Consumer Behavior Buying Having and Being 12th Edition Solomon Test Bank

Consumer Behavior Buying Having and

Being 12th Edition Solomon Test Bank
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Objective: 2.1: Ethical business is good business.
AACSB: Ethical understanding and reasoning

2
Copyright © 2017 Pearson Education, Inc.
5) The process of curation refers to what product(s)?
A) Art
B) Travel
C) Food
D) All of the above
Answer: D
Diff: 2
Objective: 2.1: Ethical business is good business.

6) Which of the following values is most associated with materialists?

A) Honesty
B) Status C)
Loyalty D)
Frugality
Answer: B
Diff: 1
Objective: 2.1: Ethical business is good business.

7) Neiman Marcus and Whole Foods are examples of .

A) materialism
B) provenance
C) ego directed products
D) none of the above
Answer: D
Diff: 3
Objective: 2.1: Ethical business is good business.
AACSB: Application of knowledge

8) Business ethics are rules of conduct published by the Better Business Bureau that guide
actions in the marketplace.
Answer: FALSE
Diff: 2
Objective: 2.1: Ethical business is good business.

9) Materialism refers to the importance people attach to the fabric used in their clothing.
Answer: FALSE
Diff: 1
Objective: 2.1: Ethical business is good business.
AACSB: Ethical understanding and reasoning

10) Materialistic values tend to focus on the individual rather than a group or family.
Answer: TRUE
Diff: 1
Objective: 2.1: Ethical business is good business.
AACSB: Ethical understanding and reasoning

3
Copyright © 2017 Pearson Education, Inc.
11) Discuss how materialism has changed in meaning.
Answer: New materialism is thought to be less about status and more about an appreciation for
design and quality. Old materialism was about flaunting affluence while new materialists may
hide it. Old materialists preferred designer labels while the new materialists value unknown
producers.
Diff: 1
Objective: 2.1: Ethical business is good business.
AACSB: Application of knowledge

12) If you are unhappy with a product or service, what are your three possible courses of action?
Answer: You may use a voice response, private response, or third-party response. The voice
response is the best for the marketer because it enables a correction to the problem.
Diff: 1
Objective: 2.1: Ethical business is good business.
AACSB: Application of knowledge

13) Explain the three key legislative acts affecting consumers.

Answer: These acts are located in Table 2.2
Diff: 2
Objective: 2.1: Ethical business is good business.

14) Explain why advertising is necessary.

Answer: Advertising helps to communicate products' availability and usefulness.
Diff: 3
Objective: 2.1: Ethical business is good business.

15) When consumers are unhappy with a product, they boycott the product and/or store and
express dissatisfaction to friends. This is called response.
A) private
B) third-party
C) voice D)
public
Answer: A
Diff: 1

Objective: 2.2: Marketers have an obligation to provide safe and functional products as part of
their business activities.

4
Copyright © 2017 Pearson Education, Inc.
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 “‘Alas! alas! dead is my chief!
Dead is my lord and my friend!
My friend in the season of famine,
My friend in the time of drought,
My friend in my poverty,
My friend in the rain and the wind,
My friend in the heat and the sun,
My friend in the cold from the mountain,
My friend in the storm,
My friend in the calm,
My friend in the eight seas.
Alas! alas! gone is my friend,
And no more will return!’

