CHAPTER VI
MY ADOPTION BY MAD WOLF
Near the end of summer, I met Mad Wolf on the prairie. He was alone and signed that he wanted to talk with me. He was mounted on a restless bronco, and held a rawhide quirt in his hand. From his neck hung a bone whistle, made from the wing of an eagle; and in his hair a single eagle feather stood erect. He dismounted from his horse and stood waiting; and when I came to him, he shook hands; then looked earnestly into my face, and said:
“From the time you first came to live in my country, I have been watching you, and my heart feels warm towards you. I have never taken a son from the white men; now I want to adopt you, because I believe that some day you will be a chief among your people. I am growing old, and it is probable that I shall go before you to dwell with the Great Spirit, for you are still a young man. After I am gone, you will then be left, to help and to advise my people.”
I told Mad Wolf that I wanted to be his son. He pointed towards the north and said:
“My lodge is out yonder on the prairie. It is beyond that long range of hills and cannot be seen from here. Come to-morrow when the sun is high. I will hold a ceremony. I will paint you with the sacred paint; and in the presence of my relatives and friends, will adopt you as my son.”
In after years, I saw more clearly Mad Wolf’s purpose in taking a white son. His tribe were rulers of a vast domain of plains and forest-covered mountains. Great herds of buffalo and other game furnished them with an abundance of meat for food and skins for clothes and shelter. But the coming of the white man caused the disintegration of his tribe. The herds of wild animals quickly disappeared and with them the chief support of the Indians. An advancing tide of white settlers came like the invasion of an enemy; they introduced smallpox, measles, scarlet fever, and other contagious diseases. The white men were shrewd and unprincipled. They traded whiskey and debauched the Indians; they occupied their country; they always got the best of them in their deals. Indian children were sent to white men’s schools; they did not learn their native tongue; old tribal customs, traditions, and religion were no longer handed down.
When a white man whom he trusted came to live among his people, Mad Wolf decided to adopt him as his son. He foresaw the doom of his tribe. He wanted a son among the white men upon whom he could depend; one able to help his tribe, who would go to the Great Father at Washington and intercede in their behalf. The old chief was wise; he saw that an Indian could not accomplish his purpose.
The following morning, I rode Kutenai across the prairie in search of Mad Wolf’s summer camp. From the summit of a ridge, I saw the white tepees in a meadow amid grass-covered hills. The sky was overcast and a strong wind shook the lodges, which were anchored to the ground by long ropes around their tops. I heard the sound of chanting and beating of drums. For a moment I waited on the hill, listening to the weird singing and thinking of the days when the lodges of Mad Wolf’s tribe were numbered by thousands and they were the rulers of their country.
After the song had ceased, I rode down from the hill. Dismounting before the large lodge of the chief, I lifted the door-flap and looked inside. Mad Wolf saw me and shouted, “Okye!” (Welcome.) I entered and saw Mad Wolf seated at the back, the position of honor, with the fire between himself and the door. He shook hands and motioned me to a place at his left, among the other men, and said: “Bring a robe for him to sit upon.” Morning Plume, who was nearest, greeted me with a smile and made ready my seat. Other Indians present were, Blessed Weasel, Heavy Breast, Double Runner, Middle Calf, Bear Child, and Many-White-Horses, so named because he owned many horses of that color. The men were all seated on Mad Wolf’s left, the women and children on his right.
Between Mad Wolf and his wife Gives-to-the-Sun, who sat on his right, lay the sacred Beaver Bundle. It contained the skins of beaver and other wild animals, which were believed to contribute Sun Power to the Bundle.1 It was opened in a religious ceremony, given in behalf of the sick, or on other important occasions. From the lodge-poles hung beaded clothing and sacred bundles with long leather fringes hanging from their sides and decorated with painted designs.
Mad Wolf was a noble specimen of Indian chief. His long gray hair fell loosely over his shoulders, and his face had a kindly and benign expression. He was large in stature and of majestic presence, with broad forehead and high cheek bones, keen eyes and firm mouth. From the waist up his body was bare. He had broad shoulders and chest and his arms were muscular and well formed, like those of a young man. He wore leggings of deerskin, moccasins decorated with colored porcupine quills and necklaces of deer bones and bear claws. A medicine whistle, with which he led his beaver ceremony, hung by a thong from his neck.
All sat in silence, waiting for the ceremony of adoption to begin. Then Gives-to-the-Sun, wife of the chief, whispered to a young woman; she straightway rose and stirred a large kettle of service-berries and tongue, which was cooking on the fire. Mad Wolf pointed to her and said to me: “She is your Indian sister, Strikes-on-Both-Sides. We gave her that name because, in battle, I once struck down enemies on both sides.”
Gives-to-the-Sun brought forth a forked stick. She went to the fire, and, lifting out a live coal, placed it in front of Mad Wolf, who burned dried sweet grass upon it. Soon a fragrant perfume like incense filled the lodge; and they began to sing a low chant in a minor key, in which all the Indians joined.
Then Mad Wolf and his wife knelt by the burning sweet grass; they placed their hands in the rising smoke; they seemed to grasp the smoke; they rubbed it over their bodies and passed it over their heads, shoulders and arms; they breathed it in; thus purifying themselves without and within.
