The Indian is endowed with a far greater acuteness of sense than the European. Despite the dazzling brightness of the long-continued snows, and the injurious action of the smoke of burning wood to which he is constantly exposed, he possesses extraordinary quickness of sight. He can also hear and distinguish the faintest sounds, alike through the gentle rustling of the forest leaves and in the roar of the storm; his power of smell is so delicate that he scents fire long before it becomes visible. By some peculiar instinct the Indian steers through the trackless forests, over the vast prairies, and even across wide sheets of water with unerring certainty. Under the gloomiest and most obscure sky, he can follow the course of the sun[238] as if directed by a compass. These powers would seem innate in this mysterious race; they can scarcely be the fruit of observation or practice, for children who have never left their native village can direct their course through pathless solitudes as accurately as the experienced hunter.

In the early stages of social progress, when the life of man is rude and simple, the reason is little exercised, and his wants and wishes are limited within narrow bounds; consequently, his intellect is feebly developed, and his emotions are few but concentrated. These conditions were generally observable among the rudest tribes of the American Indians.

There are, however, some very striking peculiarities in the intellectual character of the Red Men. Without any aid from letters or education, some of the lower mental faculties are developed in a remarkable degree. As orators, strategists, and politicians, they have frequently exhibited very great power.[240] They are constantly engaged in dangerous and difficult enterprises, where ingenuity and presence of mind are essential for their preservation. They are vigorous in the thought which is allied to action, but altogether incapable of speculation, deduction, or research. The ideas and attention of a savage are confined to the objects relating to his subsistence, safety, or indulgence: every thing else escapes his observation or excites little interest in his mind. Many tribes appear to make no arrangement for the future; neither care nor forethought prevents them from blindly following a present impulse, regardless of its consequences.

The natives of North America were divided into a number of small communities; in the relation of these to each other, war or negotiation was constantly carried on; revolutions, conquests, and alliances frequently occurred among them. To raise the power of his tribe, and to weaken or destroy that of his enemy, was the great aim of every Indian. For these objects schemes were profoundly laid, and deeds of daring valor achieved: the refinements of diplomacy were employed, and plans arranged with the most accurate calculation. These peculiar circumstances also developed the power of oratory to an extraordinary degree.[241] Upon all occasions of importance, speeches were delivered with eloquence, and heard with deep attention. When danger threatened, or opportunity of aggrandizement or revenge offered itself, a council of the tribe was called, where those most venerable from age and illustrious for wisdom deliberated for the public good. The composition of the Indian orator is studied and elaborate; the language is vigorous, and, at the same time, highly imaginative; all ideas are expressed by figures addressed to the senses; the sun and stars, mountains and rivers, lakes and forests, hatchets of war and pipes of peace, fire and water, are employed as illustrations of his subject with almost Oriental art and richness. His eloquence is unassisted by action or varied intonation, but his earnestness excites the sympathy of the audience, and his persuasion sinks into their hearts.[242]

The want of any written or hieroglyphic records of the past among the Northern Indians was, to some extent, supplied by the accurate memories of their old men; they were able to repeat speeches of four or five hours' duration, and delivered many years before, without error or even hesitation, and to hand them down from generation to generation with equal accuracy, their recollection being only assisted by small pieces of wood corresponding to the different subjects of discourse. On great and solemn occasions, belts of wampum were used as aid to recollection whenever a conference was held with a neighboring tribe, or a treaty or compact is negotiated. One of these belts, differing in some respects from any other hitherto used, was made for the occasion; each person who speaks holds this in his hand by turns, and all he says is recorded in the "living books" of the by-standers' memory in connection with the belt. When the conference ends, this memorial is deposited in the hands of the principal chief. As soon as any important treaty is ratified, a broad wampum belt of unusual splendor is given by each contracting party to the other, and these tokens are deposited among the other belts, that form, as it were, the archives of the nation. At stated intervals they are reproduced before the people, and the events which they commemorate are circumstantially recalled. Certain of the Indian women are intrusted with the care of these belts: it is their duty to relate to the children of the tribe the circumstances of each treaty or conference, and thus is kept alive the remembrance of every important event.