“Other exhibitions of a similar kind I witnessed at Mani. After the

death of Keopuolani we frequently saw the inhabitants of a whole
district that had belonged to her coming to weep on account of her
death. They walked in profound silence, either in single file or two or
three abreast, the old people leading the van and the children
bringing up the rear. They were not covered with ashes, but almost
literally clothed in sackcloth. No ornament, or even decent piece of
cloth, was seen on any one. Dressed only in old fishing nets, dirty
and torn pieces of matting, or tattered garments, and these
sometimes tied on their bodies with pieces of old canoe ropes, they
appeared the most abject and wretched of human beings I ever saw.
When they were within a few hundred yards of the house where the
corpse was lying they began to lament and wail. The crowds of
mourners around the house opened a passage for them to approach
it, and then one or two of their number came forward and, standing a
little before the rest, began a song or recitation, showing her birth,
rank, honours, and virtues, brandishing a staff or piece of sugar-
cane, and accompanying their recitation with attitudes and gestures,
expressive of the most frantic grief. When they had finished they sat
down and mingled with the thronging multitudes in their loud and
ceaseless wailing.”
Though these ceremonies were so popular, and almost universal,
on the decease of their chiefs, they do not appear to have been
practised by the common people among themselves. The wife did
not knock out her teeth on the death of her husband, nor the son his
when he lost his father or mother, neither did parents thus express
their grief when bereaved of an only child. Sometimes they cut their
hair, but in general only indulged in lamentations and weeping for
several days.
Ellis, the Polynesian traveller, makes mention of a singular
building seen by him in Hawaii, called the Hare o Keave (the House
of Keave), a sacred depository of the bones of departed kings and
princes, probably erected for the reception of the bones of the king
whose name it bears, and who reigned in Hawaii about eight
generations back. It is, or was when Mr. Ellis saw it, a compact
building, twenty-four feet by sixteen, constructed with the most
durable timber, and thatched with ti leaves, standing on a bed of lava
that runs out a considerable distance into the sea. It is surrounded
by a strong fence or paling, leaving an area in the front and at each
end about twenty-four feet wide. The pavement is of smooth
fragments of lava, laid down with considerable skill. Several rudely-
carved male and female images of wood were placed on the outside
of the enclosure, some on low pedestals under the shade of an
adjacent tree, others on high posts on the jutting rocks that hung
over the edge of the water. “A number stood on the fence at unequal
distances all round; but the principal assemblage of these frightful
representatives of their former deities was at the south-east end of
the enclosed space, where, forming a semi-circle, twelve of them
stood in grim array, as if perpetual guardians of the mighty dead
reposing in his house adjoining. A pile of stones was neatly laid up in
the form of a crescent, about three feet wide and two feet higher
than the pavement, and in this pile the images were fixed. They
stood on small pedestals three or four feet high, though some were
placed on pillars eight or ten feet in height, and curiously carved. The
principal idol stood in the centre, the others on either hand, the most
powerful being placed nearest to him; he was not so large as some
of the others, but distinguished by the variety and superior carvings
of his body, and especially of his head. Once they had evidently
been clothed, but now they appeared in the most indigent
nakedness. A few tattered shreds round the neck of one that stood
on the left hand side of the door, rotted by the rain and bleached by
the sun, were all that remained of numerous and gaudy garments
with which their votaries had formerly arrayed them. A large pile of
broken calabashes and cocoa-nut shells lay in the centre, and a
considerable heap of dried and partly rotten wreaths of flowers,
branches and shrubs, and bushes and fragments of tapa (the
accumulated offerings of former days), formed an unsightly mound
immediately before each of the images. The horrid stare of these
idols, the tattered garments upon some of them, and the heaps of
rotting offerings before them, seemed to us no improper emblems of
the system they were designed to support, distinguished alike by its
cruelty, folly, and wretchedness.”
Mr. Ellis endeavoured to gain admission to the inside of the
house, but was told it was tabu roa (strictly prohibited), and that
nothing but a direct order from the king or high priest could open the
door. However, by pushing one of the boards across the doorway a
little on one side, he looked in, and saw many large images, some of
wood very much carved, and others of red feathers, with distended
mouths, large rows of sharks’ teeth, and pearl-shell eyes. He also
saw several bundles, apparently of human bones, cleaned carefully,
tied up with cinet made of cocoa-nut fibres, and placed in different
parts of the house, together with some rich shawls and other
valuable articles, probably worn by those to whom the bones
belonged, as the wearing apparel and other personal property of the
chiefs is generally buried with them. When he had gratified his
curiosity, and had taken a drawing of the building and some of its
appendages, he proceeded to examine other remarkable objects of
the place.
Adjoining the Hare o Keave to the southward, he found a Pahio
tabu (sacred enclosure) of considerable extent, and was informed by
his guide that it was one of the Pohonuas of Hawaii, of which he had
often heard the chiefs and others speak. There are only two on the
island—the one which he was then examining, and another at
Waipio on the north-east part of the island, in the district of Kohala.
These Pohonuas were the Hawaiian cities of refuge, and afforded
an inviolable sanctuary to the guilty fugitive, who, when flying from
the avenging spear, was so favoured as to enter their precincts.
They had several wide entrances, some on the side next the sea, the
others facing the mountains. Hither the manslayer, the man who had
broken a tabu, or failed in the observance of its rigid requirements,
the thief, and even the murderer, fled from his incensed pursuers,
and was secure. To whomsoever he belonged, and from whatever
part he came, he was equally certain of admittance, though liable to
be pursued even to the gates of the enclosure. Happily for him,
those gates were perpetually open; and, as soon as the fugitive had
entered, he repaired to the presence of the idol, and made a short
ejaculatory address, expressive of his obligations to him in reaching
the place with security. Whenever war was proclaimed, and during
the period of actual hostilities, a white flag was unfurled on the top of
a tall spear at each end of the enclosure; and until the conclusion of
peace waved the symbol of hope to those who, vanquished in fight,
might flee thither for protection. It was fixed a short distance from the
walls on the outside, and to the spot on which this banner was
unfurled the victorious warrior might chase his routed foes, but here
he must himself fall back; beyond it he must not advance one step,
on pain of forfeiting his life; the priests and their adherents would
immediately put to death any one who should have the temerity to
follow or molest those who were once within the pale of the pahio
tabu, and, as they expressed it, under the shade or protection of the
spirit of Keave, the tutelar deity of the place.
In one part of the enclosure, houses were formerly erected for the
priests, and others for the refugees, who, after a certain period, or at
the cessation of war, were dismissed by the priests, and returned
unmolested to their dwellings and families, no one venturing to injure
those who, when they fled to the gods, had been by them protected.
Mr. Ellis could not learn the length of time it was necessary for them
to remain in the Pohonuas, but it did not appear to be more than two
or three days. After that they either attached themselves to the
service of the priests, or returned to their homes.
 CHAPTER XXVIII.

