This condemned soul once animated the body of a witch-woman, who went up and down the coast, over seas and far inland, casting her evil eye on innocent people, and bringing them untold evils and diseases.  About her person she carried the renowned “Bad Medicine” that every Indian believes in—­medicine that weakened the arm of the warrior in battle, that caused deformities, that poisoned minds and characters, that engendered madness, that bred plagues and epidemics; in short, that was the seed of every evil that could befall mankind.  This witch-woman herself was immune from death; generations were born and grew to old age, and died, and other generations arose in their stead, but the witch-woman went about, her heart set against her kind.  Her acts were evil, her purposes wicked.  She broke hearts and bodies and souls; she gloried in tears, and revelled in unhappiness, and sent them broadcast wherever she wandered.  And in His high heaven the Sagalie Tyee wept with sorrow for His afflicted human children.  He dared not let her die, for her spirit would still go on with its evil doing.  In mighty anger He gave command to His Four Men (always representing the Deity) that they should turn this witch-woman into a stone and enchain her spirit in its centre, that the curse of her might be lifted from the unhappy race.

So the Four Men entered their giant canoe, and headed, as was their custom, up the Narrows.  As they neared what is now known as Prospect Point they heard from the heights above them a laugh, and, looking up, they beheld the witch-woman jeering defiantly at them.  They landed, and, scaling the rocks, pursued her as she danced away, eluding them like a will-o’-the-wisp as she called out to them sneeringly: 

“Care for yourselves, oh! men of the Sagalie Tyee, or I shall blight you with my evil eye.  Care for yourselves and do not follow me.”  On and on she danced through the thickest of the wilderness, on and on they followed until they reached the very heart of the sea-girt neck of land we know as Stanley Park.  Then the tallest, the mightiest of the Four Men, lifted his hand and cried out:  “Oh! woman of the stony heart, be stone for evermore, and bear forever a black stain for each one of your evil deeds.”  And as he spoke the witch-woman was transformed into this stone that tradition says is in the centre of the park.

Such is the “Legend of the Lure.”  Whether or not this stone is really in existence who knows?  One thing is positive, however:  no Indian will ever help to discover it.

Three different Indians have told me that fifteen or eighteen years ago, two tourists—­a man and a woman—­were lost in Stanley Park.  When found a week later the man was dead, the woman mad, and each of my informants firmly believed they had, in their wanderings, encountered “the stone” and were compelled to circle around it, because of its powerful lure.