silvery fish were making a succession of little leaps and plunges
along the surface of the sea, their bodies catching the last tints
of sunset, like flashing jewels. I looked at the tillicum quickly.
He was watching me--a world of anxiety in his half-mournful eyes.

"And those two silvery fish?" I questioned.

He smiled. The anxious look vanished. "I was right," he said; "you
do know us and our ways, for you are one of us. Yes, those fish are
seen only in these waters; there are never but two of them. They
are Yaada and her mate, seeking for the soul of the Haida woman--her
mother."





DEADMAN'S ISLAND


It is dusk on the Lost Lagoon,
And we two dreaming the dusk away,
Beneath the drift of a twilight grey--
Beneath the drowse of an ending day
And the curve of a golden moon.

It is dark in the Lost Lagoon,
And gone are the depths of haunting blue,
The grouping gulls, and the old canoe,
The singing firs, and the dusk and--you,