tremble beneath the beating of their feet. They wind in and out and turn in every direction, right and left, in an admirable confusion, keeping time with the deafening sound of the wild music.
The dance is always followed by a feast. The guests usually being numerous, it takes place in the open on the place of their meeting. A circle is formed about the boiling kettles and the roasting meat, which are more or less nu merous according to the number invited. Every guest carries his plate or dish. The master of ceremonies chosen for the occasion is he who has received the most dangerous wounds in war. Eg-gha-kata-matscha, or Mean Deer, is today the head of the society. He received a bullet in a fight with his enemies, which passed through his right arm and all his chest; still he recovered. In the dance it is he who rises first and sets the pace. After the dance it is he again who first touches the boiling kettles and the roasting
meats. Each number of the band helps himself after him and the invited guests follow. Every one eats and does honor to his piece and drinks his soup and coffee amid the most joyous and animated conversation.
Permit me to add the remark that the dances of the Indians (except the Scalp dance, which really makes one shudder) are generally modest and innocent. The sexes are never mingled. The men dance by themselves and the women form a ring around them. These savage dances certainly exceed in propriety many dances in civilized countries.