years, fresh furs have I laid for your bed. Sleep now, and rest,
oh! my Tenas Tyee,' she said."

* * * * *

The chief unfolded his arms, and his voice took another tone as he
said, "What do you call that story--a legend?"

"The white people would call it an allegory," I answered. He shook
his head.

"No savvy," he smiled.

I explained as simply as possible, and with his customary alertness
he immediately understood. "That's right," he said. "That's what
we say it means, we Squamish, that greed is evil and not clean,
like the salt-chuck oluk. That it must be stamped out amongst our
people, killed by cleanliness and generosity. The boy that overcame
the serpent was both these things."

"What became of this splendid boy?" I asked.

"The Tenas Tyee? Oh! some of our old, old people say they
sometimes see him now, standing on Brockton Point, his bare young
arms outstretched to the rising sun," he replied.

"Have you ever seen him, Chief?" I questioned.

"No," he answered simply. But I have never heard such poignant
regret as his wonderful voice crowded into that single word.