THE TWO SISTERS

deny you nothing this day, and some time you
may bear sons to bless this peace you have
asked, and to bless their mother’s sire for
granting it.’ Then he turned to all the young
men of the tribe and commanded, ‘Build fires
at sunset on all the coast headlands—fires of
welcome. Man your canoes and face the north,
greet the enemy, and tell them that I, the Tyee
of the Capilanos, ask—no, command that they
join me for a great feast in honor of my two
daughters.’ And when the northern tribes
got this invitation they flocked down the coast
to this feast of a Great Peace. They brought
their women and their children: they brought
game and fish, gold and white stone beads,
baskets and carven ladies, and wonderful
woven blankets to lay at the feet of their now
acknowledged ruler, the great Tyee. And he,
in turn, gave such a potlatch that nothing but
tradition can vie with it. There were long,
glad days of joyousness, long pleasurable
nights of dancing and camp fires, and vast
quantities of food. The war canoes were
emptied of their deadly weapons and filled
with the daily catch of salmon. The hostile
war songs ceased, and in their place were heard
the soft shuffle of dancing feet, the singing
voices of women, the play-games of the chil-
dren of two powerful tribes which had been
until now ancient enemies, for a great and

‘I