On the matters falling within his limited comprehension, the Indian often displays a correct and solid judgment; he pursues his object without hesitation or diversion. He is quickly perceptive of simple facts or ideas, but any artificial combination, or mechanical contrivance he is slow to comprehend, especially as he considers every thing beneath his notice which is not necessary to his advantage or enjoyment. It is very difficult to engage him in any labor of a purely mental character, but he often displays vivacity and ardor in matters that interest him, and is frequently quick and happy in repartee.[243]

The Red Man is usually characterized by a certain savage elevation of soul and calm self-possession, that all the aid of religion and philosophy can not enable his civilized brethren to surpass. Master of his emotions, the expression of his countenance rarely alters for a moment even under the most severe and sudden trials. The prisoner, uncertain as to the fate that may befall him, preparing for his dreadful death, or racked by agonizing tortures, still raises his unfaltering voice in the death song, and turns a fearless front toward his tormentors.[245]

The art of numbering was unknown in some American tribes, and even among the most advanced it was very imperfect; the savage had no property to estimate, no coins to count, no variety of ideas to enumerate. Many nations could not reckon above three, and had no words in their language to distinguish a greater number; some proceeded as far as ten, others to twenty; when they desired to convey an idea of a larger amount, they pointed to the hair of the head, or declared that it could not be counted. Computation is a mystery to all rude nations; when, however, they acquire the knowledge of a number of objects, and find the necessity of combining or dividing them, their acquaintance with arithmetic increases; the state of this art is therefore, to a considerable extent, a criterion of their degree of progress. The wise and politic Iroquois had advanced the farthest, but even they had not got beyond one thousand; the smaller tribes seldom reached above ten.

The first ideas are suggested to the mind of man by the senses: the Indian acquires no other. The objects around him are all important; if they be available for his present purposes, they attract his attention, otherwise they excite no curiosity: he neither combines nor arranges them, nor does he examine the operations of his own mind upon them; he has no abstract or universal ideas, and his reasoning powers are generally employed upon matters merely obvious to the senses. In the languages of the ruder tribes there were no words to express any thing that is not material, such as faith, time, imagination, and the like. When the mind of the savage is not occupied with matters relating to his animal existence, it is altogether inactive. In the islands, and upon the exuberant plains of the south, where little exertion of ingenuity was required to obtain the necessaries of life, the rational faculties were frequently dormant, and the countenance remained vacant and inexpressive. Even the superior races of the north loiter away their time in thoughtless indolence, when not engaged in war or the chase, deeming other objects unworthy of their consideration. Where reason is so limited in a field for exertion, the mind can hardly acquire any considerable degree of vigor or enlargement. In civilized life men are urged to activity and perseverance by a desire to gratify numerous artificial wants; but the necessities of the Indian are few, and provided for by nature almost spontaneously. He detests labor, and will sometimes sit for whole days together without uttering a word or changing his posture. Neither the hope of reward nor the prospect of future want can overcome this inveterate indolence.

Among the northern tribes, however, dwelling under a rigorous climate, some efforts are employed, and some precautions taken, to procure subsistence; but the necessary industry is even there looked upon as a degradation: the greater part of the labor is performed by women, and man will only stoop to those portions of the work which he considers least ignominious. This industry, so oppressive to one half of the community, is very partial, and directed by a limited foresight. During one part of the year they depend upon fishing for a subsistence, during another upon the chase, and the produce of the ground is their resource for the third. Regardless of the warnings of experience, they neglect to apportion provision for their wants, or can so little restrain their appetites, that, from imprudence or extravagance, they often are exposed to the miseries of famine like their ruder neighbors. Their sufferings are soon forgotten, and the horrors of one year seem to teach no lesson of providence for the next.

