cooped him out and went
home. In a short time the Manito who had taken her away asked her for
water to drink. The lodge in which they lived was partitioned. He
occupied a secret place, and was never seen by any one but the woman.
She handed him the water containing the hair-snake, which he drank,
with the snake, and soon after was a dead Manito.

Bokwewa then resumed his former shape. He went to his brother, and used
every means to reclaim him. But he would not listen. He was so much
taken up with the pleasures and dissipations into which he had fallen,
that he refused to give them up, although Bokwewa, with tears, tried to
convince him of his foolishness, and to show him that those pleasures
could not endure for a long time. Finding that he was past reclaiming,
Bokwewa left him, and disappeared forever.

[91] _i.e._, the sudden stopping of a voice.

AGGODAGAUDA AND HIS DAUGHTER,

OR

THE MAN WITH HIS LEG TIED UP.

The prairie and forest tribes were once at war, and it required the
keenest eyes to keep out of the way of danger. Aggodagauda lived on the
borders, in the forests, but he was in a by-place not easy to find. He
was a successful hunter and fisher, although he had, by some mischance,
lost the use of one of his legs. So he had it tied, and looped up, and
got over the ground by hopping.

Use had given him great power in the sound leg, and he could hop to a
distance, which was surprising. There was nobody in the country who
could outgo him on a hunt. Even Paup-Puk-keewiss, in his best days,
could hardly excel him. But he had a great enemy in the chief or king
of the buffaloes, who frequently passed over the plains with the force
of a tempest. It was a peculiarity of Aggodagauda, that he had an only
child, a daughter, who was very beautiful, whom it was the aim of this
enemy to carry off, and he had to exert his skill to guard her from the
inroad of his great and wily opponent. To protect her the better, he
had built a log house, and it was only on the roof of this that he
could permit his daughter to take the open air, and disport herself.
Now her hair was so long, that when she untied it, the raven locks hung
down to the ground.

One fine morning, the father had prepared himself to go out a fishing,
but before leaving the lodge put her on her guard against their arch
enemy. "The sun shines," said he, "and the buffalo chief will be apt to
move this way before the sun gets to the middle poin