Vision.

From Lakota witness to the Ghost Dance ...

Before dancing, the ritual participants would enter a sweat lodge for purification. Then the worshippers, painted with sacred red pigment, would adorn themselves in a special costume which was believed to be a gift from the Father. The hallowed clothing was usually made of white cotton muslin cloth embellished with feathers and painted symbols seen in the wearers’ visions, as well as a prominent eagle figure. While many tribes of Plains Indians wore the ghost shirts and partook of the dance, only the Lakota believed that the clothing would protect them from the bullets of the white man -- an assertion that was made in response to the dancers feared intrusion by U.S. soldiers. This was an idea which agitated the government agents, who, rather than realizing the defensive nature of the ghost shirts, viewed them as symbols of aggression.

The actual dance was performed by all members joining hands to create a circle. In the center of the formation was a sacred tree, or symbol of a tree, decorated with religious offerings. Looking toward the sun, the dancers would do a shuffling, counter-clockwise side-step, chanting while they sang songs of resurrection. Gradually the tempo would be increased to a great beat of arousal. Some dances would continue for days until the participants "died," falling to the ground, rolling around and experiencing visions of a new land of hope and freedom from white people which was promised by the messiah. The dance often produced mass hypnosis in its transfixed participants, and thus, it became known as the Ghost Dance. Curious onlookers were prohibited, furthering the sense of mystery about the ritual and elevating the tension between the dancers, settlers, and soldiers.

They danced without rest, on and on...Occasionally someone thoroughly exhausted and dizzy fell unconscious into the center and lay there "dead"...After a while, many lay about in that condition. They were now "dead" and seeing their dear ones...The visions...ended the same way, like a chorus describing a great encampment of all the Dakotas who had ever died, where...there was no sorrow but only joy, where relatives thronged out with happy laughter...The people went on and on and could not stop, day or night, hoping...to get a vision of their own dead...And so I suppose the authorities did think they were crazy - but they were not. They were only terribly unhappy.

Robbie Robertson, from Music for the Native Americans

You don't stand a chance
Against my prayers.