THE LEGEND OF THE DALLES.

In the very ancient far-away times the sole and only inhabitants of the
world were fiends, and very highly uncivilized fiends at that. The
whole Northwest was then one of the centres of volcanic action. The
craters of the Cascades were fire breathers and fountains of liquid
flame. It was an extremely fiendish country, and naturally the
inhabitants fought like devils. Where the great plains of the Upper
Columbia now spread was a vast inland sea, which beat against a rampart
of hills to the east of The Dalles. And the great weapon of the fiends
in warfare was their tails, which were of prodigious size and terrible
strength. Now, the wisest, strongest, and most subtle fiend of the
entire crew was one fiend called the "Devil." He was a thoughtful
person and viewed with alarm the ever increasing tendency among his
neighbors toward fighting and general wickedness. The whole tribe met
every summer to have a tournament after their fashion, and at one of
these reunions the Devil arose and made a pacific speech. He took
occasion to enlarge on the evils of constant warfare, and suggested
that a general reconciliation take place and that they all live in
peace. The astonished fiends could not understand any such unwarlike
procedure from _him_, and with one accord, suspecting treachery, made
straight at the intended reformer, who, of course, took to his heels.
The fiends pressed him hard as he sped over the plains of The Dalles,
and as he neared the defile he struck a Titanic blow with his tail on
the pavement--and a chasm opened up through the valley, and down rushed
the waters of the inland sea. But a battalion of the fiends still
pursued him, and again he smote with his tail and more strongly, and a
vaster cleft went up and down the valley, and a more terrific torrent
swept along. The leading fiends took the leap, but many fell into the
chasm--and still the Devil was sorely pursued. He had just time to rap