hipeways to be made by
the owl as the south by the butterfly.[106-2] As the bird of night, it
was the fit emissary of him who rules the darkness of the grave.
Something in the looks of the creature as it sapiently stares and blinks
in the light, or perhaps that it works while others sleep, got for it
the character of wisdom. So the Creek priests carried with them as the
badge of their learned profession the stuffed skin of one of these
birds, thus modestly hinting their erudite turn of mind,[106-3] and the
culture hero of the Monquis of California was represented, like Pallas
Athene, having one as his inseparable companion (Venegas).

As the associate of the god of light and air, and as the antithesis
therefore of the owl, the Aztecs reverenced a bird called _quetzal_,
which I believe is a species of parroquet. Its plumage is of a bright
green hue, and was prized extravagantly as a decoration. It was one of
the symbols and part of the name of Quetzalcoatl, their mythical
civilizer, and the prince of all sorts of singing birds, myriads of whom
were fabled to accompany him on his journeys.

The tender and hallowed associations that have so widely shielded the
dove from harm, which for instance Xenophon mentions among the ancient
Persians, were not altogether unknown to the tribes of the New World.
Neither the Hurons nor Mandans would kill them, for they believed they
were inhabited by the souls of the departed,[107-1] and it is said, but
on less satisfactory authority, that they enjoyed similar immunity among
the Mexicans. Their soft and plaintive note and sober russet hue widely
enlisted the sympathy of man, and linked them with his more tender
feelings.

"As wise as the serpent, as harmless as the dove," is an antithesis that
might pass current in any human language. They are the emblems of
complementary, often contrasted qualities. Of all animals, the serpent
is the most mysterious. No wonder it possessed the fancy of the
observant child of nature. Alone of creatures it swiftly progresses
without feet, fins, or wings. "There be three things which are too
wonderful for me, yea, four which I know not," said wise King Solomon;
and the chief of them were, "the way of an eagle in the air, the way of
a serpent upon a rock."

Its sinuous course is like to nothing so much as that of a winding
river, which therefore we often call serpentine. So did the Indians.
Kennebec, a stream in Maine, in the Algonkin means snake, and A