Outside, to the east of the sacred window and at a little distance, is the _nusa_, or “sacred hedge,” a line or group of willow sticks set in the ground, from the upper ends of which hang curls of shavings, usually shaved from the sticks themselves. Such shaved sticks, called _inao_, play an important part in the life and religion of the Ainu. The _nusa_ is sacred and strangers should not meddle with it or with single _inao_, nor pass between the _nusa_ and the east window. Nor ought people to look in through the east window or throw things out from the house through it. _Inao_ are also used inside the house. The one of chief importance stands in the very northeast corner of the house and ought never to be removed from its place. Even shaving curls, cut completely from their stick have their value and are tied to, wrapped about, or laid upon, articles in the treasure corner. _Inao_ are also set up by the springs of water, by the storehouses, and even near the outhouses or places of relief. In all these cases, they serve as guardians or charms with magic power. [Illustration: TREASURES HUNG IN NORTHEAST CORNER OF HOUSE.] We did not tarry long at Lower Piratori, but continued our journey to Upper Piratori, which is close by. In fact, formerly, there was a continuous village but a migration of the middle part of the town has left the extremes separated and now they bear distinct names. The little Japanese inn is in the centre of Upper Piratori and we were soon comfortably installed. Piratori is, of all Ainu towns, the best known to the outside world and many travelers—Miss Bird, Landor, Fincke,—have described it and pictured its chief, old Penri. The old man died in December last. When Mr. Batchelor first came to Piratori, years ago, he lived in Penri’s house, having the southeast corner partitioned off for his use. Here he began to study the language and to collect the materials for his dictionary. The old house still stands, though now occupied by a Japanese family, and we photographed it, with Mr. Batchelor near the south doorway, in memory of old times. At the time of his death, Penri lived in another house, which we visited. The widow, on seeing us began to weep, in token of her bereavement; this she would be expected to do, on first seeing a friend after her husband’s death, even if a much longer time had passed after the event. Somewhat to our surprise she let us take away an _inao_ placed at the west door in connection with the funeral and mourning. [Illustration: NUSA: NEPTANI.]