He looked long at the image. He saw what it would do when life should be given it. He knew all things.
He now put fire in the image, but fire is not life.
He put fire within and a red glow passed through and through it. The fire dried the clay of which the image was made, and gave the image an exceedingly fierce aspect. It shone through the scales upon the breast, through the gills, and the bat-winged ears. The lobster eyes were like a living coal.
Chemanitou opened the side of the image, but he did not enter. He had given it hands and a chin.
It could smile like the manitoes themselves.
He made it walk all about the island of Metowac, that he might see how it would act. This he did by means of his will.
He now put a little life into it, but he did not take out the fire. Chemanitou saw the aspect of the creature would be very terrible, and yet that it could smile in such a manner that it ceased to be ugly. He thought much upon these things. He felt that it would not be best to let such a creature live—a creature made up mostly from the beasts of the field, but with hands of power, a chin lifting the head upward, and lips holding all things within themselves.
While he thought upon these things he took the image in his hands and cast it into the cave. But Chemanitou forgot to take out the life.
The creature lay a long time in the cave and did not stir, for its fall was very great. It lay amongst the old creations that had been thrown in there without life.
Now when a long time had passed Chemanitou heard a great noise in the cave. He looked in and saw the image sitting there, and it was trying to put together the old broken things that had been cast in as of no value.