men
Had spoken thanksgivings for fat harvest,
And the time was come for all the tribe to rejoice,
First came the dance of the little stumbling children;
The little fat bellied round faced serious children,
With shining black hair and wonder eyes,
And flower red cheeks and mouths,
And stout breath like short gusts of North Wind.

When, worn out with swift dances,
They rolled in their soft blankets,
Came the shy youths' dance,
And the uncertain growing maidens'
All bravely tinkling little necklaces
Of squirrel and rabbit teeth, and bright rare shells.

Then danced the carefully trained young women,
Grown and ripe for the Harvest of love.
In their lead I did as my Mother had told me.

Straight I stood before the Great Sachem
And the son of the pride of his heart.
High I lifted my head like a proud pine tree,
And softly I shook my bracelets of beads
And rattled my necklace of blue shell,
And rustled the porcupine fringes
Of my fine robe of yellow,
In music like the little secret whispering
Among the dry grass under passing feet.

I spoke as I had always been taught by my Mother:
"Great Chief, grant that I dance before thee
The Woman's Love Dance of the brave Mandanas,
A dance that I have learned
From the swift feet of my Mother."

Searchingly, the Great Sachem looked at his son
And his son looked at me with understanding
And made a swift sign to his Father;
So raising his hands of authority,
The Great Sachem cried aloud:
"Yiada, daughter of Chief White Wolf,
Will dance the Woman's Dance of the Mandanas,
Let all others be seated. I have said it!"

Alone, with the blood of heart red on lip and cheek
And with the pride of my asking heart
Beating like wings on my light feet,
With my Mother keeping time for me,
As she did in the secret forest,
Slowly I stepped into the great dance
Of the Mandanas, of the peace lands;
The strongest love medicine
Ever measured by the feet of wild women.

As I danced, even as my Mother had long told me
I kept my eyes ever spying
Deep into the eyes of Mountain Lion.
When the dance grew to its swiftest wildest note,
When my proud head of certainty
And my willing arms were high lifted,
And the beads and obsidian and blue shell
Tinkled soft singing, like falling rain,
Mountain Lion sprang to his feet
And came down in the firelight before me.

With no knowledge of the dance of the Mandanas,
And no teaching of step or of posture,
He fell into the strange measures
That my Mother had taught me;
With eyes upon eyes and heart near to heart,
Facing in the wide fire flaming circle
Where envious faces kept watch upon us,
We danced the wonder dance
Of the hour of full womanhood.

Medicine Man, O Medicine Man,
Healer of the hearts of the Mandanas,
There, facing the chiefs and maidens
Of a thousand lodges of our tribe,
With the Great Sachem keenly watching
On his high throne of great power,
Darest say that was not my hour
My rightful moon of exultation?

When I looked, near the close of the dance,
Toward my Mother for guidance
She gave me the swift happy sign of birds flying;
So I caught that joyful sign
And I gave it to the waiting maidens.
Like homing swallows they swept around me;
The young Braves came stamping,
Like roebucks before the does of Spring,
Then all of us changed the dance
To the love measures of the Canawacs.

When the chattering maidens
Went back to their waiting mothers,
I stood there tall and straight and proud
Fresh as the wing of the eagle,
From the highest peak of dawn
Eye to eye, face to face with Mountain Lion.
His eyes burned deep into my eyes
With a look of quivering power.
Medicine Man, darest thou say
That was not the great understanding?

So when all of the others
Went on with the Dance of Thanksgiving,
Soft as the veiling mists
From the dim breast of evening meadows
I slipped from the Council House
And I flew to our lodge.

With hands of high satisfaction
My Mother set my wigwam beside her lodge.
I lighted my tall happy candle of bear fat;
I opened my doorway wide to the friendly moon;
Deep in the sands I set my love light to burning.
And there I waited—long and long I waited,
In burning eagerness of heart
Tremblingly listening with each breath
For the sure step of Mountain Lion.

Then, Medicine Man,
With black angered sign talk
And fierce eyes of leaping fire,
Came my storm driven Mother.
As she came toward me,
Like a killing wind uprooting the cedars,
Arose high clamour from the Council Lodge.

She caught up my hopeful waiting candle,
My living love token to Mountain Lion, my man,
She buried its flame deep in the white sands,
In rage she thrust it from her,
She snatched shut the welcoming doors
Before the eyes of anguish of my Mother
Of my willing doeskin wigwam,
And in the harsh low voiced Canawac tongue
She cried to me in choking anger:

"Woe is upon us! Strangers have reached us.
Comes a great Chief from tribes of the far North,
From the camps of the powerful Killimacs,
From the home fires of the Ice God;
And with him on a snow white pony
Rides his beautiful raven haired daughter,
A tall proud Princess of a great warlike nation.

"This night Mountain Lion will not come to thee:
His father has sent him to serve the rich strangers.
Get thee back to thy place in the Council Lodge
Before the venom tipped finger pointers miss thee,
For there will be great feasting and much talk,
The rejoicing will last for many suns and moons.
It was the wrong time for thy dance of allurement
Thy maiden proffer of prideful loving,
But I, thy Mother, taught thee thy undoing,
I, thy Mother, gave to thee the sign."

Then, Medicine Man,
As fierce a storm as ever tore the forest,
As ever pitched the sea high in wild fury,
Broke in my heart, leaping to flee its lodging place.
I lifted my head high, and proudly and silently
I stepped into the moon tide,
But I trembled and shook with all-over sickness,
My blood ran hot angry gushes,
And I, who had never known pain
In any part of my strong body,
Now felt its rending arrows
Tearing my heart in sick torture,
As I crept through the restless whispering forest
Where the wise old yellow leaves
Talked over my shame with each other
And every mocking finger of night
Pointed in derision at my wounded side.

I crept back to the Council Lodge
Still as a panther fending for her cubs,
I slipped in unseen by any,
And took up my place among the young women.
On the high throne of power
Beside our Great Sachem, Storm Wind,
Sat a tall Chief trailing rich robes
Of white fox, sealskin, and white bear.
A proud Chief of savage face,
Weighted with a heavy necklace of eagles' claws,
Many elk teeth, and lion talons,
Hanging across his broad shoulders.

Standing still and straight before them,
First, I saw the stranger woman.
I heard the deep voice of her father,
Toned to soft talk, as among peace councils,
When he told the Great