DANCE OF PROPITIATION. 29 
from flesh on penalty of death. The attendant is allowed to eat sparingly 
of acorn-porridge only. 
Meantime what is going on in camp? During the long days while they 
are awaiting the return of the Kareya Indian, the men and squaws amuse 
themselves with song and lively dance, wherein they join together. Various 
games are played; gambling is indulged in. But singing and dancing are 
the principal amusements, and considerable time is devoted to teaching the 
boys to dance in imitation of the solemn and momentous ceremonial which 
is to be observed when the Kareya Indian returns. 
Sometimes in a dithyrambic frenzy, men and women mingling together, 
they wildly leap and dance; now each one chanting a different story, ex- 
temporized on the spot in the manner of the Italian improvisatore, and yet 
keeping perfect time, and now all uniting in a chorus. Then again sitting 
in a solemn circle on the ground, or slowly walking in a ring around the 
fire, hand joined in hand, while the flames gleam upon their swarthy faces, 
ripple in the folds of their barbaric paludaments of tasseled deer-skin, and 
light up their grotesque chaplets and club-queues in nodding shadows, they 
intone those weird and eldritch chantings, in which blend at once an under- 
tone of infinite pathos and a hoarse, deathly rattle of despair; and which I 
never yet have learned to listen to without a certain feeling of terror. 
And now at last the attendant arrives on the summit of some overlook- 
ing mountain, and with warning voice announces the approach of the Ka- 
reya Indian. In all haste the people flee in terror, for it is death to behold 
him. Gaunt and haggard and hollow-eyed, reduced to a perfect skeleton 
by his terrible sufferings, he staggers feebly into camp, leaning on the 
shoulder of the attendant, or perhaps borne in the arms of those who have 
been summoned to bring him in from the mountains; for in such an extreme 
instance a secular Indian may assist, provided his eyes are bandaged. 
Long before he is in sight the people have all disappeared. ‘They take 
refuge in the deeps of the forest, or enter into their wickiups and cabins, 
fling themselves down with their faces upon the ground, and cover their 
eyes with their hands. Some wrap many thicknesses of blankets about 
their heads. Little children are carefully gathered into the booths, and. 
their faces hidden deep in folds of clothing or blankets, lest they should in- 
