Ages ago the land was devastated by a monstrous dragon of fetid, reeking breath and claws that uprooted in a single stroke the largest pine trees. The people everywhere stood in constant dread and awe of it.
An Indian girl, who was gathering berries on a summer day, discovered the monster sleeping in the sunshine on a hillside near the present mouth of the Spokane. Slipping away, she ran to the village of her tribe and reported the scene that had burst upon her astonished vision.
Instantly the chief assembled his warriors, and gathering every cord and thong in the village, they stole upon the sleeping dragon and stealthily bound it to many an adjacent tree and crag. This accomplished, the tribe fell upon the drowsy mammoth with all their implements of chase and war.
Under this rude reveille the dragon bestirred himself, and by a single mighty lunge broke all his bonds, and vanished like the wind, tearing as he went a deep gorge and channel to Lake Coeur d' Alene.
The imprisoned waters of the lake rolled down the dragons course, and ever since the pleasant Spokane has gone fretting to the sea.
