nd
he made up his mind to go and see them.

The birds all loved Wesakchak, so a great many of them had given him
their feathers to make into a suit. When it was finished, it was very
beautiful. The vest was of snow-white feathers from the pigeons'
breasts, the coat, of shining blue ones, given by the bluebirds. The
leggings were made of black and brown feathers, which the blackbirds
and thrushes had gladly sent to him. Around his neck and wrists he put
bright yellow feathers, the gift of the canaries. In his hair he wore
the eagle's feathers, for he was a great chief.

He set off early one morning, and as he travelled on, the birds and
animals whom he passed all spoke to him. By and by he met a
prairie-chicken. In those days the prairie-chicken was a pale gray
color.

"Good-morning, brother prairie-chicken," said Wesakchak. "I have been
hearing strange tales about you. The animals tell me that you are very
proud of the way that you can startle them."

"But I only remain still in the grass until they come close to me and
then fly up suddenly," replied the prairie-chicken. "I do not mean to
frighten them, but it is great fun to see them jump."

"That may be so," said Wesakchak. "But it is not kind of you to fly up
in their faces. Then I hear that you are so proud of this, that you
call yourself 'Kee-koo,' or the Startsome Bird."

The prairie-chicken did not reply to this, but remained still in the
grass.

"Why do you not fly up in front of me?" asked Wesakchak. Still the
prairie-chicken did not move or speak. Suddenly Wesakchak leaned down
and gathered a handful of little stones.

"Start now," he said, as he threw them at the chicken. The small
pebbles lit on its back and it flew up suddenly. The stones rolled
off, but their marks remained, and so after that the prairie-chicken
was always speckled.

Wesakchak continued his journey, and late in the afternoon he came to a
creek. The water of the little stream was not clean enough to wade
through, for green slime floated on the top and reeds grew in its boggy
mud. It was rather too wide to jump, but Wesakchak decided to make a
running jump and see if he could get across. He ran back a pace on
the prairie, then forward to the bank, but the prairie-grass was so
long that his feet became entangled, so he went back to start again.
He did this two or three times, and at last had the grass packed down
enough so that he could make a good run. Then h