KADiN] THE PEYOTE CULT 391 



that I may not say and do evil things. To you, O God, I am trying to 

 pray. Do thou, O Son of God, help me, too. This religion, let me 

 know. Help me, O medicine, grandfather, help me! Let me know 

 this religion !" Thus I spoke and sat very quiet. And then I beheld 

 the morning star and it was good to look upon. The light was good 

 to look upon. I had been frightened during the night but now I was 

 happy. Now as the light appeared, it seemed to me that nothing 

 would be invisible to me. I seemed to see everything clearly. Tlicn 

 I thought of my home and as I looked around, there I saw the house 

 in which I lived far away among the Winnebago, quite close to me. 

 Tliere at the window I saw my children playing. Then I saw a man 

 going to my house carrying a jug of whisky. Then he gave them 

 something to drink and the one that had brought the whisky got 

 drunk and bothered my people. Finalty he ran away. "So, that is 

 what they are doing," I thought to myself. Then I beheld my wife 

 come and stand outside of the door, wearing a red blanket. She was 

 thinking of going to the flagpole and was wondering which road she 

 should take. " If I take this road I am likely to meet some people, 

 but if I take the other road, I am not likel}- to meet anyone." 



Indeed, it is good. They are all well — my brother, my sister, my 

 father, my mother. I felt very good indeed. O medicine, grand- 

 father, most assuredly you are holy ! All that is connected with you, 

 that I would like to know and that I would like to understand. 

 Help me! I give myself up to you entirely! 



For three days and three nights I had been eating medicine, and 

 for three days and three nights I had not slept. Throughout all the 

 years that I had lived on earth, I now realized that I had never known 

 anything holy. Now, for the first time, I knew it. Would that some 

 of the Winnebagoes might also know it! 



Many years ago I had been sick and it looked as if this illness 

 were going to kill me. I tried all the Indian doctors and then I 

 tried all of the white man's medicines, but they were of no avail. 

 "I am doomed. I wonder whether I will be alive next year." Such 

 were the thoughts that came to me. As soon as I ate t]ie peyote, 

 however, I got over my sickness. After that I was not sick again. 

 My wife had suffered from the same disease, and I told her that if 

 she ate this medicine it would surely cure her. But she was afraid, 

 although she had never seen it before. She knew that I used it, 

 but nevertheless she was afraid of it. Her sickness was getting 

 worse and worse and one day I said to- her, " You are sick. It is 

 going to be very difficult, but try tliis medicine anyhow. It will 

 ease you." Finally she ate it. I had told her to eat it and then to 

 wash herself and comb her hair and she would get well, and now 

 she is well. Then I painted her face and took my gourd and began 

 singing very much. Then I stopped. "Indeed, you are right," 



