sion there was no power that could
cope with disease. I defended my ideal on the ground that there are
supernatural powers in the herbs themselves; hence those who understand
them have these powers at their command.

"But," insisted my friend, "one must get his knowledge from the Great
Mystery!"

This completely silenced my argument, but did not shake my faith in my
grandmother's ability.

Redhorn was a good boy, and I loved him. I visited him often, and found
him growing weaker day by day.

"Ohiyesa," he said to me one day, "my grandmother has discovered the
cause of my sickness."

I eagerly interrupted him by shouting: "And can she cure you now,
Redhorn?"

"Of course," he replied, "she cannot until I have fulfilled the
commandment. I have confessed to her that two years ago I received my
commission, and I should have made a Bear Dance and proclaimed myself a
medicine man last spring, when I had seen thirteen winters. You see, I
was ashamed to proclaim myself a medicine man, being so young; and for
this I am punished. However, my grandmother says it is not yet too late.
But, Ohiyesa, I am as weak now as a rheumatic old man. I can scarcely
stand up. They say that I can appoint some one else to act for me. He
will be the active bear--I shall have to remain in the hole. Would you,
Ohiyesa, be willing to act the bear for me? You know he has to chase the
dancers away from his den."

"Redhorn," I replied with much embarrassment, "I should be happy to do
anything that I could for you, but I cannot be a bear. I feel that I
am not fit. I am not large enough; I am not strong enough; and I don't
understand the habits of the animal well enough. I do not think you
would be pleased with me as your substitute."

Redhorn finally decided that he would engage a larger boy to perform
for him. A few days later, it was announced by the herald that my friend
would give a Bear Dance, at which he was to be publicly proclaimed a
medicine man. It would be the great event of his short existence, for
the disease had already exhausted his strength and vitality. Of course,
we all understood that there would be an active youth to exhibit the
ferocious nature of the beast after which the dance is named.

The Bear Dance was an entertainment, a religious rite, a method of
treating disease--all in one. A strange thing about it was that no woman
was allowed to participate in the orgies, unless she was herself the
bear.

The den was usually