Page:Narrative of the Proceedings of Pedrarias Davila (Haklyut, 34).djvu/63

Rh the origin of these people, nor can they give any, except that they are natives of the country. There was a principal woman of this land who said that there was a belief among the chiefs (for the common people do not talk of these things), that there is a beautiful woman with a child in heaven; but the story goes no further.

The principal wives of the chiefs, whose sons inherit the lordships, have the title of Hespode, besides their own name, as who should say countess or marchioness. It was the custom in the land that, when a chief died, the wives whom it was supposed he loved best, should voluntarily be buried with their husband, and, if the chief had pointed them out, this was done whether they liked it or not. These were girls who had not been legitimate wives. When a chief died, he was adorned with gold, and wrapped in the richest cloths. His heir, who had become the chief, with all the family of his father, and the principal people of the land, then assembled and hung up the chief's body by cords, placing many pans of charcoal round it. The body was melted by the heat of the fire, and two vases were placed underneath, to catch the grease. When it was quite dried, it was hung up in the chief's palace. All the time that the body was being dried, ten of the principal men remained in the palace, where it was, day and night, seated round it, somewhat apart, dressed in black mantles which covered them from head to foot, and concealed the face and the whole body. No other person entered the place where they watched with the dead. These watchers had a drum which gave out a deep sound, and one of them struck blows on it from time to time as a sign of mourning. When he who played on the drum ceased his blows, he commenced a response in the same tone, and all the others with him, and then continued doing this for a long time with much mourning, with their faces covered, as I have already mentioned. Having finished these responses at two hours