ill live on. Let it help some other fighter to greatness
and victory."

As if to confirm their decision, the next day a small sealing-vessel
anchored in the Inlet. All the men aboard spoke Russian, save
two thin, dark, agile sailors, who kept aloof from the crew and
conversed in another language. These two came ashore with part of
the crew and talked in French with a wandering Hudson's Bay trapper,
who often lodged with the Squamish people. Thus the women, who yet
mourned over their dead warrior, knew these two strangers to be
from the land where the great "Frenchman" was fighting against
the world.

Here I interrupted the chief. "How came the Frenchmen in a Russian
sealer?" I asked.

"Captives," he replied. "Almost slaves, and hated by their captors,
as the majority always hate the few. So the women drew those two
Frenchmen apart from the rest and told them the story of the bone of
the sea-serpent, urging them to carry it back to their own country
and give it to the great 'Frenchman' who was as courageous and as
brave as their dead leader.

"The Frenchmen hesitated; the talisman might affect them, they said;
might jangle their own brains, so that on their return to Russia
they would not have the sagacity to plan an escape to their own
country; might disjoint their bodies, so that their feet and hands
would be useless, and they would become as weak as children. But
the women assured them that the charm only worked its magical powers
over a man's enemies, that the ancient medicine-men had 'bewitched'
it with this quality. So the Frenchmen took it and promised that if
it were in the power of man they would convey it to 'the Emperor.'

"As the crew boarded the sealer, the women watching from the shore
observed strange contortions seize many of the men; some fell on
the deck; some crouched, shaking as with palsy; some writhed for
a moment, then fell limp and seemingly boneless; only the two
Frenchmen stood erect and strong and vital--the Squamish talisman
had already overcome their foes. As the little sealer set sail
up the gulf she was commanded by a crew of two Frenchmen--men who
had entered these waters as captives, who were leaving them as
conquerors. The palsied Russians were worse than useless, and
what became of them the chief could not state; presumably they
were flung overboard, and by some trick of a kindly fate the
Frenchmen at last reached the coast of France.

"Tradition is so indefinite abo