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The Fraternity of Medicine Men.

Chapter Eight Contents.

The Fraternity of Medicine-Men-Life at Trading Post-A Medicine Feast-Spiritual Communion-Indian Medicines-Periodical Poisons and their Queer Effects-The Curious Contents of a Medicine bag-Totems-The Medicine Men-The Cures they Perform-Medical Students-A Queer Ceremony-Initiation by Torture-Indian Spiritualism-A Total Wreck-An Aboriginal Medical College-The Conjuror's Legerdemain-Old Prob-Mysterious Power.

To the traveller detained long at a trading post of the Hudson's Bay Company, the monotony of the existence becomes irksome in the extreme. The scenery about the stockade is generally limited to a boundless view of the level prairie on three sides, and a meagre one of the river on whose banks it stands. The daily routine of life within the walls, which contributes to distract the attention of the post officials, comes to have an appalling sameness to the mere looker-on. It is then that the consumption of tobacco becomes something alarming, and that the mind grasps at the most trivial incident as a means of appeasing its weariness. The fit of one's moccasins is a matter to be thought seriously about, and the composition of one's dinner is a subject of deep contemplation.


Medecine Man.
Medicine man and patient.

This hibernal torpor, as it may be called, generally sets in more acutely in the autumnal months, when the increasing cold half locks the rivers in ice, forbidding the use of canoe or boat, and drives the sportsman from the plains with its frigid breath. It continues with but little cessation until midwinter when trappers and Indians arrive with the first of the winter's catch of furs. True, there are occasional times of bustle, created by the arrivals and departures which constantly take place in a country where locomotion may be said to be the normal condition of the people. But this temporary excitement only serves to plunge one into corresponding depths of depression when it is over, and the sameness of life afterward becomes absolutely funereal. Everything readable in the scanty library is read so often that it seems to one as if he could close his eyes and repeat the whole collection verbatim; the acquaintance of all the livestock is cultivated until one may be said to possess the intimacy of every dog and cat in the post, and the autobiographies of all the officers and servants are heard so repeatedly that one feels competent to reproduce them in manuscript in the event of their decease.

Fortunately, during this season of inactivity occurs the annual celebration of a festival peculiar to a mystic brotherhood permeating the nomadic people roundabout. Each autumn the fraternity of medicine men celebrate the dog feast in the vicinity of the principal trading stations.

An enclosure about forty feet long by twenty-five broad, fenced in with branches of trees, is laid off on the prairie. It is situated east and west and has an opening at either end for purposes of entrance and exit. The ceremony occupies two or three days, during which the ground in the interior of the enclosure is covered with savages, who sit alongside each other, drawn up close inside the fence. In a line running lengthways through the centre are erected perpendicular poles, with large stones at their bases, both stones and poles covered red over different portions of their surfaces by the blood of the dog sacrifice. The animals are selected and killed, and, after lying exposed on the stones beside the poles during the performance of certain ceremonies by the medicine men whose medicine bags, composed of the skins of wild animals, form an important feature of the ceremony are cooked and eaten. The dog meat, when prepared, presents a very uncouth and repulsive appearance, as it is borne from man to man in shapeless trenchers that each may select the portion he intends to devour.

To the casual spectator, such a ceremony as the dog feast seems a confused conglomeration of frivolous rites and genuflections, destitute alike of meaning and design. One might be tempted to believe that the principal and most rational object of the assemblage was to eat the dogs. Inquiry, however, of any well-informed resident of the country, elicits the reply that the unfortunate beings are assembled for what, in their eyes, is the celebration of a solemn act of communion with the spirits. That such communion is real has been believed, to our knowledge, by many clergymen and priests in the Indian country, though, of course, their theory is that it exists with the powers of darkness. It probably lies much with the accidental bias of each man's mind, whether he inclines to so serious a view of these barbarous proceedings, or mentally attributes to them much the same amount of spiritual efficacy which he would to the fantastic contortions of some Eastern devotee.

