i

in the lodge of the master

matcikineu, terrible-eagle, sat dozing in the dusk in his round, rush-mat wigwam. the fire smouldered, but random drafts, slipping in through the swinging mat that covered the door, encouraged little dancing flames to spring up, and these illumined the far interior of the lodge, so that it was possible to observe its furnishings down to the mustiest cranny.

around the inner circumference of the wigwam, ran a broad rustic bench, supported by forked sticks and thickly strewn balsam boughs on which lay bearskin robes. the inner wall of the home was hung with woven reed mats, bearing designs in color, of angular figures and conventional floral motifs. over terrible-eagle’s head, on smoke encrusted poles, swung several mat-covered, oval bundles, festooned with age-blackened gourd rattles, war clubs, and utensils and weapons of unusual portent. these were his sacred war and hunting bundles, packets of charms whose use and accompanying formul? he had obtained personally from the gods, while fasting, or purchased at a great price from others more fortunate than he. for terrible-eagle was a renowned war leader, a hunter, and the greatest of all m?tc mit?w?k, masters of the grand medicine society, a secret fraternal and medical organization, to which, in one form or another, nearly every indian of influence in all the great lakes and central western region belonged.

the door covering was quietly thrust aside and an?m, a wolf-like dog, trotted in to curl up by the fire, while after him, first dropping a load of faggots from her shoulders, stumbled wábano-mit?mu, dawn-woman, wife of terrible-eagle, who crouched down grumbling to enter the lodge, and turned on her time-gnarled knees to drag the kindlings in after her.

roused by the noise, terrible-eagle stretched and yawned, then reached over his head and took down a calabash-shell rattle, which he began to shake gently, while dawn-woman shoved aside the 64 birch-bark boxes that cluttered the floor, stirred up the fire in the round, shallow pit where it was glowing, and set among the hot embers a large, round, deep, pointed-bottomed kettle of brown earthenware, the base of which she screwed into the ashes by a quick, circular twist of the rim. into this kettle she poured some water from a birch-bark pail; and, when it began to simmer, added a quantity of wild rice, smoked meat, and dried berries, which she stirred with an elaborate wooden-spoon paddle.

the random swish of terrible-eagle’s rattle now began to articulate itself in the form of a tune, the motif of which might have been borrowed from the night babblings and murmurings of a woodland brook. it rose like the prattle of water racing down stony riffles; it fell to the purring monotone of a little fall burbling into a deep pool.

then, suddenly, terrible-eagle raised his voice in song—a song without meaning to the uninitiated—yet a song potent with the powers of manitous, and ancient as the pine forests.

“ni mánituk, h?wat?kuk, kê’nê?min?m.”

“you, my gods, i am singing to you!”

“look you, old fellow,” cried dawn-woman, squatting beside her cooking, “why do you sing that sacred song? there is no need to rehearse the chants of the manitous when ice binds the rivers, and snow blankets the land! when new life dawns with the grass blades in the spring, then we will need to refresh our memories; not now, while the gods sleep like bears.”

“silence, old partner! you do not know everything! even now there comes one seeking the knowledge of the path our brethren and fellows have trod before us. listen!”

the lodge was hushed with the heavy silence of the wisconsin forest in midwinter. then came the crunch and squeak of approaching snowshoes slipping over the crusted drifts.

“n’hau, dawn-woman! prepare the guest place, spread robes behind the fire, dish out a bowl of soup! some one of our people desires to enter!”

the noise ceased before the doorway, and terrible-eagle, now hunched before the fire, paused before dropping a hot coal on the tobacco in his red stone pipe, to bid the guest to enter. “yoh!” came the hearty response, and a tall, dark warrior, bareheaded save 65 for a fillet of otter fur around his brows, ducked under the doorway and silently passed round the fire, on the left, to the guest place, where he seated himself, cross-legged, on a pile of robes. he was clad in a plain shirt of blue-dyed deerskin, deeply fringed on the seams, in flapping, leather leggings, high soft-soled moccasins, and a leather apron handsomely embroidered with colored porcupine quills wrought in delicate, flowered figures. he bore no weapon, and on his swarthy cheeks two round spots of red paint were seen in the firelight.

