of Sakechak; from him, from
one family of Caddos, are all men descended. No matter whither they
have been carried; whether they have covered their tent with leaves
beneath the warm sky of the south, or built it of ice, where the earth
never thaws; whether they are red like myself, or white like the wise
man at whose bidding we are gathered together; they are descended from
one man, the hunter Sakechak, of the hill Wecheganawaw.

III. THE BIRD OF AGES.

The waters were spread over the face of the earth; there was nothing
to be seen but one vast and entire ocean, save the mighty Bird of
Ages, which had lived from the beginning of time, whose eyes were
fire, whose glances were lightning, and the clapping of whose wings
was thunder. He had lived long in the skies above the stars; but, when
he heard the rushing and dashing about of the waters, he descended
from his seat to the ocean, and touching it, the earth instantly rose,
and remained on the surface of the water. It rose of its present size,
covered with verdure, as the low grounds which have been flooded by
winter rains are green when these rains are withdrawn from them. The
mountains, then as now, towered to the skies, and the valleys were
deep, and the rivers rushed impetuously over the steeps which
attempted to impede their course. Winters locked up a portion of the
earth, and the summer suns beamed fiercely and intensely upon another
portion. The stars shone by day, and the beams of the moon gladdened
the hours of darkness. Winds swept the vast expanse of ocean, and a
part of the time was calm as a part of the time is now. The world
was very like what it is at this day, save that, within its mighty
boundaries, over all its far limits, neither on mountain, hill,
valley, tree, nor bush, in den nor burrow, in water nor air, dwelt a
living creature. No gentle song of bird arose to break the stillness
of morning, no cry of wild beast to disturb the unbroken hush of
midnight; the noise of the winds chasing each other over the vast
waste was all that was heard breaking the monotonous repose of the
earth.

"This will not do," said the bird, talking to himself; "here is a fine
world and nobody to occupy it. Here are stars, beautiful as anything
can be; a moon, that sheds her mild light on--what?--and a sun so
bright that not even the Bird of Ages can look steadily on his
beams--with that bird alone to behold him or them. How balmy is the
air which I feel fanning my fe