The _Indians_ are of lusty and healthful Bodies, not experimentally knowing those Diseases which are incident to other Countreys, as Feavers, Pleurisies, Calentures, Agues, Consumptions, Convulsions, Apoplexies, Dropsies, Gouts, Pox, Measles, or the like, but spin out the thred of their Days to a fair length, numbering sixty, eighty, some a hundred years: But when any one lies a dying, the doleful cries, and throbbing sighs of the Friends and Relations, express unspeakable sorrow; and when the Party is dead and laid in the Ground, they not onely weep and howl for a good space over the Grave, but also keep Annual Solemnities of Mourning, rubbing their Faces with black Lead all about the Eye-brows, and part of their Cheeks; yet do they hold the Immortality of the Soul, in which their _Indian_ Faith jumps much with the _Turkish Alchoran_, dreaming of a certain Paradise, or South-West _Elysium_, wherein they shall everlastingly abide, solacing themselves in odoriferous Gardens, fruitful Corn-fields, green Meadows, bathing their tawny Hides in the cool Streams of pleasant Rivers, and sheltering themselves from Heat and Cold in the sumptuous Palaces fram’d by Nature, concluding, that neither care nor pain shall molest them, but that Natures bounty will administer all things with a voluntary contribution from the Store-house of their _Elysium_; at the Portal whereof, they say, lies a great Dog, whose churlish snarlings deny admission to unworthy Intruders: wherefore it is their custom to bury with them their Bowes and Arrows, and good store of their _Wampompeage_ and _Mowhacks_, the one to affright that affronting _Cerberus_, the other to purchase more immense Prerogatives in their Paradise. For their Enemies and loose Livers, whom they account unworthy of this imaginary Happiness, they say that they pass to the infernal Dwellings of _Abamocho_, to be tortur’d according to the Fictions of the ancient _Heathen_. [Sidenote: Dispositions, Employments, Usage by their Husbands, Apparel, and Modesty of the Women.]