Big Birds’ ceremony
Offering food before the shrine of the Big Birds’ ceremony
“Do the spirits eat the food?” I asked. I had seen my grandfather set food before the two skulls of the Big Birds’ ceremony. “No,” said my grandfather, “They eat the food’s spirit; for the food has a spirit as have all things. When the gods have eaten of its spirit, we often take back the food to eat ourselves.”
I was too well-bred to look up at him, but I did not always hurry to finish my sweeping
My father’s earth lodge and Bear Man’s both faced eastward, with the lodge of Blue Paint’s family standing between; but, as I stood at my father’s lodge entrance, I could see the flat top of Bear Man’s lodge over Blue Paint’s roof. Sacred-Red-Eagle-Wing had joined the Stone Hammer Society a short while before, and had begun to paint his face like a young man. He would get up on his father’s roof, painted, and decked out in hair switch, best leggings, and moccasins, and sing his society’s songs. He had a fine voice, I thought; and when I went out with my buck-brush broom to sweep the ground about our lodge entrance, Sacred-Red-Eagle-Wing would sing harder than ever. I thought perhaps he did this so that I would hear him. I was too well-bred to look up at him, but I did not always hurry to finish my sweeping.
When a man mourned he cut off his hair, painted his body with white clay
In those days, when a man mourned he cut off his hair, painted his body with white clay, and threw away his moccasins. He also cut his flesh with a knife or some sharp weapon. Now when a man sought a vision from the gods, he wept and mourned, that the gods might have pity on him; and for this he went away from the village, alone, into the hills. So it happened, that Snake Head-Ornament, on his way to the hills, went mourning and crying past a field where sat a woman, his clan cousin, on her watch-stage. Seeing him, she began a song to tease him: He said, “I am a young bird!” If a young bird, he should be in his nest; But he comes here looking gray, And wanders about outside the village! He said, “I am a young snake!” If a young snake, he should be in the hills among the red buttes; But he comes here looking gray and crying, And wanders aimlessly about!
I saw that the black-bear skin was bound to one of the posts at the entrance
The next morning when I went out of the lodge, I saw that the black-bear skin was bound to one of the posts at the entrance. This was a sign that my father was going to lead out a war party. I was almost afraid to pass the bear skin, for I knew it was very holy.
Sing louder cousin, sing louder, that I may hear you
But it is never good for a man not to know his faults, and so we let one’s clan cousins tease him 68for any fault he had. Especially was this teasing common between young men and young women. Thus a young man might be unlucky in war. As he passed the fields where the village women hoed their corn, he would hear some mischievous girl, his clan cousin, singing a song taunting him for his ill success. Were any one else to do this, the young man would be ready to fight; but, seeing that the singer was his clan cousin, he would laugh and call out, “Sing louder cousin, sing louder, that I may hear you.”
On his back I saw a handsome otter-skin quiver, full of arrows
We were off the next morning before the sun was up. I walked with my mothers and the other women. The men went a little ahead, armed, some with guns, others with bows. Sacred-Red-Eagle-Wing walked behind the men. On his back I saw a handsome otter-skin quiver, full of arrows. I felt safer to see those arrows. Enemies might be lurking anywhere in the woods, ready to capture us or take our scalps. We Indian women dared not go far into the woods without men to protect us.
Then he arose and took my baby tenderly in his arms
My little son was ten days old the second day we were in winter camp; and, though we were hardly well settled, I found time to make ready his naming feast. Having filled a wooden bowl with venison and boiled dried green 170corn—foods I knew well were to his liking—I set it before Small Ankle. “I want you to name your grandson,” I said to him. Small Ankle ate, thinking the while what name he should give my son. Then he arose and took my baby tenderly in his arms, saying, “I name him Tsakahka Sukkee, Good Bird.” Small Ankle’s gods were birds, and the name was a kind of prayer that they remember and help my little son.