribe.  You cared not for my
+sorrowing heart, my motherless life to come.'  Then, turning to the
+tribe, she demanded: 'Who of you saw his evil eyes fixed on Ulka?
+Who of you heard his evil song?'
+
+"'I,' and 'I,' and 'I,' came voice after voice.
+
+"'The very air is poisoned that we breathe about him,' they
+shouted.  'The young man is blameless, his heart is as the sun;
+but the man who has used his evil magic has a heart black and cold
+as the hours before the dawn.'
+
+"Then Yaada's voice arose in a strange, sweet, sorrowful chant:
+
+
+  My feet shall walk no more upon this island,
+    With its great, Grey Archway.
+  My mother sleeps forever on this island,
+    With its great, Grey Archway.
+  My heart would break without her on this island,
+    With its great, Grey Archway.
+
+  My life was of her life upon this island,
+    With its great, Grey Archway.
+  My mother's soul has wandered from this island,
+    With its great, Grey Archway.
+  My feet must follow hers beyond this island,
+    With its great, Grey Archway.
+
+
+"As Yaada chanted and wailed her farewell she moved slowly towards
+the edge of the cliff.  On its brink she hovered a moment with
+outstretched arms, as a sea gull poises on its weight--then she
+called:
+
+"'Ulka, my Ulka!  Your hand is innocent of wrong; it was the evil
+magic of your rival that slew my mother.  I must go to her; even you
+cannot keep me here; will you stay, or come with me?  Oh! my Ulka!'
+
+"The slender, gloriously young boy sprang toward her; their hands
+closed one within the other; for a second they poised on the brink
+of the rocks, radiant as stars; then together they plunged into
+the sea."
+
+  *     *     *     *     *
+
+The legend was ended.  Long ago we had passed the island with its
+"Grey Archway"; it was melting into the twilight, far astern.
+
+As I brooded over this strange tale of a daughter's devotion, I
+watched the sea and sky for something that would give me a clue
+to the inevitable sequel that the tillicum, like all his race,
+was surely withholding until the opportune moment.
+
+Something flashed through the darkening waters not a stone's-throw
+from the steamer.  I leaned forward, watching it intently.  Two
+silvery fish were making a succession of little leaps and plunges
+along the surface of the sea, their bodies catching the last tints
+of sunset, like flashing jewels.  I looked at the tillicum quickly.
+He was watching me--a world of anxiety in his half-mournful eyes.
+
+"And those two silvery fish?" I questioned.
+
+He smiled.  The anxious look vanished.  "I was right," he said; "you
+do know us and our ways, for you are one of us.  Yes, those fish are
+seen only in these waters; there are never but two of them.  They
+are Yaada and her mate, seeking for the soul of the Haida woman--her
+mother."
+
+
+
+
+
+DEADMAN'S ISLAND
+
+
+  It is dusk on the Lost Lagoon,
+  And we two dreaming the dusk away,
+  Beneath the drift of a twilight grey--
+  Beneath the drowse of an ending day
+  And the curve of a golden moon.
+
+  It is dark in the Lost Lagoon,
+  And gone are the depths of haunting blue,
+  The grouping gulls, and the old canoe,
+  The singing firs, and the dusk and--you,
+  And gone is the golden moon.
+
+  O! lure of the Lost Lagoon--
+  I dream to-night that my paddle blurs
+  The purple shade where the seaweed stirs--
+  I hear the call of the singing firs
+  In the hush of the golden moon.
+
+For many minutes we stood silently, leaning on the western rail of
+the bridge as we watched the sunset across that beautiful little
+basin of water known as Coal Harbor.  I have always resented that
+jarring, unattractive name, for years ago, when I first plied paddle
+across the gunwale of a light little canoe, and idled about its
+margin, I named the sheltered little cove the Lost Lagoon.  This
+was just to please my own fancy, for, as that perfect summer month
+drifted on, the ever-restless tides left the harbor devoid of water
+at my favorite canoeing hour, and my pet idling-place was lost for
+many days--hence my fancy to call it the Lost Lagoon.  But the
+chief, Indian-like, immediately adopted the name, at least when he
+spoke of the place to me, and, as we watched the sun slip behind the
+rim of firs, he expressed the wish that his dug-out were here instead
+of lying beached at the farther side of the park.
+
+"If canoe was here, you and I we paddle close to shores all 'round
+your Lost Lagoon: we make track just like half-moon.  Then we paddle
+under this bridge, and go channel between Deadman's Island and
+park.  Then 'round where cannon speak time at nine o'clock.  Then
+'cross Inlet to Indian side of Narrows."
+
+I turned to look eastward, following in fancy the course he had
+sketched. The waters were still as the footsteps of the oncoming
+twilight, and, floating in a pool of soft purple, Deadman's Island
+rested like a large circle of candle-moss.
+
+"Have you ever been on it?" he asked as he caught my gaze centering
+on the irregular outline of the island pines.
+
+"I have prowled the length and depth of it," I told him, "climbed
+over every rock on its shores, crept under every tangled growth of
+its interior, explored its overgrown trails, and more than once
+nearly got lost in its very heart."
+
+"Yes," he half laughed, "it pretty wild; not much good for
+anything."
+
+"People seem to think it valuable," I said.  "There is a lot of
+litigation--of fighting going on now about it."
+
+"Oh! that the way always," he said, as though speaking of a long
+accepted fact.  "Always fight over that place.  Hundreds of years
+ago they fight about it; Indian people; they say hundreds of years
+to come everybody will still fight--never be settled what that
+place is, who it belong to, who has right to it.  No, never settle.
+Deadman's Island always mean fight for someone."
+
+"So the Indians fought amongst themselves about it?" I remarked,
+seemingly without guile, although my ears tingled for the legend
+I knew was coming.
+
+"Fought like lynx at close quarters," he answered.  "Fought, killed
+each other, until the island ran with blood redder than that sunset,
+and the sea-water about it was stained flame color--it was then,
+my people say, that the scarlet fire-flower was first seen growing
+along this coast."