The Indians, for the most part, are very well acquainted with the geography of their own country. When questioned as to the situation of any particular place, they will trace out on the ground with a stick, if opportunity offer, a tolerably accurate map of the locality indicated. They will show the course of the rivers, and, by pointing toward the sun, explain the bearings of their rude sketch. There have been recorded some most remarkable instances of the accuracy with which they can travel toward a strange place, even when its description had only been received through the traditions of several generations, and they could have possessed no personal knowledge whatever of the surrounding country.

The religion of the natives of America can not but be regarded with an interest far deeper than the gratification of mere curiosity. The forms of faith, the rites, the ideas of immortality; the belief in future reward, in future punishment; the recognition of an invisible Power, infinitely surpassing that of the warrior or the chief; the dim traditions of a first parent, and a general deluge—all these, among a race so long isolated from the rest of the human family, distinct in language, habits, form, and mind, and displaying, when societies began to exist, a civilization utterly dissimilar from any before known, afford subject for earnest thought and anxious inquiry. Those who in the earlier times of American discovery supplied information on these points, were generally little qualified for the task. Priests and missionaries alone had leisure or inclination to pursue the subject; and their minds were often so preoccupied with their own peculiar doctrines, that they accommodated to them all that fell under their observation, and explained it by analogies which had no existence but in their own zealous imaginations. They seldom attempted to consider what they saw or heard in relation to the rude notions of the savages themselves. From a faint or fancied similarity of peculiar Indian superstitions to certain articles of Christian faith, some missionaries imagined they had discovered traces of an acquaintance with the divine mysteries of salvation: they concluded that the savage possessed a knowledge of the doctrine of the Trinity,[247] of the Incarnation, of the sacrifice of a Saviour, and of sacraments, from their own interpretation of certain expressions and ceremonies.[248] But little confidence can be placed in any evidence derived from such sources.

The earlier travelers in the interior of the New World received the impression that the Indians had no religious belief; they saw neither priests, temples, idols, nor sacrifices among any of the various and numerous tribes. A further knowledge of this strange people disproved the hastily-formed opinion, and showed that their whole life and all their actions were influenced by a belief in the spiritual world.[249] It is now known that the American Indians were pre-eminent among savage nations for the superior purity of their religious faith,[250] and, indeed, over even the boasted elegance of poetical mythology. From the reports of all those worthy of credence, who have lived intimately among these children of the forest, it is certain that they firmly believe in the power and unity of the Most High God, and in an immortality of happiness or misery. They worship the Great Spirit, the Giver of life, and attribute to him the creation of the world, and the government of all things with infinite love, wisdom, and power. Of the origin of their religion they are altogether ignorant. In general they believe that, after the world was created and supplied with animal life by the Great Spirit, he formed the first red man and woman, who were very large of stature, and lived to an extreme old age; that he often held council with his creatures, gave them laws and instructed them, but that the red children became rebels against their Great Father, and he then withdrew himself in sorrowful anger from among them, and left them to the vexations of the Bad Spirit. But still this merciful Father, from afar off, where he may be seen no more, showers down upon them all the blessings they enjoy. The Indians are truly filial and sincere in their devotions; they pray for what they need, and return hearty thanks for such mercies as they have enjoyed.[251] They supplicate him to bestow courage and skill upon them in the battle; the endurance which enables them to mock the cruel tortures of their enemies is attributed to his aid; their preparation for war is a long-continued religious ceremony; their march is supposed to be under omnipotent guidance, and their expeditions in the chase are held to be not unworthy of divine superintendence. They reject all idea of chance on the fortune of war, and believe firmly that every result is the decision of a Superior Power.[252] Although this elevated conception of the One God[253] is deeply impressed upon the Indian's mind, it is tainted with some of the alloy which ever must characterize the uninspired faith. Those who have inquired into the religious opinions of the uneducated and laborious classes of men, even in the most enlightened and civilized communities, find that their system of belief is derived from instruction, and not from instinct or the results of their own examination: in savage life it is vain to expect that men should reason accurately, from cause to effect, and form a just idea of the Creator from the creation. The Indian combines the idea of the Great Spirit with others of a less perfect nature. The word used by him to indicate this Sovereign Being does not convey the notion of an immaterial nature; it signifies with him some one possessed of lofty and mysterious powers, and in this sense may be applied to men and even to animals.

