  The Huron tribe were a rather typical tribe of the Eastern woodlands. They were a hunting and fishing tribe, and when their villages were built they were built to last for a long time. In this particular village of the Hurons, there lived a young boy by the name of Singing Eagle. Now as was the custom among most of the tribes of that area, a young Indian child did not own any clothes at all until he reached the age of ten. This particular day was to be a great one for Singing Eagle, but when he woke that late summer morning, it was just another day for him. After eating his breakfast, he dashed away to play with the other children. Meanwhile back at the wigwam, Singing Eagle’s mother, Early Dawn, was very busy indeed. For many days and nights she had been working quite hard making Singing Eagle his first real set of clothing. Singing Eagle’s father had hunted the big brown buck early last spring and his long chase had finally been rewarded, when he was able to shoot and kill a very fine large buck. Carefully skinning the buck, he had returned both the skin and the meat to his wigwam, where his wife immediately set to work tanning the skin in preparation for making it into a winter outfit for young Singing Eagle. When the skin had been carefully tanned, Singing Eagle’s mother had fashioned from it a pair of leggings. The leggings of the woodland Indian were made in matched pairs. They covered the whole leg and fitted rather snugly and were held up with a thong fastened to the waistbelt. The buckskin was sewn together with threads of sinew. The shirt, which Singing Eagle’s mother was so proud of, had long sleeves and would reach to Singing Eagle’s knees, but above all the shirt was beautifully decorated with painted pictures. When Singing Eagle grew up, the paintings would be upon his future shirts and beadwork would also be added. The shirt was of buckskin. Finally Singing Eagle’s mother proudly held up, for her husband to see, the beautiful moccasins. The moccasins of the woodland Indian were fashioned from one piece of skin and were soft-soled and often these too were decorated with beadwork. Here Singing Eagle’s mother had decided not to wait until her son grew any more, but had put a beautiful beaded design on the toe of each moccasin. This was to be a truly wonderful day. After lunch, Singing Eagle lay down to rest, for he had been playing very hard that morning with the other children. When he awoke, he looked around and his eyes fairly jumped from his head. There at the foot of his bed was his first suit of clothing. Quickly he grasped them to him and hugged them, feeling how soft and pliable they were, following the many days of work. Quickly he slipped into the clothes and when he was completely dressed, ran from the wigwam to find his father and show him his beautiful clothes. Soon he found his father at the edge of the village talking with two other braves of the tribe. All excited, he pulled at his father’s sleeve until his father turned and noticing the clothes, quickly changed his expression from anger to one of surprise. “How handsome you look, my son. Your mother has done a fine job on your clothes. I wish that my shirts were as beautiful as the one you now wear upon your back. You look very much like a man now, my son.” Singing Eagle was very proud that his father had noticed his clothes and given him such fine compliments. But time was wasting. As was customary when a young Indian boy received his first full set of clothing to wear, the rest of the day was spent in showing off his new clothes to his many friends. And so that day, in a matter of a couple of hours, the whole Huron village knew that Singing Eagle had his first real Indian suit, made from a fine buck that his father had shot just for him. |
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