dwelt alone on the bank of the river, but one day, being lonely and
dissatisfied with his location, he started to cross the stream. While he
was in deep water a long hair was swept against his legs and held him so
tightly that he narrowly escaped drowning. When he succeeded in reaching
the shore he examined the hair and at once determined to find its owner.
After wandering many days he met the woman and induced her to be his
wife. From this union came all the Mandaya.

[107] See p. 63 note.

[108] Also known as Manway.

[109] Also known as Samay.

A variant of this tale says that both eggs were laid up stream and that
one hatched a woman, the other a snake. The snake went down the current
until it arrived at the place where the sea and the river meet. There it
blew up and a man emerged from its carcass. The balance of the tale is
as just related. This close relationship of the _limokon_ to the Mandaya
is given as the reason why its calls are given such heed. A traveler on
the trail hearing the cooing of this bird at once doubles his fist and
points it in the direction from whence the sound came. If this causes
the hand to point to the right side it is a sign that success will
attend the journey.[110] If, however, it points to the left, in front,
or in back, the Mandaya knows that the omen bird is warning him of
danger or failure, and he delays or gives up his mission. The writer was
once watching some Mandaya as they were clearing a piece of land,
preparatory to the planting. They had labored about two hours when the
call of the _limokon_ was heard to the left of the owner. Without
hesitation the men gathered up their tools and left the plot, explaining