To the first inquirers into the religious faith of the native Americans, the subject of their mythology presented very great difficulties and complications; those Indians who attempted to explain it to Europeans had themselves no distinct or fixed opinions. Each man put forward peculiar notions, and was constantly changing them, without attempting to reconcile his self-contradictions.

Some of the southern tribes, who were more settled in their religious faith, exhibited a remarkable degree of bigotry and spiritual pride. They called the Europeans "men of the accursed speech," while they styled themselves "the beloved of the Great Spirit." The Canadian and other northern nations, however, were less intolerant, and at any time easily induced to profess the recantation of their heathen errors for some small advantage. Among these latter, the hare was deemed to possess some mystic superiority over the rest of the animal creation; it was even raised to be an object of worship, and the Great Hare was confounded in their minds with the Great Spirit. The Algonquins believed in a Water God, who opposes himself to the benevolent designs of the Great Spirit; it is strange that the name of the Great Tiger should be given to this Deity, as the country does not produce such an animal, and from this it appears probable that the tradition of his existence had come from elsewhere. They have also a third Deity, who presides over their winter season. The gods of the Indians have bodies like the sons of men, and subsist in like manner with them, but are free from the pains and cares of mortality; the term "spirit" among them only signifies a being of a superior and more excellent nature than man. However, they believe in the omnipresence of their deities, and invoke their aid in all times and places.

Besides the Great Spirit and the lesser deities above mentioned, every Indian has his own Manitou, Okki, or guardian power; this divinity's presence is represented by some portable object, often of the most insignificant nature, such as the head, beak, or claw of a bird, the hoof of a deer or cow. No youth can be received among the brotherhood of warriors till he has placed himself, in due form, under the care of this familiar. The ceremony is deemed of great importance: several days of strict fasting are always observed in preparation for the important event, and the youth's dreams are carefully noted during this period. While under these circumstances, some object usually makes a deep impression upon his mind; this is then chosen for his Manitou or guardian spirit, and a specimen, of it is procured. He is next placed for some time in a large vapor bath, and having undergone the process of being steamed, is laid on the ground, and the figure of the Manitou is pricked on his breast with needles of fish-bone dipped in vermilion; the intervals between the scars are then rubbed with gunpowder, so as to produce a mixture of red and blue. When this operation is performed, he cries aloud to the Great Spirit, invoking aid, and praying to be received as a warrior.

The Indian submits with resignation to the chastening will of the Great Spirit. When overtaken by any disaster, he diligently examines himself to discover what omission of observance or duty has called down the punishment, and endeavors to atone for past neglect by increased devotion. But if the Manitou be deemed to have shown want of ability or inclination to defend him, he upbraids the guardian power with bitterness and contempt, and threatens to seek a more effectual protector. If the Manitou continue useless, this threat is fulfilled. Fasting and dreaming are again resorted to in the same manner as before, and the vision of another Manitou is obtained. The former representation is then, as much as possible, effaced, and the figure of the newly-adopted amulet painted in its place. All the veneration and confidence forfeited by the first Manitou is now transferred to the successor.[254]

It is also part of the Indian's religious belief that there are inferior spirits to rule over the elements, under the control of the Supreme Power, he being so great that he must, like their chiefs, have attendants to execute his behests. These inferior spirits see what passes on earth, and report it to their Great Ruler: the Indian, trusting to their good offices, invokes those spirits of the air in times of peril, and endeavors to propitiate them by throwing tobacco or other simple offerings to the winds or upon the waters. But, amid all these corrupt and ignorant superstitions, the One Spirit, the Creator and Ruler of the World, is the great object of the Red Man's adoration. On him they rest their hopes; to him they address their daily prayers, and render their solemn sacrifice.

