Hang the cage with rods of silver, 220 And the birds with glistening feathers, At the doorway of my wigwam.' "At the door he hung the bird-cage, And they entered in and gladly Listened to Osseo's father, 225 Ruler of the Star of Evening, As he said: 'O my Osseo! I have had compassion on you, Given you back your youth and beauty, Into birds of various plumage 230 Changed your sisters and their husbands; Changed them thus because they mocked you; In the figure of the old man, In that aspect sad and wrinkled, Could not see your heart of passion, 235 Could not see your youth immortal; Only Oweenee, the faithful, Saw your naked heart and loved you. "'In the lodge that glimmers yonder, In the little star that twinkles 240 Through the vapors, on the left hand, Lives the envious Evil Spirit, The Wabeno, the magician, Who transformed you to an old man. Take heed lest his beams fall on you, 245 For the rays he darts around him Are the power of his enchantment, Are the arrows that he uses.' "Many years, in peace and quiet, On the peaceful Star of Evening 250 Dwelt Osseo with his father; Many years, in song and flutter, At the doorway of the wigwam, Hung the cage with rods of silver, And fair Oweenee, the faithful, 255 Bore a son unto Osseo, With the beauty of his mother, With the courage of his father. "And the boy grew up and prospered, And Osseo, to delight him, 260 Made him little bows and arrows, Opened the great cage of silver, And let loose his aunts and uncles, All those birds with glossy feathers, For his little son to shoot at. 265 "Round and round they wheeled and darted, Filled the Evening Star with music, With their songs of joy and freedom; Filled the Evening Star with splendor, With the fluttering of their plumage; 270 Till the boy, the little hunter, Bent his bow and shot an arrow, Shot a swift and fatal arrow, And a bird, with shining feathers, At his feet fell wounded sorely. 275 "But, O wondrous transformation! 'T was no bird he saw before him! 'T was a beautiful young woman, With the arrow in her bosom! "When her blood fell on the planet, 280 On the sacred Star of Evening, Broken was the spell of magic, Powerless was the strange enchantment, And the youth, the fearless bowman, Suddenly felt himself descending, 285 Held by unseen hands, but sinking Downward through the empty spaces, Downward through the clouds and vapors, Till he rested on an island, On an island, green and grassy, 290