+
+"It is a beautiful color--the fire-flower," I said.
+
+"It should be fine color, for it was born and grew from the hearts
+of fine tribes-people--very fine people," he emphasized.
+
+We crossed to the eastern rail of the bridge, and stood watching the
+deep shadows that gathered slowly and silently about the island; I
+have seldom looked upon anything more peaceful.
+
+The chief sighed.  "We have no such men now, no fighters like those
+men, no hearts, no courage like theirs.  But I tell you the story;
+you understand it then.  Now all peace; to-night all good tillicums;
+even dead man's spirit does not fight now, but long time after it
+happen those spirits fought."
+
+"And the legend?" I ventured.
+
+"Oh! yes," he replied, as if suddenly returning to the present from
+out a far country in the realm of time.  "Indian people, they call
+it the 'Legend of the Island of Dead Men.'
+
+"There was war everywhere.  Fierce tribes from the northern coast,
+savage tribes from the south, all met here and battled and raided,
+burned and captured, tortured and killed their enemies.  The forests
+smoked with camp-fires, the Narrows were choked with war-canoes, and
+the Sagalie Tyee--He who is a man of peace--turned His face away
+from His Indian children.  About this island there was dispute and
+contention.  The medicine-men from the North claimed it as their
+chanting-ground.  The medicine-men from the South laid equal claim
+to it.  Each wanted it as the stronghold of their witchcraft, their
+magic.  Great bands of these medicine-men met on the small space,
+using every sorcery in their power to drive their opponents away.
+The witch-doctors of the North made their camp on the northern rim
+of the island; those from the South settled along the southern edge,
+looking towards what is now the great city of Vancouver.  Both
+factions danced, chanted, burned their magic powders, built their
+magic fires, beat their magic rattles, but neither would give way,
+yet neither conquered.  About them, on the waters, on the mainlands,
+raged the warfare of their respective tribes--the Sagalie Tyee had
+forgotten His Indian children.
+
+"After many months, the warriors on both sides weakened.  They said
+the incantations of the rival medicine-men were bewitching them,
+were making their hearts like children's, and their arms nerveless
+as women's.  So friend and foe arose as one man and drove the
+medicine-men from the island, hounded them down the Inlet, herded
+them through the Narrows, and banished them out to sea, where they
+took refuge on one of the outer islands of the gulf.  Then the
+tribes once more fell upon each other in battle.
+
+"The warrior blood of the North will always conquer.  They are
+the stronger, bolder, more alert, more keen.  The snows and the
+ice of their country make swifter pulse than the sleepy suns of
+the South can awake in a man; their muscles are of sterner stuff,
+their endurance greater.  Yes, the northern tribes will always be
+victors.*  But the craft and the strategy of the southern tribes
+are hard things to battle against.  While those of the North
+followed the medicine-men farther out to sea to make sure of their
+banishment, those from the South returned under cover of night and
+seized the women and children and the old, enfeebled men in their
+enemy's camp, transported them all to the Island of Dead Men, and
+there held them as captives.  Their war-canoes circled the island
+like a fortification, through which drifted the sobs of the
+imprisoned women, the mutterings of the aged men, the wail of
+little children.
+
+* Note.--It would almost seem that the chief knew that wonderful poem
+of "The Khan's," "The Men of the Northern Zone," wherein he says:
+
+  If ever a Northman lost a throne
+  Did the conqueror come from the South?
+  Nay, the North shall ever be free ... etc.
+
+
+"Again and again the men of the North assailed that circle of
+canoes, and again and again were repulsed.  The air was thick with
+poisoned arrows, the water stained with blood.  But day by day the
+circle of southern canoes grew thinner and thinner; the northern
+arrows were telling, and truer of aim.  Canoes drifted everywhere,
+empty, or, worse still, manned only by dead men.  The pick of the
+southern warriors had already fallen, when their greatest Tyee
+mounted a large rock on the eastern shore.  Brave and unmindful of
+a thousand weapons aimed at his heart, he uplifted his hand, palm
+outward--the signal for conference.  Instantly every northern arrow
+was lowered, and every northern ear listened for his words.
+
+"'Oh! men of the upper coast,' he said, 'you are more numerous
+than we are; your tribe is larger, your endurance greater.  We are
+growing hungry, we are growing less in numbers.  Our captives--your
+women and children and old men--have lessened, too, our stores of
+food.  If you refuse our terms we will yet fight to the finish.
+To-morrow we will kill all our captives before your eyes, for we can
+feed them no longer, or you can have your wives, your mothers, your
+fathers, your children, by giving us for each and every one of them
+one of your best and bravest young warriors, who will consent to
+suffer death in their stead.  Speak!  You have your choice.'
+
+"In the northern canoes scores and scores of young warriors leapt
+to their feet.  The air was filled with glad cries, with exultant
+shouts.  The whole world seemed to ring with the voices of those
+young men who called loudly, with glorious courage:
+
+"'Take me, but give me back my old father.'
+
+"'Take me, but spare to my tribe my little sister.'
+
+"'Take me, but release my wife and boy-baby.'
+
+"So the compact was made.  Two hundred heroic, magnificent young men
+paddled up to the island, broke through the fortifying circle of
+canoes, and stepped ashore.  They flaunted their eagle plumes with
+the spirit and boldness of young gods.  Their shoulders were erect,
+their step was firm, their hearts strong.  Into their canoes they
+crowded the two hundred captives.  Once more their women sobbed,
+their old men muttered, their children wailed, but those young
+copper-colored gods never flinched, never faltered.  Their weak and
+their feeble were saved.  What mattered to them such a little thing
+as death?
+
+"The released captives were quickly surrounded by their own people,
+but the flower of their splendid nation was in the hands of their
+enemies, those valorous young men who thought so little of life that
+they willingly, gladly laid it down to serve and to save those they
+loved and cared for.  Amongst them were war-tried warriors who had
+fought fifty battles, and boys not yet full grown, who were drawing
+a bow-string for the first time; but their hearts, their courage,
+their self-sacrifice were as one.
