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

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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.

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