LEGENDS OF VANCOUVER

times, when the city is shrouded in rain, the
sun yellows their snows to a deep orange, but
through sun and shadow they stand immov-
able, smiling westward above the waters of
the restless Pacific, eastward above the superb
 beauty of the Capilano Canyon. But the In-
? dian tribes do not know these peaks as “The
Lions.” Even the Chief, whose feet have so
. recently wandered to the Happy Hunting

V" Grounds, never heard the name given them
' ‘ until I mentioned it to him one dreamy August
day, as together we followed the trail leading
to the canyon. He seemed o surprised at the
name that I mentioned the reason it had been
applied to them, asking him if he recalled the
Landseer Lions in Trafalgar Square. Yes, he
remembered those splendid sculptures, and his
quick eye saw the resemblance instantly. It
appeared to please him, and his fine face ex-
‘ pressed the haunting memories of the far-
7 away roar of Old London. But the “call of the
2} blood" was stronger, and presently he re-
, ferred to the Indian legend of those peaks—a
I; legend that I have reason to believe is absolute-
, ly unknown to thousands of Palefaces who look
J! 5 upon “The Lions” daily, without the love for
." them that is in the Indian heart; without
3 knowledge of the secret of “The Two Sisters.”
5 ( The legend was intensely fascinating as it left
P! ,. his lips in the quaint broken English that is