+
+"Out before a long file of southern warriors they stood.  Their
+chins uplifted, their eyes defiant, their breasts bared.  Each
+leaned forward and laid his weapons at his feet, then stood erect,
+with empty hands, and laughed forth his challenge to death.
+A thousand arrows ripped the air, two hundred gallant northern
+throats flung forth a death cry exultant, triumphant as conquering
+kings--then two hundred fearless northern hearts ceased to beat.
+
+"But in the morning the southern tribes found the spot where they
+fell peopled with flaming fire-flowers.  Dread terror seized upon
+them.  They abandoned the island, and when night again shrouded
+them they manned their canoes and noiselessly slipped through the
+Narrows, turned their bows southward, and this coast-line knew
+them no more."
+
+"What glorious men!" I half whispered as the chief concluded the
+strange legend.
+
+"Yes, men!" he echoed.  "The white people call it Deadman's Island.
+That is their way; but we of the Squamish call it The Island of
+Dead Men."
+
+The clustering pines and the outlines of the island's margin were
+now dusky and indistinct.  Peace, peace lay over the waters, and the
+purple of the summer twilight had turned to grey, but I knew that in
+the depths of the undergrowth on Deadman's Island there blossomed
+a flower of flaming beauty; its colors were veiled in the coming
+nightfall, but somewhere down in the sanctuary of its petals pulsed
+the heart's blood of many and valiant men.
+
+
+
+
+
+A SQUAMISH LEGEND OF NAPOLEON
+
+
+Holding an important place among the majority of curious tales held
+in veneration by the coast tribes are those of the sea-serpent.  The
+monster appears and reappears with almost monotonous frequency in
+connection with history, traditions, legends and superstitions; but
+perhaps the most wonderful part it ever played was in the great
+drama that held the stage of Europe, and incidentally all the world
+during the stormy days of the first Napoleon.
+
+Throughout Canada I have never failed to find an amazing knowledge
+of Napoleon Bonaparte amongst the very old and "uncivilized"
+Indians.  Perhaps they may be unfamiliar with every other historical
+character from Adam down, but they will all tell you they have heard
+of the "Great French Fighter," as they call the wonderful little
+Corsican.
+
+Whether this knowledge was obtained through the fact that our
+earliest settlers and pioneers were French, or whether Napoleon's
+almost magical fighting career attracted the Indian mind to the
+exclusion of lesser warriors, I have never yet decided.  But the
+fact remains that the Indians of our generation are not as familiar
+with Bonaparte's name as were their fathers and grandfathers,
+so either the predominance of English-speaking settlers or the
+thinning of their ancient war-loving blood by modern civilization
+and peaceful times must, one or the other, account for the younger
+Indian's ignorance of the Emperor of the French.
+
+In telling me the legend of "The Lost Talisman," my good tillicum,
+the late Chief Capilano, began the story with the almost amazing
+question, Had I ever heard of Napoleon Bonaparte?  It was some
+moments before I just caught the name, for his English, always
+quaint and beautiful, was at times a little halting; but when he
+said, by way of explanation, "You know big fighter, Frenchman.
+The English they beat him in big battle," I grasped immediately
+of whom he spoke.
+
+"What do you know of him?" I asked.
+
+His voice lowered, almost as if he spoke a state secret.  "I know
+how it is that English they beat him."
+
+I have read many historians on this event, but to hear the Squamish
+version was a novel and absorbing thing.  "Yes?" I said--my usual
+"leading" word to lure him into channels of tradition.
+
+"Yes," he affirmed.  Then, still in a half-whisper, he proceeded to
+tell me that it all happened through the agency of a single joint
+from the vertebra of a sea-serpent.
+
+In telling me the story of Brockton Point and the valiant boy
+who killed the monster, he dwelt lightly on the fact that all
+people who approach the vicinity of the creature are palsied,
+both mentally and physically--bewitched, in fact--so that their
+bones become disjointed and their brains incapable; but to-day he
+elaborated upon this peculiarity until I harked back to the boy
+of Brockton Point and asked how it was that his body and brain
+escaped this affliction.
+
+"He was all good, and had no greed," he replied.  "He was proof
+against all bad things."
+
+I nodded understandingly, and he proceeded to tell me that all
+successful Indian fighters and warriors carried somewhere about
+their person a joint of a sea-serpent's vertebra; that the
+medicine-men threw "the power" about them so that they were not
+personally affected by this little "charm," but that immediately
+they approached an enemy the "charm" worked disaster, and victory
+was assured to the fortunate possessor of the talisman.  There was
+one particularly effective joint that had been treasured and
+carried by the warriors of a great Squamish family for a century.
+These warriors had conquered every foe they encountered, until
+the talisman had become so renowned that the totem-pole of their
+entire "clan" was remodelled, and the new one crested by the
+figure of a single joint of a sea-serpent's vertebra.
+
+About this time stories of Napoleon's first great achievements
+drifted across the seas; not across the land--and just here may
+be a clue to buried Coast-Indian history, which those who are
+cleverer at research than I can puzzle over.  The chief was most
+emphatic about the source of Indian knowledge of Napoleon.
+
+"I suppose you heard of him from Quebec, through, perhaps, some
+of the French priests," I remarked.
+
+"No, no," he contradicted hurriedly.  "Not from East; we hear it
+from over the Pacific from the place they call Russia."  But who
+conveyed the news or by what means it came he could not further
+enlighten me.  But a strange thing happened to the Squamish family
+about this time.  There was a large blood connection, but the only
+male member living was a very old warrior, the hero of many battles
+and the possessor of the talisman.  On his death-bed his women of
+three generations gathered about him; his wife, his sisters, his
+daughters, his granddaughters, but not one man, nor yet a boy of
+his own blood, stood by to speed his departing warrior spirit to
+the land of peace and plenty.
