being devoted to festivals, dances, and public councils. The affairs of the nation were transacted only in a general council.

In these assemblies, in which the Indian took great delight, strict order was kept. Seated in a semicircle on the ground, painted and tattooed, the chiefs adorned with feathers, with the beak of the red-bird or the claws of the bear, they smoked in silence, and listened attentively to the speaker. There was no war of words, no discord. They used tobacco in all their important assemblies, and the pipe was the symbol of peace.

A common emblem, called the totem, consisting of the figure of some beast, bird, or reptile, formed the distinguishing mark of the tribes or smaller clans, serving the same purpose with them as the family name does with us. The tortoise, the bear, the beaver, the turtle, and the wolf were the totems of the "first families." The figure representing the totem of his tribe was tattooed upon the Indian's breast. The spirit of the animal was supposed es

pecially to favor the clan thus represented.

Marriage could not

be contracted between kindred of near degree, or families having the same totem. Husband and wife in the same family must be of different clans If the presents of the lover to the father of his intended were accepted, she became his wife, though neither may have spoken to the other, and for a while the husband had a home in her father's lodge.

The presents

INDIAN COUNCIL.

have been known to be returned and the match broken off because there was no powder-horn sent.

A peculiar method of match-making prevails among the Moquis of New Mexico-a simple, happy, and most hospitable people. There the fair one selects the youth who pleases her, and her father proposes the match to the sire of the fortunate swain. Such is the gallantry of the

sterner sex in this region that the proposition is never refused. The preliminaries being arranged, the young man on his part furnishes two pairs of moccasins, two fine blankets, two mattresses, and two of the sashes used at the feast, while the maiden for her share provides an abundance of

INDIAN CRADLE.

eatables, and the marriage is celebrated by feasting and dancing.

The love of the Indian mother for her offspring is strong and constant, yet her treatment of her child during infancy seems to us cruel and unfeeling. To the cradle made of thin pieces of light wood, and ornamented with porcupine's quills, beads, and rattles, the infant, carefully wrapped in

furs, is securely tied. Thus bandaged, it is carried by the mother, its back to hers, or, while she works in the field, is suspended from the limb of a tree. In this way the future warrior takes his first lesson in endurance. The patience and quiet of the Indian child in this close confinement are quite wonderful. Children are left pretty much to themselves; their assistance in household labor is voluntary, and they are seldom scolded or beaten.

The strength of the paternal tie among the Indians is seen in the act of Bianswah, a Chippewa chief, as related by Schoolcraft. In his absence from home his son was captured by a hostile band. On reaching his wigwam the old man heard the terrible news, and, knowing what the fate of his son would be, he followed on the trail of the enemy alone, and reached their village while they were preparing to roast their captive alive. Stepping boldly into the arena, he offered to take his son's place.

"My son," said he, "has seen but a few winters; his feet have never trod the war-path; but the hairs of my head are white; I have hung many scalps over the graves of my relatives which I have taken from the heads of your warriors; kindle the fire about me, and send my son home to my lodge." The offer was accepted, and the old chief suffered torture to save his son.

Filial devotion is finely illustrated in the story of Nadowaqua, the daughter of a chief who lived in the vicinity of Michilimackinac. This chief, known as Le Grand Sable, was able, politic, and brave. He had been a warm friend of the French, and was one of the prominent actors in the memorable capture of old Fort Michilimackinac in 1763, related farther on.

Many years afterwards, when he had become quite aged, he accompanied his relatives, in the month of March, on their annual journey to the forests which yield the sugar-maple. After this season, which is one of enjoyment with the Indians, was over, and they had packed their effects to return, it was found that the old chief was unable to sustain the journey.

His daughter Nadowaqua determined to carry him on her shoulders to his wigwam. For this purpose she took her long stout deer-skin apekun, or head-strap, and, fastening it around his body, bent herself strongly forward under the load, then rose under the pious burden, and took the path to Lake Michigan. It is usual to put down the burdens at fixed points or resting-places on the way. In this manner she brought her father safely to the shore of the lake, a distance of ten miles!

The feat of Æneas in carrying Anchises on his shoulders through the flames of Troy is rivalled here by that of a simple Algonkin woman.

Most of the hard work is done by the women, in order that the bodies of the men may be kept supple and active for the purposes of war and the chase. The Indian had no cow or domestic beast of burden, and regarded all labor as degrading and fit only for women. His wife was his slave. With rude implements she cultivated the ground and reaped the harvest, while he amused himself playing, gambling, singing, eating, or sleeping. In their journeys the poles of the wigwam are borne upon her shoulders. Much of her time is occupied in making moccasins and in quill work.

The Indian's amusements were running, leaping, wrestling, paddling, shooting at a mark, games of ball and with small stones, dances and feasts. His chief resource from inactivity was gambling. He would stake his arms, the furs that covered him, his stock of winter provisions, his cabin, his wife, even his own freedom, on the chances of play. Among their field-sports one of the commonest is the casting of stones, in which they attain astonishing skill and precision. Their dances were numerous, and formed part of their religious observances and warlike preparations, as well as merry-makings. The women generally danced apart.

The fleeka, or arrow-dance, practised by the Pueblo Indians in Arizona, is a picturesque performance. One of the braves is led up in front of his

friends, who are drawn up in two ranks. Here he is placed upon one knee, his bow and arrow in his hand, when the Malinchi, a handsomely attired young girl, commences the dance. From her right wrist hangs the skin of a silver-gray fox, and bells that jingle with every motion are fixed at the end of her embroidered scarf.

At first she dances along the line in front, and by her movements shows that she is describing the war-path. Slowly and steadily she pursues; suddenly her step quickens; she has come in sight of the enemy. The brave follows her with his eye, and, by the motion of his head, implies that she is right. She dances faster and faster; suddenly she seizes an arrow from him, and now by her frantic gestures it is plain that the fight has begun in earnest. She points with the arrow, shows how it wings its course,