240 TOE WINTUN. 
oyster cans, ete. In the case of an industrious squaw, several bushels of 
acorns will be poured over her in the grave. Allis cast out of sight and 
out of mind, and whatever cannot be buried is burned. When an Indian 
of rank departs this life his wigwam is burned down. Squaws with tarry 
faces dance on the new rounded grave, with their arms now uplifted, now 
wildly wrung and waved toward the west, while their cries and ululations 
are mournful to hear. The name of the dead is never mentioned more, for- 
ever and ever. He has gone to the sky, he has ascended ol'-lel hon ha'-ra, 
and gone to the Happy Western Land. Standing beneath the blue, broad 
vault of heaven, litthe groups of mourners with bated breath and whisper- 
ing voices will point out to one another imaginary “ spirit-roads” (klesh 
yem'-mel) among the stars. With vague longings and futile questionings they 
seek to solve the time-old mystery of death and the grave. But the name 
is heard no more on earth. If some one in a group of merry talkers, assem- 
bled to while a weary hour and patter the gossip of the campoody, inadver- 
tently mentions the name, another in a hoarse whisper cries out ‘A7-dach’- 
i-da!” (‘It is a dead person!”) and straightway there falls upon all an 
awful silence. No words can describe the shuddering and heart-sickening 
terror which seizes upon them at the utterance of that fearful word. 
Wicked Indians’ ghosts (it would be difficult to determine exactly what 
is a wicked Indian) return into the grizzly bear, for that is the most evil 
and odious animal they can conceive of. Hence they will not partake of 
the flesh of a grizzly, lest they should absorb some wicked soul. The 
strongest cursmg with which a Wintiin can curse another is, “‘ May the 
grizzly bear eat you!” or, ‘‘ May the grizzly bear bite your father’s head 
off!” On the contrary, a black bear is lucky and a sacred beast. In former 
times the Yuki used to carry black-bear skins over the mountains and sell 
them to the Noamlakki at $20 or $30 apiece, to be buried in. Whenever 
a member of a village is so fortunate as to kill one, they celebrate the 
black-bear dance at which the lucky hunter is a hero. They suspend the 
hide and dance around it in a circle, beating it with their fists as if tanning 
it. Then they send it to a neighboring village that they may do likewise. 
There is a word for the Almighty sometimes heard among them— 
Noam-kles-to'-wa—which, as nearly as it can be analyzed, signifies ‘Great 