The nominal object of this feast is to make medicine. What medicine this is, we are unable to state with precision. The Indians have many medicines, composed for most of the roots, and sometimes possessed of real medicinal virtue. Sarsaparilla, for instance, is used by them. Some are said to be highly poisonous, and even to exercise what we presume would to a physician appear an unaccountable effect. The permanent contortion of features, the growth of hair over the entire body, and the eruption of black, ineffaceable blotches on the skin, are alleged to be the consequences of partaking of some of them, either by swallowing or inhaling their fumes. Frequent examples of the results above cited have come under our own personal observation, and we can vouch for the effect produced.

There was employed at one time, as a servant in the family, a Salteaux girl, of about twenty years of age. As a natural result of her presence at the establishment, numerous Indians of both sexes, claiming ties of consanguinity of more or less remoteness, daily besieged the culinary department of our domestic economy. The matter became unbearable, finally, as it often occurred that the kitchen floor was nearly covered with the squatting relatives. The girl was ordered to refuse admittance to any being, of either sex, habited in a blanket. It happened that the first candidate presenting himself for admittance after the receipt of this prohibitory order was an old conjurer, or, medicine man. The door was unceremoniously shut in his face. He lingered about, however, until some duty called the girl outside the door, when, after threatening her with dire revenge, he took his departure. The poor domestic was much alarmed and reported his threats. Little attention was paid to it, and the winter passed away without a further call from the conjurer.

In the early spring, the girl by some accident cut her hand slightly not sufficiently deep, however, to necessitate binding up. Before it healed, she was one day engaged in carrying water from an adjacent stream, when the conjurer unexpectedly approached her. Professing to have forgotten his ejection of the previous winter, he proffered his hand in a friendly way to the girl, who thoughtlessly gave him in return the wounded member. He shook it a long time, squeezing it tightly in his own. The sore smarted considerably, and upon withdrawing her hand because of the pain, she noticed some dark substance in the palm of the conjurer's hand. The thought then occurred to her that he had poisoned the sore. She was assured of it by the medicine man, who informed her that she would break out in black blotches for one month each year, ever afterward. One year from that date black eruptions appeared over her entire body, each spot about the size of a dime silver coin. They continued upon her person, without any severe pain, for one month, when they disappeared. For three successive years as long as we knew her the eruptions occurred regularly, and continued for the allotted time.

Among the visiting Indians who called perennially at our kitchen door during the winter months, was a middle-aged woman suffering from a loss of power to move the facial muscles. This incapacity was brought on, according to her testimony, and that of others cognizant of the circumstances, some five years before our first acquaintance with her, by certain drugs administered by a conjurer. These medicines were given to her to produce that effect alone, without reference to the prevention or cure of other diseases, and were taken without her knowledge, being mingled surreptitiously with her food. The effect soon showed itself in a total loss of power in the facial muscles. She became as expressionless as a mask. Only the eyes moved; and, as they were intensely black and rather sparkling eyes, the ghastly deformity was rendered the more glaring. The most singular effect was produced, however, by her laugh. She was a jolly, good-natured squaw, and laughed upon the slightest provocation. Her eyes sparkled, and her "Ha! ha!" was musical to a degree; but not a muscle moved to denote the merriment on that expressionless face. One felt that someone else laughed behind that rigid integument, and was fain to pull it off and see the dimples and curves it concealed. The sensation was that of being in the presence of an enigma one could not comprehend. No idea could be formed of what she thought at any time, but when she waxed merry her countenance was more than ever a death mask.

As to the growth of hair over the body, we have heard of but one instance of it. That was an old man from a tribe dwelling in the swamps and marshes. He was entirely covered with a thick coating of hair nearly an inch in length. Only about the eyes was there any diminution in the quantity, where for nearly an inch in a circle there was no hair. He attributed the phenomenon to a decoction of certain herbs given him by a medicine man whom he had mortally offended. His family, so far as we heard of them, were innocent of any hirsute covering.

