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      In the moon of Oot naw-'Ch - tah - neh, (January), the supplicant goes to the summit of the highest place in the neighborhood, and turning his face towards the South, speaks thus:
      H oh - yan - nah, Being! Let me be remembered. My clan is of the acorn. White are my feet. I rise on them above the tree word scratched out tops. Minds there can see clearly.  Shake not ours from you, oh Being, ours of the seven clans of the red clay. The Brazen One, who plants an evil eye upon the heart, you have flung into the mire; -- My heart, oh being, you have loved. Let it not slip from your hand."
      With this sentence I had great difficulty. The words of which it is composed in word scratched out Indian are, as nearly I could make out, obsolete and entirely figurative:; a sort of talking in hieroglyphics; which presupposes an intimate knowledge of their customs, their religious mysteries, their modes of thinking, and the latent signification of their antique phrases. The Brazen One, for example, is the only form