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| SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION
BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
BULLETIN 146

ae SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION

o0F BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
BULLETIN 146

CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE AND
ITS CULTURAL BACKGROUND

UNITED STATES
GOVERNMENT PRINTING OFFICE
WASHINGTON : 1951

ec a ee NT Eat Ne RN a a Se a ae
For sale by the Superintendent of Documents, U. S. Government Printing Office
Washington 25,D.C. - Price 75 cents

77 BGRRDED
pranucis University
Lib Nagy

LETTER OF TRANSMITTAL

SMITHSONIAN INsTITUTION,
Bureat oF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY,
Washington, D. C., April 15, 1950.

Sir: I have the honor to transmit herewith a manuscript entitled
“Chippewa Child Life and Its Cultural Background,” by Sister M.
Inez Hilger, and to recommend that it be published as a bulletin of
the Bureau of American Ethnology.

Very respectfully yours,
M. W. Stiruine, Director.

Dr. ALEXANDER WETMORE, .

Secretary, Smithsonian Institution.
aG8

CONTENTS

Page
RARGIS UC 32 Se aa Se a Se SE Se NE Be eed ol ee pee Ss mE Ue IX
IinformantsanGuimterpretersh == so2 225. 22s e see ee sae ee Se XIII
intreductions tHe,Chippews: Indians. ..-- .--..22-2. 25 2 ee et 1
LET ETEY TV HONLINY SY 1 60 LRM ey ro cae Uap py ney We a Ton a Oe I ee 2
ATEN tain AClOls = ane ee ee ee OR ee eh 2
AB CE LON a 2 fears ee eee Se pe he oy a el ge 4
OI Ole Cen AD LOI 2 ee Sle ee ee a eh ee 4
Effect of mother’s pregnancy on youngest child__________-_____-_-- 6
Hood taboo ANG prescriptions... 5. =.= =. 2.42 220260 2-5 ee 6
Conduct taboos and prescriptiOns: --~ 2-3-5 ase ee 8
EN] SCT CGS BY EEN STORED fog, Enea ey Ete 2 YM TAs See Cte 10
TREN EEGs oe SG oe SN SPAR RR a ee Da ale CN ra Cnc ea Se |e 12
TELE eee Cop OS) NA ta a eS Oe ee ede cere re Leer 12
IRersOnSs Assisting ats bint Messe ses aa een ere ee ie oe cee ek age WS
Position of mother during delivery —-— 9) = 92 13
AGES Hee tole ee ee ee ee eee ee eee eee 15
UN PAGCOR: sehen = Sp eee et th a ag se ag lap sd 16
TELS OO ES IS DE Se eee ee eee ey ere 17
“CYS TDD ADLER ee ee ee ee ame ear See sae » -» 18
NRG OST es SE eS ee ee eee eee hae eee ae 18
UN EES SP SS PSP AS i 01 | ec ee ee ee ee Se ey oe 18
Runificationvotem otierse set. same eee ee oe ok oe See ee eee ee 19
Announcement of birth and ceremonial celebration__._--_---_------ 19
Rostmatalanterestsi22e >a. sce —2 - toe ee ae a ee 2 20
INGSE IMCS ANGLeaTMN ps: 2). lotta eee te oe eee 20

Cradles, diapers, “talcum powder,” baby hammocks, and method of
(HEP NS) OKO HEINER OFF OS a ES Re ee ee ee ee ee ee 21
nila biese saa eee aes ee See ee Ba oa seo an Re ee ae 25
AR CONGRATS tT OlOUNON ae S26 — Sasa oe Ba Sco Se Ce a ee eee 26
A child’s first actions, first word, first step, first portage, and first tooth 27
INDITSIN Gan WeamMing = seo. oe nol See se ee ee a eg 28
DEPT STT a gENas SEDE NGs ee Pe ee e eee nes Zeer echo eens 28
HASTY Fria Pe A MI ae gl AM SE ae aye a nh ee ee Sy 29
nausea CONGIMIONS se 2 Senet a Re ree Se Re ae ee Rs 30
PAS AT GCGRINIeb R= ah Be ae Ne er ee ko oh a een 30
LCR ADIOS ote. See hs es See os a he A Pe Ee ana ta cake nN ee ge 31
Werormed: bAblese.. 6 =.= Baas oto. Sees 2 ee he Re ake cl 32
1 SYS a SP a Pea a a ag ae Sd eine eee ER? EP 32
WIPO IEIMAC ys se ate ote oe eee eh eel A 28 Nk = em os 32
Slaves, servants, and adopted persons___-=_--=___----.--____-. __ 33
ISCAS TESA CWA AVERT Ce | RA NS a 5S eee er eo SORE IS 35
WaTlousimames! 3 = ee 52 Sos 2h ee cook Sa ae a a 35
ORipIN TOL WAMNES ese ee. ke ee ee ee ek a 35
Ene AIMeCSAROs 2222662 AS ale eee lee ha Pe a 37
WETEIN GIA sxe ees Se a Pe i oe hale RR ot 38

IV CONTENTS

Page

Prepuberty fasts___-------- agen): luce 2a0 peeeeiee nee Ae alee el 39
Age of boy‘and girl.» -_. =. 2-5. sb See tee oa eee eee 39
Selection: of fasterssc2 2.25202 220 2a) eee ee ee eee 39
PignMeaANt CTEAMS 25222 22 eee ee ee ee ee 40
Manner of fasting) 20.4 524 22 ee ee Se ee oe sae 40
Purposeioffasting 2: <2 25 See See eee 44
Personal accounts of dreams... 2.22 <2 see eee eee eee 47
BUberty, CUSLOMB= 2 oe oe ee oe a ee ee 49
Boys’ puberty customs: 22222... SSeS ee Se eee 49
Girls puberty rites 22-22 l See eS ee eee eee 50
Mrainimng childrens 2 ))2¢.l 0) 3 SoU See oe ee eee 55
Type of education. o0 .- 5-2 Pete lease Sa ee ee 55
Methods*2222 202222 262 See ee ee 55
Instructorsic228 22s 222 1 2 Se ee eee ee ee 56
Time-of instructions= 222.52 22 220s oe ee ee 57
Reward ang ‘punishment. oS Se se ee ee ee 58
Discovering righteous children’: 2 3225255 ° esse ee ee setts 59
‘Religion and supernatural powers 22) 2 22 —— Se ee eee 60
The: Suprenie Being. 22 =. sae ee 2 ee ee eee 60
Minomdeities 2225022 = Vee sene ets OSS Stoel ee ee ee 60
Tobacco asia Ceremonial Ofer ge = eee esse ee ee 62
The Midé! wiwitt2t: 2222 2 een. ee ee 63
“Grand medicine,” or powers of members of the Midé’wiwin- - ------ rel
“Pip: shaking’) 22023. .2o2 2222 22st ht St See ee eee 75
Belief in dife*atter death22 22.22" 5) cos Se See ee ee 78
Lifeatter death: 2252.02" .26 12223 oe eee eee ee ee 78
Deéatheie eck scl ut See sek SESS Se ree 78
Imterment 2 S225 225222. Rese Meee es Cae ee es ee eee 80
Giaveses = 22 ehesliwes (coo eee eee See eee = See eee 82
Offerings for the dead (cibénaki’win)._--------------------------- 83
Burisle:23 oc. /2 00.2 Siete Ce eee | es ee 84
Mourning 62 2 OcU shi 2 ee eo es Soke ee ee 86
Health measures os 222 i 222 oe Pee ae Sa Ee ee 87
Shamanisticupowerss 222.5. 2502 7 ae see eee eae eee 88
Herbs; roots, bark22o° 22252" beer hie Set ooo ee eee er * 90
Tattooing (4ja’sOwim).... "= 222. SL fe oll So Se ee eee 93
Bloodletting: (pi'pkicoane) 222 - Sel hse see Stes. 2S eee eee 95
Sweating co@tote sos sie st ea eS eee 96
Préventivesmeasures= 2225 225 = S21 2t a 2S SOS eae Se ee ee eee 96
Moral training ct sf nc 8 tare ros St Se eee eee ee ee ee 97
Kindnesssont ir eo arts seo nen See oe. ae eee 97
Stealine ss shes se! cot tes fe Sa ee Se ee 98
Lyingvand boasting! = 2222222 Safco 2228 ee eee 99
Talebearing= 228 ie %22 Sossh2 os Se eee eee 99
Quarreling 2282 7 2 ar Ss Cece Ser eee ee See eee 99
Intoxicants, suicide, cannibalism, revenge. = —*=- =. ==-_.2-_-=_-==* == 101
Mental: training Str Sle Si oo ee eee 102
Counting times es 2 1 Le ee 102
Linear measurements and counting numbers---------------------- 103
Directions oF Are eA oon oR ee aa eee Bante ae 105
Interpretation of natural phenomena-_-_-_-__----------------------- 106

Wariguare ce sok eee os i See aie eee ee 107

CONTENTS V

Page

DiversiQuseees 4: A ees are cree ome hoe Leo eS le 109
Chit Gre ran Sip bey Mees een la Seg YY aa Re ee Ss ee eS 109
Games auGeeam linge ee ee eee oe ee 110
DAN CESHae Newel eee Is 2S eee Cee Ee EO ee eS 112

NYAS RSTISTVI D2 a0 2 YN 4 ene 3 gee aE Ce 114
Vocational training and domestic economy---_--_-_-_------------------ 115
CU EETIO OMIT E KGL ec See coer Sy eae og A a, Sere ele | a 115
Snowshocs and GOUOP PANS: seo. 5 22,5 See ee al th ee ee Se 117
ESOS FeRTIG TAT EO WUS= eee hs ee AR oe en EE i 9 Dee its ek Oe pea 118

LB OLS iy Ee eee AERMPR cote I Pe MS eae y Meee epee OL pa me ee pe 119
AFipsealrinragie ee Me NEL ots TU wh ee a ee Ae 125
eG Hay rig mae el aa aie Shan oi Bee gal seh wel, Seg ae Si hes 129
Birchbark containers/and! bulrush) matsee 2255 -— = 2-2 ee eee eee 133
drama ingest ahs: va RR 3) oars Sa I pe od tA go Ra he lh Oi ay tt 137
HuelGreplaces|.and lighting: =o.) ucu= 2. ae Sse a ee IS 141
(Greil e riba ge lec FE OS Sl gn. See ee i wd. Mine Natal Se 144
Hoodsipreparationvand storages s=- 2 4 a= ys = ee oe ee 144
Bandsvchiefss and icouncils®=s2285. 2 Jo 52" ye eee ee ee 150

VIE Ett) (OBS GO RIAN peop SL et an a ee RR he a ee 153
(Gieii ty os ES, ee Pe eee ee ee oy ENE end eee een NLL emer ea 153
COS Ue ttl ea Oe et CI Se SN See CONeeeeie reser men tL meee mre Ps 156
Retry ea ae eerste me ar P oh 0G SLs ReneS Se a tte a 158

VERON RSS OLN E11 eg OS RY cee PORES SORE MET Me eRee SG One MBENT, Seen Fee ee yeS! 2 160

PPG pam ies seg ee th te ce eo me ee ee

BHC CESBINERNIATTIN Gest tris 8 eS Mt ee a GE

MPT AMIUE LOUIS a3 9 2S Se aes ie fal cla, Se a) 5 Spt So es ee ee a, 162
EATS YE Sg eS np eter tien Oa Meet ereainy, eee amtvenenet cy 2 Pel aa ee a ee = 162

RSS MTG TY ASR a Sn 3 a Bo aE i Se Si LN ame ee 162
List of some jplants used by the Chippewa.__...-..--.-2-=<.+..-=---242 173
TEN Sh Irv veda tools Mee em ee Re an ane eg ee SORE SO Re re Cae 173
LNG UES ACES EY OE EE SR pete ee Aen ok ee eee Eten trerT ee Bee tee 189

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ILLUSTRATIONS

PLATES
(All plates facing page 188)

. Informants, Red Lake Reservation, 1933. 1, John Baptist Thunder and

daughter Jane Bonga. 2, Charley Johnson. 3, Angeline Highlanding.
4, Ella Badboy.

. Mothers carrying babies in cradleboard. 1, Mrs. Howard Pete, Vermilion

Lake Reservation, 1939. 2, Woman in Ponemah village, Red Lake Reser-
vation, 1933. 38, Baby ready for cradleboard, Mille Lacs Reservation, 1940.

. Mildred Hill putting son Jimmy to sleep in a hammock, Mille Lacs Reserva-

tion, 1940. 1 and 2, Preparing hammock. 3, Baby asleep in hammock.
Notice netting over hoop as a protection against flies and insects. 4, Baby
after itsnap. Notice stick holding ropes apart at head end.

. Mille Lacs Reservation baby transported on mother’s back, 1940. 1, Swinging

to mother’s back. 2, Carrying baby on back. 3, Dropping baby off back.

. Chippewa children. 1 and 2, White Earth Reservation, 1938. 3, Red Lake

Reservation, 1933.

. Midé’wiwin celebration, White Earth Reservation, 1938. 1, Man and woman

dancing. 2, Old people resting between dances.

. Chippewa burials. 1, Burials near home, Red Lake Reservation, 1933. 2,

Midé’wiwin cemetery, White Earth Reservation, 1988. 3, Midé’wiwin
cemetery, Lac Courte Orielle Reservation, 1935.

. Chippewa burials. 1, Grave with cloth covering, Red Lake Reservation, 1933.

2, Burials near home, Lac du Flambeau Reservation, 1935.

. Burials, Mille Lacs Reservation, 1940. 1, Cemetery. 2, Birchbark covering.

83, Notice small platform. 4, Birchbark covering weighted down with
stones. Notice d6’dim marker in foreground to right.

Children enjoying recreation of the traditional type. 1, Rabbit dance, White
Earth Reservation, 1938. 2, Side dance, White Harth Reservation, 1938.
83, Squaw dance, White Earth Reservation, 1988. 4, Moccasin game, Ver-
milion Lake Reservation, 1939.

Pow-wow participants, Red Lake Reservation, 1933. 1, Wife of Amos Big
Bird. 2, Amos Big Bird.

Dance hall, Red Lake Reservation, 1933. 1,Interior. 2, Exterior.

Making birchbark canoe, Mille Lacs Reservation, 1940. 1, Boiling spruce
resin for mending cracks in birchbark. 2, Frying boiled spruce resin mixed
with charcoal in grease. 3, Split roots of spruce used in sewing. 4, Pre-
paring ground by leveling it.

Making birchbark canoe, Mille Lacs Reservation, 1940 (continued). 1, Plac-
ing birchbark. 2, Shaping canoe by means of poles and framework for
bow or stern. 38, Placing bark into position by means of second set of poles.

Making birchbark canoe, Mille Lacs Reservation, 1940 (continued). 1,
Framework for either bow or stern. 2, Binding edges with split roots of
spruce.

Making birchbark canoe, Mille Lacs Reservation, 1940 (continued). 1,
Canoe ready for gunwales, ribs, flooring, and binding of edges. 2, Filling
cracks in bark with pitch. 3, Placing ribs and flooring.

vir

VIII ILLUSTRATIONS

17. Making birchbark canoe, Mille Lacs Reservation, 1940 (continued). 1,
Canoe ready for use. 2, Transporting canoe. 3, Canoe on exhibition at
Mille Lacs Indian Trading Post, Onamia, Minn.

18. Man’s snowshoes collected on Lac Courte Orielle Reservation, 1935.

19. Josephine Gurneau making cord of basswood fiber, Red Lake Reservation,
19338. 1, Rolling strands of basswood fiber. 2, Softening strands by
moistening.

20. Fishing. 1, Fish nets being hung to dry, Red Lake Reservation, 1933. 2,
Shuttle and sample of fish net made on Red Lake Reservation, 1933.

21. Fishing. 1, A haul of fish, Red Lake Reservation, 1932. 2, Fish nets drying,
L’Anse Reservation, 1935.

22. Emma Martin tanning deer hide, Lac Courte Orielle Reservation, 1935. 1,
Wringing hide after soaking. 2, Last wringing of hide. 3, Second scrap-
ing of hide. 4, Stretching hide.

23. Emma Martin tanning deer hide, Lac Courte Orielle Reservation, 1935 (con-
tinued). 1, Hide stretched for final scraping. 2, Final scraping of hide.
3, Smoking hide.

24, Birchbark receptacles. 1, Anna Knott making wild-rice winnowing trays
and teaching daughter to make them, Vermilion Lake Reservation, 1939.
2, Nonleakable birchbark receptacles, Red Lake Reservation, August 1933.
3, a, Work basket; b, maikok’ ; c, winnowing basket.

25. Mary Gurneau making nonleakable birchbark receptacle, Red Lake Reserva-
tion, August 1932. 1, Holding bark over fire. 2, Fastening folded end.
3, Folding opposite end. 4, Completed receptacle.

26. Wigwams. 1, Mishiman and wife and their wigwam covered with birch-
bark and bulrush mats, Lac Courte Orielle Reservation, 1935. 2, Wigwam
entirely covered with bark, Red Lake Reservation, 1932.

27. Wigwams. 1, White Earth Reservation, 1938. 2, Lac du Flambeau Reserva-
tion, 19385. 3, Lac du Flambeau Reservation, 1922.

28. Wigwams, Mille Lacs Reservation, 1940. 1, Coverings of cattail mats, tar
paper, and flattened cardboard boxes. 2, Wigwam frame. 3, Coverings
of cattail mats and birchbark. 4, Coverings of elm bark and birchbark.

29. Tipi. Women packing wood, Red Lake Reservation. 1, Tipi covered with
birchbark—entrance view, Mille Lacs Reservation, 1940. 2, Same as 1;
rear view. 3, Nancy Cain, 1939. 4, Mrs. Peter Everywind, 1932.

30. Fireplaces. Collecting herbs. 1, Mabel Daisy, Red Lake Reservation, 1932.
2, Red Lake Reservation, 19338. 3, Gathering medicinal herbs, roots, and
bark, Lac Courte Orielle Reservation, 1935.

31. Fireplaces. 1 and 2, Lac du Flambeau Reservation, 1935 and 1934. 3, Mille
Lacs Reservation, 1940.

FIGURES

1. Map of the Chippewa (Ojibwa) reservations____..-.--.--_--.-____- XVIII

PREFACE

The purpose of this study is to record the customs and beliefs of the
primitive Chippewa Indians of the United States as evidenced in the
development and training of the child. Childhood among the pri-
mitive Chippewa began with birth and ended with puberty. It was
divided into two periods. The period from birth to the event of
walking was called dakabi’naaswan; the period from the event of
walking to puberty, 4banod’ji. From the event of walking to puberty,
a boy was called kwiwi’séns; a girl, ekwé’séns. A child’s age was not
counted by years. Before it reached the dawn of reason, it might be
described as having been “just old enough to remember,” or “before it
had any sense.” Children between the age of reason and puberty were
designated as having been “so high”—a gesture of the hand indicating
the height.

From puberty to the birth of his first grandchild a man was called
kwiwisens’sok; a woman, ekwe’wok. From the birth of his first
grandchild to the birth of his first great-grandchild a man was called
nimico’mis; a woman, nokOmis.

No out SEE dealing with Chippewa child life is now ayaa!
Frances Densmore’s (1929) Chippewa Customs, for which information
was collected on the White Earth, Red Lake, Cass Lake, Leech Lake,
and Mille Lacs Reservations in Minnesota, the Lac Courte Orielle
Reservation in Wisconsin, and the Manitou Rapids Reserve in Ontario,
Canada, contains some excellent material on child training and devel-
opment. So does Diamond Jenness’ (1935) study of the Ojibwa of
Parry Island found in The Ojibwa Indians of Parry Island, Their So-
cial and Religious Life. The findings of the present study are largely
in agreement with those of Densmore and of Jenness regarding child
life. The writer has noted considerable difference, however, between
her findings and those of Ruth Landes (1938 b), whose research was
done among the Ojibwa of western Ontario and is recorded in The
Ojibway Woman. All other sources that have come to the writer’s
notice (listed in the bibliography) contain only scattered and scanty
information on the child.

The first eight sections of this work are concerned largely with
phases in the development and the treatment of the child; the last nine
sections, with the milieu in which the child was reared. Since rather
complete information on the cultural background of the child is al-
ready available in the literature (see bibliography), it was covered in

x PREFACE

the research of this study only to the extent of ascertaining its relation-
ship to child life. Incidentally, at times, informants volunteered
detailed information on such traits; sometimes, occasions or seasons
permitted personal observation of them. Such information, being
new, is included in the monograph.

The material for the study was gathered by the writer on the Red
Lake Reservation in Minnesota in the summers of 1932, 1933, 1939; on
the Lac Courte Orielle, the Lac du Flambeau, and the La Pointe
Reservations in Wisconsin and the L’Anse Reservation in Michigan in
the summer of 1935; on the White Earth Reservation in Minnesota in
1988; on the Vermilion Lake and the Nett Lake Reservations in Min-
nesota in the summer of 1939; and on the Mille Lacs Reservation in
Minnesota in 1940.

Ninety-six Chippewa men and women on the nine Chippewa reser-
vations named above contributed information included in this work.
A list of their names is found on pages xv—xvi. Since many were
willing to give information only on condition that neither they nor
those of whom they were speaking would be identifiable in the pub-
lished account, names are omitted in the text.

Great care was exercised in selecting informants. Commercial in-
formants were avoided, as well as those who were suspected, even only
slightly, of consciously giving misinformation. Of the first genera-
tion only those were included whose memory and mental alertness gave
no signs of senility. Informants of the second and the third genera-
tions were chosen either because they had been reared by grandparents
and therefore knew the old customs or because they were living in
groups that adhered to primitive ways and participated in primitive
activities.

Two or three interpreters were employed on each reservation.
These were selected with the assistance of missionaries, of Indians and
whites in the local service of the United States Bureau of Indian
Affairs, and of educated resident Indians on the reservation. Inter-
preters were given an opportunity to select from the list of informants
those for whom they wished to interpret. Their choice was usually a
relative or a friend. Confidence was thus established from the outset
and information was often given spontaneously owing to pleasant
rapport. This method also eliminated loss of time and the with-
holding of information, which might have occurred had either an
interpreter or an informant, or both, harbored feelings of antagonism
or distrust toward the other. This method, furthermore, facilitated
the checking of information on any one reservation, for interpreters
relayed information, in most instances, as new information. Details,
too, were recounted rather than the answer given, “This old lady said
the same as did the one we saw yesterday.” All information was

-_ = Tt)

PREFACE XI

checked. The final checking was done on the Mille Lacs Reservation
in 1940 after the notes of previous field work had been compiled into
manuscript. In order not to eliminate personal touches, direct quota-
tions are freely used throughout the work.

It was exceedingly difficult to obtain detailed or complete informa-
tion regarding items whose origin lay either in dreams or in quests
for personal power, or that were associated with or obtainable only
through membership in the Midé’ wiwin, the native religion. In many
cases it was impossible to obtain such knowledge; not even names
were obtainable. Powers are lessened, or disrespect is shown to the
spirits who granted them, if they are revealed. Medicinal or magic
use of herbs, roots, and barks frequently fell into this class. For
assistance in procuring some native names, the writer is under special
obligation to John Kingfisher, of Lac Courte Orielle Reservation,
and to Frances Sayers, of Red Lake Reservation, both natives who
have acted as official interpreters for Federal, State, and local govern-
ments; and to Benno Watrin, Benedictine priest at Ponsford on the
White Earth Reservation, who is known in the Chippewa country as
the white man most conversant with the Chippewa language. In all
instances where plants are not identified, it was impossible to do so.
Urging the obtaining of names in these cases would have savored of
a most discourteous act. In some cases, too, the price for the purchase
of secret knowledge was high. (Selling it cheaply indicates that the
owner of it does not prize it highly nor appreciate its spiritual powers.)
One old man advised the interpreter to try the following way: “Make
the approach by offering a half pound of tobacco; this will get the
talking started. Then ask for the information and offer one or two
quilts or blankets or some article of clothing of equal value, and see
what will happen. I doubt that even then yoy will get it.”

Pictures shown in plates 13 to 17 are from photographs taken by
the Mille Lacs Indian Trading Post; all others, by the author.

The late Father Felix Nelles, Benedictine priest, of St. John’s
Abbey, Collegeville, Minn., 30 years a missionary among the Chip-
pewa on the Red Lake, Leech Lake, and White Earth Reservations,
assisted the writer with the correct pronunciation of all Chippewa
words found in the study. Father Felix spoke and wrote Chippewa
fluently. The transcription of Chippewa words is based on the Pho-
netic Transcription of Indian Languages (1916).

Father Felix Neiles also read the section dealing with the training
in religion and supernatural powers and the section which describes
the belief in life after death, and he gave valuable suggestions. The
writer is sincerely grateful for his kind assistance.

The writer also wishes to express her indebtedness to the late Dr.
John M. Cooper, head of the Department of Anthropology, Catholic

XII PREFACE

University of America; to Dr. Wilson D. Wallis, head of the Depart-
ment of Anthropology, University of Minnesota; and to the late Dr.
Truman Michelson, of the Bureau of American Ethnology, Smith-
sonian Institution, for their continued interest and many helpful sug-
gestions; to Dr. Matthew W. Stirling, chief of the Bureau of American
Ethnology, and Dr. A. Irving Hallowell, of Northwestern University,
for reading the entire manuscript, and to Dr. W. N. Fenton, also of the
Bureau of American Ethnology, for reading it in part, and to all three
for valuable advice.

She acknowledges her obligation to both Chippewa informants and
interpreters without whose fine cooperation and intelligent assistance
this work could not have been produced. It is hoped that their
descendants will be appreciative of the information this work contains ;
it was to be left to them as a legacy. Informants particularly were
grateful for the opportunity of recording customs and traditions that
had been so intricate a part of their lives, in order that their great-
grandchildren’s children might learn to know them.

The writer is appreciative of the courtesies shown her by the per-
sonnel of the United States Bureau of Indian Affairs on the Chippewa
reservations. She is also deeply grateful to the Catholic Sisters on
these reservations and to Mrs. Emily Weinzierl near Nett Lake and
Vermilion Lake Reservations for their hospitality during the sum-
mers of ethnological research ; to Sister Marie Hilger, Sister Immacula
Roeder, and Sister Deodata Kaliher for assistance in field notes; and
to Sister Corda Burfield and, most especially, to Mrs. Peter Lelonek
for typing the manuscript.

The writer is obliged to her family for financial assistance in field
work in 1932 and 1933; to Mr. Roy P. Wilcox, of Eau Claire, Wis., for
field work in 1935 and 1938; and to the Social Science Research Council
for grants-in-aid for the final work in 1939 and 1940.

St. Benedict’s Convent, Sister M. Inez Hier,
St. Joseph, Minnesota. Benedictine Sister.

INFORMANTS AND INTERPRETERS

Red Lake Reservation of Minnesota:

Ella Bad Boy

Tom Barrett

Amos Big Bird
Cecilia Blackjack
Solomon Blue
Jane Bonga

Mary L. Brun
Nancy Cain

Mary Crawley
Mabel Daisy

Mrs. Peter Everywind
Mrs. Glasby
Josephine Gurneau

White Harth Reservation of Minnesota:

Big Bear

Carrie St. Claire
Andrew Vanoss

Mr. and Mrs. Wilson

Nett Lake Reservation of Minnesota:

Sophie Goggleye
Grandma Peterson

Vermilion Lake Reservation of Minnesota:

Jennie Boshey
Anna Chosa
James Gowboy
Anna Knott

Mille Lacs Reservation of Minnesota:

Mrs. John Noonday
Mildred Hill
Emishewag

Mary Gurneau
Angeline Highlanding
Mary Iyubidud

Kah gay se goke

Eva Mountain
Naytahwahcinegoke
Frances Sayers
James Sayers

George Stateler
Mary Sumner

John Baptiste Thunder
Charley Johnson

Gabriel Siace

Gimiwananakwod (Rain Cloud)
Sadie Rabbit

Mrs. Vivian Jones

Sarah Wein

Mary O’Leary
Mrs. Howard Pete
Mrs. Joe Pete

Benay
Susan Anderson

Lac Courte Orielle Reservation of Wisconsin:

Peter Cloud

Louis Corbine and wife
William De Brot
George Fleming and wife
Ellen Gockey

Alice Hall

Susie Homesky

Mary Isham

Mary Krokodak

Henry La Rush

Sister Syrilla La Rush
Hmma Demare Martin

Peter Martin
Mishiman and wife
Nellie Olson
Mitchell Quagon
Mary Robinson
Frank Setter
Mrs. John Shogey
Mrs. Otis Taylor
Frank Thayer
Angeline Wolf
John Kingfisher

XIII

XIV INFORMANTS AND INTERPRETERS

La Pointe Reservation of Wisconsin:

Mrs. George Arbucle . Mrs. Joseph La Pointe
Martha Cedarroot Frank Scott
Margaret Greeley Mary Twobirds

Lac du Flambeau Reservation of Wisconsin:

Grandma Ardeshaw Mrs. St. Germaine
Margaret Christianson Mr. and Mrs. Pat Williams
Ben Gauthier and wife

L’Anse Reservation of Michigan:

Dan Curtis Mrs. Peter Sharlifoe
Louis Gauthier Luey Shosa
Ana Johston John Thayer

Charles Pappin and wife Mrs. Ed Vashow

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CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE AND ITS CULTURAL
BACKGROUND

By Sisrer M. Inez Hincer

INTRODUCTION: THE CHIPPEWA INDIANS

Copway, a native Chippewa, wrote in 1851 regarding the origin of
the name of his people: “I have heard a tradition related to the effect
that a general council was once held at some point above the Falls of
St. Anthony, and that when the Ojibways came to this general council
they wore a peculiar shoe or moccasin, which was gathered on the top
from the tip of the toe, and at the ancle [sic]. No other Indians wore
this style of footgear, and it was on account of this peculiarity that
they were called Ojibway, the signification of which, is gathering”
(Copway, 1851, p.30). The word “Chippewa,” which is now generally
applied to this tribe in the United States, is the popular adaptation
of “Ojibway.”

Culturally, the Chippewa Indians belong to the woodland area of
North America; linguistically, they belong to the large Algonquian
family. The tribes of the Algonquian family, according to Michel-
son’s linguistic classification, fall into four major divisions: Blackfoot,
Cheyenne, Arapaho, and Eastern-Central, the last having two sub-
types—the Eastern and the Central. The Eastern includes the Mic-
mac, as one group, and the Abnaki, which comprise all the remaining
extant dialects, as a second group. The Central subtype, the one in-
cluding the Chippewa, is subdivided into the following groupings:
The Cree-Montagnais; the Menomonie; the Sauk, Shawnee, Fox, and
Kickapoo; the Ojibwa, Potawatomi, Ottawa, Algonkin, and Peoria;
the Natick; and the Delaware (Michelson, 1906-07, pp. 223-290).

The first recorded word regarding the Chippewa is found in the
Jesuit Relations of 1640 where they are mentioned under the name of
Baouichtigouin. In 1641 Fathers Isaac Jogues and Charles Raym-
bault found them at war. In 1667 Father Allouez wrote of them as
living on “the sault by which Lake Tracy empties into the Lake of the
Hurons” (Kellogg, 1917, p. 185). In 1670-99 Perrot found them liv-
ing south of Lake Superior (Hodge, 1907, pt. 1, p. 278). Mention of
the Chippewa is found in most of the journals and narratives of the

1
884216—51——_2

2 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buu 146

early missionaries, travelers, and fur traders. The tribe is recorded
in historic literature under more than 70 different names, among them
Achipoes, Chepeways, Odjibwag, Uchipgouin, Dewakanha, Dshipewe-
haga, Ninniwas, Saulteur, and Saulteaux.

Contemporary Chippewa, basing their information on traditions
recorded in the ceremonials of the Midé’wiwin, their native religion,
say that when the first white men met them, the Chippewa were jour-
neying westward to their place of origin from somewhere in the East
where there are great bodies of water. Their westward movement, in-
terfered with by Fox and Sioux, was greatly aided by the use of fire-
arms. These came into their possession about 1670. During the
beginning of the eighteenth century, the Fox were driven from North-
ern Wisconsin; the Sioux were driven across the Mississippi River and
south of the Minnesota River. The Chippewa then continued west-
ward across what is now Minnesota and North Dakota as far as the
Turtle Mountains. While a portion of the tribe was thus moving
westward, another forced the Iroquois to withdraw from the peninsula
between Lake Huron and Lake Erie (Hodge, 1907, pt. 1, p. 278).
Skinner notes that the territory over which the Ojibway at one time
roamed “extended from the Niagara River on the east to the neighbor-
hood of central Montana on the west, and from the northern part of
Wisconsin and Michigan north about halfway to Hudson’s Bay”
(Skinner, 1911, p. 117).

Treaties between the United States Government and the Chippewa,
as well as executive orders of Presidents and special acts of Congress
affecting them, began as early as 1785 and continued to be made until
recent times. ‘Twenty-two such negotiations were transacted in the 60
years between 1805 and 1864 (Kappler, 1904, pp. 18-754 passim).
Until the nineties the Indians were continuously ceding lands; in
more recent times the Government has been reacquiring lands for
the Indians.

Today the Chippewa live on reservations within their original terri-
tories in Minnesota, Michigan, Wisconsin, and North Dakota, and in
Ontario, Manitoba, and Northwest Territories (fig. 1). The entire
population in the United States and Canada was estimated in 1905 to
be between 30,000 and 32,000 (Hodge, 1907, pt. 1, p. 280). The popu-
lation in the United States today according to the 1940 census is nearly
30,000 (U.S. Office of Indian A ffairs, 1940, pp. 9, 12, 16).

PRENATAL PERIOD
PARENTAL FACTORS

Sterility —The cause for inherent sterility was not known. Sterility
could be produced artificially by taking a decoction, ingredients of.

HILGER] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 3

which were known only to certain persons.t Sterile people were not
well thought of. “Indians are proud to be able to conceive.” Some
informants had not heard of either partner blaming the other if their
union was childless. One informant, however, knew that—

a sterile woman was suspected of having had intercourse before puberty. Ifa
certain married couple had no children, and the man died, and his wife re-
married (or if his wife left him and married another man) and if the woman
then had children, everyone knew that she was not sterile. No one suspected
her any longer ; everybody knew then it was the man’s fault.

Fertility—Certain Indians claimed to have knowledge regard-
ing the medicinal value of plants which, when taken in the form of a
decoction, produced fertility in sterile women. On the Red Lake
Reservation, “if a mother didn’t have children and wanted some, they
brewed two roots, anicinabékwi djibik and basénakwegok and she
drank it. It always worked.” On the White Earth Reservation sev-
eral decoctions were used. The following were two: “Use either the
bark of the hazelnut brush (baganimidji nénagek) or a sort of butter-
cup or waterlily found in the meadows (pakwédidjitegons).”

On the Mille Lacs Reservation both husband and wife drank the
potion:

If a woman has no children and she wants some, she is given an Indian medi-
cine and her husband drinks it too; they always have babies after that. ‘I know
of a couple who drank it; she was a relative of my husband—my husband’s
sister’s daughter. They were getting old, drank the medicine, and had a baby;
but it died when it started to creep around. No one here today has knowledge
of that medicine. One old lady had it, and she died.

Another very old informant on the same reservation said : “Old Indians
knew medicine which when taken by both husband and wife always
caused them to have children.”

On the Lac Courte Orielle Reservation, informants did not wish to
name the ingredients, but said “roots and barks of certain trees.” The
interpreter added :

The ingredients are known only to older members of the tribe who still practice
medicine. They will reveal the true recipe only when told to do so by the chief
medicine man at the celebration of the Midé’wiwin which takes place in the fall
and in the spring of every year. At the celebration certain old persons, mem-
bers of the Midé’wiwin, are selected for promotion to higher degrees. ‘They are
then told the recipes of certain decoctions—each degree has its own particular
knowledge pertaining to herb curing. When a member has completed the entire
course—that is, has made all the degrees—he is a full-fledged medicine man.

Limitation of size of family—Artificial limitation of families
was not known to the Chippewa. Abstinence, however, was practiced.
“Parents preached to the men and to their daughters to stay away

1 Throughout this work where plants, roots, and bark are not identified, it was impossible
to obtain either native names or specimens. Cf. also Preface (p. XIII). For those that
were identified, see list of some plants used by the Chippewa (p. 173).

4. BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 146

from each other. It was considered a disgrace to have children like
steps and stairs.” “Ifa man had sense, he didn’t bother his wife while
a child was young.” “Some had many children, but none had them like
steps and stairs; the men and women kept away from-each other.”
“I didn’t live with my man as husband until the baby was able to walk.
I slept alone.”

CONCEPTION

All informants agreed that conception is due to the collaboration
of both parents. Typical remarks were such as these: “It is from
the man that the child comes, as well as from the woman.” “The man
is responsible for the baby along with the woman. That was always
believed by the Chippewa because they knew that to be true.” How-
ever, it was believed that a child born with certain physical traits was
not conceived in the normal way: it was considered reincarnated.
Such traits were those of being born a twin; of being born with a small
patch of gray hair anywhere on the head, or with teeth, or with a caul,
or with “nips” out of the ears, or with birthmarks, especially ones that
resembled healed wounds. It was believed that the ghost of an Indian,
well advanced in years, one who showed the characteristics with which
the child was born, had come near the mother’s body and had entered
the body of the child. This occurred either at the moment of con-
ception or very soon afterward. “Such babies were old-time Indians.
No one knew who the old-timer was, but some old Indian’s spirit went
up to the mother’s body and entered the baby’s body. This was not
said as a joke; this was the truth.” “My daughter was born with a
patch of white hair, and I heard my grandmother say, ‘There, that
child is some old person come back to life.’” “Some boys and girls
were born with marked ears; it was supposed that they were old
Indians born again. You know in old times, Indians had their ears
pierced. My grandmother had long slits in her ears.” 2

PERIOD OF GESTATION

Gestation covered a period of nine missed menstruations and was
reckoned from the first one missed, birth being expected at any time
after the ninth one missed. ‘The phases of the moon served as a calen-
dar. One informant said:

We took notice whether the first menstruation that was missed occurred at
half-moon, quarter-moon, full-moon, or no moon—the old Indians reckoned every-
thing by the moon, for we had no calendars like now. The exact time was nine
moons. We made marks with charcoal somewhere to remember the moons as
they passed; I used to make marks on the birchbark covering of our wigwam, in
the corner, right over the place where I kept my things.

2 According to Hallowell, the Saulteaux believed that a child with a few gray hairs was
reincarnated. An infant that cried constantly was thought to be trying to utter the
name it bore in a previous existence. (Cf. Hallowell, 1940b, vol. 70, p. 50.)

HILcER] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 5

Another added:

I took notice of the phase of the moon of.my first missed menstruation and
counted the numbers of moons of the same phase as they passed. I kept that
number in my head. I always had a good memory and didn’t have to mark a
stick like many women did.

Informants differed as to the exact time during gestation in which
the child became a human being. Some had been told that the embryo
was human from the moment of conception; others, only from the time
that it gave signs of life; others had never heard any one tell. “We
were taught that the child was a human being as soon as it was con-
ceived: right from the start when we knew we were that way; from
the time we didn’t menstruate anymore.” “After 4 months the child
is completely shaped and starts to move in the mother; from then on
it isa human being. Some children even hiccough at that time.” “TI
always thought of my babies as being human beings after I had missed
two menstruations.” “I had an aunt who knew her baby was 2 or 3
months along when she lost it. (She lost it because she carried too
heavy a load of wood on her back.) You could tell that it was begin-
ning to form. They cleaned it just like a child that is born and
wrapped it. They gave a feast just like for a dead person and buried
it in the same way. They believe that a child is human when it is
conceived.”

Some informants had been taught that for the growth of the un-
born child marital relations of the parents was necessary during the
entire period of pregnancy; others noted that after conception “the
mother takes care of herself and the baby grows from the mother’s
blood.”

All informants agreed that there were no methods by which either
male or female sex could be produced, either at the time of conception
or during pregnancy. Sex, however, could be predicted by the con-
tour of the mother’s abdomen, by the location of the fetus, by the
movements of the child, by the physical condition of the mother, or by
a type of affinity. If the contour of the mother’s abdomen was point-
ed, she carried a boy, because a boy sat in a haunched position, having
knees toward front of his body; a girl sat low with knees on a level
with feet thereby causing her mother’s body to be rounded. “When
I had my first baby my mother told me it would be a girl, because I
was shaped round; and a girl it was.” If the fetus was located near
the sternum the mother was carrying a boy; if near the pelvic bones,
a girl. Boys gave evidence of more life than did girls and they in-
dulged in more violent and more frequent movements. Some women
noted that they had to void oftener when carrying boys than when
carrying girls. An affinity is said to exist between certain small chil-
dren and an unborn child; a small girl will be attracted to the woman

6 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLu. 146

bearing a girl; a little boy, to the fetus of a boy. These children will
climb on the woman’s lap, throw their little arms around her neck,
and wish to be where she is. They will follow her around and at every
opportunity come near her.

Girls were usually born about 10 days before they were expected,
but this was not so with boys. Boys were “harder on the mother
when born, and labor pains took longer.” “When my daughter was
born, I took sick at 2 o’clock and she was born at 6.” Twins could
nearly always be predicted because of the movement of the two
fetuses. “My sister told us right along that she would have twins for
there were always two hiccoughing: sometimes they hiccoughed to-
gether; sometimes, one after the other.”

Parents had no preference as to the sex of the child, except that
mothers usually were glad to have a number of girls since daughters,
more often than sons, cared for their aged parents.

EFFECT OF MOTHER’S PREGNANCY ON YOUNGEST CHILD

It had often been observed that during pregnancy a mother’s young-
est child developed an unusual thirst. This continued until the birth
of the baby, at which time someone offered the child a drink of water
in a small birchbark receptacle (pl. 24, 2). While the child was
drinking, the person offering the drink bent the receptacle outward,
thus forcing the water to spill away from the child. After this the
child no longer craved water.

FOOD TABOOS AND PRESCRIPTIONS

Informants on all reservations except Mille Lacs agreed that the
Chippewa husband was not hampered in his food by either taboos or
prescriptions during the pregnancy of his wife. One of the oldest
members on the Mille Lacs Reservation was convinced that the
fathers, too, should be restricted in diet:

Both father and mother must not eat turtle. If they do the baby will stretch
all the time just like the turtle stretches all the time, and that isn’t good for
baby. Nor must they eat catfish. I knew a baby who was born with rings of
sores encircling its head; the father had eaten catfish. The sores ate into the
baby’s head and it finally died.

At Nett Lake the mother of a freckled-face little girl was confused
and remarked that the child’s father must have eaten sea-gull eggs, for
she was positive that she herself had not done so.

For the pregnant wife, however, food was both restricted and
prescribed. The violation of these mores at any time during preg-
nancy affected the physical nature and/or the personality make-up
of the unborn child. The expectant mother was warned not to eat
much food at any time since “it made the baby large and birth diffi-

HILGER] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 7

cult,” but she was to observe this rule especially immediately preced-
ing birth—an empty stomach facilitated birth. A child’s head will
be large, she was told, and his limbs feeble, if a pregnant woman eats
either the head or the tail of any vertebrate animal; only the parts
between extremities should be eaten. Eating entrails of fish or of
any other animal will cause the navel cord to wind about the child’s
neck, shoulders, or body, and this, too, makes birth extremely difficult.
Eating lynx, also, causes the birth to be difficult, for “the lynx has a
hard time giving birth to its young.” Eating turtle delays birth
“because the turtle is slow.”

If an expectant mother would eat turtle her newborn baby would
stretch continuously. Eating fat or grease or tallow caused the
child’s head to become large; so did eating suckers. Eating popped
rice caused the baby to have difficulty in breathing. Eating sea-
gulls’ eggs caused the baby’s face to be covered with freckles, for
“sea-gulls’ eggs are speckled with freckles.” Chokecherries and hom-
iny constipated the mother.

Eating porcupine caused the baby “to have a stuffy nose”; to be
clumsy or crippled, clubfooted, or pigeon-toed. “I didn’t heed the
warnings of my mother; I ate porcupine and my boy was born club-
footed.” “The teachers in our schools used to tell us not to believe
these old Indian superstitions; but I believe in some of them. TJ can’t
help believing that they are true for I have seen them come true.”
Porcupine, too, made babies headstrong, difficult to train, hateful, and
touchy, for “the needles of the porcupine are sharp.”

Rabbit heads caused the child to become frightened easily. They
also caused large bulging eyes. Eating the head of catfish caused
the baby’s eyes to be small. Eating blackbirds and robins, or any
animal that makes a sound like a bird, caused the baby to be a cry-
baby. ating hell-divers made the baby moan, “a pitiful hard moan,
for the hell-diver makes a peculiar sound, a kind of sickening sound.”
Eating duck caused the child to vomit much; eating certain fish made
it bite. Siskos, a snakelike fish, caused it to have snakelike movements
of the body. Eating woodchuck caused the baby to shake continu-
ously, “for the woodchuck shakes all the time.”

Eating raspberries caused red marks on the child’s body; eating
blueberries, little blue marks like blueberries; eating blackberries,
caused black marks. “I have a blueberry mark; my mother used to
say she ate blueberries while she was carrying me.” “Once when I
was carrying a child, we were moving camp. My mother walked
behind me. I took a black raspberry and ate it. She saw me and told
me what would happen; and when my baby was born, he had a black
spot on his leg.” Other foods that were taboo were geese, eggs of
turtle, and “lash”—a fish of snakelike color. Mothers were encouraged

8 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 146

to eat venison, wild rice, lake trout, and whitefish. (Cf. Hilger,
1936 d, 46-48.)

CONDUCT TABOOS AND PRESCRIPTIONS

Most informants had never heard that husbands of pregnant wives
were in any way either restricted by conduct taboos or hampered by
conduct prescriptions except that the husband was strictly forbidden
to strike his wife or to speak roughly to her. A Lac Courte Orielle
informant, however, related the following:

According to the Chippewa traditions, hunting was at no time and in no way
ever considered to be injurious to anyone with one exception. If while an
animal was being dressed that had been killed by the husband of a pregnant
woman certain bad signs appeared—muscles in certain parts, say in the sides
or ribs of the animal, twitched or jerked—he knew he was seeing a bad omen:
stillbirth or death shortly after birth of his unborn child was in the offing.
This could be averted only if great sacrifices were offered. Wor example, the
man and his entire family and all those who lived in his household had to bring
various foods—in the early days it was wild rice, berries, dried meat, etc.—to
a place where all the grand-medicine men and women of the tribe were meeting.
The latter were feasted and their power thereby obtained in averting the evil.
The man knew, too, that from now on he had to refrain from hunting until after
the birth of his child. Some violated this custom; such cases are known and
the child suffered the consequences.

The expectant mother was restrained by many conduct taboos. “If
she minded the old people who taught her these, she was all right; if
she disobeyed them her child would have to suffer the consequences.”
An expectant mother was not to look at corpses of human beings if
she wished her child’s eyes to be bright looking and not “dazed and
queer looking, or even cross-eyed.” If the mother allowed her gaze
to rest on a deformed person or a deformed animal, “such as a de-
formed calf,” she knew her child would be physically deformed. It
might have drooping eyelids, or have its mouth drawn to one side.
In fact, expectant mothers were not to look at any unusual object and
if, inadvertently, they did so “they were not to turn and look again.”
Nor were they to look at snakes; it was best not to look at any animal,
or to torment any animal, even the smallest ones, such as a fly.

If an expectant mother stepped over a tree felled by lightning,
knowingly or unknowingly, her baby was born with a rash or a queer-
colored skin, and was usually subject to convulsions. Such a baby
had to be bathed daily, until cured, in a decoction made by boiling
bark or pulp of a tree that had likewise been felled by lightning. If
notice had been taken of such a fall, the bark was then and there
gathered and saved until the arrival of the baby. This taboo, how-
ever, was not known to the Lac Courte Orielle informants.

The child of a mother who had been frightened by a lizard was born

Hiner] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 9

with “a head shaped like that of a lizard, and with short arms and
little legs like those of a lizard.”

An expectant mother was told not to turn over in bed, lying down;
she was either to rise on knees and turn over, or to sit up and do so.
Rolling over in bed caused the umbilical cord to wind around the

child’s neck or body, thus causing either difficult birth or, at times, the
strangling of the child at birth. “Sometimes the cord was even ae
the arm of the baby, because the mother had turned without sitting
up.” “My mother instructed me, but I never heeded her. When my
children were born with their cords around their necks, she’d say,
‘There, now! See, I was right.’ ”

Women were taught to do hard work while carrying a child and in
this matter no leniency was shown them. Women who refrained from
hard work might anticipate adherence of placenta after birth. “TI
used to saw wood and do everything; it did not hurt me, but my little
girl’s back was all streaked, because of the wood that I packed on my
back while I was carrying her.” “A pregnant woman was not per-
mitted to lie around; she was made to do hard work, such as chopping
wood, because that kept the child loosened and made birth easy.”
Hesitating on the threshold of a door or lying across her bed did not
affect the expectant mother in any way. Such a woman was
instructed, however, not to enter the wigwam of any but her immedi-
ate relatives. It was known in some cases that her enemies—jealous
because of her marriage to her husband—had the favor of certain
medicine men who allowed them to use their “bad medicine.”? Some
of it was of such strength that even the slightest contact with one pos-
sessing any of it was sufficient to injure the unborn child, or even to
kill both mother and child. Pregnant women were not allowed to
receive gifts, not even food, from anyone except immediate relatives.
There was constant fear of “bad medicine.” For the same reason she
was not to lie on any one else’s bed but her own; her clothes might
come in contact with bad medicine—a thing they always feared.

Women were also advised to refrain from going to dances or from
mixing with crowds. If they did so on the Red Lake Reservation,
legs and feet had to be massaged previously with some medicinal
preparation made from snakeroot (wini’sigéns). On the Lac Courte
Orielle Reservation—
there was always fear that an expectant mother might come in contact with “bad
medicine” and be afflicted with péasikwa’kwé (meaning she was tripped in her
purpose). Therefore, any part of her body might at any time be rubbed with a
mixture of a root found in swamps (mackw6od’kawac) and with sturgeon grass

(naméwac’ )—we now callit catnip. This would offset any “bad medicine” which
was intended to harm her or her unborn child.

3 When Chippewa Indians say ‘“‘bad medicine” or ‘grand medicine” (kabé midé’wid) they
mean a mysterious magic power, including black art, possessed by certain members of the
Midé’ wiwin, their native religion. (Cf. also pp. 71-75.)

10 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 146
ABORTIONS

Both induced and spontaneous abortions occurred among the Chip-
pewa. Induced abortions, however, were not looked upon with favor
on any reservation and were, therefore, of rare occurrence. Judging
from the number of children born to older informants, one is led to
believe that among them there were few abortions, but a rather high
rate of infant mortality. One informant’s story is typical of those
told by many of the older women: “I had six children, all of whom
are dead: One died as a mere baby; two were 1 week old; one was 3
years old; tuberculosis took one boy at 19, and my last girl at 21.”

Several of the oldest informants had heard, when younger, of
women who had aborted children voluntarily; these instances, how-
ever, were spoken of in whispers. Most informants had never been
acquainted with such a woman. “No, I never knew any woman who
did that. An Indian doesn’t like to do that. My grandmother said
that years ago they suspected a woman of having done that but
couldn’t prove it.” “Mothers never induced abortions in old times;
they took good care so that their babies would be born right.”
“Indians are proud to be able to conceive and do not think much of
abortions.”

Abortions, however, did occur in the olden days, and they occur
today.

In old days, I heard of one woman that was not married, but that had babies;
and she caused abortions. They said she used to go where there was a fallen
tree and hang over that, and so cause the abortion. But after she was married,
every baby died just as it was born. That was long ago. I knew of her; but
I was not acquainted with her.

I know that there is medicine that women take and I know of some women
way back that did that, but I don’t think that is right. Sometimes the woman
never gets over it, and sometimes it kills her. Some try to hurt themselves,
too, and cause abortions in that way.

A very old informant knew of persons who had drunk decoctions to
induce abortions: “I was brought up by my great-grandmother who
had such knowledge. I never heard of abortions due to lying across
a log or carrying a heavy weight. The only way I heard of was by
means of tea. I don’t think there was much of this since Indians liked
children too well.” “I do not know of any full-bloods on the reserva-
tion today who cause abortions; but some of the others do that.” “I
know that abortions are being committed on the reservation today,
for I know several persons myself who do it. They drink Indian
medicine which is made by steeping some roots or herbs; that is all
they have to do. Those who know what to use do not tell.” One in-
formant had aborted seven times “because I’m not rightly married

HILGER] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 11

tomy man and I don’t want to have his kids around. I have enough to
do to take care of two—the ones my right husband does not take care
of. Some woman here in the village gives me tea to drink. It works
every time.” On the same reservation two informants told of four
old women who were dispensing decoctions to expectant mothers. A
woman 26 years of age—a mother of four small children—said she
had been told repeatedly by older women “to get medicine from ‘Old
Lady So-and-So’ the next time a kid was on the way.” A 30-year-
old mother of 7 children had been offered information regarding
artificial limitation by a white woman on one of the reservations, and
added, “If I don’t want any more children, I’ll go to ‘Old Lady So-
and-So’ and get some drink to get rid of the baby; I don’t need her,
that white woman, to advise me.” Informants noted that induced
abortions, in old days, as well as today, were performed either because
husbands were mean to their wives and did not support them, or be-
cause some women did not like children. Although decoctions were
the ordinary means used, women also induced abortions by lifting or
straining themselves or by jumping off high places.

Spontaneous abortions occurred because women worked beyond their
capacity, as, for example, in splitting wood. A severe fall might also
do harm. When a woman feared an abortion she might use preven-
tive measures, the knowledge of which was in possession of certain
persons. A 90-year-old informant possessing such knowledge demon-
strated the treatment. After placing some finely crushed roots, leaves,
and flowers of certain herbs on smouldering lint on a dustpan, she
stood over it flexing her knees so that the bottom of her long skirts
rested on the ground about the dustpan. This permitted the fumes
to ascend her clothing without any of them escaping. She remarked,

My sister and I have this knowledge. We generally use a frying pan, in place
of the dustpan I used here, and make the woman stand over that while the herbs
are throwing off medicine. It is done only if a woman hurts herself and is afraid
of an abortion. Knowledge to do this came to my sister and me from my mother,
and she received it from her grandmother. So it goes back to our great-grand-
mother. I wanted to teach it to my daughter when she was here last week, but
she wouldn’t even listen to me; she said she didn’t believe in any of it. None of
my children believe in the old Indian ways; maybe they will when they grow
older and wiser. Since no one but my sister and I have this knowledge, and we
won’t live much longer, it will die when we go; it belongs only to our family.

In old times the fetus of an induced abortion was buried either
under the floor of the wigwam in which the mother lived or under
the roots of the tree from which roots had been taken for making the
potion that caused the abortion, or anywhere under the ground. It
was never buried with funeral rites. Spontaneous abortions were
buried in the same manner as adults (p. 81).

12 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 146

BIRTH
PLACE OF BIRTH

If pregnancy ended in late fall or winter, birth usually took place in
the home wigwam of the permanent camping grounds. If, however,
there were preadolescent boys or girls in the family, a small wigwam
was built not far from the home to which the mother retired until after
the birth. “TI used to erect a special wigwam so that I might be away
from the children since we all lived in one-room wigwams in those
days.” Ifthe birth occurred in spring or summer, the mother prepared
a place in the open, some distance from the home wigwam, and gave
birth there. The birth also occurred in the open if the family hap-
pened to be enroute to or encamped in a place of food gathering, such
as maple-sugar making, fishing, hunting, trapping, berry picking, or
wild-rice gathering. “My mother-in-law was out trapping with her
husband when one of her children was born. She cut the cord herself
and continued to work.” “My grandmother used to tell how women
at times gave birth while the families were away from home, hunting.
They would stay in the same place for four days after a birth, and
then go on again.”

PERSONS ASSISTING AT BIRTH

Midwives (gata’niwi’kwé, a term also used for any woman adminis-
tering to the sick) usually attended the mother at birth. At times,
however, only the woman’s mother and sister, or some women who
were near relatives, did. “You could have whomever you wanted: I
wanted my mama and my sisters.” “AIJ] women seemed to know how
to assist at birth, and always there were several women present at
birth.” “T assist at birth even today and that without a doctor. Some
of the full-bloods don’t want men around; not even doctors.” “I my-
self think it is a disgrace the way women submit themselves to
strangers today when their babies are born, especially to those doctors;
when I was at the hospital with pneumonia, I heard all about it.
In old days not even the women looked at anyone more than neces-
sary ; a big piece of buckskin was placed over the mother to protect her
modesty.”

Only certain midwives, however, knew how to deliver stillbirths.
This was done by means of the midwife’s hands. “I know one mid-
wife who removed three children in stillbirths.” “A woman who was
dying of childbirth asked me to take her child as soon as she had died.
I did so and the child breathed twice and also died.” “I was called
to a home where the woman had died some time before. They did not
want to bury her with her unborn child, so I removed it by using both

Hiterr] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 13

of my hands. I had a hard time doing it for the baby, too, was dead.”

It was not customary for any man, not even the husband, to be
present at birth unless no women were available, or unless some strong
person’s assistance was needed. Some women objected to having their
husbands anywhere near the birthplace; others tolerated them “to
come in and to see how things were progressing.” “Sometimes if the
mother was too weak to kneel or stand, the women called upon the
husband to lift his wife.” “Men were not to come into the home until
the baby and mother were cleaned up. A man has something inside
of himself (informant insisted this was different from his soul) and
if he came into the place of birth something would happen to that
being in him; it might even die. The man wouldn’t amount to any-
thing after that. No; men had better stay away if they know what’s
good for them.” ‘There was nothing, however, by way of magic, such
as walking continuously or drinking or eating a particular food, that
the father could do to assist with the birth.

Medicine men or medicine women, shamans, were called in only if
labor was unusually hard, and it appeared as though the mother would
not survive.* ‘These exercised their powers and were well paid for
their services in material goods, such as cloth, buckskins, and kitchen
utensils.

Other assistants who were not of the immediate family were paid
in wearing apparel. Members of the immediate family did not expect
pay.

POSITION OF MOTHER DURING DELIVERY

In the early days all mothers took a kneeling position when giving
birth; some women dosotoday. “Those who are accustomed to giving
birth in a kneeling position find it difficult to do so lying down in bed,
like women have to do when they go to hospitals.” In the early days
the child was delivered on a thin layer of dry grass, which was spread
either on the ground or on a bulrush mat. Today a worn blanket
usually replaces the mat. “No quilts nor good blankets are used be-
cause after everything is over, all is burnt.”

Mothers employed several ways of bracing during delivery. One
method was to grasp a sapling that rested in the crotches of two poles
that were planted firmly into the ground some few feet apart. “My
children were all born while I was in a kneeling position bracing my-
self on a pole so that my elbows were on the opposite side of the pole;
the more the arms were used the less pain there was.” At the present
time, the pole may extend cornerwise in a room, being nailed to the
scantlings of the walls. Today, too, chairs or boxes often replace
poles.

4Cf. shamanistic powers, pp. 88-90.

14 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buur. 146

Some informants found pulling on a rope with all possible strength
of greater benefit than bracing. One end of the rope—either a strip
of moose hide, a pack strap, or some basswood fiber—was fastened
to the trunk or limb of a tree or, in more recent years, to some part of
the framework of the house. If the woman was too weak to pull the
strap, a short pole was tied to the end of the strap and she supported
herself by placing her elbows across it. “I was lying in bed in great
pain when my first baby was about to be born,” a young woman re-
marked. “They sent for my mother. When she came she made me
get out of bed and kneel on the floor, telling me to lean against a chair.
But I couldn’t stand that. Then they tied a rope—one we use for >
anchoring the boat—to the wall and put a stick through the end of it,
and they told me to pull onit. But I thought my end had come.”

“T had an awful time when one of my babies came. Finally, one of
the two old ladies that took care of me made me stand up and put my
arms around her neck like this [ with face toward assistant’s back] and
tried to lift me. Just as soon as she pressed her buttocks against my
stomach, the baby came.” An informant on the Red Lake Reservation,
in her nineties, gave the following account of the birth of her oldest
child—her only surviving one of 12:

My son was born in brush like this. I expected him because I was sick all
night. I had swept the floor of our wigwam and gotten it all cleaned so it
wouldn’t be dirty should anyone happen to come. Harly in the morning I took
what little clothes I had for him—tanned buckskins, mostly—and a scissors and
went out into the brush about as far from our home as that fence (about a rod).
I told my husband to bring hay out there, and after that I was there all alone. I
knelt down and braced myself on a stick I had gotten ready the day before: I
had placed a sapling in the crotches of two sticks that I had planted into the
ground. The child came, and I cut the cord and tied it. Then I wrapped up
the baby and hollered for my man to come. He took the baby and I walked with
him toward the home, and on the way I began to feel faint and my man braced
me with his arm. All that’s woman’s sorrow! I fainted after I got into the
wigwam. My mother and the neighbors were all out fishing, and it all came so
fast. I drank Indian medicine and soon got well again. The only time that I
was Sick at childbirth was when this child was born; he was my first child.

A middle-aged woman on the L’Anse Reservation recounted an event
her grandmother told:

My grandmother, who died some years ago at the age of seventy-three, said
that when she was a small girl they used to move from place to place. Once
while we were coming along the Flambeau Trail when it was cold and snow was
on the ground, my grandmother, grandfather, uncle, father, and mother were
traveling together. We stopped overnight in one place, and next morning, my
grandfather, grandmother, and mother stayed behind while the others moved on.
When night came my father cleared away the snow in a certain place. He built
a big fire there; then removed the remnants of the fire and built over this place
a wigwam covered with mats and brush, in which we slept. We kept asking
when mother was coming. “What’s wrong with mother?’ “Why doesn’t she

HILGER] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 15

come?” After 3 days my mother and grandparents came, my mother carrying a
little bundle. “Here’s a new baby,” she said. :

In those days people picked moss in swamps: They hung this swamp-moss on
bushes until it was dry and all the bugs had fallen from it, packed it in birch-bark
makuks or sacks and saved it for new babies. The babies were covered with this
moss and then wrapped in squirrel and weasel hides. Very few babies, they say,
died in those early days. They were like little kittens; they lived right on.
[Hilger, 1986 a, p. 21.]

AIDS AT CHILDBIRTH

At the onset of labor pains, the woman was given a decoction of
herbs. “It causes the child to come at once and easily too.” “Indians
made their own medicine to help birth along and to make pains easy
to bear. Only certain ones knew what plants to use, and you had to
pay the women who made the medicine.”® One informant used
nabanani’weok (a root that looks like the hair of a man) acécwa’cok
(high weed with flowers like sunflower), and mamaskwaga’misud
(root that becomes red when boiled). Another used bark of basswood
(wigobi’mic) and slippery elm (dcaci’gob). A third used sweetgrass
(wi’kic). (Cf. Flannery, 1940, pp. 21-22.)

Women were encouraged, too, to move about and, if possible, to
work until labor pains became very severe. “If you make them walk
around or work, the baby will be loosened and birth will be easy. We
were told not to overdo though.” ‘When I began feeling sick and
wanted to lie down my mother said, ‘Get up, this is not a sickness!’
And I had to go to work; I had to be on the move all the time.” All
during pregnancy expectant mothers were admonished to adhere to
the prenatal food and conduct taboos if they expected easy delivery.

Most informants knew of mothers who had died at childbirth, and
they attributed each death spoken of to some irregularity or difficulty
in delivering the placenta. “I knew of a woman who died because a
second child was born in the afterbirth.” “Some mothers died of
hemorrhages or neglect. The afterbirth was often hurried or pulled
so that parts were left behind and caused blood poisoning.” “When
my boy was born, the afterbirth had grown to my side. One of the
old ladies whom my mother had gotten to help with the birth washed
her hands with castor oil and went around the cord and pulled the
afterbirth out very easily. Not all women could do that; the ones
that could also knew how to take a child from a dying mother, or a
dead baby from a living mother. It seems the ones that could do
that best were married women who had never borne children.”

Some mothers refrained from work for 2 or 3 days after a birth ; most
of them, however, returned to work withina day. Several old inform-
ants were much amused at the idea of being confined to bed for several

5 Cf. uses of herbs, barks, roots, pp. 90-93.

16 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY (Buu. 146

days after a birth. ‘Some of those young women say they are Indians.
They may be Indians in some things; they most certainly are not when
it comes to forgetting themselves after their babies are born. Why,
I have seen many an Indian woman in the old days get right up after
her baby was born and help with the work—work like cooking a meal
or cutting up a deer her old man had brought in.” “After the baby
was born, the mother got right up and walked around.” “The mother
was lifted up to stand on her feet and given Indian medicine to drink.
Aiter that she walked around a little, although she didn’t do any work
for 2 or 3 days; but she didn’t lie down.”

The mother drank a cupful of tea 3 or 4 times a day made by boiling
the inner bark of oak, maple, or slippery elm. She did this for 10 to
14 days immediately following the birth.

THE NAVEL CORD

Usually one of the attending women cut the navel cord; at times,
mothers did so themselves (cf. p. 14). In the early days a stone,
chipped to a cutting edge, was used in severing the cord; in more recent
years, a butcher knife or scissors.

The cord was dried and placed in a little beaded buckskin container,
“about the size of my palm,” the edges of which were sewed together
with sinew. One such bag on the Red Lake Reservation consisted of
two pieces of buckskin, each 2 inches in diameter. The bag of a 13-
year-old son of an informant on the Nett Lake Reservation was made
of two pieces of buckskin, 114 by 114 inches each, covered with beads of
no particular design and finished off at the lower end’ with beaded
fringes. Girl’s bags did not differ in appearance from those of boys.
A child’s bag was attached to the bow of its cradleboard so that it
might play withit. Thisisstill done (cf. p. 23).

