Pathfinding on Plain and Prairie: Stirring Scenes of Life in the Canadian North-westMcDougall, John
History
Pathfinding on Plain and Prairie: Stirring Scenes of Life in the Canadian North-west
McDougall, John
Frontier and pioneer life -- Northwest, Canadian; McDougall, John, 1842-1917; Northwest, Canadian -- Description and travel
Some of these attach long lines to the "idol tree," and then passing
the end through the muscles of their arms thus dance and swing around
the circle. Others hang guns to the tendons of their back, and dance
with these swinging and jerking about them. Others go from out the
camp, and finding a bull's skull with horns attached, pass a line
through the eyelets, and then hitch themselves to the other end of
the line through the tendons of the back, and drag the head to the
temple, entering amongst the dancers for the rest of the festival.
One man, at the time I am writing of, thus hitched himself to a big
skull, and dragged this around the big encampment seven times,
wailing as he pulled and tugged, and thus sought for forgiveness and
salvation.
The self-tortured and the dancers do not eat or drink until the
afternoon of the third day. At that time the warriors in costume
come in a body to the temple, the bravest ten in the lead, all
singing as they march, either on foot or on horseback, and forming a
circle just outside the "thirst lodge." Then come those who make
gifts; and horses, guns, blankets, etc., are placed in the ring as a
general offering, being afterwards distributed to the needy and the
infirm. Then the bravest warriors are led out into the centre, and
made to recite their exploits and escapades, and between these
recitals the various orders of dancers alternate in exhibition of
their peculiar skill. Inside the temple torture and thirst and
exhaustion; outside, declamation and glory and joyous celebration.
And as the sun draws near to the earth on the evening of the third
day the annual festival is finished. A day or two later the big camp
divides into several smaller camps, each going its own way, leaving
only the bare poles around the "idol tree," from the tops of which
flutter in the breeze the various-colored sacrificial cloths to
remind of this great religious gathering of the wood and plain Crees.
Our camp, having in it the high priest or chief conjurer for this
year, might fittingly be called the "Convenor," and therefore it was
in place for us to reach the rendezvous before the others. This we
did one lovely afternoon, and I could not but admire the selection
made by the high priest as the scene of this year's festival.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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