A few cotton handkerchiefs, of a gay pattern, tied about the neck, and suffered to fall over the shoulder; strips of fanciful calico, swathed about the loins, were nearly all I saw.
Indeed, throughout the valley, there were few things of any kind to be seen of European origin.

All I ever saw, besides the articles just alluded to, were the six muskets preserved in the Ti, and three or four similar implements of warfare hung up in other houses; some small canvas bags, partly filled with bullets and powder, and half a dozen old hatchet-heads, with the edges blunted and battered to such a degree as to render them utterly useless.

These last seemed to be regarded as nearly worthless by the natives; and several times they held up, one of them before me, and throwing it aside with a gesture of disgust, manifested their contempt for anything that could so soon become unserviceable.
But the muskets, the powder, and the bullets were held in most extravagant esteem.

The former, from their great age and the peculiarities they exhibited, were well worthy a place in any antiquarian's armoury.

I remember in particular one that hung in the Ti, and which Mehevi--supposing as a matter of course that I was able to repair it--had put into my hands for that purpose.