In a family of three Cree Indians of advanced age, a sister and two brothers, named respectively Sallie, Creppe, and Hornie, living near Fort Pelly, perhaps the strangest effects of the medicine man's drugs appeared. These old people had been poisoned in their early youth, with a different effect in each case. Sallie, who was a hanger-on about the kitchen, lost the nails of her fingers and toes regularly every year at the season when birds moult their feathers. This phenomenon had never failed to occur annually since the medicine had been taken in infancy. There was but little pain connected with this shedding of the nails, and they soon grew out again. Her brother Creppe was afflicted with an eruption of warts over his entire person and was altogether as hideous a looking object as could well be imagined. The divisions of his fingers and toes were hidden by these monstrous excrescences; from his ears depended warts nearly an inch in length; in fact, he was covered with them all over except his eyes. At certain seasons of the year, they became very painful and deprived him of the power of locomotion.

But in the case of Hornie, a name conferred by some facetious Scotch trader, in allusion to a fancied resemblance to his Satanic majesty the effects of the poison were of quite another character. Hornie's hair was simply changed from a generally deep black to alternate streaks of black and white. These streaks were about an inch in width and ran from the forehead to the back of the head. The line of demarcation between the two colours was very abrupt and distinct; the white colour being the purest that can be imagined. There was no gradual merging from iron-grey to grey, thence to white; it was the whiteness of unsullied snow throughout the streak.

And it never changed. We do not feel that strangers to the subject of which we write will receive these incidents with the confidence that they deserve, nor even that those who are somewhat familiar with the actual circumstances will admit every inference to be drawn to be the living truth, but our own assurance is so clear and strong that we can only judge the critic by his judgment of it. We know what we assert, and are upon honor with the reader.

Medical gentlemen in the country have differed in their opinions as to the ability of Indians to cause the above-described symptoms; and, so far as we can gather, the subject is a difficult one, and resolves itself more into a question of evidence of facts than of the medicinal property of the roots and drugs.

We were once furnished an opportunity to examine at our leisure the contents of many medicine bags at a certain Indian mission station in the northern country. These bags had formerly been the property of sundry medicine men, who, on their conversion to Christianity, had transferred them to the keeping of the reverend missionary. There was a large collection of them thrown promiscuously upon the floor of a small outbuilding. The bags were, for the most part, formed of the skins of various wild beasts in the embryotic state, taken off whole, and so stuffed as to retain as much as possible the natural position of the animal. They had evidently served as the totems of the owners. The contents of these primitive medicine chests were as varied as the most enthusiastic curio could desire. Each article was wrapped carefully in a separate parcel by itself, with the inner bark of the birch tree, and duly labelled as to its contents with totemic symbols. An unwrapping of these packages resulted in the discovery of an extensive assortment of ingredients. There were dried herbs of many different varieties bark and leaves of strange plants and trees; white and orange-coloured powders of the finest quality, and demanding skill in their preparation; claws of animals and talons of birds; coloured feathers and beaks; a few preserved skins and teeth of reptiles; but a total absence of liquids or any vessels that could be used to carry them. There were several plants, packages of which were found in every bag; but the majority differed greatly, and the materia medica of each practitioner seemed to be the result of individual choice and research. One thing, however, was common to all the small packages of human fingers and toenails. Of what peculiar signification they were, or used in what malady, we are unable to state.

Among the other contents of the medicine bags, and common to all, were small images of wood, the presence of which was considered essential to the proper efficacy of the drugs. This was the real totem which presided over the effectual use of the ingredients and represented the guardian spirit of the owner. The Indians believe every animal to have had a great original or father. The first buffalo, the first bear, the first beaver, the first eagle, etc., was the Manitou or guardian spirit of the whole race of these different creatures. They chose someone of these originals as their special Manitou or guardian and hence arose the custom of having its representation as the totem of an entire tribe. But, the medicine men being, as it were, the priests of the spirits, and mediums between them and the world, are entitled to a special guardian spirit of their own, and hence carry his totem among their drugs. As they profess to heal through the direction of this spirit or guardian, they very properly place his image among the means he commands to be used.

These images were, as a matter of course, of limited size and rough workmanship. Their designs were various and represented different animals, birds, reptiles, human figures in strange attitudes, the sun and moon, and combinations of all these in many forms. Whatever they held to be superior to themselves, they deified; but they never exalted it much above humanity, and these images never betrayed the expression of a conception of a supernatural being on the part of their owners.

