"I suppose that in the beginning of things
, when the gods made mankind, that there were many families of Man. And the gods told them all that the world was a very large place, and that Man could know as much of the world as the gods did.
And some of these families looked around at the world, and decided that they would only choose to know what was behind the borders of their own groves in the forest. And other families, in their groves, decided that they would only know what was in their own villages, that it was too much trouble to see what else was there. And one family, that they would only know what lay within the hearth of their own household, and why should they know anything of anothers? And finally one Man, deciding that he would only know what was within his own skin.
Of course, the closer and closer the bounds of their world closed in, they were squashed smaller and smaller. Until all but one of the families of Man, were so small that they barely looked like specks crawling upon a tiny patch of ground, because that was all they were willing to know. And what should happen then, but that the Tamandua should pass by, the second-child of the gods, to eat up these silly families of men, and all they knew was the sticky tongue of the Tamandua, and the sudden swallowing down his throat.
And the one family of Men that remained, stayed big enough, bigger even than the Tamandua, because they thought it was right to take their gift of knowledge, and try to see as far as they could."