after the newcomer had eaten a bowl of steaming stew with the aid of a huge, wooden ladle, he lay back among the robes, puffing comfortably on a long-stemmed pipe with bowl of red stone, filled and lighted for him by the old man. as the cheerful odor of tobacco and kinnikinick permeated the lodge, the stranger began to speak. he informed the old people that his name was muhw?sê, little-wolf, of the wave clan of the menomini, that he had come all the way from m?tc suam?ko, the great sand bar village on the green bay of lake michigan; that the young men had opened their war bundles, and danced preparatory to going to war against the sauk, but that the sauk had heard the news and fled southward. he ended with all the gossip and tittle-tattle of his band.

it was not until dawn-woman slept, and the stars were visible in the winter sky through the smoke hole of the lodge, that little-wolf went out abruptly, and returned bearing a huge bundle which he dumped on the floor at the feet of terrible-eagle, and silently took his place on the lounge once more.

with trembling hands the old man undid the leathern thongs and unwrapped the bearskin with which the bundle was enclosed, and spread before him an array of articles that brought an avaricious sparkle to his red-rimmed eyes.

“nimá, nékan! well done, my colleague!” he exclaimed. “these are valuable gifts, and in the proper number. four hatchets, four spears, and four knives of the sacred yellow rock (native copper), four belts of white wampum, and four garments of tanned deerskin, embroidered with quillwork, with much tobacco. surely this gift has a meaning?”

“grandfather! you to whom nothing is hard,” replied the visitor. “it is true that i am nobody. i am poor—the enemy 66 scarcely know my name. yet i am desirous of eating the food of the medicine lodge, as all the brethren have done who have passed this way before me!”

“n’hau, my grandson! i shall call together the three other pushw?w?k, or masters, for their consent. what you have asked for, may seem as nothing to you—yet it is life. these songs may appear to partake of the ways of children—yet they are powerful. i understand you well; you desire to imitate the ways of our own ancient grand master, m?’n?bus, who was slain and brought to life that we might gain life unending! good! you have done well. in the morning i shall send invitation-sticks and tobacco to summon the leaders here, that your instruction may begin at once!”

ii

the instruction

it was an hour after sunset. in the rear of the lodge sat terrible-eagle and three other old men, with little-wolf at their left. before them lay the pile of valuable gifts, and, on the white-tanned skin of an unborn fawn, stood the sacred towaka or deep drum, hollowed by infinite labor from a short section of a basswood log, holding two fingers’ depth of water to make its voice resonant, and covered with a dampened membrane of tanned, buck hide. across its head was balanced a crooked drumstick, its striking end carved to represent a loon’s beak. before the drum, was placed a wooden bowl in the shape of a minature, log canoe heaped with tobacco, and four gourd rattles with wooden handles which shone from age and usage. a youth tended the fire and kept the air redolent with incense of burning sweet grass and cedar. dawn-woman and an?m, the dog, guarded the door.

extending his hands over the sacred articles before them, terrible-eagle began a prayer of invocation, calling on the mythical hero and founder of the medicine lodge, m?’n?bus, on the great spirit, the sun, and the thunder-birds; on the good-god powers or manitous of air and earth, and also upon the evil powers who dwell in and under the earth and water and hidden in the dismal places of the world, to appear in spirit and accept the tobacco offered them and to dedicate the fees presented to the instructors.

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when the prayer was ended, all those gathered in the wigwam ejaculated “hau,” and three of the elders smoked and listened while terrible-eagle began the instruction by relating the history of the origin of the medicine lodge. taking the drumstick in his hand, terrible-eagle gave four distinct strokes on the drum, and recited in a rhythmic and solemn tone, hushing his voice to a whisper when it became necessary to mention a great power by name.

he told how m?tc h?w?t?k, the great spirit, sat alone in the heavenly void above the ever extending sea, and willed that an island (the world) should appear there; how he further willed that there should spring up upon this island, an old woman who was known as “our grandmother, the earth.” he recited how the earth grandmother conceived, supernaturally, and gave birth to a daughter. how the four winds, desiring to be born as men, entered the daughter’s body and lay as twins in her womb, and how, when the hour of their birth came, so great was their power, they burst their mother, making women forever after liable to death in travail.

