118 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL 7 
“The most of them had adorned themselves for the occasicn. 
Plumes were floating from their scalp-locks; their heads and breasts 
were painted with vermilion, and long strings of wampum hung 
from their necks and mutilated ears. But at the present moment 
there appeared to be no thought of their appearance. Every sense 
was wrapped up in an intense interest in the approaching council; 
every breath was held; and every eye fixed with eagerness upon the 
face of the Commissioner, as he arose to address the meeting.” (Op. 
cit., pp. 233-235.) This vivid description of the gathering of the 
Oto in a great earth-covered structure near the banks of the Missouri 
during the summer of 1833 tends to recall Lieut. Timberlake’s meet- 
ing with the head men of the Cherokee, when they came together 
in the townhouse at Chote late in the year 1761. The two structures 
were of similar appearance and probably did not differ greatly in 
size, although at Chote there were several tiers of seats surrounding 
the central space within the house which were lacking in the Oto 
lodge, but the two gatherings were evidently quite similar, although 
belonging to different generations and being in regions separated by 
many hundreds of miles of forest and plain. The great rotundas, 
or townhouses of the Cherokee, were the most interesting of the 
various native structures which formerly stood east of the Missis- 
sippi. (Bushnell, (1), pp. 59-63.) 
The preceding notes on the Oto refer to their permanent earth- 
lodge villages, which were occupied only part of each year. When 
away from the village they would make use of the skin-covered 
tipi, although the temporary shelter of the Pawnee may have been 
copied by some members of the tribe. Fortunately a very good de- 
scription of the appearance of a winter encampment of several 
families, at some point far west of thé Missouri on the prairie of 
Nebraska, during the winter of 1851-52, has been preserved. The 
account was prepared by a traveler who became separated from his 
companions and reached the camp unexpectedly while traversing 
the snow-covered wilderness. The “little camp consisted of two 
large tents, which stood in a deep ravine, overgrown with stunted 
oaks, and on the banks of a deep stream, whose waters were hidden 
beneath a thick covering of ice.” One tent belonged to the chief 
Wa-ki-ta-mo-nee, the other to a half-breed named Louis Farfar. 
Arriving at the camp, so the narrative continues, I “ crawled into 
the tent of the medicine-man, and took my place by his blazing 
fire, while the other occupants lay or crouched around. The old 
mother was busy in the preparation of the meat, and by her side, 
next the opening, were two daughters; the older about eighteen, the 
younger about two years old. The father of the family, his son, and 
Schin-ges-in-ki-nee had, according to Indian custom, kept the best 
