It was now nearly night; the bats were flying through the air, and the roar of wild beasts began to be heard. A gusty wind swept in from the ocean, and passed over the island of Metowac, casting the light sand to and fro. A heavy scud was skimming along the horizon, while higher up in the sky was a dark thick cloud, upon the verge of which the moon hung for a moment, and then was shut in. A panther came by and stayed a moment, with one foot raised and bent inward, while he looked up at the image, and smelt the feet, that were like his own. A vulture swooped down with a great noise of its wings, and made a dash at the beak, but Chemanitou held him back. Then came the porcupine, and the lizard, and the snake, each drawn by its kind in the image. Chemanitou veiled his face for many hours, and the gusty wind swept by, but he did not stir. He saw that every beast of the earth seeketh its kind; and that which is like draweth its likeness unto himself. The Master of Life thought and thought. The idea grew into his mind that at some time he would create a creature who should be made not after the things of the earth, but after himself. He should link this world to the spirit world,--being made in the likeness of the Great Spirit, he should be drawn unto his likeness. Many days and nights, whole seasons, passed while Chemanitou thought upon these things. He saw all things. Then the Master of Life lifted up his head; the stars were looking down upon the image, and a bat had alighted upon the forehead, spreading its great wings upon each side. Chemanitou took the bat and held out its whole leathery wings, (and ever since the bat, when he rests, lets his body hang down,) so that he could try them over the head of the image. He then took the life of the bat away, and twisted off the body, by which means the whole thin part fell down over the head, and upon each side, making the ears, and a covering for the forehead like that of the hooded serpent. Chemanitou did not cut off the face of the image below, he went on and made a chin, and lips that were firm and round, that they might shut in the forked tongue, and the ivory teeth; and he knew that with the lips and the chin it would smile, when life should be given to it. The image was now all done but the arms, and Chemanitou saw that with a chin it must have hands. He grew more grave. He had never given hands to any creature. He made the arms and the hands very beautiful, after the manner of his own. Chemanitou now took no pleasure in his work that was done--it was not good in his sight. He wished he had not given it hands; might it not, when trusted with life, might it not begin to create? might it not thwart the plans of the master of life himself! 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.