“then,” related terrible-eagle, “our earth grandmother gathered up the shattered pieces of her daughter, and placed them under an inverted, wooden bowl, and prayed, and on the fourth day, through the pity of the great spirit, the fragments were changed into a little rabbit, who was named m?tc wábus, or the great hare, since corrupted into ‘m?’n?bus,’ who was to prepare the world for human habitation.

“the rabbit grew, in human form, to man’s estate, when he was given, as a companion and younger brother, a little wolf, but the powers below, being jealous, slew the wolf brother. then, m?’n?bus in his wrath attacked the powers below, and, as he was the child of the great spirit, they could not resist him. in fear the evil powers restored his younger brother to life, but, since he had been dead four days, the flesh dropped from his bones and he stank, and m?’n?bus, in sorrow, refused to receive him, and sent him to rule the dead in the after world, at the end of the milky way in the western heavens. hence, human beings may not come back to life on the fourth day.

“at their wits’ end to appease m?’n?bus, the evil ones called on the powers above who are of good portent. they erected a medicine lodge on the high hilltops, oblong, rectangular, facing east and west. the power of the winds roofed it with blue sky and 68 white clouds. the pole framework was bound with living, hissing serpents instead of basswood strings, the food for feasting was seasoned with a pinch of the blue sky itself. then the powers entered. the gods of evil took the north side where darkness and cold abide; the good powers above sat on the south. then they all stripped off the animal natures with which they were disguised, and hung them on the wall of the lodge, and all appeared in their true forms, as aged persons.

“in council, guided by the admonitions of the great spirit, they decided to give to m?’n?bus the ritual of the lodge, with its secret—long life and immortality for mankind—as a bribe to cease his molestation. but m?’n?bus refused to receive their message, until otter volunteered to fetch him. then m?’n?bus came, and was duly instructed and raised, by being slain and brought to life again, thus showing the great potency of the powers who owned the lodge.

“this very ceremony, just as it was given m?’n?bus, and later transferred to us, his uncles and aunts, with its rites, formulas, and medicines, is the same,” concluded terrible-eagle, “as we perform to-day, as all the brethren and fellows have done who have passed this way before us, since the menomini came out of the ground, in the past.” as he ended the old man struck the drum four times, crying, “my colleagues, my colleagues, my colleagues, my colleagues!”

when terrible-eagle had concluded his part, there was a recess for refreshment and relaxation, which lasted until each had smoked, then another old pushw?o or master took up the work. he it was who related to the candidate the identity of the powers above and below who had given the medicine lodge to mankind, through m?’n?bus. there were, he said, four groups of evil powers, who sat on the north side of the lodge. first were the otter, mink, marten, and weasel; second the bear, panther, wolf, and horned owl; third the banded rattlesnake, the little prairie rattlesnake, the pine snake, and the hog-nosed snake. the fourth group was composed of lesser birds and beasts. the upper world which had not offended m?’n?bus, was not so well represented, and was composed of various predatory birds, such as the red-shouldered hawk and the sparrow-hawks. these sat on the south side, and, in ancient days, human lodge members had been seated according to the nature of their medicine bags.

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the skins of any of these animals might be used as containers or sacks for the secret nostrums of the craft, but the dog and fox, which were formerly associated with the wolf, had, by their cunning and their custom of eating filth and carrion, become too closely associated with witchcraft, and were now tabu.

the old master then told the candidates that each of these animals had donated some special power to aid mankind. thus the weasel gave cunning and ferocity in war and the chase, the snapping-turtle, probably one of the vague fourth group of evil powers, had given his heart, which beats long after it is torn from his bosom, to grant long life. each animal had four songs sung in his honor during the session of the lodge, said the elder, and the third instructor would teach these to the candidate.

the old master informed his pupil that in his opinion the medicine lodge and its rites were found far to the east, in the country by the great sea where the dawn rises, for he had once met a party of warriors, from the far off nottoway or iroquois, who spoke of a society and its ritual, given them by the animals, which had for its object long life and immortality for men.

