There is another point about the head flattening which deserves attention. Seeing that it is begun almost in the same hour that the infant is born, and is continued for eight months to a year or more, it might naturally be imagined that it would cause considerable pain to the child, and in many cases be dangerous to life. This, however, is not the case; and that it should not be so is one of the many proofs of the extent to which the human frame may be distorted without permanent injury. Mr. Kane’s remarks are as follows:—

“It might be supposed, from the extent to which this is carried, that the operation would be attended with great suffering to the infant, but I have never heard the infants crying or moaning, although I have seen the eyes seemingly starting out of the sockets from the great pressure. But on the contrary, when the lashings were removed, I have noticed them cry until they were replaced. From the apparent dulness of the children while under pressure, I should imagine that a state of torpor or insensibility is induced, and that the return to consciousness occasioned by its removal must be naturally followed by the sense of pain.”

Should a child die before it is old enough to be released from the cradle, the mother is not released from her maternal duties, but, on the contrary, continues to perform them as assiduously as if the little creature were living.

After the child is buried, she makes a “mourning-cradle,” i. e. in the place which the child had formerly occupied she places a large bundle of black feathers, by way of representative of the deceased infant, and treats it in all respects as if the little one still occupied the cradle. She carries it on her back wherever she goes, and when she rests, stands it upright against a tree or the side of the hut, and talks to it as if to a living child. This custom is continued for at least a year, and in many cases is extended even beyond that period. And, though a bereaved mother may be so poor as scarcely to have sufficient clothing for herself, she will contrive to decorate the cradle of her lost child with the appropriate ornaments.

As a rule, the North American Indians are affectionate parents. Mr. Catlin mentions an instance where he had painted a portrait of a married woman, the daughter of a chief. Some time afterward she died, and the father, happening to see and recognize the portrait of his lost daughter, offered ten horses—an enormous price for an American Indian to pay. Of course the portrait was presented to him at once.

Parental affection is fully reciprocated by the children, and the greatest respect paid by the younger to the elder men. Yet we find even among them, as among so many tribes which lead a semi-nomad existence, the custom of abandoning the sick and aged when they are obliged to make a forced march of any distance.

This is generally done at the instance of the victims themselves, who say that they are old and useless, and can be only an encumbrance to the rest of the tribe. Accordingly, a rude shelter is formed of a bison hide stretched over four upright rods, under which the sick man is laid; a basin of water and some food are placed by his side; and he is left to perish, if not by privation or disease, by the ranging flocks of wolves that roam the prairies.

We will now pass to a more agreeable phase in the life of these tribes, and take a glance at their dances and games.

It has been the prevalent impression that the Indian is taciturn, unsocial, and morose. Mr. Catlin, whose testimony cannot be impeached, takes considerable pains to correct this opinion; and states as the result of his travels among the Indian tribes, that “they are a far more talkative and conversational race than can easily be seen in the civilized world. No one can look into the wigwams of these people, or into any little momentary group of them, without being at once struck with the conviction that small talk, garrulity, story-telling and amusements, are leading passions with them.” To watch their games, and hear their shouts of exultation, in any of their villages, to sit down in their lodges and listen to their jokes, repartee, anecdote and laughter, would effectually banish this erroneous opinion so generally held in regard to the Red Men. With no anxieties for the future—no necessities goading them, it is natural that they should be a merry people, and most of their life be spent in sports and games.