THE WARNING-SPEECH OF THE GODS, AND THE UNTAILING OF MEN.

"Changed, verily and yet more changed shall ye be, oh our children!" cried the Twain gods in such fashion and voice that none failed of heeding in all that great council:

Men now, shall ye be,

Like the men of first nations,

Like the perfect Corn Maidens;

Walking straight in the pathways

And full in the sunlight;

Clothed in garments, and tailless

(That ye straight sit in council

And stand the more seemly).

And your feet shall be webless,

And hands void of talons,

Yet full-furnished, for fighting.

Then ranged were the clans

In processions like dancers;

First, the fronts of their faces

Were shorn of their forelocks

By the Twain with their weapons,

And fires of the lightning,

That the Sun on his journeys

Might know them, his children,

And warn them of shame.

Again in processions,

Their talons were severed

And webbed fingers slitted;

And again in processions

Their webbed toes were parted

With the knives of the lightnings.

Then sore was the wounding

And loud cried the foolish;

But the Gods bade them "bear it"

That they and their children

"Be fitter as men."

When lastly the people

Were ranged in procession

And their tails were razed sharply,

There were many who cried

(Little heeding the foremost

Who recked now, no longer

The pain they had suffered),

And these, in their folly,

Shrinking farther and farther

Fled away, in their terror,

Crazed, and chattering loudly,

Climbing trees and high places,

And bereft of their senses

Wandered far (seeking safety,

Sleeping ever in tree-tops)

To the south Summer-country.

Seen again by far walkers—

"Long of tail and long handed

Like wizened man-children,

Wild, and noisy of mouthing,

Their kind still abide there,

Eating raw things like creatures—"

Say the words of the ancients.

"Thus wise fared it ever

With those who feared greatly

The words of the fathers,

Yet feared not their warnings!"

Say the words of the ancients.

Thereafter more and more goodly of favor became the people, for they dwelt long in Hán‘hlipíŋk‘ya, where, lo! that this might be so, their useless parts had in sacred theft been stolen, as it were, from them, and they gained great strength, and in the fulness thereof they sought more often than ever to war with all strangers (whereby they became still more changed in spirit), the which the Two Beloved watched amain, nor said they aught!

But there came a day when the people grew vain and waxed insolent, saying, "Look now, we are perfect of parts and surely have attained to the Middle place or unto one equal thereunto. Go to, let us build greatly and lay up store, nor wearily wander again even though the earth tremble and the Twain bid us forth. Think ye we shall not be strong and defy even the Fearful?" cried the Men of the Knife, the stout warriors of the Twain. But what of all that? This! Even whilst they were wont to speak in this brave fashion the mountains trembled often, and although afar sounding, much did it abate these boastings!