We found the lake so surrounded by marshes that we could not get
within an eighth of a mile of the waters. One of our party attempted
to reach it on foot, but could get very little nearer. We made a
circuit of the lake along the slightly elevated ground and could
distinctly see it.

On completing the circle a striking picture met our eyes. Boldly
outlined by the setting sun stood the old man, his hair blown by the
evening breeze, for he had bared his head of the usual kerchief worn
around it, and, with his hand holding the sacred meal extended toward
the glorious sunset, he stood repeating a prayer. We halted, and he
continued his prayer, wholly unconscious of our presence; as he turned
we surprised him. I extended my hand and said, "Now I am happy, for
you are again brave and strong." "Yes," said he, "my heart is glad.
I have looked into the waters of my departed people. I am alive, but
I may die; if I die it is well; my heart is glad." From that moment
the gloom was gone and he was bright and happy. We could not induce
the old man to ascend the mountain of the Kōk-kō with us, as none go
there except certain priests; but the lake is visited by those who are
designated by these priests.

Several days were consumed by us in exploring this immediate vicinity.
On breaking camp, our old Indian guide seemed determined to tarry
behind. I remained with him. As the party rode off he took a large
quantity of food which he had carefully stored away behind a tree--he
having observed an almost absolute fast in order to make a large
offering to the spirits of the departed--and heaped this food upon
the embers of the camp fire, by the side of which he stood for a long
time, supplicating in a most solemn manner the spirits of the departed