But the fair maiden placed her hand in the old man’s hand, and, together they rose into the air. In vain they sought to detain them—the father even shot at the old man, but they were soon lost to sight, and to this day, when the people see the chain lightning in the sky, they say it is the wreath of the beautiful maiden; when the lightning strikes, they say it is the gardener shooting at the old man, and, when the heat lightning flashes, they say it is the great chief flashing his glass over the earth in search of his favorite and beautiful wife.
Why the Parrot and the Minor Bird but Echo the Words of Man
Long ago people caught and nourished the sao bird, because it learned the language of man more readily than either the parrot or minor bird. While they had to be taught with much care, the sao bird had but to hear a word and it could readily utter it; moreover, the sao bird could utter its own thoughts.
Upon a time a man of the north country, owning a sao bird, stole a buffalo from his neighbor and killed it. Part of the buffalo the man cooked and ate; the rest he hid either in the rice bin or over the rice house.
Seeking the buffalo, next day, the neighbor asked the man if he had seen it.
The man replied, “No.” The sao bird, however, cried out, “He killed it; part he hid in the rice bin, part over the rice house.”
The neighbor searched in both of these places and found the parts just as the sao bird had said.
“I did not steal the buffalo,” insisted the man.
But the bird ever called, “He killed it and put part into the rice bin, and part over the rice house.”