“Leaning forward, they all gazed into their own mirrored eyes, thinking the while deeply of all that they wished. The mirrored eyes of the god of Hate gleamed like fire; Jealousy’s eyes stared and stared; and Mercy’s eyes gazed back with tenderest beams into the eyes of Love and her sister, Beauty.
“‘Don’t move!’ said the goddess, as she swiftly threw her magic fishing-net into the lagoon, and caught the shining, mirrored eyelight of the gods and goddesses. Picking it out of the net very tenderly with her fingers, she placed the gleaming lumps of mystical light into her wonderful bundle.
“‘Is that all?’ thundered Poluto, the Master-of-all-Desires, as he stamped his feet with impatience when the goddess stooped yet again and plucked the golden flowers that danced in laughter at her feet.
“‘Is that all?’ he thundered yet again, as she put the flowers in the bundle, and then fastened her robe of the western winds about her tall, glorious form!
“‘Alas! it is not enough,’ she responded, as she gazed tenderly into the eyes of impatient Desire, and made great pretence to hasten. For well she knew that he wanted nothing more than that!
“Then, in single file, the gods and goddesses tramped back the way they had come, and their tall shadows moved along the mighty walls of the moonlit mountains.
“Next night, while the moonbeams were shining over the small grass-huts that the poor mortals had made, so that they could sleep, a shadow passed across the whole of the sky. It was the goddess of Love. She had arrived down in the depths of the forest wherein dwelt the sad, newly-created mortals. She was so tall that she was obliged to use magic and so make herself small. When she had shrunken up till she was only about four times as big as a mortal, she could walk with ease beneath the tall forest trees. Taking a lump of red clay out of the earth, she strode deeper into the forest glooms. Standing beneath a giant breadfruit tree, she made a little fire out of the old moonlights and dead forest twigs. Often and often she blew its little flame. Then, at last, it burnt steadily with a blue light.
“Then she started to make tiny figures out of the red clay! Opening her bundle, she carefully took out bits of old sunsets and starlight. For a long time she was very busy, toiling and toiling with her fingers, as she moulded little arms, legs, and small feet. When she had completed her task and had set the little figures all upright in a row, she very tenderly put small pinches of sunset and starlight into the little holes she had made beneath their brows. Then she whispered, and it sounded as though a wind went moaning through the forest trees, and lo! the small figures all looked up at her, for their eyes were made. Then she said once again: ‘Now, little forest children, gaze upon me.’ Then all the eyes of the small clay figures turned and gazed on her! ‘Now put out your hands, and stamp, so, with your feet.’ At once the little marionettes obeyed, stamped their feet and put forth their arms. When the goddess had gazed approvingly at her own handiwork, she looked round the silent forest, and said: ‘Come, my little ones, follow me.’ Then she strode across the forest. And the tiny clay figures, looking round with curiosity, followed her, half frightened, as they kept close to the big ankles of the goddess who had made them. Their little eyes shone like tiny constellations of wandering stars, as they followed their creator through the depth of those forest glooms.