ill, the wind blew and the birds shrieked in
their revels overhead.

The men were dozing in their hammocks; the women had built fires over
which to roast the turtle meat for the evening meal. And the children
played in the sand.

A shout went up suddenly from one of the group.

"Here comes Oomah now."

"Yes! We will run to meet Oomah," another said. "See, he brings birds
from the forest."

They raced toward the oncoming figure still a few hundred yards away on
the edge of the sandbank. Each wanted to be the first to reach his side
and to hear from his lips the story of the afternoon's hunt.

"Oh, look," the leader said in wide-eyed wonder when they all came to a
stop in front of the mighty hunter. "A _gura_ and a _chapla_. Tell us,
Oomah, how did you get them?"

"In the forest, high up in the trees," the youth replied with a smile.
"Now look at the birds and tell me what you see."

A chorus of answers came instantly, for close observation of all things
is part of the life training of the wild people.

"One has a short tail," said one.

"The big one has a long tail," said another.

"The feathers on its head are all curled and twisted," added a third.
"And they both have long necks and long legs."

"Listen," said Oomah, "and I will tell you why these things are true."

He sat down in the sand and crossed his legs and the group of eager
urchins dropped down in a semi-circle before him.

"In the very beginning of things, many, many changes of the season ago,
the _gura_ and the _chapla_ were just alike," Oomah said impressively,
holding up one hand for further emphasis. "They were married one day
just as the rains were about to stop for good and the floods were going
back into the rivers where they belonged. But, they were not happy.
Before long they quarrelled. The _gura_," holding up the trumpeter, which
was like a turkey without a tail, for such it was, "was forever cackling
and scolding and the _chapla_" pointing to the curassow, which resembled
a turkey with a long tail, "resented this and answered in loud squawks.
Then they began to fight. The _chapla_ pushed the _gura_ into the fire
over which she was cooking and burned off her tail. In rage, the _gura_
pushed her husband into the fire, scorching the feathers on his head so
that they curled up. Now, Wallaha, god of the forest saw the fight and
it made him angry. 'For shame,' he said, 'fighting like that when you
should be peaceful and happy. I will pu