INDIAN HOME LIFE. Ill 



language even, are all things of the past. This rem- 

 nant of a race, living so quietly in these islands, 

 hemmed in between forest and ocean, peacefully cul- 

 tivating their gardens and weaving baskets, quietly 

 breathing away existence, are slowly but surely pass- 

 ing on into the great gulf of forgetfulness. Already 

 have they forgotten the deeds of their fathers, the 

 dread prowess of their ancestors. The bow, the 

 hatchet, the war-club, mighty weapons in willing 

 hands, are lost. In all their settlements one cannot 

 find a bow. Here, then, are people who have lost 

 language, prestige, tradition, ambition ; and it is a 

 matter of comparatively little time ere they will have 

 ceased to exist, and the forests and rivers, the cool, 

 fern-shaded baths and tropic streams, no longer know 

 their presence. 