The worship of the Indians, although frequently in private, is generally little regulated either by ceremonies or stated periodical devotions. But there are, at times, great occasions, when the whole tribe assembles for the purpose,[255] such as in declaring war or proclaiming peace, or when visited by storms or earthquakes. Their great feasts all partake of a religious character; every thing provided must be consumed by the assembly, as being consecrated to the Great Spirit. The Ottawas seem to have had a more complicated mythology than any other tribe: they held a regular festival in honor of the sun; and, while rendering thanks for past benefit, prayed that it might be continued to the future. They have also been observed to erect an idol in their village, and offer it sacrifice: this ceremony was, however, very rare. Many Western tribes visit the spring whence they have been supplied with water during the winter, at the breaking up of the ice, and there offer up their grateful worship to the Great Spirit for having preserved them in health and safety, and having supplied their wants. This pious homage is performed with much ceremony and devotion.

Among this rude people, who were at one time supposed to have been without any religion, habitual piety may be considered the most remarkable characteristic: every action of their lives is connected with some acknowledgment of a Superior Power. Many have imagined that the severe fasts sometimes endured by the Indians were only for the purpose of accustoming themselves to support hunger; but all the circumstances connected with these voluntary privations leave no doubt that they were solemn religious exercises. Dreams and visions during these fasts were looked upon as oracular, and respected as the revelations of Heaven. The Indian frequently propitiates the favor of the inferior spirits by vows; when for some time unsuccessful in the chase, or suffering from want in long journeys, he promises the genius of the spot to bestow upon one of his chiefs, in its honor, a portion of the first fruits of his success;[256] if the chief be too distant to receive the gift, it is burned in sacrifice.

The belief of the Indian in a future state, although deeply cherished and sincere, can scarcely be regarded as a defined idea of the immortality of the soul.[257] There is little spiritual or exalted in his conception. When he attempts to form a distinct notion of the spirit, he is blinded by his senses; he calls it the shadow or image of his body, but its acts and enjoyments are all the same as those of its earthly existence. He only pictures to himself a continuation of present pleasures. His Heaven is a delightful country, far away beyond the unknown Western seas, where the skies are ever bright and serene, the air genial, the spring eternal, and the forests abounding in game; no war, disease, or torture are known in that happy land; the sufferings of life are endured no more, and its sweetest pleasures are perpetuated and increased; his wife is tender and obedient, his children dutiful and affectionate. In this country of eternal happiness, the Indian hopes to be again received into the favor of the Great Spirit, and to rejoice in his glorious presence.[258] But in his simple mind there is a deep and enduring conviction that admission to this delightful country of souls can only be attained by good and noble actions in this mortal life. For the bad men there is a fate terribly different—endless afflictions, want, and misery; a land of hideous desolation; barren, parched, and dreary hunting-grounds, the abode of evil and malignant spirits, whose office is to torture, whose pleasure is to enhance the misery of the condemned. It is also almost universally believed that the Great Spirit manifests his wrath or his favor to the evil and the good in their journey to the land of souls. After death the Indian believes that he is supplied with a canoe; and if he has been a virtuous warrior, or otherwise worthy, he is guided across the vast deep to a haven of eternal happiness and peace by the hand of the Great Spirit; but if his life be stained with cowardice, vice, or negligence of duty, he is abandoned to the malignity of evil genii, driven about by storms and darkness over that unknown sea, and at length cast ashore on the barren land, where everlasting torments are his portion.[259]

The Indians generally believe in the existence of a Spirit of Evil, and occasionally pray to him in deprecation of his wrath. They do not doubt his inferiority to the Great Spirit, but they believe that he has the power to inflict torments and punishments upon the human race, and that he has a malignant delight in its exercise.