Informants varied as to the final disposal of the cord. Densmore’s
informants said that the child was to keep its own cord during its
entire life (Densmore, 1929, p. 51; cf. also Flannery, 1940, p. 11, and
Coleman, 1929, vol. 2, p. 52). One of the writer’s informants on the
Vermilion Lake Reservation had saved all of her children’s until they
grew up; “but now they are all lost.” Usually, however, the cord
was disposed of early so as to be efficacious to the child. A Red
Lake informant noted: “When a baby boy began to walk, his father
took his bag on a hunting trip and dropped it wherever he killed the
first animal. That caused the boy to become a good hunter. If it
was a bear the father had killed, and the bear was in a hole, the cord
was thrown into the hole after the bear was out.” In the old days on
the Lac Courte Orielle Reservation, after a boy was a year old his
navel bag was placed in the stump of an old tree and ashes were
thrown over it with the hope that a bear might find it and thereby

HILenR) CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 17

make a lucky hunter of the boy. <A girl’s cord was buried under wood
chips in order that she might become a diligent wood gatherer. “I
placed my little boy’s in the trunk of a tree. This is done all around
here today,” said one young mother on the same reservation.

Should a mother be careless and “put the bag anywhere,” the baby,
when it began to walk, might “get into things.” People would then
say, “He is searching for his navel cord.” Placing the bag in a
drawer made the child steal; throwing it into fire caused the child
to play with fire, and people to say, “He is playing with his navel
cord.”

Some of Densmore’s informants noted that the cord was saved to
procure wisdom for the child, and that if it were not saved the child
would become foolish. One of her informants, too, observed that if
the child poked the ashes of the fire, older persons would say, “He
is looking for the cord” (Densmore, 1929, p. 51).

THE CAUL

Informants on the Vermilion Lake, Nett Lake, and White Earth
Reservations attached no meaning to the caul. On the L’Anse Reser-
vation the caul was dried and put into a little buckskin bag, each
child so born being given its own. Carrying it was to bring good
luck. “But it doesn’t always bring good luck. Two of my daughters
and one of my sons were born with thin skins over their faces. One
of these girls has had all sorts of bad luck; she is entirely deaf now.”
Another informant on the same reservation remarked:

When I assisted at a birth one time there was no doctor. I looked at the
afterbirth and saw a thin piece attached to it. I was frightened, for I thought
the afterbirth had been torn and the mother would get blood-poisoning. I called
a neighbor. She laughed and said it meant good luck. She said, “I won’t touch
it; but you take it and wash it and hang it up to dry. Then give it to the boy
and you'll find he’ll succeed in life; he’ll become a good hunter, a good fisher,
ete.” When it was dry I looked at it and could plainly see the impression of
eyes and nose. It felt like silk. Later I helped at the birth of another boy
who also had a veiled face. [Hilger, 1936 a, pp. 20-21.]

On the Red Lake Reservation “a family was highly thought of and
felt honored for having such a child.” Informants on the La Pointe
Reservation respected the child, but not necessarily its family. On
the Lac Courte Orielle Reservation an old informant—

had never heard the people around here speak of its happening except once.
One old woman here remembers that it happened once when she was a child.
She tells that as a little girl she was always curious to hear the conversation of
older people. One time when a child was born she heard the women say that it
had come into the world with its veil. She remembers how serious these women
were when they talked about the new baby: they said that he was going to
possess powers of a spiritual nature—that he was like manito. But this person
died before he was old enough to show his powers.

884216—51——_3

18 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 146
THE FONTANELS

The Chippewa attached no meaning to the fontanels. Nor did
they give them any treatment, except that of refraining from touching
them with pressure for fear of injuring them. “Sometimes they
weren’t even washed; they were too soft.”

THE PLACENTA

Potions which the mother was given to assist birth were usually
also efficacious in bringing about the passage of the placenta. If
there was difficulty, however, she was given an additional decoction
made of nabananiwédk (a root that looks like the hair of a man)
and nabagoc’ (a flat-leafed weed). If the decoction plus the exertion
of her will power was unsuccessful, she pressed her abdomen with
her hands, or stretched, or gagged herself by tickling her throat with
her finger.

Informants on all reservations agreed that in the very early days
the placenta was always hung in ‘the crotch of a tree formed by the
main trunk and a branch at such a height that no dogs or other animals
could reach it. In later days it was buried. Informants thought that
the coming of the Whites introduced the custom of burial; in the early
days burying or burning it was decidedly taboo. Today, at least
among the younger people, it is generally cast into the fire. “When
assisting at a birth recently, I wrapped the afterbirth in a news-
paper and burnt it. The grandmother of the woman grabbed into
the fire for it, and exclaimed, ‘Oh! you shouldn’t have done that; you
should have buried it,’ and appeared quite angry.”

THE BABY’S FIRST BATH

A baby’s bathtub was a nonleakable birchbark receptacle similar to
the one shown in plate 24, 2.6 Its length was the distance from finger
tips to elbow; its width, two stretches of one hand—the thumb, in
measuring, gliding toward small finger. Certain plants, among them
catnip, spruce boughs, and twigs of gibaimina’migok, a plant that
grows in swamps, were boiled in water and the baby bathed in the
decoction immediately after birth or at least on the day of birth. Some
used “an herb that can be found where maples grow.” “Only
certain Indians around here know which plants to use. They will —
give you the crushed herbs but will not tell you what they are. They
pass the information on from generation to generation in their own
family.” The bath was thought to give the child a strong constitu-
tion and it might be repeated by the mother any time she desired.

®° Cf. birchbark containers, pp. 134-135 ; and plate 24.

Hinenr] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 19
PURIFICATION OF MOTHER

Informants on all reservations were agreed that there was no purifi-
cation ceremonial for the mother after birth, such as standing or
bending over fumes of herbs and roots. “I never heard old Indians
around here, nor any Indians anywhere, tell of any treatment that
the mother was given after the birth.”

ANNOUNCEMENT OF BIRTH AND CEREMONIAL CELEBRATION

Densmore’s informants related that “if a baby was born during the
night it was customary to notify the people by firing guns” (Densmore,
1929, p. 48). According to Father Pierz, a birth at any time was so
made known, for as soon as a child was born the father announced its
birth immediately by a “Schusz-Salve” (a greeting by gunfire) (Pierz,
1855, p. 20). An old informant on the Red Lake Reservation said
that “way back they used to tell of the father firing a gun after the
child was born; but that was long ago”; then added, “Yet I heard a
gun fired after one of my neighbors was born, and he is forty-six now.”

Another Red Lake informant remembered—

that neighbors, both men and women, as soon as they heard the gunshot, went
to the home of the newborn baby, gathered at the outside of the wigwam, right
near the place at which the baby was lying on the inside, shot off guns, and made
diving motions as though they would take the child; they also talked to it telling
it to be brave. After this they all ran into the wigwam and formed a circle
around the child, each one tapping it with his hand and telling it to be strong.
The mother and relatives then threw a pail of water on the persons—by this
time they were running around the child—in order to protect the child. Neither
the father nor any member of the family took part in this ceremonial. Nor was
this done often; but whenever it was carried out the child did well: it became
a warrior or some worth-while person.

Densmore recorded a similar account saying that immediately after
a delivery the people were notified of the birth of a child by the firing
of the gun.

The men of the father’s gens and those of one other gens went to the wigwam
and attempted to gain possession of the child, the father and the men of his gens
defending the child against the other party. The child’s relatives threw water,
and sometimes a mixture of flour and water, on the attacking party, and the
men fought and wrestled. It is said that “everybody was wringing wet” when the
struggle was finished. ‘The men who secured the baby took it to the leader of the
gens who carried it four times around the fire while the people sang a song with
words meaning “We have caught the little bird.”’ The parents gave presents to
the men to secure possession of the baby. It was said, “This was done to make
the child brave from hearing so much noise as soon as it was born.” [Densmore,
1929, p. 48.]

A feast—a gathering at which a meal was eaten and pipes were
smoked—was given either the day following the birth or very soon

20 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [But 146

thereafter. “Any number may come to the feast, either men or women.
Seven men came to the feast of my son the day after his birth.” “An
especially big feast was given when twins were born, for they were
considered sacred.”

POSTNATAL INTERESTS
NOSE RINGS AND EARRINGS

Very old informants gave the names of Chippewa men and women
who wore nose rings and who were old when they themselves were still
children. The oldest woman on the Nett Lake Reservation remarked :

I did not have my nose pierced, but all the people that were old when I was

young wore nose rings. Parents pierced the nose of a child—if they wished it
to wear a nose ring—soon after birth with the point of a knife made of a moose
rib. My mother wore a nose ring.
Much amused, an old Red Lake informant said: “My grandmother
had a hole in her nose, but she wore her two earrings in it!” “Long
ago many Chippewa wore nose rings.” Densmore wrote that heavy
ornaments were worn in the nose, which was pierced, some ornaments
being so large that they extended down over the mouth (Densmore,
1929, p. 141). “In winter,” she writes, “a little bunch of fur was some-
times substituted for the ring. An informant said that she had often
seen an old Indian with bunches of white fur in his nose and ears”
(Densmore, 1929, p. 36).

Although a girl’s ears were usually pierced immediately after birth,
“because the baby had no feeling then,” or within a few days after
birth, both boys and girls had their ears pierced any time while they
were still small. Some had several piercings in the lobe and a number
along the edge of the ear. “Some cut long holes in the ears and wore
many earrings.” Formerly the ears were pierced with the point of a
bone knife, and consequently, the incisions were elongated; in recent
times, the point of a metal knife or of a large needle was used. Any
person might pierce a child’s ear. The act was devoid of meaning or
significance; there was no ceremonial connected with it: “It was for
ornament’s sake only.” “In order that the piercings would grow right,
mother turned our earrings once in a while.” One informant pierced
the ears of all her children within 4 days after birth. She molded to
points both ends of lead used as weights on fish nets, brought the
points together, and inserted them gently into the opposite sides of the
ear lobe. Each day she pressed them a little closer together until they
finally met.

Earrings were often made of coins, especially dimes. These were
usually hammered out and bent into various shapes. A woman on the
Lac Courte Orielle Reservation, who died in 1933 at the age of 115,

Hierr] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 4

wore a chain of 10 hammered dimes in each ear. The oldest woman
on the Nett Lake Reservation wore earrings made of twisted wire and
dimes in 1939: a Canadian dime dangled from one ear; an American,
from the other. Densmore wrote: “The most common sort of earring
consisted of a bunch of small, elongated metal cones, suspended at
the tip. It was not uncommon for so many of these to be worn that the
ear was weighted down by them” (Densmore, 1929, p. 36).

CRADLES, DIAPERS, “TALCUM POWDER,” BABY HAMMOCKS, METHOD OF
TRANSPORTING BABY

Cradleboards (dikina’gon) (pl.2) were being used by a few persons
on all reservations except White Earth and L’Anse. In constructing
them the traditional pattern had been followed. The board of one
seen on the Nett Lake Reservation (1939) was of cedar wood (bass-
wood might have been used since both are of light weight). Its length
was 28 inches; its greatest width (head end of board), 1114 inches;
and its narrowest width (foot end of board), 1014 inches. About 514
inches from the head end, a bow-shaped frame was inserted, the ends
of which protruded beyond the reverse side of the board where each
was held in position by a small peg of wood which had been inserted
through it at right angles to the protruding end and parallel to the
board. The bow was double bent: the dip at the center was 11 inches
from the board and each of the two outward bends 131% inches. About
114 inches from the foot end, a U-shaped band of cedar wood, 114
inches wide, formed a footrest. Its ends extended nearly halfway up
the board. This particular cradle had been in use for 12 years, several
families using it.

A baby that was too small to be tied to the cradleboard itself was
placed in a birchbark container (6dapi’béwin ‘or wikwacida’cindwin),
and then tied to the board. Containers of larger dimensions were
made as the baby grew in size until it was finally big enough to be tied
to the board itself.

Formerly, the cradle was prepared for the baby’s occupancy by
placing a piece of soft, tanned deer hide on the board, or in the con-
tainer. Over this, from baby’s waistline up, weasel or squirrel skins
were placed—the mother had saved these in preparation for the baby’s
coming; from waistline down, a thick layer of dried swamp moss or
rabbit skins was spread. The baby was placed on this. Weasel or
squirrel skins were then drawn over the baby’s chest and arms; its
lower body and legs were covered with moss and rabbit skins. Next,
the ends of the deer hide were brought over and tucked tightly around
the baby. After this, two pieces of beaded buckskin (pl. 2, 2)—each
had been securely fastened to one side of the cradle with strips of
tanned buckskin—were brought together and laced over the middle

22 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY { BULL. 146

of the baby, beginning at the foot end. The beaded buckskin had been
replaced on the Nett Lake cradle by black velvet lined with gray outing
flannel and edged in buckskin. The buckskin edges were so pierced
that they could be laced together with buckskin laces.

The length of a cradleboard on Vermilion Lake Reservation in 1939
(pl. 2, 7) was 3014 inches; its width at head end, 12 inches, and at foot
end, 10 inches. The footrest, attached 114 inches from the foot end,
extended 1014 inches toward the headend. Its bow-shaped frame was
12 inches from the board at center dip and 16 inches at outer bends;
it protruded 2 inches beyond the back of the board. A mother who
had borrowed it—it had been made by her husband’s parents for some
other child—wrapped her 6-month-old baby in it in the following
manner: Sitting on the ground to the right of the cradle, she folded a
small blanket fourfold and four-cornered, and placed it on the board
so that it reached from the foot end to the place where the baby’s
neck might be. Next she folded a diaper twofold and four-cornered,
and placed it on the board so as to reach from feet to waistline. Over
this she laid a smaller blanket, again only to waistline. She then
folded the baby’s dress upward so as to leave its body below waistline
bare and placed it upon the folded cloths, moving it twice so as to make
certain that an approximate distance of 2 inches was left between its
feet and the footrest. The blanket which had been placed on the board
last was then folded over the baby’s body and tucked between legs and
groins. After this the foot end of the outer blanket was brought over
the feet. Then the portion of the outer blanket on the left side was
brought over both legs and tucked under the right side; the portion
on the right side was brought over and tucked under the left side.
Next, the left arm was laid straight alongside the body, the blanket
laid over it and held tightly until the right arm, too, was straightened.
The blanket from the left side was then tucked under the right arm.
Next, the portion on the right was held tightly across the body and
tucked in on the left side. “He is almost too big for this cradle,”
she remarked. “But he likes to be in it when he is tired from moving
around freely.” Preventing the baby from moving by placing her
left hand upon it, she brought the outer covering—the one attached
to the board and in this instance of black plush—over it. She laced
these from foot end to neck, leaving only the baby’s head to protrude.
She then set the cradle against the side of the house and went off to
poke her outdoor fire for dinner. When babies in cradleboards get
restless, mothers free their hands by untying the upper section of the
outer cover.

A cradleboard in a Mille Lacs Reservation home in which the Midé’-
wiwin drum was kept had been made for a baby by an old man in
1935, and it was still being used in 1940. Its length was 24 inches;

HILGER] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 23

its greatest width, 1114 inches, and its narrowest width, 11 inches. The
footrest, a U-shaped 2-inch strip of cedar wood, was fastened to the
board 1 inch from the foot end, reaching 9 inches toward the head end;
its width at the opening was 7 inches. The greatest width of the 2-inch
bow-shaped frame attached at the head end was 14 inches; the nar-
~ nowest, 111% inches; its depth at dip was 1114 inches; at crest, 12 inches.
Each end of the frame protruded 3 inches beyond the back of the
board. It was held in position by being nailed to a 114-inch piece of
wood that had itself been securely nailed to the back of the cradle-
board.

The purposes of the cradleboard are to train the baby’s back to be
straight, to permit the mother to carry the baby on her back when
traveling, and to keep it safely in place while she is working. “The
mother can set the baby up in its cradleboard anywhere, against a tree
or a wigwam or any place, or she can hang it on a tree so dogs can’t
bother the baby while she is busy making sugar or picking berries.
The baby can’t get hurt if it falls over: the bow protects its head and
body, and the footrest, its little feet.” Gulfillan, who spent many years
with the Chippewa, wrote of a Chippewa baby in its cradleboard :

It likes the firm feeling of being bound and swathed in this frame, and will
ery to be put into it. The frame can be leaned against the wall at any angle, and
So it can be relieved by change of position; or, best of all, the mother carries it
suspended on her back, by a strap passed around her forehead, while she goes
about her work. [Gilfillan, 1901, p. 86.]

Articles hung on the bow of the Nett Lake cradle were a navel-cord
bag and four 3-inch strings of beads, each tipped off with the instep
bone of a porcupine foot. The child in playing slid these along the
bow. A Vermilion baby’s cradle toy consisted of several duck crani-
ums strung by the bills on a strip of buckskin. Other small bones
of animals were often strung and used as toys. Densmore records
that two articles representing spider webs were usually hung on the
bow of the cradle. She was told that “they catch everything evil as
a spider’s web catches and holds everything that comes in contact with
it” (Densmore, 1929, p. 52). She also mentions, as favorite toys,
small white shells and bunches of tiny birchbark cones, one of which
was occasionally filled with hard maple sugar and “hung in such a
manner that the child could put it to its mouth and get a little of
the sweetness” (Densmore, 1929, p. 52). Cooper records caribou teeth,
the shoulder blade of the turtle, feathers from the skinned and the
dried duck head, a little net to catch oncoming colds, and a beaded
navel bag as cradle charms used by the Lake of the Woods and the
Rainy Lake Ojibway (Cooper, 1936).

Although very often Chippewa families today have cradleboards,
nearly all babies found in homes visited during this study were snugly

24 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 146

and tightly wrapped up in small blankets or in cloth of some sort.
One method of thus wrapping the baby was like that used by the Ver-
milion mother in wrapping her baby for the cradleboard (p. 22) ;
the blanket, however, was held in place by safety pins. A mother on
the Mille Lacs Reservation placed her baby to her right on a square
piece of blanket resting on the ground in diamond position, with the
head corner turned over toward the inside. She straightened the
baby’s legs and held them in position by placing her left hand on
its knees. She then brought the foot end corner of the cloth over the
feet and well up over the abdomen. Then holding the baby in posi-
tion with her right hand, she straightened its right arm and laid it
snugly against its body. She next brought the corner of the cloth
at the right of the baby across its body, laid the baby’s left arm snugly
against its side, and tucked the cloth tightly under the baby’s left
side. ‘The remaining corner was next brought tautly around the baby
and fastened in the back with three safety pins, one each at chest,
back, and feet. “Babies get so used to being tied up this way that
they will not rest any other way,” remarked the young mother (pl. 2,
3). Densmore notes this custom arose “after the Chippewa at-
tained cotton cloth” (Densmore, 1929, p.48). One very old informant
on the White Earth Reservation was heard to say regarding a crying
baby, “Pin him up tightly in his blanket. You know, I used to hear
my old grandmother say that babies like best to be wrapped tightly
in deer hide for then they feel like they did in their mother’s womb.”
Babies so wrapped were usually placed in hammocks.

Babies’ hammocks or swings (wéwébe’sikin) were seen on all reser-
vations (pl. 3, 3, 4). They were made by stretching two ropes and
fastening the ends to opposite stable objects, such as poles of a sun
shelter, trees, or scantlings of walls in a house. A blanket was folded
over the ropes and the ends were so placed as to overlap well under-
neath the baby, thus preventing the baby from falling through. The
ropes were held apart at the head end by a small stick, crotched at the
ends; on hot days one was also placed at the foot end. A baby was
seen resting in a hammock under a sun shelter where a mother was
making birchbark trays used in winnowing wild rice; under trees
near a home where a mother was braiding rugs; under trees in the
woods where a mother was picking berries; fastened cornerwise in a
home where a mother was doing her kitchen work; or fastened corner-
wise over a bed on which a grandmother was sewing while tending
the baby. In the early days hammocks were made of cords of bass-
wood fiber and tanned hides.

Very small babies, as indicated before, were transported on their
mothers’ backs in cradleboards. A baby, however, that was able to
stand the strain was carried on its mother’s back seated in its mother’s

HILGER] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 25

blanket or shawl. This baby was said to be bemomakwa’so (pl. 4).
On the La Pointe Reservation, a mother stooped so deeply that her
back was nearly horizontal, took the hands of her 4-month-old baby,
swung the baby gently to her back over her left shoulder, brought its
little arms about her neck, flung her blanket over her head, pulled it
tightly about her waistline, and then knotted the two ends that met
there. She raised herself while pulling the upper section of the
blanket tightly around her own shoulders, thus holding the baby
snugly in position. She then tied the upper corners into a knot also.
Caring for the baby in this way left her hands free to hold things.
Mothers on all reservations tied their babies similarly and carried
them long distances.

On Vermilion Lake Reservation a young mother returned from a
visit to friends living a few miles away. She packed her 8-month-old
baby on her back and carried a package of groceries and two winnow-
ing baskets in her hands. She dropped the latter upon arrival,
stooped so deeply that her back formed a horizontal plane, untied
the knot of her blanket (all four corners formed one knot), pulled
the blanket off with her left hand, and with her right hand slid the
baby off her back, to the right.

Although rabbitskins were used as diapers, being washed and re-
used, or more often thrown away, swamp moss (asa’kAmik) alone, or
mixed with well-dried down of cattail, was most generally used. Moss
was gathered from swamps and marshes in summer, hung on bushes
until dry, and then shaken and pulled apart so as to rid it of all
insects and dry weeds. Mothers kept supplies of it on hand, storing
it in makok’ (pl. 24,3). “When moss was used for diapers the baby
seldom became chafed, and when it was unwrapped you could smell
only sweet moss.” ’

Several types of “talcum powder” were used for babies. Some in-
formants had used ashes of cedar bark, or finely powdered rotten
stump, or decayed wood of cedar or of Norway pine; others preferred
charcoal of cedar wood rubbed to powder between palms of hands.
“This was put wherever the child was chafed and healing set in at
once.” Some used cattail that had grown old and gone into powder;
others used finely crushed dried leaves and flowers of miickégo’bok, “a
plant that grows inswamps.” Some used deer fat.

LULLABIES

The Chippewa lullabies are conventional songs of nonsense syllables.
Upon insistence that an informant sing a lullaby with words, she an-
swered, “The Whites have words but we Indians don’t; the Indians
just sing: ‘Ba! ba! ba!’ and ‘Wé! wé! wé!’?” While an interpreter
transmitted information, an aged informant rocked her great-grand-

2°26 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL, 146

child in her arms singing to it in a friendly, talking manner, but
merely saying, “Ba, ba! Ba, ba! Wi, wi! Wi, wi! Ba, ba! Ba,
ba!” Another lullaby consisted of a repetition of the syllables, “Wa,
wa! We, we!”7

A CHILD’s FIRST CLOTHES

The rabbitskins and weaselskins in which a baby was wrapped
when in its cradleboard (cf. p. 21) were its first clothes. In cold
weather these not only covered the upper part of its body but were
often wrapped about its feet. When a child was old enough to creep
about the wigwam, it wore a little slip of soft, tanned deer hide—fawn
hide if available—in cold weather; it wore no clothing whatsoever in
warm weather.

When about a year old, a child wore its first moccasins. These fol-
lowed the pattern of those worn by adults except that each had a small
hole “about the size of a blueberry” cut in either the heel or the ball of
thesole. This was done hoping that the child when grown to maturity
would work so hard hunting, if a boy, or gathering wood, and berries,
if a girl, as to wear out his or her moccasins. Neglecting to do this
would cause the child to grow up to be lazy—so lazy that he would
not even wear out the soles of his moccasins.”

At night babies were wrapped in rabbitskin blankets (wa’bds
swa’yaki). One such on the Vermilion Lake Reservation measured
about 50 inches square. The maternal grandmother of the baby for
whom it was made had used from 60 to 70 rabbitskins. Her daughter,
her assistant in making such blankets, described the process as follows:
Skins were stripped off rabbits from the back toward the head, hung
up to dry, then rolled together and stored until a sufficient number was
at hand. They were neither tanned nor salted. On the evening pre-
ceding the day of weaving, the inner side was sprinkled with water,
“Just like you sprinkle wash.” In the morning the skins were cut in
strips an inch wide, beginning at the head end and cutting round and
round the body circumference. When all was ready for weaving, a
framework of poles was set up and a strip of fur stretched taut across
the top. Next, a strip of fur was attached to the upper left corner of
the frame, and moving toward the right was tied in loops to the taut
strip of fur, each loop being fastened by means of a knot. When the
weaver had reached the right-hand corner, she moved leftward, again
forming loops by tying a knot to each loop of the first tying. Looping
and tying was continued back and forth until the blanket was of the
desired size.

7Cf. Densmore, 1910, p. 163, and 1913, p. 241, for music to luilabies ; 1913, pp. 138-139
and 302-305 for songs for entertainment of children. For other Chippewa songs, see
Burton, 1909.

HiLerR] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 27

One informant and her mother assisted each other simultaneously
on the same blanket. The informant worked from left to right, and
her mother, from right to left. Both met halfway, knotted their
strands together, and each returned to her starting point with her own
strand. It took an entire day to weave one large blanket.

Rabbitskin blankets were sometimes worn as coverings by adults,
the number of skins required ranging from 150 to 200. The number
of skins needed also depended on the looseness of the loops: the looser
the loops the fewer skins were needed. Some workers made loops so
small “that one was unable to poke one’s fingers through them.”

Blankets if stored in mothproof boxes or trunks or hung up so as
to be completely exposed to air lasted for many years. One was so
exposed on the wall of the kitchen of a Vermilion Lake informant in
August 1939.

A CHILD’S FIRST ACTIONS, FIRST WORD, FIRST STEP, FIRST PORTAGE, AND
FIRST TOOTH

No significance was attached to a newborn infant’s clenching its
fists during the first days of life. However, on the Mille Lacs Res-
ervation its elders would not allow it to touch the fingers of one hand
with those of the other, for “that is not a good sign; it’s like counting
the number of days it has still to live.” All informants were agreed
that no significance was attached to a child’s first word. “People
simply said, ‘Now he is talking.’” Since, however, early speech was
considered a sign of intelligence, a child was often given raw brains
of any small bird as food in the belief that it would thereby be aided
in developing early speech.

When a child took its first steps (cigawe’cikwé)—“more than one or
two, for it has to take a little walk, at least half the length of the wig-
wam’’—a feast was given. If the steps were taken at home, the par-
ents gave the feast ; if it walked to neighbors, the latter gave it. Some-
times small children in the neighborhood were invited; sometimes
“everybody that was near.” “No feast was given when the baby made
its first step. But when it took its first short walk alone (3 yards
would be sufficient) its parents gave a feast.” “When the baby walks
alone to the neighbors for the first time, the neighbors give a feast
because the baby has been on its first visit. Always the ones to whom
it goes give the feast.”

Nett Lake and Vermilion Lake informants gave a feast on the day
that a child made its first portage on foot. The parents of the child
provided the feast and all those portaging were invited. “My brother
made his first portage on foot when he was three years old.”

The advent of the first tooth was not celebrated by Chippewa on
any reservation. Nor was any significance attached to the loss of

28 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buun. 146

the first tooth. But on the Mille Lacs Reservation at the loss of each
tooth, the loser blackened the tooth with charcoal and then threw the
tooth toward the west saying, “Noka’ [Grandma], let another tooth
grow immediately!” The charcoal was thrown to the east, the person
saying, “Nimi’cd [Grandpa], let my tooth grow right away!” “I
have lost all my teeth,” said an informant older than 90 years, “and
I threw all of them over there [to the west].” According to Flan-
nery’s informants, the milk teeth were thrown toward the east with
the same belief that new teeth will grow faster and stronger (Flan-
nery, 1940, p. 12).

NURSING AND WEANING
NURSING

In most instances a mother nursed her baby immediately after birth.
An old Lace Courte Orielle informant, however, said that a child
should not be nursed until 2 days after birth, because “mother’s milk
is not considered healthy until then. If the baby cries the first two
days, it is to be given water; if it sleeps, it is not given anything.” If
the condition of the mother’s breasts did not permit nursing or if the
mother died, the child was given either wild-rice or corn-meal por-
ridge boiled with meat or fish broth. The baby sucked this from a
small hole punched in a thoroughly cleaned and dried bladder of an
animal—“moose or rabbit or some animal like that.”

There was no set time for nursing; babies were nursed whenever
they cried. Nor was there any custom as to which breast was to serve
the feeding at any particular time.

Children were commonly nursed until they were 2 years of age.
All informants, however, knew children that nursed when they were
4, or even 5 years old. “Children used to play around and come run-
ning to their mothers to be nursed.” “One woman in the village is
nursing her boy now, four years old. My youngest brother used to
be playing with a bow and arrow and, with them in his hands, come
running up to mother to nurse. Mother weaned him by going off
on a trip, leaving him at home.” “I knew a boy who nursed when he
was five years old. I have seen him pull his mother’s sleeve while
she was visiting, wanting her to leave the company so he might nurse.”

Densmore’s informants knew of instances in which a mother nursed
two children, 3 and 4 years of age, at the same time (Densmore, 1929,
p. 51). Gilfillan, too, observed this: “Then it gets hungry and goes
and takes a pull at its mother’s breast, and this it keeps up till three or
four years of age; even after a younger baby has come, the mother
nurses both together” (Gilfillan, 1901, p. 64). A child, however, was
not nursed while the mother was pregnant.

HiLenR] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 29

Mothers nursed babies either holding them in their arms or hold-
ing them tied to the cradleboard, the cradleboard being held as would
be the baby. The bow-shaped frame extended backward beyond the
arm. One young Lac Courte Orielle mother was seen repeatedly
nursing her small baby in a cradleboard. Older children stood while
nursing. .

In order to increase milk secretion, mothers were advised to eat
porridge of fish or meat broth and corn meal or wild rice. “Corn soups
and such thick soups made the baby strong.” ‘The mother was always
given the best kind of food, such as venison and soups; that made the
milk flow, and helped the baby grow.”

Eating hominy or chokecherries “dried up the milk”; so did potatoes
and bread. One very old Red Lake informant blamed younger
mothers for violating these customs:

In old days they gave the mother only soups for a week after birth. Babies
today don’t become strong because mothers eat everything; they eat choke-
cherries and wild fruits of all kinds and soon their milk flow is blocked. Then
they come to old people whose advice they wouldn’t follow and ask for help.

Some old man or woman who has the proper knowledge for such cases, brews
tea for them. The women drink it, and their milk comes back.

When asked if magic played a part in this she replied:

This has nothing to do with magic. It’s common sense! It’s the only cure
we had!
A decoction of raspberry roots (miskégé’mi naka’wic) was especially
potent in producing milk secretion.

WEANING

A mother wishing to wean her child separated it from herself
by placing it with relatives or neighbors, or’ by leaving it at home
while she herself went away on a visit. Some mothers tried to pre-
vent the secretion of milk by tying muskrat hides or similar soft
hides across the breasts.

Formerly, some mothers frightened children by blackening the
nipples with charcoal; today some treat the nipples with peppered
grease or with peppery salad dressing. One informant said: “While
I was weaning my four-year-old girl she used to climb on this bed
whenever I’d take a rest, wanting to nurse. I’d scare her by saying,
‘You’d better not; a mouse might climb on the bed!’ She was afraid
of mice.”

Often the child was given the rind of bacon to suck. Densmore
noted that babies were weaned by being given fish broth or wild rice
well boiled (Densmore, 1929, p. 51).

30 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY (BULL. 146

ATYPICAL CONDITIONS
TWINS AND TRIPLETS

Informants were certain that twins (nic6’dé) were born to Chippewa
before they intermarried with Whites. Twins are born today to those
who consider themselves, and who are considered, full-blood Indians;
several such families have two sets of twins and one has three sets.
Some twins were both of one sex and others each of a different sex.

Mothers predicted twins during gestation because of simultaneous
or successive hiccoughing in two distinct parts of the uterus. All mem-
bers of a family having twins were respected and well thought of in
the community. “The Indians felt a reverence toward twins and con-
sidered them one.” The oldest Red Lake informant said, “We didn’t
tease nor touch twins like we did other children. All their lives twins
were treated better than other people: they were held more sacred.
They were given no extra food nor were they petted; but it was a
crime to mistreat them or talk badly about them.” “People honor twins
and feel they are something special,” said an old medicine woman on
the La Pointe Reservation. “Sometimes a twin is mistreated and dies,
and soon the other twin is dissatisfied and also dies.”

Informants had not only heard twins spoken of as related to the
spirit world, but themselves believed they were. “Twins are said to
have come from the thunders (animiki’).” “You know the Indians
were scared when twins were born; they honored them as spirits.”
“T remember the first set of twins born on this reservation [ Vermil-
ion]. Everybody respected the mother, and thought it was wonder-
ful; they thought much of them; they spoke of them in connection
with manito.” No supernatural powers, however, were ascribed to
them.

Informants knew of only three sets of triplets among the Chippewa:
one in Canada, one on the Red Cliff Reservation (Wisconsin), and one
on the Red Lake Reservation. The Canadian triplets were two boys
and one girl. “They were quite big when we left Canada,” said the
informant. “All three used to hop out of their wigwam and play
together.” Two sisters on the Red Lake Reservation, in their sev-
enties in 1939, said Indians honored twins as spirits but were fright-
ened when triplets arrived. They related:

When we were real small, a woman gave birth to triplets. The mother’s
grandmother helped with the birth. The babies came one right after the other.
The grandmother got very frightened and killed the three babies—three little
boys—and dropped one on top of the other in a heap. We were too young to
remember seeing it, but we remember the commotion that existed, and people
crying, and everybody being sad. When we were older, we were told that the old

lady cut the cords, and then cut the babies’ heads off. We were related to them,
and this is the truth.

Hinenr] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 31

A very old Mille Lacs informant knew quadruplets—four boys—
who grew to maturity. “All four were respected by the people and
seemed related to manito. They possessed supernatural powers: all
four were sometimes called to a sick person and were always able to
tell whether that person would live or die.”

SICK BABIES

Decoctions in which sick or weakly babies were bathed might be
made of catnip (naméwac’) and cedar boughs (gi’cik kwabak), or of
an herb that grows “where there are maples.” Plants were gathered
at appropriate times during the year, and dried and stored. In nearly
all Chippewa homes, bunches of herbs and roots can be seen hanging
from rafters or from joints of rafters and walls (cf. pp. 90-93).

Sick babies were given purgatives. One of these was made by boil-
ing “roots of various kinds” with maple sugar and storing these as
maple sugar cakes. When needed they were melted in a little water
and given the baby to drink. Nursing mothers chewed the root or
bark of cab0’cigén (literally, “a little purgative”), the baby in drink-
ing its mother’s milk deriving the benefit of it. Sometimes a buck-
skin sack of the same root or bark was heated and placed on the
baby’s abdomen, the belief being that the medicinal effects penetrating
the intestines relieved constipation. An older baby was given a piece
to chew.

Densmore noted that an ailing child “was held in the warmth of
the fire and its body rubbed with grease, goose oil being approved
for this purpose” (Densmore, 1929, p. 51).

Although very soon after birth a child was given a name by some
elderly person who had been in continuous good health during life
and who had received power in a dream to give a name (p. 38), a
sickly child—one that cried a great deal—might be given a second
name by another old person for the restoration of health. “The sick
child was given to some old person so that it would live as long as
that old person had already lived. This person gave a name to the
child at a feast and named the child in the same way as it was given
its first name.” Should a child take ill a second time and continue
in its illness after medicinal remedies had been applied, it was given
a third name by a third old person with all the ceremonials used when
receiving its first name. A child might therefore have several names,
receiving all but one for the restoration of health. “Other names
than its first one are given when a child is sick so it will live long and
become an old person. As long as it is a child, it can be given a name-
sake for health’s sake.” *® “Sometimes a child who was critically ill

§ Hallowell found that among the Saulteaux an infant that cried constantly was thought

to be trying to utter the name it bore in a previous existence, and that if it was given
this name, it stopped crying (Hallowell, 1940, p. 50).

32 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buut. 146

was given to another person as namesake and he gave it another name
according to his dream.- And the child usually got well.”

Sickly children, too, were admitted into the Midé’wiwin with the
hope that health would be restored. Two sickly children between 4
and 5 years old were admitted at the Ponsford celebration on the
White Earth Reservation in June 1938 (pl. 6); one a little over a
year old, at the Nett Lake Reservation in August 1939 (p. 64).

DEFORMED BABIES

Neither head nor body deformation was practiced by the Chippewa.
If a child was born deformed, it was said that the mother had been
frightened while pregnant. “Twelve years ago a woman in this vil-
lage had a baby whose head was shaped like a lizard’s: it had short
arms and little legs, just like a lizard’s. The woman had been fright-
ened by a lizard after being pregnant a short time.” “A boy born
here had a mouth like a rabbit and elbows at the shoulders; his rump
and backbone were hairy and he had a tail. People said that the
mother must have been frightened by a rabbit while she was carrying
the boy.” “My mother told me of a baby that was born with a tail,
and of another that had ears near the temples.”

INCEST

Informants on the Nett Lake, Lac Courte Orielle, Red Lake, White
Earth, Vermilion Lake, and Mille Lacs Reservations were questioned
as to incest between parent and child and between siblings. The facial
expression, the tone of voice which dwindled to a whisper, and the
firmness of the “No! No!” (Ka’in! Ka’in!) lead one to believe that
incest was decidedly an unusual event. “No, I never heard of that.
It couldn’t have happened in old days, for parents took care of their
children then.” “I never heard anyone say anything like that to
have happened in old times. I heard of a man, who is still living,
who was the father of his daughter’s child; the daughter is dead now.
That could never have happened in old days. Everything was very
strict then.”

ILLEGITIMACY

Illegitimacy occurred among the early Chippewa. One old in-
formant remarked,

Yes, there were some illegitimate children in the early days, but not many.
It is different now; it is quite common now. It was a scandal then; now it is
nothing. We didn’t like that to happen. Such girls were not respected after
it occurred, but we did not send them away. Girls in families were always
treated better than boys, but when that happened the girl was no longer well
liked. No, nothing was ever said to the father of an illegitimate child. Long

HitenR] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 33

ago when an unmarried girl was pregnant, her father was waiting to kill her
child. I heard of one girl, when I was a child, who gave birth to her baby in the
woods and killed it there; at least no one ever saw the child and everybody knew
she gave birth to it in the woods. I remember people talking in a whisper about
that girl whenever she came around.

Kémi’cégon, the Chippewa word for illegitimate child, means “a stolen
child,” or “a child conceived through sneaky ways.”

The unmarried Chippewa mother did not desert her child formerly,
nor does she do so today; “that’s a law of the people.” She usually
cared for it in her parental home. The child was not well liked until
after it grew up; “it was considered lower than the rest of the people,
but it was cared for.” “Grandparents of the child (paternal and
maternal) quarreled with each other, telling each other to take care
of the child.” Parents of both the unmarried mother and the unmar-
ried father felt disgraced; “both were always in hopes that the man
would marry the girl.” If the mother married a man, other than
the father of the child, she gave the child to her own mother.

Infanticide of either illegitimate children or other children had
not been heard of by any informants, other than the two accounts
given above (pp. 30, 33).

SLAVES, SERVANTS, AND ADOPTED PERSONS

The Chippewa at no time enslaved people, nor did they treat anyone
as a servant. Adoption of persons, however, was very prevalent in
the old days, and is so today: nearly all homes visited while making
this study housed nonmembers of families. Small children were, and
are, adopted not only by relatives, but also by friends. Older children
and adult persons either chose a home and asked to be adopted or
they were invited to do so. :

There were no adoption ceremonials. All that was necessary was a
clear understanding by the parties concerned. In the case of small
children, the parents’ consent was required. One informant said she
was present when her dying mother arranged for the placing and
adoption of her children; she was old enough to remember the occa-
sion well:

Today, people have to arrange with the Agency [local U. S. Indian Service] if
they wish to adopt a child. It wasn’t that way some years ago. Before my
mother died, she selected the relatives with whom she wanted all of us children
to stay ; she might have selected friends or anyone else instead of relatives. All
of my mother’s people talked with my mother and they decided among them-
selves who would take each child; we were five. If my father had been of the
Chippewa Tribe, he would have had something to say and could have kept all
of us if he had thought he could care for us; but since he is a Winnebago, he was
not consulted. However, if mother had had no brothers nor sisters, my father
could then have taken us. [She mentioned the names of three widowed Chip-
pewa fathers on the reservation who were caring for their children.] But as

884216—51—_—_4

34 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 146

things turned out, my oldest sister was given to my grandmother, my mother’s
mother; my brother was given to one of my mother’s sisters; my two youngest
sisters, to another sister; and another aunt raised me. I was treated just like
the rest of my aunt’s family; there was no discrimination shown as to food or
work. At times, however, that is done; my brother was badly treated and the
old lady with whom he was living struck him with a poker so that it penetrated
‘his foot; she also hid bread from him. That is why he is now neglecting her.

An informant who had been willed a grandchild by her daughter
said: “When mothers are certain of dying, they will their children to
someone—to relatives, or to the missionary, or to someone; the husband
has nothing to say about it.” Another informant noted: “The grand-
mother, if she lived, always took the children after the mother’s death.”

A 50-year-old woman told of her plans to adopt a grandchild whose
parents were still living:

When my son’s wife goes to the hospital, he will bring their 2-year-old girl to
us to keep. My son himself will probably bring her, and she will stay here all
the time. And I am willing to take her! I can’t wait until she comes! My
husband plans on it too, and is more than anxious to rear her. He and I had
discussed taking her before her father ever spoke about it. That’s just the
way it happens that you find these children in Indian homes!

The following accounts describe the adoption of mature persons:

A family in Ponema [Red Lake Reservation] had a son who died; he was
about the age of my boy. Six years ago, the man and his wife came over here
[Red Lake] on a special trip to ask me if they could have my boy as their son.
I thanked them for asking me, I was certainly glad somebody thought so much
of my son as to adopt him. He spends much time with them now, and they
treat him as their son. Two years ago he stayed there all winter. No, there
is no jealousy on my part. I feel flattered!

A 50-year-old man at Reserve (Lac Courte Orielle Reservation),
the father of three children in their teens, related this experience:

An old couple in the village lost a son by death a year ago. Shortly after the
old lady met me on the road between their home and mine, and said, “I had a
son as big as you and I lost him, and now I'll adopt you as my son.” Both of
the old people call me their son; I remind them of their own son because I am so
large. I go up there once in a while to see if they are all right, and I get their
wood for them. They bring us something once in a while too—fish or bear meat,
usually. We really feel related now.

Warren, a native, relates that at intervals when the Sioux and the
Chippewa were not at war,

a Dakota chief or warrior taking a fancy to an Ojibway would exchange presents
with him, and adopt him asa brother. This the Ojibways would also do. These
adopted ties of relationship were most generally contracted by such as had lost
relations in the course of their feud, and who, in a manner, sought to fill the
void which death had made in the ranks of his dearest friends. [Warren, 1885,
pp. 268-269.]

A 12-year-old girl on the Red Lake Reservation whose mother had
died asked a woman with a family if she would adopt her as her own

Hiterr| CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 35

mother: “She looks on me now as though I were her mother, and I
treat her like a daughter. She comes over here and tells me things,
and I give her advice. I also give her things, like dresses.”

NAMING THE CHILD
" VARIOUS NAMES

Although a Chippewa had no family name, he might have several
surnames. Shortly after birth he was given his Indian name, the
name which he retained during life and which for him had a very real
significance because it had spiritual value; its origin lay in a dream.
If he was a crying child or an ailing one, he might be given several
additional dream names (cf. pp. 31-82).

Pet names were given to most small children, and as they grew older
they received a nickname also. These were usually humorous: they
might indicate a resemblance to some object or animal or be associated
with an event that occurred during the first day of life. “I heard a
little girl who was very spry called Grasshopper. Another was called
Little Twig until she was old enough to know that it was not her real
name.” ‘The first born of twins was called Oldest One; the latter born,
Small One or Younger One.

Children were not given names at puberty. Many, however, were
given American names when they first attended boarding schools, this
being true particularly of those whose Indian names were difficult to
remember or which, in translation, were long names compounded of
several words. Old eae who did ae ae school speak of their
American names as “my Agency name” or “my name at the Agency.”
In the schools and at the United States Indian Agencies, little, if any,
attention seems to have been given in assigning names to members of
the same family, for it is not uncommon to find several siblings each
having a different name and all names being different from that of the
father.

ORIGIN OF NAMES

All informants agreed that Chippewa Indian names had their
origin in dreams. They differed, however, as to the period in life
during which dreams had value in naming children. Some main-
tained only prepuberty dreams were significant; others told of names
that came to them in dreams of later life, even when quite old (cf. pp.
39-48). “Only dreams that we had when young and innocent counted
in giving names to children. Dreams a boy had once his voice began
to change were of no value.” “When I was still innocent, that is
before I menstruated for the first time, I dreamed of a rainbow several
times, and I have since named a child after it.” “Before persons think
of anything impure, that’s the time dreams count.” One informant, in

36 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buun. 146

her eighties, told of a child, less than a year old, whom she had named,
but “I never named it until it was three years old. What I should
call the child didn’t come to me before that time; I waited until I
dreamed a name for the child. After I dreamed it, I told the parents
who then gave a feast at which I named the child.” Jones speaks of
“a man in his youth and during a fast” who dreamed of the sky, for
instance, and, having occasion “to believe that the sky was the source
of his life and the cause of bountiful gifts,” later named a child in
accordance with the dream and thereby placed it under the same
being that had been benevolent to him (Jones, 1906, pp. 136-187).
Good dreams and one useful in naming children were those in which
birds, thunder, sun, lightning, persons, and all animals, except snakes
were involved. Bad dreams and ones to be forgotten were those
dealing with dogs, water, and snakes.

Pierz accounts in the following way for the origin of names among
the Chippewa and the Ottawa:

The name is usually taken from things of earth or air. The man shoots an
arrow into the air and notices what is found near the place at which it lands.
If this be an animal, insect, stone, grass, tree, or something else his child will be
named after it. Some have a habit of simply looking into the air and taking a
name from wind, weather, clouds, thunder, or lightning or whatever appeals to
them. That is why Indian children have names taken from nature, and never
carry their father’s name. No one may ever change the name. When it happens
-that the old fellow who is naming the child is not on good terms with the
mother it may happen that he gives the child a nasty nickname, such as snake
or turtle, bear paws or fox tongue, or wolf’s teeth.°

Pierz’? information was checked on the Lac Courte Orielle, La
Pointe, Red Lake, White Earth, and Mille Lacs Reservations, but the
writer was unable to verify it. Informants listened attentively to his
account and then uttered such remarks as these: “I never heard any-
one of our people tell that.” “That must have been the way with some
other tribe.” “We never heard of that before. No, we dreamed our
names.” It is possible that Father Pierz never heard the Chippewa
tell the true origin of their names, for several of the very old Indians
were quite reticent in speaking of it to the writer even today. One
remarked, “Long ago, Indians did not speak to each other of their
dreams. Now they tell everything; therefore, much is dying out.”
Gilfillan speaks of this reticence also:

One of the things about the Ojibways that seems strange to us is the mystical
importance attached to a name, and the concealment of names. No Ojibway man
or woman will tell his name, unless he has become very much Americanized. If
a name has to be given, say to be put in some document, and the man is asked his
name, he will not give it; but, after a long period of hesitation and embar-
rassment, he will indicate some other man who will tell his name. That man,
finally, after prolonged consideration, mentions it, and when it comes out, a

® Pierz, 1855, pp. 20-21 (writer’s unpublished translation).

Hincer] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 37

sensation lies over the assembly as if some great secret had been let out.
So in a store, if the name of the intending debtor be not known to the storekeeper,
and he has to know it to charge the goods, he asks, with a manner indicating
profound secrecy, some one else to tell him the man’s name, and it is given to
him in a whisper, as a great secret. Often I have asked a man his wife’s name,
and after a long hesitation he would confess that he had never heard it. On
questioning, he would admit that he had been married to her fifteen or twenty
years. ‘This secrecy is about their Ojibway name; about their English name, if
they have any, they have no such feeling.

The reason for this reticence, which seems so queer to us, is that by them
great importance is attached, as in the Old Testament, to a name; that the names
all mean something, as Abraham, father of a multitude, Isaac, laughter, Jacob,
supplanter, and that the name is given as a religious act. Soa father says to his
son, “My son, I give you this name; it has a spiritual signification; it is to you a
sacred thing; the spirits give it to you, if you make light of it, or mock it, or dis-
close it, I do not say that the Great Spirit will kill you, but you will have dis-
graced yourself.” Hence is the concealment of the names, the reverence with
which names are regarded. [Gilfillan, 1901, p. 111.]

The following are names of informants: Coming-over-the-hill (the
namer, a woman, repeatedly dreamed of cows coming up to her over a
hill) ; Morning or Dawn; One-that-can-walk; Ice-feathered-woman ;
Round-old-woman; One-that-can-climb (namesake dreamt of a bear
“and a bear is one that can climb”). William Jones mentions Flood-

of-light-pouring-from-the-sky (Jones, 1906, p. 187).
THE NAMESAKE

Parents usually selected the namesake (wadawa’sok) of their child;
occasionally an old person asked to name it or announced that he would
do so. The namer might be chosen on the day of birth or as soon as
the parents desired to have the child named. An unfailing ruie, how-
ever, was that he be an old person and one that had not been sickly
during his life, “the belief being that the child would then be healthy.”
A 53-year-old informant was not old enough to name a child, but was
old enough to be invited to the feast at which a child wasnamed. “My
son was 3 months old when he was named; he has only one Indian
name. He never needed another for he has always been a healthy
child.” ‘Hach one of my children was given its Indian name a few
days after baptism.” “When a child is born an old lady might say to
the parents, ‘Now, you give me that child for my namesake.’ Another
would say, ‘Let it be my namesake.’ Parents select one then and give
a feast at which the child is named.”

A retention of this old custom survives on the L’Anse Reservation
where many others no longer exist. An old Indian will announce
himself as the namer of a child, and will name it; but no feast is given.
A L’Anse interpreter related two instances: “When my sister was a
mere baby, a very old man from the neighborhood came into our
house and said, ‘I want the baby for anamesake.’ Mother didn’t know

38 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 146

what to think of it. He took a red ribbon from his pocket, pinned it
to the baby’s pillow, and started to smoke. ‘Your little girl’s name
is going to be Batawa’sigdkwé, meaning Two-clouds-and-a-sunshine-
between-the-clouds,’ he said. That’s how my sister got her name.
Another old man who was at a certain home where a child was born
asked the mother if he might have the child for a namesake. He
called her Boganégé’cikwé, which means A-hole-in-the-sky. After he
named her this he hit the ground with his cane as many times as the
years of his age, saying he wanted the child to live that long.”

The term “namesake” is reciprocated by the child and the namer. A
man might name a girl; a woman, a boy: there are no fixed rules as to
the sex of the namer (windawas’sOwinini—man namer; windawas’-
sokwé—woman namer). Nor was there a limited number of children
that any one person might name. No namer gave the same name
twice. “I have named about 20 children and all have different names.
I dreamed each name: dreamed them as I needed them,” said an
informant on the Vermilion Lake Reservation.

CEREMONTAL

The naming of the child was done at a feast (windawas’sowin) of
venison and wild rice prepared by the parents of the child—“a real
feast, a big feast of moose or deer!” Only invited guests attended.
The namer held the baby in his arms, talked to it about Kicé’ Man’ito
(Supreme Being), asked a blessing on the child, said that he wished
the child to become as old as he was, gave it its name, and then handed
it back to its mother.

At one such feast in 1930 the maternal granduncle (60 years of age),
the maternal grandmother (52), an old man, nonrelative (80), and a
maternal aunt (49) were the invited guests. The feast was given in
the maternal grandmother’s house. Oilcloth was placed on the floor
and on this, at each guest’s place, a small piece of plug tobacco. Amer-
ican food was served. The guests, after taking their places and smok-
ing, talked about God and their dreams, and expressed hopes that the
child would have long life. Then the namer, the 60-year-old grand-
uncle, took the baby girl in his arms, talked to it, and named it Hole-in-
the-ground. After this the baby was passed from one person to
another and finally handed back to the mother. “This namesake
feast,” the mother added, “took place right after they brought the baby
back from baptism.”

In 1935 a young Chippewa mother and her 13-month-old baby re-
turned to the reservation from Chicago for a visit. The 90-year-old
great-grandmother of the baby invited the wife of a medicine man
to name the baby. “Before they ate anything, this woman, holding
the.baby in her. arms, put a handful of tobacco in the stove,” remarked

HiLcrr]} CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 39

the young mother, “told her dream, and then named my baby, Hole-in-
the-sky. She didn’t give the baby any sermon; she simply told her
dream. Then we all sat down and ate; the baby sat at table too.”

A 21-year-old Mille Lacs mother and her husband gave a feast
at which their 2-month-old baby was named (1940). “We invited six
old persons from around here. I don’t like to give their names since
they might not like it; they consider this sacred and so do we.—I don’t
know why.—They all sat in a circle on the floor; a dish of tobacco was
in the center. After they all took some of this, I handed the baby to
the leader—you choose one person as leader—and I said, ‘I give you
this child as your namesake.’ He took the baby, kissed it, talked to it,
telling it to live long, gave it a name, and then passed it on to the
next one. ‘This one talked to it and passed it on and so on to the last
one, each one kissing it, and telling it to live long. Then my husband
and I served meat boiled with wild rice, cake, cookies, and coffee.”

Jenness, in recording the naming of the Chippewa, wrote: “A pleas-
ing ceremony accompanied the naming of each child; when the rela-
tives and friends had gathered for the feast, the grandfather (or
another elderly kinsman) took the child in his arms and called on all
the great powers in the spiritual world to impart their blessing to its
name” (Jenness, 1932, p. 280).

PREPUBERTY FASTS
AGE OF BOY AND GIRL

In primitive days most Chippewa boys and girls spent some days in
silent commune with the spirit world, abstaining from food and drink.
The number of days varied from 1 to 10; the length of the time as
well as the number of times of fasting depended on the age of the child
and on its endurance. Some children fasted for the first time before
they reached the age of reason, that is at 4 or 5 years of age, or “when
so high” (about 3 feet). Children of such early ages fasted but 1
day; those from 6 to 8 years old, 1 to 4 days; and those from 10 to
12 years old, from 4 to 10 days. A 10-day fast was usually rewarded
with supernatural or shamanistic powers. No particular child, how-
ever, was selected for a 10-day fast. The significant power that came
through fasting was impressed upon older children more than upon
younger ones, and, because of this, informants thought, certain chil-
dren made attempts to fast many successive days.

SELECTION OF FASTERS

Parents decided upon the time that the child was to fast. The time
chosen usually depended on the dream that the child related some
morning on rising, either of his own accord or upon request. The

40 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLz. 146

parent would not necessarily have done so but might have directed the
child when retiring the previous evening to dream and to remember its
dream. One old Red Lake informant, however, knew of fathers who
had dreamed that it was time to send a child to fast. “When a child
is about 5 years old and it tells its mother a dream which the mother
considers good, the mother takes charcoal, blackens the cheeks of the
child, and sends it out to fast, even without water, for 1 day.”
“After children reported a good dream, their faces were blackened
with charcoal before breakfast and they were not given anything to
eat until sundown.” “A mother might any morning call one of her
children—it didn’t make any difference which one—and ask it what it
had dreamt last night. If the dream was considered a good one, the
child’s face was blackened and it was made to fast.”

An informant on the Lac Courte Orielle Reservation gave the follow-
ing account:

Among the old pagans when a boy was 10 or 12 years old, his father said to
him, “Tonight I want you to remember your dream.” Next morning his father
would ask him whether he had had a‘dream. If he had not dreamed, his father
would tell him the next night to dream. When, finally, he had a dream which
satisfied the father, the father took charcoal from the fire, rubbed it between the
palms of his hands, then rubbed the face of the boy, blackening it, and saying
to the boy, “No breakfast this day.” He is going to make something out of the
boy through his dreams. He may abstain from food, though not from water,
for 5 to 10 days. I have known boys to fast until they could scarcely stand.
Later in life they may exercise their dream power by finding something which
is lost. One might dream one night, and the next day find the lost article. If
a man’s dream comes true, he is a person of importance among his people; if he
lies, he is nothing. [Hilger, 1936 ¢, p. 34.]

SIGNIFICANT DREAMS

On the Lac du Flambeau Reservation significant dreams were “those
related to the thunderbird or to any bird; to the sun, thunder, light-
ning, in fact to anything in nature; to persons and all animals, except
snakes.” On the Lac Courte Orielle Reservation dreaming of dogs
or water predicted ill: “It was an indication of a short life; these
dreams were to be forgotten at once.” A L’Anse woman was told
by her mother “never to dream of black horses, for such a dream
would be followed by a death in the family; dreaming of a white
horse brought good luck. Dreaming of clear water was a good sign;
muddy waters brought heartaches.” On the Mille Lacs Reservation
dreaming of water or of anything in the water was a bad dream; it
indicated that a child would die.

MANNER OF FASTING

Aiter a parent had decided that the child had had a good dream, he
took charcoal from the fireplace—or in more recent times soot from

HILGER] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 41

the bottom of a kettle or a pot—blackened the palms of his hands, and
then rubbed the child’s cheeks, leaving them well blackened but with-
out decorative design. Older children blackened their own faces in
the same manner and without design.

Small children—4, 5, or 6 years old—after having had their faces
blackened were merely sent out into the woods to spend the day
there. “In the early days both boys and girls were sent out alone
to wander around in the woods. Each one was sent alone; never were
two sent together. Here the spirits were to talk to them, and they
to the spirits.” “Children were usually sent out in the spring or fall.
While wandering around they would probably see someone in the
woods, someone like manito, for example. They might see things,
too, in the shape of trees, etc., these things being spirits would have
pity on them and give them more power or longer life. This is done
before the girl becomes a woman or the boy aman. The person must
still be a child.”

Fasting, if done for only 1 day, consisted of abstinence from food
and drink from sunrise to sundown.

They waited, in those old days, for the sun to peep up—the sun had to be
looking at us when we got our faces blackened. And just as the sun went down
we had our faces washed—the sun was supposed to see us get washed. I fasted
one day when I was about 5 years old: I got no bread nor water nor any

food all day. Those who fasted more than 1 day were usually permitted to
drink, but not to eat.

As children grew older, greater significance was attached to fasting.
The number of days was increased so that many children, especially
boys, spent 4 or more days without food, consequently sleeping and
dreaming. A child that did not return after 4 days of fasting was
thought to be receiving extraordinary powers—that he was being
given the “power” to be a medicine man or medicine woman. “Such
a child was learning how to cure certain diseases and how to combine
certain herbs for certain medicines, etc.” ‘Some received such power-
ful ‘medicine’ that they could pull someone’s mouth to one side, cripple
him, make him crazy, or even cause him to die.” ?°

Hoffman in his study of the Grand Medicine Society of the Ojibway
makes the following statement:

The first important event in the life of an Ojibway youth is his first fast.
For this purpose he will leave his home for some secluded spot in the forest
where he will continue to fast for an indefinite number of days; when reduced
by abstinence from food he enters a hysterical or ecstatic state in which he
may have visions and hallucinations. The spirits which the Ojibway most
desire to see in these dreams are those of mammals and birds, though any
object, whether animate or inanimate, is considered a good omen. The object
which first appears is adopted as the personal mystery, guardian spirit, or

10 Cf. “Grand Medicine,” pp. 71—75 ; ‘“‘Tipi shaking,” pp. 75-78.

42 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLu. 146

tutelary daimon of the entranced, and is never mentioned by him without first —
making a sacrifice. A small effigy of this man’idd is made, or its outline drawn
upon a small piece of birchbark, which is carried suspended by a string around
the neck, or if the wearer be a Midé’ he carries it in his “medicine bag” or
pinjigosan. The future course of life of the faster is governed by his dream;
and it sometimes occurs that because of giving an imaginary importance to the
occurrence, such as beholding, during the trance some powerful man’idd or
other object held in great reverence by the members of the Midé’ Society, the
faster first becomes impressed with the idea of becoming a Midé’. [Hoffman,
1891, p. 163.]

“One old man here told how he fasted 10 days in the woods by
himself. His only sustenance was water that had collected in the
pitcher plant. Fasters were not allowed to dip water out of lakes
for drinking.” Of children who fasted several days, boys were sub-
jected to more rigorous fasts than girls. “I have known boys to
fast until they could hardly stand on their legs.” Informants had
not heard of any one dying from fasting, “although some had fasted
for 10 days and were hardly able to walk after that.” All boys were
expected to fast; those who did.not were considered cowards.

Boys usually fasted and slept in trees, on platforms or in “nests”
(wadisswa’ni giikgi’cim6—he fasted in a tree). Each boy built his
own in the tree of his choice; but birch, white oak, or hardwood trees
of any kind were favorites. “Nests” described by informants, who
had either fasted in them or who had seen them, were of two kinds.
The platform type was built by resting poles—trunks of saplings—
on the limbs of a tree and covering these with straw. “We slept up
there and fasted without food and water, fasting and dreaming in
order to get a helper.” A “nest,” or basketlike type (wa’dissan—
bird’s nest), was built of twigs, lined with hay, and attached to the
lowest strong limbs of a tree. “Each was really a nest of twigs and
hay, deep enough so the boy could lie down or sit up in it. These
nests were always built in a lonely place.” “In the fall after all the
leaves had fallen, one could see nests here and there all through the
wilderness; they were up where the strong limbs began.”

Nearly all girls fasted, but few fasted longer than 4 days. Those
who wished to obtain the powers of medicine women fasted 10 days.
One woman had fasted 6 days at 10 years of age. On the first day
she abstained from water and ate only a small piece of bread; on the
remaining 5 days, she partook of a small piece of bread and a sip of
water. “I was hungry but I didn’t mind it very much, for I slept
nearly all the time,” she added.

It was not customary for girls to fast in trees: they fasted walking
about the woods. “I was sent out to fast one time early in the spring
to a dry place where there was no snow.” An old Red Lake inform-
ant, however, said she had tried to fast in a tree after hearing her
grandmother tell the following story:

HILGrR] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 43

When you look across the lake (Red Lake) you see a big hill on the sand
bar near Ponema. At one time four girls built four nests for fasting over
there—each built one for herself. They were very close to each other in one
tree. The girls were up there and some one began to throw stones at them. So
the girls whispered to each other asking if the stones were hitting any of them.
Three didn’t know what it was; the fourth knew and said, “Some men are
throwing stones at us.” So the third one wanted to know who these men were,
and the fourth one said, “We'll see them,” and sure enough, a boat came with
four men in it. It was hard to see them at a distance. But soon they sounded
like doors slamming. And these were water gods, like mermaids. That hap-
pened long ago.

“After hearing this,” the informant added, “I tried once to fast
in a tree, but my mother wouldn’t let me do it.”

Fasting in most cases was done before puberty. Most informants
were emphatic in saying that girls, after their first menstruation, and
boys, after their voices began to change, were no longer eligible for
fasting. “They are impure after that.” “No, the old people (‘old
men’ and ‘old women’ were those past puberty) never fasted. After
puberty they couldn’t fast; it was considered a disgrace to fast then.”
“Before persons think of anything impure, that’s the time that fasts
and dreams count.” “Only girls who are pure and innocent—that is
before first menstruation—have dreams for powers.” “This is done
before the girl becomes a woman and the boy a man; the person must
be a child still. Their dreams are of no significance once they are
old enough to beget children.” “I fasted twice a year while I was
a child, from the time I was 6 or 7 years old: once in the fall before
the snow began to fall and once in the spring when the birds began
to come.” “No man fasted after his voice began to change; he was
considered impure after that. No woman fasted after her first men-
strual isolation for she was considered impure from that time on.
No one with sense would have attempted to fast after that; everybody
would have laughed at him.” On the Mille Lacs Reservation, how-
ever, a girl who was being subjected to her puberty isolation and fast
might have a dream in which supernatural power was granted.

When a faster—boy or girl—returned home, the mother or, if she
were dead, the grandmother or aunts prepared a feast and invited
friends. The faster was advised to eat slowly and not to satiety. His
food was served in a birchbark dish (pl. 24, 2), which was later
hung upon a small twig on the lower trunk of a tree near the home.
“The tree near one house was loaded with these little dishes, indicating
that there had been many days of fasting in that family.” “My
grandmother told of a boy who, on the tenth day of his fast, told
his father—his father had come each day to see if he was all right—
that he was coming home and that his mother should prepare the
feast.” At the feast both faster and guests told their dreams.

44 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLu. 146
PURPOSE OF FASTING

Parents obliged their children to fast because they were desirous
of having them contact the spiritual world and obtain a medium in
it in the form of a guardian spirit. “You call him guardian spirit;
we call him the spirit of a vision or 6bawagé’kgon. We use the same
word for a girl’s helper as for a boy’s.” Fasts in very early childhood
were less significant in this regard than the ones that were prolonged
enough to produce sleep and consequent dreams. It was during
dreams, or in visions during the waking hours of a prolonged fast,
that the guardian spirit, the helper for all times, communicated with
the faster. Giikkwi’cimdd is the word used to describe the fast no
matter how old the child, how prolonged the fast, or how significant,
shamanistically, the results. Occasionally, a faster was not favored
with a dream or vision. When this occurred he could receive power
only by joining the Midé’wiwin (cf. pp. 63-71). “I never dreamed
of a guardian spirit although I fasted 6 successive days on one occa-
sion,” remarked a Lac Courte Orielle woman.

The guardian spirit usually took the form of a person, an animal,
an inanimate object, or an activity of nature. His prerogatives were
to give advice, knowledge, and power to the faster. Powers received
were of various kinds, such as producing rain or winds, bringing suc-
cess in war, discovering healing properties of plant life, predicting
future events, or finding causes for past events. “Sometimes children
fasted 10 days. If children did this and grew up they became power-
ful. It was during the dreams they had while fasting that people
received their guardian spirits and the powers they used in later life.
Today, for instance, if a storm comes up and a person with power re-
lated to the storms talks to it, the storm will subside. Or should a
person be walking around without a home and have nothing to eat
and will talk to the sun or stars or whatever he dreamed of as a child,
he will receive what he needs. It is said that old Indians always had
clouds or the sun or moon or stars but not any animals as their power.”
“A certain boy went-out to fast. On the eighth day he heard someone
singing. Soon he uncovered his face and looked out and saw a flock
of geese that now sounded like men speaking.—The boy had not had
anything to eat nor drink for these eight days.—The head one—there
is always a head goose—spoke to the boy telling him never to have fear
in any war and should he be in danger in any war to think of this
flock of geese and he would always come out unhurt.” “The old In-
dians believed that thunder and lightning were caused by thunder-
birds. The ones who had dreamt of these birds when fasting while
they were still innocent had power to stop storms. Here is what they
would do: When a storm arose they went out-of-doors, motioned with
their hands for the storm to move away, saying, ‘Go slowly; go around;

Hinenr]} CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 45

go away!’” “One time the Ottawa and Chippewa from Marquette
and La Pointe [Wisconsin] joined our bands here and all met the
Sioux at Portage Lake—We were at war with the Sioux then.—The
sun was going down just when our side began to win. One of our
men who had power over the sun asked it to continue shining. The
sun stayed right in the sky and the war was won!” “My husband’s
mother’s helper was thunder. She used to make us very angry during
blueberry-picking time for she would talk to her helper, light her
pipe and smoke it, and cause thunderstorms. And all that while
we were all right out there in the blueberry patch!”

