But listen to what the Indians say. They say that once that Humming-bird was out in a thunderstorm, and the lightning got angry with him because he flew so fast, and tried to strike him. It was jealous of him, that was the reason, for the lightning likes to think itself faster than anything else. But although the lightning chased that Humming-bird for a very long time, it could only just touch his tail, and there it has stayed--a little flash of it which was not enough to hurt--ever since. You know how bright the lightning is; that will help you to think what that Humming-bird's tail is like. And you know, now, what his throat is like. Fancy seeing them both together, flashing, sparkling, gleaming, beaming, glancing, dancing in the glorious, glowing sunshine of South America. But now in the Splendid-breasted Humming-bird all the glory is upon his breast, his throat. Once, I think (at least the Indians say so), he must have flown very high--yes, right up to heaven, and the door was open and he tried to fly in. But he could not, they turned him away; but the glory of heaven had just fallen upon his breast and he flew back with it there, to earth. It is green--that glory--the most marvellous, light, gleaming green, but all at once, as you look at it, it has changed to blue, an exquisite light, turquoise blue, and then, just as you are going to cry out, "Oh, but it is blue, not green," it is green again, and then blue again before you can say that it is green, and then, all at once, it is both at the same time, for each has changed into the other. It is the throat-gorget (you know I explained to you) on which this glorious colour falls, but this bird has such a large one that it covers the breast as well as the throat, and goes up quite high on each side, till it meets the deep, rich, velvety black of the head. Of course this deep, velvet black makes the wonderful green and blue look all the more wonderful, for it is a dark background for them to shine out against, and your mother will explain to you what a background is. Then, on the back this Humming-bird is green too--in fact you might call him the emerald Humming-bird--but it is darker than that other green (if anything so bright _can_ be darker) and without the lovely turquoise-blue in it. It is a glory, but not _such_ a glory as the one on his breast; not the glory of heaven that fell upon him at its gates--perhaps it is his memory of it as he flew away.