hem 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 motherhoo