+
+"The charm cannot rest in the hands of women," he murmured almost
+with his last breath.  "Women may not war and fight other nations or
+other tribes; women are for the peaceful lodge and for the leading
+of little children.  They are for holding baby hands, teaching baby
+feet to walk.  No, the charm cannot rest with you, women.  I have
+no brother, no cousin, no son, no grandson, and the charm must not
+go to a lesser warrior than I.  None of our tribe, nor of any tribe
+on the coast, ever conquered me.  The charm must go to one as
+unconquerable as I have been.  When I am dead send it across the
+great salt chuck, to the victorious 'Frenchman'; they call him
+Napoleon Bonaparte."  They were his last words.
+
+The older women wished to bury the charm with him, but the younger
+women, inspired with the spirit of their generation, were determined
+to send it over-seas.  "In the grave it will be dead," they argued.
+"Let it still live on.  Let it help some other fighter to greatness
+and victory."
+
+As if to confirm their decision, the next day a small sealing-vessel
+anchored in the Inlet.  All the men aboard spoke Russian, save
+two thin, dark, agile sailors, who kept aloof from the crew and
+conversed in another language.  These two came ashore with part of
+the crew and talked in French with a wandering Hudson's Bay trapper,
+who often lodged with the Squamish people.  Thus the women, who yet
+mourned over their dead warrior, knew these two strangers to be
+from the land where the great "Frenchman" was fighting against
+the world.
+
+Here I interrupted the chief.  "How came the Frenchmen in a Russian
+sealer?" I asked.
+
+"Captives," he replied.  "Almost slaves, and hated by their captors,
+as the majority always hate the few.  So the women drew those two
+Frenchmen apart from the rest and told them the story of the bone of
+the sea-serpent, urging them to carry it back to their own country
+and give it to the great 'Frenchman' who was as courageous and as
+brave as their dead leader.
+
+"The Frenchmen hesitated; the talisman might affect them, they said;
+might jangle their own brains, so that on their return to Russia
+they would not have the sagacity to plan an escape to their own
+country; might disjoint their bodies, so that their feet and hands
+would be useless, and they would become as weak as children.  But
+the women assured them that the charm only worked its magical powers
+over a man's enemies, that the ancient medicine-men had 'bewitched'
+it with this quality.  So the Frenchmen took it and promised that if
+it were in the power of man they would convey it to 'the Emperor.'
+
+"As the crew boarded the sealer, the women watching from the shore
+observed strange contortions seize many of the men; some fell on
+the deck; some crouched, shaking as with palsy; some writhed for
+a moment, then fell limp and seemingly boneless; only the two
+Frenchmen stood erect and strong and vital--the Squamish talisman
+had already overcome their foes.  As the little sealer set sail
+up the gulf she was commanded by a crew of two Frenchmen--men who
+had entered these waters as captives, who were leaving them as
+conquerors.  The palsied Russians were worse than useless, and
+what became of them the chief could not state; presumably they
+were flung overboard, and by some trick of a kindly fate the
+Frenchmen at last reached the coast of France.
+
+"Tradition is so indefinite about their movements subsequent to
+sailing out of the Inlet that even the ever-romantic and vividly
+colored imaginations of the Squamish people have never supplied
+the details of this beautifully childish, yet strangely historical
+fairy-tale.  But the voices of the trumpets of war, the beat of drums
+throughout Europe heralded back to the wilds of the Pacific Coast
+forests the intelligence that the great Squamish 'charm' eventually
+reached the person of Napoleon; that from this time onward his
+career was one vast victory, that he won battle after battle,
+conquered nation after nation, and, but for the direst calamity
+that could befall a warrior, would eventually have been master of
+the world."
+
+"What was this calamity, Chief?" I asked, amazed at his knowledge
+of the great historical soldier and strategist.
+
+The chief's voice again lowered to a whisper--his face was almost
+rigid with intentness as he replied:
+
+"He lost the Squamish charm--lost it just before one great fight
+with the English people."
+
+I looked at him curiously; he had been telling me the oddest mixture
+of history and superstition, of intelligence and ignorance, the
+most whimsically absurd, yet impressive, tale I ever heard from
+Indian lips.
+
+"What was the name of the great fight--did you ever hear it?"
+I asked, wondering how much he knew of events which took place
+at the other side of the world a century agone.
+
+"Yes," he said, carefully, thoughtfully; "I hear the name sometime
+in London when I there.  Railroad station there--same name."
+
+"Was it Waterloo?" I asked.
+
+He nodded quickly, without a shadow of hesitation.  "That the one,"
+he replied.  "That's it, Waterloo."
+
+
+
+
+
+THE LURE IN STANLEY PARK
+
+
+There is a well-known trail in Stanley Park that leads to what I
+always love to call the "Cathedral Trees"--that group of some
+half-dozen forest giants that arch overhead with such superb
+loftiness.  But in all the world there is no cathedral whose marble
+or onyx columns can vie with those straight, clean, brown tree-boles
+that teem with the sap and blood of life.  There is no fresco that
+can rival the delicacy of lace-work they have festooned between
+you and the far skies.  No tiles, no mosaic or inlaid marbles, are
+as fascinating as the bare, russet, fragrant floor outspreading
+about their feet.  They are the acme of Nature's architecture, and
+in building them she has outrivalled all her erstwhile conceptions.
+She will never originate a more faultless design, never erect a more
+perfect edifice.  But the divinely moulded trees and the man-made
+cathedral have one exquisite characteristic in common.  It is the
+atmosphere of holiness.  Most of us have better impulses after
+viewing a stately cathedral, and none of us can stand amid that
+majestic forest group without experiencing some elevating
+thoughts, some refinement of our coarser nature.  Perhaps those who
+read this little legend will never again look at those cathedral
+trees without thinking of the glorious souls they contain, for
+according to the Coast Indians they do harbor human souls, and the
+world is better because they once had the speech and the hearts of
+mighty men.
