plements or superfluities, answered all necessities. Generally the men gathered the materials while the squaws put them together. When these lodges were numerous they were sometimes arranged as in lanes, and surrounded with palisadoes. On removing from one place to another, if the materials of the lodge were worth the labor, or were not to be readily replaced, the squaws bore the burden of their parts. What they could not carry on their shoulders they attached at the further end of some of the poles, confining the other end to their waists, while they dragged the skins and utensils. Where the Indians now have ponies they use this style of an extemporized barrow.
An indispensable article of the outfit of every male Indian is what is known by the whites as the “medicine-bag.” This cherished possession has an intimate connection with the superstitions of the aborigines, reference to which will soon be made. To the eye of an indifferent observer this “medicine-bag” serves the use of a pocket or a satchel, to receive certain light articles of use and convenience on an emergency. It is much more than that to an Indian. The term “medicine,” as current among the natives through the continent, in its equivalents in all their languages and dialects, carries with it all the associations which the word has for civilized people, and far more mysterious ones beside. The treatment of disease by the conjurers, jongleurs, or “pow-wows” among the natives, as has been before noted, is believed to be more or less of a magical art. So, every process and means connected with it is associated for the Indian with some quality of mystery and charm. “Medicine,” therefore, becomes to them a term mixed with religious, superstitious, and marvellous significance. Every object that startles them by its ingenuity, its show of skill, its wonderful properties, — like a burning-glass, a watch, a clock, a compass, or a bell, as well as any drug, — is to them “medicine.”
The carefully guarded and cherished receptacle, always
