old me
that he and a friend chanced once to stroll along through the edge, just
after the new soil had been laid. A friendly chief saw him and
remonstrated, and seemed greatly incensed. He explained that it was
done in ignorance. The chief was pacified, but nevertheless caused every
spot which had been polluted by their unhallowed steps to be uptorn, and
a fresh covering substituted.

The sacred square being ready, every fire in the towns under the
jurisdiction of the head chief is, at the same moment, extinguished.
Every house must also at that moment have been newly swept and washed.
Enmities are forgotten. If a person under sentence for a crime can steal
in unobserved and appear among the worshippers when their exercises
begin, his crime is no more remembered. The first ceremonial is to light
the new fire of the year. A square board is brought, with a small
circular hollow in the center. It receives the dust of a forest tree, or
of dry leaves. Five chiefs take turns to whirl the stick, until the
friction produces a flame. From this sticks are lighted and conveyed to
every house throughout the tribe. The original flame is taken to the
center of the sacred square. Wood is heaped there, and a strong fire
lighted. Over this fire the holy vessels of new-made pottery are placed.
Drinking-gourds, with long handles, are set around on a bench. Appointed
officers keep up an untiring surveillance over the whole, never moving
from the spot; and here what they call the black drink is brewed, with
many forms and with intense solemnity.

Now, then, having rendered you, by these numerous prefaces, much better
informed about the Creek Jerusalem and its paraphernalia than I was when
I got there, I will proceed with my travel story, just as if I had not
enabled you to ponder all that I saw so much more understandingly than I
myself did.

* * * * *

I cannot describe to you my feelings when I first found myself in the
Indian country. We rode miles after miles in the native forest, seeing
neither habitation nor an inhabitant to disturb the solitude and majesty
of the wilderness. At length we met a native in his native land. He was
galloping on horseback. His air was oriental;--he had a turban, a robe
of fringed and gaudily-figured calico, scarlet leggings, and beaded
belts and garters and pouch. We asked how far it was to the Square. He
held up a finger, and we understood him to mean one mile. Next we m