“No one could touch the tree with hands, for it was _wakon_. When it was all ready to be brought home, eight men lifted it on the four poles, four men on each side. And four would change with another four, so that many brought it home. These walked slowly in a sacred manner; and as they walked, the young warriors rode fast back and forth between the holy tree and the happy people yonder, telling where it was now, and where now, and now. And the people heard, cheering and singing as for a great victory. When at last the _chun wakon_ had come in sight of home, one of the carriers, who was a great warrior and had counted many coups, raised a long howl the way a dog does when the moon is big, and the other carriers joined with him. Then all the people swarmed forth to meet the tree, singing together as they crowded about it, but not too close. You remember how the warriors at the wagon boxes were like a blooming mountain valley walking; but those were singing the death-song. Now the happy people were singing to the Ever-Living One, and they were all blooming--the girls and women with flowers braided into their hair, and the men with their war bonnets. “So the _chun wakon_ came home. The carriers placed the tree in the center of the dancing ring with its butt pointing to where the sun comes up; and there a hole had been dug for the planting. But before it was planted, Blue Spotted Horse, the old holy man--the same who prepared me for my vision quest--came to paint the tree. First he prayed to the Six Powers, as he had taught me, and then he took red paint that he had made by mixing red clay with bison tallow, and painted from the top down to the butt, so that the whole tree was bright with the sacred color. And as he painted the _chun wakon_, all the people sat round about in a great circle and watched, and there was no sound; and the sun watched too.