A Samoan inquest—Carrying a body about—Embalming in Samoa—

Samoan grave fires—Catching a spirit—New Zealand burial
customs—The Sexton in Borneo—Dayak funerals—Funeral
customs of the Sea Dayaks—Tombs in the air—Exorcising the
evil spirit—Cruel treatment of widows—The “village of the
dead”—The place of skulls—Praying to the dead—Ojibbeway
mourners—Disposing of the property of the dead—A Chippewa
ghost story—An invisible presence—A spirited ghost—Veneration
for the dead—A royal funeral—The death dance—The last of the
“Stung Serpent.”
n Samoa, another of the Polynesian islands, it is considered a
disgrace to the family of an aged chief if he is not buried
alive· “When an old man feels sick and infirm,” says the
missionary Turner, “and thinks he is dying, he deliberately
tells his children and friends to get all ready and bury him.
They yield to his wishes, dig a round deep pit, wind a number of fine
mats round his body, and lower down the poor old heathen into his
grave in a sitting posture. Live pigs are then brought and tied, each
with a separate cord, the one end of the cord to the pig and the other
to the arm of the old man. The cords are then cut in the middle,
leaving the one half hanging at the arm of the old man, and off the
pigs are taken to be killed and baked for the burial feast. The old
man, however, is still supposed to take the pigs with him to the world
of spirits. The greater the chief the more numerous the pigs, and the
more numerous the pigs the better the reception in their Hades of
heathenism. The poor old man thus wound up, furnished with his pig
strings, and covered over with some more mats, is all ready. His
grave is then filled up, and his dying groans are drowned amid the
weeping and the wailing of the living.
“This revolting custom of burying alive is, as I have noted, not
confined to infants and the aged. If a person in sickness shows signs
of delirium, his grave is dug, and he is buried forthwith, to prevent
the disease spreading to other members of the family. A young man
in the prime of life was thus buried lately. He burst up the grave and
escaped. He was caught and forced into the grave again. A second
time he struggled to the surface, and they led him to the bush,
lashed him fast to a tree, and left him there to die.
“Whenever the eye is fixed in death the house becomes a scene
of indescribable lamentation and wailing. ‘Oh! my father, why did you
not let me die, and you live here still?’ ‘Oh! my brother, why have you
run away and left your only brother to be trampled upon?’ ‘Oh! my
child, had I known you were going to die! Of what use is it for me to
survive you?’ These and other doleful cries may be heard two
hundred yards from the house; and as you go near you find that they
are accompanied by the most frantic expressions of grief, such as
rending garments, tearing the hair, thumping the face and eyes,
burning the body with small piercing firebrands, beating the head
with stones till the blood runs; and this they called an ”offering of
blood for the dead.” Every one acquainted with the historical parts of
the Bible will here observe remarkable coincidences. After an hour or
so, the more boisterous wailing subsides, and, as in that climate the
corpse must be buried in a few hours, preparations are made without
delay. The body is laid out on a mat oiled with scented oil, and, to
modify the cadaverous look, they tinge the oil for the face with a little
turmeric. The body is then wound up with several folds of native
cloth, the chin propped up with a little bundle of the same material,
and the face and head left uncovered, while for some hours longer
the body is surrounded by weeping relatives. If the person has died
of a complaint which has carried off some other members of the
family, they will probably open the body to search for the disease.
Any inflamed substance they happen to find they take away and
burn, thinking that this will prevent any other members of the family
being affected with the same disease. This is done when the body is
laid in the grave.
“While a dead body is in the house no food is taken under the
same roof. The family have their meals outside, or in another house.
Those who attended the deceased were formerly most careful not to
handle food, and for days were fed by others as if they were helpless
infants. Baldness and the loss of teeth were supposed to be the
punishment inflicted by the household, if they violated the rule.
Fasting was common at such times, and they who did so, ate
nothing during the day, but had a meal at night, reminding us of what
David said when mourning the death of Abner: ‘So do God to me
and more also, if I taste bread or aught else till the sun be down.’
The fifth day was a day of purification. They bathed the face and
hands with hot water, and then they were clean, and resumed the
usual time and mode of eating.
“The death of a chief of high rank was attended with great
excitement and display: all work was suspended in the settlement;
no stranger dared to pass through the place. For days they kept the
body unburied, until all the different parties connected with that
particular clan assembled from various parts of the island, and until
each party had in turn paraded the body, shoulder high, through the
village, singing at the same time some mournful dirge. The body, too,
was wrapped up in the best robe, viz., the most valuable fine mat
clothing which the deceased possessed. Great respect is still shown
to chiefs on these occasions, and there was a recent instance of
something like a thirty days’ mourning; but the body is seldom
paraded about the settlements now-a-days.
“The burial generally takes place the day after death. As many
friends as can be present in time attend. Every one brings a present;
and the day after the funeral, these presents are all so distributed
again as that every one goes away with something in return for what
he brought. Formerly, the body was buried without a coffin, except in
the cases of chiefs; but now it is quite common to cut off the ends of
some canoe belonging to the family, and make a coffin of it. The
body being put into this rude encasement, all is done up again in
some other folds of native cloth, and carried on the shoulders of four
or five men to the grave. The friends follow, but in no particular order;
and at the grave again there was often further wailing, and
exclamations such as, “Alas! I looked to you for protection, but you
have gone away! why did you die! would that I had died for you!”
Since the introduction of Christianity, all is generally quiet at the
grave. The missionary, or some native teacher appointed by him,
attends, reads a portion of Scripture, delivers an address, and
engages in prayer, that the living may consider and prepare for the
time to die. The grave is called the last resting place; and in the case
of chiefs the house is thatched with the leaves of sandal wood,
alluding to the custom of planting some tree with pretty foliage near
the grave. Attempts have been made to get a place set apart as the
village burying-ground, but it is difficult to carry it out. All prefer laying
their dead among the ashes of their ancestors, on their own
particular ground. As the bones of Joseph were carried from Egypt to
Canaan, so did the Samoans carry the skulls of their dead from a
land where they had been residing during war, back to the graves of
their fathers as soon as possible after peace was proclaimed. The
grave is often dug close by the house. They make it about four feet
deep; and, after spreading it with mats like a comfortable bed, there
they place the body, with the head to the rising of the sun and the
feet to the west. With the body they deposit several things which
may have been used to answer the purpose of a pickaxe in digging
the grave; not that they think these things of any use to the dead, but
it is supposed that if they are left and handled by others, further
disease and death will be the consequence. Other mats are spread
over the body, on these a layer of white sand from the beach, and
then they fill up the grave.
 A Samoan Sepulchre.
“The spot is marked by a little heap of stones a foot or two high.
The grave of a chief is nearly built up in an oblong slanting form,
about three feet high at the foot and four at the head. White stones
or shells are intermixed with the top layer; and if he has been a
noted warrior, his grave may be surrounded with spears, or his gun
laid loosely on the top.”
Embalming, the same authority informs us, is known and
practised with surprising skill in one particular family of Samoan
chiefs. Unlike the Egyptian method, as described by Herodotus, it is
performed in Samoa exclusively by women. The viscera being
removed and buried, they day after day anoint the body with a
mixture of oil and aromatic juices, and they continue to puncture the
body all over with fine needles. In about two months the process of
desiccation is completed. The hair, which had been cut off and laid
aside at the commencement of the operation, is now glued carefully
on to the scalp by a resin from the bush. The abdomen is filled up
with folds of native cloth, the body is wrapped up with the same
material, and laid out on a mat, leaving the hands, face, and head
exposed.
A house is built for the purpose, and there the body is placed with
a sheet of native cloth loosely thrown over it. Now and then the face
is oiled with a mixture of scented oil and turmeric, and passing
strangers are freely admitted to see the remains of the departed. At
present there are four bodies laid out in this way in a house
belonging to the family to which we refer—viz., a chief, his wife, and
two sons. They are laid on a platform, raised on a double canoe. It
must be upwards of thirty years since some of them were embalmed,
and although thus exposed they are in a remarkable state of
preservation. They assign no particular reason for this embalming,
further than that it is the expression of their affection to keep the
bodies of the departed still with them as if they were alive.
On the evening of the burial of any important chief, his friends
kindled a number of fires at a distance of some twenty feet from
each other, near the grave, and there they sat and kept them burning
till morning light. This was continued sometimes for ten days after
the funeral; it was also done before the burial. In the house where
the body lay, or out in front of it, fires were kept burning all night by
the immediate relatives of the departed. The common people had a
similar custom. After burial they kept a fire blazing in the house all
night, and had the space between the house and the grave so
cleared as that a stream of light went forth all night from the fire to
the grave. Whether this had its origin in any custom of burning the
dead body, like the ancient Greeks, it is impossible now to ascertain.
The probability, however, is that it had not. The account the
Samoans give of it, is, that it was merely a light-burning in honour of
the departed, and a mark of tender regard: just as we may suppose
the Jews did after the death of Asa, when it is said they made a very
great burning for him. Those commentators who hold that this and
one or two other passages refer to a Jewish mark of respect, and not
to the actual burning of the body, have in the Samoan custom which
we have just named a remarkable coincidence in their favour.
The unburied occasioned great concern. “No Roman,” says Mr.
Turner, “was ever more grieved at the thought of his unburied friend
wandering a hundred years along the banks of the Styx than were
the Samoans, while they thought of the spirit of one who had been
drowned, or of another who had fallen in war, wandering about
neglected and comfortless. They supposed the spirit haunted them
everywhere night and day, and imagined they heard it calling upon
them in a most pitiful tone, and saying, ‘Oh! how cold; oh! how cold.’
Nor were the Samoans, like the ancient Romans, satisfied with a
mere tumulus-inanis (or empty grave), at which to observe the usual
solemnities; they thought it was possible to obtain the soul of the
departed in some tangible transmigrated form. On the beach, near
where a person had been drowned, or on the battle-field, where
another fell, might be seen sitting in silence a group of five or six,
and one a few yards in advance, with a sheet of native cloth spread
out on the ground before him. Addressing some god of the family, he
said, ‘Oh! be kind to us; let us obtain without difficulty the spirit of the
young man.’ The first thing that happened to light upon the sheet
was supposed to be the spirit. If nothing came, it was supposed that
the spirit had some ill-will to the person praying. That person after a
time retired, and another stepped forward, addressed some other
god, and waited the result. By-and-bye something came—
grasshopper, butterfly, ant, or whatever else it might be; it was
carefully wrapped up, taken to the family, the friends assembled, and
the bundle buried with all due ceremony, as if it contained the real
spirit of the departed.”
The burial, like all other customs of the New Zealanders, are very
singular. Very little, however, was known concerning them until a
recent date. At the time Captain Cook visited the country, everything
connected with the disposal of their dead was concealed from him by
the natives.
It is now known, however, that the dead bodies of slaves were
thrown into holes or into the sea, or buried under the poles
supporting houses; but the dead bodies of free persons were ever
held in high respect. It was only, however, at the death of chiefs that
the funeral rites of the people were celebrated. A chief on his death
bed was surrounded by most of his relatives, his last words were
treasured up, and the resignation with which the dying man
submitted to his fate suggested to the mind that he died of his own
will. The moment the vital spark fled, its departure was bewailed with
doleful cries: abundance of water was shed in the form of tears, and
the spectators groaned, sighed, and seemed inconsolable. But all
was hollow, except with the immediate relatives of the deceased,
and a specimen of the talent of the New Zealanders for
dissimulation. Men, women, and children cut themselves with shells,
and slaves were slain to attend on the dead in the next world, and in
revenge for his death. Since the introduction of fire-arms, guns are
fired off at the death of chiefs.
Twenty-four hours after death the body was washed and beaten
with flax-leaves, to drive away evil spirits. Priests then dressed the
corpse. The legs were bent, the body placed in a sitting attitude, the
hair tied in a lump on the crown of the head, and ornamented with
albatross feathers; garlands of flowers were wound round the
temples, tufts of white down from a sea-bird’s breast were stuck in
the ears, the face was smeared with red ochre and oil, and the whole
body, save the head, enveloped in a fine mat. In this condition,
surrounded with his weapons of war, the bones and preserved heads
of his ancestors, the dead chief sat in state; and as the complexion
of the skins of the natives alters little after death, there was a life-like
appearance in the whole scene. Certain birds were sacrificed to the
gods. Tribes from a distance visited the dead. Wisps of the long toitoi
grass placed in the dead warrior’s hands were grasped by friends,
and flattering laments, of which the following is a good specimen,
were sung in his honour:—
 “Behold the lightning’s glare:
It seems to cut asunder Tuwhara’s rugged mountains.
From thy hand the weapon dropped,
And thy bright spirit disappeared
Beyond the heights of Rauhawa.
The sun grows dim, and hastes away,
As a woman from the scene of the battle.
The tides of the ocean weep as they ebb and flow,
And the mountains of the south melt away,
For the spirit of the chieftain
Is taking its flight to Kona.
Open ye the gates of the heavens—
Enter the first heaven, then enter the second heaven,
And when thou shalt travel the land of spirits,
And they shall say to thee, ‘What meanest this?’
Say’st thou, the winds of this our world
Have been torn from it in the death of the brave one,
The leader of our battles.
Atutahi and the stars of the morning
Look down from the sky.
The earth reels to and fro,
For the great prop of the tribes lies low,
Ah! my friend, the dews of Kokianga
Will penetrate the body;
The waters of the rivers will ebb out,
And the land be desolate.”

Dead chiefs sat in state until they gave out an ill odour. Then their
bodies were wrapped in mats, put into canoe-shaped boxes along
with their meris, and deposited on stages nine feet high, or
suspended from trees in the neighbourhood of villages, or interred
within the houses where they died. Here, after daylight, for many
weeks the nearest relatives regularly bewailed their death with
mournful cries. Persons tapued from touching the dead were now
made clean. Carved wooden ornaments, or rude human images
twenty or forty feet high, not unlike Hindoo idols, were erected on the
spots where the bodies were deposited. Mourning head dresses
made of dark feathers were worn; some mourners clipped half their
hair short, and people talked of the dead as if they were alive.
 The bodies were permitted to remain about half a year on the
stages, or in the earth, after which the bones were scraped clean,
placed in boxes or mats, and secretly deposited by priests in
sepulchres, on hill tops, in forests, or in caves. The meris and
valuable property of chiefs were now received by their heirs. To
witness this ceremony of the removal of bones neighbouring tribes
were invited to feasts, called the hahunga; and for several
successive years afterwards hahungas were given in honour of the
dead, on which occasions skulls and preserved heads of chiefs were
brought from sepulchres, and adorned with mats, flowers, and
feathers. Speeches and laments delivered at hahungas kept chiefs’
memories alive, and stimulated the living to imitate the dead.
In Borneo when a Dayak dies the whole village is tabooed for a
day; and within a few hours of death the body is rolled up in the
sleeping mat of the deceased, and carried by the “Peninu,” or sexton
of the village, to the place of burial or burning. The body is
accompanied for a little distance from the village by the women,
uttering a loud and melancholy lament. In one tribe—the Pemujan—
the women follow the corpse a short way down the path below the
village to the spot where it divides, one branch leading to the burning
ground, the other to the Chinese town of Siniawau. Here they mount
upon a broad stone and weep, and utter doleful cries till the sexton
and his melancholy burden have disappeared from view. Curiously
enough, the top of this stone is hollowed, and the Dayaks declare
that this has been occasioned by the tears of their women, which,
during many ages, have fallen so abundantly and so often as to wear
away the stone by their continual dropping.
In Western Sarawak the custom of burning the dead is universal.
In the district near the Samarahan they are indifferently burnt or
buried, and when the Sadong is reached, the custom of cremation
ceases, the Dayaks of the last river being in the habit of burying their
dead. In the grave a cocoa nut and areca nut are thrown; and a
small basket and one containing the chewing condiments of the
deceased are hung up near the grave, and if he were a noted warrior
a spear is stuck in the ground close by. The above articles of food
are for the sustenance of the soul in his passage to the other world.
 The graves are very shallow, and not unfrequently the corpse is
rooted up and devoured by wild pigs. The burning also is not
unfrequently very inefficiently performed. “Portions of bones and
flesh have been brought back by the dogs and pigs of the village to
the space below the very houses of the relatives,” says Mr. St. John.
“In times of epidemic disease, and when the deceased is very poor,
or the relatives do not feel inclined to be at much expense for the
sexton’s services, corpses are not unfrequently thrown into some
solitary piece of jungle not far from the village, and there left. The
Dayaks have very little respect for the bodies of the departed, though
they have an intense fear of their ghosts.
“The office of sexton is hereditary, descending from father to son;
and when the line fails, great indeed is the difficulty of inducing
another family to undertake its unpleasant duties, involving, as it is
supposed, too familiar an association with the dead and with the
other world to be at all beneficial. Though the prospect of fees is
good, and perhaps every family in the village offers six gallons of
unpounded rice to start the sexton in his new and certainly useful
career, it is difficult to find a candidate. The usual burying fee is one
jav, valued at a rupee; though if great care be bestowed on the
interment, a dollar is asked; at other places as much as two dollars is
occasionally demanded.”
On the day of a person’s death a feast is given by the family to
their relations: if the deceased be rich, a pig and a fowl are killed; but
if poor, a fowl is considered sufficient. The apartment and the family
in which the death occurs are tabooed for seven days and nights,
and if the interdict be not rigidly kept, the ghost of the departed will
haunt the place.
Among the Sea Dayaks, as we are likewise informed by Mr. St.
John, human bodies are usually buried, although, should a man
express a wish to share the privilege of the priests, and be, like
them, exposed on a raised platform, his friends are bound to comply
with his request.
Immediately after the breath has left the body, the female relations
commence loud and melancholy laments; they wash the corpse and
dress it in its finest garments, and often, if a man, fully armed, and
bear it forth to the great common hall, where it is surrounded by its
friends to be mourned over. In some villages a hireling leads the
lament, which is continued till the corpse leaves the house. Before
this takes place, however, the body is rolled up in clothes and fine
mats, kept together by pieces of bamboo tied on with rattans, and
taken to the burial-ground. A fowl is then killed as a sacrifice to the
spirit who guards the earth, and they commence digging the grave
from two and a half to four and a half feet deep, according to the
person’s rank: deeper than five feet would be unlawful. Whilst this
operation is going on others fell a large tree, and cutting off about six
feet, split it in two, and hollow out the pieces with an adze. One part
serves as a coffin and the other as the lid; the body is placed within,
and the two are secured together by means of strips of pliable cane
wound round them.
After the coffin is lowered into the grave, many things belonging to
the deceased are cast in, together with rice, tobacco, and betel-nut,
as they believe they may prove useful in the other world.
It was an old custom, but now falling into disuse, to place money,
gold and silver ornaments, clothes, and various china and brass
utensils in the grave; but these treasures were too great temptation
to those Malays who were addicted to gambling, and the rifling of the
place of interment has often given great and deserved offence to the
relations. As it is almost impossible to discover the offenders, it is
now the practice to break in pieces all the utensils placed in the
grave, and to conceal as carefully as possible the valuable
ornaments.
The relatives and bearers of the corpse must return direct to the
house from which they started before they may enter another, as it is
unlawful or unlucky to stop, whatever may be the distance to be
traversed. Sea Dayaks who fall in battle are seldom interred, but a
paling is put round them to keep away the pigs, and they are left
there. Those who commit suicide are buried in different places from
others, as it is supposed that they will not be allowed to mix in the
“Seven-storied Sabayau,” or Paradise, with such of their fellow-
countrymen as come by their death in a natural manner, or through
the influence of the spirits.
Black is the sign of mourning among the Indians of North
America, as among us; but among these savage populations grief is
manifested by other signs than the gloomy colour of the dress. The
Crows cut part of their hair on the death of a relation. The widows of
the Foxes, as a sign of mourning, remain several months without
changing their clothes, or paying any other attention to their dress.
This custom is common to many tribes of the north. Among the
Shahonees and several other of the western population, those who
have lost one of their relatives manifest their grief by inflicting on
themselves mutilations and wounds. The mourning of an Indian for
the loss of a relative continues for at least six months. It generally
consists in neglecting his person, and painting his face black. A
widow will generally mourn the loss of her husband for a year. During
all this time she appears sincerely affected, never speaking to any
one unless she is forced to do so from necessity or propriety. She
always seeks solitude, and desires to remain alone, in order to
abandon herself more freely to her affliction. After her mourning is
over, she resumes her best garments, and paints herself as
coquettishly as possible, in order to find another husband.
The customs observed in the burial of the dead differ in different
tribes. The only observance common to them all is the singular one
of painting the corpses black. The Omahas swathe the bodies with
bandages made of skins, giving them the appearance of Egyptian
mummies. Thus enveloped they are placed in the branches of a tree,
with a wooden vase full of dried meat by their side, and which from
time to time is renewed. The Sioux bury their dead on the summit of
a hill or mountain, and plant on the tomb a cedar tree, which may be
seen from afar. When no natural elevation exists, they construct a
scaffolding two or three yards high.
The Chinooks, says the Abbé Dominech (from whose account of
Indian burial customs this description is chiefly derived), and some
other populations of Columbia and Oregon, have a more poetical
custom. They wrap the bodies of their dead in skins, bind their eyes,
put little shells in their nostrils, and dress them in their most beautiful
clothes; they then place them in a canoe, which is allowed to drift at
the pleasure of the winds and currents, on a lake, a river, or on the
Pacific Ocean.
When there is neither lake nor river nor sea near the village, the
funeral canoe is attached to the branches of the loftiest trees. These
aërial tombs are always so placed that the wild animals cannot reach
them; the favourite spots are solitary and wooded islands. These
sepulchral canoes are often moored in little bays, under shady trees
whose thick foliage overhang them like a protecting dome. There are
islands on the large rivers of Columbia where as many as twenty or
thirty of these canoes are attached to the cedars and birches on the
banks.
Not far from Columbia is a rock which serves as a cemetery for
the people of the neighbourhood. One perceives, on examining this
village of death, that the tribes of fishermen bestow the same
religious care on the dead as do the various tribes of hunters. In one
case, as in the other, the favourite objects he used while alive are
placed by his side in death. In Columbia, the oar and the net lie by
the fisherman in his funereal canoe; in the Great Prairies, the lance,
the bow and arrows, and often the war-horse, are buried in the grave
with the hunter. To the east as to the west of the Rocky Mountains,
the savages venerate, respect, and take care of their friends and
relatives even after death. The lamentations and prayers of the
survivors are heard each day at dawn and dusk wherever there are
tombs.
In New Mexico the whites have singularly modified the customs of
the Indians; what remains of their ancient practices bears the
impress at once of the superstitious character of the natives, and of
the habits of the Spaniards. Thus, the inhabitants of Pueblo de
Laguna, who are half Christians, half followers of Montezuma, wrap
the body of the deceased in his ordinary garments, lay him in a
narrow grave of little depth, and place bread and a vase of water
near him. They then throw huge stones upon him with such violence
as to break his bones, with the notion that any evil spirit remaining in
the carcase may be driven out in the process.
 The Sacs and Foxes place their dead, wrapped in blankets or
buffalo skins, in rude coffins made out of old canoes or the bark of
trees, and bury them; if the deceased was a warrior, a post is
erected above his head, painted with red lines, indicating the number
of men, women, and children he has killed during his life, and who
are to be his slaves in the land of shadows.
The Tahkalis burn the bodies of their dead. The medicine-man
who directs the ceremony makes the most extraordinary
gesticulations and contortions, for the purpose, as he pretends, of
receiving into his hands the life of the deceased, which he
communicates to a living person by laying his hands on his head,
and blowing on him; the person thus endowed takes the rank of the
deceased, whose name he adds to that he bore previously. If the
dead man had a wife, she is obliged to lay down on the funeral pyre
while it is set on fire, and to remain there till she is almost suffocated
with smoke and heat. Formerly, when a woman endeavoured to
escape this torture, she was carried to the fire and pushed in, to
scramble out how she might. When the corpse is consumed it is the
duty of the widow to collect the ashes, place them in a basket and
carry them away. At the same time she becomes the servant of her
husband’s family, who employ her in all sorts of domestic drudgery,
and treat her very ill. This servitude continues during two or three
years, at the expiration of which period the relatives of deceased
assemble to celebrate the “feast of deliverance.” At this solemnity a
pole five or six yards in height is fixed in the ground, to sustain the
basket containing the ashes of the deceased, which remain thus
exposed till the pole, destroyed by time and the elements, falls down.
The widow then recovers her liberty, and can marry again.
Mr. Paul Kane, in his “Wanderings of an Artist,” describes much
such a ceremony as observed by him in New Caledonia, which is
east of Vancouver’s Island and north of Columbia. Among the tribe
called “Taw-wa-tius,” and also among other tribes in their
neighbourhood, the custom prevails of burning the bodies, with
circumstances of peculiar barbarity to the widows of the deceased.
The dead body of the husband is laid naked upon a large heap of
resinous wood; his wife is then placed upon the body, and covered
over with a skin; the pile is then lighted, and the poor woman is
compelled to remain until she is nearly suffocated, when she is
allowed to descend as best she can through the flames and smoke.
No sooner, however, does she reach the ground, than she is
expected to prevent the body from becoming distorted by the action
of the fire on the muscles and sinews; and wherever such an event
takes place, she must with her bare hands restore the burning body
to its proper position, her person being the whole time exposed to
the intense heat. Should she fail in the performance of this
indispensable rite, from weakness or the intensity of her pain, she is
held up by some one until the body is consumed. A continual singing
and beating of drums is kept up throughout the ceremony, which
drowns her cries.
Afterwards she must collect the unconsumed pieces of bone and
the ashes, and put them in a bag made for the purpose, and which
she has to carry on her back for three years; remaining for a time a
slave to her husband’s relations, and being neither allowed to wash
nor comb herself for the whole time, so that she soon becomes a
very unpleasant object to behold. At the expiration of three years a
feast is given by her tormentors, who invite all the friends and
relations of her and themselves. At the commencement they deposit
with great ceremony the remains of the burnt dead in a box, which
they affix to the top of a high pole, and dance round it. The widow is
then stripped and smeared from head to foot with fish-oil, over which
one of the bystanders throws a quantity of swans’-down, covering
her entire person. After this she is free to marry again, if she have
the inclination and courage enough to venture on a second risk of
being roasted alive and the subsequent horrors.
It has often happened that a widow, who has married a second
husband in the hope perhaps of not outliving him, commits suicide in
the event of her second husband’s death, rather than undergo a
second ordeal.
 A Mandan Chief.
Among the Mandans, another tribe of North American Indians,
burial is unknown. A tract of land is set apart, and is known to all the
tribes as the “village of the dead.” When a Mandan dies he is
wrapped in the hide of a freshly-slaughtered buffalo, which is
secured by thongs of new hide. Other buffalo skins are soaked until
they are soft as cloth, and in these the already thoroughly enveloped
body is swathed till the bulk more resembles a bale of goods packed
for exportation than a human body. Within the bundle are placed the
man’s bow and quiver, shield, knife, pipe and tobacco, flint and steel,
and provisions enough to last him some time “on his long journey.”
Then his relatives bear him on their shoulders, and carry him to the
cemetery, “where,” says Catlin, “are numerous scaffolds, consisting
of four upright poles some six or seven feet in height. On the top of
these are small poles passing around from one corner post to
another; across these are placed a row of willow rods, just strong
enough to support the body.”