The souls of the lower animals are also held by the Red Man to be immortal: he recognizes a certain portion of understanding in them, and each creature is supposed to possess a guardian spirit peculiar to itself. He only claims a superiority in degree of intelligence and power over the beasts of the field, Man is but the king of animals. In the world of souls are to be found the shades of every thing that breathes the breath of life. However, he takes little pains to arrange or develop these strange ideas. The enlightened heathen philosophers of antiquity were not more successful.

To penetrate the mysteries of the future has always been a favorite object of superstition,[260] and has been attempted by a countless variety of means. The Indian trusts to his dreams for this revelation, and invariably holds them sacred. Before he engages in any important undertaking, particularly in war, diplomacy, or the chase, the dreams of his principal chiefs are carefully watched and examined; by their interpretation his conduct is guided. In this manner the fate of a whole nation has often been decided by the chance visions of a single man. The Indian considers that dreams are the mode by which the Great Spirit condescends to hold converse with man; thence arises his deep veneration for the omens and warnings they may shadow forth.[261]

Many other superstitions, besides those of prognostics from dreams, are cherished among the Indians. Each remarkable natural feature, such as a great cataract, a lake, or a difficult and dangerous pass, possesses a spirit of the spot, whose favor they are fain to propitiate by votive offerings: skins, bones, pieces of metal, and dead dogs are hung up in the neighborhood, and dedicated to its honor. Supposed visions of ghosts are sometimes, but rarely, spoken of: it is, however, generally believed that the souls of the dead continue for some time to hover round the earthly remains: dreading, therefore, that the spirits of those they have tortured watch near them to seek opportunity of vengeance, they beat the air violently with rods, and raise frightful cries to scare the shadowy enemy away.

Among some of the Indian tribes, an old man performed the duty of a priest at their religious festivals; he broke the bread and cast it in the fire, dedicated the different offerings, and officiated in the sacrifice. It was also his calling to declare the omens from dreams and other signs, as the warnings of Heaven. These religious duties of the priest were totally distinct from the office of the juggler, or "medicine-man," although some observers have confounded them together. There were also vestals in many nations of the continent who were supposed to supply by their touch a precious medicinal efficacy to certain roots and simples.

The "medicine-men," or jugglers, undertook the cure of diseases, the interpretation of omens, the exorcising of evil spirits, and magic in all its branches. They were men of great consideration in the tribe, and were called in and regularly paid as physicians; but this position could only be attained by undergoing certain ordeals, which were looked upon as a compact with the spirits of the air. The process of the vapor bath was first endured; severe fasting followed, accompanied by constant shouting, singing, beating a sort of drum, and smoking. After these preliminaries the jugglers were installed by extravagant ceremonies, performed with furious excitement and agitation. They possessed, doubtless, some real knowledge of the healing art; and in external wounds or injuries, the causes of which are obvious, they applied powerful simples, chiefly vegetable, with considerable skill. With decoctions from ginseng, sassafras, hedisaron, and a tall shrub called bellis, they have been known to perform remarkable cures in cases of wounds and ulcers. They scarified the seat of inflammation or rheumatic pain skillfully with sharp-pointed bones, and accomplished the cupping process by the use of gourd shells as substitutes for glasses. For all internal complaints, their favorite specific was the vapor bath, which they formed with much ingenuity from their rude materials. This was doubtless a very efficient remedy, but they attached to it a supernatural influence, and employed it in the ceremonies of solemn preparation for great councils.