dawn-woman now fetched steaming rice and fat venison, marrow-bones and dried berries, and the little party feasted. the hour was very late, yet none thought of sleep. after the feast, the third elder did his part.

he selected a calabash rattle, and, sometimes rattling, sometimes drumming an accompaniment, taught the songs of the lodge to little-wolf. there were songs of opening and songs of closing, as well as the animal songs, each repeated four times, the sacred number, and each in groups of four. each was made obscure and unintelligible to eavesdroppers by the addition of nonsense syllables. some, indeed, were so ancient, and so clouded by vocables, that nothing but their general meaning was remembered even by the brethren. these passed for songs in a secret, magic language. some chants were in other languages, particularly ojibway, and all ended with the mystic phrase “we-ho-ho-ho-ho,” which meant “so mote it be.” the songs had titles, but these names too, were magic, and often gave no inkling of the meaning or wording of the song, and most of them avoided naming the animals or gods to which they referred, except by circumlocution, or by merely mentioning some prominent characteristic or attribute of the creature.

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there were songs for the “shooting of the medicine”—an act which was so secret and mysterious that the candidate was as yet kept in the dark as to its meaning—and others for dancing, for thanksgiving and for dedication.

when the third elder had ended his synopsis of the songs, which the candidate had later to purchase and learn at leisure, the fourth and last past master took him in hand. his part, he said, was short, yet important. he showed the candidate certain articles which would be ceremonially given to the candidate at the proper time and place. among these articles was the tanned skin of an otter, the nostrils of which were stuffed with tufts of red-dyed hawk-down, the under surfaces of the four feet and tail being adorned with fringed rectangles of blue-dyed doe leather, embroidered with conventional flower designs in colored porcupine hair and quills. this was to be the medicine bag of the new member. through an opening, a slit in the chest of the otter, one could thrust a hand, and find in the little pouch made by the skin of the left forefoot of the animal, a small sea shell, called the kon?p?m?k, or medicine arrow, by which the essence of all the sacred objects contained in the bag was ceremonially “shot” or transferred to the bodies of the lodge brethren during the performance of the ritual.

three other medicines the otter-skin contained. there were sacred, blue face-paint, the color of the sky; a mysterious brown powder holding a seed, wrapped in a packet with a fresh water clamshell; and another mixture of pounded roots called “reviver,” or apisétchikun.

the clamshell was a sacred, ancient cup, in which the accompanying powder and seed were placed with a little water, and given to all candidates to drink. the mystic seed was supposed to be the badge of the medicine lodge, and was to remain in the candidate’s breast, forever, even until he had followed the pathway of the dead along the milky way. the “reviver” was a powerful drug for use at all times when life ebbed low, through sickness or magic.

“these then,” said the last instructor, “are the ways and sacred things of m?’n?bus, given us indians to have and use, as long as the world shall stand!”

so saying, he in turn retired, and the party rolled in their blankets to sleep before the sun could look in through the smoke hole of the wigwam.

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iii

the initiation

it was the season when buds burst, and the young owls, hatched while the snow was yet on the ground, were already taking their prey. the discordant croaking of the frogs came as a roar from the marshlands. the arbutus was blooming.

perched on the top of a warm, sunny knoll, was an oblong, dome-roofed structure of poles, covered with bark and rush mats. it was oriented east and west, and its length, a full hundred feet, contrasted oddly with its breadth of twenty.

it was the evening of the fourth day of the mit?wiwin, or medicine ceremony. the preceding three days and nights had been spent by the four masters, led by terrible-eagle, in preparing little-wolf within a room, formed by curtaining off one end of the lodge proper; in giving him his ceremonial sweat bath of purification; and in hanging the initiation fees, four sets of valuable goods—clothing, robes, weapons, copper utensils—on the ridgepole at the eastern end of the lodge; and in dedicating them.

as the sun set, the four old men and the candidate entered the lodge, followed by the men and women of the tribe who were already members of the society. going in at the eastern door, the procession filed along the north side, and passing once regularly around, the people seated themselves on the right of the door, with the candidate on the west side of them, next to terrible-eagle.

the night having largely passed in quiescence and instruction, towards dawn an officer of the lodge approached little-wolf, and stood before him, facing the east. thrusting his hand into his medicine bag he drew forth his sacred clamshell cup and the powder containing the seed, which he compounded into a drink, while he sang a song called “what otter keeps.”

