Manabozho started off again with his doleful hubbub, but succeeded in
jerking out between his big sobs, "I haven't got any father nor mother,
I haven't."

Knowing that he was of a wicked and revengeful nature, his grandmother
dreaded to tell him the story of his parentage, as she knew he would
make trouble of it.

Manabozho renewed his cries and managed to throw out for a third or
fourth time, his sorrowful lament that he was a poor unfortunate who
had no parents or relatives.

At last she said to him, to quiet him, "Yes, you have a father and
three brothers living. Your mother is dead. She was taken for a wife
by your father, the West, without the consent of her parents. Your
brothers are the North, East, and South; and being older than you your
father has given them great power with the winds, according to their
names. You are the youngest of his children. I have nursed you from
your infancy, for your mother died when you were born."

"I am glad my father is living," said Manabozho, "I shall set out in
the morning to visit him."

His grandmother would have discouraged him, saying it was a long
distance to the place where his father, Ningabinn, or the West, lived.

This information seemed rather to please than to discourage Manabozho,
for by this time he had grown to such a size and strength that he had
been compelled to leave the narrow shelter of his grandmother's lodge
and live out of doors. He was so tall that, if he had been so