Suddenly the clouds broke and the sun shone into the lodge. Its bright rays came through the smoke hole and lighted up the ground in front of Mad Wolf. Again he held his hands in the smoke of the burning sweet grass. He passed them over his arms and breast for a blessing; and turning his face towards the sun, he chanted:
“See! Our Father, the Sun, shines into the lodge.
His power is very strong.
At night our Mother, the Moon, shines into the lodge.
Her power is very strong.
I pray Morning Star to shine into the lodge and bring long life.”
Mad Wolf took a willow branch, which was painted red. He placed it in turn on his right and left shoulders, and prayed for long life. He handed the branch to me; and I laid it on both my shoulders, while he prayed to the Sun that I might live to be old. Then the branch was passed round the lodge for every one to pray with.
Mad Wolf and Gives-to-the-Sun knelt by a long bundle and sang four times. After the fourth song, they began to loosen the thongs of the bundle, but they still sang, chanting a slower and more monotonous song. After the thongs had been untied, Mad Wolf chanted and prayed and removed the cover, revealing a large redstone pipe. For a moment the old chief bent over it in silence; then raised it slowly and tenderly, addressing it in a soft caressing voice; he pressed it to his lips and prayed to it. He passed it over his arms for a blessing, then over his shoulders and both sides of his head. Again he chanted, moving the pipe in time with his song:
“Pity us! O Sun! O Moon! O Stars!
Mother Earth! Pity us! Pity Us!
Give us food and drink.
Bless our children, may their trails lie straight.”
Mad Wolf passed the pipe to Blessed Weasel, who held it before his face; he prayed long and earnestly with bowed head. Then Blessed Weasel handed the pipe to me. I held it reverently for a moment and passed it to Morning Plume; and thus it went round the lodge, until it came to the women, who also prayed with it, and passed it over the bodies of their little children, believing it would help them, too. People who did not pray, went through the motions of touching the pipe to both sides of their heads and shoulders. Some prayed aloud and others only whispered. But every one who prayed made the sign for receiving a blessing, and, at the same time wished for something.
Finally the pipe came back to Mad Wolf. He arose and danced round the fire with it, while the others sang in unison. He moved the pipe in time with the song, blowing on his medicine whistle, and facing, first towards the east, then south, west and north, following the direction of the sun’s course through the heavens. After he sat down, the pipe was passed around the lodge for every one to smoke.
Then Mad Wolf turned his face towards the Beaver Bundle, which contained the skins of many birds and animals. He prayed solemnly and earnestly:
“Hear! Above-Spirits and Underground-Spirits, birds and animals, our secret helpers. Pity us! Pity us! Give us long life! May we live to be old! Listen, Spirits! This young man with the light hair, let him live. Care for him and let no harm come to him from evil men or wild animals. May all his relatives live long and have plenty. Let our young people grow, and our men, women, and children have a full life and be happy.”
At the end of the prayer, all in the lodge united in a long-drawn “Ah-h-h-h-h,” meaning “Yes” or “Amen.”
Then Mad Wolf brought forth a small pouch of red clay, the sacred paint. There was an impressive silence while he prepared it in his hands, and said: “Now is the time for my white son to come.” He motioned to me. I went before him and knelt, while he painted my forehead, chin, and both cheeks, describing a circle and representing the sun’s daily course through the heavens. He took a beaver-skin from his sacred bundle, and passed it down both sides of my head, shoulders, and arms; then ended with an upward sweep, by which he imparted his blessing, and prayed:
“Before you, my Father, Great Sun Chief,
I now adopt this white man as my son.
Let the red paint be like the sunlight,
To protect and bring him health and strength.
May all my people be kind and help him,
That he may be happy, as long as he remains among his Indian brothers and sisters.
My Father, the Sun, keep him from harm,
When he goes again to his home towards the rising sun.
Give him light by day,
That his path may be free from danger.
If he should go into the wrong trail,
Lead him safely back,
That his path may be firm and downhill to old age.”
MAD WOLF’S SACRED BEAVER BUNDLE
After the prayer, Mad Wolf and Blessed Weasel opened a bundle of buffalo and elk hides, which were spread before the men. Rattles of rawhide, containing small pebbles, were also distributed among them for beating on the hides. Mad Wolf handed two of the rattles to me and said: “You are now my son and should take part in the ceremony.” Then kneeling with the Indians, I joined in the chants and in beating time with my rattles on a buffalo hide.
One song we sang represented a porcupine on a hill, watching a beaver at work. The porcupine said: “I will take my bow and arrows and kill you.” But the beaver escaped by swimming under the water. We also sang the song of the war eagle, soaring high over the mountains and at times swooping down for its prey.
At sunset Mad Wolf brought the ceremony to a close with the prayer:
“Father, the Sun! Continue to give us light,
That the leaves and grass may grow.
May our cattle increase, and our children live to be old.
Mother, the Moon! Give us sleep,
That we may rise again like our Father, the Sun.
May our lives be strong.
May our hearts feel good towards our white brothers,
We are all your children.”
After the feast of soup made of service berries and tongue, Mad Wolf made a sign that the ceremony was over; and all rose and filed out of the lodge.
1 For descriptions of Beaver Bundle, see Chapters VII and VIII. ↑