Tanner tells of hunting trip which he made with some Objibway.
He quotes an old man in the group as saying:

When I was yet a little boy, the Great Spirit came to me, after I had been
fasting for 3 days, and told me he had heard me crying, and had come to tell me
that he did not wish to hear me cry and complain so often, but that if ever I
was reduced to the danger of immediately perishing of hunger, then I should
call upon him, and he would hear and give me something. I have never called
before, but last night I spent in prayer and singing, and I have assurance that I
shall this day be fed by the bounty of the Great God. I have never asked
before, and I know that he will not forget his promise.”

Tanner continues:

We all started at the same time in the morning, but went to hunt in different
directions. I hunted all day without finding anything, and so weak was I, that
I could traverse but a very small extent of ground. It was late when I came in;
the two young men were in before me; all began to despair ; but old Gitch-e-weesh
was still absent. At a very late hour he arrived, bending under a heavy load of
meat. [Tanner, 18380, p. 154.]

After a successful fast, the faster invariably carried with him, usu-
ally tucked in a small buckskin bag or wrapped in a piece of cloth, some
token of esteem that would either resemble his, guardian or be a re-
minder of him. The contents might be a feather, a claw, a piece of
cloth, or a bird’s head. The contents plus the wrapping were spoken
of as “medicine bundles” (picégd’san), “medicine” indicating magic
power, and were held in great reverence. “It was at the time that a
boy slept in a tree and thought of manito that he received the power
that he kept in his ‘medicine bundle.’ If such a boy grew up to be a
man and did not have good luck when hunting, for instance, he re-
turned home, gave a feast at which he opened the bundle and prayed
for success and success would be his.” “My grandfather fasted ten
days and received a wolf as guardian spirit. In his dream he saw a
man coming along with fresh deer meat on his back. The man
dropped the meat and said, “This is what I give you!’ and then ran
away in the form of a wolf. That is why my grandfather always fas-
tened the tail of a wolf to the side of his belt when he went hunting.”
“Supposing a robin would be a boy’s dream object—a ribbon had been

46 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 146

the person who spoke to the boy when he dreamed or had a vision—
well, then, every robin living would be sacred to that boy for he de-
pended on the robin for help and advice. And that boy would always
carry with him some part of a robin, probably some feathers.”

In Old Indian Village on the Lac du Flambeau Reservation a piece
of cloth with a thunderbird painted on it had been placed in a small
wooden frame and attached to the top of a pole twice the height of the
house near which it was erected. The thunderbird represented the
dream power which one of the parents had received while fasting when
about 5 or 6 years old. Small pieces of clothing of each member of
the family were hanging near the picture. ‘“A piece of tobacco, about
one inch square, must also be tied on up there near the picture,” said
the interpreter, peering to see it. Similar poles were seen in several
places on the reservation and were erected to protect homes nearby.

Beltrami tells of a hunting expedition in 1823 in company with the
Ojibway at Red Lake:

We searched for the animal I had fired at, which it seems retained strength
sufficient to drag itself to a few paces distance among the brushwood, to which
traces of blood had guided us; it proved to be a wolf. My companion refused to
strip the animal of its skin, a superb one, viewing it at the same time with an
air of respect, and murmuring within himself some words, the meaning of which
will probably surprise you. In fact, the wolf was his Manitou. He expressed
to it the sincerity of his regret for what had happened, and informed it that he
was not the person who had destroyed it. [Beltrami, 1828, vol. 2, pp. 390-391.]

A Red Lake informant told the following in the presence of two
persons who collaborated :

A young fellow, probably 20 years old now, a ’Cross Laker [resident of Pone-
mah] about 6 years ago [1926] dreamed for power. He climbed up a tree and.
sat in it for 4 days and 4 nights without anything to eat. Since then he claims
to have a special knowledge. One day when payments [U. S. annuities] were
made, a woman, who held her baby in one arm and many bundles in the other,
found upon arriving home that her 90-dollar payment had been taken from her.
(All this happened ’Cross Lake.) Her old man went to the dreamer and asked
him if he knew who took it. The fellow went away and sang and pounded a
small drum, and when he returned he told the man that a certain woman (naming
her) had the money and had not yet used any of it. “Go to her and tell her that
she has your money and that you want it.” He went to the woman and in a
gracious manner said to her, “You must have taken my wife’s money by mistake.”
She admitted that she had the money and handed it right over to him and said
she had not spent any of it. Not long ago that same dreamer came across the
lake with some young men. These fellows thought they’d try him out and bet
with him that he didn’t know who the first Indian would be whom they would
meet at Redby. He remarked that he did (naming the man), and sure enough
it was he. He is the only one ’Cross Lake or in this vicinity who can do that.
This young man often goes to the Point and stays there for days. He doesn’t
eat, and no one knows what he does there. My neighbor’s youngest brother went
to dream for power, some 20 years ago. There was an old man near here, too,
who had the same power; but he died last winter.

HILGHR] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 47
PERSONAL ACCOUNTS OF DREAMS

Some informants were quite willing to relate details regarding inci-
dents of their guardian-spirit dream, but they were reticent to tell the
dream itself. There were several reasons for this. Relating the
dream was like communing with the helper, and this is not done except
in case of necessity, and then only after ceremonial smoking and sing-
ing and, at times, fasting. No “necessity” seemed involved in merely
satisfying the request of a visitor. A Red Lake informant preferred
not to tell of her helper, “for I’m afraid he won’t help me any more if
I tell my dream and talk about him when there is no need of doing so.”

Another reason for reticence was possibly that the informant feared
that relating his dream would produce some visible effects, something
he did not desire. Several of the oldest informants had never told
their dreams to any person. A member of the Midé’wiwin of the Lac
Courte Orielle Reservation considered his helper so sacred that he
“couldn’t really talk lightly about him”; his dream was too sacred to
be told. The interpreter, his daughter-in-law, explained that “while
he would be telling it to us and smoking his pipe, it would be thunder-
ing: that is if his helper is the thunder. If he would do this unneces-
sarily, something would go wrong. Lighting a pipe is the same as
praying, for when he lights his pipe he asks his helper to help him.”

Some were unwilling to tell their dreams because they might reveal
secret information involving medicinally valuable herbs and roots,
unusual powers for finding objects, or powers of revenge. These
powers were “copyrighted” and sold (by being told) only upon the
payment of a good price in cloth, hunting implements, etc. One old
informant said: “Long ago Indians did not even tell each other their
dreams; now they tell everyone. Therefore, much is dying out.”

One aged Lac Courte Orielle woman remarked : “That’s a great thing
they want to know!” And then lapsed into silence. After some
moments she remarked, “It’s too great a thing to tell them my own
dream. My old man’s was about thunder, and he used it too.” One
of the oldest women on the same reservation, however, related the
following two dreams:

I fasted when I was about 5 years old; men fasted long, but women did not.
I dreamt about a big house. I saw green stairs leading to the sky and when I
looked again they seemed to be of green velvet. While I was still looking, I saw
four women in veils coming down to meet me; they told me to follow them. My
hair too seemed all white like a veil. I followed them a short distance up the
stairs. Here they sang a song which I did not recognize. One woman told me
that I might go no farther on the stairway, and by this she meant that I had
lived a part of my life and that I still had a part to live. When I told my mother
this dream, she blackened my cheeks, and I fasted one day. It was too cold

to go out-of-doors, so I stayed around the house. I was not allowed any bread
or water all day. Of the dreams I had when I was six years old I remember

48 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLy. 146

only one. I dreamed that same dream several times at intervals when I was
small, and I have used it several times. Only those dreams count that persons
have before they think of anything impure; that’s the time the dreams count.
Well, I used to dream that I was swinging in a swing to Shogytown. Someone
called from the sky telling me that what was below was mine: “Why don’t you
take it?” When I looked down I saw a deer which I took with me. And that
was my dream; and it was a good one. One time my two sons brought a Sioux
along and the three went out with my old man deer hunting. They were gone for
a long time and came back without anything. So I told them of my deer dream.
One of my sons laughed at me but the other didn’t. Then they went out hunting
again. The son that didn’t laugh came back with two big deer; the other had
none.

The following account of a Red Lake woman includes a dream and
several preliminary factors:

I, too, fasted, but only for one day at a time. I tried once to fast in a tree
but my mother made me come down and wouldn’t let me do it; she said it was
too hard for girls to do that. But one day I fasted; I was about so high [3 feet].
I knew of a girl who had fasted, and so I wanted to fast too. I asked my father
if I might. He told me I was too young; I’d get hungry. But I insisted, and so
he let me try it. I blackened my face and went into the woods. When girls
fasted they had to work all day and were not to sit down; even when girls
fasted in nests they had to do some work. So when my father found out that I
was really going to fast, he went hunting and said he’d bring something for me
to eat by supper time. By noon I got lonesome and was thirsty and felt uneasy—
I had been out in the woods all forenoon—and so I came home, But my mother
said, “You wanted to fast; so now go out and fast for today.” This was my
first fast. My father killed two moose that day and he brought home only the
best meat. They made a feast for me and invited old people—not any young
people. I wasn’t served with a plate like the rest ; my food was put in a birchbark
dish. I asked for a second helping, but I was refused because I had fasted.
After I had finished my meal, they made me take my dish and hang it on the
limb of a tree so the opening faced the sun. Indians believed the sun would
smile on this. After this I fasted twice a year for a day; once in spring when
the birds began to come and once in the fall before the snow began to fall. I quit
fasting after my first menstruation. The Indians fasted in order to learn some-
thing for themselves just like white men study to learn things.

In response to the question what things she had learned by fasting, she
told the following story, assuming a quiet and reverent attitude—there
had been much gesticulating at other times.

At one of my fastings I saw some animal in the clouds. It appeared to be
floating in the clouds and it was coming toward me. And this animal showed
me his long hair, holding it away from his body. Since then I have always
had a sacred feeling toward this little animal. And that little animal was a
porcupine. When I was a young woman I could take my hair in my hands and
hold it out the length of my arms and even then it hung about a foot beyond
my hands; it was so long.—The old Indians on the reservation can tell you about
my long hair.—The old Indians told me that my hair would be as you see it today,
a mixture of white and black like the back of a porcupine, Yes, the porcupine
formerly granted me favors; they were like the favors I now get from God.
Whenever I wanted a favor, or was in need, not knowing where to look for help,
I just thought of him and wished that he’d help me. I thought of him the same
as I now think of God. My chums fasted too.

HILGHR] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 49

PUBERTY CUSTOMS
BOY’S PUBERTY CUSTOM

Densmore follows her account of a girl’s puberty custom with the
following statement regarding a boy’s:

At about the same age a boy was required to undergo a fast in which he hoped
and expected to obtain a dream or vision. The father taught the boy to prepare
for this and insisted that he persevere until he secured the dream. The boy
blackened his face with charcoal and usually went away from home for his fast.
Sometimes the father took the boy a considerable distance and made a nest for
him in a tree. - He left the boy there several days, going occasionally “to see if
he was all right.” It was not unusual for a boy to make several attempts before
he secured a dream, but complete failures were very rare. [Densmore, 1929,
p. 71.]

Jenness notes that among the Parry Islanders an adolescent boy
“fasted and prayed in solitude to gain the protection of some super-
natural power throughout the rest of his days” (Jenness, 1935, p. 96).

Landes not only records puberty fasts for boys of the Ojibway of
western Ontario, but notes that every few years the parents of all
pubescent boys in the village decided to send the boys out to fast.
Boys did not fast alone but were near enough to each other to be able
to talk together (Landes, 1938 b, p. 4). %

Chippewa informants who contributed to this work were agreed
that there was no puberty custom for boys." Some said that a boy
was considered to be an “old man” as soon as his voice began to change,
and “it was a disgrace to go out to fast then.” Others said that boys
could fast at any time; that some fasted for power even at 20 years
of age. An old Mille Lacs informant was certain that no more than
two boys ever fasted together :

’

Boys fasted alone for 10 days, drinking only a birchbark dish of water a
day (one-half cupful). When boys fasted they learned in their dreams how to
become warriors, aS was necessary for fighting the Sioux, or how their lives
would turn out, or whether they would die soon or live long. The father
decided when the boy should go; never did all the men get together and decide
when their sons should go. The boys were sent about the time their voices
were expected to change, and they stayed 10 days. Usually two boys went
together—never three or four—and these were generally related, like cousins,
or were good friends. Many liked it best to go out alone. In one of the
trees on a big hill on Murray Beach near here there was a big nest for many
years in which a boy fasted. That man is still living. He built the nest him-
self. The nest was still there 25 years ago. Nothing was done for a boy when
his voice changed except that he had to learn to do a man’s work in earnest:
all the things that he should know before he married.

1 Cf. also Kohl, (1859, pp. 233-242) for account of old Chippewa man’s fast when
the man was a “half-grown lad.”

884216—51 5

50 BUREAU OF AMERICAN BTHNOLOGY [BuLtL. 146
GIRL’S PUBERTY RITE

Although well-defined customs ushered a girl into her maturity, few
girls received any instructions regarding the occurrence or the signifi-
cance of menstruation before it occurred. “I was taking care of some-
one’s children when I was that way the first time. It was in the fall
at the time when people were fishing for whitefish. I ran away into
the woods. My grandmother found me and explained things to me.
Nobody had told me before then.” “I began to be that way while I
was away at school. I was dreadfully scared and ran home and hid.
When my mother found me, she explained my condition to me and
built a wigwam for me.” An interpreter was certain that “girls today
were bad because mothers gave them full instructions about all these
things.” Several informants were convinced “that girls learnt too
much in the American schools: there they learn everything long before
they should know it!” Puberty of informants or their daughters had
occurred between the ages of 12 and 15 years. Mothers worried about
their daughters when menses had not occurred at the age of 15.

A girl during her first menstruation was isolated continuously
both days and nights in a small wigwam called bakanéd’jé (a tent
made by herself). Some informants had been so isolated for 4 or 5
days; others for as many as 10. “But some mothers were afraid to
leave their daughters alone in the woods, they brought them home
before the ten days were up.” A girl living in her menstrual wigwam
is called bakané’ga (living by herself); the period of isolation, is
called makwa’ or mékwa’wé (turning into a bear; the bear lives alone
all winter).

The wigwam, usually located several rods from the home wigwam,
was built either by the girl alone, by her mother, or by the girl with
the assistance of her mother or grandmother. Wigwams varied in
type, but were never larger in size than to permit the girl to stand
or to lie down. If isolation occurred in summer when cooking was
done out-of-doors, the wigwam was dome-shaped but if it was being
used in cold weather when indoor fire was a necessity, it was more or
less peaked and open roofed, so as to emit smoke. The framework
consisted of saplings; the coverings were of either branches or twigs
and of birchbark, or, if cold weather required a warmer shelter, of
hides or cloth. One informant’s wigwam was covered with mosquito
netting “for that was all that was needed; it was about this time of the
year (early June).” The floor of the wigwam was either partially
or entirely covered with cedar boughs. “My mother built a little
birchbark wigwam for me high enough so I could stand up. I was
that way the first time when I was 12 years old.” “Formerly they
built a little wigwam for such a girl, a real small one just big enough
so a girl could lie down or stand up in it.”

Hiner} CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 51

The girl was prepared for entering the wigwam by having either
cheeks alone or cheeks and forehead blackened with charcoal or soot
that had been rubbed between the palms of hands. No design was
made; palms of hands were merely rubbed on cheeks in circular
fashion, movements being ear-chin-nose-temple-wise. “I used to see
young girls that I had played with blacken their faces and live alone
and everybody shunning them. I wondered why they were doing this.
Everybody seemed to be afraid of these girls, too.”

The girl’s hair was either tied back or completely covered with buck-
skin or cloth. While in isolation her mother combed it; if the girl
touched her hair, she ran the risk of having it fall out. In fact, she
was not allowed to touch herself in any way. If she wished to relieve
an itching feeling, she was to use a little stick which had been given
to her for that purpose. Neither face nor hands were washed until
she left isolation.

The mother of a very old Red Lake informant had prepared a sub-
stantial meal for her daughter as soon as she was aware of her condi-
tion. Since the girl was not allowed to touch food herself, she was
fed by her mother. After the meal, the wigwam was built. “Yes,
that’s exactly the way it was done. My sister was treated the same
way. We know, for we went through it ourselves.”

While in isolation the girl was required to cook her own fond and to
use none but her own dishes. In some groups the custom of using and
caring for separate dishes continued during the entire first year fol-
lowing puberty, the year being completed when the season presented
the same appearance as at first menses. In years intervening between
puberty and marriage, girls were required to use and wash their own
dishes only during menses. Food was brought to the girl at sundown.
“Tn the evening my mother brought me rice antl water; during the rest
of the day, I had nothing to eat.”” Densmore’s informants said in the
old days the girl “was allowed absolutely no food during this period,”
but that in later days “an older sister or other relative brought a little
food to the girl” (Densmore, 1929, p. 70). Under no circumstances
was food in season, however, to be given to such a girl. “When I
was that way, they were fishing. My mother brought me my food,
but they wouldn’t think of giving me any fish then for that was the
time for getting them. If they had given me fish, all the tribe would
have had bad luck fishing. Ifa girl happened to be that way for the
first time in the spring, say at sugar-making time, and her people had
given her sugar to eat, there would have been no sugar worth while that
season. Or if they had been picking berries or other fruit and given
her some, the rest of the berries would have withered; and possibly

“The above is in agreement with the findings of Densmore (1929, p. 70). Cf. also
Flannery (1940, p. 12).

a BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLn. 146

there would have been few or none the next season.” “Such girls were
given dried meat, dried fruit and wild rice. Years ago the Indians
saw to it that they had all these prepared if they had girls of that age;
they kept them on hand then.”

If a girl at puberty touched plants, it withered them; if she went
into lakes or rivers, “she was liable to kill the fish, or at Meat all fish
would go away from there.” By looking at a person, touching a child,
or crossing the path of any person, she paralyzed that person. In
fact during the entire year following first menses, she was not to
touch babies, or clothes of her father, or brothers, or of any man, for
it would cripple them.

Idleness during isolation was taboo. The girl was required to sew
or do beadwork. “You couldn’t do much else; the space was too
small.” Time spent out-of-doors was devoted to gathering and chop-
ping wood. One informant under the direction of her mother mended
birchbark cups used in gathering maple sugar (pl. 24, 2) by plug-
ging cracks in the bark with pitch heated in a little pan over a small
fire in her wigwam. Mothers also instructed their girls at this time
how to lead both good and useful lives. They were taught “that now
they were ‘old women’ and must learn to do the work expected of
women, such as chopping wood, sewing buckskin, building wigwams;
in fact, everything a woman had to do later.”

After isolation, the girl bathed herself and washed her clothes. In
the meantime her mother prepared a meal of the father’s hunting to
which old women were invited. When all was ready, the girl walked
from the small wigwam to the home wigwam on a path of cedar boughs
cr of bark of some tree. This was done to keep the girl from stepping
on the ground, thus making it impossible for a man to walk the same
path later or to walk across her path, thereby paralyzing himself.
There was no purification or fumigation ceremony, such as standing
over hot coals covered with herbs.

After the feast the girl was free to mingle with the people, but
she was not yet permitted to participate in gathering and preparing
food in season. Customs differed as to the manner of removing this
taboo. On the Lac Courte Orielle Reservation the girl was freed if
someone fed a small portion of it to her. If she handled any of it
before that time, she ruined the growth of that particular kind.
“Something happened to it: either the birds or worms got it or hail
or drought destroyed it; or if animals were involved, they died out.
People have firm faith in this around here today and ascribe the
droughts of the past year to it.” Another informant on the same
reservation said that it was customary for people to gather at a feast
and partake of the food they were then gathering. This might be
fresh berries in berrying time, maple sugar in maple-sugar-making

HiLcer] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE En

time, or fish, if it were fishing time. After the people had eaten,
some of the food in season was handed to the girl. After eating it
she was permitted to participate in whatever seasonal occupation the
people were then engaged in.

A %5-year-old Vermilion informant described the removal of the
taboo as follows: “Before picking any fruit or berries, or doing what-
ever the Indians were then doing, an old man made a speech. After
this the girl gathered a small quantity of whatever was being gathered
then (if berries, about 2 quarts), ate some charcoal, and after that,
some fruit or berries, or whatever they were gathering. If she didn’t
carry out this custom she spoilt whatever the people were doing at the
time.” A 32-year-old interpreter on the same reservation said that
in her day a girl was not allowed to pick strawberries, raspberries,
blueberries, or any fruit until she had eaten one mouthful of them
mixed with charcoal. After this a feast was given for her. “I know
it, for when I was that way for the first time, I was not allowed to
go any place; I had to sit around and sew. But they needed me for
blueberry picking; so they had me eat blueberries and charcoal, and
gave a feast of blueberries. After that I was permitted to pick ber-
ries but I was not supposed to look at anything else.”

During the years of this study puberty customs for girls were found
in some modified form on all reservations covered in the study, except
L’Anse. In some instances girls were isolated by being kept upstairs;
in others, they were made to stay by themselves “around the house and
were not allowed to look at anyone or to touch anything.” Many
were obliged to eat off dishes reserved exclusively for them, washing
them as well. Many were told not to eat foods in season such as
berries, fish, etc. until they had been served to them by someone else.
Two puberty wigwams were seen near homes in which grandmothers
were rearing grandchildren. Informants and interpreters had seen
others in recent times but thought that they had been burnt, since
the old custom required that the wigwam and all things used in con-
nection with isolation, such as cedar boughs, scratching stick, dishes,
etc. be burnt.

After puberty a girl was never allowed out of sight of her mother,
or of some older woman designated by the mother. “This was usually
the grandmother, since grandmothers advised girls and watched over
them like mothers did.” Nor were girls allowed to sleep away from
home, “like in the home of a neighbor.” An aged Red Lake informant
after lamenting the present lack of morals among her people re-
marked, “I was never allowed to go out alone after I was that way
the first time. That was the custom. And that’s why in old days no
girl had a baby unless she was married ; now every little girl has one.
All has changed since the Whites have come. In old days a girl never

54 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLt. 146

went away without her mother or some older woman. I had a chum.
One day we two went out to pick berries with our mothers. My
chum asked me to come to her house and sleep with her that night.
I asked my mother, and she said, ‘No!! You have a place to sleep at
home.’ In those days parents were obeyed; things are different now.
Mothers are different now, too.”

Isolation during menstruations following puberty was not required.
Freedom, however, was restricted: girls were “to stay around alone”
and not mingle with others. Until married—on the Mille Lacs Reser-
vation, even after marriage—they were expected to use dishes re-
served for them and were not to touch food that was to be eaten by
others. “The dishes were tied together after her days were over,
and laid aside until the next period.” They were not to touch or
step over clothing since it might paralyze the owner.

A Red Lake informant gave the following account typical of many
others:

My mother had sent me to get a knife and I noticed that there was something
wrong with me; soI ran away. I was so scared. I stayed away until towards
evening and when I came back my mother asked me what was wrong. I told
her and she told me it was about time, for I was old enough. ‘You are now a
‘big woman’ (kitcikwé’, meaning both big woman and first menstruation). You
cannot go into our wigwam for it will make it bad for your brothers and sisters.”
I believe she knew all that day what was wrong with me for while I hid in the
woods, she had built a little wigwam of balsam boughs forme. The floor and my
bed she had covered with cedar boughs. My grandmother spent most of her
time with me while I was in the little wigwam; she even slept with me. How-
ever, girls were not afraid to stay alone, for no one would come near them then;
men were afraid of girls during that time. (I remember this occasion well, for
many of our people were dying of smallpox at the time.) I stayed in my little
hut for 5 days and nights. They brought me food from the regular meals: mostly
bread and potatoes baked out-of-doors. They would not let me touch their dishes
for that would have made them all sick. Nor was I allowed to step over anything.
The Indians consider this an important event. They made me work, too; I had
to cut wood. After 5 days they brought me clean clothes, and burnt the small
wigwam and everything I had used. It was sugar-making time; but before they
gave me any sugar to eat, I had to eat charcoal, about the size of a pea, taken
from among the coals.

A Mille Lacs informant, older than 90 years, related the following:

When I knew I was that way, I put charcoal on my face and went into the
little wigwam that my mother had built for me way out in the woods about a
mile from home. The girls had to be there by themselves and couldn’t be near
anyone else. Indians believe that at this time nobody is to see them and that
they were not to look at anybody. If a man came near them or crossed their
path he might die from this. I didn’t eat anything and wasn’t hungry during
that time. Every evening my mother brought me a birchbark dish of water
(about half a cupful). The little birchbark cup was hung on the outside of my
wigwam; I couldn’t use any other and nobody could use it. During that time
I had a dream that told me I would live a long time and would have white hair

HitcEr] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 55

like you see I have now. I dreamed this; I did not have a vision. I consider
the dream I had too sacred to tell to anyone. I tell it only when I am given a
namesake or when IJ have to talk at ceremonies. I have often been offered money
to tell it, but I wouldn’t tell it.

The oldest woman on the Mille Lacs Reservation also obtained power
during her puberty isolation :

Every girl was isolated in the woods at first menstruation. I fasted 10 days
and my three sisters also did. Only those who wished to fast fasted. (I don’t
know of any girl who did not fast; but we did not live near other people.)
During this time I had a dream which gave me power. I saw myself as I am
today, an old lady. I again isolated myself at second menstruation and dreamed
again, and this made my dream power stronger. This is the dream that I use
in naming children and I relate at feasts, but I don’t relate it without a good
reason.

After puberty then, the Chippewa girl, although only 12, 13, 14, or
15 years of age, had reached maturity; she was now an “old woman.”
Play life had ended. Mats had to be made; hides tanned; birchbark
receptacles prepared; beadwork designed; wigwams built; meat, fish,
berries, and fruit dried. Life was now to center about obtaining all
knowledge which was necessary in the life of a good housewife.

TRAINING CHILDREN
TYPE OF EDUCATION

A Chippewa child was not subjected to formal education, such as
we conceive it, but it was taught in an informal way to conform to the
moral standards, as well as to the religious, the economic, and the
political pattern of his tribe. It learnt, too, the mental content of the
culture pattern of its people and participated in their diversions.
Much of this knowledge was learned by boys and girls before they
reached puberty; all of it was expected to be theirs before marriage.

METHODS

Methods employed in training children were those of lecturing and
counciling, of listening-in, and of having ideals presented; of imi-
tation of elders in play or of participation with them in serious work
and ceremonials.

Some instructions were of a formal type; some followed a most
informal procedure. “Little girls, so high [about 6 years of age]
were made to do work that they were able to do, such as carrying water
or washing birchbark dishes.” ‘Children did the same things fathers
and mothers did, but on a small scale: a little girl made a small net but
used the same knots her mother used, and she set that net just like her
parents did.” “If a woman had a reputation for tanning hides a

56 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 146

mother said to her young daughter, ‘Go, learn from her. Girls
followed their mother’s ways. They started early making little wig-
wams and small buckskin clothes.”

Densmore also observed that small girls imitated their mothers at
work: “A little girl was trained in what might be termed the accom-
plishments of feminine life, as well as in its household tasks. Her first
lessons in applied beadwork were the decoration of her doll’s clothing,
straight lines, either continuous or interrupted, being the easiest
patterns from which she progressed to diagonal patterns and the
familiar ‘otter-tail pattern’ ” (Densmore, 1929, p.62). A girl, she
noted, also participated in her mother’s work: “The companionship
of a Chippewa girl and her mother was very close and the child learned
many household tasks by watching and helping her mother. Thus a
little girl was early taught to chop wood and carry it on her back, and
as she grew older she carried larger and larger bundles of wood until
she could carry enough in to the wigwam for the night’s use. A girl
was taught to make little birchbark rolls like those which covered the
wigwam, her mother saying ‘You must not grow up to live outdoors
and be made fun of because you do not know how to make a good wig-
wam.’ She was also taught to make maple sugar, gather wild rice,
and do alla woman’s tasks” (Densmore, 1929, p. 61).

Children were taught the value of plants as Densmore points out,
by being encouraged to gather every flower they saw in the fields,
drying and pulverizing them and using them in the making of bever-
ages. At the same time the child was also taught that some plants
had medicinal value “while all were placed on the earth for the good
of mankind” (Densmore, 1929, p. 61). Boys were told not to destroy
birds’ nests for birds too were here “for the good of the earth” (Dens-
more, 1929, p.61). She continues, “As soon as a boy was able to hold
anything in his hands he was given something resembling a bow and
arrow, and taught to go through the motions of shooting. A bow and
arrows were first given a boy when he was 5 or 6 years of age, and
with this he took his first lessons in the craft that was most necessary
to a hunter or warrior in the old days” (Densmore, 1929, p. 65).

Children were taught good behavior by object lessons as occasions
arose: evil deeds were pointed out to them as undesirable; good ones,
as worthy of imitation. “Certain persons that had done wrong were
pointed out to us and we were told, ‘That’s what happened to them.’ ”
“If a man displayed anger in presence of children, parents later dis-
cussed the occasion with their children, and told them what to do and
what not to do in such instances.”

INSTRUCTORS

Although parents did much toward training their own children,
they were quite willing that grandparents should take upon them-

Hitcnr] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE BY

selves a goodly share of the responsibility of doing so. Grandparents
not only instructed children by word of mouth, but taught them by
demonstrating to them or by interesting them in participating in the
daily routine of work.

Both parents and grandparents constrained children to listen to
lectures given by elders; and obliged them to learn from those skilled
in the arts. “My mother never told us anything, but my grandmother
did.” “Grandmothers advised girls and watched over them like
mothers did.” “My mother used to tell us stories that taught us to
do right; my father, when he was old, told stories only occasionally
to his grandchildren.” “Years ago when we were young, we often
sat around in a circle while an old person in the group talked, telling
us what was ahead of us; what we should do to live good lives.”
“Boys, as young as seven, were made to go where old men were talking
to listen to them; parents made the children go. Old men usually
talked to boys, and old women to girls.” - “One day my old grand-
mother asked me if I was menstruating. I said, ‘No, not for five
moons.’ Then she told me what condition I was in. I didn’t know
before then. No one told me before I was married. I trusted my
grandmother more than my mother. She was older and had had
more experience.” “My father told me things; my mother never said
anything to me for I was a boy; grandfather told me things ‘too.”
“A grandfather often took a grandson when his voice began to change
and preached to him. This was done especially in the evening but at
any time of the year.” “My mother never called us all together to
instruct us, but my father did.” Densmore’s informant at Ponemah
(Red Lake Reservation) had four brothers and four sisters. His
“father gave counsel to the boys and taught them the best way to
live,” and his “mother told the girls how to conduct themselves” (Dens-
more, 1929, p. 60).

TIME OF INSTRUCTIONS

The time of instructions was often an occasion; frequently it was a
planned affair. However, legends were never told in the summertime
because “people were afraid that toads would gather in their place if
they did.” The first ones were told in the fall when the reptiles began
to crawl into the ground; the last ones, in the spring when the leaves
began to appear. Some legends were told for entertainment only ;
others taught young children the things in nature which they were
to respect. Legends were taught to each generation by grandpar-
ents, chiefly grandmothers, and usually to children from 5 to 10 years
of age. Children were often sent to grandparents for that purpose,
mothers giving them tobacco to be presented as a gift to the old
person.

58 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Bux. 146

Copway, a native, in discussing legends says:

These legends have an important bearing on the character of the children of
our Nation. The fire-blaze is endeared to them in after years by a thousand
happy recollections. By mingling thus, social habits are formed and strength-
ened. When the hour for this recreation arrives, they lay down the bow and
the arrow and joyously repair to the wigwam of the aged man of the village,
who is always ready to accommodate the young.

Legends are of three distinct classes, namely, the Amusing, the Historical, and
the Moral. In the Fall we have one class, in the Winter another, and in the
Spring a third... .

Some of these stories are most exciting, and so intensely interesting, that I
have seen children during their relation, whose tears would flow quite plenti-
fully, and their breasts heave with thoughts too big for utterance.

Night after night for weeks have I sat and eagerly listened to these stories.
The days following, the characters would haunt me at every step, and every
moving leaf would seem to be a voice of a spirit. To those days I look back
with pleasurable emotions. [Copway, 1851, pp. 98-99.]

REWARD AND PUNISHMENT

Although reward and punishment, scolding, and frightening played
a part in the training of many Chippewa children, no great emphasis
was laid upon them. Every attempt was made to make children mind
by speaking to them as occasion arose or by teaching them to do so at
times of formal] instruction.

The child was usually not given much praise; occasionally it was
given a reward, such as maple sugar, a toy carved out of wood, or a
doll of grass, for work well done.

Sensible parents, informants agreed, never ridiculed their children
for failures. Children were scolded, but “too much scolding often
made them worse.” At times a child was frightened by some masked
person; more often by expressions such as these: “The Sioux will get
you.” “You lazy old thing: you don’t know anything, and you'll
never have anything either.” “The owl will put you in his ears!”
“The owl will put you in his ears, and fly away with your little feet
sticking out of his ears!” “The owl will come and stick you in his
ears if you don’t stop crying!” If children refused to go to sleep at
night, mothers poked their heads out of wigwams and called the owl,
saying “K6o-k6-k6! Now, hear the owl!” On the Lac Courte Orielle
Reservation some parents hesitated to threaten children with the owl,
for “long ago an owl did come and get a child.”

An expression that was very hurtful and brought immediate con-
formity was that of “Ga!” accompanied by a gesture of the right
hand. In inflicting it the mother brought all finger tips to the tip
of her thumb, stretched her arm full length toward the child, released
the fingers, spreading them out completely, and at the same time said,

Hiner] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 59

“Ga!” Mothers used this gesture mostly when they were busy and
children became annoying. Both children and dogs were seen to mind
at once when thus corrected.

For mere annoyances children were punished at times by being sent
to bed early, but never without food. For more serious offenses, such
as lying, quarreling, being gone all day without permission, refusing
to obey, or taking things that did not belong to them, children older
than five years—“but never babies, one, two, or three years old”—
were switched or slapped. Either parent administered the punish-
ment by switching the legs or buttocks with a little stick, once or twice,
while the child was standing, or by slapping it with the hand across
the shoulders; it was never taken across the knee. “Parents made us
mind by striking us a little across the shoulders and slightly pushing
us. My mother once asked for salt—the salt was in the house and we
were out of doors. No one fetched it; all five of us continued running
around and playing. So our father slapped each one of us across the
shoulders with his hand, and said, ‘Can’t you hear? Can’t you hear?’
Our mother herself often struck us across the shoulders when we
didn’t mind but never whipped us. She would say, ‘I’ll tell your
father !’? and then we minded, because we were afraid of him.” A
Mille Lacs informant was “spanked on legs and hands with a little
switch. I got spanked by my father once because my little sister fell
into the lake. I was supposed to be watching her. The ones who got
spanked turned out to be good; the others did not.”

Not all parents, however, approved of whipping children. “Real
Indians don’t believe in striking children; they say, ‘You’ll knock the
spirit out of the child’.” “My father never, never, switched us! He
talked to us every evening, telling us how we should conduct ourselves
the next day.” A young Vermilion mother noticed that her grand-
mother invariably showed by her demeanor that she disliked seeing
her daughter, the informant’s mother, switch any of the children.
“She doesn’t want me to whip mine either. She often takes the chil-
dren and talks to them; she holds other people up to them as good or
bad examples.”

A child that persisted in crying was never punished by having a
cloth tied about its face, or by being tied to a tree or to the wigwam,
as is the custom among some Plains Indians.

DISCOVERING RIGHTEOUS CHILDREN

If parents had convictions that a child was giving promise of “be-
coming something special” they tested it by sending it to bed without
food. “In the morning such a child would be hungry and would be
handed both food and charcoal. If it chose the charcoal and merely

60 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY '[Buuu. 146

held it without eating it, it gave promise of becoming something; if
it walked around nibbling the coal, it would most certainly be some-
thing; if he took the food first, it would be only ordinary.”

If a child walked away from a group that was being instructed
by a parent or an older person “say in the evening when all were to-
gether, everyone knew that it would not lead a good life. My de-
ceased mother’s sister had a daughter that used to do that, and this
one didn’t lead a good life; she drank, and the life she led is not worth
telling. The girl’s mother tried to talk to her alone, but she would
not listen even then. Today hardly anyone listens to parents.”

RELIGION AND SUPERNATURAL POWERS
THE SUPREME BEING

Belief in a Supreme Being was firmly rooted in the Chippewa cul-
ture. This Being, called Ki’cé Man’ité or Great Spirit, was far away
from them. He was seldom addressed directly or alone in prayers, |
and offerings were made to Him only at the Midé’ wiwin celebration,
Informants spoke of Him in subdued tones and with much reverence;
they spoke of Him as the giver of life who protected and cared for
them. “He put everything on the earth and takes care of everything,”
added an old man, the most powerful medicine man on the Lac Courte
Orielle Reservation. An old woman on the same reservation said that
when praying the old Indians addressed themselves to Ki’cd Min’ito
first, and then “to the other great spirits, the kit’ci man’itd, those that
dwelt in winds, snow, thunder, storm, trees, and everything.” An old
Vermilion shaman was certain that “all the first Indians around here
knew there was a God long before the Whites came; only they didn’t
go to God for things as they do now as Christians. They got their
favors from their special helpers then.” Three’ L’?Anse informants
agreed that “Ki’cé Man’itd was always thought of as being up in the
heavens somewhere} He was never thought of as being near or around
the people.” Prayers of the Midé’wiwin were addressed to Him.
These were vocal prayers, a type of prayer seldom addressed ¢o minor
deities; prayers to them, and at times to Ki’ca Man’itd, were those of
meditation.

MINOR DEITIES 78

Deities of lesser power than Ki’cé Min’itd were both those that dwelt
in nature and those that formed the individual’s helpers, namely the
guardian spirits. Guardian spirits, the intermediaries between Ki’cé
Man’it6 and the Chippewa man or woman, were obtained when fasting

3 See also Hilger (1936 b, p. 2). Cf. Coleman’s excellent article on Chippewa religion
(1937, pp. 33-57). Her informants, however, differed from the present writer’s in the
meaning of Ki’cé Man’itd and kit’ci man’itd.

Hitcer] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 61

as a child (cf. pp. 89-48). An appeal to the guardian spirit by his
client when he was in need was always heard. Several informants
told of helpers that appeared to them in dreams or visions in later
life but not while fasting. A Red Lake informant received such a
helper when in dire distress. She said,

My place was struck by lightning and everything was burnt. The government
then built this house in which I now live, but I had very little furniture and
practically no utensils when I moved in. After dark on the first day I was to
sleep here, I walked to the north door. Just as I looked up at the sky, I saw
12 girls (bust size) in the air, looking at me; they were all white girls with
heads drooping. I knew that they had come to be my helpers. After that I was
given things by different people on the reservation; one day by this person and
another day by that one. This happened 22 years ago; but even today when I
am in need or lonely, I think of those 12 girls and things brighten up.

A L’Anse woman told of a helper that came to her husband’s first
wife while asleep. She dreamed “that she was sick with tuberculosis,
and while walking along the beach saw two sisters who said to her,
‘Don’t be scared. We are the Thunder. Whatever you will ask,
we will give you.’ She asked for health, and got it from the
Thunder” (Hilger, 1936 a, p. 23). Her father when about 18 years
old dreamed—

that he was like a white cloud and could fly like a bird over mountains and
lakes; that he was a prisoner of two women in a wigwam near the Sault. It
seemed he couldn’t move; he felt paralyzed. The wigwam opened; a little weasel
entered, took him by the head, and he could again fly. He dreamed this same
dream two or four times. Then he went to an Indian in Canada and told his
dream. This Indian said, “You’ll cover a lot of jand, and because the little white
animal got you by the head, you'll get as white as the weasel.” He became cap-
tain at the Sault Locks. Later he was land surveyor, mail carrier, transporter
of minerals to Detroit, Chicago, Buffalo, and Canadian shores. He was never
sick and died at the age of 76. [Hilger, 1936 a, p. 23.]

Other minor deities were those that resided in things of nature, such
as lakes, rivers, and hills; rocks of uncommon shapes or magnitude;
trees of unusual size or formation; birds, fish, animals of all kinds, and
vegetables; thunder, wind, storms, and lightning. “We were taught
to show respect for the thunder; we were told to sit down and to be
quiet until the storm had passed over. It was just like God going by.”
“Old Indians think that stones have spirits, especially large stones.
That is why they place tobacco as offerings on stones.” “I often saw
an old man who lived near here—he is dead now—put tobacco on the
big stone that you saw on the side of the road on your way out here.”

The Chippewa also believed in evil spirits (ma’ci min’ito). They
were personal and individual and not tribal and general. Their origin
lay indreams. Racoons, fish, and turtle were possessed of evil spirits
for some informants. “In old days evil spirits were spoken of as
doing harm, but no one ever spoke of a leader among them. The be-
lief in the devil came with the Whites.”

62 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY ‘[ Buu. 146
TOBACCO AS A CEREMONIAL OFFERING

Tobacco, the usual ceremonial offering (pindakd’cigé—he offers to-
bacco), was seldom offered to Ki’cé Man’itd. It was, however, offered
to all other deities by anyone inclined to do so: to guardian spirits to
obtain favors; to evil spirits to ward off harm. ‘Tobacco was offered —
as a ceremonial gift either in its natural form or by being smoked.
“I burn tobacco in our stove whenever it thunders for the first time in
the spring.” “Whenever there is a thunderstorm we put tobacco near
a tree or near the house or in any clean place (a place that cannot be
stepped on by human beings) so the lightning won’t strike us.” “Long
ago when a thunderstorm was gathering, we threw tobacco outside
and said to the thunder: ‘Take this tobacco and go your way; there
are lots of other Indians on your way.’ ”

A Lac Courte Orielle interpreter knew an old Indian, “a very old
Indian,” who placed pinches of tobacco on a big boulder found between
Reserve and Chief Lake. Many informants were certain that offer-
ing tobacco to the deities associated with bodies of water was an old
custom. “My aunt always strews tobacco on the water, all around the
boat, before leaving the shore in order to drive away the evil spirits.”
“Karly in the spring when we make our first trip on the water, we
throw a pinch of tobacco into the lake.” An 87-year-old Red Lake
informant had seen Indians fill a miniature birchbark canoe with
tobacco and “offer it to the spirit of the water by throwing it into the
lake.” His son had caught three dead dogs in his fish net (1939).
Since each had a small bag of tobacco tied to its neck, he “supposed
that someone had drowned the dogs in the lake as an offering for good
luck.”

An old Mille Lacs informant noted : “Some white men drowned here
in the lake, and that did not happen for nothing. Some things are
sacred to Indians and white people who make fun of it can expect to
be punished. Whites have laughed at Indians putting tobacco in the
lake. We put tobacco into the lake whenever we go swimming, or
when we want to cross the lake. One time, long ago, we were crossing
the lake in a steamboat called ‘Queen Anne.’ Many Indians were on
the boat. We were coming from Waukon and going to the Point.
The waves were so high that we thought we were going to drown. My
great-grandfather threw three or four sacks of tobacco into the water
and soon the waves took us back to Waukon. We were all saved.”
“Tf a person dies the surviving members of his family must throw
tobacco into the lake before they take their first swim. My husband
and his brothers did so this spring; their brother died in the winter
(1940).” “Yes, we boys put about a handful of smoking tobacco into
the lake,” added the husband.

Hiner] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 63

Tobacco was smoked as an offering to Ki’cé Man’itd at the Midé’-
wiwin, and to the deities appealed to when exercising shamanistic
powers. It was also smoked when invoking a guardian spirit, naming
a child, treating sickness, making use of medicinal knowledge, avert-
ing danger, or petitioning for a favor. “Lighting a pipe is the same
as praying, for we light our pipes and ask our helper to help us.” The
head nurse at an Indian hospital neglected to awaken an old Indian
when a thunderstorm arose. “I wanted to smoke my pipe and ask
protection on all the people of the reservation, as well as those at the
hospital. That nurse didn’t awaken me after I asked her twice to do
so; so now I smoke for all, but not for her !”

Tobacco used in the early day consisted of the inner bark of red dog-
wood—Indians on all reservations called it “red willow.” ** An in-
formant removed the outside bark of a twig with her thumbnail and
noted that the remaining layer of bark when carefully shaven off
served as tobacco, so-called kinnikinnick. Today kinnikinnick is a
mixture of finely crushed inner bark of the red dogwood and shavings
of plug tobacco. The mixture is worked in a mortar with pestle, both
mortar and pestle being of wood. This mixture, too, is used today
for ceremonial smoking.

THE MIDE’ WIwIN

Warren defined the Midé’wiwin as the Chippewa “mode of wor-
shiping the Great Spirit, and securing life in this and a future world,
and of conciliating the lesser spirits, who in their belief, people earth,
sky, and waters...” (Warren, 1885, p. 100.) All reservations in-
cluded in this study except L’Anse had held Midé’wiwin celebra-
tions within the year preceding the writer’s visit. Interested persons
on the L’Anse Reservation usually partook in the Lac Vieux Desert
celebration (Wisconsin).

Traditionally the Midé’wiwin was held regularly in the spring after
warm weather set in, and in the fall before cold weather began; it
could be given in addition at any time of the year as a thanksgiving
offering for favors received or as a petition for the restoration of
health. These traditions have been retained on most reservations.

Persons of any age were received at any celebration, membership
being by acceptance and initiation, and not by inheritance.1® An old
Lac Courte Orielle medicine man remarked: “In the old days not all
Indians were members of the Midé’wiwin, nor was there an age limit.
Sometimes children and old people joined at the same celebration. In

144 Densmore (1929, p. 145) classified the “red willow’’ as Cornus stolonifera Michx.

% Cf. also Hoffman (1889, 1891) ; Hallowell (1936 b) ; and Lafleur (1940).

10 Cf. Kohl (1859, pp. 40-52) for description of ceremonial at which child in cradleboard
was adopted.

64 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 146

fact, anyone could join who wished to derive benefits by being a mem-
ber.” One informant having been a sickly child had been initiated
when very young. She remarked: “Some old man performed the
duties which I should have done had I been full grown when initiated.
It did me much good; that’s why I’m living today.” A person wishing
to join announced his intention “ahead of time and had to keep that
promise; if he didn’t, he could expect bad luck. For instance, a person
announcing now that he will join next fall must join next fall, and
not at any other time.”

At the spring celebration (June 1938) at Ponsford on the White
Earth Reservation, two children between 4 and 5 years of age were
admitted (pl. 6, 7 and 2). The mother of one had promised during
the previous winter that she would have her child that had been re-
stored to health initiated in the spring celebration; the mother of the
other had asked for its admission hoping that thereby the child would
regain health and strength and reach old age. On the Nett Lake
Reservation in August 1939, a mother asked that a special celebration
of the Midée’wiwin be given in order that her child, not yet a year old,
might be admitted and thereby be cured of swollen glands in neck
and chin; it had suffered from them for months. On the Lac
Courte Orielle Reservation in the spring of 1935, two small children
and one adult married woman were admitted. An informant on the
same reservation had been admitted as a child, but had not gone
beyond the first degree. He said persons joined the first degree in
order to obtain long life; he preferred not to comment on the other
degrees.

Informants, whether members, ex-members, or those who had never
been members, on all reservations were hesitant to discuss matters
pertaining to the Mide’wiwin. MHesitancy was possibly due to loyalty
to their beliefs, to respect for the beliefs of others, or to a fear that
revenge might be visited upon persons divulging secrets. Some in-
formation, however, was collected.

Degrees and ceremonials differed somewhat in the various groups.
Informants believed these differences had a historical background in
that in the early day each band held its separate Midé’wiwin. Atthe
present time persons still travel distances to participate in the cere-
monial of the group that admitted them. An old couple on the White
Earth Reservation had traveled to the Mille Lacs Reservation to par-
ticipate in the celebration in June 1939, and had in mind to continue
to do so each year. If ever the time arrived when they had no one
to take them or when they were no longer able to travel so far, they
intended to celebrate the Midé’wiwin on the White Earth Reservation
either with the Mille Lacs group at Elbow Lake or with the group of
the White Earth band that celebrates at Ponsford.

Hitcme] — CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 65

A Lac Courte Orielle informant contributed the following:

There were usually four degrees or stages in the Midé’wiwin; in a very few
cases there were five or six. The following are the degrees: 6¢’g@ midé’wid, ini-
tiation or 1st degree or ist stage; ni’cO midé’wid, 2d stage; mis’so midé’wid, 3d
stage; ni’o midé’wid, 4th stage; na’nd midé’wid, 5th stage; kabé’ midé’wid, 6th
stage or final or last stage or finishing stage. Making the first four degrees is the
normal or average attainment. Only in exceptional cases are the 5th and 6th
degrees granted. The 5th degree is granted if one loses a loved one and in
consequence of the bereavement his health is jecpardized—he becomes so sick
that people think he will die of a broken heart. The spirit is asked in this degree
for greater power to endure sacrifice; the person is willing to exchange what
powers he has for a prolonged life. The 6th degree is very, very seldom granted.
The degrees differ slightly on the various reservations. Ours are about the same
as those on the Lac du Flambeau Reservation. The following are the degrees
on the Lae du Flambeau Reservation and again in order of importance: ist,
weasel or its family, mink, beaver, ete.; 2d, some kind of water fowl, such as
hawk, owl, etc.; 3d, fox and its family; 4th, the bear; 5th, an exceptionally large
snake, copperhead, pine, etc. ; 6th, a bear hand with claws, etc.

When a person has completed the fourth degree, he has attained the highest
degree of the Midé’wiwin; he is then considered as having completed the entire
course of Indian religion. There is nothing more beyond this stage, except, as
stated before, in exceptional cases when certain persons for very special reasons
are granted special degrees. But the powers of these persons in no way exceed
those that were attained in the 4th degree. The skins of animals which the
dancers or participants in the Midé’wiwin carry are symbols of achievement in
the Midé’wiwin course. Hach type of skin represents a certain degree. (These
skins do not represent any power that the carrier attained through his fasts or
dreams.) Names of skins are the following, each corresponding to the degree:
Ist degree, weasel (cingd’siwa’ yan) ; 2d degree, fowl of any kind (biné’siwa’yan);
3d degree, fox (wa’gicsiw&’yan); 4th degree, small bear (makwAa’siwf&’yan); 5th
degree, large snake (kéné’biksiw&’yan); 6th degree, bear claw or paw (m&k-
wa’nindjsiwa’y an).

A White Earth informant contributed the following:

The degree of the Midé’wiwin, or rather the method of procedure, differs
somewhat from locality to locality. Those of the members of the Mille Lacs
band living at Elbow Lakes on this reservation differ considerably from those of
the Ponsfordians on this reservation and both of these differ from those at Pone-
mah on the Red Lake Reservation. At Ponsford there are eight degrees but the
last four reiterate the first four. The first four degrees are called abading’ midé’-
wid (once ‘‘grand-medicined”), nidj6 midé’wid (twice ‘“‘grand-medicined’’),
niso’ midéwid (three times “‘grand-medicined’’), néd’midé’ wid (four times “‘grand-
medicined’’). The ‘medicine bag’’ of each degree is distinct. That of the first
is the cingd’ siwA’yan (weasel hide); of the second, cankwé’siwa’yan (mink hide) ;
of the third, makw4 siway’wan (bear’s foot); of the fourth, gicik’ (cedar). The
third degree might also be signified by the hide of the owl or the hawk; formerly
also by that of the otter. The cedar of the fourth degree is whittled out in four
places and migis (shells) are placed in these four holes; ribbons are tied to both
ends. The ‘‘medieine bundles’’—dream badges—are distinct and are not the
same as these used at the Midé’wiwin.

The badge of the first degree on the Lac du Flambeau Reservation
is the weaselskin; the second, the skin of the owl or some fowl; the
third, the foxskin; and the fourth, the highest degree, the bearskin.

884216—51——6

66 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buun. 146

The ceremonial was held in an elongated wigwam."” Frameworks
of the Midé’wiwin wigwam were seen on all reservations covered in
this study, except L’Anse. They were always found near the home of a
member (pl. 26, 7), and were in his care. One such wigwam on the
Lac Courte Orielle Reservation (June 1935) measured 125 feet in
length and 18 feet in width. Two entrances, one at each end, had
been barred with two saplings tied to the framework in the form of
an X; the height was, therefore, not measured, but it appeared to
be that of wigwams scattered about the place—wigwams occupied by
participants during celebrations. One of these was 614 feet in height.
The framework consisted of 2 rows of 11 saplings each. The heavier
ends of the saplings were planted securely in the ground about 12 feet
apart; the slender ends of opposite ones, bent over and fastened to
each other to form an arch, thus forming a rounded ceiling. Pine
and cedar twigs had been intertwined between saplings for about 2
feet above the ground. The upper section of the wigwam was un-
covered. The Midé’wiwin member who cared for the wigwam noted
that during the days of ceremonial this section was covered with hides,
birchbark rolls, and canvas. Down the middle in the interior was a
row of 20 stones, each about 6 inches in diameter, set about 4 feet apart.
The entire row was skirted by a path. Outside the wigwam and a
little distance to the side of one end was a circle of twigs about 5 feet
in diameter. In the center of this was a stone of unusual contour
and bordering it, a thin outline of red clay resembling a turtle. Wher-
ever the contour of the stone permitted, a pinch of smoking tobacco
had been placed. The Midé’wiwin had been celebrated in this wigwam
in May 1935.

The Midé’wiwin wigwam on the White Earth Reservation differed
little from the above in construction, except that the upper section
was not covered during the ceremonial, nor did the cedar and pine
twigs reach much beyond a foot above the ground. Within the en-
closure, not far from the east entrance, were two poles, each of which
was topped with a carved wooden representation of a bird (pl. 6, 7 and
2). The Midé’wiwin was celebrated in this wigwam in June 1988.
The framework of a Midé’wiwin wigwam on the Mille Lacs Reser-
vation consisted of two rows of nine saplings each. Poles were tied
horizontally to these, encircling the wigwam about 2 feet from the
ground. Four rows of poles rested on top and were tied to the frame-
work, the entire upper weight being supported by three poles planted
in the ground along the center. Basswood fiber had been used in all
tying. The spring celebration which had been delayed was to be held
there about July 4 (1940), remarked a member of the hawk degree.

7Cf, pl. 6. All Midé’wiwin lodges were formerly covered with birchbark and bulrush
mats, like the home wigwams (cf. pp. 137-141).

HitenR] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 67

At that time the lower section, extending a little beyond the encircling
poles, was to be covered with long grass, twigs, and branches.

The Midé’wiwin ceremonial celebration lasted 4 days. It consisted
of gesticulated dancing and singing to the accompaniment of a drum;
of fasting, feasting, and smoking; and of sacrificial offerings. The
songs of the Midé’wiwin were used exclusively during the ceremo-
nials.* Members had them recorded in pictographs on birchbark
rolls and frequently rehearsed them before celebrations. Only mem-
bers were able to interpret the pictographs. The meal served to
members at the Nett Lake and at the White Earth celebrations con-
sisted primarily of wild rice, beef, and meat of dogs—dog meat being
considered essential to the feast. At Nett Lake dogs were described
by nonparticipant observers as “just about the size of this little black
dog; they are about eight weeks old.” The one used at the final meal
at the White Earth ceremonial was larger and older. He was kept
within the enclosure of the Midé’wiwin wigwam, being tied to its
framework with a rope. He was quieted and petted by one of the
members, and never left alone.

Members partook in the ceremonial feast only upon invitation.
A young man extended such invitations on the Nett Lake Reservation
by handing a small stick to each person invited. One of these, handed
to an informant during an interview, invited her to partake of the
feast given during the ceremonial held for the cure of the child with
the swollen glands, earlier referred to in this work (p. 64). The
surface of the stick of wood, about 6 inches in length and in thickness
that of a lead pencil, was cut hexagonally, and was encircled with a
groove about one-quarter of an inch from one end. A young man
delivered this invitation about 4 o’clock in the afternoon. He and
another young man had already extended several invitations and had
yet a handful to deliver—“at least eight more.” Only the very old
members were being invited. The informant called her grandchild
from play and sent it into the house to fetch her grandmother’s gray
enameled dish (6 inches in diameter) and her red flannel bag (8 by 6
inches) containing her pipe and tobacco. In the meantime, an old
man carrying a similar dish, a buckskin bag with pipe and tobacco,
and a washed-out pink cotton blanket, stopped to say a few words
to our informant and then walked down the path to the Midé’wiwin
wigwam. Soon she, too, carrying her pipe bag and dish followed
the path. Her daughter remarked that although she herself was 50
years old and a member of the Midé’wiwin, she could not help in this
case and was therefore not invited. “Only the old people can help in
this case; the chief and five old men have carried on the ceremonial
since yesterday.”

18 Cf. Densmore (1910, pp. 11-118) for songs sung at the Midé’wiwin celebration. These
pages also contain a rather detailed description of the ceremonial.

68 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buu M46

Offerings at the White Earth celebration consisted of four cotton
blankets, three 2-gallon tin water pails, several small cooking dishes,
several pieces of calico cloth, and some packages of wild rice and
groceries (pl. 6, 2). Observations of offerings could not be made at
Nett Lake, the wigwam being a closed one. They were described by
one informant who had seen them as similar to the above, including, in
addition, two hides which the mother had tanned. A member on the
Lac Courte Orielle Reservation thought that providing the offerings—
an absolutely necessary thing—was the condition hardest to fulfill.

If one can get together the offerings, [he added] one can make all the degrees.
In the old days offerings consisted of buckskins and blankets. Parents make
the offerings when their children are admitted. All offerings are really made
to Ki’cé Man’itd, but the persons that dance and take part in the ceremonials
receive them. These ceremonies can’t be changed; they are exactly the same
as in old days. They are the same as when the Indians first came on this earth.
They are just the same!

Each degree possessed its own design of facial and body decoration.
An old Midé’woman on the White Earth Reservation when prepared
for burial (September 1938) had two stripes, one blue and one red,
painted diagonally across each cheek from bridge of nose toward lobe
of ear, and a disk of blue on the center of the forehead. The red
paint was made of soil; the blue, from the lead of an indelible pencil.
Many Wisconsin Chippewa obtained red paint from L’Anse Indians,
soil for red paint being found on the shores of Keweenaw Point on
Lake Superior:

On the rock just beneath the water, there will be found little cup-shaped
formations in which there is a jelly-like substance of dark red color. This may
be scooped out and dried in the sun; it will seem like clay when dry. When
red paint is desired, it may be mixed with any grease, preferably bear grease—
bear grease was always used in old days. Some men also made clay pipe bowls
of this material.

A very old Mille Lacs informant, member of the hawk degree, said
designs for all degrees in life and at burial consisted of lines and
disks. Colors differed: the first or weasel degree, used white paint;
the second or mink, brown; the third or hawk, yellow and vermilion;
and the fourth or bear, black.

Each member kept “power” or “medicine” in the skin of the animal
distinctive of his degree (cf. p. 65). This formed his badge. Hach
member was buried with his own skin. The White Earth woman was
clasping the skin of a weasel in her hands when ready for burial. An
old informant on the same reservation was saving the skin of a weasel]
that had inadvertently wandered into his garden (July 1938); he
wished to have it on hand when the adopted child by his daughter
would be admitted to the Midé’wiwin. He was a member of the owl-
skin degree; his wife, of the weasel degree.

Hineur] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE | 69

These skins containing “power” were carried by members during
the ceremonial dances of the Midé’wiwin. At the White Earth cele-
bration, the two mothers sat in the center line each holding her child
in her lap, while the participating members (eight in this instance)
danced along the path, the full length of the wigwam, singing and
carrying in their hands the skins of their degree. As each member
approached the child, he or she, with a quick motion of the hand,
pointed the head of the animal at each child, bringing it very near its
face. The child invariably cried with surpise and fear. Nonpartici-
pant observers were unwilling to comment on the significance of these
gestures.

A former Midé’wiwin member on the L’Anse Reservation described
her uncle’s initiation thus:

My uncle sat in the middle of the long wigwam. The medicine men, four or
five of them, came dancing in, carrying pouches. The pouches were made of the
skins of beaver, otter, white martin or weasel—all elongated like snake skins.
The dancers danced along the path of the wigwam and when they came near my
uncle they threw their pouches at him. The “medicine” in them was so strong
that he fell over and fainted. Hach man then picked up his pouch and laid
it on him, and he came to. From then on my uncle had powers to punish his
enemies.

A 70-year-old Vermilion informant had joined the Midé’wiwin at
the age of 16, having been chosen by his parents to do so. He owned
two books (ledger-ruled, about 9 by 6 inches in size) which contained
information that he had obtained as a member of the Midée’wiwin. A
number of pages contained names of roots and herbs of both medicinal
and magic value written in Chippewa. Each line of such information
was followed by several explanatory lines of pictorial writings, the
drawings being mainly animals and men. One page contained the
sketch of a front view of a person. Lines led from dots on various
parts of the body to numbered circles drawn in the margin of the page,
the numbers referring to information on succeeding pages. Each dot
indicated the place on the body into which magic power was infused
during the Midé’wiwin ceremonials. “A weasel member, for ex-
ample, will motion toward this point of the body with his weasel,”
remarked the informant.

The Midé’wiwin drum is called mitikkwakok’ (wooden pail) ;
when in actual use it is called nimicGmis (my grandfather). The
drumsticks for this drum are called bagakok’kwan. The drum used
at the White Earth celebration was about 18 inches long and 8 inches
in diameter. It was made by hollowing out a log cylinderically, leav-
ing one end closed. When in use it contained several cups of water,
the open end being covered with a piece of scraped but untanned fresh
rawhide. As the hide dried, it shrunk, thus forming an airtight taut
covering. The water caused the sound of the drumbeats to carry a

70 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY {[Buuu. 146

long distance. Both men and women members beat the drum during
the ceremonial, this being the only occasion at which women beat a
drum.

A larger drum, the so-called “big drum” (déwé igdn) “one as large
as a washtub with rawhide stretched on both ends,” is also considered
sacred. Formerly it was used at the sacred dances other than the
Midé’wiwin, such as the War Dance. The Midé’ drum is the older,
but both drums were held equally sacred. It is believed that both had
their origin in dreams: the small one, among the Chippewa; the larger
one, among the Sioux. An old Lac Courte Orielle man had heard a
Sioux describe the origin of the big drum thus:

Long ago there was a war. A young girl found herself trapped under much
grass that was hanging over the side of a river. The enemy was camped right
near by. Four days she was imprisoned there. On the fourth day the Great
Spirit appeared to her and asked if she were hungry, and she said, “Yes.” The
Great Spirit then told her to follow Him and He led her right into the enemy’s
camp where they both sat down and ate. The enemy couldn’t see them. After
they had eaten, the Great Spirit told her that she was entitled to have a drum
in her possession; that this drum would bring peace between the people; and
this was a Sioux girl. The Chippewa got their drum from the Sioux, and this
ig its origin. We consider the big drum sacred, and place offerings of tobacco
and clothes near it.

Today the large drums are still held sacred but are used at social
dances, such as pow-wows.

Drums were seen or heard during this study on all reservations
except L’Anse; none had been used at L’Anse for some years. In
1935 five large sacred drums were extant on the Lac Courte Orielle
Reservation. One was owned by each of five groups: the Chief Lake
group, the Barber Town people, Reserve village, the Round Lake
group, and the Whitefish people, and cared for by men in each group.

When the United States Government moved the Indians from the village of
Old Post to the village of New Post on the same reservation (the land at Old
Post having been flooded by a newly built dam), the Indians of the reservation
presented the New Post group with a sacred drum. After we had moved to
New Post, some Indians came over with the drum. That morning everybody
went out into an open space, a field. Those who brought the drum lined up
on one side and our Indians opposite to them. They started drumming, and
soon everybody joined in and danced Indian dances. Then the drum was given
into the safekeeping of two of our men, and from then on it belonged to New
Post. Indians consider the drum very sacred and will never leave it alone for
long; somebody is always in the room with it. He might step outside for a
few minutes and leave it alone, but he won’t be gone long.

In Indian Village on the Mille Lacs Reservation a large drum, well
decorated with bands of beadwork and copper medals about the size
of 25-cent pieces, rested on a shelf in the corner of one of the homes.
On the La Pointe Reservation, “the Martin group owned one, and
one was owned by the group across the river (Bad River) .”

HILGER] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE ra

Drumsticks (bagakok’kwan) were about 1 foot long with the end,
used in beating, well padded with buckskin.

“GRAND MEDICINE,” OR POWERS OF MEMBERS OF THE MIDE’WIWIN

The supernatural power ascribed to members of the Midé’wiwin
included black art, generally spoken of as “grand medicine” or “bad
medicine” (kabé’ midéwid).?® In exercising it, it was believed that
Midé’ members, (midé’winini—medicine men and medicine women),
could bring great misfortune upon people, even causing them to be-
come ill or insane or to die. Powers could be exercised by personal
contact, by being in the presence of persons to be influenced, or by
being at great distances from them. The medium used was acquired
in the various degrees of the Midé’wiwin. “Persons who had com-
pleted the entire four degrees of the Midé’wiwin were given an in-
signia, usually a thimble-shaped article wherein was carried ‘dope.’
He wore this on his person; not in a conspicuous place, however. The
‘dope’ is ‘bad medicine.’ As he is advanced in the degrees, more dam-
aging medicines are revealed to him. The medium is sometimes
carried in small doll-like men and women made of unbeaded buck-
skins called 6décénd’ win.” Influence could be exerted on Indians and
Whites, but was seldom exercised on the latter. Expressions used
in describing these shamanistic activities are miké’ci midé’wid (being
“orand medicined”).

