When the tree flowered

by John G. Neihardt

Seated again, he waited until normal breathing was restored, and then:

“We danced to the drums and the singing, and I stared at the place where the sky was getting white. Sometimes I could not feel the ground at all, for something seemed to lift me and it was like floating on drumbeats and singing. Then suddenly the great round sun leaped yellow and glaring over the edge of the world, and all the people cried out together with one voice.

“The singing and drumming stopped now, and they led us dancers back to the sacred tree, placing us in a circle around it. I had the bison skull in front of me. Chagla told me I must put it in a certain place that was prepared near the tree. There was a heap of white clay, and into this I thrust the skull three times. The fourth time I pushed it deep and left it there. So Maka’s sacred gift of the bison to the people was given back to the giver with thanks. Also at that place there were two forked sticks in the ground with another stick lying across. Against this I must set my pipe with the stem pointed up. This was a gift to Wakon Tonka and the life-giving sun.

“The drums and the singing began again, and we danced with our faces to the blazing sun, holding our whistles in our mouths and blowing upon them in time with the dancing. Somebody was talking close to my ear, and it was Chagla. ‘Do not look directly at the sun,’ he said; ‘look just a little below.’ I tried to do that, but it did not help much at first, it was like white-hot knives in my eyes. After a while I did not feel anything, and it was dark. The drumbeats and the singing seemed far away in empty night, and they lifted me, floating alone. I was lost in the blindness of my eyes, and I kept praying in my mind in time with the whistle and the far-off drums, ‘Let me see, let me see!’

“I did not see anything. Then all at once, I could see everything, and far away was near. There was a wide green land; wide, wide, green, green, with hills and valleys and streams glittering bright. And the sky over it was deeper and wider and bluer than I can say. It was the same land I saw when I dreamed under the scaffold and my father came to me on his spirit horse. The drumbeats and singing were dim and far away—more like remembering than hearing. I was looking hard at a hilltop for a horseback to come out of the sky. Then someone shook me by the shoulder, and I knew it was Chagla.

“The drums and singing were still. This world came back slowly out of the dark. I was looking down at my shadow. It was right under me like a puddle. Then I was very thirsty, but I made myself remember the green land and the glittering streams, and when I could do that, I forgot I was thirsty.

“All the people were around us in a crowd, watching us while they feasted; but when I thought about eating, it was water that I wanted. Also while the people were watching and eating, the relatives of the dancers were giving away many things—horses and fine clothing, beaded work, and maybe tepees; for giving is a sacred deed and is pleasing to the Mysterious One who gives everything.

“Chagla took my pipe from where I had placed it, and told me I should give it to one of the singers and drummers. So I went to a man, and when he held out his hands I spread his fingers and pretended to give him the pipe. Three times he tried to grasp it, but I pulled it away. The fourth time, I let him seize it. Others were doing the same with other drummers and singers.

“The high sun was burning hot. The attendants came now and rubbed us all over with sacred sage until the red paint was gone and our skins were dry. Then they painted us again. They made my body yellow for the power to grow. Then they took some blue paint made from clay we used to get at Rawhide Buttes. With this my arms were painted from the elbows down, and my legs below the knees. The blue was for the power of the quarter where the sun goes down, the power to make live and to destroy, the power of the Thunder Beings and the rain. With these powers to help me, I would grow to be a great warrior; also a helper of the people, for the hoop of the people and the shielding tree belong to the yellow quarter. When they had done this, they painted something on my back, and it was a half-moon. They did not paint a new moon, because that would have meant going down to the spiritland beyond where the days of man end; and I was to grow in this world and be a great warrior.

“While they were painting us the drummers sang about it like this.” The old man lifted a cracked, quavering voice, drumming on one hand with the other: