The shaman was, like all the others, painted black; a tall plume taken from an eagle rose behind each ear; the left hand carried a rattle; and a little drum was suspended from his shoulder.

As soon as he arrived, one of the warriors retired to a spot which was almost hedged in by several bushy cedar-trees.

There he built a fire, and as soon as it burned he covered it in such a manner that only a thin film of smoke arose from it.

To this smouldering heap the shaman proceeded alone and sat down.
There he spent the night, muttering incantations and prayers, shaking his rattle, and striking the drum softly from time to time.
The sounds that proceeded from his discordant music were so faint that they could be heard only in close proximity.

They were besides the only human sound in this wilderness.