+
+My tillicum did not use the word "lure" in telling me this legend.
+There is no equivalent for the word in the Chinook tongue, but the
+gestures of his voiceful hands so expressed the quality of something
+between magnetism and charm that I have selected this word "lure"
+as best fitting what he wished to convey.  Some few yards beyond
+the cathedral trees, an overgrown disused trail turns into the dense
+wilderness to the right.  Only Indian eyes could discern that trail,
+and the Indians do not willingly go to that part of the park to the
+right of the great group.  Nothing in this, nor yet the next world
+would tempt a Coast Indian into the compact centres of the wild
+portions of the park, for therein, concealed cunningly, is the
+"lure" they all believe in.  There is not a tribe in the entire
+district that does not know of this strange legend.  You will hear
+the tale from those that gather at Eagle Harbor for the fishing,
+from the Fraser River tribes, from the Squamish at the Narrows, from
+the Mission, from up the Inlet, even from the tribes at North Bend,
+but no one will volunteer to be your guide, for having once come
+within the "aura" of the lure it is a human impossibility to leave
+it.  Your will-power is dwarfed, your intelligence blighted, your
+feet will refuse to lead you out by a straight trail, you will
+circle, circle for evermore about this magnet, for if death kindly
+comes to your aid your immortal spirit will go on in that endless
+circling that will bar it from entering the Happy Hunting Grounds.
+
+And, like the cathedral trees, the lure once lived, a human soul,
+but in this instance it was a soul depraved, not sanctified.  The
+Indian belief is very beautiful concerning the results of good and
+evil in the human body.  The Sagalie Tyee [God] has His own way
+of immortalizing each.  People who are wilfully evil, who have no
+kindness in their hearts, who are bloodthirsty, cruel, vengeful,
+unsympathetic, the Sagalie Tyee turns to solid stone that will
+harbor no growth, even that of moss or lichen, for these stones
+contain no moisture, just as their wicked hearts lacked the milk of
+human kindness.  The one famed exception, wherein a good man was
+transformed into stone, was in the instance of Siwash Rock, but as
+the Indian tells you of it he smiles with gratification as he calls
+your attention to the tiny tree cresting that imperial monument.
+He says the tree was always there to show the nations that the good
+in this man's heart kept on growing even when his body had ceased
+to be.  On the other hand, the Sagalie Tyee transforms the kindly
+people, the humane, sympathetic, charitable, loving people into
+trees, so that after death they may go on forever benefiting all
+mankind; they may yield fruit, give shade and shelter, afford
+unending service to the living by their usefulness as building
+material and as firewood.  Their saps and gums, their fibres, their
+leaves, their blossoms, enrich, nourish, and sustain the human form;
+no evil is produced by trees--all, all is goodness, is hearty, is
+helpfulness and growth.  They give refuge to the birds, they give
+music to the winds, and from them are carved the bows and arrows,
+the canoes and paddles, bowls, spoons, and baskets.  Their service
+to mankind is priceless; the Indian that tells you this tale will
+enumerate all these attributes and virtues of the trees.  No
+wonder the Sagalie Tyee chose them to be the abode of souls good
+and great.
+
+But the lure in Stanley Park is that most dreaded of all things, an
+evil soul.  It is embodied in a bare, white stone, which is shunned
+by moss and vine and lichen, but over which are splashed innumerable
+jet-black spots that have eaten into the surface like an acid.
+
+This condemned soul once animated the body of a witch-woman, who
+went up and down the coast, over seas and far inland, casting her
+evil eye on innocent people, and bringing them untold evils and
+diseases.  About her person she carried the renowned "Bad Medicine"
+that every Indian believes in--medicine that weakened the arm of
+the warrior in battle, that caused deformities, that poisoned minds
+and characters, that engendered madness, that bred plagues and
+epidemics; in short, that was the seed of every evil that could
+befall mankind.  This witch-woman herself was immune from death;
+generations were born and grew to old age, and died, and other
+generations arose in their stead, but the witch-woman went about,
+her heart set against her kind. Her acts were evil, her purposes
+wicked. She broke hearts and bodies and souls; she gloried in tears,
+and revelled in unhappiness, and sent them broadcast wherever she
+wandered.  And in His high heaven the Sagalie Tyee wept with sorrow
+for His afflicted human children.  He dared not let her die, for
+her spirit would still go on with its evil doing.  In mighty anger
+He gave command to His Four Men (always representing the Deity)
+that they should turn this witch-woman into a stone and enchain
+her spirit in its centre, that the curse of her might be lifted
+from the unhappy race.
+
+So the Four Men entered their giant canoe, and headed, as was
+their custom, up the Narrows.  As they neared what is now known
+as Prospect Point they heard from the heights above them a laugh,
+and, looking up, they beheld the witch-woman jeering defiantly at
+them.  They landed, and, scaling the rocks, pursued her as she
+danced away, eluding them like a will-o'-the-wisp as she called
+out to them sneeringly:
+
+"Care for yourselves, oh! men of the Sagalie Tyee, or I shall blight
+you with my evil eye.  Care for yourselves and do not follow me."
+On and on she danced through the thickest of the wilderness, on and
+on they followed until they reached the very heart of the sea-girt
+neck of land we know as Stanley Park.  Then the tallest, the
+mightiest of the Four Men, lifted his hand and cried out: "Oh!
+woman of the stony heart, be stone for evermore, and bear forever
+a black stain for each one of your evil deeds."  And as he spoke
+the witch-woman was transformed into this stone that tradition says
+is in the centre of the park.
+
+Such is the "Legend of the Lure."  Whether or not this stone is really
+in existence who knows?  One thing is positive, however: no Indian
+will ever help to discover it.
+
+Three different Indians have told me that fifteen or eighteen years
+ago, two tourists--a man and a woman--were lost in Stanley Park.
