Once there was a man who wandered all over the earth. He had as his companions many kinds of birds who could not, or would not, talk or sing without his consent. He was a man who talked little but thought much, and noises worried him, especially the noises made by talking-birds like the parrot and the magpie.

In his wanderings he would meet many kinds of people who did not like him, because when they spoke to him he would only say “Yes” or “No” to any questions they would ask. Of course, his attitude toward all he met made them angry, and when he visited the villages the second time, many of the Indians threatened to kill him. The places in which he thought he would be in the most danger he would go around and not show himself or his bird companions, for he was very kind to them, and they held him in great respect, although he had told them he would surely rid himself of their company if they should talk so loud that his enemies could hear them. They also feared him, for many times had they seen the way he had treated other birds, and they knew what his mission was.

One day, after a long walk, they came to the foot of a high hill. Around the hill and coming from afar, they could see great numbers of birds.

“This,” said the man, “is the ‘City of Birds,’ and no man dare go among them. If he should, they would pick his eyes out. Many times have I heard my father tell of his band of beavers who went among them, and of their fate.”

“Let us go!” spoke up a great eagle. “I will defend you. My parents’ nest was on yonder mountain, and I have many relations living among them.”

“As you will,” said the man, “but let us wait until night falls and they are asleep.”

The eagle had been talking matters over with his companions, and they all, with the exception of a few of the smaller birds, decided to go, happen what might. So at dusk they started.

The road was long and dusty, and many times they had to wait for the vain birds to clean their plumage and arrange their feathers, but it was better so, because many of the older birds of the City of Birds had not returned to their nests. The man, although impatient, thought they might have been discovered if this cause for their delay had not happened.

As they approached the city, a night-hawk who was just going to work, gave a wild scream. This caused a great awakening in the town, and all the birds went to the public square in alarm.

The eagle said “Go on.” So the party boldly went among the crowd. Some, I can assure you, were very much frightened; but they had great confidence that some of the relations of the eagle would be living, and would no doubt befriend them.

When the mayor of the town, a great pelican, saw the strange bundle the man carried on his back, he said: “My good brother, what have you on your back?”

“They are my songs,” the man replied.

“Ah!” said the mayor, “sing them, and I will have my troupe of dancing flamingoes keep time to your songs.”

“Those who dance to my songs, and those who do not, if strangers to me, must keep their eyes shut when I sing,” said the man.

The mayor called to the crowd that was chattering so loud his voice could hardly be heard. So he called again:

“Do you agree, my townsmen?”

He opened his mouth so wide that a great fish he had eaten for supper floundered out of his pouch. Before repeating his question he leaned over and picked it up. Again he repeated, “Do you all agree to keep your eyes closed when the gentleman sings?”

“We will do as you desire,” many of them replied.

So it was agreed. A great fountain in the middle of the square contained many fish both large and small. These fish were for the use of the mayor only, as he was getting old, and to climb the long hill from the river made him both tired and cross. So the man said:

“Come near the fountain. My songs are of running water and brooks, and it will inspire me to sing them more to your pleasure.”

So the crowd moved near the big basin full of water, deep and very wet.

“Bring your flamingoes and I will begin,” said the man.

The eagle called him aside and said: “During your song they will know because their eyes are shut, how dark it is for the thousands they have made blind.” The man did not reply, but walked close to the fountain.

“Eyes shut!” he called loudly, and the people all closed their eyes and he began to sing in a harsh voice, for he could not sing, and disliked any kind of music.

All the people smiled but kept their eyes closed, fearing he would stop his funny song. So he continued to wring their necks and throw them into the deep water of the fountain.

After he had treated them all alike, he said to his companions:

“We are quite safe now; let us remain here until morning, as there are many places of shelter and plenty of food.”

So it was agreed, and they resumed their journey about dawn the following day.