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the hoary locks, the weazen, wrinkled face, and the tremulous, piping voice of old age were to them the insignia of a seer and magician.

A grandmother might rule the camp, were she possessed of a ruling spirit, but there was usually other business that had more attraction for her. She was looked upon as the good angel of the tribe, and passed from camp to camp distributing her blessings. A knowledge of herbs and roots gave her skill in healing the sick, while from her experience and her kind heart she drew consolation for the sad and despondent. She sang to the infants, taught the girls handicrafts and folk-tales, and inspired the braves with stories of the tribe's great dead. And when infirmities increased, and the wearied body refused to longer do her bidding she was still respected and tenderly cared for. Even if she were the last of her clan her kindred all gone she was not forsaken; and in her final hour kind friends were near to comfort and support her, and to fold the hands across the tired heart when it was at rest.

Note.—The accompanying illustrations are typical faces of the modern Wapanakis.