Mr. Catlin relates a curious account of rain making of which he was a witness. There had been a drought for some time in the land, and the rain makers had been at work for three days. On the first day a man named Wah-kee, or the Shield, essayed his fortune, and failed. The same fate befell Om-pah, or the Elk, in spite of his headdress made of the skin of the raven, the bird that soars amid the storm. Wa-rah-pa, or the Beaver, also tried and failed; and on the fourth day Wak-a-dah-ha-hee, the White Buffalo Hair, took his stand on the lodge. He placed his chief reliance on the red lightnings with which he had painted his shield, and the single arrow which he carried in his hand.
He made an oration to the people, saying that he was willing to sacrifice himself for the good of the tribe, and either to bring rain or live with the dogs and old women all his life. He explained that one candidate had failed because the shield warded off the rain clouds; that the second failed because the raven was a bird that soared above the storm, and so did not care whether it rained or not; and the third failed because the beaver was always wet, and did not require rain. But as for himself, the red lightnings on his shield should bring the black thunder-cloud, and his arrow should pierce the cloud and pour the water on the fields.
Now it happened that just at that time a steamboat, the first that had ever been up the Missouri, fired a salute from a twelve-pounder gun, as she came in sight of the Mandan village. The sound of the gun was naturally taken for thunder, and the village was filled with joy. Valuable gifts were presented on all sides to the successful candidate, mothers were bringing their daughters to offer them as his wives, and the medicine men were issuing from their lodge in order to admit him formally among themselves.
Suddenly, from his elevated post, Wak-a-dah-ha-hee saw the steamboat ploughing her way up the river, and emitting the thunder from her sides. He turned to the chiefs and the assembled multitude, and told them that, though the sounds were not those of thunder, his medicine was strong, and had brought a thunder-boat to the village. The whole population thronged to the bank in silent wonder, and in the excitement of the time even the rain maker was forgotten. The passengers landed among the Mandans, and for the rest of the day all was turmoil and confusion. Just before sunset the White Buffalo Hair spied a black cloud creeping up from the horizon, unnoticed by the excited crowd. In a moment he was on the roof of the council-house again, his bow strung and the arrow brandished in his hand. He renewed his boastings and adjurations, and as the cloud came over the village, he bent his bow and shot his arrow into the sky. Down came the rain in torrents, drenching the fortunate rain maker as he stood on the roof, still brandishing his thunder shield and vaunting its power.
The storm continued during the night, but unfortunately a flash of lightning entered a lodge, and killed a young girl. Consternation reigned throughout the village, and no one was more frightened than the newly-made medicine man, who feared that the Council would hold him responsible for the girl’s fate, and condemn him to a cruel death. Moreover, he really considered that he was in some way responsible, as he had left the top of the council-house before he had brought rain.
So, early in the morning, he sent his friends to bring him his three horses, and, as the sun rose, he again mounted the lodge and addressed the people. His medicine was too strong, he said. “I am young, and I was too fast. I knew not where to stop. The wigwam of Mah-sish is laid low, and many are the eyes that weep for Ko-ka (the Antelope). Wak-a-dah-ha-hee gives three horses to gladden the hearts of those that weep for Ko-ka. His medicine is great. His arrow pierced the black cloud, and the lightning came, and the thunder boat also. Who says that the medicine of Wak-a-dah-ha-hee is not strong?” This ingenious address was received with shouts of applause, and from that time to his death Wak-a-dah-ha-hee was known by the honorable title of the “Big Double Medicine.”
We will now glance at the medicine bag, which plays so important a part among all the tribes of North America.
When a boy is fourteen or fifteen years old, he is sent into the woods to find his medicine. He makes a couch of boughs, and then lies without food or drink for several days, the power of his medicine being in proportion to the length of his fast. So severe is this discipline that instances have been known when the lad has died from the long abstinence to which he subjected himself. When he has endured to the utmost, he yields himself to sleep, and the first beast, bird, or reptile of which he dreams becomes his “medicine.”
He then returns home, and as soon as he has recovered a little strength, he goes out in search of his medicine, and, having killed it, preserves the skin in any shape which his fancy may dictate. It is mostly sewed up in the form of a bag, and contains one or two other charms. The reader will see that the size of the medicine bag is exceedingly variable, according to the size of the creature from whose skin it is formed. Sometimes it is three feet or more in length, and often it is so small that it can be concealed under the garments of the owner.
From the medicine bag the Indian never parts. He considers its presence absolutely indispensable to ensure success in any undertaking, and even carries it into battle, where he trusts to it for protection. Should he lose it in battle, he is utterly disgraced, and there is only one way of restoring himself to reputation. An Indian can only “make his medicine” once, so that he may not restore it by another probation of fasting and dreaming. But if he can slay an enemy in open battle, and take his medicine bag, his status in the tribe is restored, and he thenceforth assumes the medicine of the slain man in exchange for his own. If a man who has not lost his own medicine succeeds in capturing one from an enemy in fair battle, he is entitled to assume a “double-medicine,” and never loses an opportunity of displaying both the medicine bags as trophies of his prowess. Taking a medicine bag is as honorable as taking a scalp, and the successful warrior has the further advantage of being doubly protected by the two charms.