Mandan Place of Skulls.

On this scaffold, and with his feet towards the rising sun, the
Mandan is laid, and he is not disturbed till the scaffold poles decay,
and the buffalo coffin, still containing the Mandan’s bones, falls to the
earth. Then the relatives of the deceased, having received notice of
the circumstance, once more assemble at the cemetery and, digging
a hole, bury the bones—all except the skull; for this is reserved a
separate ceremony.
Apart from the willow biers may be seen circles of skulls,
numbering from fifty to a hundred, each about nine inches from its
neighbour, and with the face turned towards the centre. In this
ghastly cordon room is made, and the newly fallen skull added
thereto, and ever after regarded with the rest as an object of
veneration, not only by those who can claim with it family
acquaintance, but by the whole tribe. “Very frequently,” says Catlin,
“the traveller may observe a wife, or maybe a mother, of this sad
remnant of mortality sitting down by the side of the skull of its
departed husband or child, talking to it in the most endearing tones,
and even throwing herself down to embrace it, the while bewailing
with loud and incessant cries; very often too they will cut and hack
themselves with knives as a punishment for any offence they may
have given their relative while alive.”
Among the Ojibbeways, as soon as the man is dead, they array
him in his best clothes, and as soon as possible place him in a coffin.
If this latter article is not available, he is wrapped in the best skins or
blankets the tent furnishes. A hole about three feet deep is dug, and
generally within twelve hours of his decease the man is buried, with
his head towards the west. By the side of his body is placed his
former hunting and war implements, such as his bow and arrow,
tomahawk, gun, pipe and tobacco, knife, pouch, flint and steel,
medicine-bag, kettle, trinkets, and other articles which he carried
with him when going on a long journey. The grave is then covered,
and on the top of it poles or sticks are placed lengthways, to the
height of about two feet, over which birch bark or mats form a
covering to secure the body from the rain. The relations or friends of
the deceased then sit on the ground in a circle round the head of the
grave, when the usual offering to the dead, consisting of meat, soup,
or the fire-waters, is made. This is handed to the people present in
bowls, a certain quantity being kept back for a burnt offering. While
this is preparing at the head of the grave, the old man, or speaker for
the occasion, makes a prayer to the soul of the departed,
enumerating his good qualities, imploring the blessing of the dead
that his spirit may intercede for them, that they may have plenty of
game; he also exhorts his spirit to depart quietly from them. They
believe that the soul partakes of a portion of the feast, and especially
that which is consumed by fire. If the deceased was a husband, it is
often the custom for the widow, after the burial is over, to spring or
leap over the grave, and then run zigzag behind the trees, as if she
were fleeing from some one. This is called running away from the
spirit of her husband, that it may not haunt her. In the evening of the
day on which the burial has taken place, when it begins to grow dark,
the men fire off their guns through the hole left at the top of the
wigwam. As soon as this firing ceases, the old women commence
knocking and making such a rattling at the door as would frighten
away any spirit that would dare to hover near. The next ceremony is
to cut into narrow strips like ribbon, thin birch bark. These they fold
into shapes, and hang round inside the wigwam, so that the least
puff of wind will move them. With such scarecrows as these, what
spirit would venture to disturb their slumbers? Lest this should not
prove effectual, they will also frequently take a deer’s tail, and after
burning or singeing off all the hair, will rub the necks or faces of the
children before they lie down to sleep, thinking that the offensive
smell will be another preventive to the spirit’s entrance. “I well
remember,” says the Rev. Peter Jones, a Christianised Ojibbeway
and missionary, “when I used to be daubed over with this
disagreeable fumigation, and had great faith in it all. Thinking that
the soul lingers about the body a long time before it takes its final
departure, they use these means to hasten it away.
“I was present at the burial of an old pagan chief by the name of
Odahmekoo, of Muncey Town. We had a coffin made for him, which
was presented to his relatives; but before they placed the body in it,
they bored several holes at the head, in order, as they supposed, to
enable the soul to go in and out at pleasure.
“During the winter season, when the ground is frozen as hard as a
rock two or three feet deep, finding it almost impossible to penetrate
through the frost, having no suitable tools, they are obliged to wind
up the corpse in skins and the bark of trees, and then hang it on the
fork of a large tree, high enough to be beyond the reach of wolves,
foxes, and dogs, that would soon devour it. Thus the body hangs till
decomposition takes place, and the bones, falling to the ground, are
afterwards gathered up and buried.
“Immediately after the decease of an Indian all the near relatives
go into mourning, by blackening their faces with charcoal, and
putting on the most ragged and filthy clothing they can find. These
they wear for a year, which is the usual time of mourning for a
husband or wife, father or mother.
“At the expiration of a year the widow or widower is allowed to
marry again. Should this take place before the year expires, it is
considered, not only a want of affection for the memory of the dead,
but a great insult to the relations, who have a claim on the person
during the days of the mourning. The first few days after the death of
the relative are spent in retirement and fasting; during the whole of
their mourning they make an offering of a portion of their daily food
to the dead, and this they do by putting a part of it in the fire, which
burns while they are eating. I have seen my poor countrymen make
an offering of the fire-waters to the departed: they deem this very
acceptable, on account of its igniting the moment it touches the fire.
Occasionally they visit the grave of the dead, and there make a feast
and an offering to the departed spirit: tobacco is never forgotten at
these times. All the friends of the dead will for a long time wear
leather strings tied round their wrists and ankles, for the purpose of
reminding them of their deceased relative.”
It is a custom always observed by widows to tie up a bundle of
clothes in the form of an infant, frequently ornamented with silver
brooches. This she will lie with and carry about for twelve months, as
a memorial of her departed husband. When the days of her
mourning are ended, a feast is prepared by some of her relatives, at
which she appears in her best attire. Having for the first time for a
twelvemonth washed herself all over, she looks once more neat and
clean.
The Shahonees bury their dead with everything belonging to
them. The Comanches generally bury a warrior with his arms and his
favourite horse; formerly his wives also shared the same fate, but
this custom has disappeared. Whilst the Sioux put striking marks on
their tombs that they may be easily distinguished, the Comanches
cover them with grass and plants to keep them concealed. Among
the tribes of the west the warriors are still sometimes buried on
horseback, wrapped in their richest dress, with bow in hand, buckler
on arm, the quiver full of arrows slung behind, the pipe and the
medicine-bag hanging to the belt, and supplied with a provision of
tobacco and dried meat sufficient for the voyage to the enchanted
prairies.