All cases of disease, when the cause could not be discovered, were attributed to the influence of malignant spirits. To meet these, the medicine-man, or juggler, invested himself with his mysterious character, and endeavored to exorcise the demon by a great variety of ceremonies, a mixture of delusion and imposture. For this purpose, he arrayed himself in a strange and fanciful dress, and on his first arrival began to sing and dance round the sufferer, invoking the spirits with loud cries. When exhausted with these exertions, he attributed the hidden cause of the malady to the first unusual idea that suggested itself to his mind, and in the confidence of his supposed inspiration, proclaimed the necessary cure. The juggler usually contrived to avoid the responsibility of failure by ordering a remedy impossible of attainment when the patient was not likely to recover. The Iroquois believed that every ailment was a desire of the soul, and, when death followed, it was from the desire not having been accomplished.

Among many of the Indian tribes, the barbarous custom of putting to death those who were thought past recovery, existed, and still exists. Others abandoned these unfortunates to perish of hunger and thirst, or under the jaws of the wild beasts of the forest. Some nations put to death all infants who had lost their mother, or buried them alive in her grave, under the impression that no other woman could rear them, and that they must perish by hunger. But the dreadful custom of deserting the aged and emaciated among the wandering tribes is universal.[262] When these miserable creatures become incapable of walking or riding, and there is no means of carrying them, they themselves uniformly insist upon being abandoned to their fate, saying that they are old and of no further use—they left their fathers in the same manner—they wish to die, and their children must not mourn for them. A small fire and a few pieces of wood, a scanty supply of meat, and perhaps a buffalo skin, are left as the old man's sole resources. When in a few months the wandering tribe may revisit the spot where he was deserted, a skull and a few scattered bones will be all that the wolves and vultures have left as tokens of his dreadful fate.

The Indian father and mother display great tenderness for their children,[263] even to the weakness of unlimited indulgence; this affection, however, appears to be merely instinctive, for they use no exertion whatever to lead their offspring to the paths of virtue. Children, on their part, show very little filial affection, and frequently treat their parents, especially their father, with indignity and violence. This vicious characteristic is strongly exemplified in the horrible custom above described.

When the Indian believes that his death is at hand, his conduct is usually stoical and dignified. If he still retain the power of speech, he harangues those who surround him in a funeral oration, advising and encouraging his children, and bidding them and all his friends farewell. During this time, the relations of the dying man slay all the dogs they can catch, trusting that the souls of these animals will give notice of the approaching departure of the warrior for the world of spirits; they then take leave of him, wish him a happy voyage, and cheer him with the hope that his children will prove worthy of his name. When the last moment arrives, all the kindred break into loud lamentations, till some one high in consideration desires them to cease. For weeks afterward, however, these cries of grief are daily renewed at sunrise and sunset. In three days after death the funeral takes place, and the neighbors are invited to a feast of all the provisions that can be procured, which must be all consumed. The relations of the deceased do not join in the banquet; they cut off their hair, cover their heads, blacken their faces, and for a long time deny themselves every amusement.[264]

The deceased is buried with his arms and ornaments, and a supply of provisions for his long journey; the face is painted, and the body arrayed in the richest robes that can be obtained; it is then laid in the grave in an upright posture, and skins are carefully placed around, that it may not touch the earth. At stated intervals of eight, ten, or twelve years, the Indians celebrate the singular ceremony of the Festival of the Dead; till this has been performed, the souls of the deceased are supposed still to hover round their earthly remains. At this solemn festival, the people march in procession to the burial-ground, open the tombs, and continue for a time gazing on the moldering relics in mournful silence. Then, while the women raise a loud wailing, the bones of the dead are carefully collected, wrapped in fresh and valuable robes, and conveyed to the family cabin.[265] A feast is then held for several days, with dances, games, and prize combats. The relics are next carried to the council-house of the nation, where they are publicly displayed, with the presents destined to be interred with them. Sometimes the remains are even carried on bearers from village to village. At length they are laid in a deep pit, lined with rich furs; tears and lamentations are again renewed, and for some time fresh provisions are daily laid, by this simple people, upon the graves of their departed friends.