he hearts of her admirers she was at
length fated to receive. She had married an image.

As the morning began to break the stranger arose, adjusted his
warrior's plumes, and took his forest weapons to depart.

"I must go," said he, "for I have important work to do, and there are
many hills and streams between me and the object of my journey."

"I will go with you," said Ma-mon-da-go-Kwa.

"The journey is too long," replied her husband, "and you are ill able
to encounter the perils of the way."

"It is not so long but that I will go," answered his wife, "and there
are no dangers I will not share with you."

Moowis returned to the lodge of his master, and told him what had
occurred. For a moment pity took possession of the young man's heart.
He regretted that she whom he so loved should thus have thrown
herself away upon an image, a shadow, when she might have been the
mistress of the best lodge in the camp.

"It is her own folly," he said; "she has turned a deaf ear to the
counsels of prudence. She must submit to her fate."

The same morning Moowis set forth, and his wife followed him at a
distance. The way was rough and intricate, and she found that she
could not keep up with him, he walked so quickly. She struggled hard
and obstinately to overtake him, but Moowis had been for some time out
of sight when the sun rose and commenced upon his snow-formed body the
work of dissolution. He began to melt away and fall to pieces. As
Ma-mon-da-go-Kwa followed in his track she found piece after piece of
his clothing in the path. She first found his mittens, then his
moccasins, then his leggings, then his coat, and after that other
parts of his garments. As the heat unbound them the clothes also
returned to their filthy condition. Over rocks, through wind-falls,
across marshes, Ma-mon-da-go-Kwa pursued him she loved. The path
turned aside in all directions. Rags, bones, leather, beads, feathers,
and soiled ribbons she found, but caught no sight of Moowis. She spent
the day in wandering, and when evening came she was still alone. The
snow having now melted, she had completely lost her husband's track,
and she wandered about uncertain which way to go and in a state of
perfect despair. At length with bitter cries she lamented her fate.

"Moowis, Moowis," she cried, "nin ge won e win ig, ne won e win
ig!"--"Moowis, Moowis, you have led me astray, you are leading me
astray!"

With this cry she wandered in the woods.

The