258 SUPERSTITIONS AND CUSTOMS OF THE 



spoken of by writers of fiction, are an actual reality in the imaginations 

 of Crees and Ojibways, as well as of other north-western tribes. A 

 plain Cree on the Qu'appelle gravely informed one of my men that 

 he had been dead once, and visited the spirit world. His narrative 

 was to the following effect : — " I was sick, and fell asleep. I awoke 

 on the bank of a deep river, whose waters were flowing swiftly and 

 black from a great mist on the south to a great mist on the north. 

 Many other Indians sat on the banks of the river, gazing on its 

 waters, and on the gloomy shore which lay wrapped in mist on the 

 other side. Time after time the mist before us would roll away and 

 reveal the mouth of another great river pouring its flood into the one 

 on whose banks I was sitting. The country to the south of this 

 river was bright and glorious, to the north dark and gloomy. On 

 the one side was the happy hunting grounds, on the other the hunt- 

 ing grounds of the bad Indians. Time after time my companions 

 tried to cross the swift stream before us, in order to reach the happy 

 hunting grounds ; some arrived in safety, others reached the north 

 bank, and disappeared in the mist which overhung the bad country. 

 I tried at last, but the current was too strong for me, the recollection 

 of bad deeds prevented me from stemming the current, and I was swept 

 on to the north shore of the opposite river. I scrambled up the 

 bank, and spent many moons in hunting in that dreary land ; always 

 on the point of starving, or of being hurt by enemies, or wet and 

 cold and miserable. At length I came upon a river like the one I 

 had crossed, with mists and a great stream opposite, breaking clouds 

 revealing happy hunting grounds on one side, and a more gloomy 

 and terrible country on the other side. Other Indians were there 

 before me, looking at the river and trying to cross ; many succeeded, 

 a few were swept to the bad country, these were very wicked Indians. 

 I tried to cross. I knew I had been a good Indian in this dreary 

 hunting ground. I took courage, and swam strong against the 

 stream. I reached the happy hunting grounds ; all my sorrow dis- 

 appeared as I climbed to the top of the bank and saw before me 

 Indians numerous as grass leaves, buflalo on the distant plains thick 

 as rain drops in summer, a cloudless sky above, and a warm, fresh, 

 scented, happy breeze blowing in my face. I sank to sleep, and woke 

 alone in my tent in these prairies again." 



"Whatever faith the Indian medicine men possess in the efficacy of 

 their charms, it is certaia that they entertain great respect for the 



