As they came near the village the boys had noticed that in a wood on a little mound there were numerous strange bundles, done up in dried buffalo hides, and tied with leather thongs, reposing on elevated platforms, which they could not make out at all. Fields told them, however, that this was the burial-place of the tribe; and he even pointed to various earthen vessels that were filled with food of a certain kind, resembling succotash. This, he stated, the Mandans believed was necessary, when members of the tribe had recently died, because they would need some sort of nourishment while on their long journey to the Happy Hunting Grounds. "During the night," Fields told them, "of course the hungry wild animals can creep up, and clean out these bowls. The Indians must know this, but they prefer to delude themselves with the idea that the spirit of the dead person has come in the night, and eaten the offering." Being deeply interested, the two boys made a close inspection of the place. In the open center of the burial-place were many skulls formed in a circle, all facing inward. "What can they do that for?" asked Roger, who was hardly able to repress a shudder at the grim sight. "I asked Fields, and he told me that, after the platforms break down, the skulls of the dead persons are preserved, and placed here. Although in life, perhaps, the brave has beaten his squaw many times, after he is gone she can be found here every day, talking to this poor old reminder of his presence on earth. Yes, he said she would caress it, even if, when the brave was alive, he had nothing but blows for her." "Well, they are a queer lot," Roger confessed, "and I suppose whites never could understand them. Ugh! let's get away from here, Dick. We ought to find something more cheerful to look at than this graveyard of mummies." (Note 8.) "I'm wondering why they have so many yellow dogs around," Dick remarked; "but then, all Indians like baked dog; and Fields says they serve them up on any special occasion when they give a great feast. You know they have no regular time for eating, like white people, but wait till they're real hungry, and then just fill up till they look as if they would burst." "Why, yes," Roger went on to say, "Pat O'Mara used to tell about Indians who would go hungry for three days, just to get their appetite good and gnawing, and then start in and eat for two hours. I don't think that would suit me." Tiring at length of peering around among the painted lodges, and seeing the queer sights with which the Indian village seemed to be filled--queer to their eyes, although perfectly natural to the dusky natives who knew no other way of living--the boys finally rejoined the rest of the party.