+When found a week later the man was dead, the woman mad, and each
+of my informants firmly believed they had, in their wanderings,
+encountered "the stone" and were compelled to circle around it,
+because of its powerful lure.
+
+But this wild tale, fortunately, had a most beautiful conclusion.
+The Four Men, fearing that the evil heart imprisoned in the stone
+would still work destruction, said: "At the end of the trail we
+must place so good and great a thing that it will be mightier,
+stronger, more powerful than this evil."  So they chose from the
+nations the kindliest, most benevolent men, men whose hearts were
+filled with the love of their fellow-beings, and transformed these
+merciful souls into the stately group of "Cathedral Trees."
+
+How well the purpose of the Sagalie Tyee has wrought its effect
+through time!  The good has predominated, as He planned it to, for
+is not the stone hidden in some unknown part of the park where eyes
+do not see it and feet do not follow--and do not the thousands
+who come to us from the uttermost parts of the world seek that
+wondrous beauty spot, and stand awed by the majestic silence, the
+almost holiness of that group of giants?
+
+More than any other legend that the Indians about Vancouver have
+told me does this tale reveal the love of the coast native for
+kindness and his hatred of cruelty.  If these tribes really have
+ever been a warlike race I cannot think they pride themselves much
+on the occupation.  If you talk with any of them, and they mention
+some man they particularly like or admire, their first qualification
+of him is: "He's a kind man."  They never say he is brave, or rich,
+or successful, or even strong, that characteristic so loved by
+the red man.  To these coast tribes if a man is "kind" he is
+everything.  And almost without exception their legends deal with
+rewards for tenderness and self-abnegation, and personal and mental
+cleanliness.
+
+Call them fairy-tales if you wish to, they all have a reasonableness
+that must have originated in some mighty mind, and, better than that,
+they all tell of the Indian's faith in the survival of the best
+impulses of the human heart, and the ultimate extinction of the
+worst.
+
+In talking with my many good tillicums, I find this witch-woman
+legend is the most universally known and thoroughly believed in
+of all traditions they have honored me by revealing to me.
+
+
+
+
+
+DEER LAKE
+
+
+Few white men ventured inland, a century ago, in the days of the
+first Chief Capilano, when the spoils of the mighty Fraser River
+poured into copper-colored hands, but did not find their way to the
+remotest corners of the earth, as in our times, when the gold from
+its sources, the salmon from its mouth, the timber from its shores
+are world-known riches.
+
+The fisherman's craft, the hunter's cunning, were plied where now
+cities and industries, trade and commerce, buying and selling, hold
+sway.  In those days the moccasined foot awoke no echo in the forest
+trails.  Primitive weapons, arms, implements, and utensils were the
+only means of the Indians' food-getting.  His livelihood depended
+upon his own personal prowess, his skill in woodcraft and water
+lore.  And, as this is a story of an elk-bone spear, the reader must
+first be in sympathy with the fact that this rude instrument, most
+deftly fashioned, was of priceless value to the first Capilano, to
+whom it had come through three generations of ancestors, all of whom
+had been experienced hunters and dexterous fishermen.
+
+Capilano himself was without a rival as a spearman.  He knew the
+moods of the Fraser River, the habits of its thronging tenants, as
+no other man has ever known them before or since.  He knew every
+isle and inlet along the coast, every boulder, the sand-bars, the
+still pools, the temper of the tides.  He knew the spawning-grounds,
+the secret streams that fed the larger rivers, the outlets of
+rock-bound lakes, the turns and tricks of swirling rapids.  He
+knew the haunts of bird and beast and fish and fowl, and was
+master of the arts and artifice that man must use when matching
+his brain against the eluding wiles of the untamed creatures of
+the wilderness.
+
+Once only did his cunning fail him, once only did Nature baffle
+him with her mysterious fabric of waterways and land-lures.  It
+was when he was led to the mouth of the unknown river, which has
+evaded discovery through all the centuries, but which--so say the
+Indians--still sings on its way through some buried channel that
+leads from the lake to the sea.
+
+He had been sealing along the shores of what is now known as Point
+Grey.  His canoe had gradually crept inland, skirting up the coast
+to the mouth of False Creek.  Here he encountered a very king of
+seals, a colossal creature that gladdened the hunter's eyes as
+game worthy of his skill.  For this particular prize he would cast
+the elk-bone spear.  It had never failed his sire, his grandsire,
+his great-grandsire.  He knew it would not fail him now.  A long,
+pliable, cedar-fibre rope lay in his canoe.  Many expert fingers had
+woven and plaited the rope, had beaten and oiled it until it was
+soft and flexible as a serpent.  This he attached to the spearhead,
+and with deft, unerring aim cast it at the king seal.  The weapon
+struck home.  The gigantic creature shuddered, and, with a cry like
+a hurt child, it plunged down into the sea.  With the rapidity and
+strength of a giant fish it scudded inland with the rising tide,
+while Capilano paid out the rope its entire length, and, as it
+stretched taut, felt the canoe leap forward, propelled by the mighty
+strength of the creature which lashed the waters into whirlpools, as
+though it was possessed with the power and properties of a whale.
+
+Up the stretch of False Creek the man and monster drove their
+course, where a century hence great city bridges were to over-arch
+the waters.  They strove and struggled each for the mastery; neither
+of them weakened, neither of them faltered--the one dragging, the
+other driving.  In the end it was to be a matching of brute and
+human wits, not forces.  As they neared the point where now Main
+Street bridge flings its shadow across the waters, the brute
+leaped high into the air, then plunged headlong into the depths.
+The impact ripped the rope from Capilano's hands.  It rattled
+across the gunwale.  He stood staring at the spot where it had
+disappeared--the brute had been victorious.  At low tide the Indian
+made search.  No trace of his game, of his precious elk-bone spear,
+of his cedar-fibre rope, could be found.  With the loss of the
+latter he firmly believed his luck as a hunter would be gone.  So he
+patrolled the mouth of False Creek for many moons.  His graceful,
+high-bowed canoe rarely touched other waters, but the seal king had
+disappeared.  Often he thought long strands of drifting sea grasses
+were his lost cedar-fibre rope.  With other spears, with other
+cedar-fibres, with paddle-blade and cunning traps he dislodged the
+weeds from their moorings, but they slipped their slimy lengths
+through his eager hands: his best spear with its attendant coil
+was gone.
