nd the more religious you have become.

Pat was sacrilegious enough to steal a skull in order to get the teeth,
which he wanted as souvenirs. I was chagrined and shocked at Pat's lack
of religious propriety. However, I was enticed into accepting one of the
teeth after Pat had knocked them out and stolen them.

"How do they worship bears and kill them at the same time?" I queried
the guide.

"That's a part of the worship. They kill the bear, slowly singing and
chanting as they kill him. They think that the spirit of every bear that
they kill comes into their own souls. That's why they kill so many. That
seventy-year-old rascal over there has killed a hundred. He is a great
man in his tribe."

"If I was a bear," commented Pat, "I'd rather they wouldn't worship me.
That's a funny way to show reverence to a god. I'd rather be their devil
and live than be their god and die." Pat is sometimes loquacious. "They
dance about the poor old bear as they kill him. One fellow will hurl an
arrow into his side, and then cry out, 'O spirit of the great bear-god,
come enter into me, and make me strong and brave like you! Come, take up
thine abode in my house! Come, be a part of me! Let thy strength and thy
courage be my strength and my courage!'"

"Then," said the interpreter, "he hurls another arrow into him."

"And what is Mr. Bear doing all that time?"

"Mr. Bear is helpless. He is captured first in a trap, and then kept and
fattened for the killing. He is tied to a tree during the killing
ceremony."

"All I gotta say is that they're darned poor sports," said Flintlock
with indignation. "They're poor sports not to give Mr. Bear a fighting
chance."

And old Flintlock has voiced the sentiments of the entire party.

Everybody that was at the Panama Pacific International Exposition will
remember the magnificent statue of an Indian there. This Indian was
riding a horse, and both were worn out and drooping. A spear which
dragged on the ground in front of the pony was further evidence of the
weariness of the horse and rider. The title of this Fraser bronze was
"The End of the Trail," and it was intended to tell the story of a
vanishing race, the American Indians. But even more could that picture
tell the story of the Ainus of Japan.

"They will be entirely extinct in a quarter of a century," our guide
said. "They are going fast. They used to be vigorous and militant, as
Japanese mythology shows. They were a fighting race. They b