otis and pachydesma shell beads
encircled their necks, and around their waists were belts heavily
loaded with the same material. Their head-dresses were more showy
than those of the men. The head was encircled with a bandeau of
otters' or beavers' fur, to which were attached short wires standing
out in all directions, with glass or shell beads strung on them, and
at the tips little feather flags and quail plumes. Surmounting all
was a pyramidal plume of feathers, black, gray, and scarlet, the top
generally being a bright scarlet bunch, waving and tossing very
beautifully. All these combined gave their heads a very brilliant
and spangled appearance.

The first day the dance was slow and funereal, in honor of the
Yo-kai-a chief who died a short time before. The music was mournful
and simple, being a monotonous chant in which only two tones were
used, accompanied with a rattling of split sticks and stamping on a
hollow slab. The second day the dance was more lively on the part of
the men, the music was better, employing airs which had a greater
range of tune, and the women generally joined in the chorus. The
dress of the women was not so beautiful, as they appeared in
ordinary calico. The third day, if observed in accordance with
Indian custom, the dancing was still more lively and the proceedings
more gay, just as the coming home from a Christian funeral is apt to
be much more jolly than the going out.

A Yo-kai-a widow's style of mourning is peculiar. In addition to the
usual evidences of grief, she mingles the ashes of her dead husband
with pitch, making a white tar or unguent, with which she smears a
band about two inches wide all around the edge of the hair (which is
previously cut off close to the head), so that at a little distance
she appears to be wearing a white chaplet.

It is their custom to "feed the spirits of the dead" for the space
of one year by going daily to places which they were accustomed to
frequent while living, where they sprinkle pinole upon the ground.
A Yo-kai-a mother who has lost her babe goes every day for a year to
some place where her little one played when alive, or to the spot
where the body was burned, and milks her breasts into the air. This
is accompanied by plaintive mourning and weeping and piteous calling
upon her little one to return, and sometimes she sings a hoarse and
melancholy chant, and dances with a