e 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 has 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 hum