+
+The following year he was sealing again off the coast of Point Grey,
+and one night, after sunset, he observed the red reflection from the
+west, which seemed to transfer itself to the eastern skies.  Far
+into the night dashes of flaming scarlet pulsed far beyond the head
+of False Creek.  The color rose and fell like a beckoning hand, and,
+Indian-like, he immediately attached some portentous meaning to
+the unusual sight.  That it was some omen he never doubted, so he
+paddled inland, beached his canoe, and took the trail towards the
+little group of lakes that crowd themselves into the area that lies
+between the present cities of Vancouver and New Westminster.  But
+long before he reached the shores of Deer Lake he discovered that
+the beckoning hand was in reality flame.  The little body of water
+was surrounded by forest fires.  One avenue alone stood open.  It
+was a group of giant trees that as yet the flames had not reached.
+As he neared the point he saw a great moving mass of living things
+leaving the lake and hurrying northward through this one egress.  He
+stood, listening, intently watching with alert eyes; the zwirr of
+myriads of little travelling feet caught his quick ear--the moving
+mass was an immense colony of beaver.  Thousands upon thousands
+of them.  Scores of baby beavers staggered along, following their
+mothers; scores of older beavers that had felled trees and built
+dams through many seasons; a countless army of trekking fur-bearers,
+all under the generalship of a wise old leader, who, as king of the
+colony, advanced some few yards ahead of his battalions.  Out of
+the waters through the forest towards the country to the north they
+journeyed.  Wandering hunters said they saw them cross Burrard Inlet
+at the Second Narrows, heading inland as they reached the farther
+shore.  But where that mighty army of royal little Canadians set
+up their new colony no man knows.  Not even the astuteness of the
+first Capilano ever discovered their destination.  Only one thing
+was certain: Deer Lake knew them no more.
+
+After their passing the Indian retraced their trail to the water's
+edge.  In the red glare of the encircling fires he saw what he at
+first thought was some dead and dethroned king beaver on the shore.
+A huge carcass lay half in, half out, of the lake.  Approaching
+it, he saw the wasted body of a giant seal.  There could never be
+two seals of that marvellous size.  His intuition now grasped the
+meaning of the omen of the beckoning flame that had called him from
+the far coasts of Point Grey.  He stooped above his dead conqueror
+and found, embedded in its decaying flesh, the elk-bone spear of
+his forefathers, and, trailing away at the water's rim, was a long,
+flexible, cedar-fibre rope.
+
+As he extracted this treasured heirloom he felt the "power," that
+men of magic possess, creep up his sinewy arms.  It entered his
+heart, his blood, his brain.  For a long time he sat and chanted
+songs that only great medicine-men may sing, and, as the hours
+drifted by, the heat of the forest fires subsided, the flames
+diminished into smouldering blackness.  At daybreak the forest
+fire was dead, but its beckoning fingers had served their purpose.
+The magic elk-bone spear had come back to its own.
+
+Until the day of his death the first Capilano searched for the
+unknown river up which the seal travelled from False Creek to
+Deer Lake; but its channel is a secret that even Indian eyes have
+not seen.
+
+But although those of the Squamish tribe tell and believe that the
+river still sings through its hidden trail that leads from Deer Lake
+to the sea, its course is as unknown, its channel is as hopelessly
+lost as the brave little army of beavers that a century ago
+marshalled their forces and travelled up into the great lone north.
+
+
+
+
+
+A ROYAL MOHAWK CHIEF
+
+
+How many Canadians are aware that in Prince Arthur, Duke of
+Connaught, and only surviving son of Queen Victoria, who has been
+appointed to represent King George V. in Canada, they undoubtedly
+have what many wish for--one bearing an ancient Canadian title as
+Governor-General of all the Dominion?  It would be difficult to find
+a man more Canadian than any one of the fifty chiefs who compose
+the parliament of the ancient Iroquois nation, that loyal race of
+Redskins that has fought for the British crown against all of the
+enemies thereof, adhering to the British flag through the wars
+against both the French and the colonists.
+
+Arthur, Duke of Connaught, is the only living white man who to-day
+has an undisputed right to the title of "Chief of the Six Nations
+Indians" (known collectively as the Iroquois).  He possesses the
+privilege of sitting in their councils, of casting his vote on all
+matters relative to the governing of the tribes, the disposal of
+reservation lands, the appropriation of both the principal and
+interest of the more than half a million dollars these tribes hold
+in Government bonds at Ottawa, accumulated from the sales of their
+lands.  In short, were every drop of blood in his royal veins red,
+instead of blue, he could not be more fully qualified as an Indian
+chief than he now is, not even were his title one of the fifty
+hereditary ones whose illustrious names composed the Iroquois
+confederacy before the Paleface ever set foot in America.
+
+It was on the occasion of his first visit to Canada in 1869, when
+he was little more than a boy, that Prince Arthur received, upon
+his arrival at Quebec, an address of welcome from his royal mother's
+"Indian Children" on the Grand River Reserve, in Brant county,
+Ontario.  In addition to this welcome they had a request to make of
+him: would he accept the title of Chief and visit their reserve to
+give them the opportunity of conferring?
+
+One of the great secrets of England's success with savage races has
+been her consideration, her respect, her almost reverence of native
+customs, ceremonies, and potentates.  She wishes her own customs
+and kings to be honored, so she freely accords like honor to her
+subjects, it matters not whether they be white, black, or red.
+
+Young Arthur was delighted--royal lads are pretty much like all
+other boys; the unique ceremony would be a break in the endless
+round of state receptions, banquets, and addresses.  So he accepted
+the Red Indians' compliment, knowing well that it was the loftiest
+honor these people could confer upon a white man.