Members used various methods when exercising evil powers, the
commonest probably being that of the “fireball” (cinkwané’nok or
ma’dji ic’koté). On all reservations informants either had experi-
enced the effects of the “fireball” in their own lives or had observed it
in the lives of others. To the eye the “fireball” appears like a ball of
glowing, flameless material. Young informants, as well as Whites
intermarried with Indians, who had investigated “fireballs,” were
convinced that they are merely marsh gas or “will-o’-the-wisp.” Chip-
pewa who conceded that they were marsh gas still persisted, however,
that they were used by the Midé’ to transmit “bad medicine” or “grand
medicine,” even great distances, the effects being ill health, death, or
“bad luck of some sort.”

The following are personal experiences of informants:

An old Indian told me that he once saw three ‘fireballs,’ the first one larger
than the others, rise one after the other east of here and travel far over to the

west, sailing about a half mile above the earth. The Indians called these balls
cinkwiné’ndk. They are omens of sickness or bad luck.

19 Hallowell (1936 b, vol. 38, pp. 48-49) tells of a favor bestowed on some young men
by a Saulteaux through the exercise of his “medicine.” Cooper (1936, pp. 8-13) records
several types of divination and six types of medicine men for the Lake of the Woods and
Rainy Lake Ojibway.

we BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buny. 146

When I was young I rose very early one morning while the rushes were yet
damp with dew, to make a bulrush mat. It was still dark. I saw a light, like
a flash, pass across the river. It passed among the trees and over toward
Green’s meadow. I whispered this to my brother William who was with me.
He took a pitchfork and hit at it. It disappeared in the woods, and we never
saw it again. There was a sick girl nearby, and we think the ‘fireball’ went
for her. At least she died soon after.

Indians are afraid of “fireballs.” They were afraid, also, of certain light
that used to appear in the woods near the Convent. One evening a little girl
visited here. It was dark when she was ready to go home and she was afraid
to pass those woods. My girl offered to go with her, but I was afraid to have
her come home alone. Finally my husband said he would go with them. On
the way back he saw the light, and went up to it, and it was a rotten fungus
on some old tree stump. He brought part of it home and said to me, “Here
is what the people have been talking about.” My husband has no Indian blood
in him. [Hilger, 1986 a, p. 19.]

A “fireball is an ill omen for Indians. When one is seen, it is believed that
a medicine man has been hired by someone to injure a particular person. Some
time ago, during the night, a ‘‘fireball” was seen to leave the swamp near here
and go eastward.—The direction which the ‘‘fireball” takes will tell where the evil
effects will show up.—Several weeks later, during maple-sugar-making time,
one of the men was tired from walking back and forth for sap, and he laid
down in the open. The ground was damp and he contracted pneumonia and
died after several days. It was said that thaf “fireball” had been “bad
medicine” and caused his death. His wife has been sick too since that time.
Every spring one hears things about “fireballs.” My brother-in-law had a stroke
a year ago, and claims it was caused by means of Indian “medicine.”

Late in the afternoon on the day when my son William and some men had
exhumed six graves—one being that of a chief—in the new roadbed between
Redby and Red Lake (Red Lake Reservation) a deadful storm arose. It was
the worst one, the old people said, that had visited the reservation in 40 years.
Upon his return home William found the neighbors gathered about his house
and much excited. They insisted that before it began to rain a “fireball” had
come out of his house. My daughter, too, had seen it. He found many of the
tall pines near his home broken down. The neighbors insisted that the dead
chief was avenging the exhuming of his remains; the terrible storm was a
punishment to all the village, while the “fireball” gave evidence of special dis-
favor to William. One old man insisted on placing tobacco on William’s door-
step hoping thereby to pacify the dead chief.

Not being certain who had injured her husband, a Lac Courte
Orielle informant engaged a medicine man to discover the culprit:

I once hired a medicine man. It happened like this: About 2 years ago, in
the fall, while I, my old man, and an old neighbor woman were sitting on our
front porch facing the lake, a stone in the shape of a “fireball” hit my old
man’s leg. Soon his leg broke out with sores, even to his waist line. So, in
the spring we hired a medicine.man to discover the source of the ‘fireball.”
He went away and upon his return said that an Indian enemy had done it,
and advised us to save the stone. [The stone, about 3 x 2 x 2 inches, was stored
in a Mason fruit jar.] We paid the medicine man half a pound of tobacco for
his services. One can pay them anything.

HIteEr] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 73

Black art could also be exercised as “grand medicine” on figurines
of wood made to represent persons (macki’ki masinigo’cikon). An
interpreter at L’Anse related the following:

A few years ago I was asked to clean out an old house. In it I found a
bundle which contained two figures carved out of wood, one representing a man,
the other a woman. At about the position of the heart was a little red spot
and an arrow. An old woman who looked at them said, “That’s bad. The
Indian who moved from here must have killed these two people by ‘medicine’.”’
She examined them and said they represented a man and a woman who had
been done away with some time ago. [Hilger, 1936 a, p. 18.]

Another method of exercising evil power required contact with an
enemy’s person. “They tell of an Indian here who, pretending to be in
good faith, distributed tobacco to several persons. While doing so to
one of the men, he dropped ‘poison’ which he had stored between his
fingers along with the tobacco, thus causing this man’s mouth to be
drawn to one side.” A young man was similarly afflicted for laughing
at a medicine man who was relating an incident. “The medicine man
gave him one look, and everybody knew that something would happen
to this fellow. And sure enough, after some time his mouth was
pulled to one side.” A L’Anse interpreter when afilicted with a
swollen ankle was told by her aunt, “That is just what I expected
would happen. I notice people want you to work for them in prefer-
ence to other Indians. Somebody is jealous of you. You are getting
along too well; that’s the reason.” ,

Members of the Midé’wiwin could also cause death. On the
L’Anse Reservation this story prevails: “Years ago an old medicine
man came nearly drowning in Keweenaw Bay, but the mermaids

(mama’kwasa) saved him; whereupon he promised them a person
every year, for 10 years. This man lived on an island near Pequaming.
Every year after that until the medicine man’s death—he died bereft of
his mind—a person was drowned in the Bay.” An old Lac Courte
Orielle informant had been told by his father that Bagawas, a medi-
cine man, had killed many children by merely beating his drum. “In
old days,” he added, “the Indians were scared of each other, especially
of old fellows.”

Insanity was often the result of being “grand-medicined.” “They
put that ‘grand medicine’ in a bearskin bag, and do such powerful
things with it as to make a man crazy; I have seen it!” said a Red
Lake informant. “Years ago a woman across the Lake from here (at
Red Lake) ate her own children—The one who does that must be
crazy; she can’t be right!—She claimed she was eating bear meat,
or porcupine meat. But she had killed her child, and cooked it. The
Indians said some one had ‘grand-medicined’ her for she was doing
the will of another and not her own. So they had her ‘grand-medi-

74 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Butn. 14¢

cined’ by a stronger medicine man and she became sane again.” Th
following was related on the L’Anse Reservation:

A surveyor whom I knew very well robbed the Indians of much property. He
surveyed lands for Indians at Watersmeet, Lac Vieux Desert, Granville, and
Iron Mountain. He was given money to buy lands. He might be given $400 for
the purchase of a piece of land and obtain from the Indian owner a deed and
a receipt for $400, when in reality he had given only $200 and retained the
other $200. The seller expected the balance of the money. Many were tricked
in this way and finally the culprit was discovered. One day when he came home
he fell and stretched out about six feet; his body seemed to become that much
elongated. He jumped up and said, “Hard game!” He had these spells during
a period of six months. He would foam at the mouth, but nobody could do any-
thing for him. We tried everything, even rubbing him with vinegar. Every time
he came out of a spell he would say, “Hard game!” The old chief had found
him out and had sent bad medicine to him. After awhile he became foolish.
One time he wore my shoes to town. He finally confessed he wronged the
Indians. Now he knew they had punished him. [Hilger, 1936, p. 19.]

Upon the refusal of parents on the Red Lake Reservation to allow
a daughter to marry a medicine man, the latter “srand-medicined” the
girl causing her nose to bleed. for 2 days and 2 nights. Upon the
advice of another medicine man, an old one, the former was recalled to
fumigate the girl. This he did by placing herbs on two hot stones
over which the girl held her head, head and stones being covered
with a blanket.

A woman on the Red Lake Reservation told of her plight:

Yes, twice I was “grand-medicined.” I almost died; even my hair came out.
It happened like this: One fall when we had caught a great many fish, a young
man wanted to buy some; but we had already sold all we could spare. Since
I couldn’t give him any, he became angry and had me “grand-medicined.” I
was going to sleep when I saw him; his mouth was bloody. People said I was
asleep; but I saw the man come. He tried to throw me into a hole in the
ground from which I knew I should never have escaped, had he succeeded. I
was out of my mind for a long time. When I came to, a man, a near relative
said, “Don’t you think there is somebody doing something to you?” I knew
very well who was doing it; it was an old man. I knew the old man who was
doing this to me; but that young man had paid him to do it. This old relative
said, “I am going to that old man and ask whether he feels justified in doing
that to you just because somebody else hired him to do it!” He went; and
everything came out all right. They gave me medicine to fumigate my head
and after that I was well. When anyone is fumigated, herbs are placed on
heated stones in a little wigwam. The person then crawls into this hut. Some-
times herbs are put on hot stones in the house and a blanket thrown over the
head, allowing the fumes to be inhaled. The old medicine man later came and
gave me a shawl and said, “You will be all right from now on.” That same
fall that old man died.

A L’Anse informant had heard of medicine men who charmed a
fly, identified themselves with it, and traveled in the form of a fly.

A long time ago [he said] one party at war with another put up a defense
of brush and lined it with hides. A medicine man cut a hole about 8 inches

| Hinerr] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 15

in diameter into the hide, and then by means of his “medicine” gradually made
himself into a fly with feet so small that they were only 1% inches long. He
crawled through the hole to the enemy’s side, discovered their location and
‘plans, returned through the hole, and gradually took over the form and size
‘of a man again.

. It is firmly believed that injury done by a medicine man or medicine
‘woman can be undone by one with greater power. A L’Anse in-
formant had had the following experience:

]

| Some years ago I landed a boat full of fish every morning. One morning
some fellow came along and talked about my good luck. While we were taking
fish out of our nets—I had 30 nets—he saw a big whitefish and asked if he
might have it. I let him take it. That fellow spoiled my fishing! I couldn’t
get any more fish after that. Well, one day when we were out on the lake we
pulled up to the shore where some of my wife’s relatives lived, and went there
,for something to eat. The man said, “I suppose you get plenty fish.” “No”,
I said, “not any more.” And I told him the story of the whitefish. “Never
mind,” he said, “‘we’ll fix him.” And he took a half pailful of lukewarm water,
‘washed the “bad medicine” off my nets, and hung them up. When they were
‘dry he said, “Set out one net and you'll catch one whitefish, an unusual white-
‘fish. Clean it very carefully, put the scales into some water, and then wash
,your nets in that water. Take the big whitefish and eat all of it with your
family.” I took the net and set it. We caught the big whitefish, only it looked
‘somewhat red. My wife baked it in the oven, and she and I, the old man, and
‘my two children ate all of that big whitefish! [His wife interjected: “It was
a pretty hard thing to do, it was such a big fish.”] “Never mind; we'll get that
fellow yet,” said the old man. He told me to sink 3 nets the next day, 6 the
following day, and keep doubling the number each day until all the 30 nets had
been sunk. And now I began catching fish again, and lots of them. It was
all due to this medicine man’s power being stronger than that other man’s.

“rrpl SHAKING”

Certain medicine men have shamanistic powers to discover factors
involved in past, present, or future events. “Since the shaman’s in-
vestigations are connected with the tremor, or, at times, violent shak-
ing of a small dome-shaped wigwam (cisagi’kan), the name “tipl
shaking” (cisigi’kwin) has been applied to it. The shaking may be
in two opposing or in all four directions. Medicine men possessed
of this power were still extant on the reservations of Lac du Flambeau,
La Pointe, Vermilion, Red Lake, Lac Courte Orielle, Mille Lacs,
and Nett Lake in the summers of ethnological studies covered in this
work; there were none on the L’Anse nor on the White Earth reser-
vations, but persons on both reservations had engaged shamans so
endowed from other reservations to make discoveries for them.

The shaman with “tipi-shaking” powers was invariably an old
man. His communications with the spiritual world were carried on
only when in a small wigwam and when alone, after having smoked
and mediated. A Lac Courte Orielle informant had not only observed
“tipi shaking” but had helped to build a wigwam for his granduncle:

76 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLn. 146

My grandfather’s brother was a fake medicine man. He was asked to discover
whether a sick child was going to live or die. His sons and nephews were told
to build a tipi; we built a regular one of light poles 7 feet high and 4
feet in diameter. We tied the poles together and covered the tipi with blankets,
Some 12 feet from the tipi was a bonfire. Some men sat near it and beat
the drum. Halfway between the acting medicine man—in this case my grand-
father’s brother—sat down and smoked his long pipe. He sat on the ground with
the bow] of his pipe resting on the ground. His hands clutched the pipe stem,
his arms rested on his bent knees. He continued smoking his pipe and staring
before him at the ground, continually staring, while the others beat the drum,
Finally he said, “Everything is all right!’ meaning, he was ready to go into the
small tipi. He goes in, and in a few minutes things begin to rattle. Often there
are bells at the top of the tipi, and these begin to rattle. My great uncle went.
in and, as soon as things began to shake, the tipi went to pieces. We had pur-
posely constructed it carelessly, so as to annoy the old man. He was cross and
said, “Come, now, make a good one.” Next day we built one of poles so strong
that we were hardly able to bend the poles in order to tie them together. Now
the old fellow couldn’t make things go; things only quivered. He came out and |
said, “Spirits won’t come.” So another man who sat nearby was asked to go in. |
He didn’t want to, but finally he did; he was middle-aged. He made the thing
go because he was a powerful medicine man. He nearly shook it to the ground.
I knew that fellow ; he wasn’t so strong physically that he could shake that tipi!
We fellows who had made it, tried our level best to make it shake, but couldn’t
move it. This fellow made it shake! My grandfather’s brother had failed, for
he was a fake. This fellow said the girl would live, and in 2 days she was up
and around.

Another time I saw a medicine man work. Two medicine tipis were built not
far apart. The same strong man that acted in the ease of the sick girl
was to occupy one, and another man, the other. The first one refused to act.
The second man came and said he would try. They beat the drum, and he
smoked, and thought, and studied, gazing on the ground. Then, raising him-
self up, “It is all right; we can start.” He crept on hands and feet for 5 feet
to the tipis. He took off his shirt, tucked it in one tipi, and went into the other.
Both tipis began to shake and sway from side to side. The purpose was to find
out whether a certain person was going to live or die, and what medicine should
be used. [Hilger, 1936 c, pp. 4647.] *

A Midé’wiwin woman on the same reservation, approved of the
above account, and added, “The wigwam in which a medicine man
talks with the spirits is open at the top. The spirits enter and leave
through this opening.”

An old L’Anse informant remembered well the days when there
were powerful medicine men. When still young he assisted in the
building of a shaman’s wigwam:

One winter in January we heard my mother’s father was sick. My mother was
greatly worried, but she couldn’t go to see him for it was cold; the snow was
deep and there was no trail. We lived where the road comes down to Rabbit’s
Bay. An old medicine man said to my mother, ‘You give me tobacco, and I’ll find
out how your father is getting along.” He ordered five or six of us boys to build

* Cf. Hallowell (1942 b) for an over-all account of conjuring among the Saulteaux of
Berens River, Manitoba, a branch of the Ojibwa-speaking peoples. Cf. also Hallowell
(1940 b).

Tienr] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE rir

wigwam. We built a solid one! We took 12 poles, set them in a circle about 2
eet into the ground, tied other poles solidly around these and covered all with
‘anvas. The medicine man went in and took with him a buckskin drum. The
Ider people sat close to the wigwam; but we boys had to go about 5 feet away.
bout 9 o’clock at night the old man began to sing. (We laughed; but mother
iaid, “Be quiet!”) Soon the tipi began to shake, first slowly, and then faster
ind faster, swinging from one side to the other ; suddenly it stopped with a thump.
“he spirit, Owacagab0’wis, had come to talk to the medicine man. We could hear
tifferent voices. One asked the old man, “Why do you want me?” “I want his
soul.” (He meant my grandpa’s soul.) In a moment the tipi began to shake
igain, just like before, and again it stopped with a thump. Then we could hear
ny grandfather talk; his voice was weak and it sounded hungry. Some boys in
mur crowd said, “There is your grandfather.” Then the tipi shook again like
vefore, and that’s when the spirit left.”*

; A Lac du Flambeau interpreter had been an observer of several
‘tipi shakings.” She told of two:

About 10 years ago, a woman gave a hide and some tobacco to a medicine man
isking him to make inquiries about her daughter in Oklahoma. He didso. Sud-
lenly the tipi began to shake; we could hear various noises and several voices!
[he fellow must have changed his voice! He came out of his tipi and said:
‘Your daughter is all right; in a few days you will see her.” And sure enough,
n two days the girl came home! I saw another “tipi shaking,” about 8 years ago,
vhile I was interpreter for a Winnebago woman who wanted to talk to a Chippewa
nedicine man but couldn’t speak our language. I told the medicine man that she
vould give him three ponies, two boxes of maple sugar, four pairs of blankets,
wo beautiful shawls, and a man’s suit, if he would discover for her whether or
ot she’d be cured of her illness. He did all the necessary things and went into
lis little wigwam. When he came out he told her that she’d be cured. But that
vas a big “fib” for she died a few years after!

On the White Earth Reservation two small children had died within
. brief period of time in 1938. “So the father got a medicine man
rom Mille Lacs Reservation to shake his tipi and was told that the
ault lay in his not having joined the Midé’wiwin.” A young woman
n the Red Lake Reservation had seen her grandfather, a grand medi-
ine man and “tipi shaker,” “crawl into a small tent into which he called
he spirit of a man upon whom he was exercising revenge for another
nan. This other man had hired him to do so. My grandfather had
owers to cause the man on whom he was exercising revenge either not
o wake up again some morning or to make his mouth crooked. He had
ower, too, to make white men’s mouths crooked but he never used it.”

A Lac Courte Orielle interpreter contributed the following:

A medicine man may be called on, day or night, to discover the cause and the
ure of some internal disease. The sick man is placed on a mat outside the small
yigwam in which the medicine man is exercising his powers. All during the
eremony some one on the outside beats the drum. It is absolutely necessary that

he wigwam sway back and forth, for, without it, the procedure is ineffective.
S$ soon as the tipi shakes—which indicates that the spirits are in the wigwam—

1Cf. also Flannery (1940, pp. 14-18) for good account on beliefs related to conjuring.

78 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buu. 146

the medicine man asks the persons on the outside who are interested in the sick
man what they wish to know. The spirits on the inside answer. One can hear)
them talking but only the man in the wigwam usually understands the language, |
for only occasionally do the spirits speak Chippewa. The voices sound like those
of a large crowd. It’s these spirits that make the wigwam sway. We call this
“tipi shakes.” Long ago the swaying was so Violent that the wigwam touched —
the ground from side to side. If many spirits come into the wigwam, the medicine
man comes out tired and weak. In the early days the medicine man performed
ceremonies similar to the ones above to discover whether it was safe to break

camp.
BELIEF IN LIFE AFTER DEATH

LIFE AFTER DEATH

Not only is the Chippewa belief in life after death evidenced in their
burial and mourning customs, but there exists a tradition among them
that after death their spirits go westward “to where the sun sets,” “to
the camping grounds of eternal bliss and happiness,” to cibi’odena
(spirit town or happy home). Nonmembers of the Midé’wiwin live
outside cibi’odéna and have only-bark as food. Ata burial, as the body
of a Midé’wiwin is lowered, the attending medicine man says: “Do not
look back. Keep going until you arrive at the camping grounds of our
fathers and grandfathers and parents, where you will enjoy everlast-
ing happiness.”

DEATH

Formerly when death was imminent, the dying person—adult or
child—was clothed in his best buckskin clothes including moccasins,
and his body decorated with Indian paint. Some were known to have
been buried with trophies and war awards hung about the neck.
Today, death usually, but not always, has occurred before the body is
dressed for burial. When ready for burial both hat and shoes are
worn. In 1930 an old Red Lake man was dressed for burial “in his
dancing clothes, feather bonnet, and moccasins.”

Immediately following the death of a Midé’ relative at which a Lac
du Flambeau interpreter was present in 1935, the Midé drum was
brought in. It was placed close to the dead woman, all women pres-
ent dancing around the body in step with the beat of the drum.

If it had been a man, the men should have done so. After the women had
danced awhile, they talked to the body saying, “We will now let you go, because
your body has changed. Always take the right road; don’t let the devil tempt
you. You will come to a river where you'll see a log; don’t cross it.—The log is
a snake.—Some one there will speak to you; but keep to the right-hand side. On
the opposite side there will be another person. He will reach out his hand
across to you. Give this person some tobacco.”—With a person are buried a little
sack of tobacco, four matches, and four small pieces of bread which are to last
for 4 days, that is until the end of the journey to eternity. Fire is also built for

2 Cf, also Hallowell (1940 b).

ILGHR] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 79

1e dead at the grave during the first 4 nights after death, the first night being
iat following the day of death; persons must be buried before sundown after
eath.—“Then you will come to a hill,” these women continued. “You will
ear beautiful sounds of dancing and singing. You will see your dead relatives.
hey will inquire about the people who are still living. Tell them we are not
2ady to come.”” And the women repeated this until burial time.

Informants recalled hearing death announced by the shooting of
gun. They were unable, however, to tell the manner of doing so
efore guns were introduced. “If anyone died in our band,” said a
ac Courte Orielle informant “a gun was shot three times. At Oda-
ah (La Pointe Reservation) guns were shot five or six times. This
lea originated with the Chippewa; they didn’t get it from the white
eople.” An interpreter, while still a child living on Leech Lake
Minnesota), related that one morning her family heard repeated
unshots.

Soon a man came into my father’s trading store. His forehead and his body
hich was naked to the waistline had been blackened. Each arm was pierced
ith a stick, about the size of an all-day sucker. Rope had been passed between
1e protruding ends of the sticks and the arms, tied together in a knot, and
lowed to hang down. I was much frightened and ran into my mother’s room,

ut she assured me that the man was only mourning; that his little boy had
ied during the night.

Body mutilation as an expression of sorrow at death is not tradi-
ional among the Chippewa. Most informants on all reservations
2emed surprised when asked this question. However, several Red
ake women had legs well scarred with slashes made while mourning.
hippewa were taught not to weep at death, not even at the death of
earest relatives. “Old Indians advised women not to weep even
t the loss of a child, for this action might be visited on the next child.”
Indians were told not to weep in presence of ethers when death oc-
urred in the family. Their weeping was to be done while sitting near
tree or a rock: its manito would soothe them and console them.”
In order to ward off the spirit of a person just departed, not only
slatives but other persons also blackened their faces with charcoal
r soot, but without design. “When anyone died my mother put char-
oal marks on my face so that the spirit of the dead person would not
ome near me.” A L’Anse interpreter told the following:

One time I was called to a young woman dying of blood poisoning. The
‘oman said, “I am going soon. I won’t stay long. I am sorry I can’t take my
aby.” Toward midnight I wanted to go home. I was very tired and other
‘omen were there. But I was afraid to go, for when I told her I was going
nd that I would return in the morning, she said, “When you go, I am going
ith you.” At about three o’clock in the morning she died. I went to tell an
id woman who was in the kitchen and she at once went to the teakettle, rubbed

er hand across the bottom of the teakettle, and blackened the forehead of the
ying woman’s child and of two other small children who belonged to two of

80 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 146

the women present. One of the women noted that the old Indians believed that
when an Indian dies two others will soon follow him; now it wouldn’t be any
of these three children, for they had their faces blackened. [Hilger, 1936 a, pp. |
23-24. ]

INTERMENT

The remains of a departed one were kept in the home until burial,
which took place before sunset on the day of death. Immediately
preceding the removal of the body relatives spoke to it. This custom
maintains today. “My deceased daughter’s pagan husband leaned
over my deceased daughter just before we closed the coffin and talked
so feelingly to her, and promised her that he would have their daugh-
ter raised a Catholic.”

In old days bodies were flexed “with knees pulled up toward chest.”
It seemed befitting that persons should leave this earth in the position
in which they were when they came into it, “the position they were in
when in their mother’s body.” Arms were extended lengthwise on
either side. Food and cooking utensils were then placed near the
body and all was wrapped into birchbark and held in position by being
tied with cords of basswood fiber. The body was placed in the grave
in a sitting position, the top of the birchbark “casket” being from
5 to 10 inches below the surface of the earth. At times the bottom
of the grave was lined with a bulrush mat. Often useful implements
were also placed around the wrappings after the body had been placed
in the grave, the belief being that the spirit of all objects enclosed
in the grave would travel with the dead person on his journey to the
hereafter. Since there is great difficulty in obtaining large pieces
of birchbark today the Red Lake man buried in 1930 (p. 78) was not
wrapped in birchbark but was placed in a sitting position in a box
made of lumber. His burial faced north. With him were buried
dried meat, berries, bread, wild rice, anda frying pan. An old woman
informant in the same area had buried five of her family near her
home, all in flexed positions, “with knees near chest and arms straight
down the sides.” All of her burials faced north. She had not heard
why Indians should be buried facing north. “But all do,” she added.?*

On the Lac Courte Orielle Reservation burials faced all directions,
informants there being unaware that burials anywhere among the
Chippewa faced only one direction. In one of the Midé’wiwin ceme-
teries on their reservation, all bodies faced east (pl. 7,2).

On the Lac du Flambeau and Lac Courte Orielle Reservations im-
mediately after the body of a wife or husband had been lowered into
the grave, the living partner walked across a plank of wood—or if

* Hallowell’s informants said of Saulteaux burials: “The head is placed to the north,
but the body is said to be ‘facing the south’.” It was thought that life after death was
spent somewhere in the south. (Hallowell, 1940 b, p. 34.)

HILGRE] sm CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 81
none was available, a planed tree trunk—that had been placed over
the grave, signifying thereby “that they were letting the dead partner
go, but that they were not yet ready to go.” An interpreter was told
at a funeral of a man that his widow meant to show thereby “that
she had gone as far as she could go with her husband. I have often
seen this done by womeh but never by men,” she added. Before the
grave was closed, those attending the funeral danced around it three
times giving the spirit a start on its way to the hereafter. A very
old Mille Lacs informant said that “the burial ceremony was the
same for children as for adults. Food was given to both. The belief
was that the dead person was going on some journey or trip, and had
to have clothes and food. He was buried in new or clean clothes.
Two little bags made of flour sacks or muslin were laid near the body
while it was laid out, and were later put into the grave. One con-
tained tools, like a jackknife, and other things that a person carries;
the other, food, like wild rice, etc. There was no ceremony in the
cemetery. The wife did not walk around the grave nor across a
plank laid over the grave of her husband. For four nights after
the burial, no matter how cold it was, relatives had to keep fires
burning at the head end of the grave. I don’t know the reason for
burning it at the head end. The hole in the grave cover is also always
at the head end.” .

An induced aborted fetus was buried under the floor of the wigwam
in which the woman lived (p. 11). A spontaneously aborted one or
a child stillborn was buried in the same manner as a mature person.
“I know of a fetus that was only 2 months old. We gave a feast,
wrapped it in birchbark, and buried it a little below the surface of
the earth. Then we covered it over with earth, put birchbark on
top of this, and weighted it down with poles.and rocks. I remember
two other burials, one of a fetus 3 months old and the other 4
months old.”

Jenness records the following:

Whether or not death occurred naturally made no difference in the manner
of burial. - Only for a still-born babe were there special rites, because its failure
to live was attributed either to sorcery, or to Some wrongdoing on the part of
the mother, and the latter, being always suspect, had to seek forgiveness from
the Great Spirit and from her kinsfolk. The corpse was, therefore, deposited
in the hollow of a stump for 9 days, and each day at the hour of birth the
mother walked nine times around its resting place. At the end of 9 days the
grave was opened. If the corpse had disappeared, as sometimes happened,
the Indians believed that it had perished completely, body, soul, and shadow;
but if it had not disappeared they interred it without ceremony in the woods.
[Jenness, 1935, p. 105.]

There were no wills, but a woman might indicate before death per-
sons to whom she wished her personal belongings to be given. If she

884216—51——7

82 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 146

had not expressed her wish, all her belongings were placed in a
container and at the end of a year distributed either to her children,
near women relatives, or particular friends. Occasionally, today, im-
mediately after the funeral, personal belongings of the deceased are
burnt, but always in an open fire outdoors. Traditionally, the fam-
ily of the deceased gave a feast soon after burial. This custom still
survives in some families. An interpreter’s aunt had given “a big
feast after every death in her family, a feast of doughnuts, cake and
everything good to eat.”

Three old women who had been present at burials between Redby
and Red Lake (villages on Red Lake Reservation) and who were also
present when the remains were removed (removals were made to
permit the building of a highway), identified the graves as those of
a chief, of two other men, of a little girl, of an old and of a young
woman. All skeletons were found wrapped and tied in birchbark
in sitting positions with knees drawn to chest and hands extending
straight downward on sides. All bodies faced Red Lake (north). The
graves were 4 feet in length and were covered with 114 feet of earth;
over each rested a small wooden house. Among the remains were
found pails, parts of forks, knives and spoons, two pipes, a tomahawk,
beads, a mirror, and a large silver medal. One of the old women,
the wife of the exhumed chief, remarked that a big dance had been
held when he was buried and that with his remains would be found
a medal given to his father by a United States President, his father
having been one of the first Chippewa who in a body went to see the
President. The medal was found as she predicted (Hilger, 1935 c,
pp. 3821-323).

GRAVES

The old custom of covering graves with small mounds of dirt over-
- laid with poles, brushes, birchbark, or rush mats, survived on several
reservations covered in this study. Substitutes for coverings on other
graves were pieces of cotton cloth, oilcloth, or tar paper weighted
down on corners and edges with small stones. “I can’t bear to see my
graves uncovered ; they seem so naked and cold.” (Cf. pl. 9,2, and 4.)

On every reservation except L’Anse graves were also covered with
small wooden houses. Some consisted of four sides and a gabled roof,
or of four sides and a flat roof (pls. 7, 8, 9) ; others of only a gabled
roof. A gable-roofed cover located 50 feet from a home on Vermilion
Lake (1989) was 50 inches long and 24 inches high. The roof was
covered with tin; the front and back, painted white. A small box,
10 by 41% inches and 61% inches high, was attached to the end facing
the lake and served as a deposit box for food for the dead. The front
of the box served as a door which could be closed by means of a latch
made by fastening a bent nail over a tack. The house was enclosed,

Hinenr] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 83

on all but the lake side, with a fence made of 3-foot posts crossed by
poles. A 9-foot pole was planted to the front and right of the grave,
facing it. “A small rag is sometimes attached to the top of it so that
people may know that it is a new grave.” The grave was that of an
8-month-old baby buried in 1934. On the Lac Courte Orielle Reser-
vation clothes of one recently buried were often hung on the top of a
pole near the grave. “The dress you saw hanging from the top of
the 20-foot pole near a grave on the Couderay River belonged to my
12-year-old deceased sister,” said an informant.

Each grave house in a Midé’wiwin cemetery on the Lac Courte
Orielle Reservation had a 3 x 5-inch opening at the foot end or east
end of the grave (pl. 7, 3). On a ledge nailed directly below the
opening on many of these houses rested empty dishes, small vases,
or sandwich-spread jars. Dilapidation of two houses permitted birch-
bark coverings weighted down with stones to be seen.

A grave marker (0démiwa’tik) made of a small piece of wood with
representation of the d6’dam of the buried person either drawn or
carved upon it was seen at either the foot or the head end of several
graves. The do’dam emblem was often inverted. One such marker
of cedar wood on the Lac Courte Orielle Reservation had an outline
of a bear carved into it, with head toward ground and tail toward sky.
The portion showing above the ground was 3 x 8 inches. All graves in
a cemetery on Mille Lacs Reservation were marked, markers ranging
in size from 2 x 6 to 4 x 12 inches (pl. 9, 4). Two of these markers,
one engraved with an eagle in flight and another with a bird at rest,
were not inverted; the following were inverted (head toward earth
and tail toward sky): bullhead, beaver, weasel, bear, fox, and elk.
One group of graves in this cemetery contained the remains of a man,
his wife, and their two sons, all of whom had been killed in automobile
accidents in 1939 and 1940. At the head end of the graves of the
father and the two boys, a bullhead do’dam marker had been placed;
at the mother’s, a beaver. “My father makes do’dam markers without
being asked and does not charge for them. He merely makes them
and puts them at the graves. There are others around here who make
them also.”

OFFERINGS FOR THE DEAD (CIBENAKI WIN)

For several days after a burial relatives offered food at the grave
and kept a fire burning there, the belief being that the spirit of the
fire was being used by the deceased in the preparation of the food
while the soul was on its journey. In some communities on the Red
Lake Reservation the fire was kept burning for 3 successive days
and nights: “When a man dies his wife keeps a fire burning near his
grave for 3 days and 3 nights; it takes that long to reach the here-

84 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 146

after. When a woman dies her husband does the same for her. When
a child dies, both father and mother keep the fire burning.” In other
communities on the same reservation the fire was kept lighted only
during the first three successive nights after burial and not during
daytime: “I often saw relatives build a fire near their new grave the
first three nights after burial. They believed that the food that had
been buried with the dead person was being cooked by him on his
way to the resting place; it took three nights to go there.” On the Lac
Courte Orielle Reservation the fire was kept burning four successive
nights, “for it takes four days and four nights to go to the other
world.” Charcoal remains, 114 feet in diameter, were seen near a
recent grave on the Mille Lacs Reservation.

Offerings for the dead consist today as formerly of maple sugar,
wild rice, wearing apparel, or anything that is treasured. These are
not only placed on graves immediately after burial but at any time of
the year, and for many years after death. “It’s the best food, or the
best of anything they have that they put on the graves of their dead.”
Food thus offered is never eaten by persons depositing it. It may be
eaten by persons who find it or by persons who are invited to do so.
“When we were children we used to run around to different graves in
search of maple-sugar cakes.”** On the Lac du Flambeau Reservation,
in midsummer of 1935, an old woman, her daughter, and two small
children, entered a cemetery, plucked weeds off the grave of the old
woman’s son, a war veteran, and also from the path surrounding it,
sat down near the grave, unpacked food, placed some on the grave, and
ate the remainder. At the end of the repast they shot off several fire-
crackers, and then left in their automobile. After a half hour they
returned, dropped three boys, about 10 years of age, waited in their car
until they were certain that the boys had gathered the food left on the
grave, and then drove off. The boys returned leisurely, two eating an
orange each and the third an individual pie; cracker-jack boxes filled
their pockets. “Those people picked us up near the store and brought
us over here to get the food,” they said. “We are cousins of those kids
in the car, that’s why they picked us up; but they could have picked
up anybody.”

BURIALS

Cemeteries with many burials were found near permanent village
sites and also near Midé’wiwin wigwams. Burials of smaller groups,
five to eight graves, were often seen near homes in various parts of the
reservations (pls. 8,2; 7, 1).

24 According to Hallowell (1940 b, pp. 36-37) the Saulteaux made offerings to the dead
and later collected them in order to maintain a certain relationship with deceased relatives
and to enable the dead to continue the tradition of hospitality and of sharing with others
Something they had been accustomed to do in life.

Hinenr] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 85

About 100 feet from a group of homes of related families, among
them the home of the interpreter, on the Mille Lacs Reservation, were
13 graves. Burials included the maternal great-grandparents, broth-
ers and sisters, and children of the interpreter. Flat-topped boxes
made of lumber rested on 11 of the graves; 2 were encircled with stones
about the size of a man’s fist. All boxes faced south of Mille Lacs Lake.
A 2 x 4-inch hole had been cut in the south end of each box. Several
boxes were so dilapidated that birchbark coverings could be seen
resting upon the burials.

No scaffold or tree burials (6gad0’ ciba’mik), traditional modes of
disposal of bodies, were seen on any reservation, nor were any recent
burials of this type known to either informants or interpreters. In-
formants remembered well, however, when bodies were thus disposed
of. In the early days remains so deposited were wrapped in birch-
bark; in more recent days they rested in home-made coffins. <A scaf-
fold consisted of a rectangular framework of saplings resting on four
upright poles that had been securely planted in the ground. A Red
Lake interpreter remembered well as a child playing near places
“where bodies in coffins of boards lay up high on stilts or in trees.
The bodies were never removed from these places and the smell was
terrible, terrible!” Parents of informants on the same reservation
“used to speak of painting dead persons as though they were preparing
to go to a dance, and then wrapping them, first in a blanket and then in
birchbark, and putting them up in trees, half lying and half sitting
down. They hung an entire cooking outfit and something to eat on
the tree for the first 3 nights. It was their belief that a person
had to make three stops on his way to the other side, to the place the
Whites call “the Indians’ happy hunting ground.” “I saw rough boxes
with dead bodies on four poles and kettles hanging on the poles, when
I was a child,” said a White Earth informant. An old Mille Lacs
woman remembered seeing burials on scaffolds: Bodies were wrapped
in birchbark or blankets and placed on four poles erected close to-
gether and about one foot from the ground. “An island in Sandy
Lake was the burial ground for all the Indians in this area,” she
added. “My mother used to say that you could go over there and
see bones on the ground in many, many places. And we know these
things to be true, because people saw them.”

Mounds on the Lac Courte Orielle Reservation are considered burial
places of very early times. Old Indians had repeatedly heard their
elders say that the Odawa’, sometimes called the Dawasa’gon, built
them “long, long ago. We always believed that these mounds were
their wigwams, that they lived in them, and died in them during star-
vation times. At Old Post some mounds were opened some years ago
when a cellar was dug. The bones found in them were those of large

86 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 146

people. At Old Post, too, a white pine, a yard in diameter, is growing
on a mound; that must tell something about its age.” Erosion of the
hind leg of a bear effigy mound takes place in heavy rainfalls, often
causing arrowheads to be washed out. To the northeast of this mound
is an oval-shaped pit about 12 feet deep; in the center of it is a bed of
charcoal,

MOURNING

The period of mourning lasted for a year or less (nétaki’win). It
was customary for all in mourning to dress carelessly and allow the
hair to hang loose and disheveled. On the Lac Courte Orielle, the
Lac du Flambeau, and the Mille Lacs Reservations mourners had been
seen carrying a doll-like bundle of cloth, or merely a bundle formed
by rolling cloth around a dish (wiwapi’djigan). At timesa few hairs
of the deceased person were enclosed. Such a bundle was seen at Flam-
beau (Lac du Flambeau Reservation) in 1935; on the Mille Lacs Res-
ervation in 1939. A Lac Courte Orielle informant related the
following :

If a pagan (Midé’) man’s wife dies, he carries on his back a dish wrapped in
a bundle shaped like a person; but if his child dies, he carries a dish without a
bundle (6na’kain) anywhere on his person. Should he be eating a meal when
visitors arrive, he will place food on the dish and offer it to one of the visitors.
A year after death, he’ll give a feast at which he will present some article to
each guest. This custom releases him from mourning. My aunt who is a pagan
carried a bundle with a dish, after her husband died. I told her that in these
days she didn’t have to carry that dish, but she replied that it was their custom.
At a feast she gave away quilts, blankets, and moccasins that had taken her the
entire year to prepare.

An interpreter on the same Reservation gave the following account:

My step-grandmother must have had many detiths in her family, for I never
saw her unless she was carrying a babylike form or bundle. In the bundle was
a dish. When anyone died she was asked if she wanted to do this. If she did
not she was released. If she said yes, she carried the bundle with her for a
year. When visiting, she set the bundle down, opened it, took out the dish, and
ate from it. This was a tin dish. Besides the tin dish the bundle contained
something that the dead person had liked, such as a pair of moccasins. A year
after the death, everything that the dead person had owned was given away.
This was done for deceased near relatives including grandchildren. The pagans
stilldo this. [Hilger, 1936 ¢, p. 40.]

A 16-year-old Mille Lacs girl had seen persons carrying a small bun-
dle during the year of mourning: “My mother did not carry one when
my father died, but she did when my little brother died. There is no
hair of the deceased in the bundle, but only a dish and a spoon. These
are wrapped in some piece of cloth and carried in the arm, not on the
back. At mealtime food is put on the plate.”

Formerly for one year following a death all the members of the
deceased person’s family were not permitted to participate in seasonal

HItcnR] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 87

occupations, such as production of maple sugar, gathering of wild rice
or berries or garden vegetables, or hunting or fishing, unless someone
fed them a portion of the food being gathered. After having eaten
from the hands of another, the mourners gave a feast and were thereby
released from the taboo. “When my little girl died, my mother gath-
ered vegetables of every. kind from the garden, cooked them in her own
home, and brought them to me to eat. After this I could gather my
own vegetables. She also picked berries of every kind, green ones of
those that hadn’t begun to ripen mixing them with ripe ones, and
offered them to me to eat also. After this I picked my own berries.”

If the taboo on food gathering was violated, all things produced by
nature died, or “something happened to them—grasshoppers or worms,
or disease took them.” An aged Lac Courte Orielle informant was
certain that the flagrant violations of this taboo and of the one which
forbade menstruating women to participate in the same food-produc-
ing activities (pp. 52-53) was the reason, and the only reason, for the
lessening within recent years of all growth productive of Indian foods,
such as maple trees, berries of all sorts, wild rice, gardens, fish, and
other animals. She added:

Whenever a man lost his wife or a woman her husband, in the old day, the
person left behind could not gather nor eat anything like venison, fish, sirup,
berries of any kind, nor wild rice, until a feast was given at which they were fed.
This gave them the privilege of again gathering and eating these things. If
they had ignored this custom and fed themselves, they could reasonably have
expected that the berries would be eaten by the birds, that the rice would have
been shaken off by a storm, and that everything would have gone to nothing.

An interpreter at L’Anse had had the following experience:

One time a woman who was still in mourning period came to visit me. We
were in the orchard and she admired the apples. I said she might have the
apples. She wanted me to pick them, but I insisted that she would have to do
that. After much talking she came the next day and picked the apples. She
told me that the tree would die; and it died the next year. The old belief is
that anything touched by a mourning person dies. [Hilger, 1936 a, p. 22.]

Pronouncing the name of one’s deceased parents and their brothers
and sisters, one’s own brothers and sisters, and one’s children was taboo
for all times. ‘My mother never pronounced my deceased sister’s
name, but always spoke of her as, “The one that is no more,’ or ‘The one
that died.’” One constantly heard informants and interpreters speak
of their “deceased” relatives.

HEALTH MBASURES

Curative powers and procedures were of two types: those closely
bound up with shamanistic powers (midé’win) and those primarily
secular in nature in which curative measures had intrinsic value.
Knowledge of the first type, and some phases of the second, had their

88 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 146

origin in prepuberty dreams (pp. 39-49). Those possessing such
knowledge and exercising it either had obtained it themselves during
their own fasts and dreams or had purchased it from someone who
had been so favored. Shamanistic procedures, however, were known
to only a few persons. Knowledge of intrinsic value of herbs, bark,
roots, tattooing (aga’sdwin), and bloodletting (pa’paicdang), on
the contrary, was held by many: it was specialized knowledge, to some
extent, for persons had knowledge only of certain herbs that cured
certain diseases. Some were adept in bloodletting, others in tattoo-
ing. Preventive measures were known to all.

SHAMANISTIC POWERS

Shamanistic powers were applied not only when the occasion for
the disease was ascribed to evil powers but also when it was considered
due to natural causes (pp. 88-90). If the cause was thought to be a
natural one, the remedies found in nature were applied; if no cure
resulted, a medicine man was summoned. In more recent times, if
the patient shows no improvement after both natural and shamanistic
treatments have been applied an American licensed physician may be
called upon. If foul play is suspected a “tipi shaker” may be hired
to discover not only the cause but the type of cure and the possibilities
of a recovery (pp. 75-78).

Preparatory to exerting his supernatural powers, a shaman took
a sweat bath (mad6d0’son) in a low, circular, dome-shaped wigwam
(madodo’swan). When exercising his power he usually beat a special
drum (cigi’gwan), sang special songs, breathed upon or blew at the
affected part of the person and sucked it through several hollow bone
tubes made from leg bones of fowl (6d6ka’nigan) (leg bones of geese
being preferred because of their length). He finally swallowed the
bones, and then ejected them (cf. also Densmore, 1910, pp. 119-125).

A drum used for shamanistic cures on the Red Lake Reservation
had been made by stretching wet untanned deer hide over both sides
of a band of wood 7 inches in diameter and 2 inches in depth. The
two pieces of hide were sewed together around the band with sinew
and after drying formed taut drumheads. In the interior were two
cross sections about one-half inch in thickness of a long bone of a
large animal. “Any bone that was about 2 inches in diameter and
that had contained marrow could be used.” The drum could either
be beaten with two small drumsticks or used as a rattle.

A Red Lake informant had seen a medicine man blow on the affected
area of a man’s body through two hollow leg bones of a fowl.

He blew furiously at it; you can’t imagine how hard he blew! ‘Then he

swallowed the two bones—swallowed them right down into his body, he didn’t
keep them in his mouth—took the drum and rattling it repeatedly struck his

Hinenr] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 89

breast and his back between the shoulders with it, coughed up one of the bones
and ejected it into a little dish, and soon he spat out the other. This is the
truth. And that fellow treats all diseases that way.

Some 20 years ago I and my mother were caught in a snowstorm, [remarked
a Red Lake interpreter]. So we stopped at an Indian home on the road and
asked to stay over night. The old man, the owner of the home, was sick in his
floor bed but he welcomed us and said he was sorry he couldn’t feed our horses.
I and my mother attended to our horses, ate our supper, and laid down to sleep.
During the night we heard sleigh bells; soon an Indian walked into the house.
It was an old lady. She had come a long way. She told the old man that her
son hadn’t slept for 3 days and 3 nights; that he had been struck by a tree he
was felling, and that splinters had entered his ear. The American doctor who
lived right near them had been unable to remove them, and would the old man
please do something for the boy. The son was brought in. The old man addressed
the splinters in a speech ordering them to leave the young man’s ear as Jonah
had left the belly of the whale. While he beat the drum, he ordered his old
woman to bring him a bundle. He carefully unwrapped this and from it took
several hollow bones through which he blew into the young man’s ear several
times. He then asked for a dish, and presented the mother with the splinters.
After this the boy fell sound asleep.

An old L’Anse man and his wife related the following:

One day while we were fishing, we stopped at a relative’s for a meal. My old
woman had suffered from a toothache for some time. The relative who was a
medicine man asked her to lie on a bulrush mat on the floor, with the sore side
of her face toward the ceiling. (I was sitting there watching him.) He then
covered her face with a clean cloth, sat down near her, and began to beat his
drum and to sing. Then he swallowed three bones. Soon I heard a noise like
a crane, and I looked out across the lake to see the bird. After a little while
I heard the same sound, and I was puzzled again; but an old woman who was
in the room pointed at the medicine man to let me know that it was he who
was making the noise. And then I heard a noise for the third time and here
he was, coughing up the other bone. He had asked for a clean saucer containing
some water and in it he now had three small worms. [His wife added, “Yes,
that’s true, and each worm was black at both ends, and about so big’’—indicating
their size by pressing the tip of her small finger between her two thumbnails.]

The following was related on the Lac Courte Orielle Reservation:

Suppose there is something wrong in the chest or some part of the body. You
call in the medicine man. He has bones of a bird, for example, a goose, the
largest ones of which are probably 2 inches long. He will have two or three
of these bones, cleaned and smoothed. When he is ready to perform on the
patient, he puts the bones into a dish of clean water. One by one, he puts them
into his mouth and swallows them. He then puts his mouth on the chest, or on
the bare skin of the sick part, and one by one he will cough up the bones. He
sucks the sick part through the bones, and sometimes worms or whatever causes
the sickness, appear. [Hilger, 1936 c, pp. 45-46.]

The same informant had witnessed the “killing” of the cause of a
disease :
One time at Long Lake many Indians were gathering rice. They were camping

across the bay. They had a drum. We used to go over at night to watch them,
and to dance. Old Omazig was their speaker. He was a brave. He made a

90 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 146

speech. A girl was sick and was getting worse. This old speaker said, “We are
going to kill the cause of the disease which troubles her.” He gave no explana-
tion of how he was going to do this. He simply said, “In the morning you will
know.” Early next morning at sunrise—it was foggy—we heard a big noise
across the bay; then a gun shot. We wondered if there was some truth in what
the old man had said. Someone said that the people had fashioned bulrushes
into the shape of a person. Then they attributed the sickness, as it were, to the
statue. The noise we heard was made by the women, who, with hatchets, were
attacking the statue. The old speaker had shot at it with the gun but missed
it, and everybody laughed about it. The women chopped the statue into pieces.
The old fellow predicted the girl would get better, and she did. I was twenty-
five years old at that time. Yes, the old fellow missed that statue, and with a
shotgun at that! The shot scattered a considerable distance, and yet he missed
the figure! The man may have had poor eyesight, or perhaps the fog obscured
the target. [Hilger, 1936 ¢, p. 40.]

HERBS, ROOTS, BARK **

The administering of plant life, namely of herbs, roots, and bark,
was more widely known and practiced than were tattooing and blood-
letting. In order that herbs, roots, and bark be efficacious, the collec-
tor offered a small piece of plug tobacco (paki’djiwin). It was placed
in the ground “very near the plant, if an herb was gathered; right near
the trunk of a tree, if bark was gathered; and in the hole from
which the root was extracted, if a root was gathered.” Some Chip-
pewa not only offered tobacco while collecting herbs and roots, but
also smoked their pipes; some addressed prayers to the spirits in-
volved in plants they were gathering. “Before old people set out to
gather plants they cut plug tobacco into small pieces. They place
these as offerings in the ground wherever they dig up a root or
gather an herb. Their belief is that the better they pay, the more
efficacious the medicine will be. You can’t have anything for noth-
ing! In early days, when the old fellows brewed medicines, they
sang songs too.” A L’Anse man remarked that one day he and an
old fellow were coming from Copper Harbor :

On the way we saw some valuable roots. ‘“Let’s dig these up,” I said, “but
let’s offer tobacco first.” My friend laughed, and wouldn’t offer any. Well, I
began to dig; I offered tobacco every place I took a root. He, too, dug and found
a few at first; but in the second place in which he dug, a frog jumped up; and
the next place a lizard. That was enough; he stopped gathering them. But he
was served right!

“Indians who know the medicinal value of plant life consider this
knowledge personal and will not share it with anyone without good
pay,” remarked a Lac Courte Orielle interpreter. “They may give
decoctions brewed from herbs for little pay, but will not give know-
ledge of how and where to collect the plants unless they are well

*°Cf. also pages 10, 15, and 31 of the present study; Densmore (1928, pp. 299-305,
822-368) ; Smith (1982, pp. 848-892) ; and Reagan (1921 b, and 1928).

Hincre] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 91

paid.” Some knowledge regarding the medicinal value of plant life
cannot be bought at any price, and “dies with the one possessing it.”
(Cf. Preface.) Usually, however, parents or grandparents are will-
ing to transmit knowledge they possess to their children or grand-
children. Many informants remarked that such knowledge had come
to them from parents or grandparents. A Red Lake woman bought
the prescription for sore eyes, the name of a root, by paying the
owner “a blanket, a sap kettle (kettle used in making maple sugar),
a pair of fancy pillow cases, and yards of calico.” A Lac Courte
Orielle informant had paid tobacco, dry goods, quilts, buckskin, mats,
and kettles for information regarding medicinal decoctions. “I
wouldn’t think of asking for such information for nothing,” she added.

Medicinal knowledge, when purchased, included the ingredients
to be used, the direction for making the decoction, and the manner
of administering them; the method of inhaling herbal fumes or of
masticating roots or bark; and the songs used in preparation and
application, if such there were. If only the decoction was purchased,
the price, as noted before, was less; the “recipient probably payed
a little tobacco first, and then a piece of cloth.”

A La Pointe interpreter contributed the following prescription
applicable in cases of tuberculosis, or of any lung trouble:

Cut into pieces and boil in a gallon of water: (a) about 12 inches of the trunk
of saplings of each, pine, spruce, and ironwood, that have grown to the size of
your wrist; both bark and pulp are used; (b) two pieces of cherry-tree roots
(bawa’'imi mamazga’wac), about the length of your hand; (¢c) two hazelnut
roots (bagani’mic); and (d) 1 tablespoonful of bambilian buds (manaso’di),
Keep the decoction in a crock jar and drink a cupful at a time as often as thirst
requires, and also before going to bed. When all has been used, reboil the
ingredients, but a longer time than before. Reboiling can be done a third time,
but after that discard the material. Keep the tea in a cool place. I shall send
you any ingredients that you may need and cannot find, for we have all these
trees and roots right here on our reservation. This really benefits a person
when taken in time; I mean when taken in the first stages of lung trouble.

A Lac Courte Orielle informant after being presented with both
tobacco and calico for a dress, took the writer and an interpreter
through fields and woods, gathering the material for a prescription
used in treating “internal abdominal troubles” (pl. 30, 3). She
slashed a piece about 3 inches in length from the trunk of an iron-
wood tree. “Only the core of this, the yellow part is used,” she said,
“and this can be gathered at any time of the year. When used alone it
is good for pleurisy ; it also serves as a physic.” Then two chips of the
basswood tree, about the size of the palm of her hand, were got
from near the root of the tree, only the inner bark being used. Next
her hatchet severed two chips off the butternut tree, also the size of
the palm of her hand, but both outer and inner bark were collected.
She then added a chip of the slippery elm, and remarked, “And now

92 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 146

we'll have to find an old stump.” In our search for it she ran across
the false solomon seal and the “cat’s eye,” and dug up roots of both
of these. From a wild currant bush close by she cut a twig, and then
dug up a root of the maidenhair. We finally found a stump and
loosened from it the vine she knew would be growing on it. She took
the entire vine—root, vine, leaves, and flowers. “When used alone
this will bring about menstruation, if it fails to occur at the proper
time,” she remarked, “my daughter-in-law used it successfully.” She
searched in vain for the following plants which were essential to the
prescription: jabo’cigan, wisdgi’, djibik’, oko’dok, anicina’piko
djibik’, nabané’anikwéyak, micigi’ nimine’kwawic, and wabic ka’ki
wi cgagok. Had we intended to gather ingredients of the above pre-
scription for curative purposes, we should have had to offer tobacco at
each collection. “But,” said the informant, “since I did it only to show
you which plants to use and. how to find them, tobacco was not neces-
sary.” A few roots, however, had been gathered by the informant to
take home, since her supply of them was nearly exhausted. In these
instances she dug little holes with her hands, placed a small piece of
plug tobacco in each, covered it with dirt, and spoke to the plant
saying: “I'll take just a little for my use, and here is some tobacco
for you!” ‘The above ingredients were to be boiled in a gallon of
water and could be reboiled twice, each time, however, prolonging
the period of boiling.

Information regarding several commonly known remedies were
volunteered by informants: Skin eruptions are sponged with a decoc-
tion made by boiling strawberry roots and alum. Dried resin, ground
to powder, is dusted on skin sores. Chewing the root of sweet flag
(wibank’), gathered late in fall after growth has stopped, cures sore
throats. Decoctions of roots of wild celery is thought to cure tuber-
culosis; the leaves of “zens” stop sweating that occurs with colds;
flowers of the boneset, if picked “just before the frost sets in,” sub-
dues a fever; sturgeon potatoes (nama’pin), gathered in the fall when
they are filled with strength, cure heart trouble; mixing a root found
in swamps (mackw0d’ kawac) and catnip (naméwac’) revives fainting
persons or quickens weak heart beats.

One informant had medicinal knowledge of herbs “that are useful
in case of pleurisy, and can also be used as a cathartic.” Another
knew that “pine lumps” (pine knots) had medicinal value. Another,
born with weak eyes, had sight partially restored as a child by an
Indian doctor who used eye drops made “from something that looked
like green peas.” An interpreter’s mother had bought knowledge of
medicine for sore eyes which censisted of the inner bark of the root
of the wild rose and of an ingredient which she preferred not to tell.
Her friend made medicine by boiling the inner bark of the Juneberry

Hitenr] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 93

tree and a stick of some plant (this was secret knowledge) sliced into
four pieces. After boiling, the sticks must be burnt. “One-half a
cup of chopped potatoes boiled with pine lumps is good for earache.”
Earaches are also cured by blowing tobacco smoke directly from the
smoker’s mouth into the ear. Inhalations were made by placing
herbs on some heated object and catching the fumes under a blanket
that covered both the patient’s head and the heated object.

Several very old informants spoke of the days of smallpox epi-
demics. ‘The disease being unknown to the Indians, they had no cure
for it; remedies that it was hoped might help were applied without
success.

We had no cure for white men’s sickness like smallpox. I remember an
event of the smalipox time [said a Red Lake informant]. Some Canadian In-
dians who happened to come down our way found all the Indians in one place
dead—all but two children. Ont of these children was Ghost Head. This
woman grew up and lived in Red Lake a long time; I knew her well. The
Canadians found Ghost Head suckling her mother who had been dead of small-
pox 3 to 4 days. Big flies were on her body, but still the child nursed on the
woman. They put the children into their canoe, took them home, and cared for
them.

TATTOOING (AJA’SOWIN)

Tattooing was used as a health restorative in cases of muscular
pains, “such as rheumatism, dislocated joints, and backaches.” Few
persons, however, had knowledge of the procedure and ingredients
to be used. Both adults and children were treated. A Red Lake
informant had found relief from pains in her knee and elbows after
several tattooings. She had tried various medicinal remedies previ-
ously without success; she had “even tried the U. S. agency doctor.”
Marks were in evidence on her legs and wrists. Another informant
had been cured of rheumatic knees by beifg tattooed in May 1932.
Both Red Lake and Lac du Flambeau informants had been cured of
goiter by being tattooed. “I never heard of any herb used in curing
goiters; in fact, I never saw goiters when I was young.” <A number
of informants were convinced that their people had “caught” goiters
from the Whites, along with tuberculosis and smallpox.

No pattern was used in tattooing. Tattoo marks were of various
sizes : the variety in both size and color reminded one of blueberries.

Tattooing was done on the affected part. The woman cured of
goiter had many marks on chest and neck; the one cured of rheumatic
knees was spattered with marks in the knee area and just above it.
Several women had marks on the side of the face; others said their
backs were covered with them.

The implement (djab6n’igan) used in tattooing consisted of a stick,
usually a twig of a tree or bush, into one end of which three or four
needles had been inserted—occasionally the needles were tied around

94. BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buun. 146

the stick. Tattooers were reluctant to give information on ingredi-
ents used. Informants-as well as interpreters who had been tattooed
thought them to be gunpowder mixed with some pulverized roots.
One informant was certain that sarsaparilla roots were used, “the
root that’s really not a root, but runs along in long strips.”

A tattooer’s outfit—that of a 60-year-old Red Lake informant—con-
tained a needle applicator and some pulverized substance. Both were
securely wrapped in a piece of birchbark and stored in a closed sand-
wich-spread jar. The applicator had been made by slicing one end
of a hazelnut twig and inserting into this three needles in a row.
“There should be four needles,” remarked the owner, “but I’m using
one for buckskin sewing.” The needles were held in position by being
tightly tied with some white woolen yarn. The medicine consisted
of a bit of moldy substance the ingredients of which the interpreter
thought it best not to inquire about. The tattooer remarked: “My
mother taught me how to tattoo and she learnt it from an old, old
woman years ago. Men seldom have this knowledge.”

Tattooers had used two procedures. Some dipped the needles into
the medicinal substance and then pricked the skin; others applied the
medicinal substance with the end of a small stick, and after that
pricked the area with needles. A Red Lake tattooer used the latter
method: ‘He dipped a little stick into some black medicine con-
tained in a small birchbark dish, and dotted my arm. After that he
took a stick that had a row of three or four needles in one end and
pressed the medicine into my arm. It cured the crawling feeling I
had had in my arm for a long time.” An informant on the same
reservation had been tattooed by the first method in 1926: “I had dis-
located my knee and was so badly off that my old man had to carry
me from place to place. The woman who tattoed me dipped a bunch
of sewing needles that had been tied around a stick (about 14 inch
in diameter) into some black medicine and kept pricking my leg. It
was very painful; but it cured my leg.” Marks were scattered ir-
regularly from ankle to hip, except for two rows, about one-half inch
apart, which extended from ankle to upper leg.

On the Lac Courte Orielle Reservation the procedure to be used was
described as follows:

If you want to tattoo, in order to cure a sickness, take a small piece of wood, split
one end of it and tie a few needles into this end. Mark off the space that is to
be tattoed, an area about 1 inch square, dip needles into medicine, and with
them prick the marked area. I broke my hip some years ago and used to have
great pain driving a lumber wagon. I drove this wagon practically every day,
hauling lumber to build a new house. I had a spot tattooed on my hip. I found
great relief but after having it done so many times, I no longer found that it
helped any. After it was pricked, I was supposed to rest. Once I felt that the

whole thing was taking too much of my time, so I took the needles and instead
of pricking my hip continuously for a long time, I drove the needles down

Hitenr] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 95

deeper. But this made my hip very sore. After each pricking, the pricked
part oozed blood. It was covered with the down of any bird. The down sticks
to the wound until it is healed. 4

In ’81 I saw an old woman on the Reservation who had tattooing in the form of
a cross on her forehead. The parts of the cross were all equal. They were made
up of four 44-inch squares. The color was a deep blue. The design, so
far as I know, didn’t mean anything. This woman had merely been treated and
cured of some trouble. [Hilger, 1936 e, p. 44.]

BLOODLETTING (PA’PAICOANG)

Bloodletting was done to remove “bad blood.” It could not cure
“aches inside the body; herbs and roots and teas were good for that.”
Nor could it cure cases in which pus infections were involved; “the
medicine man had cures for these” (cf. pp. 88-89). Bloodletting was
done at the temples and at the inner arm at the elbow. When applied
at the temples it relieved headaches or insanity, “the kind of insanity
which does not make people violent and which is caused by evil
powers”. When applied at the elbow, it relieved strained backs or
arms.

Incisions were made with sharp-edged flint stones (bi’wanak), with
pieces of broken porcelain sharpened to an edge, or with points of
knives. If the blade of a knife was used it was completely wound
about with string, leaving only as much of the point exposed as was
needed for the depth of the cut. The gash was made by holding the
point over a vein with one hand and tapping the handle end of the
knife with the other.

After incisions were made in the temples—at times as many as three
were made in each temple—the larger end of a horn “of any critter”
(wikwa’cigans) was pressed firmly against the temple so as to cover
the incisions, and the blood sucked through the small end, this end
having been filed or cut off so as to permit the passage of air. If the
blood was let at the elbow, no sucking was necessary since a vein was
tapped and blood flowed freely. When the required amount of blood
had been let—probably a teaspoonful from each temple or a half cup-
ful from the elbow—the blood flow was clogged by the application of
chewed tobacco, chewed bark (“he won’t tell what bark it is because
it is secret knowledge”), a green poultice, or a decoction of gray
medicine.

Both temple and elbow bloodletting were being done during the time
of ethnological research covered in this work. Several persons so
treated were seen with bandages about their heads, or adhesive tape
over temples. A L’Anse informant found relief from a prolonged
“terrific” headache by being bled by an Odanah woman (La Pointe
Reservation) blood-letter. “This woman,” she said, “rubbed her
fingers over my temples, made three incisions—none of which I felt—

96 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buuu. 146

with a knifelike thing made from a chip of a dinner plate and sucked
about half a hornful of blood. Then she pasted a green poultice
over the incisions. I haven’t had a headache since; and that was 11
years ago.”

SWEATING

Sweat baths (mad6d6’soén) were resorted to as both curative and
preventive measures. Since sweating released impurities, it was
often resorted to in cases of pain or stiffness in arms or legs. Sweat
lodges, low, circular, dome-shaped wigwams (maddd6’swan), were seen
on all reservations. One on the Red Lake Reservation, 4 feet high
and 4 feet in diameter, had been made by planting eight hazelnut stalks
in the ground, about 114 feet apart. The upper opposite ends were
overlapped and tied together with basswood fiber. The entrance was
indicated by two twigs, each 18 inches long, that had been planted
parallel with two of the hazelnut stalks. To one side in the interior
was a pile of eight stones, each approximating the size of a man’s fist.
A sprinkler of balsam twigs with handle made by tying two places near
one end with basswood fiber lay nearby. Indentations in the sand
indicated recent sprinkling. Encircling the lodge, close to the frame-
work, was a ring of balsam twigs. A path of an unidentified weed led
from the door of the lodge to a place about 2 yards away where charred
remains of a fire and a pail half filled with water stood. A similar
wigwam on the same reservation was made of branches of the elder
tree. Its owner sweated in it for an hour and a half, “never longer,”
whenever afilicted with rheumatic pain. After covering the frame-
work with blankets, he heated stones, carried them and a pail of water
into the wigwam, undressed inside of it. (His clothes were pushed
to the outside so as to keep them dry.) He then sprinkled cold water
on the pile of heated stones producing as much steam as he desired.
Four men on the White Earth Reservation were seen crawling out of
a sweat lodge. “All those men worked hard on road building this
week, and their muscles ached,” said the wife of one.

PREVENTIVE MEASURES

Preventive measures began with a baby’s first bath in herb and root
decoction: this was to give it a strong constitution (p. 18). As the
child grew older, it was allowed to eat all the charcoal it wanted, strips
of burnt cedar preferably, in order that its bones might thereby be
strengthened and it be given some resistance to sickness. There were
no measures taken to establish resistance or immunity to sickness in
older children or in mature persons. Some informants thought that
eating bear grease in the early days had given their people some resist-
ance by making them physically strong. “We eat it sometimes now

HILcErR] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 97

and everybody feels better.” It was thought that epidemics “carried
by Whites,” such as measles and scarlet fever, could be checked by
making a smudge of cedar in the room in which the disease was found;
or if no one in the family was afllicted, the sickness could be warded
off by filling the air of the entire house with the fumes of a similar
smudge. It was also believed that cedar boughs on doors kept
epidemics from entering.

People were at times warned of impending sickness by the song
of the robin, for “a robin has two ways of singing: if he sings one
way sickness will occur; if he sings the other way, it won’t.” When
robins announced it, or rumors had it, that an epidemic was spread-
ing, the Indians hunted for skunks to secure the musk. They dropped
this into toilets, woodsheds, and around the outside of the home. Some
people saved musk in bottles for emergencies. “It keeps away small-
pox and other sickness, the kinds Whites get mostly. It’s just like
your fumigation.”

