neighboring villages also. In the winter of 1635 there was a feast at
the village of Contarrea, where thirty kettles were on the fires, and
twenty deer and four bears were served up. [ Brebeuf, Relation des
Hurons, 1636, 111. ] The invitation was simple. The messenger addressed
the desired guest with the concise summons, "Come and eat"; and to refuse
was a grave offence. He took his dish and spoon, and repaired to the
scene of festivity. Each, as he entered, greeted his host with the
guttural ejaculation, Ho! and ranged himself with the rest, squatted on
the earthen floor or on the platform along the sides of the house.
The kettles were slung over the fires in the midst. First, there was a
long prelude of lugubrious singing. Then the host, who took no share in
the feast, proclaimed in a loud voice the contents of each kettle in turn,
and at each announcement the company responded in unison, Ho! The
attendant squaws filled with their ladles the bowls of all the guests.
There was talking, laughing, jesting, singing, and smoking; and at times
the entertainment was protracted through the day.

When the feast had a medical or mystic character, it was indispensable
that each guest should devour the whole of the portion given him, however
enormous. Should he fail, the host would be outraged, the community
shocked, and the spirits roused to vengeance. Disaster would befall the
nation,--death, perhaps, the individual. In some cases, the imagined
efficacy of the feast was proportioned to the rapidity with which the
viands were despatched. Prizes of tobacco were offered to the most rapid
feeder; and the spectacle then became truly porcine. [ This superstition
was not confined to the Hurons, but extended to many other tribes,
including, probably, all the Algonquins, with some of which it holds in
full force to this day. A feaster, unable to do his full part, might,
if he could, hire another to aid him; otherwise, he must remain in his
place till the work was done. ] These _festins a manger tout_ were much