been nearly extinguished; but the traveller throwing pieces of birch-bark into them, now and then, the short-lived flame enabled him to discern the nakedness of the savages around him, and their eyes shining in all directions,--some from without, through cracks in the bark of the lodge.

A little girl now came forward, at one end of the lodge, and danced a few minutes in the common female fashion,-never lifting the feet from the ground, but placing them close together, and keeping time to the thump of the drum by raising the heels, and whirling, first to the right, and then to the left. Then an old woman stood up at the other end of the wigwam, and danced as long in the same manner. Then entered ten or twelve males, who, with bodies naked, and limbs violently agitated and bent, hopped round the lodge, up one side and down the other, yelling at intervals, and increasing the noise by clapping their hands on their mouths.

Suddenly, by throwing dirt and ashes on the fires, the remains of them were wholly extinguished, and for a moment every thing was still. Then the drums beat louder and louder, and the song broke out from a hundred mouths, within and without the lodge, until all ended in one loud and long-drawn savage yell. In the

midst of it, three or four of the company went round the circle, blowing fire from their mouths, sending out thousands of crackling sparks, and by means of them lighting up their own faces, till their distended cheeks had very much the appearance of pocket-lanterns.

The traveller took some pains to ascertain the secret of this fire-eating. As one of the performers approached the place where he sat, he rose, and looked into his mouth rather narrowly. He had, between his teeth, a reed, or some other hollow substance, which had been filled with powder, brimstone and other combustibles, and lighted; and thus he blew out its fiery contents. On discovering the traveller's purpose, he turned short round, and extinguished or concealed the fire,-probably by stopping the ends of his reed.

The same traveller speaks of a religious dance, called the Wabana, occasionally practised by the Chippewas in the way of a sacrifice, and generally followed up with a feast of dog's-flesh. It commenced, with the dancing of a woman and a girl. Then came in a tall fierce-looking Indian,—with a cap of skins on his head, and a mantle of the same,-blowing, staring round the lodge, and uttering at every

breath an eh-ch-ch;-when presently entered a younger Indian, and began a sort of wrestle with the first, as if to make him surrender something in his possession. Pretty soon the older man took up a rattle. The younger followed his example; and both of them marched round the lodge, half bent, stepping to the time, and beating it in the faces of the Indians who sat against the walls of the lodge. Then followed a speech, addressed (as the traveller supposed,) to the Evil Spirit,' the purpose being to appease him, and beg his compassion. The delivery of it was attended with such violent contortions, that the perspiration ran down the performer's face in streams. Then he marched round the lodge again, followed by half a dozen others,-the drums sounding all the while. Some of the company sang, while others looked on and smoked. The ceremonies were kept up till sunrise; and a feast of dog-broth was then brought in, furnished in two kettles, holding about six gallons each. Several of the company were by this time exhausted, and had fallen asleep; but their seats were very willingly taken by volunteers who came in from the neighborhood, with their birch-bark bowls, to get a share of the dog-broth.

The 'pipe-dance' was formerly much practised at the negotiation of treaties of peace. This nearly resembled what has been already described as a begging-dance.'

The war-dances,' the most important of all, are of various descriptions. Sometimes they seem to be intended merely to give the warriors an opportunity of relating their exploits. This they are rather careful to do with some regard to modesty, for fear of giving offence to their comrades. Mr. Heckewelder mentions one conceited fellow who paid very dearly for his arrogant boasting at a war-dance. One of his Delaware rivals, who took offence at his observations, dealt him a blow which put an end at once to his bravadoes and his life.

But generally there is some special object in view, perhaps, to recruit volunteers for a war-party, to represent the plan of the campaign, to give thanks for victory, or to make merry with the torture of a captive; and the dances are named accordingly the recruiting-dance, the discovery-dance, the thanksgiving-dance, and the prisoner-dance.

The discovery-dance is a natural representation of all the principal incidents of war. Among the Canadian tribes, in Charlevoix's