But, whatever may have been the value of the contents of these medicine bags, certain it is that a fraternity of medicine- men exists among the Indians, and that those without its pale look with great awe upon the power of its members. The latter are the great actors in the dog-feasts. They make medicine for the recovery of the sick, who apply for their assistance, and initiate novices into the mysteries of the fraternity. In payment for each exercise of these offices, a remuneration of some value is required; the charges being, like those of many of the medical profession, in proportion to the wealth of the patient. In many cases, it happens that, through a pretty thorough knowledge of the virtues of certain herbs, a firm determination on the part of the sufferer not to die, and a constitution inured to noxious lotions of every kind, the medicine man affects a cure. Some of his cures and specifics are wonderful, too.

We recall to memory a certain buffalo hunt in which we once participated, accompanying a French-Indian family. Among the members of this nomadic domestic circle was a young woman about nineteen years of age, and of very strong physique. It happened one day that, in drawing a loaded shotgun from the cart by the muzzle, the charge exploded, and passed entirely through her body in the region of the chest. The gun being not over twenty inches distant from her person when discharged, the shot left a hole through which one's finger could be thrust. We were tented on the plain, hundreds of miles from settlements, and destitute alike of medical knowledge and remedies. The girl was given up for lost, of course. Near our camp, however, were a few lodges of Indians, and among them, as usual, a medicine man. The report of the accident soon reaching the Indian tepees, this conjurer stalked over to our tents and looked without comment for a time upon the unskilled efforts being made for the sufferer's relief. At length he addressed the father of the girl, offering to cure her if she was entrusted to his care. Clutching at this straw, in the absence of any better thing, with the girl's consent the father accepted the proposal; and the patient was transferred to the lodge of the medicine man. Strange as it may appear, the woman recovered after a time, under the drugs and care of the conjurer, and was able to return home with us at the termination of the hunt. We saw her some years after, and she expressed herself as enjoying perfect health. The payment for effecting this cure was, if we recollect rightly, two Indian ponies, which, it is needless to say, were cheerfully paid.

On his initiation into the mysteries of the brotherhood, the candidate, besides paying the medicine men a fair price, must be a man known to the adepts as eligible. This eligibility consists, it has been contended, in physical perfection alone; but, having known conjurers who were deformed from birth, and others maimed at the time of their initiation, we incline to the opinion that mental characteristics are those most closely examined. A certain dignity of appearance, a severe and mysterious manner, and a more than usual taciturnity and secretiveness in the candidate are favourably considered. Different tribes, however, or, it may be, different schools of medicine, have their distinct methods of initiation.

The most curious initial ceremony coming to our knowledge was that of a tribe in the far North. The candidate was required to repair to the forests for a certain number of days, to be passed in fasting, until, from extreme physical privation, he should be wrought up to close communion with the spirits. He then returned and entered the pale of the fence marking the limits of the dog feast, to be at once surrounded by a circle of conjurers and braves of his tribe, who indulged in a wild dance. Amid this dance, a live dog (white, if to be had) was brought within the circle by the instructing medicine man and handed to the novitiate. Seizing the sacrificial canine by the neck and a hind leg, the candidate finished his initiation by devouring the animal alive. The spectacle of this poor wretch, his face covered with blood, the howls and contortions of the suffering animal, and the yelling, dancing demons, circling about in their monotonous dance, was appalling to the last degree. The dogs consumed were generally of small size, but in some instances, large ones were given, and the neophyte was in a gorged and semi-dormant condition, at the termination of his repast.

