This is what he knew from the dreaming. From what he remembered, this is what he told: the man and the giant were brothers at first. Who knows how long it was before the giant changed into a bird, and then went out with the man to the great arboreal domains. In the man’s eye there was something like a snake, but maybe it was a coiled rope. It unraveled slowly until it had the bird by its foot. The bird was hovering just above the man, and then carried him like a brother to the silky smooth sky, the rolling river sky of their glorious awaiting adventure.
This part may be true: the man and the bird were bound together by more than any rope, more than even their blood. Whatever happened to the one, the other would instantly know it. For example, if the bird were to see from its sturdy perch in the top of a tree a great cloud approaching, the man at the bottom of the tree, sniffing about for edible tubers, would know it and take cover. Why take cover? Well, one must recall that the great clouds of that time were not like today’s rather bland and impersonal clouds, dependently originating and empty of any inherent selves. Rather, they were often filled with angry fish.
Now, even though this was a time before religions, and people were less mean, judgmental, and warlike, clouds filled with angry fish would still occasionally pass over the lands. When they did, the commotion made by foul-tempered cloud critters caused spontaneous shafts of stinging light to descend swiftly to the ground (along with bunches of fishes). These events altered the landscape in ways both terrible and marvelous. They did so by creating massive shining stones out of innocent ponds and lakes.
After the passing of those furious clouds, men would turn into giants and place some of those massive stones in an upright circle. Whatever was left of the water was stored in the center of the circle, and stocked with fallen fish. These fabulous constructions served as a kind of amusement, and also gave the giant people something to do besides digging for tubers, even though the tubers themselves were admittedly delicious and much praised in song and impromptu poetry.
The fish meanwhile grew large and lazy, and some became the first dinosaurs. They climbed over the walls of the great stone circles and lived very long lives thereafter. Witnessing all of this from his perch in the tree, the giant that turned into a bird and its brother the man below became curious and followed the dinosaurs wherever they roamed. They catalogued their fascinating life and times in many imaginatively tall tales which were later passed down to succeeding generations. When foolish men in the distant future eventually lost their ability to make magic with their own words, they collected the old stories and made a book, called the “Bible”, and confused themselves even more.