The men were seated in two rows, face to face.  Feasts of this kind usually consist of but one species of food, and on the present occasion it was an enormous caldron full of maize which had to be devoured.  About fifty sat down to eat a quantity of what may be termed thick porridge that would have been ample allowance for a hundred ordinary men.  Before commencing, San-it-sa-rish desired an aged medicine man to make an oration, which he did fluently and poetically.  Its subject was the praise of the giver of the feast.  At the end of each period there was a general “hou! hou!” of assent—­equivalent to the “hear! hear!” of civilized men.

Other orators then followed, all of whom spoke with great ease and fluency, and some in the most impassioned strains, working themselves and their audience up to the highest pitch of excitement, now shouting with frenzied violence till their eyes glared from their sockets and the veins of their foreheads swelled almost to bursting as they spoke of war and chase, anon breaking into soft modulated and pleasing tones while they dilated upon the pleasures of peace and hospitality.

After these had finished, a number of wooden bowls full of maize porridge were put down between the guests—­one bowl to each couple facing each other.  But before commencing a portion was laid aside and dedicated to their gods, with various mysterious ceremonies; for here, as in other places where the gospel is not known, the poor savages fancied that they could propitiate God with sacrifices.  They had never heard of the “sacrifice of a broken spirit and a contrite heart.”  This offering being made, the feast began in earnest.  Not only was it a rule in this feast that every mouthful should be swallowed by each guest, however unwilling and unable he should be to do so, but he who could dispose of it with greatest speed was deemed the greatest man—­at least on that occasion—­while the last to conclude his supper was looked upon with some degree of contempt!

It seems strange that such a custom should ever have arisen, and one is not a little puzzled in endeavouring to guess at the origin of it.  There is one fact that occurs to us as the probable cause.  The Indian is, as we have before hinted, frequently reduced to a state bordering on starvation, and in a day after he may be burdened with superabundance of food.  He oftentimes therefore eats as much as he can stuff into his body when he is blessed with plenty, so as to be the better able to withstand the attacks of hunger that may possibly be in store for him.  The amount that an Indian will thus eat at a single meal is incredible.  He seems to have the power of distending himself for the reception of a quantity that would kill a civilized man.  Children in particular become like tightly inflated little balloons after a feast, and as they wear no clothing, the extraordinary rotundity is very obvious, not to say ridiculous.  We conclude therefore that unusual powers of gormandizing, being useful, come at last to be cultivated as praiseworthy.