It is possible, too, that the Chippewa were immune to certain ill-
nesses. On Vermilion Lake Reservation no Indian is known to have
been poisoned by ivy although the reservation has a profuse growth
of it. “The only one that is ever poisoned is a Finnish woman who
lives here.”

MORAL TRAINING

KINDNESS

Children were taught proper etiquette in an informal way when-
ever an occasion presented itself. “It was really not manners that
were taught; it was more like kindness.” “We were told not to look at
any person a long time; nor to make fun of anyone, but to respect all
people. We were told, too, to say ‘goodbye’ or to look at people once
more just before they left: that was a sign that they were welcome
to come again. Children were often given tobacco and told to present
it to older persons as a sign of good will and friendship. It was cus-
tomary for any one arriving in a home to offer a pinch of tobacco to
alladults. The acceptance of it signified peace and friendship among
all present”’.?

Densmore’s informants had been taught “that they must not go
peeking in the wigwams after dark and that they must not laugh at
anything unusual nor show disrespect to older people. They were
also taught that they must not go to the neighbors when they were
eating and look wistfully at the food. Little children were taught
not to go between older people and the fire” (Densmore, 1929, p. 58).

78 When Chippewa friends instructed the writer in the etiquette of their people, they
emphasized the importance of tobacco giving and advised that commercial tea be offered
in the event that no tobacco was at hand.

884216—51—§

98 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLy. 146

Respect for older people, evidenced in speaking to them in a civil
way and in listening to them attentively, was well impressed upon
children. “It was one of the main things taught us; we were told no
one would respect us if we did not respect older people.” “Mother
would talk to us children and tell us that if we met a blind man, to
lead him; if a hungry man, to feed him; or if we found an old person
alone, to help him.”

Assisting the aged in a material way, however, does not seem to
have been part of the training of the Chippewa children. On all
reservations old persons were seen to shift for themselves; their able-
bodied sons felt no obligation to assist them. Daughters, more often,
seemed to feel a responsibility. Old parents seemed indifferent to
their neglect; none offered any complaints against their children.
Gilfillan (1901, p. 96) found this condition to exist in his time. He
wrote:

But it seems to be an unwritten law among them that an old man, and especially
an old woman, must shift for himself or herself somehow. They have a contempt
for the aged and useless, like all heathen. The son never seems to think he is
under any obligation to do anything for his aged father or mother. Nor do they
make any complaint of him, for they do not seem to expect anything. And one
always hears the complaint that food given by the government, or by charitable
persons, does not get to the old persons for whom it was intended, but is eaten
by the well and strong.

Sharing what is over and above the necessities of life is a virtue of
the Chippewa. Children in the early days were taught this by observa-
tion and participation: “A mother would put some food into a dish
and tell her child to take it to the neighbors, and so teach the child to
give and share.” “A mother seldom gave anything away herself; she
always gave it to one of the children to give, so the child would grow
up to give and be willing to give.” “Children learnt one of the main
customs of the Indians, namely that of feeding each other, from their
parents. If a family had much meat because of a successful hunt,
everybody was invited to come and get some, and the children saw
this.”

STEALING

Various informants named families, members of whom they never
trusted, because they knew that they had not been taught to respect
the property of other people. “They belonged to the lower class and
everybody knew they had no training.”

In the better families, however, honesty was highly respected and
was taught to children. Ifa very small child brought home an article
that did not belong to the family, “the parent took the thing, carried
it back, and explained.” If the child had nearly reached the age of
reason, “he was taken by the hand, marched back with the thing, and

‘Hianr] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 99

made to put it where it belonged. If he was old enough to be reasoned
with, I sent him back by himself, after talking to him. I teach my
grandchildren the same as I taught my children.” “If a child took
something from a neighbor, it was told to carry it back. If it refused
to do so, the mother marched it back with the article—the child had
to carry the article and hand it to the owner.”

Older children who were caught stealing were whipped by a parent
and made to return the stolen object. “I used to take my son and
spank him, and make him take the thing back,” said an old man.
Another informant gave his grandson “a licking, and made him return
the stolen thing.”

LYING AND BOASTING

A lying child was told that it was making a wrong start in life,
and that it would never be of any account if it continued to lie. Par-
ents scolded lying children, “spanked them with little sticks on their
legs,” or “hit them in the mouth.” Lying children were not liked;
“a grudge was held against them and they were ignored to make them
feel it for a long time.”

A boasting child was usually not listened to. Sometimes boys
boasted: “if what they boasted about was true, their elders Histenes|s
if not, they ignored them or walked away from them.”

TALEBEARING

A talebearing child was not listened to: either it was pushed away
or people walked away from it. Some parents punished children that
bore tales by slapping the mouth or shoulders. “I wouldn’t listen to
a child that brought tales; I chased it away and told it, ‘I don’t want
to hear that.’ Those who listened to children spoilt them and made
tattletales out of them.”

QUARRELING

Often when children quarreled with neighbor children, they were
not allowed to play with them again. Parents who took sides with
their own children against those of neighbors’ caused ill feelings to
grow up between the families. Usually quarreling was ignored by
the parents. “I never defend my children when they complain about
other children being mean to them; I say to them, ‘Oh, that’s all right,
so long as you weren’t killed’.”. Densmore (1929, p. 60) writes that
stern and oft-repeated advice by grandmothers to mothers was “. . .
if your children go among the neighbors and make a quarrel, don’t
take their part. You must bring them home and make them behave
themselves. Do not get into a quarrel with your neighbors because
of the quarrels of the children.”

100 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 14¢

When children of the same family quarreled, parents either paid
no attention to them or gave them a little switching. Some paren
“Just wouldn’t allow quarreling. If we quarreled early in the morning
we were chased away from the house before breakfast and were given
nothing to eat until evening; we were not allowed to come home for
meals,” A 4-year-old boy who had formed a habit of settling a quarrel
by biting his opponent had repeatedly been told by his mother that
“it was naughty and not to do it. But one day when he was biting a
boy, I took a stick, opened his mouth, and told him that I would knock
out all his teeth and that then he wouldn’t have any when he grew up
to be a man. He seemed to realize that he was doing wrong, and
never bit anyone again. I had to tell it to him in this way just once.
I did not touch his teeth, of course.”

Quarreling children, and grown-ups too, might call each other
“dog” or “ghost”, or “snap eyes” at each other, or say “Ga!”, an ex-
pression accompanied by a gesture of the hand.

“Dog” (animiic’) or “You look like a dog” or “You are like a dog”
are the most insulting expressions a Chippewa can use; “they are the
worst thing that can be said in the Chippewa language.” “When we
called each other ‘dog’ or ‘ghost’ (cibai), we were using the worst
names we had; really, they were about the only bad words there were
in those old days.”

“Snapping eyes” (nimicga’bin) consists of looking sharply and
reproachfully from the corner of one’s eyes directly into the eyes of
another person and then, while turning the head disdainfully in the
opposite direction, walk away from him. This gesture was done
rather quickly and no words were spoken. The writer has seen, and
repeatedly heard of, children and older girls who wept bitterly be-
cause someone had snapped eyes at them. “Indians are very, very
sensitive to snapping eyes,” said one old informant after she had
demonstrated the act. Only after repeated requests did she give a
demonstration and then only on condition that the writer understood
very well that she “had no thoughts back of the snapping.”

“Ga !” was an expression that was uttered ina loud annoyed tone and
was accompanied by a gesture of the hand which was formed as though
it held an egg (tips of all fingers were brought to tip of thumb),
fingers and thumb were released full stretch with a quick movement
while the person said “Ga!”. A mother was seen using the gesture in
order to disperse her annoying children: they stopped play instantly,
and quietly and doggedly found their way behind the house. The
grandmother seemed amazed at the mother’s action and was no longer
willing to give information through her as an interpreter. After 15
minutes the children were still huddled against the back wall of the
house, out of sight of everybody.

HILGHR] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 101
INTOXICANTS, SUICIDE, CANNIBALISM, REVENGE

The Chippewa before the coming of Whites had no intoxicating
liquor ; its devastating ravages among the tribe today are well known.

Suicide occurs today, but none of the old informants recalled ever
having heard of it in the early days. Gilfillan wrote in 1901 that
there had been only one case in 25 years, “this being an elderly woman
who hung herself at the gate in front of her door, after a family
quarrel” (Gilfillan, 1901, p. 60).

Cannibalism was resorted to, but only very rarely. Warren (1885,
p. 501) relates that a man, his wife, his two daughters, and a son-in-law
had killed and eaten 15 persons, most of whom were their own children
and grandchildren. He also quotes from the Minnesota Democrat of
July 29, 1851, describing Indians at the point of starvation as eating
their own children. Father Belcourt affirmed that the Chippewa of
Canada ate the flesh of their vanquished enemies but, aside from this,
looked upon cannibalism with horror (Hodge, 1907, pt. 1, p. 278).
Several Red Lake informants knew that Sioux had been eaten by the
Chippewa—‘just a little by each warrior”—after a successful war.
Two aged informants on the same reservation had heard of a woman
of their band having eaten her own children, but “she had been ‘orand-
medicined’” (p. 73). On the White Earth Reservation cases. were
reported to have occurred about 1850 (Watrin, 1930, p. 44).

Revenge for the death of a relative culminating in the murder of
the offender was an unwritten law of the Chippewa. “There were no
laws among the Indians like among the Whites; but if a man killed
another man, the second man’s relatives killed the first man; and
that was considered all right.”

The following account was collected on the Lac Courte Orielle
Reservation : Z

And now I’m going to tell a true event: An old fellow, before the eighties,
killed two brothers of a man still living at Reserve (Lac Courte Orielle Reser-
vation) ; after that he moved to Mille Lacs. Some years ago some Mille Lacs
Indians, among them this old fellow, came to Reserve to give a dance. On the
last day, when recounting experiences which showed bravery, the old man got up
and made a speech in which he told of the killing of those two brothers. All the
Indians from Reserve were tense, for the brother of those two men was present
and they knew what would follow. The brother rose to leave the place, but they
held him. In the evening the friends of the old man offered to take the old man
back to Mille Lacs some other way than that of going with the crowd. But he
said he didn’t care: he was going with the crowd. In the morning all danced,
and then the band of 50 Indians from Mille Lacs started home. They went in
single file except those around the old man who tried to keep him in the center.
When they came to the path between Wolf and Whitefish, “Bang!’”’ came a
gunshot. That was the end of that old fellow. He was shot at long range.
That was the way that ended!

102 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buun. 146

MENTAL TRAINING
COUNTING TIME

Time of day was told rather accurately by the old Chippewa by
means of sundials. Sundials are used occasionally today in camping
grounds and are made as in the early day: On a clear night a man
will stake a stick, about a yard high, and, lying flat on the ground,
move about it until it is in line with the North Star. The position of
a second stick will be determined by laying a pole to the south of the
first and in line with it and the North Star. (An informant on the
Lac Courte Orielle Reservation did not stake a second stick but simply
draw a straight line north and south through the first stick keeping
the North Star asa guide.) Inthe morning he will draw a line through
the base of the south stick and at right angles to the line joining the
two sticks. When the shadow of the south stick falls on the westerly
line, the first half of the day is beginning; when it falls in line with
the north stick, it is midday; when on the easterly line, the last half
of the day has ended. The remaining parts of the day are only
approximately read.

An old Red Lake Indian staked two sticks as described above. In
the morning, a third one was planted to the south and in line with the
first two. A semicircle was then drawn through the third stick, convex
to the southward. When the shadow of the third stick fell west and
tangent to the circle, it was approximately 6 o’clock in the morning;
when it fell in line with the two sticks to the north, it was noonday;
when, to the east and tangent to the circle, it was approximately 6
o’clock in the evening (Hilger, 1937 f, p. 179).

Days were counted by nights; nights were not named. Neither
had informants heard names assigned to days of the week other than
the ones now used. Sunday is called ana’mié gicigod’ (prayer day);
Monday, ickwa’anamié gicigod’ (day after prayer day); Tuesday,
nicd’gicigod’ (second day); Wednesday, abatd’seg gicigod’ (middle
day); Thursday, nid’gicigod’ (fourth day); Friday, nand’gicigod’
(fifth day); Saturday, Mari’gicigod’ (Mary’s day).

When time counts needed to be kept, either nights or moons, as
they passed, were marked on a stick or on the bark or the poles of
the wigwam. Moons began with new moon. New moon was called
dc’gégagin gisis (moon hangs new); first quarter, pakwé’wi gisis
(moon has piece bitten off); full moon, wawias’si gisis (moon is round);
and last quarter, ickwaya’si gisis (moon ceases to burn). The fol-
lowing moons correspond to our months. (Informants were not able
to account for an additional moon in the 12 calendar months.)

Hitenr] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 103

January. -=-.-- kit’ci m4n/itd gisis Big spirits moon
February ------- namibi’ni gisis Suckers-begin-to-run moon
MiaAnchi= 2-822 = onab/’ani gisis Crusted-snow-supporting-man moon
eprilee i203 DARE iskigamissigé gisis Boiling-down-maple-sap moon
bibodkwadajam’ik gisis Putting-away-snowshoes moon
TRL wabigon’i gisis Flowering moon
pone 2 2 Ph bed ddén’iminni gisis Strawberry moon
July_.--------- abitani’bin gisis Midsummer moon
mini’ gisis Blueberry moon
i mini’ka gisis ; Plenty-of-blueberries moon
manodm’ini gisis Wild-rice-gathering moon
September__----. watab4’bi gisis Turning-of-leaves moon
October - -~---_- bina’kwa gisis Leaves-falling moon
November- - - --- gackad’in6 gisis Lake-freezing moon
December - - - - - - min’itd gisis sons Little spirits moon 2’

Seasons are called sik’wan (spring), ni’bin (summer), takwa’gik
(fall), bi’ban (winter). These words do not lend themselves to
translation.

Dates were not recorded. Events were remembered by being asso-
ciated with significant happenings or with a phenomenon of nature
that occurred at the time of the event. “I shall be married 50 years
next rice-gathering time.” “My father used to say that since the last
Sioux fight he had seen a certain set of stars appear 5 different times.”
“When the Chippewa and the Sioux fought their last war, that was
the time I was born.”

The age of individuals was not recorded. Events in the lives of
informants were placed in a developmental period: before I could
walk; when I was so high; before I had sense; when I was already
an old woman; after I was a grandmother the first time. “That hap-
pened when the blueberries were ripe and I was so high.” “My mother
died before I could walk.” “We admitted two children, just old
enough to remember, into the Midé’wiwin this spring.” “No one
blamed a child that took a neighbor’s moccasins unless it was old
enough to have sense.” “TI was laughed at for playing with dolls when
J was as big as that girl (11-year-old girl), for I was already an ‘old
woman.” ”

LINEAR MEASUREMENTS AND COUNTING NUMBERS

Measurements were based on the palm of the hand (naga’kimi) ; the
width of four fingers (nidn’inj) ; the distance from tip of thumb to its
first joint (dgicininj’) ; a hand stretch, one consisting of distance from
either tip of long finger to tip of thumb, or from tip of small finger to
tip of thumb (ningdtwa’cininj) ; distance covered by a fist with out-

27 Cf. also Cope, 1919, pp. 165-166, for Chippewa names for moons as found in other sources.

104. BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 146

stretched thumb (abito’sid) ; distance from tip of long finger to elbow
(ik6d6’swank) ; and on an arm stretch, either on one arm from end of.
fingers to face (abita’winik) or on both outstretched arms from end of |
fingers to end of fingers (nigéto’winik or nica’bigons).

A navel-cord container was made of two pieces of buckskin “as
large as the palm of my hand.” Arrowheads were measured in length
and in width by a certain number of thumbs—from tip of nail to first
joint. In making buckskin jackets women used “big hand stretches,”
stretches from tip of thumb to tip of middle finger. (In demonstrat-
ing the informant moved the tip of the middle finger to the position of
the tip of the thumb, the hand thus gliding along the length of the
skin in the direction of the thumb.) The length of a baby’s birch-
bark bathtub extended from the tip of the long finger to the elbow;
in width it covered two stretches of the hand. (In demonstrating,
the thumb of the informant glided to the position of the tip of the little
finger.) An informant measured the length of an arrow shaft by
closing both of his hands with thumbs extended around the left end
of the shaft, outstretched thumbs resting on shaft and nails touch-
ing. He released the left hand and placed it snugly against and to the
right of the right hand. This gesture was repeated until he had
measured the stick. Birchbark dishes used in collecting maple sap
varied in length; the largest ones measured from tip of long finger to
elbow.

An informant measured the width of a bulrush mat with seven hand
stretches (from tip of thumb to tip of long finger), by gliding tip of
long finger into position of tip of thumb. The length of a mat was
a double arm stretch and a half (one-half was distance from tip of
hand to shoulder). When a mat was completed, it was stretched, the
give of the weave lengthening it to two double-arm stretches. “I often
saw my mother use this measurement,” the 53-year-old informant
remarked.

The pattern for moccasins is made by tracing the foot of the person
for whom they are intended, adult, child, or baby, on a piece of paper
on which he stands. Formerly a thin layer of birchbark and char-
coal were used in the tracing. The foot may also be traced while the
paper is held against it. The tongue for the moccasins of adults is of
standard size, a pattern being kept on hand; the size for a child’s or
baby’s is guessed. The length of moccasins “that are sold to stores
today” are measured by placing the palm of the hand on a piece of
buckskin and bringing it over the tip of the fingers to the joint of
long finger and palm; the complete width—sole and top—is a single
hand stretch; the tongue is standard size.

A Red Lake informant attached floats to her nets a double arm
stretch apart, “both arms must be outstretched at full length in line

Hiner] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 105
C

with my ears; not by holding hands backward.” “I often saw my
grandmother measure something between the hands of her two out-
stretched arms. This is called nica’bigéns. Today, women consider
this equivalent to 2 yards.”

Chippewa count numerals in the following manner : One, two, three,
four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten; ten one, ten two, ten three... .
ten nine; two tens, two tens one, two tens two . . . two tens nine;
three tens, three tens one, three tens two . . . three tens nine; etc.

DIRECTIONS

Chippewa who were acquainted with the locality of their habitat
and with the country surrounding it relied on the position of the sun
or of the North Star to find directions; when not well acquainted with
a locality, they marked the trail in order to make return possible.
“When men went hunting in those early days, they didn’t need to
mark the way; they always found home without difficulty. However,
if some families were moving and expected others to follow them at a
later time, the first ones chipped bark off trunks of trees or broke
branches along the way. If the direction changed en route, the tree
was chipped on two sides, one chip in line with the direction from
which the family came and the other in line with the direction to
which they had turned. If the distance to be traveled was long, and
no chances were to be taken of having the second detachment lose
its way, a small piece cf birchbark was fastened to a tree at turns in
the trail: a +, “a star,” engraved on the birchbark indicated a turn
toward the rising sun; a —, one turning toward the setting sun. This
was done in addition to chipping the tree.

A woman going only a short distance from home—she might be
gathering berries—broke little twigs, one at a time along the way and
several at a turn in the direction in which she turned. Today, when
ever it is difficult to find brush, because of clearings in many localities,
sticks are driven into the ground and rags tied to the upper ends.

Some informants had not heard that the Chippewa used smoke
signaling; others said it was used whenever fear arose that someone
had lost the trail. In such cases a fire was made on an elevated area
and covered with a buckskin, thus smothering the flames and at the
same time preventing any smoke from rising. When all was ready for
signaling, the buckskin was lifted and all smoke allowed to ascend.
Immediately afterward, grass was thrown on the fire to smother it
and all was again covered with the skin. When the first signal had
well dispersed, a second was sent up. This was repeated as many
times as it had been agreed upon before families separated, or as
many times as it was customary to signal.

106 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buun. 14(
INTERPRETATION OF NATURAL PHENOMENA 7

Northern lights were ascribed to the thunderbird, to electric storm
raging in the far north, to reflection of the sun on snow, ice, or water,
to currents of wind in high elevations, or to spirits or ghosts dancing
far to the north. “The people said last night when the northern lights
played (Vermilion Reservation, August 19, 1939) that the souls of the
old people who lived long ago as well as those who died recently were
dancing.” “The ghosts of the departed Chippewa, other Indians,
and Whites have a dance.” All informants were agreed that northern
lights predicted rain or snow, strong winds or storms. “Two or three
days after northern lights appear bad weather will invariably follow.”

Most informants had not heard any explanation given for the origin
of the rainbow. A very old Lac du Flambeau woman had heard old
Indians say when she was a child that after a rain Médjigékwe’ ex-
tended her arms over the sky, joining her fingers; the colors in the
rainbow were those of the sleeves of her dress. La Pointe and L’Anse
informants had not heard this explanation, and they doubted it
because buckskin clothes and not rainbow-colored ones were worn for-
merly. A rainbow predicted fair weather when it appeared in the
east; rain, when in the west.

Sundogs predicted snow. A large circle about the moon gave warn-
ing of warm weather; a small one, of a storm, “and that is true, for it
never fails to storm when a small circle is seen.” Thunder and light-
ning did not predict weather; both were caused by the thunderbird,
Animi’ki. The movements of his wings and tail caused the thunder;
the opening and closing of his eyes to see where he was going, the
lightning. Weather, too, could be predicted “by the way the stars and
clouds hung. An old woman here can do that, she can tell for instance
whether or not we'll have a good sugar-making season.”

The behavior of animals, too, predicted weather: when tree toads
sang, rain or storm was in the offing; rain could be expected when birds
ended their songs abruptly; whistling lizards, small ones that live in
rotten wood and whistle like persons, predicted rain; when large ani-
mals “tracked around in the woods rather aimlessly, going round and
round, a change of weather could be expected. The ordinary way for
animals to act is to go around quietly and to act as though they knew
what they are about.”

Human beings, too, brought about change in weather; killing frogs
brought rain; throwing rabbitskins on fire brought north winds or
caused a “big storm.” Swinging one’s hands back and forth in the
water while going places in a boat also caused storms.

3 Cf. also Hilger, 1937 a, pp. 178-179.

‘ainenr] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 107

I was often corrected by my grandfather when swinging my hand back and
forth in the water while traveling by boat. I was told it would cause a storm.
‘However, I might play in the water after the boat landed.

Throwing dogs or cats into the lake will cause a storm almost at once. The
spirit of the water, it seems, doesn’t like nasty things in the water so it produces
a wind that will take the things to shore. Winds thus produced may blow in any
direction. As soon as the cats or dogs are thrown on shore, the wind ceases.
Pappin often saw this take place. One day he and one of my uncles wanted to
fish off Keweenaw Point. They threw a cat into the bay and had a favorable
wind for 3 days.

Not long ago, Pappin was out in a boat with two men. They intended to fish.
He noticed a bag near one man and said to him, ‘What have you in there?’
He said, “A cat. that I am going to drown.” Don’t put it in the bay or you'll
have a wind.” They were conversing in the boat, when suddenly a storm arose.
Pappin turned to the man and said, “What did you do with the cat?” “I threw
it into the bay.” “Well! there is your storm.” [Hilger, 1936 a, p. 20.]

The Chippewa did not cause winds by plucking feathers off a bird’s
back, “but any man who wanted to do so could change the wind by
shooting an arrow in the direction in which he wished it to blow. My
uncle often did that.”

No significance was attached to an eclipse of the moon. Several
explanations, however, were given for an eclipse of the sun: Spirits
were thought to be hiding the sun and hence arrows were shot toward
it until the eclipse passed, the belief being that the spirits were killed ;
some believed that the sun was dying or dead, and shot arrows to revive
it; others thought it a bad omen. “I have seen Indians shoot at an
eclipse of the sun with guns in order to kill the bad luck. The Indians
were much frightened by an eclipse.”

Both sun and moon “were like persons. The moon at one time had
been a man who, while on his way to fetch water, was taken up into
the air. That.is why in a full moon one can see a man with a pail.”

A comet forbode evil. “While we were living at Copper Harbor,”
said a L’Anse informant, “my mother called us outdoors one night
and said, ‘Look!’ The sky was red and then it became white. The
stones were red from the reflection. It was night but it seemed like
daylight. This thing had a long tail which was lighted. My mother
said some catastrophe was going to happen, and soon the war between
the North and the South broke out. My father went away and was
gone for 3 years.” [ Hilger, 1937 f, p. 178.]

LANGUAGE 79

Children were taught certain words of their native language by imi-
tation. Names of objects might be taught by holding the object
before the child and pronouncing the name until the child was able

22For pictography, see Hoffman (1888, pp. 209-229) and Reagan (1927, pp. 80-83) ;
for pictography and sign language, see Tomkins (1926, pp. 74-90).

108 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLt. 146,

to repeat it correctly. Often a child was rewarded by being given
the object after pronouncing itsname. Most of the child’s vocabulary
was learned by hearing elders speak. The various bands spoke dia-
lects of the Chippewa language, “but all could make out what other
bands were saying.” . |

The sign language was not taught to children; it was not part of
the Chippewa culture. Only a few old persons were able to communi-
cate in it. “Some of us had to know it so that we could talk to the
Sioux and some other prairie tribes,” said a Red Lake informant.

The Chippewa had no written language (Baraga, 1878; Jones, W.,
1919). A form of pictography, consisting of symbolisms that repre-
sented numbers, directions, days, hills, lakes, sky, and earth, and of
crude delineations that represented men, birds, animals, and material
objects was known to a few persons in every band.” Those who were
well versed in it could combine these delineations and symbols into
ideographs that represented progressive action. Such ideographs, if
used in messages, records of time, directions, or maps designed for tra-
vel, could be interpreted by many, but only members of the Midé’wiwin
could read the ones related to their lodge (cf. also Densmore, 1929, pp.
176-183). “My father had birchbark with writing on it. It was too
sacred for me to look at; young people were not allowed to look at
it.” “Once before they had a medicine dance, they sang initiation
songs four successive nights. I saw my grandfather go to his bundle
and take out a roll of birchbark. He opened the roll and looked
at it. There was no writing on it; there were only birds and animals
marked on it. He looked it over carefully and selected some songs
and hymns. I looked at it too and asked how he could read it. He
said, ‘I know what it means. I can read it’” (Hilger, 1936 c, p. 45).

Picture writing was done with a bone on the inner surface of birch-
bark, or occasionally on slabs of cedar or ash. In order to give the
pictures some relief, charcoal or colored soil was rubbed into the
markings.

If a Red Lake band was in danger or needed help and no one in the
group had the ability to write a message, several scouts were sent to
a neighboring tribe with a belt to ask for help. This belt was un-
deniable evidence that the group was in trouble and that the scouts
were delivering a truthful message. The belt was about 3 feet in
length, broad in the middle and tapering toward the ends. On both
sides eagle bills were attached in a scattered manner. “When these were
removed the belt was like a carrying strap that women used in packing

30 Mnemonic records were exhibited in Case 6, Hall 4 of the Field Museum, Chicago, July
25, 1935. A descriptive label read: “The Ojibwa had developed a system of mnemonic
records which more nearly approached writing than any other form found north of
Mexico. The records consisted of more or less conventionalized figures incised on birch-
bark. Hach figure represented an idea or event but the figures were not sufficiently
conventionalized to be classed as true ideographs.”

HILGER] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 109

wood or anything else on their backs [p. 141]. I never saw such a belt
but my father told me about it,” said an old Red Lake informant.

DIVERSIONS

_ Chippewa children were given much freedom and therefore spent
much time in play. Their developmental age, it appears, was not
unlike that of other children. While small they played with toys
made by their elders; when a little older, boys and girls played to-
gether in games and in imitation of elders; when still older, sexes
excluded each other and played apart and tolerated no interference
from each other; in adulthood, some games were played by each sex
exclusively, some by both sexes but apart, and others by both sexes
together.

Formerly the child had little choice in companionship, since the
only children within its environment were those of its own family
or of the few families that lived in its group. Groups of families
were of necessity small since all had to live upon nature in the locality.
They usually moved en masse in following the seasonal occupation of
maple-sugar making, berry picking, wild-rice gathering, fishing, and
hunting.

Both boys and girls in late preadolescent years had a chum; many
informants spoke of these with affection, having been lifelong friends.
“Chums were like brothers or sisters to each other, and no matter what
happened after we were married, we could always count on a chum
if we needed help.” Old men informants did not think that gang
life, such as is found among American boys, existed among the Chip-
pewa boys. Boys of various groups banded together to fight the
boys of another group, but this seems to have been the extent of their
planned activities. :

Groups of families of close social affinity exist on reservations to-
day. Small children of such groups play together. Parents seem
free of worry when their older children seek companionship only
within the group. In some instances the families of a group are
consanguineous; in others the affinity is d6’damic; in still others it
is thought that the common possession of drums in early days is
responsible for their grouping.

Diversions within and between groups consisted of story telling;
of smoking, chewing, and snuffing while visiting; of playing games
and gambling; and of dancing. The children, if not actual partici-
pants in these activities, could always be nonparticipating observers.

CHILDREN’S PLAY

The earliest toys of a Chippewa child were those hung on the bow
of its cradleboard. Among these were usually the bag with his navel

110 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Bunt. 146

cord and strings of claws of animals or of skeletal heads of small
fowl (p. 23). Small girls played with dolls; boys, with bows and
arrows. They mimicked their elders in the various occupations of
housekeeping, caring for dolls (pl. 5, 3), hunting and fishing, and
dancing. During this study children on several reservations were
seen imitating their elders. On the White Earth Reservation, either
commercial dolls or ones improvised from old rags (hose stuffed with
rags to toe and then wrapped snugly into a piece of cloth “so that it
looked just like my little sister when mama gets her ready for sleep”)
were put to sleep under soothing one-syllable lullabies in hammocks
stretched between twigs of berry bushes or poles of a swing. One-
room “houses” with walls of 1-inch-deep ridges of soil were marked
off on well-scraped ground in the yard. ‘These houses were equipped
with household furniture, such as is found in their own meagerly
furnished homes, made of most perfectly modeled clay forms—the
gumbo soil in the area (western section) being well adapted to model-
ing. Although models were only 2 or 3 inches in length, tables
had grooved legs and rounded corners; chairs had curved or straight
backs; rockers had runners; and sideboards, designs on doors! Sev-
eral tables had plates and cups with handles. None of the fur-
nishings were considered precious enough to be saved for the next
day’s house playing; new ones were made three successive days. In
the yards of these “houses” tripods were erected and cooking was
played at.

A question as to the differences in steps and rhythm of the squaw
dance and the rabbit dance was answered by several third-, fourth-,
and fifth-grade girls on the White Earth Reservation by fetching
an old rusty metal pail and some pieces of kindling—these serving
as drum and drumsticks—and demonstrating both dances (1988).
(Pl. 10, Z, 3.)

GAMES AND GAMBLING

Densmore classifies the games among the Chippewa as games of
chance, such as the moccasin, hand, plate, snake, and stick games;
and games of dexterity, including the bone, bunch of grass, awl,
woman’s, and lacrosse games. Children’s games are listed by her
as the coasting erect game, snow snake, deer sticks, marbles, spinning
stone, woman’s game, bunch of grass game, playing camp, hide-and-
seek or butterfly game, blindfold game, windego game or cannibal
game.**

The only game which came under the writer’s observation was the
moccasin game (ma’kisin ata’diwin—shoe gambling) which was being

*1Cf. Densmore (1929, pp. 67-70, 114-119). For quotations from Densmore’s study,
see Brown (1930, pp. 185-186). For games played by children and adults, see also Copway

(1851, pp. 49-60) ; Hoffman (1890, pp. 138-135) ; Reagan (1919, pp. 264-278) ; and Culin
(1907, scattered between pp. 61-791).

iver] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 111

played by men on the Red Lake Reservation and by boys on the

Vermilion Lake. On the Red Lake Reservation (1939), six men
(women never participated in it) were seated on the ground, three
in each of two opposing rows. “Moccasins” consisted of four oval-
shaped pieces of blue serge about the size of a man’s hand, lined with
brown cloth, and hand-sewed about the edges. The serge was the
upper side. One of three drums used in this game was made by
stretching scraped but untanned deer hide over a band of basswood,
ind fastening it there by passing a strip of hide back and forth on
the opposite side through holes made near the edge of the hide.
When completed this side gave the appearance of the spokes of a
wheel. The drummer held the drum by clenching the spokes with
uis left hand. With his right, he beat the drum, all drummers sing-
ng to the rhythm of the beats.*? One drummer had to be a partici-
oator in the game. Other implements necessary for the game were
four ball bearings (ma’kisin atagia’win—bullets used in shoe gam-
ling), one of which was marked with two crosses carved on opposite
sides, all parts equal; a switch of the hazelnut bush used in designating
he moccasin under which the marked ball bearing was hid; 20 knit-
‘ing-needlelike sticks of wood (béméag’Anédn) used in paying the
senalty for a wrong choice (these were all passed to the opposing
side when a “deal” had ended); and 10 small slabs of cedar wood,
sointed at one end so that they could be easily planted in the ground.
The small slabs were counters and each represented 20 of the small
mitting-needlelike sticks, their total making up the final score and
showing the winning side.

The game was played in the following manner: One of the three
persons on a side, each taking his turn, hid the ball bearings, one
mnder each moccasin. The hider did this with many amusing ges-
ures of arms following the rhythm of the drums and the songs.
Drumbeats, songs, and gestures were intended to confuse the oppos-
ng person whose turn it was to find the marked ball bearing. When
111 were hidden, the hider clapped his hands. The opponent whipped
the ground slightly with his stick for a time in thoughtful search,
und finally slapped the moccasin that he suspected was hiding the
yall bearing. Before doing so, however, he was permitted to uncover
wo of the moccasins, if he so wished. His choice was always un-
Jeniably indicated by the decided manner in which he slapped the
moccasin. A wrong choice was penalized, a knitting-needlelike stick
veing passed to the opposing side. A loss of 20 of these gave the
spponents one of the cedar-wood slabs.

81See also Densmore (1910, pp. 156-161, 186-191; 1913, pp. 240-242, 282-284, 299)
for moccasin game,

112 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 146

Old clothing—a pair of trousers and faded shirt topping the pile—
was staked by the men who were gambling. Twenty-four persons
of all ages and both sexes, including children, were nonparticipants.
The men, all of whom were WPA employees who had worked the
allotted hours for the week, had played for 3 days. “Long ago valu-
able things were staked,” remarked an observer. “But that’s not
done any more; men today play for amusement rather than for stakes.”
Copway wrote of the moccasin game in 1851: “So deeply interesting
does this play sometimes become, that an Indian will stake first his
gun, next his steel traps, then his implements of war, then his cloth-
ing, and lastly his tobacco and pipe, leaving him, as we say, ‘Nah-bah-
wan-yah-ze-yaid,’ a piece of cloth with a string around his waist”
(Copway, 1851, p. 54).

On the Vermilion Reservation, August 1939, a Chippewa, over 80
years of age, was teaching the moccasin game to four boys, aged 7 to
11 (pl. 10, 4). He used ball bearings like the ones described above
whenever he played the game, but “these kids do just as well using
three white marbles and that yellow one,” he remarked. The moc-
casins and counters, however, were the ones used by him whenever he
played the game with adults. The moccasins—oval-shaped and of
black material with edges sewed by hand—were 8 inches long and 6
inches wide; the knitting-needlelike counters, 10 inches long. ‘The
large counters, each worth 20 of the above-mentioned, were of birch
wood, 714 inches long and 114 inches at greatest width. Ten of
these were used in counting; the eleventh one, easily differentiated
because of one scallopped end, was shifted back and forth by the old
man, thus indicating the side that was hiding the marbles. The wil-
low stick used in slapping the moccasin was a yard long. One of the
boys beat the drum while he and the old man sang to the rhythm,
“The drum may be of any size,” the old man said. His, covered
on both sides with undecorated and untanned deer hide, was 1714
inches in diameter, and 2 inches in width. A strip of deer hide with
four 2-inch sticks tied to it at intervals, extended across the diameter on
one side. The drummer held the drum by slipping his hand between
the drumhead and the strip. All-day suckers which the writer had
distributed among the children in the group formed the stake. In
early days the old man had staked, won, and lost blankets, canoes,
tanned hides, and “other valuable things.”

Some informants had participated in the lacrosse game when young.
“It was no gambling game, but the winner got a prize. I once took
off my waist and gave it as a prize,” remarked a Lac Courte Orielle
informant.

DANCES

One of the most enjoyable diversions of the early Chippewa was the
social dance, for dances gave opportunities for friendly gatherings

Hines] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 133

and fun. Catlin wrote in 1832-1839 that the Ojibway had entertained
his party with picturesque dances. He. wrote: “They gave us the
beggar’s dance—the buffalo-dance—the bear-dance—the eagle-dance—
and dance of the braves. This last is particularly beautiful, and ex-
citing to the feelings in the highest degree” (Catlin, 1926, vol. 2, p.
154). Densmore (1929, p. 107) lists the begging dance and the
woman’s dance as social dances.

All informants had participated in the squaw dance, a dance still
prevalent on all reservations, most especially at the time of the com-
mercial pow-wow—an Indian dance held for tourists (pl. 11). A Lac
Courte Orielle informant gave the following account of a squaw
dance:

When I attended squaw dances as a young man, it was done like this: Women
chose their partners for each occasion. If the man chosen by a woman for the
first dance gave the woman a whip, he signified thereby that he would present
her with a pony later. She, in turn, might then give him a beaded-bag outfit.
In the dance the woman follows the man. In old days these dances sometimes
lasted 10 to 14 days but were not given very often; today they are given every
Saturday night.

The feather dance is still held on the Lac Courte Orielle and the
Vermilion Reservations. Although it was formerly considered a
social gathering, the Vermilion Indians in recent years have attached
to it a ceremonial which the interpreter was certain was an intrusion.
“An old man here leads this dance every spring and fall in the dance
hall,” she remarked (cf. pl. 12 for similar dance hall). “He offers
food in memory of certain Indians—it is as though the spirit of the
food went to these dead Indians—and after that the people eat the
food. My mother said it wasn’t conducted that way years ago.”

The forty-nine dance, a new dance only 5 or 6 years old, was much
in vogue on the Lac Courte Orielle and the La Pointe Reservations in
the summer of 1935. “It’s all the rage here now,” said a Lac Courte
Orielle informant. “It is not so much an Indian dance as it is a waltz.
It originated after the World War: 50 men went across but only 49
returned. These 49 originated the song and the rythm for the
dance.” The La Pointe Chippewa who had held the dance for 3 years
previous to 1935 gave the same explanation for its origin. Some
informants believed the 49 men to have been Chippewa. Others
thought they were Winnebagos, and that these had introduced it
among their own people. Still others had heard that it had originated
with the Dakota and had been introduced by them.

“Other dances that were not known among the Chippewa years ago
but are found among them today are the fish dance, the snake dance,
the deer dance, the horse dance, and the corn dance,” said a Lac
§ 33Cf. Culkin (1915, pp. 83-93) and Reagan (1934, pp. 302-306) for social-ceremonial

ances.
884216—51——_9

114 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLu. 146

Courte Orielle woman. “It is possible that the Winnebagos intro-
duced these. They are all social dances.” On the White Earth Reser-
vation, children imitated their elders in the squaw dance, the rabbit
dance, and the side dance (pl. 10, 7, 2, 3).

VISITING

One of the most prevalent diversions of the Chippewa consisted of
visiting. Time was spent in conversation, or in silently sitting in each
other’s presence. In the summer, visiting was done out-of-doors under
sun shelters; in the winter, in the wigwam around the fireplace.
Children, when not romping around and playing, sat by and listened
in. Topics of conversation were often mere gossip, but many times,
especially in the winter, historic events such as wars, traveling, and
visits of other tribes, were recounted. Many times, too, traditional
legends—some with lessons for the young, some for mere entertain-
ment—were related, especially by those well versed in them. Dens-
more’s informants said that one old woman “used to act out her stories,
running around the fire and acting while she talked.” Stories of
Windé’go and Ba’kak were also told. Windé’go is variously de-
scribed as a “giant, an overgrown person who eats human beings;” or
as “a giant who ate and drank a lot of grease, and then sat down and
became tall and bloated ;” or as “a giant Indian who eats other people,
who may eat a whole person at one meal and then not have enough.”
An old Lac Courte Orielle man told this story: “An old man once told
me that while a man was trapping he stooped over to look at his trap.
Just then someone put a shawl over his head. The man said to this
being, ‘What are you doing?’ The being answered, ‘Oh, nothing!’
But he took the man into a boat into which he had already taken his
two children, and this being ate all three. And that was Windé’go!”

Ba’kak is a skeletal being who is always going about harming other people
[said a Red Lake informant]. At the first thunderclap he comes from the east,
and stays around until deer hunting time in the fall, when he goes west; some-
times too in winter he returns from the west and goes east. He does his
mischief on his way westward, never on the way back. Sometimes he is seen
walking in the clouds. My husband tells me that when the Indians are out
hunting and have no tent, they must hang their clothes above their heads in
order to be protected against this skeleton. Once while camping, a man, his
cousin, and his brother slept near the side of the fire. The cousin woke up,
heard something like a little squeak, and saw something fall; and that was
the skeleton. The brother, too, heard it and was frightened. The skeleton,
using something he had in his hand, cut the man open down the front, took
the tissue called “‘weese” (omentum)—it is right over the abdomen—put it on
the fire, and finally ate it. His brother saw all this. The skeleton put the

8 Densmore (1929, p. 29). For traditional legends, see Chamberlain (1889) ; Blackwood
(1929) ; Jones, William (1919) ; Laidlaw (1915-22.)

Hiterr] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 115

man’s skin together again, covered him up so all looked the same as before,
and started on his way. The brother went over to the man, woke him, and
said, ‘Are you alive?’ The man didn’t know anything had happened; so his
brother told him. Soon the man began to fail and before long died. This
really happened.

Good humor, telling jokes, and smoking added their share of enter-
tainment. Men, women, and children smoked, Gilfillan (1901, p. 97)
noted: “All the children think they must have tobacco the same as
their elders.” Pipes were often passed from one person to another,
each person taking a few puffs. When empty, they were refilled and
passed again. On the Lac du Flambeau Reservation an old couple
who had joined our group of informants passed a pipe between them,
the woman refilling and lighting it as many times as her husband.
Many Chippewa today smoke kinnikinnick, chew plug tobacco, and
use snuff.

Visiting was often done in silence, persons merely sitting or reclin-
ing in each other’s presence. Old Indians on several reservations
complained that they had been indirectly told by white people that
they were not wanted on their porches or on their lawns. They were
asked: “Do you want anything?” “So now I don’t go visiting there
any more, for I’m not wanted. I used to enjoy visiting on the porch,
just sitting and smoking, thinking of so-and-so when he used to live
there.” Children on the Lac du Flambeau and the Lac Courte Orielle
Reservations repeatedly dropped in to see the writer, squatted at once
in a huddle on the floor near the wall, stayed awhile without uttering
a word, and when bidding goodbye quite agreed that they had had a
pleasant visit. On the White Earth Reservation girls entered the
writer’s room after a gentle rap, quietly announcing that they had
come fora visit. Clearing rockers and chairs of paper and books, they
sat for an hour in perfect silence, observing*the writer and studying all
that was to be seen in the room, and finally left thanking her for the
“nice visit” they had had.

VOCATIONAL TRAINING AND DOMESTIC ECONOMY
CANOE MAKING *®

Birchbark canoes were used by the Chippewa in summer traveling
on lakes and rivers; for movement of household goods and families;
for fishing, hunting, berrying, and rice gathering. Families usually
owned several of various sizes, smaller ones for berrying and rice
gathering, and larger ones for transportation. Both men and women
rowed: the man paddled sitting in the prow, the woman in the stern.
The weight of a canoe ranged from 65 to 125 pounds. “My father

% Cf. also Densmore (1929, pp. 150-152) ; Warren (1885, pp. 98, 105, 473).

116 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Bunn. 146

helped to make one of the largest canoes our band had; it seated 30
warriors and it took 2 men to portage it,” said a Vermilion Lake canoe
maker. When portaging either the man or the woman carried the
canoe by balancing it on head and shoulders (cf. pl. 17, 2). The
delicacy of balancing often depended on the manner in which the
paddles were fastened inside the canoe. Catlin says of the canoe:

The bark canoe of the Chippeways is, perhaps, the most beautiful and light
model of all the water crafts that ever were invented. They are generally made
complete with the rind of one birch tree, and so ingeniously shaped and sewed
together, with roots of the tamarack, which they call wat-tap, that they are
water-tight, and ride upon the water, as light as a cork. They gracefully lean
and dodge about, under the skillful balance of an Indian, or the ugliest squaw;
but like everything wild, are timid and treacherous under the guidance of a
white man; and, if he be not an experienced equilibrist, he is sure to get two
or three times soused in his first endeavors at familiar acquaintance with them.
[Catlin, 1926, vol. 2, pp. 157-158.]

Although both men and women made canoes, canoe making was
usually considered to be a man’s occupation. Boys past puberty were
expected to learn to construct them. Today the art is nearly lost. Al-
though birchbark canoes were seen on nearly all reservations, the
making of them was known to only a few old men. “The Indian arts
are dying out. Here on the Lac Courte Orielle Reservation there are
only two men left that can make a birchbark canoe. It is difficult, too,
to have snowshoes made these days,” said an informant. No dugouts—
boats made by carving out cedar tree trunks and then covering them
with hides, “the kind they used years ago”—were seen on any reserva-
tion. Several old men remembered well how to make them but had
neither strength nor material to do so. “Anyway the cedar trees
around here are too young; you need a pretty good sized one to make
a dugout,” remarked a Red Lake man.

A canoe exhibited at the Mille Lacs Indian Trading Post on Mille
Lacs Reservation was made by a fullblood Chippewa, her son, and
three other women (pls. 13-17). “It really takes four women, and two
men to do all the work in making a canoe.”? The men did the work re-
quiring the use of tools, such as shaping the wood for ribs, floor, bow,
and stern. The women prepared the bark and the pitch, and did the
sewing. All material used in making the canoe came from trees:
the bark was of the birch; the gunwales, ribs, and flooring, of green
cedar saplings; thread, of the split roots of spruce; and pitch, of
spruce resin, “boiled until it pulls like taffy, after which it is fried
in grease mixed with powdered charcoal made of cedar.” All mea-
surements were distances between body parts. The depth at middle
distance between bow and stern was the distance from elbow to tip
of thumb; the distance between ribs was one hand stretched from
tip of little finger to tip of thumb.

Hingnr] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE P17

A %5-year-old Vermilion informant completed a canoe on August
18, 1939, which he intended to use for wild-rice gathering within a
week, “just as soon as the licenses for wild-rice gathering have been
approved.” The floor of the canoe measured 14 feet 2 inches in
length; the distance between stern and prow at the opening, 12 feet
2 inches. Its width across the middle at the opening was 3 feet 2
inches; its depth, 1 foot 6inches. All material used had been gathered
from trees: the framework and all wood was of cedar; the outer
cover, of birchbark; the pitch, of spruce; the fibers used in keeping
framework and parts together, of spruce roots. It had taken a week
to gather the material and to make the canoe. The framework con-
sisted of 43 ribs of 2-inch width and 34-inch thickness. Underneath
these and running lengthwise, about 1 foot apart, were slats of the
same width but less in thickness, some being a continuous piece and
the full length of the boat. The ends of the ribs and of the slats were _
fastened to a strip of cedar wood which formed the rim about the
opening of the canoe. The rim was held apart and in position by four
8-inch boards which extended across the opening and were fastened
to the rim. All parts of the entire framework were held in position
by stitches of spruce roots, a metal awl having been used in making
holes for the sewing. Formerly, sharpened and pointed moose bone,
“or any hard and tough bone of any large animal,” was used. The
exterior of the entire framework had been covered with birchbark,
with inner side of bark toward outside. Cracks or weak parts in the
bark were well soldered on both sides with spruce resin. For the first
application pure resin was used since it was soft enough when heated to
be pressed well into all small breaks in the bark. A second applica-
tion, placed only on the very weak parts, was made of resin mixed -
with charcoal—charcoal making the resin less brittle than the pure.
The pure resin appeared brown; the charcoal mixture black.

Both paddles were also of birch wood; one was 61 inches in length,
the other 64. The greatest width of the ladle ends was 8 inches; the
narrowest, the handle end, 714.

An informant stated:

As a young lad I had often watched my father make canoes and in that way
learnt how to do the fine details. My father was considered an expert canoe
maker: he had learnt it from his father who also had a reputation for canoe
making. I made my first one when I was 14 years old; an old woman directed
me and showed me exactly how to put the parts together. It was the same size
as this one; 14 feet 2 inches long, 38 inches wide, and about 18 inches deep. No

one today wants to help me, nor learn. These boys you see around here watch
10 minutes and then run away.

SNOWSHOES AND TOBOGGANS

Snowshoes, well adapted for winter travel, were worn by both men
and women. Men’s snowshoes (a’gémak) often had pointed, upturned

118 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL 146

toes; women’s (ikwé’ddagémak), round toes. The framework of a
pair of men’s snowshoes on the Red Lake Reservation (19382) was made
of elder wood. One-half of the woven network, the center section,
was made of cowhide; the sections to the front and back of this, of
deerhide. When in use the foot was inserted into a strap of rags
fastened in the middle front section of the cowhide weave. “When
using these snowshoes, moccasins must be worn; shoes would get
caught in the network;” said the owner. “Without snowshoes I’d
never venture out to trap and hunt in the winter.”

A pair of men’s snowshoes on the Lac Courte Orielle Reservation
measured 46 inches in length and 1414 inches in greatest width (pl. 18).
The middle weaving (1414 inches in length) was of horsehide; that
to the front (9 inches in length) and to the back (14 inches in length),
of deerhide. The weaving of the middle section was held in place
by being tied over two bars, one toward toe end and the other toward
heel end; the bars also served to hold the framework in position. ‘The
strands used in weaving the back and front sections were passed
through holes in the same bars. ‘The wife of the owner had hung
the snowshoes on a limb of a tree about a rod from the home shortly
after her husband’s death. “I couldn’t bear to see them anymore;
they made me very lonesome,” she said.

In the spring of 1935 an aged woman on the same reservation had
made a pair of snowshoes for her son-in-law for fall hunting. The
larger weave was of horsehide; the smaller, of deerhide. “When
Indians find a dead horse, they usually remove its hide and use it in
making snowshoes,” she remarked.

Toboggans (nabagidob’anak, literally flat wagon on ice or snow)
were used by trappers and hunters in hauling game and furs. Several
informants had seen some but were unable to give details in the making
of them. (Cf. also Densmore, 1929, p. 136.) An interpreter remem-
bered one that her grandmother used when she first came from Canada:
it had been whittled out of a basswood tree, with a crooked knife.

BOWS AND ARROWS

Material used by informants in making bows and arrow shafts was
sinew of nettle twine, fish glue, and wood. Sinew was removed from
the spine of the horse, cow, deer, or moose and placed on a flat surface,
preferably a piece of timber, and allowed to dry. It was later smoked
in order to make it mothproof and flyproof. Dried sinew could be sev-
ered into strands fine enough to be used in making beadwork; several
strands together were used in sewing buckskin shirts, leggings, and
moccasins. Nine were used in making strings for bows and for tying
arrowheads to shafts. Sinew was being used by many women on the
reservations and was often seen hanging from rafters in homes.

HILcER] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 119

Cords for bow strings were made by drawing either strands of sinew
or the inner bark of the nettle (bigeg’awac) through the mouth to
moisten them and then rolling them over the calf of the right leg with
the palm of the right hand (pl. 19). The procedure was the same as
that used in making cords for fish nets (p. 125).

Bows varying in length from 4 feet to “as long as I am tall” (nearly
6 feet) were made of any wood that was strong and pliable, preferably
young oak or young ironwood. After the wood was planed with a
stone scraper, it was smoothed with sandpaper. Sandpaper was made
by pouring sturgeon glue over tanned moose hide and over this, soon
after drying set in, very fine sand. After lying in the sun for several
hours, preferably a half day, it was ready for use.

Arrow shafts were usually made of ironwood and were smoothed in
the same manner as bows. They varied in length, the standard length
being 214 feet. At one end arrows were fastened into grooves with
sinew. In order to produce better flying power, the opposite end was
tipped off with closely trimmed feathers split in half. The feathers
were dipped in glue, inserted into a slit at this end of the shaft, and
securely tied with several strands of sinew. Slight engravings were
made in shafts and overlaid with color. This enabled the owner to
identify his own. Bows, too, were frequently painted or engraved.

Arrowheads varied in sizes and in materials. Some were of flint;
some of copper; others of rib bone of moose, deer, buffalo, or any large
animal. “Not every man could make arrows; only certain ones in the
tribe could do that.” Informants knew of no one living that was
able to make flint or bone arrowheads. Informants believed that at
one time their people knew how to temper copper. Several old men
agreed that a copper arrowhead 4 inches in length and one at greatest
width found in the vicinity of New Post (Lac Courte Orielle Reser-
vation) had been used on a spear shaft; it8 weight was too heavy for
an arrow shaft. Arrowheads of iron were introduced by white traders.

Blunt arrows were used in hunting birds and small game, the blunt-
ness preventing the tearing of the flesh. Grooves were made on
either one or both sides of an arrowhead which was intended for
poisoning; grooves were packed with poisonous herbs. Another way
of poisoning an arrow was to dip both it and part of the shaft into a
mixture of water and rattlesnake poison. In either case the victim of
the arrow could not survive.

HUNTING *°

The chase provided the Chippewa with both food and clothing and
was, therefore, a chief occupation throughout the year. It was espe-
cially so in the winter when furs were heavier and animals were not

36 Cf. also Densmore (1929, pp. 109-111) and Hilger (1936 b, pp. 3, 17-19).

120 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLt. 146

bearing young. Families set out for their hunting grounds soon after
the cold weather began, about the beginning of November, and re-
turned to the winter camp only after the severe weather set in. They
hunted moose, elk, and deer; bear, wolf, and fox; beaver, otter, and
muskrat; mink, martin, fisher, and rabbit; partridge, ducks, and other
fowl; and buffalo, if they resided near the prairie lands.

Since hunting was a man’s duty, boys were taught the use of bow
and arrow at an early age. A boy’s first success in killing any animal
used as food was celebrated with a feast: all the village was invited and
the meat of the animal served as part of the main dish. “When my
brother caught his first deer, and later his bear, my mother prepared
the animal—head, hoofs and insides—and invited all the old people,”
said a Red Lake woman. The same celebration took place when a boy
caught his first fish. On the Lac Courte Orielle, the Vermilion, the
Nett Lake, and the Mille Lacs Reservations, these customs still prevail.
“The first bird I shot was a wild goose,” said a Lac Courte Orielle
informant. “I shot it with a bow and arrow directly through the head.
It flopped and flopped and flopped, but finally I caught it. I was
about 6 years old then, but since my father was a white man—he didn’t
believe in Indian ways—no feast was given for me, like that given for
other boys, even for boys here at New Post today.” A 88-year-old
Vermilion mother gave a feast (1932) when her son caught his first
fish. She invited mostly old people and served the fish as part of the
main dish. An old man made a speech so the boy would continue
being successful as he grew older.

The charm most effective in hunting on the Lac Courte Orielle
Reservation (1935) was the foetal inclusion found between the skin
and visceral lining of an animal—those for rabbit (bitawi’ wabés’) and
deer (bitawi’ wawec’kisi) predominating. At times, as many as three
inclusions were found in the same animal. “Once a man trapped a
male rabbit and brought it to me to skin,” said an informant. “Just
as I was removing the skin a bag about 2 inches long fell out. In it
were two small rabbits. I thought it was some kind of ‘medicine’
(magical power). I kept one and the other I gave tothe man. I kept
it for good luck, but I don’t remember that I ever used it.” An old
man sitting by remarked: “I carry a little rabbit around with me;
I have never found a little deer.”

“T heard recently,” said another hunter, “that foetal inclusions can
be used as lures when hunting, if hunters carry them upon their
person. One fellow here recently let someone carry his—a little deer,
completely grown except that it had three heads. It was found in a
male deer. The fellow who lent it said, ‘You will get deer!’ and he
did; he got eight deer! Lately a man who found a little rabbit under
a male rabbit skin threw it away not knowing its value. He got a

Hitenr] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 121

sound scolding from an old Indian for not saving it; the old man him-
self carried a bear. Deer brings deer; rabbit, rabbits; bear, bears!”

The Vermilion Chippewa had not heard of the charm of the foetal
inclusion but believed firmly that finding a fetus—a normal fetus—in a
rabbit shot in the fall meant good luck for the entire hunting season.
L’Anse Indians believed good luck in hunting would be theirs if they
hung skulls of beaver on rafters. A trout skull was hung up by the
jaw “inside or outside of the house for good luck in anything.” Skulls
of various animals were often seen hung from rafters. A Red Lake
hunter after smoking a weed found “somewhere out there in the woods,
in a Clean place,” invariably had good success; he smoked only if his
first attempt at hunting failed.

Meeting an owl in the woods, said a L’Anse informant, is a bad
omen: “I was out hunting a few years ago with a man from Flambeau
(Lac du Flambeau Reservation) who insisted on shooting an owl
which happened to be sitting on a branch along our way; not killing
it, he said, would bring bad luck. Old Indians who meet a fox when
out hunting will at once return home; hunting after that would be
useless.” Another L’Anse informant related his bad luck: “About 20
years ago when I was working across the bay, there were many deer in
that area. An old medicine man lived over there. We had no meat,
and although I hunted every day and even at night, I never saw a deer.
I would see tracks, but never a deer. Somebody told me that that
medicine man was using ‘bad medicine’ on me. I had noticed that
every time I’d go into the woods, an owl came from somewhere,
swooped ahead of me and sat on a limb. As soon as I caught up to it,
it would swoop in front of me again, and sit on a limb. Retracing my
steps, the owl repeated its conduct, always keeping to my right. So
one day I took a buckshot gun with me. The owl repeated its maneu-
vers, always keeping to the right of me. If I get a chance I’ll shoot
you, I thought. I shot, hit the owl and saw it slip down. I ran up to
it and stepped on it. <A noise like a human cry came from it three
times; it looked at me with its two eyes wide open and died. I stooped
to pick it up: there was nothing there except the hide and feathers, I
took these home and burnt them. After that I never failed to get deer.
Two or three days after I shot the owl, the medicine man took sick. He
asked to see me, but I wouldn’t go. Four days after that he died. That
medicine man had taken the shape of an owl and injured my hunting.”

Chippewa hunted game for sustenance all through the year, never,
however, was any animal killed wantonly. Although no particular
family laid claim to any area as its exclusive hunting ground, groups
of families that had for years migrated together for the purpose of
hunting returned seasonally to the same area. All respected each
other’s prerogatives. Informants had never heard of difficulties aris-

122 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 146

ing from overlapping of hunting grounds; they did know of serious
quarrels that had arisen because persons lifted game caught in traps
not their own. “This didn’t happen often; but it happened!”

The best season for deer hunting was “when the leaves began to fall :
the deer were fattest then and best tasting, as well.” Doe were not
shot while carrying or nursing young.

As noted before, some hunters used charms for good luck in hunting;
those who possessed tutelary power related to hunting exercised these
(pp. 45,47). Still others prepared themselves for the chase by giving
serious thought to what they were about to do. “The first time that
I went hunting my father called me: ‘Witigoc, [informant’s Indian
name], you are now ready to go hunting. (I was told this a few days
before we left home.) Don’t say anything disrespectful about the deer.
Don’t boast, saying, I am going to kill a deer, or I am going to shoot
two deer. Don’t talk that way. God made the deer so he can hear you
say that. Simply be quiet and don’t talk; and then you will get deer.’
The same respect is shown to moose.”

Impounding, one of several methods employed in hunting deer, was
done by cutting a lane through the woods. The deer was driven down
the path and impounded at the end in a space fenced off by saplings,
As many as were needed were shot with arrows.

Deer were also caught by means of snares made of a three-strand
braid of rawhide, each strand being about one-fourth inch wide. A
snare consisted of a noose hung at an angle of 45° and attached to
the heavy branches of a tree overhanging the path which the deer
were accustomed to take.

At night deer were caught by means of torches. Torches were
seldom used in open spaces, and never in the woods; they were of
greatest service when hunting from a canoe. When making torches
a Lac Courte Orielle informant gathered resin which had collected
at_ a gash which he had slashed in the trunk of a Norway or a
white pine several days previously. He heated the resin, saturated
rags with it, and while they were still hot wound them around the
end of a stick. In earlier days he had used birchbark in place of
rags. A White Earth hunter lined a birchbark cornucopia with moss
to prevent its burning and then filled it with small strips of birch-
bark dipped in liquid resin. A La Pointe hunter split one end of a
green sapling, 2 feet in length and an inch in diameter, into small
splinters and filled the space between the splinters with spruce pitch.
This torch threw light at a distance of 200 feet. When hunting deer
the torch was fastened to the prow of the canoe, occupants of the
canoe hiding behind a piece of bark that was either fastened behind
the torch or held there. Today lanterns commonly replace torches.
A Lac Courte Orielle hunter (1935) rested his lantern on a 6- by 18-

Hinonr] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE ZS

inch board which he had nailed to the prow of his boat. A board
8 inches square nailed at right angles to the end of the board nearest
him served as a shield.

When rustling of the twigs or breaking of dry sticks indicated the
advance of a deer, the torch or lantern was lit and light played about
in the area. Ifa deer was in the vicinity, he could easily be seen for
“his two eyes appeared like two shining lights. Deer will come toward
a light; they are enticed by it.” Flashlights have replaced lanterns
and torches, especially among the younger hunters today. In order
to leave his hands free to use his gun, the hunter fastens the light to
the crown of his hat and lights it only if a deer is thought near.

Deer are easily caught at artificial salt licks deposited by hunters
in the deer’s watering places. La Pointe Indians (1935) watched at
night in one such area on lumber laid in the crotch of a tree and in
another from a platform constructed of saplings. When a noise was
heard flashlights were played upon the space, the deer being easily
discerned because of the glare of their eyes.

“Yesterday while rowing around the end of Big Couderay, my
husband noticed a deer,” said a Lac Courte Orielle woman. “He put
salt on the old salt lick and toward nightfall returned, quietly lying
in his boat awaiting the deer. Soon he heard a noise, turned on his
flashlight—he keeps it securely fastened to the crown of his hat with
lens facing directly to the front—saw the deer’s eyes like two bright
lights, leveled his gun, and shot it.”

The “deer call,” a sound resembling the call of a fawn that attracts
doe, was made either by blowing through one’s folded hands, through
a roll of birchbark, or through a wooden implement. The father of
a Red Lake informant, when out hunting, heard the call of a doe, he -
thought; brush moved and thinking it was a fawn he fired his gun
only to find he had shot his friend. “My father grieved over this all
summer. Relatives did not resent it for my father had shown them
repeated kindnesses when he stayed at their home.”

Bears were caught in deadfalls in the early day. Informants either
had seen deadfalls when young or had helped to build them. They
were of wood and so constructed that the weight of the bear, as he
stepped forward to eat the bait, released a heavy suspended log which
fell upon him, pinning him down. Meat of any kind, including that
handled by human hands, as well as decayed meat served as bait. “A
bear is not particular. I recently saw one eating the decayed carcass
of a deer.” Maple sugar and fish were also used as bait.

After guns were introduced deadfalls were no longer used. The
grandfather of a Red Lake interpreter owned one of the first guns
in the area, “an old flint, a muzzle loader, which took three-quarters
of an hour to load. Any man who owned any kind of a gun in those

124 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buuy. 146

days was considered rich. One time, grandfather happened to come
upon a tree under which a bear was sitting. He shot at the bear but
missed him—just touched his ears. His dogs saved him; for during
the time he loaded his gun, they barked at the bear and kept him
at bay.” .

A Lac Courte Orielle informant had heard an old hunter tell how
he discovered the winter habitat of bears:

Shabagizig tells about this. In old days in the spring of the year—take a
warm day in spring—some fellow would wear snowshoes and go in the direction
of a bear lair. He’d beat the snow down with his snowshoes, the snow after
freezing making a trail. After dark, this person would get ready, put on his
coat, take his hatchet and strike out on the trail. He might go several miles
perhaps. It is night. Here is how he told it. This fellow would go along and
stand and listen, and stand and listen, and stand and listen. Pretty soon he
would hear something. He would hear bear yaps. Sometimes they came from
the ground; sometimes, from hollow trees. When he would hear the sound, he
would take his hatchet, cut a stick, and place it in the snow so that it would
point in the direction from which the yaps had come. The next day he and
some others would go out and find the bears there. [Hilger, 1936 ¢, p. 49.]

A successful bear hunter usually gave a feast at which bear meat
was served. While guests (1935) on the Lac Courte Orielle Reserva-
tion were sitting around waiting for such a dinner, the host passed
tobacco. “Some smoked it; some put it in the stove; I put mine in the
corner of my handkerchief and took it home. The man did this just
to follow the old custom. Bears are killed in fall and spring, not in
summer because then they are carrying their young; in winter, bears
live in hollow trees.”

Wolves were caught in traps *" or snares, but with great difficulty.
A less laborious way was to fasten a hooked stick to a tree with lower
end, the hooked end, 5 feet from the ground and at such an angle that
this end was 2 feet from the trunk of the tree. The wolf in jumping
for the meat which had been fastened to the hook was caught on the
hook, “just like a fish.”

Foxes were caught in snares, being enticed into them by the odor of
skunk. Skunk musk was scattered in the path on the side of the snare
opposite the one from which the fox was expected to come.

Rabbits, too, were caught in snares. Both fox and rabbit snares were
like the nooses used in catching deer (p. 122) except that the rawhide
strands were less heavy.

Beavers were speared close to the water with spearheads of copper.
Im order to shield his eyes from the reflected light a hunter covered
his head with buckskin or blanket.

