f 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 t
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