“i am preparing the thing that was hung [the little seed],

and that which was hung shall fall!”

when he had finished, and little-wolf had swallowed the draft, this officer retired, and another came forward and took his place, singing. as he ended, he stooped over, coughed and retched violently until he cast forth a sea shell, which he held in the palm of his 72 hand, and, chanting, displayed to the east, west, south, and north, after which he caused little-wolf to swallow it, that it might remain in his body forever: the symbol of immortality, and the badge of a lodge member. when this had been accomplished the assistant gave place to a third, who sang his four songs and painted the candidate’s face with the sacred, blue paint. then a fourth and last assistant came before the candidate and the masters, bearing an otter-skin, medicine bag, which he laid at little-wolf’s feet, while he sang four songs concerning otter, the most famous of which was entitled yom mit?wakeu, or “this medicine land,” but which held no reference to otters whatever!

now the old men conducted the candidate, four times regularly around the lodge, while they related to him somewhat of the story of the ancient master m?’n?bus, whom he now represented. on the last circuit terrible-eagle led him to a seat near the western end of the lodge, and there placed him, facing the east; remaining with the candidate standing behind, and holding his shoulders.

the men and women seated around the walls of the lodge sat tense. the silence was unbroken save for woodland sounds, for the great, dramatic moment had arrived.

the four assistant masters, who had just performed before little-wolf, now assembled in the east, facing him, and the first, taking his medicine bag in his two hands, and holding it breast high before his body, sang, to the rapid beat of the drum, a song entitled “shooting the new member.” at its end he gave the usual sacred cry “oh we ho ho ho ho!” blew on the head of the otter-skin, and rushed forward as though to attack the candidate.

in front of the neophyte impersonator of the ancient hero the attacker paused, and jerked the head of his otter upward, crying savagely, “ya ha ha ha ha!” the magical essence of the bag supposedly striking the candidate, he staggered slightly, but was steadied by a companion, only to meet the feigned attacks of the second and third assistants, at each of which he reeled once more. but the charge of the fourth fellow was so violent that the candidate fell flat on the ground. stooping, the last man laid the medicine bag across the back of the apparently unconscious brother, to be his, thereafter. at a sign from terrible-eagle, the four assistants approached the prostrate candidate, and raising him to his feet,73 shoo__ him gently to remove their shots and restore him to life.

and now all was rejoicing. steaming earthen kettles were carried in, filled with delicious stews and soups of bear and turtle flesh, partridges, and young ducks. laughing, jesting, and good-natured banter filled the lodge until the last wooden bowl was scraped clean, when the utensils and scraps were carried out, and the drummer struck up a lively dancing tune. after the men and women had had each four sets of songs, a general dance took place, wherein the members circled the lodge, the new brother among them, shooting each other promiscuously with jollity, vying with each other to rise and point their bags or fall prone on the earth. all the time a loud and lively chant was sung:

i

“i pass through them! i pass through them! i pass through even the chief!”

ii

“ye gods take part, invisible though ye be beneath us!”

when all was over, and keso, the sun, was almost noon high, the four assistants took down the invitation fees from the ridgepole, and distributed them to the four old masters and the others who had taken prominent part in the ceremonial, and all the indians filed out of the western door, singing:

“you, my brethren, i pass my hand over you. i thank you.”

muhw?sê, little-wolf, watched the last of his companions strike their camps; saw the coverings stripped from the lodge structure, saw the last party vanish in the brush.

he was a mit?o! a member of a great fraternal organization, who might travel westward to the foothills of the rockies, north to the barren lands, south to the countries of the iowa and oto, east to the land of the iroquois, and find brethren who had traveled the same road, or at least one fundamentally similar. he had shown his fortitude and fidelity, those two great, cardinal virtues of the medicine lodge, and he had come through the sacred mysteries alive and in possession of the secret rites that had been handed down since the days when the menomini first came out of the ground.

alanson skinner