SINCE the world was young Tu-tock-ah-nu-lah, the Rock Chief, had guarded Ah-wah-nee, the home of the children of the sun. For his watch-tower he chose a storm-tried rock on the northern wall of the valley, and from this far height defied all the powers of evil.

In the spring he besought the Great Spirit to send rain that the wild corn might hang heavy with tasseling grain, the berries cluster thick on the branches of the manzanita, and the fish abound in the waters of the river. In the summer he fattened the bear and deer, and in the autumn he wandered through the mountains driving them from their haunts that the hunter might not return empty-handed from the chase. The smoke of his pipe spread like a soft haze through the air, sheltering the women from the sun when they went forth to gather acorns and wood for winter.

His form was like a spear, straight and strong; and he reared his head high above the clouds. In his arm was the strength of an untamed grizzly; and his voice was like the sound of Cho-look, the great fall that thunders down from the north, starting deep echoes from crag and gorge. When the sunlight danced upon the water, the Ah-wah-nee-chees were happy, for they knew that Tu-tock-ah-nu-lah smiled; when the sky was overcast, they trembled, fearful of his frown; when his sighs swept mournfully through the pines, they, too, were sad. The children of Ah-wah-nee loved the mighty Rock Chief who dwelt above them in his lonely lodge.

One morning, as his midnight watch drew to a close and the first pale glint of day shone on his forehead, he heard a soft voice whisper, “Tu-tock-ah-nu-lah!”

His eyes burned with the passion fire as a fair vision rose before him, yonder on the granite dome of the southern wall. It was the form of a maiden, not of the dark tribe he loved and guarded, but fairer than any he had seen or known in dreams. Her face had the rosy flush of dawn, her eyes took their color from the morning sky, and her hair was like strands of golden sunlight. Her voice was low as a dove call when she whispered Tu-tock-ah-nu-lah’s name.

For a moment she lingered, smiling; but even as the Rock Chief leaped from his tower in answer to her call, she glided across the rounded dome and faded from his sight, leaving her throne shrouded in a snowy cloud. Piqued by the mystery of her flight, Tu-tock-ah-nu-lah followed the sound of her rustling garments, wandering all day over the mountains; but the pine trees wove a blue mist about her, hiding her from his eyes. Not until he returned to his citadel at night did he see her face again. Then for an instant she appeared upon her throne, her pale brow tinged with the rose glow of the sun; and he knew that she was Tis-sa-ack, the Goddess of the Valley, who shared with him the loving care of the Ah-wah-nee-chees.

Every morning now at dawn Tu-tock-ah-nu-lah left his tower and sped across the valley to meet the lovely goddess of his heart’s desire. Through the day he hovered near her, gazing upon the fair form, always half hidden by billowing cloud, trying to read an answering love in her wide blue eyes. But never again did he hear the voice that came to him across the valley in the stillness of that one gray dawn.

Tu-tock-ah-nu-lah’s passion grew day by day, as summer ripens the fruits of springtime budding; but Tis-sa-ack had no joy in his love. Her heart was heavy with a great sorrow, for she saw that the Rock Chief was blind to the needs of his people, that he had forsaken those who looked to him for life.

The sun burned his way through the sky, and no rains fell to cool the aching earth. Tu-tock-ah-nu-lah paid no heed to the withering leaves of the wild corn, the shrunken streams from which the fisherman turned with empty nets, the shriveling acorns that fell worthless to the ground. He neither knew nor cared that the hunter, after weary days in the mountains, came to his lodge at night with arrows unused, to meet the anxious glance of starving women and hear the wailing cry of hungry children.

The Ah-wah-nee-chees called upon the Rock Chief in vain. He did not hear their cries; he thought only of his love. The harvest moon looked down into the valley and saw the dark form of Famine skulking there. Then it was that Tis-sa-ack’s love was swept away by an overwhelming pity; and as she lay upon her couch she cried out to the Great Spirit to send the rain-clouds that bear life to all things of the earth.

And even as she prayed, there came an answer to her prayer. With a voice of thunder the Great Spirit gave commands to the spirits of the air. With a barbed shaft of lightning he rent the granite dome where Tis-sa-ack prayed; and from the cleft rock came a rush of water that filled the dry basin of Wai-ack, the Mirror Lake, and sent a wandering stream through the thirsty fields.

Now the withered corn-stalks raised their drooping heads, flowers nodded among the waving grasses and offered their lips to the wild bees, and the acorns swelled with sap that crept upward from reviving roots. The women went joyously into the fields to gather the harvest, and the men no longer returned with empty pouches from the forest or fished by the riverside in vain.

The chief of the Ah-wah-nee-chees ordered a great feast, and all faces were turned in gratitude to the dome where Tis-sa-ack dwelt. But Tis-sa-ack was gone. She had sacrificed her love, her life, for the children of Ah-wah-nee. Through her they had suffered; through her their sufferings had ceased; and that all might hold her memory dear she left them the lake, the river and a fragment of her throne. Upon the bosom of Ke-koo-too-yem, the Sleeping Water, her spirit rests, wandering sometimes of a summer evening to the Half Dome, there to linger for a moment as the sun slips over the western wall of the valley.

As she flew away a soft down from her wings fell upon the earth; and where it fell, along the edge of the river and over the meadows stretching toward Tu-tock-ah-nu-lah’s watch-tower, one can now find tiny white violets, whose fragrance is the secret of a loving spirit, a breath of happiness to all who gather them.

When Tu-tock-ah-nu-lah found that Tis-sa-ack was gone, a great sadness came upon him. Day and night his sighs swept through the pine trees. He puffed gloomily at his pipe until his tower was hidden in a cloud of smoke. At last, thinking to follow and find his lost love, he went away; and lest he be forgotten, he carved with his hunting-knife the outlines of his face upon the wall of his fortress, which the white man has named El Capitan.

As he turned sadly from his lodge, Tu-tock-ah-nu-lah perceived that the air was filled with a rare and subtle perfume, blowing from a stretch of meadow fringed with tamarack. Thinking it the breath of Tis-sa-ack, he followed on and on, forgetful of the arts of E-ee-ke-no, who dwells among the water-lilies in the lake which the Three Brothers hold in the hollow of their hands.

E-ee-ke-no had long loved the Rock Chief, but Tu-tock-ah-nu-lah scorned her unsought love, which turned through jealousy to bitter hate. Now as she saw him go away in search of Tis-sa-ack, she threw around him the mystic fragrance of the water-lily, which, gentle as a caress, is deadly to all who win the hatred of E-ee-ke-no.

On and on across the meadow fringed with tamarack, among the wild flowers and the waving grasses, Tu-tock-ah-nu-lah wandered, following blindly the transformed spirit of E-ee-ke-no until he disappeared forever in the depths of the lake.