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The great Chief was drowned in the waters of the lake.
Night after night his daughter looks down upon the earth, hoping for a sight of her lost lover. But though the Wind still roams about the earth in search of his bride, he has never, since the Chief's blow fell upon his head, had the power to become visible to men.
And now you will understand why the voice of the Wind is so mournful as it wails about the wigwam; and why the Moon Maiden's pale face is always turned downward toward the earth.