The Assineboins, like several other tribes of the great American
desert, never bury their dead, but suspend them by thongs of leather
between the branches of the great trees, or expose them on
scaffoldings sufficiently high to place the body out of reach of the
voracious wild animals. The feet of the corpse are turned towards
the rising sun; and when the scaffoldings fall through old age, the
bones are collected and burned religiously within a circle formed of
skulls. The sacred deposit is guarded, as among the Mandans, by
medicine-trees or posts, from which amulets or medicine-bags are
suspended.
On the death of a member of their tribe, the Potowatomies, the
Ottawas, and several other people of the north, distribute all the
things which belonged to the deceased to his friends. Some of them
are Catholics, and these fix on the tomb a great pole, at the summit
of which floats a banner ornamented with a black cross. Among
these same tribes, when a married man or woman dies, the survivor
pays the debt of the body by giving money, horses, and other
presents to the relatives of the deceased. The Ottawas sacrifice a
horse on the tomb of the dead; they strangle the animal by means of
a noose, then cut off its tail and suspend it to stakes fixed on the
tomb. The women of the Crows also pay the debt of the dead by
making incisions deep in their own flesh. The Chippewas are in the
habit of lighting large fires on the tombs of members of their family
for several nights after the funeral.
As to the origin of this last-mentioned custom nothing is known;
but there exists among the Chippewas a legend which may be worth
the reader’s perusal as throwing some light on the subject.
 “Once upon a time, many years ago, a war raged between the
Chippewas and their enemies, and the lands of the hostile tribes
were red with blood. It was then that a party of the Chippewas met a
band of their foes upon an open plain in the country of the Great
Lakes. Meteewan, the leader of the Chippewas, was a brave; his
martial deeds were the song of every youth who looked to obtain
renown in the warpath; and the young squaws talked of them at the
fires. And never did the chief act with more bravery or prudence than
on this occasion. After he had, by the strength of his arm, turned the
battle against his enemies, and while he was giving the great shout
of victory, an arrow quivered in his breast, and he fell upon the plain.
No Indian warrior killed thus is ever buried. According to old custom,
he was placed in a sitting posture upon the field of battle, his back
supported by a tree, and his face turned towards the path in which
his enemies had fled. His spear and club were placed in his hands,
and his bow and quiver leaned against his shoulder. So they left him.
 “He heard them recount their valiant deeds.”
“But was he gone to the land of spirits? Though he could not
move, nor speak, he heard all that had been said by his friends. He
heard them bewail his death and could not comfort them; he heard
them speak of his great deeds; he heard them depict the grief of his
wife when she should be told he was dead. He felt the touch of their
hands, but his limbs were bound in chains of strength, and he could
not burst them. His thoughts flowed as free as the great rivers; but
his limbs were like the fallen branches. His anguish, when he felt
himself thus abandoned, was heavy; but he was compelled to bear
it. His wish to follow his friends who were about to return to their
wigwams so filled his mind, that, after making a violent exertion, he
rose, or seemed to rise, and followed them.
But he was invisible; they neither saw his form nor heard his
voice. Astonishment, disappointment, rage filled him, while he
attempted to make himself heard, seen, or felt, and could not; but
still he followed on their track. “Wherever they went, he went; when
they walked, he walked; when they ran, he ran; when they built their
fires, and sat down, his feet were in the embers; when they slept, he
slept; when they awoke, he awoke. He heard them recount their
valiant deeds, but he was unable to tell them how much his own
exceeded theirs; he heard them paint the joys which awaited their
return to their wigwams, but could not say how much peace and how
much love was in his.
“At length the war-party reached their village, and the women and
children came out to welcome their return. The old warrior whom
weakness had compelled to throw down the bow and the spear, and
the eagle-eyed boy who was fast hastening to take them up, did
each his part in making joy. The wife came forward with embraces,
the timid maiden with love weighing on her eyelids, to meet their
braves. And if an old warrior found not his son, he knew he had
fallen bravely, and grieved not; and if the wife found not her
husband, she wept only a little while: for was he not gone to the
great Hunting Grounds?
“Still no one seemed conscious of the presence of the wounded
chief. He heard many ask for him; he heard them say that he had
fought, conquered, and fallen, pierced through his breast with an
arrow, and that his body had been left among the slain.
“‘It is not true,’ replied the indignant chief with a loud voice. ‘I am
here; I live! I move! See me! touch me! I shall again raise my spear
and bend my bow in the war path; I shall again sound my drum at
the feast.’ But nobody knew of his presence; they mistook the
loudest tones of his voice for the softest whisperings of the winds.
He walked to his own lodge; he saw his wife tearing her hair, and
bewailing him. He endeavoured to undeceive her, but she also was
insensible to his presence or his voice. She sat despairing, with her
head upon her hands. He told her to bind up his wounds, but she
made no reply. He then placed his mouth close to her ear and
shouted, ‘Give me food.’ The wife said, ‘It is a fly buzzing.’ Her
enraged husband struck her upon the forehead. She placed her
hand to her head and said, ‘It is a little arrow of pain.’
“Foiled thus in every attempt to make himself known, the chief
began to think upon what he had heard the priests and wise men
say, that the spirit sometimes left the body, and might wander. He
reflected that possibly his body had remained upon the field of battle,
while his spirit only accompanied his returning companions. He
determined then to return upon their track, though it was four days’
journey. He went. For three days he pursued his way, and saw
nothing; but on the fourth, at evening, as he came to the skirts of the
battle-field, he saw a fire in the path. He walked on one side to avoid
stepping into it, but the fire also went aside, and was still before him.
He went another way, but the fire still burned in his path. ‘Demon!’ he
exclaimed at length, ‘why dost thou keep my feet from the field of
battle, where my body lies? Knowest thou not that I am a spirit also,
and seek again to enter that body? Or dost thou say I shall return
and do it not? Know that I am a chief and a warrior, well tried in
many a hard battle—I will not be turned back.’
“So saying, he made a vigorous effort, and passed through the
flame. In this exertion he awoke from his trance, having lain eight
days on the field. He found himself sitting on the ground, with his
back to a tree, and his bow leaning against his shoulder, the same
as they had been left. Looking up, he beheld a large canieu, a war-
eagle, sitting upon the tree above his head. Then he knew this bird
to be the same he had dreamed of in his youth, and which he had
taken as his guardian spirit, his Manitou. While his body had lain
breathless, this friendly bird had watched it. He got up and stood
upon his feet; but he was weak, and it was a long time before he felt
that his limbs were his. The blood upon his wound had stanched
itself; he bound it up. Possessing, as every Indian does, the
knowledge of medicinal roots, he sought diligently in the woods for