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. [[42]]
[1] For descriptions of Beaver Bundle, see Chapters VII and VIII. [↑]
CHAPTER VII
MAD WOLF TELLS THE LEGEND OF THE BEAVER BUNDLE
After the ceremony Mad Wolf reclined upon his couch and smoked with half-closed eyes. I sat near him, gazing at the sacred Beaver Bundle, thinking of its mysterious power over the Indian, and its strange superstitions handed down through many generations. There was a long silence; the fire burned low and twilight settled over prairie and camp. Finally Mad Wolf knocked the ashes from his pipe. He signed for me to help him remove the robe which covered the Beaver Bundle. For a moment he allowed me to gaze upon it, when the robe was reverently replaced. Then Mad Wolf said earnestly, as though he were thinking back into the distant past: