PROCLAMATIONS AND PRELIMINARIES. 387 
women---the women—have the most offerings—the most offerings—give 
the most—give the most—the women—the women—give the most.” 
He spoke fully as long as Sloknich had done, and while he was speak- 
ing they were preparing a decoction of Indian tobacco by the fire. When 
he ceased he took his place in the circle, and all of them now began to sip 
and taste the tobacco, which seemed to be intended as a kind of mortifica- 
tion of the flesh. Sitting along on the embankment, while the nauseous 
mess was passing around in a basket, and others were tasting the boiled 
leaves, they sought to mitigate the bitter dose with jokes and laughter. 
One said, ‘‘Did you ever see the women gather tobacco for themselves ?” 
This was intended as a jest, for no woman eyer touches the weed, but 
nobody laughed at it. As the powerful emetic began to work out its 
inevitable effect, one Indian after another arose from the circle and passed 
slowly and silently out into the outer darkness, whence there presently 
came up to our ears certain doleful and portentous sounds, painfully 
familiar to people who have been at sea. After all the Indians in the circle, 
except a few tough stomachs, had issued forth into the darkness and returned 
to their places, about eleven o’clock, the herald went around as before, 
making a third proclamation : 
“Let all mourn and weep. O, weep for the dead. Think of the dead 
body lying in the grave. We shall all die soon. We were a great people 
once. We are weak and littlé now. Be sorrowful in your hearts. O, let 
sorrow melt your hearts. Let your tears flow fast. We are all one people. 
We are all friends. All our hearts are one heart.” 
For the last hour or so the mourners and their more intimate friends 
and sympathizers, mostly women, had been collecting in Kolomusnim’s 
quarter, close behind the circle, and preparing their offerings. Occasionally 
a long, solitary wail came up, trembling on the cold night-wind. At the 
close of the third proclamation they began a death-dance, and the mourners 
crowded promiscuously in a great, open booth, and held aloft in their hands 
or on their heads, as they danced, the articles they intended to offer to the 
memory of the departed. It was a splendid exhibition of barbaric gew- 
gaws. Glittering necklaces of Haliotis and other rare marine shells; bits 
of American tapestry; baskets of the finest workmanship, on which they 
