The night was two days long; he broke one string and threw it away to the winds. They laughed. He threw another string to the thunder voices. The thunder was heavier than before. He threw away every string of hiaqua; then his body dropped on the ground on the side of the mountain, and he went to sleep. When his eyes came open he was hungry; he dug some camass root, and made a pipe and smoked. His bones were not broken, but his joints made a noise like a paddle on the edge of a canoe. His hair was like a blanket on his back; it lay on the ground while he was smoking. “The Great Tamanous has done this,” said the hunter. He looked at the white mountain, and his heart was full of peace. “I have no hiaqua. It is all given back to the Great Tamanous. I am well. I have no hunger for it. I will go home.” He found the trail overgrown with tall trees. “Tamanous has done it,” he said. The people in his village did not know him. He asked for his wife, and they pointed to an old squaw, wrinkled and with her face bent to her knees. She knew him and pointed to his hair. “Tamanous,” he said. “There is the little papoose,” she said. The papoose was a man with white hair. “He is your son and my son,” said the old squaw. The hunter looked in the water. “I have slept for many moons,” he said. He became a great medicine man, for he was wise. He taught the Siwash nation many things. He taught them to keep their promises. He told them not to forget the Great Tamanous whose home is on the white mountain. XXXIX. LEGEND OF THE WAMPUM-BIRD AND THE BOY (Iroquois) An Indian was alone in the thick woods when he heard a strange sound, and looking sharply through the branches and leaves saw a large bird. It had no feathers. It was covered with wampum. The warrior made no noise. He ran back to the village and told his chief. He was believed, for no one dared to tell false things to the chief. A great council was called. The warriors were told that whoever should bring the bird into the camp would win a great prize, and that prize was the daughter of the head chief. A hundred warriors took their bows and arrows and went softly to the thick woods where the wampum-bird was resting. It had flown to the top of the tallest tree. They knew it was a spirit bird that had lost its way. Many arrows hit the bird, and many strings of fine wampum fell to the ground. Some picked these up and ran away, for they were rich now, and did not care for the prize; but, when they reached the village, the wampum turned to turkey feathers in their hands. They hid themselves in their wigwams. They were ashamed of their greed. The warriors who stayed and shot at the bird gave great war whoops, but the bird did not fly away, nor was it frightened at any noise they made.