In Mad Wolf’s Snow Lodge many rules had to be observed; he was also the guardian of the sacred Beaver Bundle and owner of a Medicine Pipe. But his visitors were always well informed and careful not to offend. They knew the bundles that Mad Wolf owned and their observances. The Beaver Bundle forbade any one passing in front of Mad Wolf; no one should hang up their moccasins, or raise the sides of the tepee; dogs were not allowed to enter and the fire must never die out. Even the children knew that the word “bear” must not be spoken in the presence of the Medicine Pipe. If some one had to speak about a bear, it was referred to indirectly as “that-big-hairy-one,” or “the-one-who-prowls-at-night”; to say the word “bear” would be sure to bring sickness and misfortune. No one should talk loud and people should enter without speaking; the occupants of the Snow Tepee could not reply to any one on the outside. It was always rude to ask a man his name before a company of people; this reflected on his good standing and made him feel ashamed. If any one wore an odd-looking object, it might attract attention, but no one ever asked about it; it might be a charm; and it was a breach of etiquette to ask a leading question about one’s personal medicine or experiences; the owner might talk about it, but the initiative must come from him. Around the lodge-fire at night, Mad Wolf’s friends liked to gossip, tell stories, and have fun; they were light-hearted and happy. I did not hear any of them dispute, find fault, or curse. They never talked loud and when one was speaking the others listened. They liked to exaggerate and to boast. But they always listened in silence to a speaker and did not interrupt. One evening I asked Mad Wolf to tell about the days of long ago—how the Indians lived when buffalo were plentiful—before the white men came to occupy their country. He said: “Oh! What happy times we had before we ever saw white men! Then were many buffalo and we wandered where we pleased. In those days, we wintered far away from the mountains; we stayed in the ‘Lower Country’—far down the Marias River until late in the spring, waiting for our horses to shed their winter hair and to get fat on the new grass. “When the weather got warm and it came time to move, our chiefs shouted through the camp: “‘Make ready to pull up your lodge-pins; we are going to move towards the mountains.’ “And in the early morning, before sun-up, they called again: “‘This is the day; pack up your things and take down your lodges; we shall start before the sun is high.’ “We stopped to hunt buffalo near the Sweet Grass Hills. Before sunrise our chiefs rode through the camp and shouted: “‘The buffalo are close; a big herd is coming towards camp; get ready your long-winded horses and the hard-runners; soon we shall hunt.’