Weasels, hunted only in winter when their fur was white, were
caught while eating a piece of meat or lard in which a piece of iron

87 For a good account of traps see Lips ( 1987, pp. 354-360).

Hinenr] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 125

had been frozen, the tongue by adhering to the iron caused death.
Martins and fishers were caught in traps baited with rabbit meat. All
human and other scent had been removed from traps by boiling.
All birds, except the humming bird, were edible and were killed
with blunt arrows.
FISHING

Both fresh and smoked fish constituted an important article of
food among the early Chippewa. Fishing for immediate use was
done at any time during the year. In fall it became a seasonal occu-
pation; groups of families moved to fish for winter storage. “AI-
though no one laid claim to any part of the shore nor to any part of
the lake, for persons could fish anywhere, all settled down where they
had always settled when fishing. All respected these same rights of
others.” L’Anse Indians have a tradition that Lake Superior and the
large lakes are theirs for fishing but that inland lakes should be left
unmolested. “I often heard my father say the old Indians believed
the inland lakes and the woods belonged to the animals. They would
never bathe in inland lakes. When passing through the woods the
father would lead, the children follow him and the mother bring up
the rear. They would stay in one line making only a single path and,
as it were, tell the animals and the earth that they were using this bit
of the land merely to go to another place. Children were told not
to run along the sides of the path but to stay in line. People used big
lakes, such as Keweenaw Bay and Lake Superior, as though they were
their own” (Hilger, 1936 b, p. 2).

Fishing, formerly, was done largely by means of nets, although fish-
hooks, spearheads, and traps were also used. Women generally used
nets, thus securing the best results in numbers and variety.

A Red Lake informant, a professional net maker, in making nets
used cord made from the inner bark of the basswood. (Some women
used nettles.) The bark, torn into fine strands, was boiled for about
one-half hour, and while still soft rolled over the bare side of the right
leg with the palm of the right hand (pl. 19, 7). Tf fibers become dry,
they are drawn through the mouth to be moistened with saliva (pl. 19,
2.). No knots were made in joining strands but the ends of two
strands were worked between molars and deftly rolled into each other
with fingers. Men who assisted rolled cord above the knee.

One old Red Lake informant’s great-grandmother made cords for
fish nets by boiling nettles, drying them, separating them into fibers,
dampening them by drawing them through the mouth, and then rolling
them on her leg. “This made fine cord for nets. She used to have
balls of it ready for use. That was long, long ago.” While rolling
basswood fiber women squatted on the ground.*

88 For vegetable fibers, see also Huron Smith (1932, pp. 411-423).

126 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLu. 146

The professional Red Lake net maker, referred to above, made nets
as recently as 1930, using quilling twine “bought at the store.” One
of her two shuttles (nabékwé’agons) was made of basswood; the other,
of a cigar-box cover (pl. 20,2). The former was 7 inches in length and
114 inches in width; the carrier of the thread was 25% inches in height,
the space for the release of the thread, 314 inches. The mesh of
the net as demonstrated was 2 by 2 inches. “This would catch pike,
perch, and suckers,” she remarked. Meshes were measured in the
making by pieces of wood (bimégi’migén) of various sizes, the size
to be used depending upon the kind of fish to be caught in the net.
A 2- by 25£-inch measure was used if pike, perch, and suckers were to
be caught; if “two-lippers,” a 3- by 24-inch; if whitefish, a 234- by 314-
inch. If the work was well done, our informant noted, the knots of
the mesh were immovable. In preparing to set a net as her mother
had taught her—the net incidentally had been made by her mother—
she held the end of a basswood fiber between her teeth and a stone
in her left hand while with her right hand she wound the fiber twice
tightly around the stone. She then tied a knot leaving the mouth
end long enough so that the stone by means of it could be tied to the
edge of the net. Fifteen stones, each about the size of a walnut, were
thus prepared and tied to the net, serving as sinkers. On the opposite
edge of the net and directly in line with the stones, she attached 15
floaters made of cedar wood. These varied in length from 27 to 29
inches, and weighed approximately 2 ounces each. <A second set of
floaters, also made of cedar wood, were 5 inches long by 2 inches in
diameter, the weight of each again being approximately 2 ounces.
A nicety of balance had to be estimated between floaters and sinkers.
Notchings, an inch from the narrow end of the fioater, permitted
fastening to net. When the net was set, the floaters stood erect in the
water with only the tips showing. The floaters are made and then the
size of the stones chosen, “very large ones would drag the net to the
bottom of the lake.”

Today Chippewa use factory-made nets. Families on the Red
Lake (1932 and 1939) and the L’Anse Reservations (1935) who were
fishing for commercial purposes owned from five to seven nets each.
Sinkers consisted of flat or rounded pieces of lead; floaters, of elon-
gated cylindrical pieces of wood attached to the net by having the cord,
forming the edge of the net, passed through the center. One such
net, 300 feet long and 3 feet wide (Red Lake Reservation), had 38
sinkers and as many floaters. Its mesh measured 17% inches square.
“One-and-three-fourths-inch squares would have caught many more
fish, but this is Government ruling.” The owner had paid $15.20 for
it. ‘The same informant owned a net measuring 300 feet in length and
8 feet in width.

HitgEr] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 127

On Keweenaw Bay (L’Anse, 1935) two young men each owned a net
200 feet long and 3 feet wide; each had 40 floaters and as many sinkers.
“We set these nets at seven this evening and expect to raise them at
four in the morning the day after tomorrow.” They were catching
lake trout, large-mouth black bass, and ciscos for commercial purposes.

Nets were thoroughly dried after each usage by being wound on
reels, hung on poles arranged lengthwise or in squares, or slid over
poles nailed in the form of a plus sign on top of a center pole (pls.
20,7; 21,2). Poles were peeled of bark and sandpapered so as not to
tear nets.

Fishhooks, in old days, were made of bone or wood. Twoold L’Anse
fishermen heard of a hook 2 inches long made of bone. Both ends had
been sharpened and the middle slightly grooved by means of stones,
the sliced end of a stick being securely tied into the groove with bass-
wood fiber. When fishing the pointed ends were tipped off with bait—
anything edible serving as bait. With a quick and skillful movement
a nibbling fish was hooked in the jaw. A Lac Courte Orielle fisher-
man when a boy made a wooden fishhook by removing bark of a 16-
to 20-foot maple sapling, about 2 inches in diameter. After hardening
one end of it over the heat of a fire he notched this end in two places
opposite each other, thus forming two hooks. Fish were grabbed
with either hook while the fisherman stood on the shore. Some in-
formants had heard old people tell of spearing fish with copper arrows,
“such arrows as were found when digging the canal between Hancock
and Houghton, Mich.”

At night fish were enticed by torchlight. One old informant when
young had made such a torch by burning roots of Norway pine in a
basketlike holder made of old wire which he attached to an iron rod
extending from the prow of his canoe. Roots dug about noon and
dried in the sun burnt brightly by evening. More recently he had
used rags saturated in kerosene in place of pine roots; his neighbors
were using discarded automobile tires. Fish, attracted by the light,
were both hooked and speared. Fish, whether hooked, speared, or
netted, were often killed upon landing by being clubbed. Clubs were
made of knots of trees: the knot formed the club and an attached por-
tion of the trunk of the tree, the handle.

In winter fishing was often done through a hole in the ice made with
achisel. In making a chisel a bent piece of iron, sharpened at one end,
was inserted into a stout piece of wood and securely fastened there by
means of strips of buckskin.

A group of four families, probably not unlike those of early days,
had settled on the Narrows of Red Lake for the fishing season of 1932.
Women of two of the families were daughters of a third; the fourth
family were friends—a young couple with a baby. The old couple

128 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Bun. 146

occupied a canvas-covered tipi of 12 poles, plus 2 used in controlling
wind flaps that regulated the draft. One daughter and her family
lived in a wigwam, a framework of saplings covered with canvas; the
remaining two families lived together in a commercial canvas tent.
Floors of all places were covered with bedding; corners were filled
with wooden boxes and pasteboard cartons used in transporting be-
longings. Dishes and cooking utensils were seen on the outside of
each home, indicating eating apart. Toward the center of the group-
ing, under a long rack, fire was smouldering in two places, charcoal
being in evidence ina third. (See outdoor fireplaces, pls. 30, 7, 2,; 31,
2,3.) The rack consisted of several stout 12-foot ironwood saplings, the
ends of which either rested in crotches of two poles found at each end of
the fireplace or were fastened to the poles with basswood fiber. The two
end poles were firmly planted in the ground in the position of an X.
All were held in position by being firmly tied together with basswood
fiber. Pails and kettles used for cooking purposes were hanging from
crotched sticks attached to the horizontal poles. Astride the poles
with bellies up hung skinned fish, slit down the back, backbone and
entrails removed. These were being dried and cured in the smoke of
the smouldering fires. “It will take about 2 days to smoke these fish;
after that we can pack them to take home. These belong to me,”
remarked the old woman, “but there’s room on the rack for everybody.
We all cook here, too.” A short distance away in a small excavation
on the side of an embankment, two large whitefish were broiling over
a slow fire. One end ofa stick had been thrust under the lower jaw of
the fish; the other was planted in the ground in a slanting position.
Neither heads, scales, nor entrails had been removed. “We'll have
these for supper in a little while,” said one of the men as he poked the
fire. Several large rolls of birchbark, many pieces sewed together
since they were intended for a wigwam covering, were used in protect-
ing belongings left outside against rain. They were not needed for
the wigwam since the friend had brought a canvas cover. Seven par-
tially tanned hides, both deer and moose, lay in a pile nearby; one was
tautly stretched on a framework of saplings and exposed to the sun on
the shore. On the shore, also, nets were drying, having been hung
from pole to pole, thus giving the appearance of a high fence. It was
about 3 o’clock in the afternoon. Two men were mending a boat;
others were lounging in the shade of trees. The old woman, using a
bone awl as needle and sinew as thread, was sewing herself a pair of
buckskin moccasins. “Since they are for myself, I am not decorating
them with beads,” she remarked. Her work kit, a piece of buckskin,
contained also a bone flesher made of moose tibia. “It’s a very old
one, but the best thing Town.” One of the younger women was sitting
against a tree nearby swinging the hammock in which her baby was

Hincrr] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 129

asleep. (See pl. 3 for hammocks.) A cradleboard rested against a
tree. The other two women were soon to return with groceries. At
about 5 o’clock, after a lunch, all were going out to set nets. In the
early days, the time for setting nets was sundown. A notice posted in
various places along the shores of Red Lake by the manager of the Red
Lake Fishers’ Association (a cooperative enterprise owned and con-
trolled by the Red Lake Chippewa) advised all persons fishing for the
Association to set nets at 5 o’clock in the evening and to take them in
between 4 and 5 o’clock in the morning, “since this gave everybody
ample time to pick blueberries and to attend to gardens.” It took two
persons to set.a net but only one to draw it up.

During fishing season on the Red Lake Reservation (1932) men
drew up the nets between 4 and 5 o’clock in the morning (pl. 21, 1).
Women came later bringing the men’s breakfast. All nets were
brought ashore, women busying themselves sorting fish and removing
entrails; men assisted as soon as they had eaten breakfast. Specified
sizes of pike, pickerel, perch, and whitefish were marketable; odd sizes
were either kept for family consumption or given to old people or to
those who were unable to fish. Crappies, suckers, and rock bass were
discarded. Of the fish found in one woman’s net one morning in 1922,
41 were marketable. Her earnings during the season varied from 5
to 10 dollars a day. (By order of the manager of the Red Lake
Fishers’ Association the season had opened on July 7 and was to close
on August 17.) After the marketable fish had been packed in boxes
of ice furnished by the Red Lake Fishers’ Association, men rowed
out into the Jake and discarded all offal. The women in the meantime
hung up the nets to dry and all went home; the time was between 9
and 10 o’clock in the morning.

Fishing was done on a fain commercial basis on the L’Anse Res-
ervation in 1935. The fish, however, were’ collected by “fish trains”—
freight trains that farrohedl ice and boxes, and collected fish early each
morning, transporting them to Chicago.

CLOTHING

In the early days adults wore clothing made of finely tanned hides
of deer, moose, bear, and elk; and of dressed skins of rabbit, beaver,
and other small fur-bearing animals. Children’s clothing was made
of delicately tanned fawn hides and of skins of beaver, squirrel, and
rabbits, whenever these were available.

Tanning hides and dressing skins were a woman’s work, but girls,
no older than 13 years, assisted. “After a girl had spent her days in
her little hut, she was thought old enough to learn everything a woman
was expected to know” (p. 52).

884216—51——10

130 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Bun. 146

Although tanned hides and skins no longer form the clothing of
Chippewa, articles of wearing apparel made of them, such as mocca- |
sins, jackets, and gloves, were being worn by men, women, and children
on every reservation. Tanned deer or moose hide were also being
used in making tobacco pouches, money bags, and tool kits; headbands,
bracelets, and ceremonial dance outfits, many of these being beaded;
straps on cradleboards, wood carriers, and working tools; and network
for snowshoes.

Chippewa women on all reservations were tanning hides by old
methods. A Lac Courte Orielle informant who had learned tanning
from her mother removed all flesh (gidjébi’nag) when the hide was
still fresh, washed the bloodstains from it, and then soaked it in a pail
of clear water for 3 days. After wringing it out tightly by hand, she
fastened it to a large branch of a tree with a rope passed through the
hole left by the removal of the head. She then held the hide tautly
near the tail end with her left hand, while with the right she scraped
off the hair with a butcher knife, moving across the hide, first to her
right and then to her left; strokes were away from her body. This
process is called cigdwe’cigé. She next soaked the hide over night in
a pail of water in which deer brain had been boiled. This process is
called nigdgan’gina. The brain of any animal might have been used;
and in the event no brain had been available, a raw egg well beaten and
mixed with a pail of lukewarm water would have served the purpose.
On the following morning she wrung out the hide by holding the head
end in her right hand and tightly winding the hide about the same
hand, wrist, and arm (pl. 22, 7).

She next unfolded the hide and hung it, head and tail ends meeting
over the top pole of a rectangular framework which she had erected
the previous day for the purpose of stretching the hide. She then
rolled the hide from both sides toward head-to-tail line, placed it
around a tree (protecting it from the rough bark by a towel which she
had fastened snugly about the tree), carefully unrolled the ends,
placed one over the other about a hand’s length, rolled them together
so that they were tightly fastened into each other, placed a stout,
smooth round stick into the overlapped ends, and then twisted the
hide tightly against the tree, first to right and then to left. Wring-
ing out the hide in this way is called sinakwé’gas (pl. 22, 2.)

The hide was next unrolled and placed on a “horse,” a contrivance
(apakwi’gon), made by resting one end of a very smooth 6-foot log on
the vertex of two raised boards while the other end rested on the
ground. It is essential that the log be very smooth, so as not to tear
the hide. The informant now standing close to the raised end of the
“horse” scraped both sides of the hide, stroking away from the body;
this removed any hair, flesh, or moisture that had escaped previous

Hitene] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 131

treatment. This procedure she called dicakwa’gon (pl. 22, 3). The
scraper (gigdkwa’cigon) made by her husband, was a 5-inch butcher-
knife blade inserted lengthwise into a 19-inch piece of oak; the 7-inch
extension of wood on either side of the blade formed handles. (On the
Red Lake Reservation a 9-inch blade had been inserted in a 21-inch
ironwood sapling, handles extending 6 inches on either side.)

After the scraping the informant stretched the hide in all directions
(pl. 22, 4). Holes about 3 inches apart were next pierced along the
entire edge of the hide. A stout rope made by braiding three strands
of twine was passed successively through these holes and over the top
rod of the stretcher. This process continued clockwise until the hide
was fastened to all four poles of the framework and tautly stretched
there (pl. 23, 7). Basswood fiber, when available, was preferred to
rope.

The stretcher (sakana’tigon) had been made by nailing two hori-
zontal rods about 9 inches from ends of two vertical ones. The frame-
work thus formed was 72 by 55 inches and stood 10 inches above the
ground.

The hide after having been tautly stretched was scraped with a
chisel-like iron implement (nécigaé’g6n) 11 inches in length with one
edge flattened and bent at nearly right angles to handle. The scraper
thus formed was 21% inches in width and 114 inches deep (pl. 23; 2).
In scraping, the left hand guided the implement while the right-hand
exerted pressure (pl. 23, 2). The entire surface was scraped in all
directions, with strokes toward worker. This process is called
cicakwé’agée. Since the hide stretched under this treatment, the rope
was adjusted from time to time to keep it taut. Of the entire tanning
process this was the most laborious, the entire weight of the body hav-
ing to be placed on the implement and treatment continued until the
hide was dry. Humid days required less energetic work than dry ones
did. In this instance—a damp day—scraping took a little longer
than 3 hours. The smoothness and softness of the hide depended
upon the dexterity with which the scraping was done.

After the hide was dry the informant removed it from the stretcher,
laid it on the ground folding it on head-to-tail line, turned both edges
over together, and beginning with head end fastened them together
by means of clothespins. This made a nearly airtight compartment
(pl. 23, 3).2° In former days edges were sewed together tightly with
basswood fiber. The head end of the hide was next fastened to the
branch of a tree; the tail end placed so it encircled the rim of a pail
ofsmudge. This process was called sowa’sigon. Two granddaughters,
aged 8 and 11 years, who had assisted the worker by handing her

#9 Cf. also Densmore (1919, vol. 70, p. 117) for photographs of a Chippewa woman
adjusting a deer hide in the process of smoking.

132 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buun. 146 |

implements and cord, had prepared the smudge by placing bits of
birchbark on burning embers fetched from the kitchen stove and
packing the remainder of the pail with white-pine and Norway cones.
Punk was sometimes used in place of cones since it was less inflam-
mable. Jack pine cones were not used; they give an unsatisfactory
color.

The worker swung the pail back and forth several times to enhance
the smudge and then placed it under the hide, holding it there care-
fully so as to permit the hide to fill with smoke. The informant kept
a watchful eye on the fire lest flames shoot up and scorch the hide.
Occasionally she peeked into the hide to ascertain the color. When
it was sufficiently tanned, she loosened the clothespins, turned and
folded the edges and again pinned them. She then tanned the reverse
side. Smoking not only gave color to hides but preserved them from
moths. Smoking the hide thus is called sowagigé’akwans.

If the hides are not sufficiently softened with one scraping, or if
they are scorched in the smoking, the entire procedure—soaking in
brain or egg solution, wringing out, stretching, scraping and smok-
ing—is repeated. “When I was about 5 years old,” the informant
related, “I was playing around where my mother and her cousin were
tanning hides. Two hides had been sewed up, hung up on poles, and
were being smoked. First one shot up into the air and then the other.
Both had caught fire while the women were chatting. The whole
process of tanning, from soaking to smoking, had to be repeated.
But when they were finished, they were like silk.” Moose hides were
tanned in the same manner as deer hides. Bear hides were treated
only on the fleshy side. They were used for bed coverings, mattresses,
and floor mats.

On the La Pointe Reservation, an informant preferred pine punk
or crushed cedar bark to cones in making smudge since these are less
inflammable. She also added a tablespoonful of soda to the brain solu-
tion when soaking the hide. A Red Lake informant had to supply
deer brain to the woman whom she hired to tan hides. “She says she
cannot tan them unless she uses brains. I must give her a head with
every hide.” At Red Lake, too, hides were exposed over smudges made
in holes in the ground.

A Red Lake informant used a flesher made of 6 inches of moose tibia.
When in use she held the knee-joint end in her right hand while with
the other end, chiseled to a slanting edge and serrated, she removed
the flesh with abrupt strokes. When gripped for use the palm of the
hand faced the hide, and the small finger, the serrated part of the
flesher. Strokes were away from the body. The implement was loosely
fastened to her wrist with a band of tanned hide.

Hitcer] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 133

Often articles of clothing made of tanned hide were decorated with
porcupine quills or beads.*° Informants knew of only one Chippewa
who was using porcupine quills at the present time. Women were
seen on all reservations using beads of various colors in decorating
moccasins. On all reservations, too, some individuals owned beaded
buckskin suits or dresses which were worn at the annual pow-wows
(pl. 11). Designs consisted of conventionalized flowers, leaves, or
fruit.

On the L’Anse Reservation rabbitskins were treated by having the
flesh side thoroughly soaked with wet salt, soda, and soap. Later
they were gently rubbed and scraped. Great care had to be exer-
cised since the hides were very tender. The hair was not removed.

Bed coverings and blankets worn by adults were made of rabbit-
skins. L’Anse informants either sewed the skins together edge to
edge (furry side was then used nearest the body), or sewed together
braids made of four 3-inch strands of skin extending the full length
of the robe. A braided robe on the L?Anse Reservation was nearly
2 inches in thickness and in size that of an ordinary comforter for a
double bed. Vermilion Chippewa neither tanned nor salted rabbit-
skins but merely dried them in the sun. Robes were made by looping
and knotting strands of skin (cf. pp. 26-27).

Head, neck, feet, and ankles of both adults and children were often
kept warm by being wrapped in rabbitskins with the fur nearest
the body.

BIRCHBARK CONTAINERS AND BULRUSH MATS

Chippewa women, when gathering birchbark, tramp through the
woods all day, walking miles in search of a suitable bark. Birchbark
is gathered from the time the leaves of the birch have completely
unfolded to the end of July, the bark being most easily removed dur-
ing this time. A Lac Courte Orielle informant clutched her pocket
knife in her right hand with blade extending beyond her little finger
and carefully cut the outer bark (only the outer bark is removed)
from a place as high as she could reach, down to the root. In remov-
ing the bark she moved clockwise around the tree, loosening it care-
fully with both hands so as not to break it. Removing bark from
growing birch does not injure the tree. “When large pieces of bark
are needed, such as are used in making canoes, trees are felled and
stripped. Large birch trees are very scarce today,” she noted.

The bark is either rolled or folded at the place of gathering, tied
with basswood fiber, packed on the back of the gatherer, and brought

4°Cf. Densmore (1929, pp. 35, 161, 172, 191-192; 1928, pp. 390-397) and Lyford
(1943) for patterns used in beadwork. For plates showing patterns made by biting
birchbark, see Densmore (1928, pls. 59-63).

134 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Bunn. 146

home for storage.*t Somewhere either inside or outside of homes in
which aged women lived, rolls or folded packets of birchbark were
seen.

Chippewa women make both leakable and nonleakable birchbark
receptacles (pl. 24). In making leakable ones, such as serve for
workbaskets, for storage of food, and for trays for winnowing wild
rice, the birchbark is cut and the seams are sewed with basswood fiber.

Three sewing baskets were collected on the Red Lake Reservation.
One measured 9 by 814 inches at the opening and 31% inches in depth
(pl. 24,3 a). Two circular ones were each 514 inches in depth. One
measured 10 inches in diameter at the opening and 7 inches at the |
bottom; the other, 7 inches at the opening and 6 inches at the bottom.

Makok’, trapezoidal-shaped containers (pl. 24, 3 6), were used for
storing maple sugar and wild rice, and as buckets when carrying
berries long distances. Small ones were tied to the belt of the picker
while picking. ‘The handles of buckets were usually made of wood
or of basswood fiber. Three that were being used for storing maple
sugar were collected on the Red-Lake Reservation. The depth of one
was 101% inches; the opening, 11 by 514 inches; the base, 13 by 814
(pl. 24,36). Another measured 514 inches in depth, 7 by 5 inches at
the opening, and 814 by 5 inches at the base. A smaller one—one
filled with maple sugar (weight 114 pounds)—was 3 inches deep and
41% by 314 inches at the base. A berry-picking bucket collected on
the Lac Courte Orielle Reservation was 7 by 61% inches and 3 inches
deep.

A tray used in winnowing wild rice on the Vermilion Reservation
measured 20 by 14 inches across the opening, 17 by 12 inches at the
base and 6 inches in depth (pl. 24, 7). One collected on the Red Lake
Reservation was 17 by 12 across the opening and 3 inches deep (pl.
24,3¢). One used on the Lac Courte Orielle Reservation was 24 by 16
at the opening and 6 inches in depth.

Bark used for nonleakable containers is folded, never cut. Before
present-day dishes were available, nonleakable receptacles had many
uses; today they are used almost exclusively for gathering maple
sap, some women making several hundred for this purpose during
_ winter months. Sizes vary; average-size ones are approximately
18 inches in length and 9 in width. One found in a maple grove on
the Red Lake Reservation is 10 by 13 inches and 5 inches deep
(pl. 24, 2, one at right).

A Red Lake informant made a nonleakable dish by cutting a piece
of birchbark in rectangular shape—the size for dishes used in serving
soups or liquids. She quickly passed both sides of one end several

“Cf. Densmore (1919, vol. 70, pp. 114-118) for photographs on collecting and packing
birchbark.

Hivene] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 135

times over a small fire on the ground (pl. 25, 7) and promptly folded
that end into two folds slightly overlapping. (The bark can be
variously bent once heated.) She pierced the folds and side simul-
taneously with an iron awl and tied them together with basswood
fiber (pl. 25,2). (Formerly awls were made of bone of moose or some
other large animal.) ‘She moistened the fiber with saliva by passing
it back and forth between her lips several times. This made it more
flexible. Next she rolled it between first finger and thumb, dried it
over the fire, and passed it through the hole made by the awl. After
this she heated the opposite end of the bark, folded it, and tied it in
the same way (pl. 25, 3). When completed the dish was 5 by 4%%
inches and 2 inches deep (pl. 25, 4).

A Red Lake informant not wishing to pass up some ripe choke-
cherries on her way home through the woods one day made a similar
receptacle using a thorn of the thornapple tree as an awl.

Basswood fiber (wigdb’) is made by removing the inner bark of
the basswood tree, tearing it into long strips while wet, folding these
into small bundles about the length of the hand, boiling and then dry-
ing them. Dried fibers can be pulled apart into various widths—
widths depending upon the use for which they are intended. Strands
of the same width are tied into small bundles and stored for future
use. The bark is gathered in June and July since it is most easily re-
moved then.#

Basswood fiber was being used, during the period of research cov-
ered in this study, in sewing birchbark receptacles, in tying together
poles of tripods or racks used in cooking, in tying floaters and sinkers
to fish nets, and for tying purposes in general. One informant, in
preparing warp used in making rush mats, drew two strands of the
fiber between her lips to dampen them, and then with the palm of
her hand rolled these over the bare shin of her right leg (pl. 19).
One woman who had shins crusted from the friction of the fiber,
used the thigh for rolling. Formerly basswood fiber was also used
in making traps and fish nets.

Cracks in birchbark receptacles today are mended as formerly
with heated resin. Resin that has oozed for a year in gashes made
in spruce trees is gathered, whittled, placed in bags loosely woven
of fine strands of basswood fiber, and boiled in water (pl. 138, 7).
As the heated resin comes to the top it is instantly removed—long
boiling makes it brittle—poured into birchbark dishes, and stored
for future use. Women usually have a supply on hand. The bass-
wood-fiber bag serves as a sieve, retaining bark and dirt.

42 Cf. also Jones (1936, vol. 22, pp. 1-14) for preparation and uses of basswood fiber by the
Chippewa and other Indians of the Great Lakes region; and (1935, vol. 21, pp. 21-31)
for uses of sweetgrass in handicrafts and as perfume and incense.

136 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buu. 146

Makok’ and work baskets were sometimes decorated with designs.
An informant, after drawing the outline of a spray of maple leaves
on the birchbark of her makok’ soaked the makok’ in water for more
than a day after which she scraped off the top layer of all the bark
except the leaves. On drying, the leaves were given prominence be-
cause of their darker hue (pl. 24, 3 6).

Porcupine quills, used in decorating birchbark and deer hides,
were removed from the animal, while it was still warm, with the aid
of a butcher knife. A La Pointe informant dyed quills by soaking
them in a decoction made by boiling alder bark or the roots of the
“owl root” (kokoko djibik’). A L’Anse woman soaked hers in a de-
coction made by boiling mud from Copper River.

Bulrush mats were used as floor mats, the family squatting on
them indoors and outdoors, especially when the ground was damp;
as “tables” on which meals were served; and as coverings for wig-
wams (pl. 26, 7).

Women both gathered the material and made the bulrush mats
(nikon) (cf. also Kinietz and Jones, 1942, vol. 27, pp. 525-527, pls.
1-3). Although bulrushes growing near the edge of any lake or river
were usable, the ones in small lakes were choicest since they were least
brittle. Those grown in rivers were not used because of their short-
ness, unless lake-grown ones were not available. Today, as in days
past, rushes are pulled up by the roots or cut with a knife, tied in
bundles, boiled until the green color has disappeared, and spread
out in the sun to bleach. Bleaching continues during the sunny hours
of 6 or 7 days, the rushes being turned several times each day in
order to give sun exposure to all sides. They are taken in at sunset
before the dew falls—dew causes them to turn yellow while in the
process of bleaching. Weaving, however, is done in the morning
while the dew is still on the mat; dry reeds break easily. Should
any reeds become dry, the weaver squirts mouthfuls of water on them,
thus keeping them pliable.

Mats used as “tables” or for squatting on were often woven in col-
ored designs—designs “planned in the head of the weaver.” On the
La Pointe Reservation reeds were dyed yellow by being boiled either
in a substance (probably a mineral) found in a certain creek or in
decoctionis of finely chopped bark and twigs of hazelnut and sumach.
Red color was procured by boiling them in decoctions of roots of
either the bloodroot, the “owl-plant” root (k6k6k6 djibik’), or the
inner and outer bark of the wado’pe. Hemlock bark produced a
purple dye; bark of the alder tree, mahogany; black muck found in
certain ponds, a black color.

On the L’Anse Reservation red dye was made by boiling either
roots of a red fungus found on decayed wood or earth found in the

HILcEr] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE) 137

Copper River or bark of alder and hemlock—“the more the bark was
boiled the redder the color became.” Red, green, and blue streaks
found in decayed roots of the maple tree made corresponding colors
when boiled. One informant swished bulrush reeds in ashes of the
outer bark of the poplar tree thereby making them “pitch black.”

On the Lac Courte Orielle Reservation, informants had boiled
root of bloodroot for a brown-orange color and bark of butternut
for black. L’Anse informants had not used either of these, nor sumach.
Red Lake informants had boiled black muck for black, roots of blood-
root for red, and bark of alder for mahogany. Some informants
boiled reeds in decoctions; others soaked them over night. Boiling,
said some, made them too soft. Reeds formed the woof in weaving;
basswood twine, the warp (cf. also Densmore, 1929, pp. 154-161).

Mats placed around the interior of wigwams to keep drafts from
blowing in were made of cattails (Aapoékwa’ yok) or of cedar bark. Both
bulrush and cattail mats were being made on the Mille Lacs
Reservation in 1940.

DWELLINGS

The principal types of dwellings of the Chippewa were the wig-
wam, the bark house, the peaked lodge, and occasionally the tipi. The
framework of all types consisted of saplings, and the cover of either
bark alone or of bark and rush mats (cf. also Bushnell, 1919 a, pp.
609-618). |

A wigwam was constructed by driving saplings, usually peeled
ironwood, securely into the ground in either a circle or in an elipse.
Opposite poles were brought together in arches, overlapped, and tied
with green basswood fiber (pl. 28,2). In some instances the sides were
covered with bulrush mats and the top with birchbark (pl. 26, 7;
27, 2); in others, the framework was entirely covered with bark
(pl. 26, 2). Coverings at times were held in position by being over-
laid with cords of basswood fiber, the ends of which were weighted
with stones or pieces of wood (pls. 26, 7; 28, 4). Sometimes poles
were leaned against the sides of the wigwam (pl. 27, 7). Women
carried the rush mats and birchbark coverings on their backs from
camp to camp as the family followed its seasonal occupation. Frame-
works were left in the localities and used successive years. If bark
other than that of the birch was used, the entire wigwam was left
intact from season to season (pl. 26, 2).

A hide was used to cover the entrance. The upper end was fas-
tened to the wigwam while the ground end was weighted horizontally
with a stick or pole. (Today cloth has replaced the hide.) If the
wind blew so strongly through the usual entrance, it was closed by

For plants used as dyes, see also Densmore (1928, pp. 369-374) and Huron Smith
(1932, vol. 4, pp. 424-426).

138 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLu. 146

placing a pile of stones on the lower end of the hide; an opening was
then made by separating the bulrush mats in the opposite side of
the wigwam.

Circular wigwams housed only one family; elongated ones, one or
several. An informant remembered that when a child his family
occupied a wigwam with three other families, each family having a
separate fireplace and tripod.

In the building of a wigwam the women salbeted. cut, and peeled
the poles, pulled the pale ne and made the mats, collected birch-
bark and sewed it together, and placed the coverings over the frame-
work. The man drove the poles into the ground, bent them, and held
them in arched position until the women had tied them.

Because of the difficulty in certain localities of finding large birch
from which wide strips of bark can be removed, the bark of the elm,
tamarack, Norway pine, and ash are used as substitutes. One also
finds these barks used as substitute for bulrush mats. Consequently
coverings for wigwams may be entirely of bark.

Wigwams or frameworks were seen on all reservations except
L’Anse, either in sugar bushes, on shores of lakes producing wild rice,
in blueberry patches, or near Midé’wiwin lodges. The framework of
seven circular wigwams occupied during the Midé’wiwin celebration
were seen near the Midé’ lodge on the Lac Courte Orielle Reservation
(1935). One was 14 feet in diameter and 614 feet in height; its en-
trance was 4 feet 11 inches high and 2 feet wide. The keepers of the
drum, a medicine man and his wife, occupied an elongated one nearby,
covered with bulrush mats and birchbark. Plate 26, 7, shows seams
between pieces of birchbark, and poles sewed to the edges to prevent
tearing. When camp moved, the bark was rolled on these poles and
packed on backs of women.

A wigwam (pl. 28, 4) used as an all-year-round dwelling on the
Mille Lacs Reservation was 18 feet long, 17 feet wide, and 7 feet high.
The framework consisted of 9 saplings extending lengthwise, 11 cross-
wise and 6 encircling ones. All were tied at points of junction with
basswood fiber. Strips of bark of the black ash, each about 514 feet
in width, were tied to the outside lower frame; the upper ends were
neatly trimmed off in zigzag edges. Sheets of birchbark about 10
feet long and 4 feet wide, made by sewing together pieces of the bark
and ending them off with strips of cedar wood, were laid across the
top for roofing. All coverings were held in position by being weighted
down with strands of basswood fiber, to ends of which, on opposite
sides of the wigwam, trunks of young trees were tied. Stones rested
in several places along the trunks, adding further weight to the
strands. The entrance was 30 by 69 inches.

A mother and her two daughters had erected a wigwam (pl. 28, 7)
to be used as a dwelling for the summer months of 1940 near

HinguR] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 139

2 well-traveled road (Mille Lacs Reservation). They were selling
birchbark articles to tourists. The length of the wigwam was 12
feet; the width, 11 feet; the height, 514 feet. Five saplings placed
lengthwise and seven placed crosswise formed the framework. Poles
were tied together with basswood fiber at points of meeting. Cattail
mats, 49 inches in width, had been placed about the entire outside
lower section; pressboard and tar paper covered the top. (The cat-
tail mats had been made in the fall of 1939.) All was weighted down
with poles tied to the ends of a network of basswood fiber, nine strands
running lengthwise and eight crosswise. The entrance was 24 by 63
inches,

A wigwam and a tipi were erected by a 45-year-old woman, her
Jaughter, and another woman at Mille Lacs Indian Trading Post in
June 1940 (pls. 28, 3; 29, 7, 2). The wigwam was 12 feet long, 11
feet wide, and 6 feet high. The framework consisted of 4 saplings
»xtending lengthwise, 4 crosswise, and 4 encircling ones. Cattail mats,
50 inches wide, covered the sides; sheets of birchbark sewed together,
he roof.

The following account records additional information regarding
wigwams:

Several wigwams of the more recent type were found in blueberry patches on
the Red Lake Reservation in 1932. The lower section of the walls of one of
hese, the part traditionally covered with bulrush mats, was covered with the
yark of black ash. The upper section of the walls and the roof, the sections
‘formerly covered with birch bark, were covered with the barks of Norway pine
and black ash ; the top and upper sides were covered with only the bark of Norway
nine. The lower bark was tied to the framework with basswood fiber, while the
-oof was kept in place by being weighted down with a network of twine ropes
it the end of which, about six feet from the ground, poles were fastened -as
veights. This particular wigwam was twelve feet in diameter and eight feet in
1eight. Another wigwam in the same blueberry’patch, an elongated one, was
sixteen feet long, twelve feet wide, and eight feet high. Its lower walls were of
ark of black ash; the top and upper sides were of birch bark. Each wigwam
1ad an entrance about three feet wide and six feet high. None of the wigwams
1ad smoke holes, cooking undoubtedly having been done out-of-doors over open
ires, for tripods, cinders, and flat stones—the latter used in shutting off the
vind—were in evidence nearby. In the interior were platforms of lumber,
levated about a foot from the ground, which served as beds.

Mrs. Peter Everywind of Red Lake was using a wigwam for a storage house
n 1982. She herself had built it. The walls were of bark of the black ash, and
he roof, of that of the cedar tree. The interior upper ends had been prettily
ut in zigzag pattern. “I wanted it to look nice on the inside,” she said. “I
guilt it well in every way, and I haven’t had to repair it since I built it, way
yack in 1922.”

Wigwams were seen on the White Earth Reservation in the summer of 1988 .. .
[wo families were occupying one as a dwelling during the spring Midé wiwin at
Ponsford. Its framework, twelve by sixteen by six feet in height, was of
ronwood saplings and the roof was of birch bark. The traditional bulrush
nats, however, had been replaced by old blankets and pieces of calico. Hight

140 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buun. 146

poles laid against the outside weighted down the bark. From the center of the
roof a stovepipe protruded, and an old blanket served as a door.

Skeletal frameworks of four other wigwams were found near homes. Three
of these were in the wild-rice area near Rice Lake and were used by relatives
of the owners during the wild-rice season. It was interesting to note that all
three, although entirely exposed to the weather, were used as storage places
during the summer. Two were nearly filled with birch-bark rolls and with
implements used in wild rice gathering and maple sugar-making; the third
contained wash tubs and firewood.

A fourth one, seen in the Ponsford area, was in the process of construction.
A 30-year-old woman noted that she had completed the framework and had
the birch-bark rolls for the roofing ready, but that she lacked the bulrush mats.
Her mother, fifty-two years of age, had in mind to make these. The wigwam
was for her aged grandparents, a grandfather probably one hundred years old
and a grandmother nearly that. They had complained so many times that they
were uncomfortable in their tar-paper shack. It was hot in summer and cold
and full of bedbugs in winter. And she added, “The old man says before the
Whites came, the Chippewa had no bedbugs nor smallpox nor tuberculosis!”
It is interesting to note that Chippewa who were constructing, occupying, or
owning wigwams in the summers of 1932, 1933, 1935, and 1938 were members
of the Midé wiwin.

Although bark wigwams were found on all Chippewa reservations visited,
few were intended for all-year-round dwellings. If found near homes, they
were used for sleeping purposes during the summer months, or possibly as
storage places. Those found scattered in berry patches, in sugar bushes, along
lakeshores where wild rice is gathered, and in places where the Midé wiwin is
held, were occupied only seasonally.“

The bark lodge used by the Chippewa gave the appearance of a
one-room, low, gable-roof cottage. ‘The entire framework consisted
of saplings of ironwood or elm. The coverings of walls and roof
were bark of the birch, cedar, Norway pine, elm, or tamarack. A
96-year-old White Earth man recalled that previous to sawmill
days, nearly all the Indians in their vicinity lived in bark houses.
The framework of several was seen in wild-rice camps on the same
reservation in 1938. An old Lac Courte Orielle informant as a child
lived in an elm bark house with a gabled roof at Jump River near
Chippewa Falls, Wis.

The peaked lodge consisted of poles so planted as to form two
sloping sides, giving the appearance of a high-pitched gabled roof
squatting on the ground. The ends of the poles used for forming
the sides were held in place by being tied to a horizontal pole at the
ridge. Any of the barks used in constructing wigwams served as
coverings for the sides. Each end served as an entrance; the cross-
ing of the poles provided space for the emission of smoke. Such a
lodge usually accommodated three or four families. The only peaked
lodge that came to the writer’s notice or was known to her informants

“Hilger, (1939, pp. 45-47). The construction of all wigwams seen by the writer
conformed closely to Densmore’s description (1929, pp. 22-26).

TILGHR] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 141

[oO exist on any reservation was one in which the Midé’wiwin cere-
nonial was being held on the Nett Lake Reservation in August 1939.

A tipi consisted of a conical-shaped framework of saplings covered
with overlapping layers of birchbark. The bark was held in posi-
tion by being tied to the saplings with basswood fiber and weighted
Jlown with leaning poles (pl. 29). Jenness found Parry Islanders
had “no recollection of the earlier use of dome-shaped wigwams cov-
sred with birchbark or rushes” but they remembered the peaked lodge
‘with A-shaped ends and ridgepole,” and the conical or tipi form
(Jenness, 1935, p. 112). A Red Lake informant remarked: “Every
Chippewa woman had to learn to build a wigwam in the old days;
it was part of the training her mother gave her. None, however,
knew how to build a tipi except those that lived near the Sioux.”

Canvas-covered tipis were seen on several reservations and were
being used for storage or for sleeping purposes. Originally they had
oeen used in pow-wow demonstrations (Indian dances given for com-
mercial purposes).

FUEL, FIREPLACES, AND LIGHTING

Wood was the only fuel used by the Chippewa of the early days.
It was gathered by women as needed, usually every day, and packed
m their backs in carrying straps (pl. 29, 3, 4).

Gilfillan (1901, vol. 9, p. 77) noted his observations:

Every day one can see, about four o’clock in the afternoon, long strings of
women, each with her ax and packing strap, going out into the woods perhaps a
mile; soon the woods are vocal with the axes; and then equally long strings
of women are seen issuing from the woods, each with her load upon her back,
and each woman packs an immense quantity. This is thrown down at the door
of the house, and brought in as needed. ’

A carrying strap (a’pikan) used by a Red Lake informant in 1932
(pl. 29, 4) was 16 feet long and 114 inches wide. It had been made
by sewing two pieces of tough tanned moose hide to the ends of a
delicately tanned piece of deer hide. The moose-hide ends were used
in strapping wood; the deer hide rested across the forehead. The
forehead side had not been tanned but only closely cropped of hair
in order to leave a soft finish. The informant laid the strap on the
ground in two equal parallel lengths, about 1 foot apart, and piled
pieces of wood upon the straps some distance from the ends. She
then laid the first two fingers of her left hand (pointing toward head-
band) upon one strap, between wood and headband and parallel with
it, and brought the end of the strap over the wood, passed it three
times around the fingers and under the strap, withdrew her fingers,
slipped the end toward headband through the space left by the re-

142 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buun. 14¢

moval of her fingers in such a manner as to make a half bow. She
proceeded to tie the other strap in the same way. Remaining in a
kneeling position, she placed the headband on her forehead, reached
backward around left side with both hands, and moved the pack
onto her back. .

Another informant on the same reservation who had a similar
strap, demonstrated its use in a similar manner and tied the bow in
exactly the same way (pl. 29, 3). “Many a stick of wood I cut and
carried strapped on my back,” she remarked.

Although any wood could be used for fuel, alder wood was preferred
since it threw off neither sparks nor smoke.

In the old, old days, [said a Red Lake informant] an Indian chief wanted
his son to marry. No one knew who the girl would be. Since many girls
wanted to marry the young chief, the old chief said that she who brought the
best firewood could marry him. An old woman dressed her granddaughter,
whom she had adopted when a little girl, in her Indian best, combed her hair
like they did in the old days, painted her face, and said to her, “Now, daughter,
go and cut a bundle of dry alders, pack it to the chief’s door and drop it there.”
Well, all the girls brought their wood; but the lucky one was the one who
brought the alder.

On the La Pointe Reservation an informant made fire by striking
a piece of flint held between thumb and first finger, along with some
punk, with a piece of tin; the sparks falling on the punk, lit it. Some
informants wrapped the flint nearly completely in punk; some used
two flints and no tin.

A Lac Courte Orielle informant made fire by rotating the end of
a 10-inch stick in a circular groove made in a piece of wood. The
groove was 34 of an inch in diameter and 1% inch deep; the piece of
wood, 141% inches in length. The stick rotated by being slid back and
forth either between the palms of the hand like a hand drill or on
a 29-inch string of a bow like a pump drill; in the latter case the
left hand held the stick which had been looped into the cord of the
bow, while the right moved the bow backward and forward.

Open fireplaces were used for heating and lighting wigwams and
for cooking. ‘Types were tripods and racks. Both were used in the
open, but only the tripod in the wigwam (pl. 30, 7, 2). If two
families occupied the same wigwam, two tripods were found on the
center line of the wigwam, one for each family. A tripod on the
Red Lake Reservation was made by resting two Juneberry saplings
in the crotch of a third; all were tied together with basswood fiber.
“This is made exactly like my grandmother taught me to make it,”
said the 70-year-old demonstrator. She then made a hanger for a
kettle by chopping a small branch off an alder tree in such a way
that a slice of the trunk remained on it. The trunk end, after being
trimmed, served as a crotch and was placed over the junction of the

HiLeur] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 143

tripod. ‘The other end was notched so as to hold the handle of the
kettle. A hanger could also have been made by removing all pulp
but not the bark from one end of the branch and tying the branch
to the junction of the tripod with the bark; the crotched end in this
instance would have been used for the kettle.

Racks or elongated fifeplaces served both for cooking and for drying
fish or meat (p. 148). When en route or when moving, camp kettles
were sometimes hung over a fire from ends of sticks that had been
securely fastened into the ground at an angle in such a way as to
hold the kettle over the fire. At times fish and pieces of meat were
broiled at the end of sticks similarly placed.

Wigwams were also heated and lighted in the early days by means
of fire located in a shallow pit in the center of the wigwam; the pit
was usually encircled with stones to prevent persons from stepping
into it. No light was needed in the summer months, ordinarily, for
the end of dusk was bedtime; during the winter months, however,
evenings were spent in visiting or storytelling for entertainment and
instruction.

The fireplace in the wigwam usually gave sufficient light for ordi-
nary work. If a woman, however, needed additional light, she stuck
2 piece of tightly twisted birchbark into the sliced end of a piece of
wood, and set this upright in the ground. If light was needed for
2 Short duration outside the wigwam, a lighted piece of birchbark
served as torch. A cornucopia of bark filled with resin and bits of
birchbark served for longer periods, such as might be required to
fetch one skilled in herbs to the bedside of a sick person (Hilger, 1939,
p. 150).

L’Anse and Lac Courte Orielle informants recalled seeing their
homes lit by means of oil and wicks.** “TI-often saw my mother roll
cord over her leg and later curl it into a dish of bear grease, or any
prease. She lighted one end and let it rest on the edge of the dish,”
said a Lac Courte Orielle informant. His friend remarked: “My
mother pulled rags through the four holes of an ordinary button,
bwisted the ends together and wound a string tightly around them.
This made a wick which she placed into a dish of bear grease and
it.” On the L’Anse Reservation oil of any fish, preferably whitefish,
served as oil for lamps. Whitefish oil never froze; deer tallow did,
when the weather became very cold. “Chumbs,” the fatty substance
found in the interior of whitefish, was boiled in water and skimmed
off. Braided pieces of cotton cloth also served as wicks. One in-
formant had placed a button on a piece of cloth, brought ends to-
yether, tied them close above the button, and then twisted the ends

“ The writer believes this to have been an intrusion of European origin.

144 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buun. 146 |

between the fingers: the weight and size of the button gave equilibrium
to the wick.

La Pointe informants had not used lamps made of grease or oil
and wicks: “When old Indians wanted light, they built a fire; or
the fire in the wigwam served as a lamp.”

GARDENING

Gardening of the traditional type, small cultivated plots of ground
scattered haphazardly among tall grass or in open spaces in the
woods, was seen on most reservations. In the early days garden plots
were found near all winter camps. The winter camps, the permanent
camps, were usually located in maple tree groves. In the spring the
grass on the plots was burnt and the ground was worked with sticks.
Corn, squash, pumpkins, and beans were planted and cared for until
the families moved into the berry patches. After the wild rice had
been harvested in the fall, families returned home and gathered their
garden products.

Today traditional vegetables and many others can be seen in Chip-
pewa gardens. A Lac du Flambeau informant had three good-sized
gardens: she herself had prepared two, and a third had been pre-
pared by her nephew’s wife. The farmer of the United States Indian
Service had furnished seeds of squash, beans, radishes, onions, ruta-
baga, lettuce, artichoke, tomatoes, carrots, and peas. The informant
had also cleared grass and weeds off three small patches, about 2 by 3
feet each, leaving the grass about the patch intact, however. “This
is the old way,” she remarked; “the grass keeps off the sun, retains
the moisture, and helps prevent early freezing.” In one she had
planted squash, in another lettuce, and in a third radishes.

FOOD: PREPARATION AND STORAGE *

Meat, fish, and fowl formed the chief sustenance of the Chippewa.
These were boiled with cultivated vegetables, such as beans, corn,
squash, and pumpkin, and with native ones, such as wild rice, wild
potatoes, and tips of certain plants. Berries of many varieties were
eaten both fresh and dried. Acorns, too, were used as food. Maple
sap, refined to sugar, was used for sweetening purposes and was also
eaten pure. Squash and pumpkin were baked on coals for imme-
diate use; for winter use, the rind was removed and the pulp cut in
one continuous strip and hung in the sun to dry. Dried squash and
pumpkin were boiled with meat. Beans were collected from the pods
in the fall and stored in birchbark containers. They were either
boiled with meat alone, or with meat and corn.

4* For uses of plants as food, see also Densmore (1928, pp. 306-322) ; Huron Smith
1932) ; Gilmore (1933).

HILGER] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 145

Corn prepared for storage was boiled in the shucks when not quite
ripe, cooled, shucks turned back and braided, and then hung up to
dry (pl. 1,7). If treated in this manner, kernels retained their sweet
taste and remained on the cobs. Several informants did not boil the
corn, but removed it from stocks before it was completely dried. When
in this condition shucks could also be braided. Braids of corn, about
4 feet in length, were seen hanging in kitchens or on outside walls of
houses on several reservations.

Dried corn was ground in mortar with pestle, motion being a stir.
ring rather than a pounding one. A L’Anse informant rubbed corn
against the walls of a stone that had been grooved by water action
with a rock held so that the larger part protruded beyond the little
finger. One informant had seen a mortar made by chipping and
smoothing a large rock until it was bowl-shaped. Two Red Lake in-
formants were using a section of a trunk of a tree that had been
hollowed out, leaving both ends closed, however. One was 24 inches
long with a trough 13 inches in length and 4 inches in depth; the
other was 12 inches long, 5 inches wide, and 4 inches deep. A pestle
used with the former was a continuous piece of wood shaped so as
to havea handle. It weighed 1 pound 5 ounces. When mortars were
being used, they were placed on buckskin so that no meal would be
lost.

Formerly corn meal was used primarily for thickening soup; some
informants had mixed it with water and fried it in tallow of buffalo
or bear. ‘Today it is used in soups, fried, and baked as corn bread.

Many Chippewa bake “Indian bread” by mixing wheat flour with
baking powder, water, and salt, and frying it in lard. An informant
squatted near her outdoor fireplace, stretched dough with both hands,
poked a hole in the center with her finger, and dropped it into hot
lard in a frying pan which rested on the coals (pl. 30, 7). When the
bread was well browned on one side, she flipped the pan, thereby turn-
ing the dough, and browned the other side also. She then removed
it to a plate, spread fresh blueberries upon it, and served it to a
grandchild.

Acorns of white oak—red oak are too bitter—were boiled in hulls,
cooled, hulled, and dried in the sun. When needed they were crushed
or pounded to meal, boiled with meat, and served as thick soup.

Informants and interpreters on all reservations were sun-drying
blueberries, Juneberries, and chokecherries on pieces of birchbark, on
roofs, or on pieces of cloth. After 2 or 3 days’ drying they were stored
and later cooked with wild rice and venison. Wado’pé (“a root found
between Flambeau and Hurley, Wis.”), and Indian turnips, both
braided by means of their leafy growth, were also dried for storage
and cooked with meat when desired.

884216—51——11

146 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 146

Lac Courte Orielle Indians (June 1935) were gathering milkweed
shoots (4 inches or less tall) and tips of ferns, which when boiled and
flavored with grease of any kind were served as vegetables. Pumpkin
blossoms gathered later in the season were also boiled with meat and
made “delicious soup.”

A beverage served with meals was made by boiling in water either
raspberry twigs and leaves, wintergreen, or “something that grows in
swamps”; these had no medicinal value.

No family neglected to put in its supply of maple sugar in the early
days. When the sap began to rise, groups of families moved into
maple groves—unless the winter camp was located in one, which was
not unusual. The time for tapping trees varied with the years and
the localities; sap flow might be affected by an early spring, by near-
ness to Lake Superior, or by latitude. Informants were certain that
at the present time tapping is never begun before March 25. The
season ends by April 380.

Maple groves were not claimed by any particular family, but it was
well understood that no one tapped trees that were customarily tapped
each season by the same family. Should a family neglect to tap its
trees for a season, another family might then do so the following
season, making certain, however, that the first family did not intend to
do so. Often, too, a family, knowing that it was unable to tap trees
because of sickness or taboos related to death, invited another to tap
its trees. Wigwams were erected in sugar bushes, each family usually
having three—one for a family dwelling, one for making sugar (this
one might be shared), and one for storage of utensils. Frameworks
were permanent and at times coverings also (p. 138).

Maple trees were tapped; sap was collected, boiled, evaporated, and
refined. (Cf. also Densmore, 1928, pp. 308-313; Winchell, 1911, p.
595; Warren, 1885, vol. 5, pp. 186, 263 ; Gilfillan, 1901, vol. 9, pp. 70-71;
and Chamberlain, 1891, vol. 4, pp. 381-884.) “The sap must be closely
watched while boiling,” said a White Earth sugar maker. “Just as
soon as it begins to make eyes, it is taken off the fire and worked with a
small paddle that looks like a canoe paddle. When we were children
we used to watch for this stage in the boiling, beg for a little sap on a
piece of birchbark, drop it into the snow—if there was still snow on
the ground—and let it turn to gum.” An old Vermilion woman fol-
lowed the custom of placing a little pinch of tobacco in the fire before
eating the first maple sugar: “I do the same before eating the first wild
rice or the first fish in spring. i ask Manito to grant success on all
we do.” After all families in a group had completed the first boiling
of the sap, a feast was held in which all participated; maple sugar
formed the chief food.

When I was still a child, our family moved into the woods every spring in order
to make maple sugar [remarked a Lac Courte Orielle woman]. “Here

Hivcer] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 147

we lived in wigwams. The first year we lived on this reservation, I was about
10 years old then, we tapped 800 trees. When the season was ended, we had 10
makok’ of maple sugar so heavy that I was not able to carry even the smallest one.
They varied in size; the largest one was about 3 feet high and a foot in diameter.
The sirup never fermented in these birchbark containers, and tasted good in
the following spring. Some people made taffy (b4gdd’cigéns) for children
from maple sirup. It tasted very good. One seldom sees it today.

Wild rice, one of the staple foods of the early Chippewa, was
gathered by the women in late August or early September just before
it matured.” If gathered when ripe much is lost, for it drops readily
then. As the season approached, families migrated in groups to lakes
and streams producing it. It grows in mud bottoms short distances
from shores of lakes or slow-moving streams.

Wild rice is an annual plant, growing from seed each year. If not
destructively gathered by man or wild fowl or, as has been recently
done, completely drowned out by backwaters of dams, it is perpetual
once established in favorable environment.

Patches of wild rice were considered common property in the early
days, but it was the custom for families to return to the same growth
year after year, and others respected their rights to gather it. If fam-
ilies planted wild rice, which was done occasionally, others ceded their
exclusive rights to it. An interpreter’s mother on the La Pointe Res-
ervation sowed wild rice every fall shortly after gathering it. It was
sowed in rather shallow water. “No one has ever gone to gather rice
there,” she remarked. “Such patches have always been claimed by the
people who sowed them, and by their descendants.” A Lac Courte
Orielle man remarked: “Sections of wild rice on this reservation are
claimed by some because their fathers and grandfathers planted them.”
“At the present time (1935) on this reservation (Lac du Flambeau)
people scatter rice on lake shores a few days after they have gathered
it but lay no claim of ownership to these patches. They sow the rice
so that Chippewa in the future—maybe relatives—will have wild rice.
It must be sowed in shallow muddy water, in either spring-fed or
running water like at the outlet of a lake.”

The kernels of wild rice grow at the tip of a stem that at times is 15
to 20 feet long. The color is dark slate; the shape, cylindrical. Ker-
nels differ in size and taste with localities. A Lac Courte Orielle
informant gathered her rice in Aitkin County, Minn., in the fall of
1934 “for kernels there are small and better tasting than the ones
around here.” Kernels on the La Pointe Reservation “are finer than
the ones at Red Lake.”

In the middle of summer women tie the rice into bunches. When

4?For detailed description of wild rice gathering, see Winchell (1911, pp. 592-594) ;
Densmore (1928, pp. 313-817); Jenks (1900 b, pp. 1013-1137) ; Skinner (1921 b, pp.
101-102, 142-152) ; Hilger (1939, pp. 186-187) ; Tyrrell (1916, p. 275) ; and Carlson (1934,
pp. 16-23, and Chambliss, 1940).

148 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buuy. 146

collecting it bunches are held over a canoe or boat and knocked with a
paddlelike stick causing the kernels to drop.

In the early days rice was either dried on birchbark in the sun or on
flat rocks heated over slow fire. After contact with Europeans it was
parched in kettles, husks loosened by being pounded, and then win-
nowed in the wind.** (Cf. winnowing trays, nockanicigon, pl. 24,
1,3.) It was then stored in bags made by women of cedarbark.
“Parched wild rice was cooked like Chinese rice is today with strips of
meat, or boiled in soups.” Children often popped it on hot stones.

The meat of deer, moose, bear, and buffalo (buffalo by those living
near the prairie areas) was eaten both fresh or dried and smoked.
Fresh meat was cooked with either green vegetables, dried berries,
dried chokecherries, or wild rice. Meat that was not needed for imme-
diate use was cut into strips “as thick as my thumb” and dried over a
slow fire on racks or tripods used for cooking, on slanting sticks stuck
into the ground, or, if a large amount was on hand, on specially erected
frames (pl. 31, 1, 2). In old days racks were sometimes 30 feet
long, 3 feet wide, and 3 feet high. On the White Earth Reservation
(1938) a 32-year-old informant was drying venison on a rack made by
resting the corners of a lattice framework, made of split branches, in
the crotches of four saplings; it stood about 2 feet from the ground.
“Any green wood may be used in making the frame,” she remarked;
“but green wood is best because it resists the heat and will not catch
fire.”

Fish of various kinds were also eaten fresh; but only pike, crappies,
and whitefish weresmoked. Fish were split down the back, the frame-
work of bones and entrails removed, and with belly up were placed
astride on rods over a slow fire. Heads were not severed. Another
way, but one in which fish needed turning, was to rest them sidewise
on racks over fire—in more recent times on screens. Racks were sim-
ilar to the one used by the White Earth informant, referred to above,
in drying venison. On the Red Lake Reservation a piece of window
screening (4 by 4 feet) rested on boxes about 1 foot above the ground.
Underneath it, in a pit about one-half foot deep, a slow fire was main-
tained. An interpreter had smoked all the crappies she could obtain
during the summer (1933) on window screening over an aspen fire.
The last ones of those she stored were eaten at Christmas time.

Oak, ash, maple, or any hardwood was used for smoking purposes.
These gave both meat and fish a good taste and a “nice brown color.”
Jack pine was not used; it left a “dirty color.” Smoking fish for 8
hours over a slow fire dried and smoked them sufficiently for storage.

48 Cf. Densmore (1919, vol. 70, p. 96) for photographs of poling boat throvgh rice field
and of parching wild rice.

Hinenr] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 149

The meat of the wolf was not eaten. That of the turtle was eaten
only by men, never by women. Porcupines, skunks, rabbits, ducks,
geese, and pigeons were all eaten fresh. After the quills had been
removed from the back of a porcupine, “it was cleaned like a chicken:
boiling water poured over it, the shorter quills plucked, and the hair
singed.” ‘The meat.of pups was eaten in very early days. Although
many informants had heard this repeatedly and must have eaten it at
the Midé’wiwin feast, they seemed to revolt at the idea.

Turtle eggs were considered a delicacy, and were eaten in season;
no way of preserving them was known. They were boiled for 20
minutes, cooled, the shell punctured with a finger, and contents sucked.
An old Lac Courte Orielle informant and several of her aged friends

‘had walked nearly 5 miles (1935) to find a sandy lake shore, “the place
where the turtles lay their eggs.” Upon arrival they searched around
in the sand “for little raised places, little bumps,” into which they
poked sticks. By the sensation, “the place will feel soft”, they were
able to tell whether or not eggs were present. (They found a nest
with sixty.) This method of searching was necessary because of a
recent rain. “It’s easy to find them before a rain for one can follow
the turtle’s trail then; the dragging of his tail makes a line which in-
variably passes between his four steps. The time for hunting turtle
eggs is when the first wild roses are in full bloom.” of

Food supplies that were not needed during a season were usually
stored in caches (Aasan’sigowin) built near the home wigwams. Stored
food might be braided corn; maple sugar and dried berries in birch-
bark containers; wild rice in cedar-bark bags; dried meat or fish
wrapped in birchbark; and dried vegetables. “In former days our
Indians dug pits after the rice season and stored in them their rice and
corn and vegetables from their gardens,” said a Lac Courte Orielle
woman. “Then everyone went down the Yellow River to Chippewa
Falls, Wis., in canoes in order to hunt. Meat was dried and smoked
there, and hides were tanned; moccasins and snowshoes were made,
and then all returned home.”

The writer witnessed the opening of a cache by an 82-year-old Red
Lake informant on August 1, 1938. An Indian wished to buy some
potatoes from the informant’s garden. Since these were not yet full-
grown, she was willing to sell him some stored ones. She proceeded
to a grove of maple trees nearby and from a place in it removed some
saplings which she had felled and placed there the previous fall. She
next removed several armfuls of cornstalks and then some dead leaves.
“All of this,” she remarked, “was needed to ‘fool’ the deer! Deer won’t
walk on dead trees for their feet catch in them. Without these trees
they could have found the cache by the feel of their feet. Any soft
spot raises their suspicions.” She next removed hay to about the

150 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLu. 146

depth of a foot, lifted out several rutabagas, and finally good-sized
fine healthy-looking potatoes. The cache, 6 feet deep and nearly 3
feet square, was lined with hay to about the depth of 8 inches. “I
had three of these filled with vegetables from my gardens last fall.”
In a new cache she was at that time storing Mason fruit jars of
canned blueberries and gooseberries of the summer’s growth. Each
jar was so placed that it could be surrounded with hay. “I have stored
my canned things that way ever since we learnt to put things up in
glass jars, and I have never had any of them freeze. The food I need
for winter, I keep in my house,” she said. “Whatever I put in the
caches stays there until the snow melts. That’s the hardest time of
all the year. Indians that don’t provide for themselves in the fall

often nearly starve in the late winter. I belong to the Pembina band, ©

and it was seldom heard, when we still lived the Indian way, that any
of us were starving.” A third cache in which she had deposited
canned raspberries and Juneberries of the season—8 pints of the

former and 914 quarts of the latter—was 22 inches in diameter and ©

12 inches deep. “When I have all my canning done, I'll tuck hay all
around the jars and plenty of it on top, and then I'll cover both
caches with earth, making a heap at least so high (18 inches) above
the level of the ground.”

Another cache on the Red Lake Reservation was 3 feet 7 inches long,
3 feet 5 inches wide, and 4 feet 2 inches deep. Potatoes had been
stored in it to about 1 foot from the top in the fall of 1932. The
remainder had been filled with hay which was weighted down with

pieces of heavy timber. Dirt was then thrown over all to the height —

of 18 inches above the ground.

In a cache (4 feet square and 6 feet deep) on the Lac Courte Orielle
Reservation potatoes, dried corn, maple sugar in mak6k’, and wild rice
had been stored in the winter of 1934-1935. The cache was lined with
hay and the food covered with mats and rugs overlaid with hay and
dirt to a depth of 2 feet. Some informants had lined pits with hay,
held in place by bent saplings.

“At the end of Lake Pokegema,” said a Lac du Flambeau interpre-
ter, “the people buried about two hundred pounds of wild rice last
fall (1934). It was put in sacks and buried in a pit and left there
until the snow was gone.”

BANDS, CHIEFS, AND COUNCILS

The political unit among the Chippewa was the band. A band com-
prised from 5 to 50 or more families and was headed by a chief who
was assisted by subchiefs. Informants were agreed that both chiefs
and subchiefs received their positions normally through inheritance;
this information corroborates that given by Warren and Copway,

HItcER] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 151

both natives (Warren, 1885, vol. 5, p. 135; Copway, 1847, p. 137; cf.
also Gilfillan, 1901, vol. 9, p. 75, and Densmore, 1929, p. 131). It was
not unusual, however, that men of good repute became chiefs because
of merit. Informants knew of men who had been rewarded with
chieftainship by the tribe for unusual courage in time of widespread
illness, such as smallpox epidemics. Several additional men bore the
title chief, and were considered such, because a President of the United
States had awarded them with medals during visits to the White
House. The power and prestige of the chief’s position, however,
depended upon the individual who held it.

All bands considered themselves as affiliated with either the Lake
Superior Bands or the Mississippi Bands. Copway called them the
Lake Bands and the Interior Bands (Copway, 1847, p. 52). A band
today may be scattered over a large area. The L’Anse Band, for
example, comprises all the Indians of the L’Anse Reservation, plus
groups living in Michigan, near or at Marquette, Sault Ste. Marie,
and Escanaba, and groups living in Wisconsin at Land O’Lakes and
at Lac Vieux Desert. Lac Vieux Desert comprises 16 fullblooded
families, all members of the Midé’wiwin. About 75 years ago their
leader, a subchief, called Chief Silver Scott, purchased a small piece
of land at Lac Vieux Desert and settled there with his group.

An informant on the Lac Courte Orielle Reservation related the
following:

In old days the Lac Courte Orielle band had a head chief. He had two names,
Bagowas, which means “patch,” like patch on a pants, and Aquewanse, which
means “old man.” When Bagowas died, his son, Gengwawa, became chief. After
Gengwawa died, his sister’s child, Peter Wolf, became chief. A son of Peter
Wolf, Mike Wolf, is now the recognized chief. Since Mike is not on this reserva-
tion—he is in the Indian service in one of the Dakotas—one of the ‘subchiefs,
Anaquat, of the Chief Lake group, is acting as head chief. His duty is to repre-
sent the Lac Courte Orielle Chippewa if anything tribal turns up. If any such
business turns up, a meeting is held to which all are invited, and whatever is
decided upon there, Peter Anaquat will present to the agent or whoever is con-
cerned. The tribe will uphold him in these decisions.

