with especial tenderness, and carefully kept from the dogs, lest the
spirit of the dead beaver, or his surviving brethren, should take
offence. [ This superstition was very prevalent, and numerous examples
of it occur in old and recent writers, from Father Le Jeune to Captain
Carver. ] This solicitude was not confined to animals, but extended to
inanimate things. A remarkable example occurred among the Hurons,
a people comparatively advanced, who, to propitiate their fishing-nets,
and persuade them to do their office with effect, married them every year
to two young girls of the tribe, with a ceremony more formal than that
observed in the case of mere human wedlock. [ 1 ] The fish, too, no less
than the nets, must be propitiated; and to this end they were addressed
every evening from the fishing-camp by one of the party chosen for that
function, who exhorted them to take courage and be caught, assuring them
that the utmost respect should be shown to their bones. The harangue,
which took place after the evening meal, was made in solemn form; and
while it lasted, the whole party, except the speaker, were required to
lie on their backs, silent and motionless, around the fire. [ 2 ]

[ 1 There are frequent allusions to this ceremony in the early writers.
The Algonquins of the Ottawa practised it, as well as the Hurons.
Lalemant, in his chapter "Du Regne de Satan en ces Contrees" (Relation
des Hurons, 1639), says that it took place yearly, in the middle of
March. As it was indispensable that the brides should be virgins,
mere children were chosen. The net was held between them; and its spirit,
or oki, was harangued by one of the chiefs, who exhorted him to do his
part in furnishing the tribe with food. Lalemant was told that the
spirit of the net had once appeared in human form to the Algonquins,
complaining that he had lost his wife, and warning them, that, unless
they could find him another equally immaculate, they would catch no more
fish. ]