Strikes-on-Both-Sides pitched my tepee in the valley across a meadow from Mad Wolf’s camp, near a large rock in a bend in the river where the dark water slowly eddied round and round in a deep pool. She was the favorite child of the old chief; always cheerful and kind and skilled in the arts of Indian women. She was so watchful and alert that no bird or animal near camp ever escaped her keen eyes. She brought me a present of brook trout just caught from the river, also some pulp from the heart of a cottonwood tree, a delicacy with a flavor like maple sap. She and her mother made braids of sweet grass for perfume to put with my clothes, and little buckskin bags of fragrant balsam and meadow-rue berries. My Indian sister made fun of the rough sticks I used for lodge-pins; she was ashamed to have visitors see them. She said they might spread a report that the Mad Wolf family did not look after their white son. So she made me a set of twenty lodge-pins of conventional style—chokecherry wood with the bark peeled off and painted red, leaving two narrow rings of bark at the top, also a set of small pins for fastening together the front of my tepee. In the afternoon, friends often came to go with Mad Wolf into the sweat lodge—White Calf, the head-chief; Horn, an old hunter and trapper; White Grass, and Heavy Breast. The structure they used for their sweat was on the bank of the river. It was made of willow branches twined into an oval frame and covered with robes and blankets. Inside was a hole in the ground for hot stones. Four men entered at a time. They spouted water on the stones and kept wetting their hair. Because of the steam rising from the stones, the bathers kept their heads close to the ground and chanted and prayed to the Sun, Moon and Morning Star. After an hour, with four intervals for fresh air, they came out, and with shouts plunged into the cold river for a reaction. The sweat-bath was used mostly by older men—never by women. Men who were ill went in to pray for healing power. It was used in ceremonies of all kinds, also to secure dreams and for pleasure. It was taken by men moved to anger, or depressed by the death of a near friend or relative. In our valley camp, my days began and ended with the sun. When its first rays shone through the open door of my tepee, I took a plunge in the cold river; then lighted my fire and cooked breakfast. I watched the sunsets from a high ridge overlooking the prairie to the foot of the mountains. Near by were the graves of two young lovers. Water Bird, daughter of a prominent chief, loved Night Rider, a youth of her own age. But her parents made her marry an older man. The young lover killed the husband and fled with his sweetheart to the mountains. When the Indian police were about to capture them, Night Rider killed his sweetheart and then himself.