When this is finished they recommence cutting their legs and howling, calling on the deceased by the tie of relationship which bound them, thus: “My brother” or “my son,” adding, “remain in peace where you are; let your spirit go to the south and not be troubled; we will feast you; do not visit us in spirit; you are happy; and we are miserable.” These words are not distinguishable on account of the noise, and most probably muttered; as, having witnessed many of these funerals in every way, we have never heard any other words than lamentations; but they say they do pronounce them either mentally or very low, and that if it is neglected some more of their relatives will die; consequently we are bound to believe they utter these and other words in an audible voice. At this stage of affairs his war horse is led under the tree and shot, in addition to which, among the Crow Indians, a finger or two of each of the near relatives are chopped off and the blood smeared over their faces, left to dry there, and remain until it wears off. The deceased’s shield, lance, or other implement, too long or unwieldy to be enveloped with the body, are now tied at his head on the tree, and the mourners retire. Some of the near relatives, however, often remain all day and night, naked and barefoot, exposed to cold, snow, or rain, for several days and nights without eating until they are completely exhausted, and for a year or more afterwards wear nothing but an old torn skin, which, with their bodies and faces, is smeared over with white clay, and present a miserable appearance.