over to barbarism.

The infant child of an Itean mother lay dead in her tent. He was a
beautiful boy, and already the fond mother had read in his brilliant
eye, and the vigorous movements of his tiny limbs, the heroic deeds of
the future chieftain. But her darling hope was nipped in the very germ.
Her only son was shrouded for the grave, and the hour of burial had
come. His shroud was a blanket, in which the head, as well as the body,
was completely enveloped. His bier was a train, or Indian sled, in the
form of a common snow-shoe, on which the body was laid, without a
coffin, and secured by bandages from side to side. Into this train was
harnessed a favorite dog of the family, when it was drawn with slow and
solemn step, to the grave, preceded by the priest or medicine man of the
village, in his gorgeous robes of office, and followed by the parents
and sister of the child, with all the inmates of the neighboring
wigwams.

Arriving at the grave, the procession stopped, and gathered round the
bier, the women and children seating or prostrating themselves on the
ground, the men standing in a grave and solemn circle around them. The
dog, still remaining in his harness, was then shot, and the medicine
man, standing over it, addressed it in the following strain, "Go on your
journey to the Spirit land. Long and weary is the way you have to go.
Linger not on the journey, for precious is the burden you carry. Swim
swiftly over the river, lest the little one be lost in the stream, and
never visit the camp of its fathers. When you come to the camp of the
White-headed Eagle, bark, that they may know who it is you bring, and
come out and welcome the little one among its kindred band."

The body was then laid in the grave, on its little train. The dog was
placed by its side, with a kettle of food at its head, to supply it on
the journey. A cup, containing a portion of the mother's milk, freshly
drawn, was also put into the grave for the use of the child. The earth
was laid gently over it, and covered with the fresh sod, the mother, and
her female friends, chanting, the while, a plaintive dirge, designed to
encourage the spirit of the departed on its dark and perilous journey.
The mother held in her hand a roll of bark, elaborately decorated with
feathers and bead-work, encompassed with a scarf of broadcloth, highly
embroidered. This was intended as a memento of the deceased, to be
sacredly preserved in the family lodge. Such memen