With some few orders from medicine men physical torture in the initiation obtains. The candidate, to cure others, must be a perfect physical man himself; and, as he may occasion pain to his patients, must be able to endure it without murmur in his person. At an appointed time he appears before a medicine man, who cuts four gashes about three inches long on the shoulders near the point. With a smooth, stick of hardwood, he makes a hole underneath the slits he has cut, taking in an inch or more in width, and through which a buffalo thong is passed and tightly tied. Then the breast is served in the same manner. After this one thong is fastened to a long pole, the other to a buffalo-skull, or other heavyweight, with about ten feet of rope between the back and skull. The candidate then jumps into a lively dance, singing a song in keeping with the performance, and jerking the skull about so fast that at times it is four or five feet from the ground, all the time pulling as best he can at the thong fastened to the pole by jumping back and swinging upon it. At times the flesh on the back and breast seems to stretch eight or ten inches, and, when let up, closes down again with a pop. This dancing and racing continues until the flesh-fastenings break. The novitiate is by that time a terrible-looking object, and so nearly exhausted that he has to be helped away. His wounds are washed and bound up, presents are made to him, and he is thenceforth recognized as a medicine man.

A fast of ten days' duration has been stated to us, on oral and trustworthy testimony, as a necessary preliminary among some tribes to becoming a conjurer. During the time indicated the candidate sleeps among the branches of a tree, where a temporary residence has been fitted up for him. His dreams are carefully treasured in his recollection, and he believes that the spirits who are afterward to become his familiars then reveal themselves to him. Indeed, this intent of watching for his spiritual familiars is the principal object of his retirement and fast. He is taught to believe in two kinds of spirits, one eminently good, the other eminently evil. But the latter are inferior in power to the former. The good spirits are his guardians and familiars, yet he may use the devices of the evil ones if he so desires Every accident of life with a medicine man is accounted for by spiritual agency. An amusing incident may serve to show the extent to which this belief may be carried.

A small company of Indians drifted into our premises, one winter's day for the purpose of begging provisions. Among the number were several noted conjurers. Some freak of curiosity tempted us to try how far their belief in the supernatural would carry them; and, having a large music box in our possession, it was wound up and placed unnoticed upon the table. In a moment it began playing, and the notes of "Bonnie Doon," "The Lass o' Gowrie," etc., reverberated through the apartment. At its first chords, the faces of the savages assumed a wondering, dazed expression. But, quickly recovering from that phase of amazement, they began to trace the sound to its origin. After some minutes of deep attention, one old man discovered the source, and without a moment's hesitation raised his gun and fired it at the box. It is perhaps unnecessary to mention that the instrument was, to use a nautical expression, "a total wreck." The conjurer asserted that the music was produced by an evil spirit concealed in the box, and could only be driven out by a gunshot. Our curiosity was satisfied but at a considerable expense.

For whole nights previous to the public and final ceremony of the dog feast, the principal medicine man, installed in his medicine tent, instructs his pupils. The quaint party is accompanied by an individual who beats the medicine drum, the monotonous tones of which are kept up during the whole time the lesson continues. What special branch of medical science is instilled into the minds of pupils we do not know. It is probably but a lesson in incantation or some senseless jugglery, intended to awe the candidate; for the medicine men are acute deceivers, and as despotic and absurd in social life as are the priests and oracles and conjurers of civilized man in another hemisphere.

It has been our good fortune to see some of the tricks' performed by the medicine men, among the most curious of which is one analogous to the celebrated Davenport trick. The conjurer in every instance permitted an inspection of the tent and person; he was then securely tied inside the tent and left alone for a moment, when he would appear untied at the door; a moment later he would be tied again. This trick is, in certain localities, quite common among them, and exceedingly well performed. They exhibit also many other feats of jugglery, in themselves very curious and interesting, but not calling for notice here.

An interesting circumstance obtains, however, in their weather divinations. During stormy weather, the medicine man may be heard in his tent engaged in loud incantations. After half a day spent in this manner, he appears and predicts at what time the storm will begin to abate, the direction the wind will take, and the time that will elapse before its entire cessation. In short, he gives a complete meteorological and storm table; and, in the many instances in which these predictions were made in our presence, they invariably proved correct.

However, neither from undoubted medicine men who have been converted to the Christian faith, nor from any others of whom we have heard, has anything worth knowing about what may be termed the mysteries of the ceremonies above indicated been ever elicited. Christian ex-conjurers have, we believe, been known to express an opinion that they possessed a power when pagans which they were unable to exercise after baptism. What this belief may be worth we do not know.


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