ABSTRACT
ONE day in February I received a formal invitation to be present at the hurum, or wedding feast, at which Bato-Merin’s high-spirited son was to carry off Naidung Taichi’s bashful little daughter. Bato-Merin, the bridegroom’s father, had invited me, and I started for the feast very early, as etiquette required that I should be among those who sent the chief’s son off on his wooing expedition, with which the feast begins.
