But the old man said:

"You have not suffered enough," and went.

Then the hunter took from his breast the shuttle of Imagination, and wound
on it the thread of his Wishes; and all night he sat and wove a net.

In the morning he spread the golden net upon the ground, and into it he
threw a few grains of credulity, which his father had left him, and which
he kept in his breast-pocket. They were like white puff-balls, and when
you trod on them a brown dust flew out. Then he sat by to see what would
happen. The first that came into the net was a snow-white bird, with
dove's eyes, and he sang a beautiful song--"A human-God! a human-God! a
human-God!" it sang. The second that came was black and mystical, with
dark, lovely eyes, that looked into the depths of your soul, and he sang
only this--"Immortality!"

And the hunter took them both in his arms, for he said--

"They are surely of the beautiful family of Truth."

Then came another, green and gold, who sang in a shrill voice, like one
crying in the marketplace,--"Reward after Death! Reward after Death!"

And he said--

"You are not so fair; but you are fair too," and he took it.

And others came, brightly coloured, singing pleasant songs, till all the
grains were finished. And the hunter gathered all his birds together, and