"But," said Mullyan, the eagle hawk, "I heard babies crying, women
laughing, and men talking, not one but many."
"And I alone am here. Ask of your cars what trick they played you, or
perhaps your eyes fail you now. Can you see any but me? Look for
yourself."
"And if, as indeed it seems, you only are here, what did you with
Beeargah my cousin, and where are my friends? Many are their trails
that I see coming into this camp, but none going out. And if you alone
live here you alone can answer me."
"What know I of you or your friends? Nothing. Ask of the winds that
blow. Ask of Bahloo the moon, who looks down on the earth by night. Ask
of Yhi the sun, that looks down by day. But ask not Weedah, who dwells
alone, and knows naught of your friends." But as Weedah was talking he
was carefully edging Mullyan towards the fire.
Mullyan, the eagle hawk, too, was cunning, and not easy to trap. He saw
a blazing fire in front of him, lie saw the track of his friend behind
him, he saw Weedah was edging him towards the fire, and it came to him
in a moment the thought that if the fire could speak, well could it
tell where were his friends. But the time was not yet come to show that
he had fathomed the mystery. So he affected to fall into the trap. But
when they reached the fire, before Weedah had time to act his usual
part, with a mighty grip Mullyan the eagle hawk seized him, saying,
"Even as you served Beeargah the hawk, my cousin, and my friends, so now
serve I you." And right into the middle of the blazing fire he threw
him. Then he turned homewards in haste, to tell the black fellows that
he had solved the fate of their friends, which had so long been a
mystery. When he was some distance from the Weedah's camp, he heard the
sound of a thunder clap. But it was not thunder it was the bursting of
the back of Weedah's head, which had burst with a bang as of a thunder
clap. And as it burst, out from his remains had risen a bird, Weedah,
the mocking bird; which bird to this day has a hole at the back of his
head, just in the same place as Weedah the black fellow's head had
burst, and whence the bird came forth.
To this day the Weedah makes grass playgrounds, through which he runs,
imitating, as he plays, in quick succession, any voices he has ever
heard, from the crying of a child to the laughing of a woman; from the
mewing of a cat to the barking of a dog, and hence his name Weedah, the
mocking bird.