+
+It was the morning of October first when the royal train steamed
+into the little city of Brantford, where carriages awaited to
+take the Prince and his suite to the "Old Mohawk Church," in the
+vicinity of which the ceremony was to take place.  As the Prince's
+especial escort, Onwanonsyshon, head chief of the Mohawks, rode on a
+jet-black pony beside the carriage.  The chief was garmented in full
+native costume--a buckskin suit, beaded moccasins, headband of owl's
+and eagle's feathers, and ornaments hammered from coin silver that
+literally covered his coat and leggings.  About his shoulders was
+flung a scarlet blanket, consisting of the identical broadcloth from
+which the British army tunics are made; this he "hunched" with his
+shoulders from time to time in true Indian fashion.  As they drove
+along the Prince chatted boyishly with his Mohawk escort, and once
+leaned forward to pat the black pony on its shining neck and speak
+admiringly of it.  It was a warm autumn day: the roads were dry and
+dusty, and, after a mile or so, the boy-prince brought from beneath
+the carriage seat a basket of grapes.  With his handkerchief he
+flicked the dust from them, handed a bunch to the chief, and took
+one himself.  An odd spectacle to be traversing a country road: an
+English prince and an Indian chief, riding amicably side by side,
+enjoying a banquet of grapes like two school-boys.
+
+On reaching the church, Arthur leapt lightly to the greensward.
+For a moment he stood, rigid, gazing before him at his future
+brother-chiefs.  His escort had given him a faint idea of what
+he was to see, but he certainly never expected to be completely
+surrounded by three hundred full-blooded Iroquois braves and
+warriors, such as now encircled him on every side.  Every Indian
+was in war-paint and feathers, some stripped to the waist, their
+copper-colored skins brilliant with paints, dyes, and "patterns";
+all carried tomahawks, scalping-knives, and bows and arrows.  Every
+red throat gave a tremendous war-whoop as he alighted, which was
+repeated again and again, as for that half moment he stood silent, a
+slim, boyish figure, clad in light grey tweeds--a singular contrast
+to the stalwarts in gorgeous costumes who crowded about him.  His
+young face paled to ashy whiteness, then with true British grit he
+extended his right hand and raised his black "billy-cock" hat with
+his left.  At the same time he took one step forward.  Then the
+war-cries broke forth anew, deafening, savage, terrible cries, as
+one by one the entire three hundred filed past, the Prince shaking
+hands with each one, and removing his glove to do so.  This strange
+reception over, Onwanonsyshon rode up, and, flinging his scarlet
+blanket on the grass, dismounted and asked the Prince to stand
+on it.
+
+Then stepped forward an ancient chief, father of Onwanonsyshon,
+and Speaker of the Council.  He was old in inherited and personal
+loyalty to the British crown.  He had fought under Sir Isaac Brock
+at Queenston Heights in 1812, while yet a mere boy, and upon him was
+laid the honor of making his Queen's son a chief.  Taking Arthur
+by the hand, this venerable warrior walked slowly to and fro across
+the blanket, chanting as he went the strange, wild formula of
+induction.  From time to time he was interrupted by loud expressions
+of approval and assent from the vast throng of encircling braves,
+but apart from this no sound was heard but the low, weird monotone
+of a ritual older than the white man's foot-prints in North America.
+
+It is necessary that a chief of each of the three "clans" of the
+Mohawks shall assist in this ceremony.  The veteran chief, who sang
+the formula, was of the Bear clan.  His son, Onwanonsyshon, was of
+the Wolf (the clanship descends through the mother's side of the
+family).  Then one other chief, of the Turtle clan, and in whose
+veins coursed the blood of the historic Brant, now stepped to the
+edge of the scarlet blanket.  The chant ended, these two young
+chiefs received the Prince into the Mohawk tribe, conferring upon
+him the name of "Kavakoudge," which means "the sun flying from
+East to West under the guidance of the Great Spirit."
+
+Onwanonsyshon then took from his waist a brilliant deep-red sash,
+heavily embroidered with beads, porcupine quills, and dyed
+moose-hair, placing it over the Prince's left shoulder and knotting
+it beneath his right arm.  The ceremony was ended.  The constitution
+that Hiawatha had founded centuries ago, a constitution wherein
+fifty chiefs, no more, no less, should form the parliament of the
+"Six Nations," had been shattered and broken, because this race of
+loyal red men desired to do honor to a slender young boy-prince,
+who now bears the fifty-first title of the Iroquois.
+
+Many white men have received from these same people honorary titles,
+but none has been bestowed through the ancient ritual, with the
+imperative members of the three clans assisting, save that borne
+by Arthur of Connaught.
+
+After the ceremony the Prince entered the church to autograph his
+name in the ancient Bible, which, with a silver Holy Communion
+service, a bell, two tablets inscribed with the Ten Commandments,
+and a bronze British coat of arms, had been presented to the
+Mohawks by Queen Anne.  He inscribed "Arthur" just below the
+"Albert Edward," which, as Prince of Wales, the late King wrote
+when he visited Canada in 1860.
+
+When he returned to England Chief Kavakoudge sent his portrait,
+together with one of Queen Victoria and the Prince Consort, to
+be placed in the Council House of the "Six Nations," where they
+decorate the walls to-day.
+
+As I write, I glance up to see, in a corner of my room, a draping
+scarlet blanket, made of British army broadcloth, for the chief who
+rode the jet-black pony so long ago was the writer's father.  He
+was not here to wear it when Arthur of Connaught again set foot on
+Canadian shores.
+
+Many of these facts I have culled from a paper that lies on my desk;
+it is yellowing with age, and bears the date, "Toronto, October 2,
+1869," and on the margin is written, in a clear, half-boyish hand,
+"Onwanonsyshon, with kind regards from your brother-chief, Arthur."
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Legends of Vancouver, by E. Pauline Johnson
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