leave off her work, till he
told her to prepare the flesh for eating. "Manabozho," said he, "this
is all we eat, and it is all we can give you."

After they had finished eating, Manabozho set out for home, but
intentionally, as before, dropped one of his _minjekawun_, or mittens.
One of the young Moose took it to him, telling him that his father had
sent him with it. He had been cautioned not to hand it to him, but to
throw it at him. Having done so, contrary to the remonstrance of
Manabozho, he was going back, when the latter cried out, "Bakah!
Bakah![29] Is _that_[30] the only kind of meat you eat? Tell me." "Yes,"
answered the young man, "that is all; we have nothing else." "Tell your
father," he replied, "to come and visit me, and I will give him what you
shall eat with your meat." The old Moose listened to this message with
indignity. "I wonder what he thinks he has got, poor fellow!"

He was bound, however, to obey the invitation, and went accordingly,
taking along a cedar sack, for he had been told to bring one. Manabozho
received him in the same manner he had himself been received--repeating
the same remarks, and attempted to supply the lack of food in the same
manner. To this end he had requested his wife to busy herself in making
garters. He arose and untied the covering of her back as he had seen
the Moose do. He then cut her back shockingly, paying no attention to
her cries or resistance, until he saw her fall down, from the loss of
blood. "Manabozho," said the Moose, "you are killing your wife." He
immediately ran for his drum and rattle, and restored her to life by
his skill. He had no sooner done this than Manabozho began to lay the
blame of his ill success on his wife. "Why, Nemesho," said he, "this
woman, this relation of yours--she is making me a most worthless
fellow. Formerly, I procured my meat in this way. But now I can
accomplish nothing."

The Moose then cut large pieces of flesh off his own thighs, without the
least injury to himself, and gave them to Manabozho, saying, with a
contemptuous air, "This is the way _we_ do." He then left the lodge.

After these visits Manabozho was sitting pensively in his lodge one
day, with his head down. He heard the wind whistling around it, and
thought, by attentively listening, he could hear the voice of some one
speaking to him. It seemed to say to him: "Great chief, why are you
sorrowful? Am not I your friend--your guardian Spirit?" He immediately
took