“Yes,” observed Mary, “the mystic pervaded all that was connected with the sweat house worship. A warrior would not permit a woman to enter his sweat house and if she did, he would never use it again. Neither would the man enter that of the woman, and each had to build their own. And, if several were taking the sweat at the same time, a medicine man or medicine woman, as the case might be, generally led in the songs to the Spirit-god. If the Indian believed that the sweat house spirit became displeased with him, something of a fearful nature would happen to him or his family. Should they escape, the death of his dog or pony might be resultant from the frown of the god. The successful hunter must consult the sweat house often.”
“Seems too hurtin’ bad that so much of the old beliefs is a dyin’ out,” remarked the foreman ruefully. “Many things connectin’ with the sweat house the younger Injuns of today don’t understand. The white headed tribesmen still hold sacred that which their race has practiced for centuries of snows. I’ve seen ’em who wouldn’t dare step on a broken stick once used in buildin’ a sweat house. The dam’ Shoyahpee has ruined the Injun life!”
The voice of the aged woman broke in on further colloquy. She desired to enter the lodge of the Spirit-god.
With a suitable stick, Mary began rolling the hot stones into the pit of the sweat house. They were landed safely but the third one, when drawn from the fire and come in contact with the air, shattered into fragments. Now there is an ancient belief that such mishap is a precursor of misfortune, loss in a gambling game or other adventure. But, on the other score, if you succeed in getting the stone placed intact, and at the same time make a wish for that which most concerns you, the omen may be regarded as propitious that you are favored by the Spirit-god, and that you will surely gain your wish. Sooner or later it will come true. Observing the breaking stone, Jim volunteered:
“Bein’ as the old time rules was busted in the buildin’ of this here cookin’ oven, makin’ it a sort of man and woman ’fair, the best rider of the Flathead is a goin’ to help with them there ash-biscuits and see what comes of wishin’ a good thing. If you had any wish on that there rock,” he continued, turning to the shy girl, “it sure went up in smoke.”
Mary laughed and denied having placed any prayer-wish whatever. She watched Jim, as with a short pole he selected the largest stone among the glowing embers. He slowly rolled the scorching boulder as it sizzled the damp earth and seemed to consume the brown leaves in anger. He muttered his “wish” in an undertone! The shy girl smiled, guessing well what it was. As the rock slid into place with those already in the pit, the foreman’s eyes expressed contentment and a smile disclosed two rows of well formed teeth. Mary turned to him in childish glee! For the first time since their acquaintance, he seemed near to her. She now regarded him as one of her own kind. He had not scorned the sweat house! He had not thrown aside the beliefs of his Indian forefathers, as had so many of the educated half-bloods. The books of the white man had not destroyed the earlier training of his mind. She exclaimed:
“Oh! Jim! You are favored by the Spirit-god! The sweat house knows that you are the one who made his body and warmed it, bringing life back into the form when only the bones of it were left;51 returning life to him who was once Chief of the Animal World; he who knows everything under the Sun-god. He was left here in the form of a sweat house, for the benefit of the Indian who might warm those ribs of willow. Thus, when the Red man goes to council him in his lodge, he comes to life and grants the worshipper a sought for favor. We understand such things and believe them as only Indians can. Your wish will come true!”
“Gollies, Mary!” was the rejoinder. “This comes near bein’ one on me! Hadn’t thought of no sweat house for years till today. Maybe been tryin’ too hard to be Shoyahpee, dam’ ’em!”
The face of the shy-girl glowed with strange animation, as with fire-pole poised, she answered:
“I do not wonder! This is the trouble, the fate of the average breed of today. They are encouraged to try forget their Indian ancestry, after they once learn the white man’s books and ways. They banish the idea of old tribal customs and laugh to scorn that which was sacred to the generations past. Some of the Indian system is bad, much of it is good; but it must all give place to that of the Shoyahpee, who arrogantly proclaims that of philosophies, his alone is worthy of emulation. Ignorant Bureau officials are helping in this! They know nothing of the good medicine of the sweat house Spirit, its power to cleanse both the mind and the body. I sometimes wish that they would take a good sweat themselves; for then they might do a cleaner business.”
Jim was surprised to find this girl, whom he had thought so averse to conversation, thus speak readily and eloquently on a subject of rarest interest. In reality, the discourser had been moved intuitively, an unconscious imbibing of the sweat house spirit. The teaching of the devoted Stemteemä alone had made this possible.
Jim now brought a pail of water from the river, to be
