For a stripling, Manabozho was uncommonly wide-awake. Every sight he
beheld in the heavens was a subject of remark, every new animal or bird
an object of deep interest, and every sound was like a new lesson which
he was expected to learn. He often trembled at what he heard and saw.

The first sound he heard was that of the owl, at which he was greatly
terrified, and, quickly descending the tree he had climbed, he ran with
alarm to the lodge. "Noko! noko! grandmother!" he cried. "I have
heard a monedo."

She laughed at his fears, and asked him what kind of a noise it made.
He answered. "It makes a noise like this: ko-ko-ko-ho!"

His grandmother told him he was young and foolish; that what he heard
was only a bird which derived its name from the peculiar noise it made.

He returned to the prairie and continued his watch. As he stood there
looking at the clouds he thought to himself, "It is singular that I am
so simple and my grandmother so wise; and that I have neither father
nor mother. I have never heard a word about them. I must ask and find
out."

He went home and sat down, silent and dejected. Finding that this did
not attract the notice of his grandmother, he began a loud lamentation,
which he kept increasing, louder and louder, till it shook the lodge
and nearly deafened the old grandmother.

"Manabozho, what is the matter with you?" she said, "you are making a
great deal of noise."