334 THE NISHINAM. 
time he sleeps, rousing near meridian to take the only repast he allows him- 
self in twenty-four hours. There is also a repeater, frequently a boy of 
good voice, whose function is to repeat after him all his utterances. The 
repeater and the novitiate are allowed to eat twice a day. In this case the 
repeater, being a boy, got sore hungered and fagged out by the long-drawn 
exercises, and he ran away. A dose of raw acorn-flour and water was 
administered to him, which was considered a specific against any desire to 
run away. 
The great round dance-house is gorgeously decorated for this occasion ; 
with black bear-skins hanging from the roof; with streamers and festoons 
of different lengths, some of them twelve feet long, all made of yellow- 
hammers’ feathers, and with a pair of ‘garlands (yok’-kol) encircling the 
whole house. The upper garland, passing around about at the height of 
one’s head, consists of many kinds of acorns, alternating at short intervals 
on a string with brilliant wild-duck feathers. The lower one, at the floor, 
is composed of various plants, savory herbs, mints, leaves, etc. It is death 
to any person, in passing underneath the garland, to touch it; he must bow 
his head, and walk circumspectly. 
When evening comes on, men, women, and children assemble in the 
dance-house, the fire is put out, all lights are extinguished, and darkness 
reigns profound. Exactly what the magician does nobody knows; of 
course I could not see him, and the interpreter dared not interrupt him by 
explaining to me. He sits cross-legged like a tailor, one Indian holds his 
knees down, another embraces him tight in his arms, yet he melts out of 
their gripe like an insubstantial vision. He goes through the roof where 
there is no orifice. His voice, or somebody’s voice, floats about the rafters, 
or wells up from the ground. There are mysterious rappings in the air. 
The Indians regard all these things with that impenetrable and imper- 
vious solemnity with which they accept everything especially intended for 
their amusement. They doze awhile, then they sit up awhile and listen to 
the interminable goings-on. Now and then a bright point of fire in the 
pitchy darkness reveals a cigarette burning. The Indian is absolutely the 
most nil admirari being in the world. He believes everything, and—gam- 
bles, or would if it were not dark. ° “It is the wind”, he says. “Of course, 
