He shot no more wild fowl; what were they to him?
"'What ails him ?' said his comrades.
"'He is mad,' said one.
"'No; but he is worse,' said another; 'he would see that which none of us have seen, and make himself a wonder.' "'Come, let us forswear his company,' said all.
"So the hunter walked alone.
"One night, as he wandered in the shade, very heartsore and weeping, an old man stood before him, grander and taller than the sons of men.
"'Who are you ?' asked the hunter.
"'I am Wisdom,' answered the old man; 'but some men call me Knowledge.
All my life I have grown in these valleys; but no man sees me till he has sorrowed much.

The eyes must be washed with tears that are to behold me; and, according as a man has suffered, I speak.' "And the hunter cried: "'Oh, you who have lived here so long, tell me, what is that great wild bird I have seen sailing in the blue?
They would have me believe she is a dream; the shadow of my own head.' "The old man smiled.
"'Her name is Truth.

He who has once seen her never rests again.

Till death he desires her.' "And the hunter cried: "'Oh, tell me where I may find her.' "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.