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"They call me Ta-la-pus, the prairie-wolf, And wild and free am I. I cannot swim like Eh-ko-lie, the whale, Nor like the eagle, Chack-chack, can I fly. "I cannot talk as does the great Ty-ee, Nor like the o-tel-agh* shine in the sky. I am but Ta-la-pus, the prairie-wolf, And wild and free am I." With every word, every step, he became more like the wolf he was describing.
Little Ta-la-pus was wonderfully encouraged by his father's notice of him and his words of praise. Never before had he seemed so close to manhood, for, being the youngest boy of the family, he had but little companionship with any at home except his mother and the little sisters that now seemed so far behind him in their island home.
Ta-la-pus listened to everything. He could learn so much from the older men, and hour by hour he gained confidence. No more he thought of his dance with fear and shyness, for all these people were kindly and hospitable even to a boy of eleven. At midnight there was another feast, this time of clams, and luscious crabs, with much steaming black tea.
That was the beginning of a great week of games, feasting and tribal dances, but not a night passed but the participants called for the wild "wolf-dance" of the little boy from the island. When the Potlatch was over, old Chief Mowitch and Lapool and Ta-la-pus returned to Vancouver Island, but no more the boy sat alone on the isolated rock, watching the mainland through a mist of yearning.
The father looked smilingly at Ta-la-pus, but the boy's eyes, great and dark, and hungry for the far mainland, for the great feasts he had heard so much of, were fastened in begging, pleading seriousness on his father's face. Suddenly a whim seized the old chief's fancy. "Ta-la-pus," he said, "you look as if you would like to go, too. Do you want to take part in the Potlatch?"
"My brother does not dance our tribal dances," began Lapool, but Ta-la-pus spoke up bravely. His father and brother both stared at him in amazement. Then Chief Mowitch laughed, and said, "If he says he will dance, he will do it. He never promises what he cannot do, but I did not know he could do the steps.
Then the elder son, Chet-woot, spoke joyously: "And, mama,* we may bring back great riches, and even if the cold does come while we are away, our little brother, Ta-la-pus, will care for you and the babies. He'll carry water and bring all the wood for your warmth."
After a while little Ta-la-pus fell asleep, and when he awoke, dawn was just breaking. Someone had covered him with a beautiful, white, new blanket, and as his young eyes opened they looked straight into the kindly face of the great Squamish chief. "The dancers are tired, and we shall all sleep until the sun reaches midday, but my guests cry for one more dance before sunrise.
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