"There were two Indian warriors of the southwest that hated each other. One had an only daughter and the other a son. While their fathers were at war, this boy and girl met in the green forest. The old women of their tribes told them that they must never speak to each other, or their fathers would surely kill them. But the children said, 'There is no war or hate in our forest; the birds meet—why may not we?' One summer evening they stayed too long, watching the fish swim in the river and floating little sticks for canoes. The two warriors returned suddenly to their villages, missed their children, and then some one told them tales.
"The wind whispered to the trees, 'Trouble, trouble! These warriors hate each other more than they love their children. Hide them, O trees!' Then the trees whispered to the birds, 'Help the poor children—help, help!' And the birds said, 'They shall be turned into birds and escape, if you will make a little fire, O wind, to delay the warriors and give us time.'
"So the trees told the fireflies to light the dead leaves that covered the ground; the wind breathed on the fire, and soon the wood was all aflame!
"'What birds do you choose to be, that you may always live in the forest together?' asked the Bird Brothers of the children. 'Answer quickly, for the time is short.'
"'I will be a large brown Sparrow,' said the girl; 'then none will trap me for my feathers.'
"'And I too,' said the boy.
"Suddenly they were no longer children. But there was confusion, as the fire burned nearer and nearer. "'Fly! fly!' cried the Bird Brothers. 'You have wings—do not look at the earth, lest you grieve to leave it.'
"Gonda, being obedient, made an effort to fly above the flame, which only tinged some of her feathers red. But Towai, loath to leave the earth, lingered so long that his feathers became all red from the flames, and the soot blackened his face.