Subchieftainship is also inherited. There are three subchiefs on the Reserva-
tion today. Peter Anaquat is subchief of Paquawang, which includes Chief
Lake on the Chippewa River. Mose Bluesky, Oshawashgogesik, is subchief of the
Couderay band that lives on the Chippewa River, now called New Post. Joe
White, Ashquagabow, is the subchief at Reserve. His grandfather is one of the
chiefs who signed the Treaty of September 30, 1854, at La Pointe.

All the Indians on this Reservation belong to the Lac Courte Orielle Band.
The Indians at Odanah, in Ashland County, are of the Chippewa tribe, but of a
different band. The Chippewa at Redcliff are called the Redcliff Band or John
Buffalo’s Band. John Buffalo is now dead. Another band of Chippewa live at
Lac du Flambeau. [Hilger, 1936, pp. 41-42.]

The Treaty of September 30, 1854, was made at La Pointe, Wis.,
between the seven bands of the Lake Superior Bands and the Missis-

152 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Bun. 146

sippi Bands, on one side, and the United States Government on the
other. The signers of the Lake Superior Bands are grouped under
the following bands: La Pointe, L’Anse, Grand Portage, Fond du Lac,
Lac Courte Orielle, Lac du Flambeau, and Bois Forte. Of these bands
12 first chiefs, 24 second chiefs, and 34 headmen signed the treaty.
Signers of the Mississippi Bands were one head chief, one first chief,
eight second chiefs, and five headmen (Kappler, 1904, pp. 648-652).

The origin of the Lac Courte Orielle Band was described (1935) by
the 91-year-old wife of a descendant of the founder as follows:

An old man who lived on the Point tells this story: One time an old woman
was going to the Point and a little boy followed her. He fell into the water
(Little Lake Couderay) and was spirited away through a hole in the bank; the
spirit who did this came from the West. They consulted the medicine man
regarding the lost boy. They even held a Medicine Dance during which they
threw into the water traps, maple sugar, utensils, pots, quilts, in fact the best
of everything. The medicine man told them that the boy would be delivered
the next day, and the next day the boy popped out of the water! It is believed
that all our people and our chiefs came from this boy. After the boy grew
older, he became a medicine man. He prophesied what would happen to these
people—that there would be priests and a church here. This happened six
generations before any white man came. This boy’s name was Omagan’dip,
which means, “scabby head,” and from him all the Couderay Band of Indians
came. When the great-grandson of Omagin’dip, named Ba’'giios, died, his son
George became chief; upon the latter’s death, his small son became chief. Due
to his minority, two men were appointed to act as guardians of the band. The
boy died; after this, one of the guardians was looked up to as chief.

No extraordinary respects were paid to a chief. Nor was his son
given any preparation for the office: he was treated like other children
and was expected to grow up to be a man of good character and good
sense. If he lacked these qualities, he might not be greatly esteemed
by the people but he would not thereby lose his position. A chief’s
main duties were to preside at council meetings (councils consisting
of all men and women past puberty) ; of making decisions regarding
the general welfare of the tribe, such as petitioning the United States
Government for favors or redress; of settling small disputes among his
people; of representing the band at annuity payments, at signing of
treaties, and at large gatherings of many tribes. The chief’s responsi-
bility is exemplified in a “Petition of the head chiefs of the Chippewa
Tribe of Indians on Lake Superior,” dated February 7, 1849. It reads
as follows:

That our people, to-wit, sixteen bands, desire a donation of twenty-four sections
of land, covering the graves of our fathers, our sugar orchards, and our rice
lakes and rivers, at seven different places now occupied by us as villages, viz. :
At View Desert, or Old Garden, three sections; at Trout Lake, four sections; at

Lake Coteré, four sections; at La Pointe, four sections; at Ontonagon, three
sections; at La Ance, three sections; and at Pah-po-goh-mony, three sections.

Hiterr] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 153

That we desire these lands for the purpose specified. [Jenks, 1900 b, pt. 2,
p. 1097.] !

No informants had ever heard of women chiefs among their people.
That women, however, acted as chiefs and were permitted to sign
treaties, is a matter of record:

The head chief of the Pillagers, Flatmouth, has for several years resided in
Canada. Hissister, Ruth Flatmouth, is in her brother’s absence the acknowledged
Queen, or leader of the Pillagers; two other women of hereditary right acted as
leaders of their respective bands, and at the request of the chiefs were permitted
to sign the agreements. [U.S. House Exec. Doc., 1889-90, p. 26.]

Women not only expressed their opinions at council meetings, but
were often called upon for information.

MARRIAGE CUSTOMS
GENTES

Warren, a native Chippewa, wrote that the Algies of which his
people formed one of the principal branches were as a body divided
into several large families, each of which was known and perpetuated
by a symbol of some bird, animal, fish, or reptile, and called by them
totem or do’dam. He notes that the descent was invariably along the
male line; and that intermarriage never took place between persons of
the same symbol or family, “even, should they belong td different and
distinct tribes, as they consider one another related by the closest ties
of blood and call one another by the nearest terms of consanguinity”
(Warren, 1885, vol. 5, p. 34). Informants on all reservations were
agreed that the do’dam was patrilinear. Such remarks as the follow-
ing were typical: “The d0o’dam is invariably inherited from the
father.” “Children belong to the do’dany of their father ; never to that
of their mother.” “I have five boys and five girls and all belong to the
wolf do’dam, their father’s do’dam.” “You are always a member of
your father’s do’dam; never of your mother’s.”

Traditions of the Midé’wiwin teach that originally there were five
do’dams among the Chippewa. Today the Chippewa recognize many
more. Warren lists 21 by name (Warren, 1885, vol. 5, pp. 44-45).
Mooney and Thomas record that among some of the Chippewa the
gentes were associated in five phratries (in Hodge, 1907, pt. 1, p. 279).
Jones notes that there “was a large number of clans, and some of them
seemed to have been grouped under a feeble form of phratry (Jones,
1906, p. 186). Informants, both men and women, who contributed to
this work belonged to the following gentes: wild cat, bear, eagle, mar-
tin, bullhead, kingfisher, crane, loon, wabica’cina (unidentified four-
footed animal), wolf, fish, sturgeon, lynx, pickerel, caribou, lion, and

154 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 146

bird. Warren lists, in addition, catfish, reindeer, merman, pike, rattle-
snake, moose, black duck or cormorant, goose, sucker, whitefish, beaver,
gull, hawk.

Since white fathers held no membership in any gentes, their children
were said to belong to the eagle d6’dam, the eagle having been assigned
to them, it was thought, because it symbolized the United States, and
white men were associated with the United States. It may have been
a mere coincidence that all informants and interpreters who were
members of the eagle gentes had white feathers, or it may indicate the
validity of the eagle gentes.

Each gentes, as noted before, is designated and perpetuated by the
symbol of some animal. Animals so symbolized are treated with
friendliness but are not considered sacred, nor are any taboos asso-
ciated with them. “They are killed, skinned, and eaten like other
animals.” |

A L’Anse informant found inspiration in his d6’damic symbol.
“The children take their do’dam from the father,” he said. “I took
mine from my father; he took it from his father, and so on, three or
four generations back. My do’dam isthe deer. The deer is smart and
quick. When a deer wants to drink, he goes up the river a little way
from where he crossed, because he won’t drink the water that has
washed his traces. The deer is my companion; I follow his life. I
never need a compass to go through the woods, for I am able to find
my way just like the deer.”

A Red Lake interpreter said:

I can’t be a member of a do’dam, I am told, because I have too much white
blood; my father’s father was a white man. Last year there was a wake 5 miles
from here and my neighbor and I attended it. While there she said to me, “Let's
go and see my clan.” (She belongs to the bear clan; these people had caught
three bear cubs somewhere last winter, and had kept one.) She said to the
woman who had the wake, and the cub, ‘I want to see my clan; where is it?”
The woman also belongs to the bear clan. The cub was resting on an army cot,
and looked well cared for ; it was being fed canned milk from a bottle with nipple.
My neighbor talked to the cub in a very friendly way and said that had she known
he was there she would have brought him some maple sugar. Many of those who
belonged to the bear clan had brought maple sugar; they consider their clan
animal something very special. I sat on the bed too and began to pet the cub,
but he scratched me and bit my arm. The woman said to me, “You’re not of
his clan; that’s why he is ugly to you.” ‘They had no mercurochrome, so I rubbed
my arm with kerosene from the lamp.

All informants were emphatic in stating that the gentes were exoga-
mous: intermarriage was never permitted between members of the
same gentes, whether of their own tribe or band or those of another

49 Warren (1885, vol. 5, pp. 44-45) ; ef. also Winchell (1911, pp. 602-606. For names
of sibs of the Ojibway of the Lake of the Woods, see Cooper (1936, p. 4). These sibs, too
were patrilineal and exogamous.

Hinenr] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 155

Chippewa tribe or band. All members of the same gentes, no matter
where found, were considered related by the closest ties and called
themselves brothers and sisters.

My father was a white man and therefore did not belong to any clan. Clan
members are as brothers and sisters. Long ago all clans must have been blood
relatives and, therefore, all clan members must have blood relationship today.
Any member of the Wolf Clan, for instance, in any one of the bands today, must
be related to all members of the Wolf Clan in all the Chippewa tribe. Today
when two meet, and they discover that they are members of the same clan, they
grab each other by the arm and say, “Oh! you are my relative.” Animals rep-
resented in these totems or clans, such as the Bear Clan, Wolf Clan, etc., are not
considered sacred. They are killed and eaten as are other animals.°°

“You can marry a member of your mother’s do’dam, but never of
your father’s,” said a Red Lake informant. “You are brother or sis-
ter to all of your father’s d6’dam. This is distinct from blood relation-
ship.” The oldest Nett Lake informant was a member of the caribou
do’dam: “So was my father,” she added. “My husband was a bull-
head.” When asked what might have happened had she married a
caribou, she hesitated a few moments appearing to be thinking the
matter through and finally answered, “I wouldn’t have been so foolish
as to marry a caribou, a man of my own do’dam!” The oldest Mille
Lacs informant remarked: “A member of the Wolf Clan on the Cass
Lake Reservation would be like brother and sister to members of the
Wolf Clan on this reservation.”

Some children were told early in life of their do’damic membership ;
some learnt it only upon inquiry. “When I began to understand, I
was told I had a do’dam.” “I must have been about 3 years old when
I was told I belonged to my father’s clan—at least I was very, very
little.” “My daughter, who is 16 now, asked me the other day of what
do’dam she was a member ; the man who has asked to marry her wanted
to know.” Most informants could not recall when they first learnt of
their membership, “but it was long before marriage entered my head,
and I knew always that I couldn’t marry a loon.” “I was small when
I was told about my do’dam. We were out fishing and somebody held
up a bullhead and said to me, “This is your do’dam.’ We have great
respect for our do’dam, but we eat them; I have often eaten bullhead.”

Jenness recorded regarding the Ojibway of Parry Island : “Marriage
between parallel cousins was disallowed because they belonged to the
same clan, and the clan was an exogamous unit; but cross-cousin mar-
riage, 1. e., the union of the children of a brother and sister, was both
permissible and common” (Jenness, 1935, p. 98). Landes speaks of
cross-cousin marriages among the Ojibwa of western Ontario. She
notes that the custom of arrangement of marriage by parents “is per-

50 Hilger (1936, p. 41). Cf. Bushnell (1905, pp. 69-73), for ceremonial and social
gathering of the Kingfisher clan.

156 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buun. 146

haps most common among those Ojibwa who prefer the cross-cousin
form of marriage, when a brother and sister agree to propose the
marriage of their respective children” (Landes, 1938 b, pp. 51-52).
Hallowell writes: “. . . we have two positive statements that among
the more remote Ojibwa, at least, cross-cousin marriage was actually
practiced in certain bands as late as the first half of the nineteenth
century.” =

Cross-cousin marriage was not found among the Chippewa included
in this study. Informants were emphatic in their denial of such a
custom. An old Lac Courte Orielle man, the officiating minister of the
Midé’wiwin ceremonials, remarked: “In the olden days, that was
strictly against the customs of the Chippewa of the Great Lakes re-
gion; never was it heard that the children of a sister married the chil-
dren of her brother.” Another man informant on the same reserva-
tion added: “The children of one of my sisters could not have married
the children of another sister; the same applies to my children and
those of my brother. They were considered brothers and sisters.
However, the children of a man and his sister were considered a little
different: they were considered related in the same way as such chil-
dren are today—they were first cousins. But neither were such
children allowed to marry each other. A Red Lake informant, a very
old woman, said with much emphasis that “the relationship between
a brother’s children and the children of his sister was a sacred relation-
ship, and never would they have been allowed to marry.”

COURTING

Men were of marriageable age as soon as they were able to supply
food fora family. “A boy had to be a good hunter and a good worker
to get married; he was that usually at about 20.” “If a man had
shown that he was a good hunter and a good trapper, well then
he was considered ready to marry a girl; he might then be given one.”
“A girl admired a boy more for his successes in hunting than for
anything else.”

A girl was of marriageable age as soon after puberty as she was
able to do all the work expected of a housewife, such as building wig-
wams, gathering wood, tanning hides, drying meat and fish, and cook-
ing food. Some informants were married as early as 14 years, know-
ing at that age how to do all the work of an adult woman. Pierz
wrote in 1855: “Girls marry early, most of them being married at 14
or 15 years of age” (Pierz, 1855, p. 24—-writer’s translation). An

51 Cf. Hallowell (1928, p. 522) for quotation from Duncan Cameron found in L. R.
Masson, Les Bourgeois de la Compagnie du Nord-Quest (circa) vol. 2, p. 247, and one from
H. Y. Hind, Explorations in the interior of Labrador Peninsula, London, 1863. Hallowell
notes that Hind had previously explored in the Red River and published Narrative of the
Canadian Red River Exporing Expedition, etc., 1860.

Hiterr] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 157

87-year-old Red Lake man said: “I was 25 when I was married the
first time; my wife was 30. She died after 12 years, and the next one
I married was 14.” The girl that was admired most by the men was
one that was “quiet, didn’t run around, and was a good worker; ‘good
worker’ was the virtue most sought by men.”

Courting if defined as an endeavor to gain the affections of a person
by wooing can hardly be said to have existed among the Chippewa.
Informants agreed that formerly girls past puberty had to remain
continuously in their mother’s presence or in that of some older woman.
Pierz made a similar observation: “I saw, too, among the pagans the
most praiseworthy care and watchfulness extended to the morals of
the girls. Girls are constantly with their mothers who warn them
early of the possibility of being led astray” (Pierz, 1855, p. 22). An
old Red Lake woman collaborated when saying: “In old days a boy and
a girl never walked together. If aman liked a girl he went to see her
in the presence of her parents and then only in daytime, never at
night.” “You never saw a man and a girl alone by themselves. It
was awful to see a boy and a girl walk together.” “There wasn’t any
courting in the old days; at sundown everybody was in the tent.”
On the Lac Courte Orielle Reservation (1935) a young mother was
“keeping an eye” on her oldest daughter, a 16-year-old girl. Their
home was a 2-room house. The daughter had been told that she and
her boy friend might sit in the bedroom while the mother stayed in
the kitchen. They were not to get out of sight, however, but were to
stay in line with the open doorway. ‘The mother continued : “Her boy
friend is 25. He just never sees the girl unless I’m around: I watch
her all the time. When they are together, they sit around and read
the papers like you saw them do today. He asked my husband last
spring to marry her, but was told she was too young. When she is a
little older my husband and I will talk it over with his parents. He
is her lover all right because she gets clothes and things from him. He
has to go to CCC soon.”

Densmore’s informants, too, noted that girls were closely observed.
She wrote:

The young maidens of the Chippewa were closely guarded and were modest in
their behavior toward the young men of the tribe. If a young man wished to
call upon a young woman he talked first with the older people who lived next to
the door of the lodge. He might then proceed to the middle of the lodge, where
the young woman lived, and talk with the girl in a low tone, but she was not
allowed to leave the lodge with him. If a young man came to call rather late
in the evening when the fire had burned low, the mother or grandmother would
rise and stir up the fire so that it burned brightly, then fill her pipe and sit up
and smoke. The young man could continue his call, but was conscious of being
watched. The young man played the “courting flute” in the evenings, but it was
never permitted that a young girl leave the lodge in response to the flute.

If a young man’s intentions were serious, he killed a deer or some other
animal and brought it to the girl’s parents. This was to indicate his ability and

158 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buun. 146

intention to provide well for his family. If the parents approved of the young
man, they asked him to stay and share the feast. This was understood as an
acceptance of his wish to marry their daughter, and he was allowed to come
and go with more freedom than formerly. [Densmore, 1929, p. 72.]

Two informants (Red Lake and Lac Courte Orielle Reservations)
had heard that long ago, “long before our time,” the pretty tunes of
the flute were used by young men to make girls aware of their presence.
Flutes were made of cedar twigs or sumach stalks. Thomas L. Mc-
Kenney, when en route with Governor Lewis Cass in 1826, heard such
a flute and wrote:

Nothing can be more mournful in its tones. It was night, and a calm rested
on everything; and it was moonlight, all of which added to its effect. We saw
the Indian who was playing it, sitting on a rock.... We afterwards learned
that this Indian was in love, and that he would sit there all night indulging in
this sentimental method of softening the heart of his mistress, whose lodge he
took care should be opposite his place of melody, and within reach of his monoto-
nous but pensive strains. [Winchell, 1911, p. 602.]

If a young man was serious in his intentions, he killed a deer or
some other animal and brought it to the lodge of the girl’s parents.
This signified his intention of providing well for his family. Arm-
strong wrote in 1892:

Leaving it outside, he enters the wigwam, saying nothing, but lights his pipe
and makes himself at home. Should there be more than one girl in the lodge
at the time, he has a sign by which his choice is made known. If the girl does
not like his appearance she remains where she is, but if he is agreeable to her
fancy she takes a knife and proceeds to skin the animal and take charge of the
meat, after which the suitor takes his leave. The parents of the girl, being ad-
vised of what is going by the presence of the meat not of their killing, commence
systematic proceedings to ascertain the young man’s habits, his ability as a
hunter, warrior, etc., and if satisfied with them they proceed to the young man’s
parents, who are now for the first time aware of the youth’s aspirations and
they in turn make inquiry as to the character, etc., of their prospective daughter-
in-law. If all is satisfactory the young man is given permission by the girl’s
parents to visit her, but all he or she has to say must be said in the common
wigwam and before all who happen to be present. [Armstrong, 1892, pp.
103-104.]

MARRIAGE

Many old informants had been told by grandmothers that a girl
in their day did not know the man she married until the day of mar-
riage. Often she had not even seen him; parents made all arrange-
ments. The girl’s wishes regarding a man were usually taken into
consideration, however, although some informants related forced mar-
riages. “That seems to have been the Indian way of long ago; that’s
the way Iwas married. Heasked my parents for me before I had ever
seen him; I didn’t want to marry him; he was sickly then already. My
mother made me marry him. We lived with her 3 years, when he
died. He was a good man; he never became angry. But he was

HincEr] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 159

sickly. I had one child by my first husband.” “I got my old man
because my parents made me take him. He brought many things to
my parents, including food. There was no marriage ceremony nor
any other celebration; they just made me live with him.”

A medicine man on the Lac Courte Orielle Reservation told of his
second marriage: “My first wife died. She was a good woman; I
admired her. I went to her uncle (her parents were dead) and asked
for her sister. I gave many things to her uncle: quilts that I had re-
ceived at dances, as well as food.- The girl’s brother asked her nicely
to marry me, and so she did. There was no marriage ceremony.”

A Red Lake informant was married at 20. He said:

I found out that her parents approved of me and so I went to her place and
stayed there. And that was the marriage—nothing like now. Here is the way
it started: I went out hunting and brought home much meat, for I had killed
a buffalo. The mother of the girl came to our lodge to visit about that time
and my mother gave her all the meat she could carry on her back. That’s why
she approved of me when I came. But I was not well acquainted with the
girl, although I knew who she was, for we were neighbors. I used to meet her
going places but would always pass her by. She was much younger than I.
We were not related: her d6’dam was the wabica’cina (a small animal) ; mine,
the loon. You couldn’t marry into your d0’dam. Years ago no one carried on
courtship for years like they do now.

The Chippewa had no marriage ceremony. Marriage consisted of
eating together and of sharing the fur robe used as bedding. When
parents had settled upon the marriage or when the man had received
the consent of the girl’s parents, he went to the latter’s wigwam with
all his belongings “and that was all.” The couple usually shared the
wigwam of the girl’s parents for a year. If all was satisfactory, they
built a wigwam for themselves after that. Moving into their own
wigwam was called bakanii’kwe, meaning “being separated from the
home wigwam.” ,

The following two accounts were related by Red Lake informants:

Marriage depended on old folks. I wasn’t my own boss; I didn’t choose to
marry my old man. When my mother told me “You have to marry; I have
chosen your man for you, and he is a good man, for I saw how he treated his
first wife,’ I broke down and cried for days. I cried for days! I cried every
time they mentioned him! In those days we didn’t answer back or refuse; so
I cried. He was a widower with a child, and I didn’t want him. My uncles
and aunts tried to persuade me to marry him. My uncle from Pembina Reser-
vation [Canada] came to visit just then, and they must have asked him, with-
out my knowledge, to talk to me about this man. He took me aside, and talked
to me. He said, “You’re growing up to be a big girl now and you ought to get
married. He is a good man; you couldn’t do any better.” (Good husband
meant that he had taken good care of his wife and that he was a good hunter.)
Then I said to him, “All right.” This was 2 years after I had become an old
woman, and I think I began to be that way at 14. After I gave my consent my
man brought a blanket filled with clothes—all he could carry. Among them

160 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Bun. 146

I remember were two shawls and some tanned deer hides that his mother had
tanned. (We wore dresses made of buckskin then; no one wore calico dresses.)
But I didn’t like him; I never spoke to him. My mother cooked for him; and
I didn’t even eat when he did. I must have been foolish! I never suffered so
much. I would sit up most of the night and did not want to sleep with him;
but they made me. [The interpreter inserted that she had felt the same way
about her own marriage]. When fall came, he went hunting for furs. My
mother said to me, “You go along?’ I said, “Let him go!” He prepared to
go and took his boy. My mother said, “You have to go with him! Pack your
things!” I cried, but followed him. We camped, and the first night he brought
in a black bear. In all he killed three bears on this trip. From that time on
I liked him; I helped him skin his game. He never said.an impatient word to
me, and I was therefore good to his son. The boy didn’t live very long. There
was never any wedding ceremony in those old days, and seldom did a man leaye
his wife, or a wife leave her husband. I always thought only death should sep-
arate married people.

My man came to my parents’ house and asked my folks to marry me. But my
folks didn’t like me to marry him because he was a Red Laker, they wanted to
return to Pembina [Canada], and take me back with them. After he left, my
nose began to bleed. It bled for 2 days and 2 nights. This man was a “grand
medicine’ man. My parents called in another “grand medicine” man, an old
one, to find out what this one had done to me. This man said that the first
“grand medicine’ man had been displeased and had caused my nose to bleed;
that he had in mind to kill me that way; that the first one would have to
come back and fumigate me. My mother called the first one and had him fumi-
gate me with Indian medicine. He heated two big stones, placed some herbs
on these, and covered my head with a blanket in such a way as to enclose the
stones. After that my mother gave me to him. And now you know how I got
my old man.

LOVE CHARMS

Love charms (kacibi’djigans or masinak6’djigans) were bought
from medicine men or medicine women who were gifted with the power
to make them. The charm, or talisman, was carried on the person of
the one wishing to influence another, and contained besides love
“medicine,” hair, fingernail parings, or bits of clothing of the person
to be charmed.

When I was young, some old men had charms for sale [said a Lae Courte
Oreille informant]. A love charm consisted of a small piece of wood about an
inch long shaped like a person, and either a hair of the persom to be charmed
or a piece of his clothing. All was tied into a small piece of buckskin. Both
men and women who wished to charm another person carried these near their
own person. For example, if some woman here at New Post had such a charm—
one containing hair or a small piece of clothing of a man at Reserve—
the first thoughts of the man over there on awakening would be of her. He
would also dream of her and want to be with her so badly that he might come
over here in his stocking feet forgetting to put on his shoes!

“My husband, when still young and a pagan (Midé’), worked at a
lumber camp where my parents had a lodge,” said a Lac du Flambeau
interpreter. “T had noticed that in the pocket of his jacket he carried

Hitcrr] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 161

a little cloth bag. So one day when he wasn’t around, I pulled it out
and upon examining it found a piece of my shawl about half the size
of my thumbnail in it. I knew then that he was charming me, and
that’s how I began to like him. There must have been something in
me too that charmed him !”

‘ POLYGAMY

Polyandry was not found among the Chippewa; polygyny, how-
ever, was an established custom but practiced only by men who were
able to support several families. Such men might be chiefs, headmen,
medicine men, and those who by reason of their hunting and trapping
abilities could easily support more than one family. Informants on
every reservation gave names of old men who had had two simul-
taneous wives; and several that had had three or four. A Lac du
Flambeau informant had married his second wife 10 years after the
marriage to his first wife, both wives living in the same wigwam and
each rearing a family. “When one would go away berry-picking,
the other would nurse the babies of both. One did the cooking; the
other the sewing, generally. The oldest wife finally left him.”

One Red Lake man had four simultaneous wives, living two in a
wigwam. Densmore visited a wigwam housing two wives and wrote:

A man might have two or three wives and all lived in the same lodge, each
having her appointed part of the lodge. The writer witnessed a ceremony in
the house of a Chippewa at Grand Portage who had two wives. Two of his
sons lived with him and the family seemed to be living harmoniously. A Cana-
dian Chippewa said that many Indians had two wives, adding that “the man sat
between them.” He said that in old times some men had five wives, and that
one was the “head wife” and the only one who had children. [Densmore,
1929, p. 73.]

Gilfillan (1901, vol. 9, p. 84) notes that sometimes the wives were
sisters, and that usually the man had two separate homes or wigwams
for his two families: sometimes they lived in one dwelling.

SUCCESSIVE MARRIAGES

Most informants had been married several times. Some had de-
serted their partners or had been deserted by them; others had lost
a partner by death. Widows were expected to obtain permission to
remarry. The following relates to the custom of being released from
widowhood:

If a husband dies, his wife must stay single for a year and continue living in
her home as if her husband were still living there. At the end of the year, the
woman is dressed up and painted. The medicine man comes and so do the dead
husband’s parents and relatives. One of two conditions will be placed before the
woman: First, her husband’s parents, or, if these are dead, his nearest relatives
may accept the presents the woman offers them. If they accept them, she is

884216—51——_12

162 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buun. 146

released and is free to marry anyone of her own choice. Or, secondly, the
parents or relatives may present her with a husband right there, and she must
accept him. Her husband’s relatives have that right. Should the widow marry
before this ceremony, or be seen with a man, her relatives will violently upbraid
her. A certain woman here had one braid cut on one side to remind her that
she had done something wrong. One woman had a gash cut in her throat.
Another had a gash cut in her face. Men fall under the same restrictions laid
down for women. ([Hilger, 1936, pp. 47-48.]

SEPARATIONS

Separations between husbands and wives were part of the Chippewa
culture pattern. Either partner could leave and return to the parental
home, or could marry another person. Warren (1885, vol. 5, pp.
2538-254) relates that a certain chief who had married for the first
time at 30, marrying a widow by whom he had one son, left her after
2 years and married a girl 14 by whom he had a family of 6 children.

yet g y y

Gilfillan writes:

It is quite common for a husband, after having lived with a woman for a long
time and raised quite a family, to abandon her and his children without any
cause, and to take another woman and begin to rear a new family. A man, for
instance, will abandon his wife and children at Leech Lake, and go to Red
Lake, 75 miles distant, and take a new wife there. Or he may do so in the same
village. In such circumstances he never does anything to support the wife and
children he has abandoned. I have never known a man in such a ease to do the
slightest thing for the children. [Gilfillan, 1901, vol. 9, p. 85.]

INFIDELITY

Infidelity on the part of the wife was punishable, even with death;
generally either the wife or the paramour was killed. The mother
of a Vermilion Lake informant had told her daughter a story in
order to teach her to be faithful to her husband: “Young Chippewa
braves went to war to fight the Sioux. When they came back, one
found his wife married to another brave. So he said to him, ‘We’ll
each have half of her.’ They took her to the woods and cut her
right down the middle and each one took one-half.” The husband
of an unfaithful wife usually disfigured the woman’s face so no man
would desire her. Informants knew of men who had cut gashes with
flint stones in the cheeks of their unfaithful wives and pressed out
the flesh in order to cause permanent scars. “That’s what they did
to women; but it was quite all right for men to have two wives!”
remarked a Nett Lake interpreter.

SUMMARY

Child life among primitive Chippewa began with birth and ended
with puberty. Although approximately 280 secondary sources con-

HILGER] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 163

tain information related to Chippewa culture, only very scanty and
scattered material is found in them regarding child life. Exceptions
are Densmore’s Chippewa Customs (1929), Jenness’ The Ojibway
Indians of Parry Island (1935), and Landes’ The Ojibwa Woman
(1938 b). These contain some information. The following summary
is based on data which the writer collected at intervals from 1932-40
during interviews with 96 Chippewa informants on 9 Chippewa reser-
vations: 5 in Minnesota (Red Lake, White Earth, Nett Lake, Ver-
milion Lake, and Mille Lacs) ; 3 in Wisconsin (Lac Courte Orielle,
La Pointe, and Lac du Flambeau) ; and 1 in Michigan (L’Anse).

Prenatal period.—Childless couples were not well thought of. The
cause of inherent sterility was not known; herbal decoctions taken
orally might produce it artificially. Fertility also could be produced
by drinking a potion. On the Mille Lacs Reservation both husband
and wife drank it; on other reservations only women. Artificial
limitation of families was not known; but abstinence was practiced.

Some informants believed the child a human being from the moment
of conception; others, not until the fetus gave signs of life; still others
had never heard anyone tell. No methods were known by which sex
could be produced either at conception or during pregnancy. Sex,
it was thought, could be predicted from the contour of the pregnant
mother’s body, the location and the movements of the fetus, and by a
type of affinity. Parents had no preference regarding sex of children;
mothers hoped that some would be girls since daughters more often
than sons cared for aged parents. Children born with certain physi-
cal traits, such as a patch of gray hair or a birthmark, were con-
sidered reincarnated.

Except on the Mille Lacs Reservation the husband of a pregnant
woman was not hampered by food taboos or prescriptions, and only
on the Lac Courte Orielle were restraints ‘placed on his conduct. The
pregnant woman, on the contrary, was circumscribed by numerous
restraints in both food and conduct.

Although methods for induced abortions were known, they were
seldom resorted to; they were viewed with great disfavor. Old in-
formants today speak of them in whispers. An induced aborted fetus
was not given burial rites; a spontaneously aborted one was given
burial the same as an adult person. When a spontaneous abortion was
feared, the mother submitted to fumigation as a preventive.

Birth—A birth in the late fall or winter took place in the home
wigwam. If, however, there were preadolescent children in the home,
the mother retired to a small wigwam built for this purpose some
distance from home. If birth occurred in the spring or summer or
when en route, the mother retired to a place in the open where privacy
was assured. Midwives or the woman’s mother or sisters attended

164 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buu 146

the birth. Certain midwives were also capable of delivering still-
births.

The husband was present at birth only when no women were avail-
able or when some strong person’s assistance was needed; other male
persons were never present. The husband could in no magical way
assist at birth. Shamans, either men or women, were summoned if
labor was unusually difficult. |

Women worked until the onset of labor. When labor began herbal
medication was administered orally. The child was delivered while
the mother knelt on a thin layer of grass or hay spread either on the
ground or on a bulrush mat. She either pulled on a rope or braced
herself on a horizontally elevated sapling. Most mothers returned to
work within a day after birth.

The navel cord was sewed into a beaded buckskin bag. Beadwork
was of no particular design nor were bags of a prescribed shape.
Girls’ bags differed in no way from boys’. The bag was hung on the
bow of the cradleboard along with toys. Later it was either given to
the child or disposed of by the father if a boy’s, or the mother if a
girl’s, in order to bring magical favors of occupational dexterity upon
the child.

No meaning was attached to the caul on Vermilion Lake, Nett Lake,
and White Earth Reservations; on L’Anse, Red Lake, and Lac Courte
Orielle, a child so born was considered favored with good luck.
Neither significance nor treatment was accorded the fontanels. The
placenta was hung in the crotch of a tree; never buried or burnt.

A baby’s first bath, administered on the day of birth, was given in an
herbal decoction contained in a nonleakable birchbark receptacle.
Since this type of bath was thought to promote a strong constitution,
the mother gave it repeatedly during babyhood.

Neither mother nor baby was subjected to purification ceremonials.
The day following birth, or very soon after, parents invited guests
to a meal to celebrate the baby’s arrival.

Postnatal interests.—In the very early day nose rings and earrings
were worn by both sexes; more recently only earrings. Many infor-
mants had holes pierced in lobes and along edges of ears. Ears were
pierced unceremonially on day of birth or at any time.

Babies were tied to cradleboards to develop erect posture, to permit
mothers to transport them on backs when traveling, and to keep them
safely in place while mothers worked. When older they were tightly
and snugly wrapped in buckskin and laid in hammocks or swings.
When old enough to stand the strain, a baby was carried on its moth-
er’s back seated in its mother’s blanket or shawl. Rabbitskins, swamp
moss, or down of cattail served as diapers. ‘To prevent chafing the
baby was powdered with ashes of cedar bark, charcoal of cedar crushed

Hitcer] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 165

to powder, or finely ground decayed root or wood of cedar or Norway
pine. Lullabies were conventional songs of nonsense syllables.

A child’s first clothes were the rabbit and weasel skins in which
it was wrapped when in its cradleboard. When old enough to creep
it wore a slip of softly tanned deer hide, or preferably fawn hide. In
warm weather it wore no clothing at all. It was given its first moc-
casins when about able to walk. A hole, about the size of a blueberry,
was cut into the soles of these. Neglecting the hole might cause the
child to grow up to be lazy, “so lazy that it would not even wear out
the soles of its moccasins”. At night babies were wrapped in rabbit-
skin blankets.

Clenching fists during first days of life was not significant; but
allowing an infant to touch fingers of one hand with those of the
other was like counting the days it had still to live. This was to be
guarded against. No significance was attached to either the advent or
the loss of a first tooth, nor to a child’s first word. Since, however,
a child that talked early was considered intelligent, it might be fed
raw brains of any small! bird, the belief being that this developed
early speech. Not a child’s first steps but its first walk, at least half
the length of the wigwam, was celebrated. If this happened at home,
the parents gave a feast; if it walked to neighbors, the neighbors
gaveit. On Nett Lake and Vermilion Lake Reservations a ones first
portage on foot was celebrated with a feast.

Nursing and weaning.—Babies were nursed immediately after birth.
If the mother died or her condition did not permit nursing, the child
sucked porridge from a small hole punched in the bladder of an animal.
The porridge was made by boiling wild rice or corn meal in fish or
meat broth. Babies were nursed whenever they cried, and-not at set
intervals. Commonly children were nursed for 2 years; some nursed
4 or 5 or more years, two at times nursing together. Never were any
nursed while the mother was pregnant. Babies nursed while in their
mothers’ arms or in cradleboards; older children stood while nursing.
A child was usually weaned by being separated from its mother; at
times, by being frightened by nipples blackened with charcoal.

Atypical conditions.—T wins as well as their families were respected
in the community. Twins were thought to be related to the spirit
world; but no supernatural powers were ascribed to them. One case
of quadruplets was known; supernatural powers had been ascribed to
these.

Sick or weak babies were bathed in a herbal decoction or given a
purgative potion. Nursing mothers also chewed a purgative root,
passing it, through milk secretion, to the child. The purgative values
of the same root, when heated and placed on the child’s abdomen, were
thought to penetrate the intestines. Furthermore, a sickly child or

166 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 146

one that cried a great deal might be given a dream-name by an old and
healthy person—all children, irrespective of health, were given a
dream name shortly after birth. If the child continued to ail, it might
be given a third and a fourth name, but no namer might do so twice.
If all remedies failed the child was admitted to the Midé’wiwin, the
native religion. Two ailing children, 4 and 5 years of age, were ad-
mitted on the White Earth Reservation in June 1938; a 1-year-old
child, on Nett Lake Reservation in August 1939.

The Chippewa practiced neither head nor body deformation. Ifa
child was born deformed it was said that the mother had been fright-
ened while carrying the child. Incest was decidedly an unusual event.
Illegitimacy was rare. A child born out of wedlock was called “a
stolen child” or “a child conceived in sneaky ways.” Although parents
of both the paramour and his partner felt disgraced, the unmarried
mother was allowed to care for the child in her parental home. In-
fanticide was not conventional.

At no time did the Chippewa enslave people or treat them as ser-
vants. Adoption of children prevailed even though both parents of
the child were living. Adults, too, were adopted. In the case of small
children the parents’ consent was necessary. A dying mother might
arrange for the adoption of her children. There were no adoption
ceremonials.

Naming a child—Chippewa names originated in dreams. They
were given to children ceremonially by a person of either sex. Hach
child was named shortly after birth. Ailing children might be given
several additional names successively. An unfailing rule was that
the namer had to be a person grown old in continuous good health.
Names of informants were Coming-over-the-hill, Morning-at-dawn,
Ice-feathered-woman, One-that-can-walk, Round-old-woman, and
One-that-can-climb. Many children were given a pet name. No
names were given at puberty.

Prepuberty fasts—Both boys and girls spent some days in silent
commune with the spirit world while abstaining from food and drink.
A child at about the age of reason abstained wandering about the
woods from sunrise to sunset for one day. A child from about 7 to 9
years spent from 1 to 4 successive days thus; those from 10 to 12 years,
from 4 to 10 days. A 10-day fast was participated in more often by
boys than by girls. The reward was usually supernatural or shaman-
istic powers. Parents often chose the occasion for fasting for younger
children, the determinant being a dream of the previous night. A 10-
day fast was an entirely voluntary affair.

All fasters had cheeks blackened with charcoal, but without design.
Older boys usually fasted on platforms or in nests in trees at some dis-
tance from home. Girls and younger boys walked about the woods.

Hitear] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 167

Upon the faster’s return the mother—or if she were dead, the grand-
mother or aunts—prepared a feast and invited guests. Nearly all
informants were emphatic in saying that eligibility for fasting ended
with a girl’s first menses and a boy’s change of voice.

Fasting in early childhood provided contact with the spiritual
world; when a little-older, a medium in a guardian spirit who usually
took the form of a person, an animal, an inanimate object, or an
activity of nature. Ifa faster was not thus favored, power could be
procured only by joining the Midé’wiwin. The guardian’s preroga-
tives were to give advice, knowledge, and power. Powers were of
various kinds: the producing of rains or winds; success in war;
knowledge of medicinal properties of plants; prediction of future
events or discovering causes for past ones; and the uses of magic.
After a successful fast the faster kept his power, as directed by his
vision or dream, in a “medicine bundle.” This bundle was an integral
part of the faster’s spiritual life and could be used for his personal
benefit.

Puberty customs.—Although well defined customs ushered a girl
into her maturity, few girls received previous instructions regarding
the occurrence or the significance of it. During her first menses, but
not during any succeeding ones, a girl’s cheeks and forehead were
blackened with charcoal, but without design. Her hair was tied back
or completely covered. She was thus isolated in a small wigwam built
either by herself or her mother, or by both of them, at a little distance
from home. A small stick was given her with which to relieve any
itching feeling. She cooked her own food, but under no circumstances
was she allowed to eat food in season. Doing so would destroy the
growth or production of it. She was kept busy with beadwork and
sewing. Her mother and older women instructed her regarding the
potentialities of motherhood as well as proper conduct and responsi-
bilities in her newly acquired membership among “old women.”
During all succeeding menses she was not to touch plants since it
withered them; nor babies, nor clothes belonging to her father or
brothers, since it crippled them. She was not to cross the path of
anyone, since it paralyzed him. Puberty of informants, interpreters,
and their daughters had occurred between the ages of 12 and 15.

After isolation the girl bathed herself—not even hands or face had
been washed during isolation—washed her clothes, and walked to the
home wigwam over a path of cedar boughs or bark to a feast-day meal
prepared by her mother. The old women who had acted as instructors
during her isolation were guests. After the feast she was free to
mingle with the people, but was not yet permitted to gather or prepare
food in season. This taboo was removed if she was fed a small quan-
tity of the food by some one else. After puberty a girl was not per-

168 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLu, 146

mitted out of sight of her mother or an older woman designated by
the mother.

There was no puberty fast or rite for boys. Boys might be inspired |

to a prolonged fast at puberty, but it was merely incidental; it was
not conventional to do so,

With the change of voice a boy’s boyhood ended. With a girl’s
puberty isolation, her girlhood ended. Childhood had ended for both.
Both must now learn the techniques of adult occupations. The boy
must learn to make bows and arrows, learn to hunt large game, to build
canoes. He must participate in government. The girl must learn to
weave mats, tan hides, make birchbark receptacles, design beadwork,
build wigwams, make snowshoes, harvest wild rice, make maple sugar,
and dry meat, fish, berries, and fruit.

Training children —Chippewa children learned conformity to con-
ventional tribal standards, the mental content of the tribal culture
pattern and the customs and beliefs regarding religion, health, politics,
economics, and social life. They were lectured to, counseled, presented
with ideals, and allowed to listen in when elders conversed. They
imitated their elders in play, participated with them according to
their capacities in serious work, and were nonparticipant observers
at ceremonials.

Parents, but more especially grandparents and older persons, were
the chief instructors. Instructions were usually given when an oc-
casion presented itself; sometimes it was a planned affair.

Although praise, reward, punishment, scolding, and frightening
played a part in the training of the child, no great emphasis was
laid upon them. Children were not ridiculed for failures. A child
that walked away from a group that was being instructed gave evi-
dence thereby that it would not lead a good life. If parents discerned
a child as one of promise, it was sent to bed without food some evening.
Upon rising in the morning it was handed both charcoal and food.
If it chose charcoal, parents felt encouraged; if bread, they knew they
had been mistaken.

Training in religion and supernatural power.—The child was taught
the belief in a Supreme Being called Ki’cé Man’it6, the Great Spirit.
The Great Spirit was meditated upon and addressed formally in prayer
during the Midé’wiwin ceremonial. Help was sought more generally
from minor deities of lesser powers that dwelt in nature and from
individual guardian spirits. Tobacco was the usual ceremonial offer-
ing for minor deities; it was seldom offered to the Great Spirit.

The Mideé’wiwin of the Chippewa was their “mode of worshiping
the Great Spirit, and securing life in this and a future world, and
of conciliating the lesser spirits, who in their belief, people earth.
sky, and waters.”

Hitcnr] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 169

Any person, including children and infants, could be admitted at
any celebration. Children are admited only to the first of the four
or more degrees. This degree did not carry with it magical power
known as “grand medicine.” Celebrations were always held in fall
and spring and could in addition be held at any time of the year as
a thanksgiving offering or as a petition for the restoration of health.

Belief in life aftér death—Chippewa traditions taught that the
spirits of their children and adults after death went westward. Both
burial and mourning customs evidenced a belief in life after death.
Spontaneously aborted fetuses, stillbirths, and children were given
burials in the same manner as adults. Parents offered food at the
grave of a child and kept fire burning there for several nights fol-
lowing burial, in the same manner as was done for adults. The
customs of mourning for a departed child, too, did not differ from
those for a mature person.

Training in health measures.—Shamanistic powers were always ex-
ercised when sickness was ascribed to evil powers; in all other cases,
only when natural remedies, such as potions of herbs, roots, and
barks, bloodletting, sweating, and tattooing, failed.

Children were never taught the secrets of the curative powers
of the shaman. They might be eyewitnesses to cures ascribed to
shamanistic procedures, however. ‘They might, too, be witnesses in
the collection and preparations of herbalists, bloodletters, and tattoo-
ers. But knowledge of the ingredients used by them was not shared
with children. Children might obtain knowledge of medicinal values
of herbs, roots, and barks in prepuberty dreams, but such knowledge
was not exercised until adulthood was reached. Children partici-
pated in sweat baths with adults.

Baths in herbal and root decoctions were given to babies to
strengthen them physically. As they grew older, they were given
charcoal to eat for the same purpose. The Chippewa had no means
of establishing immunity to disease.

Moral training—Emphasis was placed upon children being kind
and respectful to older people. They were instructed and trained
to share the superfluous. A child was not only taught honesty for-
mally but was made to return articles not belonging to it. A lying
child was told it was making a wrong beginning in life; a boasting
or a tale-bearing one was not listened to. Quarrels between children
of the same family were ignored ; but children quarreling with neigh-
boring children were forbidden to play with them again. Most
hurting denunciations were “you dog” or “you ghost.”

Mental training.—The native language was learnt by imitation or by
hearing elders speak it. The sign language was not taught to children.
Only a few adults in each band learnt it so that the band might com-

170 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Bun. 146

municate with Plains area tribes. Neither were children taught the
ideograms or pictographs which their elders used in sending mes-
sages, recording events, and making maps designed for travel.

Diversions.—Chippewa children were given much freedom. They
therefore spent much time in play. Their developmental age was not
unlike that of white children: when small each played with toys as an
individual; when a little older, boys and girls played together in
games and in imitation of elders; when older still, sexes excluded each
other in play; when approaching puberty both boys and girls had
chums.

Children did not participate in social dances of elders but were
nonparticipant observers and readily imitated them. A favorite di-
version of elders was visiting, children sitting by and listening in.
Topics of conversation might be gossip, legends, historic events,
travels, or visits of other tribes.

Vocational training.—Birchbark canoes of various sizes were used
for travel during the summer and whenever the rivers and lakes were
free of ice; for fishing, hunting, berrying, and wild-rice gathering;
and for moving household goods and families. Canoe making was
a man’s job; women, however, often assisted. Boys past puberty
were expected to help and to learn thereby.

Winter travel was done by both men and women on snowshoes.
Toboggans were used by trappers and hunters to haul game and furs.

Hunting provided both food and clothing. It was the man’s chief
occupation throughout the year, but especially in winter when the
furs were heavier and the animals were not bearing young. <A boy’s
first successful hunt in killing an animal used as food, probably some
fowl or small fur-bearing animal, was celebrated by the parents with
a feast to which all the village was invited. The game was served
as part of the main dish.

Foetal inclusions were used as hunting charms. Hunters who had
tutelary powers related to hunting exercised them in their own favor.
Meeting an owl when hunting was a bad omen.

Deer were shot, impounded, or snared. At night they were enticed
by torchlight; in the daytime, by the “deer call.” Artificial saltlicks
brought them into open spaces. Bears were caught in deadfalls.
Wolves, foxes, and rabbits were snared. Wolves were also trapped.
Beavers were speared.

Fish, both fresh and smoked, were important foods. In the fall,
groups of families moved to lake shores to fish for winter storage.
Nets, fishhooks, spearheads, and traps were used in fishing. Women
usually used nets which they made of inner bark of basswood or of
nettles.

Hitenr] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 171

Adult clothing was made from finely tanned hides of deer, moose,
elk, or bear, and of dressed skins of rabbit, beaver, and other small
fur-bearing animals. Children’s clothing was made of delicately
tanned hides of fawn and of skins of beaver, squirrel, and rabbit.
Dressing skins and tanning hides was a woman’s work, with girls
past puberty assisting. Blankets worn by adults and used as bed
coverings were of rabbitskins.

Women made receptacles, both leakable and nonleakable, of birch-
bark. These were used as work baskets, storage containers, winnow-
ing trays, and buckets for carrying water, collecting sap, and gather-
ing berries. Women made mats of bulrushes to be used as wigwam
coverings, floor mats upon which to squat, and “tables” off which
to eat.

The type of dwelling most generally used by the Chippewa was
the wigwam. It was a circular or elongated framework of saplings
covered with bark or with bark and bulrush mats. Other types of
dwellings, but less frequently used, were the bark house, the peaked
lodge, and, occasionally, the tipi.

Wood was the only fuel used. Women gathered it daily and packed
it on their backs in carrying straps. Fire was made by striking two
stones or by rotating a wooden fire drill. Punk served as tinder.
Cooking was done over an open fireplace, either in or outside the
wigwam. In winter the fireplace gave also heat and light to the
wigwam. If additional light was needed, torches were used.

Gardening consisted of cultivating corn, squash, pumpkins, and
beans in small plots scattered haphazardly in tall grass and in open
spaces in the woods.

Chief foods were meat, fish, wild rice, berries, maple sugar, cul-
tivated vegetables, and corn. Food not needed for immediate use was
often stored in caches.

Every Chippewa was a member of a band, a political unit of 5 to
50 families. A band was headed by a chief who was assisted by sub-
chiefs. Generally chiefs and subchiefs inherited their positions. The
title could, however, be bestowed on any man of good repute, because
of merit. All bands were affiliated with either the Lake Superior
Bands or the Mississippi Bands. No unusual deference was shown
a chief. Sons of chiefs were not given any preparation for the office.
They were expected to grow up to be men of good character and good
sense; lacking these they would not be respected by the people. They
would not thereby, however, lose their rights to their inheritance of
the chieftainship.

A chief’s main duties were to preside at council meetings, to make
decisions regarding the general welfare of the tribe, to settle disputes

172 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 146

among his people, and to represent his band at annuity payments,
signing of treaties, and at large gatherings of many tribes. Women
probably acted as chiefs on occasions. They did express their opin-.
ions at council meetings and were often called upon for information,
Council meetings consisted of all men and women past puberty.

Marriage—The gentes of the Chippewa were exogamic. This
exogamy extended to all members of one’s gens in any Chippewa tribe
anywhere. Cross-cousin marriages were not permitted, according to
informants of the present study; Jenness and Landes found them
among the Canadian Ojibwa.

A man was of marriageable age as soon as he was able to supply
by hunting enough food to support a family; a girl, as soon after
puberty as she was able to do all the work expected of a housewife.

Courting was not institutional; girls were closely guarded after
puberty. A lover, however, might make his presence known by play-
ing a flute near the home of the girl. If he had serious intentions,
he might bring a deer or some other large animal that he had killed
while hunting to the home of the girl’s parents, signifying thereby
that he had in mind to provide well for his family. Love charms were
carried by men and women who wished to draw upon themselves the
affections of another.

A girl was usually not acquainted with the man whom she married,
but her wishes regarding him were generally taken into consideration.
Sometimes a girl was forced into marriage. There was no marriage
ceremony. Hating together and sharing the fur robe used as bedding
signified that the couple was married. During the first year of married
life the couple usually shared the wigwam of the girl’s parents. If
at the end of the year all was satisfactory, the couple built its own
wigwam.

Polyandry did not exist among the Chippewa; polygyny was insti-
tutional, the number of wives depending on the ability of the man
to support the families. None were known to informants to have
more than four wives; many had two. Densmore was told of one man
who had five. Successive marriages were general, owing to death or
desertion. Widows were expected to obtain permission to remarry.
Separations were institutional, either party leaving the other and
either returning to the parental home or marrying another person.

Punishing the unfaithful wife was conventional. Generally either
the wife or her paramour was killed. If the wife was not killed, her
husband disfigured her face so badly that he felt certain no other man
would again desire her.

HILGER]

CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE

173

SOME PLANTS USED BY THE CHIPPEWA

Alder (Alnus incana [L.] Moench)

Artichoke (Helianthus tuberosus L.)

Ash (Fravinus quadrangulata Michx.)

Aspen (Populus grandidentata Michx.)

Balsam (Abies balsamea [L.] Mill.)

Basswood (Tilia americana L.)

Beans (Phaseolus vulgaris L.)

Birch (Betula alba L. and Betula
papyrifera Marsh.)

Blackberry (Rubus cubatus Focke)

Black raspberry. (Rubus occidentalis
L.)

Bloodroot (Sanguinaria canadensis L.)

Blueberry (Vacciniwm vacillans Kalm)

Boneset (Hupatorium perfoliatum L.)

Bulrush (Scirpus validus Vahl.)

Butternut (Juglans cinerea L.)

Carrot (Daucus carota L.)

Catnip (Nepeta cataria L.)

Cattail (Typha latifolia L.)

Cedar (Juniperus virginiana L.)

Chokecherry (Prunus virginiana L.)

Corn (Zea mays L.)

Dogwood, red (Cornus
Michx.)

Hider (Sambucus canadensis L.)

Elm (Ulmus americana L.)

False solomon’s-seal (Smilacina stel-
lata IL.)

Fern (Phegopteris
Michx. )

Gooseberry (Ribes oxyacanthoides L.)

Hazelnut (Corylus americana Walt.)

Hemlock (7'suga canadensis [L.] Carr.)

Indian turnip (Arisaema triphyllum
[L.] Schott)

Ironwood (Carpinus caroliniana Walt.)

Jack pine (Pinus banksiana Lamb.)

stolonifera

hexagonoptera

Lettuce: (Lactuca sativa L.)

Maidenhair (Adiantum pedatum L.)

Maple (Acer saccharum Marsh. )

Milkweed (ASclepias syriaca L.)

Nettle (Urtica gracilis Ait.)

Norway or red pine (Pinus resinosa
Ait.)

‘Oak (Quercus bicolor Willd. and Q.

stellata Wang.)
Onion (Allium cepa L.)
Peas (Pisum sativum L.)
Poison ivy (Rhus toxicodendron L.)
Potato (Solanum tuberosum L.)
Pumpkins (Cucurbita pepo L.)
Radishes (Raphanus sativus L.)
Raspberry (Rubus idaeus L.)
Rutabaga (Brassica campestris L.)
Sarsaparilla (Aralia nudicaulis L.)
Slippery elm (Ulmus fulwa Michx.)
Snake root (Aristolochia serpentaria
L.)
Spruce (Picea rubra [DuRoi] Dietr.)
Squash (Cucurbita maxima Duchesne)
Sumac (Rhus typhina L.)

Tamarack (Larigz laricina [DuRoi]
Koch)
Tomato (Lycopersicum esculentum
Mill.)

White pine (Pinus strobus L.)

Wild currant (Ribes floridwm L’Her.)

Wild potato (Glycine apios L.)

Wild rice (Zizania aquatica L.)

Wild rose (Rosa pratincola Greene)

Wild strawberry (Fragaria virginia
Duchesne)

Juneberry -(Amelanchier canadensis Wintergreen (Gaultheria procumbens
[L.] Medic.) L.)
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’

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184 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Bunn 146

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Hinerr] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 185

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Hiterr] CHIPPEWA CHILD LIFE 187

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BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 146 PLATE 1

INFORMANTS, RED LAKE RESERVATION, 1933.

1, John Baptist Thunder and daughter, Jane Bonga. 2, Charley Johnson,
3, Angeline Highlanding. 4, Ella Badboy,

Apval Aqeg ‘¢

‘OFG ‘UCHBAIOSAY sov'T III ‘prvog o[pe1d IOF
“CC6T ‘UONRAIASAY OyL'T] poy ‘asey[la Yewouog ul urMOoA, ‘7 “GE6l ‘UONvAsasoY oye] uous ‘aIog pseMoTy “spy ‘7

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€3alV1d 971 NILATING ADOTONHLA NVOIYAWY AO NVayNna

‘pus peoy ye jiede sado1 SUIpjOy YINs VON “deu sit s1oife Aqeg i
‘S]9SUl pUR sodly YsuIese UOTd910I1d Bv se dooy IJeAO BuljJou 9dONV “yoouureYy ut doaajse Aqeg ‘¢ ‘“yoowuley suliedaig ‘7 pue J

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pe Fy.

€AalV1d 9rl NILA11NG ASOTIONHILA NVOIYAWY AO NVANNSG

“yorq yo Aqeq suiddoig ‘¢ *yorq uo Aqeq BulAiied ‘Z *yo¥q sJoyjour 0} BuIsuIMg ‘7
‘OV6l ‘MOVG S.YSFHLOW NO GaLYOdSNVYL ASV NOILVAYNSSAY SOV ATW

yaLV1d 9bPl NILSA1IINA ASOTIONHLA NVYDIMSWY AO NVAYNSa

“CCB “UOI]RAIOSOY DET por Ye “Sfél “UOT BAIISOY Yyley oy MA iG pure 7
“NSYOQTIHD VMAddIHD

SEIS

GA31V1d 9¢l NILSATING ADSOIONHIA NVDIYAWYV AO NVAYNaA

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 146 PLATE 6

ce
y

MIDE’WIWIN CELEBRATION, WHITE EARTH RESERVATION, 1938.

7, Man and woman dancing; man in white shirt beating drum. Notice two poles near
man beating drum; upon each pole rests a bird carved of wood. 2, Old people resting
between dances. Young mother holding her child, one of two for whom Midé’wiwin
was being celebrated. Pails and calico cloth on rod are offerings.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 146 PLATE 7

Sete Uae Ey LETS

CHIPPEWA BURIALS.

1, Burials near home, Red Lake Reservation, 1933. 2, M de’wiwin cemetery, White Earth
Reservation, 1938. 3, Mide’wiwin cemetery, Lac Courte Orielle Reservation, 1935.

"CC6l “UOLLBAIISIY
neoquie|y up oe'T ‘suIoy Ie9u sjeling ‘7 CCG] “UONBAIISOY Bye] poy “SULI9AOD YIO[D YIM 9APIL) “Ik

“SIVIYNG YWMAddIHD

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“OvV61 NOILVAYASSY SOV ATIIW ‘Sivieng

6 3A1V1d 971 NILA11NG ASOTONHLA NVOIMAWY SO NvaHna

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Yley ay Ay ‘courp menbg ‘¢ ‘8£6T “WONRAIasaYy Yley oy, ‘9ouUKp apig ‘2 ‘S£6T “UONRAIIsOY YLey oY A, ‘oourp uqqey |
‘AdAL IVNOILIOVY | SHL 4O NOILWSHDSYy ONIAOFNA

ta Ne ee CR Ble ee ee : 2 ;

N3aYaTIHD

Ol 3ALV1d 971 NILSIINa

ASONONHLA NVOISAWY AO Nvauna

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 146 PLATE 11

Pea Winans

bbb perp ame rent

sma

Wty,

POW-WOW PARTICIPANTS, RED LAKE RESERVATION, 1933.

1, Wife of Amos Big Bird. 2, Amos Big Bird.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 146 PLATE 12

DANCE HALL, RED LAKE RESERVATION, 1933.

I, Interior. 2, Exterior.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 146 PLATE 13

E, MILLE LACS RESERVATION, 1940.
2, Frying boiled spruce resin
3, Split roots of spruce used in sewing. 4, Preparing

MAKING BIRCHBARK CANO

1, Boiling spruce resin for mending cracks in birchbark.

mixed with charcoal in grease.
ground by leveling it.

*sajod fo Jas puosas jo suvaw
Aq uontsod our yreq BSulor[g ‘¢ “usa1s 10 Mog IO} yiomoweiy pue sojod jo suvaur Aq s0uva Surdeys ‘2 “yleqyoiq suloryg ‘7

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vl 3ALVW1d 9Fl NILS1T1INa

ASONONHLA NVOIMAWY 3O nvayngd

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 146 PLATE 15

MAKING BIRCHBARK CANOE, MILLE LACS RESERVATION, 1940—CONTINUED.

1, Framework for either bow or stern. 2, Binding edges with split roots of spruce.

*BULIOO]} pur squ Sule *¢ "youd yim yleq ul syovis Sully fa "saspa jo sulpulq pure “3 ulIOOY “sql ‘soyemun3 Joy Apeoi a0ury ‘7

“CAaNNILNOSD—O0r6l ‘NOILWANSRSaY SOV] ATIIW ‘SONVD MYVEHOYIG ONIMNVW

91 3ALV1d 971 NILE1Ing ASOTONHL]A NYOINSWY AO nvsayung

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 146 PLATE 17

MAKING BIRCHBARK CANOE, MILLE LACS RESERVATION, 1940—CONTINUED.

1, Canoe ready for use. 2, Transporting canoe. 3, Canoe on exhibition at Mille Lacs
Indian Trading Post, Onamia, Minn.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 146 PLATE 18

MAN’S SNOWSHOES COLLECTED ON LAC COURTE ORIELLE RESERVATION, 1935.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 146 PLATE 19

i ms
ns eM:

oo
SUS e nem mewne

sie EOE

it aa

GURNEAU MAKING CORD OF BASSWOOD
RESERVATION, 1933.

2, Softening strands by moistening.

JOSEPHINE FIBER, RED LAKE

1, Rolling strands of basswood fiber.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 146 PLATE 20

FISHING

1, Fish nets being hung to dry, Red Lake Reservation, 1933. 2, Shuttle and sample of
fish net made on Red Lake Reservation, 1933.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 146 PLATE 21

FISHING.

1, A haul of fish, Red Lake Reservation, 1932. 2, Fish nets drying, L’Anse Reservation,
1935.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 146 PLATE 22

EMMA MARTIN TANNING DEER HIDE, LAC COURTE ORIELLE RESERVATION, 1935.

1, Wringing hide after soaking. 2, Last wringing of hide. 3, Second scraping of hide.
4, Stretching hide.

“Opry SUTYOUIG ie “Oply fo suldeios jeuly TE “‘Buldeios [epuy 10} peyrie11s 9ply i

“GEANNILNOD—GE6L ‘NOILVAYSASSY 3JIIIYO ALYNOD OVI ‘ACGIH 4350 ONINNVL NILYVAW YVNWSA

€¢ ALV1d 971 NILS11NaG ASOTONHLA NVOINMAWY AO NVSaHNa

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 146 PLATE 24

BIRCHBARK RECEPTACLES.

J, Anna Knott making wild-rice winnowing trays and teaching daughter to make them,
Vermilion Lake Reservation, 1939. 2, Nonleakable birchbark receptacles, Red Lake
Reservation, August 1933. 3, a, Work basket; b, makok’; c, winnowing basket: Red
Lake Reservation, 1933.

‘

BULLETIN 146 PLATE 25

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY

LAKE

a ei 3 :
tie ae ee
nae Luts Se

MARY GURNEAU MAKING NONLEAKABLE BIRCHBARK RECEPTACLE, RED

RESERVATION, AUGUST 1932.
3, Folding opposite end.

1, Holding bark over fire. 2, Fastening folded end.
4, Completed receptacle.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 146 PLATE 26

WIGWAMS.

7, Mishiman and wife and their wigwam covered with birchbark and bulrush mats, Lac
Courte Orielle Reservation, 1935. 2, Wigwam entirely covered with bark, Red Lake
Reservation, 1932.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 146 PLATE 27

WIGWAMS.

1, White Earth Reservation, 1938. 2, Lac du Flambeau Reservation, 193 5eeoelaacraud
Flambeau Reservation, 1922.

“YAeqyoiiq pur yse yory]q Jo ssulisaoy ‘fF “yieq
“Yq PUL S]BUI [1eIIBd JO SBULIBAOD “EF *aTUIZ WIeMSIAA ‘7 “SaXxOg pieOogpied pous}iey pue ‘1oded 1¥) ‘s}eur [leIed Jo sBuLIDAOD ‘7

“OV6L ‘NOILVANSS3SY SOV] ATIIW ‘SWYMSIM

8¢ 31iV1d 97! NILSIINa ASOTONHLA NVYOIYMAWY AO NVvayNna

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 146 PLATE 29

TIPI. WOMEN PACKING WOOD, RED LAKE RESERVATION.

7, Tipi covered with birchbark—entrance view, Mille Lacs Reservation, 1940. 2, Same as
J; rear view. 3, Nancy Cain, 1939. 4, Mrs. Peter Everywind, 1932.

“CO6l ‘UONBAIASOY 2[[PUO a4n0D
oe] ‘y1eq pur ‘s}oo1 *sqioy [euloIpour SULIIY eS) (OM SGGGT ‘UOI]PAIISIY OYe'T poy tA SAKAI “UONBAIISOYY Ye] poy “Asteq PqeIN ‘7
‘SGY4SH ONILOAIIODN ‘Ssseov1dsyI4

O€ 3ALV1d 9! NILAITINEa y ASOTONHLA NVOIYMAWY 30 NVvaHnNSs

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 146 PLATE 31

FIREPLACES.
1 and 2, Lac du Flambeau Reservation, 1935 and 1934. 3, Mille Lacs Reservation, 1940.

