H. C. Yarrow

Biographical details

H. C. Yarrow An Introduction to the mortuary customs of the North American Indians

I have seen few things in life so touching as the spectacle of an old father going daily to the grave of his child, while the shadows are lengthening, and pouring out his grief in wails that would move a demon, until his figure melts with the gray twilight, when, silent and solemn, he returns to his desolate family. The weird effect of this observance is sometimes heightened, when the deceased was a grown-up son, by the old man kindling a little fire near the head of the scaffold, and varying his lamentations with smoking in silence.
Source: Gutenberg

H. C. Yarrow An Introduction to the mortuary customs of the North American Indians

Why not let him keep his custom! In the gorgeous landscapes and balmy climate of California and India incremation is as natural to the savage as it is for him to love the beauty of the sun. Let the vile Esquimaux and the frozen Siberian bury their dead if they will; it matters little, the earth is the same above as below, or to them the bosom of the earth may seem even the better; but in California do not blame the savage if he recoils at the thought of going under ground!
Source: Gutenberg

H. C. Yarrow A Further Contribution to the Study of the Mortuary Customs of the North American Indians

A Yo-kaí-a mother who has lost her babe goes every day for a year to some place where her little one played when alive, or to the spot where the body was burned, and milks her breasts into the air. This is accompanied by plaintive mourning and weeping and piteous calling upon her little one to return, and sometimes she sings a hoarse and melancholy chant, and dances with a wild static swaying of the body.
Source: Gutenberg

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