Fifty Years a Medium – Chapter 2, 9/14 by Estelle Roberts

Red Cloud loves laughter, which he says creates harmony. He has a sparkling and delighted sense of fun which he frequently brings into play when he feels the atmosphere of a sitting is becoming too tense. I remember one lady, who moved in elevated society circles,

and always exquisitely dressed in the height of fashion, once asked him: “Red Cloud, why is it that the so many of the guides are Indians with painted faces?” She did not mean this unkindly. It was a genuine question which, incidentally, has been asked many times.

“Should the Indian not paint his face?” Red cloud replied with a twinkle. “Do you not do the same?”
The tenseness of the séance at once dissolved in laughter.

At another sitting, when the atmosphere had become charged with emotion, Red Cloud suddenly interposed: “Two days ago others of my race approached me, saying, ‘Come quickly, there are those who would scalp your medium.’ I went with them and found her seated in a chair with her hair attached to a machine. I looked, but she was well and happy, so I went away.”

I was, of course, at the hairdresser’s, having my hair permanently waved.
Another example of spirit identification by a pre-arranged password was when a lady came bringing a personal object which had belonged to someone she loved. She hoped that with its aid she might receive a communication.

In the course of the sitting I became mystified when the only word I could hear was “rabbits,” repeated several times. The sitter asked if there was any message for her. I replied there was, though I doubted whether it could possibly interest her. Somewhat diffidently I told her that all I had received was the word “rabbits.”

“But that is the very word my husband and I agreed upon as evidence of identification,” she exclaimed triumphantly.
After that I was no longer surprised at any message which came from the spirit world.