THIS IS FOR HUNTING BIRDS.

Listen! O Ancient White, where you dwell in peace I have come to rest.

Now let your spirit arise. Let it (the game brought down) be buried

in your stomach, and may your appetite never be satisfied. The red

hickories have tied themselves together. The clotted blood is your

recompense.

Seventh Annual Report of the Bureau of Ethnology to the Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution, 1885-1886, Government Printing Office, Washington, 1891 · 第 309 / 361 题