INDEX

Abies balsamea L.,-96, 173 Asclepias syriaca L., 146, 173
Abnaki, 1 =: Ash (Frazinus quadrangulata Michx.),
Abortions, 5, 10-11 ; 173
induced, 10, 11, 163 bark, 138, 139
spontaneous, 11, 81, 163 black, 138, 139
Abstinence, practice of, 3, 4, 163 slabs, use of, 108
Acer saccharum Marsh., 173 Aspen (Populus grandidentata Michx.),
Achipoes (Chippewa), 2 173
Acorns, eaten, 144, 145 Aspen wood, 148
Adiantum pedatwm L., 91, 173 Aunt, 34, 38, 48, 82
Adoption, 33-35, 68, 93, 166 Automobiles, 83, 84
Adults, adoption of, 34, 166 tires, use of, 127
clothing, 129 Awl, bone, 117, 128, 135
Afterbirth, see placenta, 17, 18 metal, 117, 135
Ages, not recorded, 103 Axes, 141
Aitkin County, Minnesota, 147
Alder (Alnus incana [l.] Moench), 173 | Baby, atypical, 165
Alder bark, dye from, 136, 137 birth celebration, 19, 164
Alder wood, hanger, used in cooking, deformed, beliefs regarding, 32, 166
142, 143 first bath, 18, 96, 104, 164, 169
preferred as fuel, 142 first tooth, 165
Algonkin, 1 illegitimate, 32, 33, 166
Algonquian family group, 1 killing of, 30, 33, 166
Alliwm cepa L., 144, 173 naming of, 31, 32, 35, 166
Allouez, Father, 1 nursing, 28, 29, 165
Alnus ineana [L.] Moench, 173 sick, 31, 32, 166
Alum, 92 toys, 23
Amelanchier canadensis [L.] Medic., transportation of, 24, 25, 164
145, 150. 173 weaning, 165
Amulets, 120, 121 Baby swings, 24

Anaquat, Chippewa subchief, 151

Anderson, Susan, informant, x1It

Animal bones, use as toys, 23
use of, 119

Animal claws, use as toys, 110

Animi’ki, Thunder bird, 106

Backache, treatment for, 98
Bad Boy, Ella, informant, xt
Bad River, 70 ,
Bag, basswood-fiber, 135
beaded buckskin, 16, 113, 164
bearskin, 73

buckskin, 17, 31, 45, 67
burial, 81

cedar-bark, 149
“medicine,” 42, 45, 65

Apples, 87
Aquewanse, see Bagowas, Chippewa
chief, 151

Aralia nudicautis L., 94, 173
Arapaho, 1 navel cord, 16, 23, 104, 164
Arbucle, Mrs. George, informant, xIv red flannel, 67
Ardeshaw, Grandma, informant, xiv pipe, 67
Arisaema triphyilum [L.] Schott, 173 | Bagowas, Chippewa chief, 151, 152
Aristolochia serpentaria L., 173 Bait, used in trapping, 123
Armstrong, Benjamine G., 158 Ba’kak, skeletal being, 114
Arrowheads, 104, 118, 119 Ball bearings, used in game, 111, 112
Arrows, 56, 107, 119, 122 Balsam (Abies balsamea L.), 96, 173

blunt, 119, 125 Bambilian buds, 91

poisoned, 119 Band, political unit, 150, 171
Arrows and bows, 104, 118, 119, 125, 127 | Baouichtigouin, old name for Chip-
Arrow shaft, 104, 118, 119 pewa, 1

feathering, 119 Baptism, 38
Artichoke (Helianthus twberosus L.),| Baraga, Frederic, 108

144, 173 Barber Town people, 70
884216—51 16 189

190

Bark, covering for houses, 137
medicinal, 88, 90, 169
Barrett, Tom, informant, x11
Baskets, sewing, 134
storage, 171
winnowing, 25, 134, 171
work, 134, 136, 171
Bass, large-mouthed black, 127
rock, 129
Basswood (Vilia americana L.), 173
bark of, 15, 135
use of, 21, 24, 66, 91, 96, 125, 126,

INDEX

Birchbark, building materials of, 50, 56,
140

canoe, 115, 116, 117

“casket,” 80, 81, 82

cups, 52, 54

gathering, 133, 134

grave coverings of, 83, 85

receptacles of, 18, 21, 55, 1383-186,
144, 147, 149, 168, 171

uses, 104, 105, 108, 116, 117, 122, 123,
128, 1382, 134, 137, 188, 139, 143, 149

wrappings of, used for dead, 85

128, 131, 133, 184, 185, 137, 188, | Birch (Betula alba L.), 173

139, 170
Basswood fiber, making of, 185
Bath, after puberty isolation, 52
baby’s first, 18, 96, 164
medicinal, 169
sweat, 88, 96, 169
Bathtub, baby’s, 18, 104, 164
Beads, 82, 183
Beadwork, 52, 55, 56, 70, 133, 167, 168
Beans (Phaseolus vulgaris L.), 144,171,
173
Bear clan, 154, 155
Bear degree, 68
Bear grave marker, 83
Bears, 16, 120, 121, 128, 124
black, 160
foot, uses of, 64, 65
grease, use of, 96, 143
hunting method, 124, 170
meat, 148
skins, tanning of, 182
uses of, 65, 129, 182, 171
Beaver grave marker, 83
Beavers, 124, 170
skin, use of, 69, 129, 171
skulls, used as charms, 121
Bed coverings, bear-skin, 132
rabbit-skin, 1383, 171
sharing of, 172
Bedbugs, 140
Beds, platform, 139
Beef, 67
Behavior, taught by parents, 56
Belcourt, Father, 101
Belt, sent as a symbol, 108, 109
Beltrami, J. C., 46
Benay, informant, xIIt
Berens River, Manitoba, 76
Berries, 8, 51, 52, 53, 80, 87, 134, 144, 171
dried, 55, 144, 148, 149, 168
Berry patches, 144
Berry picking, 12, 24, 51, 52, 109, 115,
161, 170
Betula alba L., 178
Betula papyrifera Marsh., 173
Beverages, 146
Bibliography, 173-187
Big Bear, informant, xt
Big Bird, Amos, informant, x1It
Big Couderay, 123
Birchbark bathtub, baby’s, 104, 164

Birch (Betula papyrifera Marsh.) , 173
Birch trees, 42, 133
Birch wood, 112
Bird brains, fed to children, 27, 165
Bird carving, use in lodge, 66
Bird grave marker, 83
Birds, 56
nests of, 56
taboos regarding, 7
Birth, 12-20, 163, 164
aids, 15-16, 18, 164
assistance at, 12-13, 1638, 164
celebration of, 19, 20, 164
place of, 12, 163, 164
position of mother, 13-14, 164
time required, 6, 164
Birthmarks, 4, 7
Black art, 9, 71, 73
Blackberry (Rubus eubatus Focke), 173
taboos regarding, 7
Blackfoot, 1
Blackjack, Cecilis, informant, xm
Blackwood, Beatrice, 114
Bladders, animal, use as baby bottle, 28
Blankets, 22, 24, 25, 67, 68, 74, 76, 77, 86,
91, 93, 96, 112, 139, 140, 171
cotton, 68
rabbit-skin, 26, 27, 133, 165, 171
weaving, method of, 26, 27
wrapping for dead, 85
Blood sucking, 95
Bloodletting, curing process, 88, 90, 95,
96, 169
method, 95
Bloodroot (Sanguinaria canadensis L.),
173
dye from, 136, 137
Blue, Solomon, informant, x1m
Blueberries, 53, 108, 129, 188, 145
canned, 150
dried, 145
patches of, 138, 139
picking of, 45, 53
taboos regarding, 7
Blueberry (Vaccinium vacillans Kalm),
173
Bluesky, Mose, subchief, 151
Boasting, 99, 169
Boats, 148
Body decorations, 68, 85
Body mutilation, mourning custom, 79

INDEX

Boise Forte band, 152

Boneset (Hupatorium perfoliatum L.),

92, 178
Bonga, Jane, informant, x11
Bonnet, feather, 78
Boshey, Jennie, informant, x1Ir
Bows, 118
construction of, 119
fire, 142 =
Bows and arrows, 56, 58, 110, 118, 119,
120, 168
Bow strings, 118, 119
Box, deposit, 82, 85
Boys, first killing of game, 120, 170
preadolescent, 109
prepuberty fasts, 39-44, 166, 167
puberty customs, 49, 168
toys, 110
training of, 56, 120, 168
voice change of, 168
Bracelets, leather, 130
Brains, used in tanning, 130, 132
Brassica campestris L., 144, 150, 173
Bread, 29, 41, 42, 47, 54
buried with the dead, 78, 80
Indian, 145
Broiling methods, 143
Brown, T. T., 110
Brun, Mary L., informant, xIm
Buckets, 134, 171
berry-picking, 134, 171
sap, 171
Buckskin, beaded, 56
clothes of, 56, 118, 160

use of, 21, 22, 51, 68, 71, 91, 104,

105, 127, 128, 145, 164
Buffalo, John, chief, 151
Buffalo meat, 148
Bullets, 111
Bullhead grave marker, 83
Bulrush (Seirpus validus Vahl.), 173
mats of, 136, 137, 138
Burfield, Sister Corda, x1
Burial customs, 78, 79, 80, 81, 82, 85
Burial, fetus, 5, 11, 81
flexed position for, 80, 82
mound, 85, 86
seaffold, 85
tree, 85
Burials, 84-86
Burton, Frederick R., 26
Bushnell, David I., Jr., 1387, 155
Butternut (Juglans cinerea L.), 173
bark, dye from, 137
tree, 91
Buttons, used on wicks, 148, 144

Cache, storage, 149, 150, 171
Cain, Nancy, informant, x11
Cakes, 39, 82

Canadian Indians, 93
Cannibalism, 73, 74, 101.

191

Canoes, 98, 112, 122, 127, 148
_ birechbark, 115-117, 170
construction of, 115-117, 148, 168,
170
dugout, 116
miniature, used as offerings, 62
Caribou clan, 155
Caribou teeth, use as toys, 23
Carpinus caroliniana Walt., 91, 119, 128,
181, 137, 140, 173
Carrot (Daucus carota L.), 144, 173
Casket, birchbark, 80
wooden, 80
Cass, Governor Lewis, 158
Cass Lake Reservation, Minnesota, Ix,
155
Catfish, taboos regarding, 6, 7
Cathartic, herbs as, 92
Catlin, George, quoted, 113, 116
Catnip (Nepeta cataria L.), 18, 31, 92,
173
Cats, 107
“Cat’s eye,” roots, 92
Cattail (Typha latifolia L.), 173
down, use as diapers, 25, 164
mats, 1387
Caul, 4, 17, 164
beliefs regarding, 17, 164
Cedar bark, ashes of used as “‘taleum
powder,” 25, 96, 164
mats of, 137 :
uses of, 132, 139, 140, 148
Cedar boughs, decoction from, 31
use as preventive measure, 97
use in isolation rites, 52, 53, 54, 167
Cedar (Juniperus virginiana L.), 173
boughs, decoction from, 31
use as preventive against dis-

ease, 97
use in isolation rites, 52, 58,
54, 167
saplings, canoes made of, 116
’ wigwams of, 66

smudge, use of for fumigation, 97
trees, dugouts, 116
wood, uses of, 21, 23, 25, 65, 83, 108,
Tr Glos
Cedarroot, Martha, informant, x1v
Celebrations, birth, 19-20, 164
first step, 27, 165
Midé’wiwin, 60, 66, 67, 188
Celery, wild, 92
Cemeteries 80, 84, 85, 86
Midé’wiwin, 83
Central tribes, 1
Ceremonial, birth, 19, 164
dances, 69
healing, 67
naming, 38, 39
ec aaeuaey Alexander Francis, 114,
Charcoal, uses of, 25, 28, 29, 40, 49, 51,
53, 54, 59, 79, 86, 96, 108, 116, 164, 165,
166, 167, 168, 169

192

Charms, carrying of, 120, 121, 160, 161,
172
hunting, 120, 121, 170
love, 160, 161, 172
Chepeways (Chippewa), 2
Cherry trees, 91
Chewing, diversion, 109
Cheyenne, 1
Chief Lake group, 70
Chief Lake, Wisconsin, 62, 151
Chiefs, 82, 150, 151, 161, 171, 172
duties of, 152, 171, 172
hereditary, 150, 171
Chief Silver Scott, Chippewa chief, 151
Chieftainship, awarded for merit, 151,
171
hereditary, 150, 171
Childbirth, see Birth.
Childhood, rx, 162
Childless couples, 3, 163
Children, 91
atypical conditions, 30-38, 165
burial of, 169
clothing, 129
diversions, 109, 170
education, 55-58
first actions, 27, 165
first clethes, 26, 27) 165
first portage, 27, 165
first step, 27, 165
first tooth, 27, 28, 165
first word, 27, 165
mental training, 102-109, 169, 170
moral training, 97-101, 169
nursing, 28, 29, 165
play of, 109, 110
reward and punishment of, 58, 59,
168
righteous, discovery of, 59, 60, 168
still-born, 12-13, 15, 81, 164
training of, 55-60, 97-101, 168, 169
weaning, 28, 29, 165
Chippeways (Chippewa), 116
Chippewa, 1, 49, 56, 58, 60, 63, 68, 70, 71,
77, 79, 80, 90, 97, 98, 100, 101, 102, 105,
LOCOS iat Saat: Gs tO:
121, 125, 129, 130, 133, 134, 137, 140,
141, 144, 147, 150, 156, 157, 161, 162,
163, 166, 168, 169, 170,171, 172, 173
dialects of, 108
language, 69, 78, 100, 107-109
names for months, 103 (list)
reservations of, 2
treaties and negotiations with, 2,
151
various names for, 2
See also Achipoes, Chepways, De-
wakanha, Dshipewehaga, Nin-
niwas, Objibway, Odjibwag,
Ojibwa, Ojibways, Saulteaux,
Salteur, and Uchipgouin.
Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin, 140, 149
Chippewa River, Wisconsin, 151
Chisel, 127

“Coming-over-the-hill, informant, 37,

INDEX

Chokecherry (Prunus virginiana L.),
29, 185, 173
dried, 145, 148
Chosa, Anna, informant, xIII
Christianson, Margaret, informant, xIv
Chum, close friend, 48, 54, 109, 170
Ciscos, 127
Clay, used for red paint, 68
Cloth, 91
calico, 68, 91, 139, 160
eotton, 82
use for baby wrapping, 24
Clothing, 119, 129-133, 171
buckskin, 56, 78, 106, 133, 171
buried with dead, 81
man’s suit, 77
offerings of, 70, 83, 84
Cloud, Peter, informant, xIIt
Clubs, use in fishing, 127
Coffee, 39
Coffins, home-made, 85
Colds, treatment for, 92
Coleman, Sister Bernard, 16, 60
Collegeville, Minnesota, x1
Comets, beliefs regarding, 107
166
Conception, 4, 5, 163
Conduct taboos, expectant mother’s, 8-9
Cones, birchbark, use of, 23
Consanguineous groups, 109
Containers, birchbark, 18, 21, 55, 133—
186, 144, 147, 149, 168, 171
trapezoid-shaped, 134, 186, 150
Conversation, form of diversion, 114,
170
Cookies, 39
Cooking, 161
arrangements, 128, 142, 143, 171
utensils, offered to dead, 85
Cooper, Dr. John M., x1, 23, 71, 154
Cope, Leona, 103
Copper, use of, 119, 124, 125, 127
Copper Harbor, Michigan, 90, 107
Copper River, Michigan, 136, 137
Copway, George, 1, 58, 110, 112, 150, 151
Corbine, Louis and wife, informants, xIIT
Cords, 119, 143
basswood, 125
Corn (Zea mays L.), 144, 171, 173
dried, 145, 149, 150
preparation of, 145
Corn meal, 145
Corn-meal porridge, 29
fed to babies, 28, 165
Corn soup, 29, 145
Cornus stolonifera Michx.,
173
“red willow,” 63
Corylus americana Walt., 173
Cotton cloth, use of, 24, 82
Couderay Band, 151, 152
Couderay River, 83
Council meetings, 1, 152, 154, 172
Counting, numbers, 105
time, method of, 102, 103
Courting, 156-158, 159, 172

dogwood,

INDEX

Cousins, cross, 155
parallel, 155
Cow sinew, use of, 118
Cowhide, uses of, 118
Cradleboard, child’s, 16, 21, 22, 23, 26,
29, 63, 129, 180, 164, 165
construction of, 21, 22, 23
preparation of, 22, 24
purpose of; 28, 164
Cradles, 21, 25, 129, 164, 165
Crane, 89
Crappies, 129
smoked, 148
Crawley, Mary, informant, x1I
Cree-Montagnais, 1
Creeping, 26, 165
Cross Lake, Minnesota, 46
Cucurbita maxima Duchesne, 144, 171,
173
pepo L., 144, 171, 173
Cups, birchbark, 52, 54
Curing procedures, 87, 88
Currant, wild (Ribes floridum L’Her.),
Ol, 173
Curtis, Dan, informant, xIv

Daisy, Mabel, informant, x11r
Dakota, 84, 118
Dance, bear, 113
beggar’s, 113
buffalo, 113
ceremonial, 69, 70, 81
corn, 113
deer, 113
eagle, 113
feather, 113
fish, 113
forty-nine, 113
horse, 113
mourning, 82
of the braves, 1153
outfits for, of leather, 130
rabbit, 110, 114
side, 114
snake, 113
social, 70, 101, 112, 113, 114
squaw, 110, 113, 114
War, 70
woman’s, 113
Dancers, ceremonial, 69
Dancing, 67, 109, 110
Dates, lack of, 103
Daucus carota L., 144, 173
Daughter, 80
Dawasa’gon, see Odawa, 85
Dawn, informant, 37
Days, counting of, 102
De Brot, William, informant, xm
Deadfalls, use of, 123, 170
Dead, offerings to, 82, 83, 84, 169
Death, 8, 10, 33; 34, 78-80

193

Decoctions, 91
abortions, induced by, 10, 11, 163
flower, 56
herb, 15, 16, 31, 90, 96, 163, 164
medicinal, 29, 56, 91
use in baby’s bath, 18, 31, 96
Decorations, 68, 78, 79
Deer, 48, 120, 121, 122, 124, 149, 157, 158,
Alu
brains, used in tanning, 130, 182
fat, use of, 25
gift, significance of, 157, 158, 172
hunting, metheds of, 122, 123, 170
meat, 148
sinew, use of, 118
tallow, used in lamps, 143
“Deer call,” used in hunting, 123, 170
Deerhide, 128, 129, 130, 136, 141, 160
drums of, 88
slips, worn by children, 26, 165
snowshoes of, 118
use in cradles, 21
Deformation, not practiced, 166
Deities, minor, 60, 61, 168
Delaware, 1
Delivery, position of mother, 13-14
Densmore, Frances, 1x, 16, 17, 19, 20, 21,
23, 24, 28, 29, 31, 49, 51, 56, 57, 63, 67,
88, 90, 97, 99, 108, 110, 111, 118, 114,
115, 119, 181, 183, 184, 137, 140, 144,
146, 147, 148, 151, 157, 158, 161, 163,
2, .
Designs, beadwork, 133, 164
facial, 166, 167 ;
tattooing, 93, 95
Devil, belief in, 61
Dewakanha (Chippewa), 2
Diapers, 15, 22, 25, 164
Directions, finding of, 105
Dishes, 53, 54, 83, 89, 128
birehbark, 43, 48, 49, 54, 55, 94, 104,
134, 135
. cooking, 68
gray enameled, 67
mourning, 86
tin, 86
Diversions, 109-115, 170
Divination, 46, 75-78
Do’dam, 158, 154, 155, 159
emblem, 83
See also Totems.
Do’damie groups, 109
Dog meat, served at celebrations, 67, 149
Dogs, 59, 67, 107, 124
sacrifice of, 62
Dogwood (Cornus stolonifera Michx.),
srs}
Dogwood, red, use as tobacco, 63
mixed with tobacco, 63
Dolls, 103, 110
clothing of, made by child, 56
grass, 58
magic, 71
rag, 110
Doughnuts, 82

194

Dreams, 32, 49, 54-55, 61, 70, 166-169
bad, 36, 40 .
good, 36, 40
personal accounts of, 47, 48, 54, 55
prepuberty, 88, 167, 169
reticence regarding, 36, 55
significant, 40, 61
Drummer, 111, 112
Drums, 76, 77, 88, 89, 109, 110, 111
“hig? 70
buckskin, 77
game, 111, 112
Midé’ wiwin, 22, 67, 69, 70, 73, 88, 138
sacred, 70
Drumsticks, 69, 71, 88, 110
Dshipewehaga (Chippewa), 2
Duck craniums, use as toys, 23
Ducks, eaten, 149
Dugouts, 116
Dwellings, 1387-141
Dye, black, 136, 137
blue, 1387
brown-orange, 137
green, 137
mahogany, 136, 137
purple, 136
red, 136, 137
yellow, 136

Hagle bills, use on belts, 108

Hagle grave marker, 83

Earache, treatment for 93

Earrings, 20, 21, 164

Ears, piercing of, 4, 20, 21, 164

Eastern-Central tribes, 1

Eastern tribes, 1

Eclipse, beliefs regarding, 107

Education, children, 55-60

Hggs, use in tanning, 130

Elbow Lake, Minnesota, 64, 65

Elder tree (Sambucus canadensis L.),
96, 173

Elder wood, uses of, 118

Elk, 120

Hlk hide, use of, 129, 171

Hk grave marker, 83

Hm bark, uses of, 138

Elm saplings, use of, 140

Elm, slippery (Ulmus fulva Michx.), 15,
16, 91, 1738

Him (Ulmus americana L.), 173

Hmishewag, informant, xm

Epidemics, 97

Escanaba, Michigan, 151

Etiquette, 97

Hupatorium perfoliatum L., 173

Everywind, Mrs. Peter, informant, xm,
139

Hxogamous sibs, 154

Bxogamy, 172

Hye drops, 92

HKyes, treatment for weak, 92

INDEX

Facial decorations, 68
Fainting, treatment for, 92
Family, abandonment of by father, 162
limitation of size, 3-4, 163
Family groups, 109
Family life, description of, 127-129
Fasters, feast for, 43, 45, 48
Fasting, 67, 168
manner of, 40-43, 48
prepuberty, 39-44, 166, 167
puberty, 49
purpose of, 44-46, 49
Father, 59
instructor of sons, 57
role during birth of child, 13, 19
unmarried, 33
Fawn hides, 129, 171
Feast, 45, 48, 52, 67
birth celebration, 19, 20, 164
burial, 81, 82
child’s first portage, 27, 165
first killing of game, 120, 170
first step celebration, 27, 165
hunting, 124, 170
mourning, 86, 87
naming of child, 36, 37, 38, 39
prepuberty, 48, 167
puberty, 52, 53
Fenton, Dr. William N., xi
Fern (Phegopteris hexagonoptera
Michx.), 173
Fern tips, eaten, 146
Fertility, medicine to produce, 3, 163
Fetus, aborted, 10, 11, 81, 163, 169
burial of, 5, 11, 81, 163, 169
finding of, 121
position of, 5
Fever, treatment for, 92
Fibers, use in tying, 14, 185
vegetable, 125
Figurines, bulrush, 90
wood, 73
Fire, built at grave, 78, 81, 83, 84, 169
methods of making, 142, 171
“Wireball,’ magic, 71, 72
Firecrackers, offered to dead, 84
Fire drill, 171
Fire pits, located in wigwams, 143, 171
Fireplaces, open, 142, 171
Fish, 53, 87, 120, 123, 144, 146, 148, 170,
171
broth, 29
dried, 55, 128, 149, 168
glue, 118
oil, used in lamps, 143
porridge, 29
smoked, 125, 128, 148, 170
spirits, of, 61
taboos regarding, 7, 51
Fishhooks, 125, 127, 170
bone, 127
wood, 127

Faces, blackened, 40, 41, 47, 48, 49, 51,| Fishing, 7, 12, 51, 53, 75, 87, 104, 109,

54, 79, 80, 166, 167

110, 115, 125-129, 170

INDEX

195

Fish nets, 119, 125, 126, 127, 129, 135, | Games—Continued

170
“Fish trains,” 129
Fish traps, 125, 170
Flag, sweet, 92
Flambeau, Wisconsin, 145
Flannery, Dr. Regina, 28, 77.
Flashlights, use of, 123
Flatmouth, Pillager chief, 153
Flatmouth, Ruth, chief’s sister, 153
Fleming, George and wife, informants,
XIII
Flesher, moose bone, 128, 132
Flint, use of, 119, 142
Floaters, cedar-wood, 126, 127, 185
Flood-of-light-pouring-from-the-sky, in-
formant, 37
Flower designs, bead work, 1383
Flute, courting, 157, 158, 172
Foetal inclusion, use as charm, 120, 121,
170
Fond du Lac Band, 152
Fontanels, 18, 164
Food, baby’s 28, 165
buried with dead, 80, 81
nursing mother’s, 29
offered to the dead, 82, 83, 84, 85, 169
preparation and storage, 144-150,
aly.
sacrifices of, 8
taboos, 6-8, 51, 52, 53
Forks, 82
Fowl, 144
use of leg bones, 88, 89
use of skeletal heads, 110
use of skin, 65
Fox [tribe], 1, 2
Foxes, 121, 124, 170
Fox grave marker, 83
Fox skin, uses of, 65
Fragaria virginia Duchesne, 58, 92, 173
Frazinus quadrangulata Michx., 173
Frogs, 106
Fruit designs, beadwork, 1383
Fruits, dried, 52, 55, 168
wild, 29, 53
Frying pan, 80
Fuel, wood, 141, 142, 171
Fumigation, medical use of, 163
musk used in, 97
treatment for nosebleed, 74
“Furniture,” toy, 110

“Ga,” reproachful expression, 100
Gambling, 109, 110, 111, 112

shoe, 110, 111

stakes wagered, 112
Games, 110-112

awl, 110

blindfold, 110

bone, 110

bunch of grass, 110

butterfly, 110

cannibal, 110

children’s, 110

coasting erect, 110
‘counters used, 111, 112
deer sticks, 110
diversions, 109, 110
hand, 110
hide-and-seek, 110
lacrosse, 110, 112
marbles, 110
moccasin, 110, 111, 112
of chance, 110
of dexterity, 110
plate, 110
playing camps, 110
snake, 110
snow snake, 110
spinning stone, 110
stick, 110
windego, 110
woman’s, 110
Gangwawa, Chippewa chief, 151
Gardening, 144, 171
Gaultheria procumbens L., 146, 173
Gauthier, Ben and wife, informant, xIv
Gauthier, Louis, informant, xIv
Geese, eaten, 149
supernatural, 44
taboos regarding, 7
Gens, 19, 83, 109, 153-155, 172
Gentes, 153-156, 172
list of, 153, 154
Gestation, 4-6
Gifts, mourning, 86
Gilfillan, Joseph A., 23, 28, 36, 37, 98,
101, 141, 146, 151, 161, 162
Gimiwananakwod (Rain Cloud), in-
formant, xIII
Girls, first menstrual isolation, 43, 50,
51, 54, 55
first menstruation, 35, 43, 48, 50, 167
hairdressing, 51, 167
life after puberty, 55, 157
» Iarriageable age of, 156, 172
preadolescent, 109
prepuberty fasts, 39-44, 166, 167
puberty rites, 50-55, 167, 168
tasks of, 129
toys, 110
training of, 55, 56, 168
Glasby, Mrs., informant, XIII
Gloves, 130
Glycine apios, L., 173
Gockey, Ellen, informant, xi
God, belief in, 60
Goggleye, Sophie, informant, x1II
Goiter, treatment for, 93
Gooseberry (Ribes oxyacanthoides L.),
173
canned, 150
Goose grease, medicinal use of, 31
Goose, wild, 89, 120
Government, tribal, 150-153
Gowboy, James, informant, xII
Grandchild, 67, 91, 131

196

Grandfathers, 39, 57, 76, 77, 107, 123,
124, 140 :

“Grand Medicine,” power of Midé’ wiwin
society, 71, 73, 74, 101, 160, 169

“Grand Medicine Society of the Ojib-
way,” 41, 42

Grandmothers, 24, 26, 30, 34, 38, 42, 43,
50, 538, 54, 57, 59, 67, 100, 118, 140, 158

Grandparents, 33, 56, 57, 90, 140, 168
respect shown to, 57

Grand Portage Band, 152

Granduncle, 38, 75, 76

Granville, 74

Grave covers, 82, 83

Grave markers, 83

Graves, 82, 83

Grease, used in lamps, 1438

Great-Grandmother, 38, 125

Great Lakes region, 156

Great Spirit, supernatural being, 45, 60,
63, 70, 81, 168

Greeley, Margaret, informant, x1v

Groceries, offerings of, 68

Guardian spirits, 41, 44, 60, 61, 62, 122,
167, 168

Gunfire, anouncement of birth by, 19

announcement of death by, 79

Guns, 19, 79, 107, 112, 123, 124

Gurneau, Josephine, informant, x11

Gurneau, Mary, informant, x11

Hairdressing, 51
Hall, Alice, informant, xt
Hallowell, Dr. A. Irving, x11, 4, 31, 71,
76, 80, 84, 156
Hammocks, baby’s, 24, 110, 128, 164
construction of, 24
Hancock, Michigan, 127
“Happy Hunting Ground,” Indian hea-
ven, 85
Hatchets, 91
Hats, 78
Hawk degree, 68
Hawk skin, uses of, 65
Hazelnut (Corylus americana Walt.),
173
dye from, 136
trees, 91, 94, 96, 111
Headaches, treatment for, 95
Headbands, leather, 130, 141, 142
Headmen, 161
Health measures, 31, 32, 63, 88, 89, 92,
166, 169
Heart trouble, treatment for, 92
Helianthus tuberosus L., 173
Hell-divers, taboos regarding, 7
Hemlock bark, dye from, 136, 187
Hemlock (T7'suga canadensis [L.],
Carr.), 173
Herbs, decoctions of, 15, 16, 31, 90, 164,
165
medicinal, x1, 3, 15, 16, 18, 29, 74,
88, 90-93, 169
roots, bark, 90-93

INDEX

Hides, tanned, 55, 68, 112, 149
use of, 24, 68, 130, 132, 133, 137, 138
Hilger, Sister M. Inez, 40, 60, 61, 72, 73,
74, 76, 80, 86, 87, 89, 90; 95, 102, 106,
107, 108, 119, 124, 125, 140, 148, 151,
155, 162
Hill, Mildred, informant, x11
Hodge, Frederick Webb, 101
Hoffman, W. J., 41, 42, 63, 107, 110
Highlanding, Angeline, informant, x1
Hilger, Sister Marie, x1
Homesky, Susie, informant, x11
Hominy, 29
Honesty, training in, 98, 169
Horn, animal, use in bloodletting, 95
Horse sinew, use of, 118
Horsehide, uses of, 118
Houghton, Michigan, 127
Houses, bark, 137, 140, 171
grave-covering, 82, 83
“Houses,” toy, 110
Hudson's Bay, 2
Humming birds, 125
Hunters, 120, 123, 124, 170
Hunting, 12, 87, 109, 110, 115, 118, 119,
119-125, 168, 170
prescriptions on, 8
Hurley, Wisconsin, 145
Husband, 80, 84, 164
Husband-wife relations, 8

Ice-feathered-woman, informant, 37, 166

Ideographs, 108, 170

Illegitimacy, 32, 33, 166

Implements, buried with dead, 80

Ineest, 82, 166

Incisions, method of, 95

Indian Reservations (map), facing, 1

Indian Village, 70

Infanticide, rare, 33, 166

Infidelity, 162

punishment of, 162, 172

Informants and interpreters, list of,
XIII-XIv

Informants, information from, 4, 5, 6,
10, 11, 14, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 24, 25, 27,
28, 29, 30, 31, 33, 34, 35, 36, 38, 40, 42,
43, 47, 49, 50, 51, 52, 53, 54, 58, 60, 61,
62, 63, 64, 65, 67, 69, 71, 72, 73, 75, 76,
77, 78, 79, 80, 81, 82, 83, 85, 86, 87, 88,
89, 90, 91, 92, 93, 94, 95, 98, 99, 100,
101, 102, 108, 104, 105, 106, 108, 109,
112, AIS. AAS TAGS a 1A Sy aon oar
1:2359425,.127,,.180; 13d i382 sae dea
135, 136, 137, 140, 141, 142, 148, 144,
145, 146, 149, 154, 155, 156, 157, 158,
159, 161, 162, 167, 172

Inhalations, medicinal use of, 74, 93

Insanity, beliefs regarding, 73, 95

Instruetions, time of, 57, 58

Instructors, 56, 57

Intercourse, abstinence from, 3-4

Interior Bands, 151

Intermarriage, restrictions on, 153, 154

Interment, 80-82

INDEX

Interpreters, informants and, list, x1II-
XIV

Tntoxicants, 101

Iron, 119, 124, 125

Iron Mountain, 74

Ironwood (Carpinus caroliniana Walt.),
91, 119, 128, 131, 137, 140, 173

Troquois, 2

Isham, Mary, infermant, xl

Isolation of girls at puberty, 50, 51, 54,
167, 168

Ivy, poison (Rhus toxicodendron L.),
97, 173

Tyubidud, Mary, informant, x1II

Jackets, buckskin, 104, 130
Jacknife, 81
Jenks, Albert Ernest, 147, 153
Jenness, Diamond, rx, 39, 49, 81, 155, 163,
172
Jesuit relations, 1
Jogues, Father Isaac, 1
Johnson, Charley, informant, xIIt
Johston, Ana, informant, XIv
Joints, treatment for dislocated, 93
Jones, Mrs. Vivian, informant, xIiI
Jones, Volney H., 135
Jones, William, 36, 37, 153
Juglans, cinerea L., 17:
Jump River, Wisconsin, 140
Juneberry (Amelanchier
[L.], Medic.), 173
eanned, 150
dried, 145
Juneberry tree, 92, 142
Juniperus virginiana L., 173
See also Cedar.

canadensis

Kah gay se goke, informant, x11
Kaliher, Sister Deodata, xiv
Kappler, Charles, 152
Kerosene, use of, 127
Kettles, 85, 91, 128, 1438
sap, 91
Keweenaw Bay, 73, 125, 127
Keweenaw Point, Lake Superior, 68, 107
Kicé’Mian’its (Supreme Being), 38, 60,
62, 63, 68, 168
Kickapoo, 1
Kindness, training in, 97, 98
Kingfisher clan, 155
Kingfisher, John, interpreter, XI, XIII
Kinnikinnick, dogwood and tobacco mix-
ture, 63, 115
Kit’ci’man’itd, spirits, 60
Knives, 82, 95
bone, 20
butcher, 16, 150, 151
stone, 16
Knott, Anna, informant, xl
Kohl, Johann G., 49, 63
Krokodak, Mary, xii

197

Lae Courte Orielle Band, origin of, 152
Lac Courte Orielle Reservation, Wiscon-
sin, Ix, X, XI, XIII, 8, 8) 9, 16,17, 20, 28,
29, 32, 34, 36, 40, 44, 47, 52, 58, 60, 62,
63, 64, 65, 66; 68, 70, 72, 73, 75, TT, T9,
80, 83, 84, 85, 86, 87, 89, 90, 91, 94, 101,
102, 112) 1S a4 AS AG iS; 119;
120, 122, 123, 124, 127, 130, 133, 134,
137, 138, 140, 142, 143, 146, 147, 149,
150, 151, 156, 157, 158, 159, 160, 163,
164
Lac du Flambeau Band, 152
Lac du Flambeau Reservation, Wiscon-
sin, x, xtv, 40, 46, 65, 75, 77, 78, 80,
86, 93, 106, 115, 121, 144, 147, 150, ils
160, 161, 163
Lactuea sativa L., 144, 173
Lac Vieux Desert celebration, 63
Lac Vieux Desert, Wisconsin, 74, 151
Lafleur, L. J., 63
Laidlaw, G. E., 114
Lake bands, 151
Lake Erie, 2
Lake Huron, 2
Lake of the Hurons, 1
Lake of the Woods Ojibway, 23, 71, 154
Lake Pokegema, Wisconsin, 150
Lake Superior, 1, 68, 125, 146
Lake Superior Band, 151, 152, 171
Lake Tracy, 1
Lamps, construction of, 143, 144
Land O’Lakes, Wisconsin, 151
Landes, Ruth, rx, 49, 156, 163, 172
Language, 107-109, 169
native, 107-109, 169
sign, 169
written, 108, 170
L’Anse Band, 151, 152
L’Anse Reservation, Michigan, x, XIV,
14, 17, 21, 37, 40, 53, 60, 61, 63, 66, 68,
69, 70, 73, 74, 75, 76, 79, 82, 87, 89, 90,
95, 106, 107, 121, 125, 126, 127, 129,
123, 136, 137, 188, 143, 145, 151, 154, 164
Lanterns, use of, 122, 123
La Pointe Band, 152
La Pointe, Mrs. Joseph, informant, xIv
La Pointe Reservation, Wisconsin, Xx,
xvi, 17, 25, 30, 36, 45, 70, 75, 79, 91, 95,
106, 1138,°122123, 132° 156, 142, 144,
147, 151, 163
Lariz laricina [DuRoi] Koch, 173
La Rush, Henry, informant, xt
La Rush, Sister Syrilla, informant, x11
La Vieux Desert Reservation, 63, 74, 151
Leaf designs, bead work, 135
Leech Lake, Minnesota, 79, 162
Leech Lake Reservation, Minnesota, Ix,
xI, 79
Legends, amusing, 58
historical, 58
moral, 58
purpose of, 57, 58
Leggings, buckskin, 118
Lelonek, Mrs. Peter, x1
Lettuce (Lactuca sativa L.), 144, 178

198

Life after death, belief in, 78-87, 169
Lighting methods, 141, 142,.148, 171
Lightning, spirit of, 61, 62
Lips, J. H., 124
Little Lake Couderay, 152
Lizards, 8
whistling, 106
Lodges, bark, 140, 141
Midé’ wiwin, 1388, 141
peaked, 137, 140, 141, 171
sweat, 96
Long Lake, 89
Love charms, 160, 161
Lullabies, 25, 26, 110, 165
Lung trouble, treatment for, 91
Lures, use in hunting, 120
Lycopersicum esculentum Mill., 173
Lyford, Carrie A., 133
Lying, training against, 99
Lynx, taboos regarding, 7

Magic, 9, 120
Maidenhair (Adiantum pedatum L.),
173
root, 91
Makok’, storage container, 134, 136, 150
Man’id6, guardian spirit, 42
Manito, celestial being, 146
Manitou Rapids Reserve, Ontario, rx
Maple (Acer saccharum Marsh.), 16,
173
sap, 104, 134, 144, 146, 147
sugar, 23, 31, 51, 52, 54, 56, 58, 77, 84,
87, 91, 123, 134, 144, 146, 147, 149,
150, 171
cakes, medicinal, 31
making of, 12, 51, 52, 54, 56, 72,

109, 140, 168
roots, dye from, 137
taffy, 147

tree groves, 144, 146, 149
Marquette, Michigan, 45, 151
Marriage, 158-160, 172

ceremony, lack of, 159, 160, 172

cross-cousin, 155, 156, 172

customs, 153-162, 172

forced, 158, 172

separations, 162, 172

successive, 161, 162, 172
Martin, Emma Demare, informant, x1
Martin, Peter, informant, x11
Martin group, 70
Martin skin, use of, 69
Martins, 125
Mats, 55, 91

bear-skin, 182

bulrush, 13, 72, 80, 82, 89, 104, 135,

136, 187, 138, 139, 140, 171
cattail, 137, 139
cedar-bark, 137
floor, 136, 137, 171
making of, 168

Mattresses, bear-skin, 132
McKenney, Thomas L., 158

INDEX

Measles, 97
Measurements, 116, 117
linear, 91, 103, 104
Meat, 39, 144, 148, 171
broth, 29
dried, 8, 52, 55, 80, 148, 149, 168
preparation of, 148
smoked, 149
Medals, 82
copper, 70
silver, 82
Medicinal knowledge, 91, 92
“Medicine,” 75, 120, 160
bad, 9, 71, 72, 74, 75, 121
good, 9
receiving of, 41
“Medicine bag,” 42, 45, 65, 68, 69
“Medicine bundle,” 45, 65, 167
See also “Medicine bag.”

Medicine men, 3, 9, 12, 18, 60, 63, 69, 71,
72, 78, 74, 15, 76, 77, 78, 88, 89, 95,
121, 188, 159, 160, 161, 164, 169

Medicine women, 13, 42, 71, 75, 160

Men, marriageable age of, 156, 172

ornaments worn by, 20
tasks of, 115, 116, 120, 138, 170
Menomonie, 1
Menstruation, decoctions for, 92
first, 35, 48, 48, 50, 167
missed, 4, 5, 57
taboos regarding, 51, 52, 87, 167

Mental training, 102-109, 169, 170

Mermaids, water spirits, 73

Michelson, Dr. Truman, xt, 1

Micmac, 1

Midé’, see Midé’wiwin.

Midé’wiwin (native religious society),

XI, 2, 3, 9, 22, 32, 42, 44, 47, 60, 63-71,
738, 77, 78, 80, 108, 1389, 140, 151, 153,
156, 166, 167, 168

celebration, decorations for, 68
invitation to, 67
cemetery, 83
degrees listed, 65
drum, 70, 78
construction of, 69, 88
feast, 149
initiation into, 63, 64, 168, 169
lodge, 138
construction of, 66
members of, 42, 71, 78, 86, 160
offerings, 68

Midwives, duties of, 12-13, 163, 164

Milk secretion, method of increasing, 29

Milkweed (Asclepias syriaca L.), 1738

shoots, eaten, 146

Mille Lacs Lake, 85

Mille Lacs Reservation, Minnesota, Ix,
Xi XE XU o,G, .22,) 24.) 20 eon kemees
86, 39, 40, 48, 49, 54, 55, 59, 62, 64, 65,
66, 68, 70, 75, 77, 81, 83, 84, 85, 86, 101,
116, 120, 1387, 188, 189, 155, 163

Mille Lacs Trading Post, Minnesota, 116,
139

INDEX

Mink degree, 68
Mink hide, uses of, 65
Minnesota River, 2
Mirrors, 82
Mishiman and wife, informants, x1
Mississippi Band, 151, 152, 171
Mississippi River, 2
Mnemonic records, 108
Moceasins, 26, 78,-86, 104, 118, 128, 130,
1383, 149, 165
beliefs regarding, 26, 165
pattern of, 104 ;
“Moccasins,” used in games, 111, 112
Modjigékwe’, female god, 106
Money bags, skin, 130
Moon, beliefs about, 107
eclipse of, 107
list of monthly names for, 103
used as time count, 4, 5, 102
weather predictions by the, 106
Moose, 28, 48, 120, 122, 171
bone, use of, 117, 128, 132
hide, tanning of, 132
use of, 119, 128, 129, 130, 141,
171
meat, 148
sinew, use of, 118
Moral training, 97-101, 169
Morning-at-dawn, informant, 37, 166
Mortar and pestle, wooden, 63, 145
Mortars, 145
Mosquito netting, 50
Moss, 122
used for diapers, 15, 21, 25, 164
Mothers, 48, 50, 52, 58, 54, 57, 100
expectant, 8-9
imitation of by girls, 56
instruction of girls by, 57
method of increasing milk secre-
tion, 29
purification of, 19
taboos for expectant, 8-9, 15
unmarried, 33, 53
willing of children by, 34
Mountain, Eva, informant, x1It
Mourning, bundle, 86
customs, 79, 86, 87, 169
period, 86
Muck, dye from, 136, 137
Murder, revenge for, 101
Murray Beach, Minnesota, 49
Muskrat hides, use of, 29
Mutilation, mourning custom, 79
punishment for infidelity, 162, 172
Myths, 114, 152

Names, American, 35, 37
dream, 32, 35, 36, 39, 166
origin of, 35-37
personal, 4, 31, 35-39, 55, 87, 166
pet, 35, 166
Namesake, 55
selection of, 37, 38, 39
Naming, 31, 32, 35, 38, 39
Natick, 1

199

Natural, phenomena, interpretations of,
102, 106, 107
Navel cord, 6, 9, 16-17, 164
bag, 16, 17, 23, 104, 109, 164
belief regarding, 7, 164
disposal of, 16, 164
Naytahwahcinegoke, informant, xIIIr
Needles, tatooing, 94
Nelles, Father Felix, Benedictine priest,
XI
Nepeta cataria L., 18, 31, 92, 173
“Nests,” sleeping, 42, 49
Net makers, 125, 126
Nets, 55
drying methods, 127, 128
factory-made, 126
fish, 75, 125, 126, 127, 129, 135, 170
setting of, 129
use as charms, 23
Nett Lake Reservation, Minnesota, x,
Xi, xir, 6, 16; 17, 20, 21, 22, 23, 27,.32,
64, 67, 68, 75, 120, 141, 155, 162, 163,
164, 165, 166
Nettle (Urtica gracilis Ait.), 173
twine of, uses, 118, 119, 125, 170
New Post Village, Wisconsin, 70, 119,
120, 151, 160
Niagara River, 2
Nicknames, 35, 36
Ninniwas (Chippewa), 2
Noonday, Mrs. John, pitorein xIII
North Star, 102
directions reckoned by, 105°
Northern Lights, interpretations of, 106
Nose, piercing of, 20
rings for, 20, 164
Nursing and weaning, 165

Oak, 16, 119, 148
red, 145
white, 42, 145
Oak (Quercus bicolor Willd.) , 173
Oak (Quercus stellata Wang.), 173
Objibway, see Ojibways.
Odanah, Wisconsin, 79, 95, 151
Odawa’, 85
Odjibwag (Chippewa), 2
Offerings, sacrificial, 67
Oil, used in lamps, 1438
Oilcloth, 82
Ojibwa (Chippewa), 108, 154, 155, 156,
163, 172
Ojibwa- speaking people, 76
Ojibways (Chippewa), 1, 2, 23, 34, 36,
87, 41, 45, 46, 49, 71, 113
Older people, respect shown to, 97, 98
treatment of, 98
Old Indian Village, Wisconsin, 46, 70
Old Post Village, 70, 85, 86
O’Leary, Mary, informant, xi
Olson, Nellie, informant, xtit
Omagan’dip, Chippewa chief, 152
Omens, 36, 40, 41, 71, 72, 80, 97, 106, 121,
170
One-that-can-climb, informant, 37, 166
One-that-can-walk, informant, 37, 166
Onion (Allium cepa L.), 144, 173

200

Ottawa, 1, 36, 45
Otter skin, uses of, 65, 69.
Owl, 58, 121, 170

skin, uses of, 65

stories about, 58, 121
Owl degree, 68
“Owl root,” dye from, 136
Ownership, 81, 82, 121, 125, 147

Paddles, 148
construction of, 117
Pails, 82, 128, 131, 132
tin water, 68
Paint, blue, 68
brown, 68
red, 68
use on the dead, 78
vermilion, 68
white, 68
yellow, 68
Pappin, Charles and wife, informants,
XIV
Paquawang, on Chippewa River, 151
Parental factors, prenatal, 2—4
Parents, 90
instructors of children, 57, 58, 59,
99, 168 :
Parry Island, rx, 155
Parry Islanders, 49, 141
Patrilineal sibs, 154
Peas (Pisum sativum L.), 144, 173
Pembina Band, Chinnewa Indians, 150
Pembina Reservation, Canada, 159, 160
Peoria, 1
Pequaming, 73
Perch, 126, 129
Perrot, Nicolas, 1
Personal belongings, disposal of after
death, 81, 82
Pestles, 145
Pete, Mrs. Howard, informant, XIII
Pete, Mrs. Joe, informant, xl
Peterson, Grandma, informant, xt
Peter Wolf, Chippewa chief, 151
Phaseolus vulgaris L., 144, nkegalee ake)
Phegopteris heragonoptera Michx., 173
Physician, American, 88
Picea rubra (DuRoi) Dietrs, 173
Pickerel, 129
Pictographs, songs recorded in, 67
Pictography, 107, 108, 170
Pierz, Father Franz, 19, 36, 156, 157
Pigeons, as food, 149
Pike, 126, 129
smoked, 148
Pillagers, Chippewa Band, 153
Pillow cases, 91
Pine, 91
Pine cones, used in tanning, 132
Pine, Jack (Pinus banksiana Lamb.),
32, 148, 173
Pine knots, medicinal use of, 92, 93
Pine, Norway or red (Pinus resinosa
Ait.) 122, 127,132,138, 139, 140, 165,
173
Pine punk, used in tanning, 132

INDEX

Pine, white (Pinus strobus L.), 86, 122,
132178
Pine wood, decayed, use of, 25
Pins, safety, 24
Pinus banksiana Lamb., 132, 148, 173
Pinus resinosa Ait., 122, 127, 132,. 138,
139, 140, 165, 173
Pinus strobus L., 86, 122, 132, 173
Pipes, 19, 45, 47, 63, 67, 76, 82, 90, 112,
115
red clay, 68
Pisum sativum W., 144,173
Pits, storage, 149
Placenta, 9, 15, 18
disposal of, 18, 164
Plains Indians, 59
Plank, use in burial custom, 80
Plants, medicinal, 31
Platform beds, 139
Play life, 55, 109-111, 170
Pleurisy, 91
Poisoned arrows, making of, 119
Polyandry, 161, 172
Polygamy, 161, 172
Polygyny, 161, 172
Ponemah, Minnesota, 34, 43, 46, 57, 65
Ponies, 77, 113
Ponsford, Minnesota, x1, 64, 139, 140
Ponsford celebration, 32, 64, 65
Poplar bark, dye from, 137
Population, 2
Populus grandidentata Michs., 178
Poreupines, 48, 149
quills, used for decoration, 133, 136,
149
taboos regarding, 7
Portage Lake, 45
Portaging, methods of, 116
Postnatal interests, 20-35, 164, 165
Potato (Solanum tuberosum L.), 173
Potato, wild (Glycine apios L.), 173
Potatoes, 29, 54, 144, 149, 150
medicinal use of, 93
sturgeon, 92
Potawatomi, 1
Potions, use in childbirth, 18
“Power,” exercise of, 69
“Power,” 71
See also “Grand Medicine.”
Pow-wows, Indian meetings, 133, 141
Pregnancy, 5, 6-9, 15, 28, 30, 57, 163, 165
effect on youngest child, 6
taboos connected with, 6, 7
Prenatal period, 2-20, 163
Prepuberty fasts, 39-44, 166, 167
Preventive measures against disease,
96, 97
Prunus virginiana L., 29, 135, 145, 148,
13
Puberty customs, tx, 443, 49-55, 167, 168
Pumpkin blossoms, soup of, 146
Pumpkins (Cucurbita pepo L.), 144, 171,
173
dried, 144
Punishments of children, 58, 59
Punk, use in making fire, 142, 171

INDEX

Purgatives, use of, 31, 165
Purification, mother’s 18, 164

Quadruplets, 31, 165

Quagon, Mitchell, informant, x11
Quarreling, 99, 100, 169

Quercus bicolor Willd., 173
Quercus stellata Wang., 173
Quillwork, 133, 186

Quilts, 86, 91, 159

Rabbit meat, eaten, 149
used for bait, 125
Rabbits, 26, 28, 120, 121, 124, 170
taboos regarding, 7
Rabbit, Sadie, informant, x1
Rabbit’s Bay, 76
Rabbitskin blankets, construction of, 26
Rabbitskins, predicitions regarding, 106
tanning process, 133
use of, 21, 25, 26, 129, 133, 164, 165,
ileal
Raccoons, 61
Racks, cooking, 142, 148, 148
drying, 148
Radishes (Raphanus sativus L.), 144,
Uris
Rainbow, interpretation of, 106
Rainy Lake, Ojibway, 28, 71
Raphanus sativus L., 144, 1738
Raspberries, 58, 146
eanned, 150
roots, decoction of, 29
taboos regarding, 7
Raspberry, black (Rubus occidentalis
VE) 5 783
Raspberry (Rubus idaeus L.), 173
Rattlesnake poison, use of, 119
Raymbault, Father Charles, 1
Reagan, Albert B., 90, 107, 110, 113
Receptacles, leakable, 134, 171
unleakable, 134, 171
Redecliff Band, 151
Red Cliff Reservation, Wisconsin, 30,
151
Red Lake Fishers’ Association, coopera-
tive, 129
Red Lake, Minnesota, 48, 46, 72, 73, 82,
93, 127, 129, 160, 162
Red Lake Reservation, Minnesota, Ix,
Mk Mo, O. LGN eros JOM 29)
30, 32, 34, 36, 40, 42, 47, 48, 51, 53, 54,
5, OL, 62) 6d) 12) 35 0D. C tS, Co!
80, 82, 83, 85, 88, 89, 91, 93,94, 96, 101,
102, 104, 108; 109, 111, 114, 116, 118,
A201 1: 123; D256" A 2Ou yeh S oF
134, 135, 139, 141, 142, 147, 148, 149,
150, 154, 155, 156, 157, 158, 159, 161,
1638, 164
Red River, 156
Redby, Minnesota, 46, 72, 82
Reeds, dying of, 137
Reincarnation, beliefs on, 4, 163
Religion and supernatural powers, 60-
78, 168

201

Reserve, Wisconsin, 34, 62, 70, 101, 151,
160
Resin, uses of, 122, 135
Revenge, 101
Rheumatism, treatment for, 93, 96
Rhus toricodendron L., 97, 173
Rhus typhina L., 136, 137, 173
Ribes floridum L'Her., 91, 173
Ribes oxyacanthoides L., 150, 173
Rice, wild (Zizania aquatica L.), 8, 24,
28; 29, 38;)39)/51;-52, 67, 68) 80; Si, 84,
87, 109, 184, 188, 140, 144, 145, 146,
147, 148, 149, 150, 165, 171, 173
dried, 148
gathering, 12, 56, 89, 109, 115, 117,
147, 148, 168, 170
parched, 148
porridge, fed to babies, 165
taboos regarding,
Rites, puberty, 50-55
Robe, braided rabbitskin, 133
tobin, guardian spirit, 45, 46
Robin’s song, meaning of, 97
Robinson, Mary, informant, x11
Roeder, Sister Immaecula, x11
Roots, medicinal, 31, 88, 90, 92, 169
Rosa pratincola Greene, 92, 149, 173
Riose, wild (Rosa pratincola Greene),
92, 149, 173
Round Lake group, 70
Round-old-woman, informant, 37, 166
Rowing, 115 :
Rubus cubatus Focke, 7, 173
Rubus idaeus L., 173
Rubus occidentalis L., 173
Rugs, braided, 24
Rutabaga (Brassica campestris L.),
144, 150, 173
Sacks, birchbark, 15
Sacrifices, food, 8
St. Antheny Falls, 1
St. Claire, Carrie, informant, x11
St. Germaine, Mrs. informant, xIv
St. John’s Abbey, Minnesota, x1
Salt, 59, 123, 133
Salt licks, artificial, 123, 170
Sambucus canadensis L., 96, 118, 173
Sandpaper, use of, 119, 127
Sandy Lake, 85
Sanguinaria canadensis L., 136, 137, 173
Sarsaparilla (Aralia nudicaulis L.), 173
roots, 94
Sauk, 1
Saulteaux (Chippewa), 2, 4, 31, 71, 76,
80, 84
Saulteur (Chippewa), 2
Sault Ste. Marie, Michigan, 151
Sayers, Frances, interpreter, Xf KITE
Scarlet fever, 97
Scirpus validus Vahl., 173
Scissors, 14, 16
Scott, Frank, informant, xty
Scouts, 108
Scrapers, steel, 131
stone, 119

202

Scratching stick, 51, 53, 167
Sea gull eggs, taboos regarding, 6, 7
Seasons, names for, 103.
Servants, 33, 166
Setter, Frank, informant, xm
Sewing, 52, 161, 167
Sex, 5, 163
prediction of, 5, 163
preference regarding, 6, 163
Shamans, 13, 60, 75
powers of, 87, 88-90, 169
Sharing, teaching of, 98, 129, 169
Sharlifoe, Mrs. Peter, informant, x1v
Shawls, 25, 77, 160
Shawnee, 1
Shells, use ag toys, 23
Shirts, buckskin, 118
Shoes, 78
Shogey, Mrs. John, informant, x11
Shogytown, 48
Shosa, Lucy, informant, xtv
Shuttles, 126
basswood, 126
Siace, Gabriel, informant, xu
Siblings, 32, 35
Sibs, patrilineal, 154
Sickness, 67, 71, 76, 77, 88-96, 151
preventive measures, 23, 96-97
Sign language, 107, 108
Sinew, preparation of, 118, 119
use of, 128
Sinkers, 127, 135
lead, 126
Stone, 126
Singing, 67
Sioux, 2, 34, 45, 48, 49, 58, 70, 101, 103,
108, 141, 162
Sisters, 38, 34, 55
Skeleton animal heads, used as toys, 110
Skin eruptions, treatment for, 92
Skinner, Alanson, 147
Skulls, animal, 121
Skunks, as food, 149
musk from, 97, 124
Slaves, 33, 166
Slips, deer-hide, 26, 165
Slippery elm, see Elm, Slippery.
Smallpox, 54, 93, 140
epidemics, 98, 151
Smilacina stellata L., 173
Stillbirths, 169
Smith, Huron Herbert, 90, 125, 137
Smoke signals, 105
Smoking, 67, 90, 109, 115, 121, 124
done by children, 115
Smudge pot, used in tanning, 131, 132
Snake root (Aristolochia serpentaria
L.), 173
Snake skin, uses of, 65
“Snapping eyes,” reproachful gesture,
100

Snares, 122, 124, 170
Snow, spirits of, 60

INDEX

Snowshoes, 116, 117, 118, 124, 130, 149,
, 170
construction of, 118
Snuff, use of, 115
Snuffing, diversion, 109
Soap, use of, 133
Social restraints, girls, 53, 54, 168
Social Science Research Council, xiv
Soda, use in tanning, 132, 133
Solanum tuberosum L., 173
Solomon’s-seal, false (Smilacina stel-
lata L.), 92, 173
Songs, 91
Songs, Midé’wiwin, 67, 88
Sorcery, 81
Sore throat, treatment for, 92
Soups, 29
Spearhead, copper, 124, 125, 127, 170
Spearing, fish, 124, 170
Spirit, guardian, 44, 60, 61, 63, 167, 168
Spoons, 82, 86
Sprains, treatment for, 95
Sprinkler, 96
Spruce (Picea rubra (DuRoi) Dietr.),
91, 1738
boughs, 18
resin, preparation of, 135
used for canoes, 116, 117
roots, used for canoes, 116, 117
Squash (Oucurbita mazima Duchesne),
144, 171, 173
dried, 144
Squirrel skins, use of, 21, 129, 171
Starvation, 101
Stateler, George, informant, x1r
Stealing, 98, 99, 122
Step-grandmother, 86
Sterility, causes of, 2-3, 163
Stillbirths, delivery of, 12-13, 15, 164
Stirling, Dr. Matthew W., xi
Stones, spirits of, 61, 62
Storage, 144, 149, 150, 171
Storms, spirits of, 60, 61, 62
Story telling, diversion, 109
Strap, carrying, 141, 142
packing, 141, 142
Strawberry, wild (Fragaria virginia
Duchesne), 53, 173
roots, 92
Sturgeon glue, use of, 119
Subchiefs, 150, 171
Subchieftainship, inherited, 151, 171
Suckers, 126, 129
Sucking, curing process, 88
Sugar bush, 138, 140, 146
Suicide, 101
Sumac (Rhus typhina L.), 173
dye from, 136, 137
Summary, 162-172
Sumner, Mary, informant, xt
Sun, directions reckoned by, 105
eclipse of, 107
Sundials, 102
Sundogs, interpretation of, 106

INDEX

203

Supernatural powers, x1, 17, 31, 37, 44| Tobacco—Continued

See also Religion.
Supreme Being, 60
Sweat baths, 88, 96
Sweat lodges, 96
Sweating, medicinal, 88, 96, 169
treatment for, 92
Sweetgrass, 15, 135
Swings, baby, 24, 164

“Tables,” mat, 171
Taboos, conduct, 8-9, 52, 163, 167
food, 6-8, 51, 52, 53, 163, 167
menstruation, 51, 52, 87, 167
mourning, 87
name of deceased, 87
removal of, 52, 53
“Taleum powder,” substitutes for, 25,
164
Talebearing, 99, 169
Tamarack (Larix laricina [DuRoi]
Koch., 173
bark, uses of, 138, 140 :
roots, used in canoe making, 116
Tanner, John, 45
Tanning, 55, 129, 130, 168, 171
method of, 130, 131, 182
Tanning frame, 130, 131
Tar paper, 82, 139
Tattooers, 94
kit of, contents, 94
Tattooing, medicinal, 88, 90, 93-95, 169
method of, 93
Taylor, Mrs. Otis, informant, xt
Tea, 56, 91
offering of, 97
See also Decoctions.
Teakettle, 79
Teeth, 4, 27, 28, 163, 165
Thayer, Frank, informant, xIiI
Thayer, John, informant, XIV
Thunderbird, supernatural, 40, 44, 45,
46, 106
Thunder, John Baptiste, informant, x1
Thunder, supernatural being, 47, 60, 61,
62
Tilia americana L., 173
Time, measuring, 4, 5, 102, 103
Tin, 82
Tipi, 76, 77, 128, 137, 139, 141, 171
canvas-covered, 128, 141
construction of, 141
“Tipi shaker,” 88
“Tipi shaking,” 75-78
Toads, beliefs regarding, 57
Tobacco, 38, 39, 46, 57, 67, 72, 73, 91,
112
buried with the dead, 78
ceremonial offering of, 62, 63, 66,
168
chewing, 38, 90, 115
medicinal use of, 93, 95
offerings of, 61, 62, 70, 72, 76, 77,
90, 91, 92, 97, 124, 146, 168

smoking of, 62, 63, 76
substitute for, 63
use by children, 115
Tobacco pouches, 180
Toboggans, use of, 117, 118, 170
Tomahawks, 82
Tomato (Lycopersicum
Mill.), 173
Tomkins, William, 107
Tool kits, leather, 130
Tools, 1380
Tomatoes, 144
Torches, 122, 123, 127, 148, 171
Torchlight, lure for fish, 127
Totems, family symbols, 153
Toys, baby’s,
carved wood, 58
children’s, 109
Trail marking, ‘methods, 105
Training, religious and supernatural,
168, 169
Trapping, 12,124. ,
Traps, 124, 125, 1385, 170
steel, 112
Traveling, 105, 170
Trays, birchbark, 24, 134
winnowing, 148
Treaties, United States Government, 2,
151
Trees, spirits of, 60
Tree toads, 106
Tribes, 1, 2, 33, 36, 45, 114
Triplets, 30
Tripods, use of, 135, 142, 148 ©
Trophies, buried with the dead, 78
Trout, lake, 127
Trout skulls, used "as charms, 121
Tsuga canadensis [L.], Carr., 173
Tuberculosis, 140
treatment for, 91, 92, 93
Tubes, hollow bone, 88
Tubs, wash, 140 ~~
Tarnip, Indian (Arisaema triphyllum
[L.] Schott), 145, 173
Turtle Mountains, 2
Turtles, bones, use as toys, 23
eaten by men only, 149
eggs, eaten, 149
taboos regarding, 7
spirits of, 61
taboos regarding, 6, 7
Twine, quilling, used for nets, 126
Twins, beliefs regarding, 4, 20, 30, 165
predicted, 6, 30
names for, 35
Twobirds, Mary, informant, xIv
Typha latifolia L., 173
Tyrell, J. B., 147

esculentum

Uchipgouin (Chippewa), 2

Ulmus americana L., 173

Ulmus fulva Michx., 15, 16, 91, 173
Umbilical cord, beliefs regarding, 7, 9
Uncle, 69

204

United States Bureau of Indian Affairs,

X, xi, 33, 34, 70, 98, 144, 152

United States House Executive Docu-

ments, 153
United States Indian Agency, 35
United States Indian Service, 144, 151
Urtica gracilis Ait., 173
Utensils, buried with dead,
cooking, 128

80, 85

Vaccinium vacillans Kalm., 173
Vanoss, Andrew, informant, xIII
Vases, 83
Vashow, Mrs. Ed., informant, XIV
Vegetables, 146 ;

dried, 149 Shi

garden, 87, 171
venison, 8, 29, 38, 87,14, Aas
Vermilion Lake Reservatio Minnesota,
xX, XM, XIE 16, 176/22: 24;'25,,26/,27,
30, 32, 38, 53, 59,60, 69, Ds 82, 97, 106,
aaah ae 113, 116,, 117, 120; :121,2238,
134, 146, 162, 168 16 165

Visiting, form : ort iy Hay 114, 115,
170

Vocational training and domesti¢ econ-
omy, 115-153, 170-172

Wallis, Dr. Wilson D., xix
War dance, 70
Warren, William, 63, 101, 115,'146, 150,
151, 153, 154, 162
Waterbuckets, bireh
Water gods, 43, 62,
Watersmeet; GAS
Watrin, Benno; B
101 Wes
Waukon, 62%: {5 >
Weaning, 29; 165,
Weasel degree, 68
Weasel grave marker, 83
Weasels, 124
skin, use of, DA 3, 65, 6S, 69, 165
Weather predictions: 106
Weaving, blanket, 26, 27
mat, 136
Weeping, restraint of, 79
Wein, Sarah, informant, x11r
Weinzierl, Mrs. Emily, xi
Whip, 113
Whipping, rare, 99
White Earth Bape veter Minnesota, 1x,
Xi) MNS ads 21, 24, 32, 86, 64, 65,
66, 67, 68, 69, Ae %7, 85, 96, 101, 110,
114, 115, 122, 139, 140, 146, 148, 163,
164, 166
Whitefish, 8, 50, 75, 101, 128, 129
oil, used in lamps, 143
smoked, 148
Whitefish people, 70
White, Joe, subchief, 151
Widowers, restrictions of, 162

“Wilson, Mr.
is ‘Wilson, Mrs.,
¥ ‘Winchell, N. a) 158

INDEX

Widowhood, release from, 161, 162
Widows, regulations for, 161, 162, 172
Wife, 83

Wigwam, 50, 56, 58, 76, 77, 78, 128, 137,

138, 139, 142, 143, 146, 147, 149, 158,

159, 168,171, 172
birchbark, 128, 138, 140, 171
ceremonial, 66, 67, 69
_eireular, 138, 171.
construction of, i187; 138, 139
divination, 75, 76, 17
dome-shaped, 75, 88, 96
elongated, 139, 171
family,.19, 26, 50, 52, 54, 56, 128,
138, 161, 163; 172
menstrual, 50, 52, 53, 54, 129, 167
Midé’ wiwin, 66, 67, .84, 188
Shaman’s, 76, 77
sweating, 96
temporary, for. use at birth, 12, 163
Wilcox, Roy P:, x1r
““Will-o’-the-wisp,” magic use of, 71
Williams, Mr. and Mrs, Pat, informants,
XIV
“Willow, red” (Cornus stolonifera), 63
See also Dogwood, red.
Willow switch, 112
, informant, STIL
informant, XIII

Winde’ 20, mythical being, 114
Winds, spirits of, 60, 61
Winnebago, 33, 77, 113, 114
Wintergreen ( Gauitheria procumbens
Le) 173
tea from, 146
Wives, multiple, 161
Wolf, 101, 149 .
Wolf, Angeline, informant, xiII
Wolf clan, 155
Wolf, guardian spirit, 45, 46
Wolf, Mike, Chippewa chief, 151
Wolf, Peter, Chippewa chief, 151
Wolves, 124, 170
Women chiefs, 153, 172
Women, ornaments worn by, 205 21
pregnant, 28, 165
punishment of, 162
tasks of, 52, 55, 115, 116, 129, 130,
137, 138; 141, 147, 156, 170, 171
work during pregnancy, 9, 164
Wood carriers, leather, 130, 140, 141,171
Woodchuck, taboos regarding, fé
Wood, fuel, 141, 142, 171
Work, 109, 116, 120, 168, 170
caught by parents, 56, 57
Writing, picture, 108

Yellow River, Wisconsin, 149

Zea mays V.., 144, 145, 149, 150, 171, 173
Zizania aquatica L., 173

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