RELIGIOUS IDEAS—SONGS. 287 
a circle and swing merrily around an old man seated upon the grass, chant- 
ing to a lively step; then presently they break the circle with screams and 
laughter, and flee in every direction. The young men waiting near pursue 
and capture each his mistress, and kindly, liberal night draws her sable 
curtain over the scene that ensues. 
Many of them believe in the annihilation of the soul, or as Blind 
Charlie expressed it to me, ‘that they will never live any more”. It is not 
annihilation, pure and simple, of which the Indians are probably incapable 
of conceiving; but they think that many departed spirits enter into inani- 
mate forms, as the mountains, rocks, trees, or into animals, especially the 
grizzly bear and the rattlesnake In this latter case it is simply transmi- 
gration. 
They have a conception of a Great Man (he’-lin mai’-du), who created 
the world and all its inhabitants. The earth was primarily a globe of molten 
matter, and from that the principle of fire ascended through the roots into 
the trunk and branches of trees, whence the Indians can extract it by means 
of their drill. The Great Man created woman first, and then cohabited 
with her, and from their issue the world was peopled. Lightning is the 
Great Man himself descending swiftly. out of heaven, and rending the trees 
with his flaming arm. According to another and prettier fancy, thunder 
and lightning are two malignant spirits, struggling with all their fearful and 
incendiary power to destroy mankind. The rainbow is a good spirit, mild 
and peaceful, which overcomes them with its gentle sway, mollifies their 
rage, and permits the human race to occupy the earth a little longer. 
Besides the wholly unmeaning choruses which they have in common 
with all, they possess also some songs which are really entitled to the name, 
having a body of intelligible words and expressing sentiments. I heard an 
Indian at Oroville sing one, called “a song of rejoicing” (so’-lim wuk'-tem 
tu'-lim-shim), which was a schottish, and very pretty. But it was still prettier 
when played on the flute by an American, and I deeply regretted my 
inability to write down music from the ear. It was a most gay and trip- 
ping little sprite, sweet, and wild, and wayward, with bold dashes across an 
octave, and seeming to be wholly out of joint, because of having hardly 
any two consecutive notes on the same line. It was quite lengthy, requir- 
