From the birch and ash was made a dark-colored sugar,with a somewhat bitter taste,which was used for medicinal purposes.The box-elder yielded a beautiful white sugar,whose only fault was that there was never enough of it!
A long fire was now made in the sugar house,and a row of brass kettles suspended over the blaze.The sap was collected by the women in tin or birchen buckets and poured into the canoes,from which the kettles were kept filled.The hearts of the boys beat high with pleasant antici-pations when they heard the welcome hissing sound of the boiling sap!Each boy claimed one kettle for his especial charge.It was his duty to see that the fire was kept up under it,to watch lest it boil over,and finally,when the sap became sirup,to test it upon the snow,dipping it out with a wooden paddle.So frequent were these tests that for the first day or two we consumed nearly all that could be made;and it was not until the sweetness began to pall that my grandmother set herself in earnest to store up sugar for future use.
She made it into cakes of various forms,in birch-en molds,and sometimes in hollow canes or reeds,and the bills of ducks and geese.Some of it was pulverized and packed in rawhide cases.Being a prudent woman,she did not give it to us after the first month or so,except upon special occa-sions,and it was thus made to last almost the year around.The smaller candies were reserved as an occasional treat for the little fellows,and the sugar was eaten at feasts with wild rice or parched corn,and also with pounded dried meat.Coffee and tea,with their substitutes,were all unknown to us in those days.
Every pursuit has its trials and anxieties.My grandmother's special tribulations,during the sugaring season,were the upsetting and gnawing of holes in her birch-bark pans.The transgres-sors were the rabbit and squirrel tribes,and we little boys for once became useful,in shooting them with our bows and arrows.We hunted all over the sugar camp,until the little creatures were fairly driven out of the neighborhood.Oc-casionally one of my older brothers brought home a rabbit or two,and then we had a feast.
The sugaring season extended well into April,and the returning birds made the precincts of our camp joyful with their songs.I often followed my older brothers into the woods,although I was then but four or five years old.Upon one of these excursions they went so far that I ventured back alone.When within sight of our hut,I saw a chipmunk sitting upon a log,and uttering the sound he makes when he calls to his mate.How glorious it would be,I thought,if I could shoot him with my tiny bow and arrows!Stealthily and cautiously I approached,keeping my eyes upon the pretty little animal,and just as I was about to let fly my shaft,I heard a hissing noise at my feet.There lay a horrid snake,coiled and ready to spring!Forgetful that I was a warrior,I gave a loud scream and started backward;but soon recollecting myself,looked down with shame,although no one was near.However,I retreated to the inclined trunk of a fallen tree,and there,as I have often been told,was overheard soliloquiz-ing in the following words:"I wonder if a snake can climb a tree!"I remember on this occasion of our last sugar bush in Minnesota,that I stood one day outside of our hut and watched the approach of a visitor --a bent old man,his hair almost white,and carrying on his back a large bundle of red willow,or kinnikinick,which the Indians use for smoking.
He threw down his load at the door and thus saluted us:"You have indeed perfect weather for sugar-making."It was my great-grandfather,Cloud Man,whose original village was on the shores of Lakes Calhoun and Harriet,now in the suburbs of the city of Minneapolis.He was the first Sioux chief to welcome the Protestant missionaries among his people,and a well-known character in those pio-neer days.He brought us word that some of the peaceful sugar-makers near us on the river had been attacked and murdered by roving Ojib-ways.This news disturbed us not a little,for we realized that we too might become the victims of an Ojibway war party.Therefore we all felt some uneasiness from this time until we returned heavy laden to our village.
V:A Midsummer Feast IT was midsummer.Everything that the Santee Sioux had under-taken during the year had been unusually successful.The spring fur-hunters had been fortunate,and the heavy winter had proved productive of much maple sugar.The women's patches of maize and potatoes were already suffic-iently advanced to use.The Wahpetonwan band of Sioux,the "Dwellers among the Leaves,"were fully awakened to the fact that it was almost time for the midsummer festivities of the old,wild days.
The invitations were bundles of tobacco,and acceptances were sent back from the various bands --the "Light Lodges","Dwellers back from the River,"and many others,in similar fashion.
Blue Earth,chief of the "Dwellers among the Leaves,"was the host.
There were to be many different kinds of ath-letic games;indeed,the festival was something like a State fair,in that there were many side shows and competitive events.For instance,sup-posing that (Miss)White Rabbit should desire to give a "maidens'feast,"she would employ a crier to go among the different bands announcing the fact in a sing-song manner:
"Miss White Rabbit will receive her maiden friends to-day at noon,inside of the circular en-campment of the Kaposia band."
Again,should (Mr.)Sleepy Eye wish to have his child's ears pierced publicly,he would have to give away a great deal of savage wealth--namely,otter,bear and beaver skins and ponies--or the child would not be considered as belonging to a family in good standing.
But the one all-important event of the occasion was the lacrosse game,for which it had been cus-tomary to select those two bands which could boast the greater number of fast runners.
