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they could release her whenever they wished. She carried her “ spirit 
bundle ” to their wigwam and requested her freedom. They opened the 
bundle, reserved for themselves whatever of value she had wrapped up with 
it, burnt in a fire or buried in the ground beside the grave the dead man’s 
hair, his nails, and the chips of wood, entertained her with a feast, and pre- 
sented her with a few gifts to take back to her hut. Even though she was 
now free they still contributed to her support until she remarried. Her dead 
husband's brother as well as her own brother would drop a carcass at her 
door, or would say to her when he returned from his hunting “ There is a 
dead deer over yonder. Go and bring it in for yourself." 
When a man dies, the Parry Islanders say, his body disintegrates, his 
soul travels to the spirit land governed by Nanibush or his brother Wolf, 
but his shadow perpetually haunts the spot where he was buried. Since it 
still retains, though disembodied, the needs and desires of its former exist- 
ence, Indians passing the grave left a little food and tobacco; if possible, 
too, a mirror, which they thought gave it special pleasure. The dead man's 
shadow, of course, used only the souls or shadows of these objects, and a 
starving native might appropriate the food or tobacco without any qualms. 
But the Indians feared to despoil a grave without leaving an equivalent, 
lest the shadow should fake offence and work them harm. Hence, not so 
many years ago, when some Shawanaga natives sought to recover a medal 
that had been buried with a relative, a medicine-man advised its replace- 
ment with a mirror to avoid the shadow's displeasure. A shadow could even 
make known its needs, for to dream of a dead man as still living meant that 
his shadow was in want. One family that lived on the Shawanaga reserve 
used to save a little food from every feast to deposit on their relatives’ 
graves ; and in former times the Indians never drank whisky without pour- 
ing a drop or two on the ground as an offering both to the Great Spirit and 
to the shadows of the dead. Even today conservative natives like Jonas 
King still spill a few drops of tea before every meal, or throw a few crumbs 
of food into the fire, firmly believing that these offerings to their dead are 
equally acceptable sacrifices to the Great Spirit. 
“ Some drunken Indians with whom I was once camping woke me up in the 
middle of the night to offer me a cup of whisky. I told them to place it under a 
near-by tree and went to sleep again. Suddenly a stone struck me. I sat up and 
looked around, but seeing my companions all asleep lay down again. Another stone 
fell beside me. Then I knew that the shadows of some dead 1 people craved the 
whisky, so I arose and poured it into the fire. The shadows were satisfied and 
troubled me no more” (Pegahmagabow). 
“ Some Cape Croker Indians who were paddling along the coast one evening 
saw the light of a camp-fire in a small bay. They put in to shore and 1 landed, 
expecting to find some of their relatives; but the fire had disappeared. As they 
were re-embarking one of them said, 1 It must have been the shadow of some dead 
Indian.’ So they turned back, built a fire, and poured a little whisky on it. They 
saw the shadow moving beside the fire as they paddled away” (Jonas King). 
“ A certain Indian who had obtained some gunpowder told his son to place it 
outside the wigwam safe from all danger. They moved away in the morning, and, 
after travelling all day, were pitching their camp anew when the father said ‘ Where 
is the gunpowder?’ ‘I forgot it,’ the youth replied. His father sent him to recover 
it, although it was then growing dark. Late in the night, as the youth was returning 
with the gunpowder, a crowd of shadows suddenly surrounded him and tried to 
wrest it away from him; but a shadow woman took him by the hand and led him 
through their midst. At daybreak she said to him ' Now let me go.’ He tried to 
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