Part 19 (1/2)
It was Yaada, lovely Yaada, who first taught the stream its sighing, For 'twas silent till her coming, and 'twas voiceless as the sh.o.r.e; But throughout the great forever it will sing the song undying That the lips of lovers sing for evermore.
He was chief of all the Squamish, and he ruled the coastal waters-- And he warred upon her people in the distant Charlotte Isles; She, a winsome basket weaver, daintiest of Haida daughters, Made him captive to her singing and her smiles.
Till his hands forgot to havoc and his weapons lost their l.u.s.ting, Till his stormy eyes allured her from the land of Totem Poles, Till she followed where he called her, followed with a woman's trusting, To the canyon where the Capilano rolls.
And the women of the Haidas plied in vain their magic power, Wailed for many moons her absence, wailed for many moons their prayer, ”Bring her back, O Squamish foeman, bring to us our Yaada flower!”
But the silence only answered their despair.
But the men were swift to battle, swift to cross the coastal water, Swift to war and swift of weapon, swift to paddle trackless miles, Crept with stealth along the canyon, stole her from her love and brought her Once again unto the distant Charlotte Isles.
But she faded, ever faded, and her eyes were ever turning Southward toward the Capilano, while her voice had hushed its song, And her riven heart repeated words that on her lips were burning: ”Not to friend--but unto foeman I belong.
”Give me back my Squamish lover--though you hate, I still must love him.
”Give me back the rugged canyon where my heart must ever be-- Where his lodge awaits my coming, and the Dream Hills lift above him, And the Capilano learned its song from me.”
But through long-forgotten seasons, moons too many to be numbered, He yet waited by the canyon--she called across the years, And the soul within the river, though centuries had slumbered, Woke to sob a song of womanly tears.
For her little, lonely spirit sought the Capilano canyon, When she died among the Haidas in the land of Totem Poles, And you yet may hear her singing to her lover-like companion, If you listen to the river as it rolls.