They dress as men, covered with leather from head to foot, a painting of the sun on their breasts.
These women are warriors, but never go out with the parties, remaining always behind to protect the villages.

They also live alone, are dreaded, but not loved.

The Indian hates anything or any body that usurps power, or oversteps those bounds which appear to him as natural and proper, or who does not fulfil what he considers as their intended destiny.
The fine evenings of summer are devoted, by the young Indian, to courtship.

When he has made his choice, he communicates it to his parents, who take the business into their hands.

Presents are carried to the door of the fair one's lodge; if they are not accepted, there is an end to the matter, and the swain must look somewhere else; if they are taken in, other presents are returned, as a token of agreement.