I have been asked to write a preface to these Legends of Vancouver,which, in conjunction with the members of the PublicationSub-committee—Mrs. Lefevre, Mr. L. W. Makovski and Mr. R. W.Douglas—I have helped to put through the press. But scarcely anyprefatory remarks are necessary. This book may well stand on its ownmerits. Still, it may be permissible to record one's glad satisfactionthat a poet has arisen to cast over the shoulders of our greymountains, our trail-threaded forests, our tide-swept waters, and thestreets and skyscrapers of our hurrying city, a gracious mantle ofromance. Pauline Johnson has linked the vivid present with theimmemorial past. Vancouver takes on a new aspect as we view it throughher eyes. In the imaginative power that she has brought to thesesemi-historical sagas, and in the liquid flow of her rhythmical prose,she has shown herself to be a literary worker of whom we may well beproud: she has made a most estimable contribution to purely Canadianliterature.
BERNARD McEVOY
These legends (with two or three exceptions) were told to me personallyby my honored friend, the late Chief Joe Capilano, of Vancouver, whom Ihad the privilege of first meeting in London in 1906, when he visitedEngland and was received at Buckingham Palace by their Majesties KingEdward VII and Queen Alexandra.
To the fact that I was able to greet Chief Capilano in the Chinooktongue, while we were both many thousands of miles from home, I owe thefriendship and the confidence which he so freely gave me when I came toreside on the Pacific Coast. These legends he told me from time totime, just as the mood possessed him, and he frequently remarked thatthey had never been