Some time afterward an acquaintance was formed with a man named
A‛yûⁿ´inĭ or “Swimmer,” who proved to be so intelligent that I
spent several days with him, procuring information in regard to myths
and old customs. He told a number of stories in very good style, and
finally related the Origin of the Bear[1]. The bears were formerly a
part of the Cherokee tribe who decided to leave their kindred and go
into the forest. Their friends followed them and endeavored to induce
them to return, but the Ani-Tsâ´kahĭ, as they were called, were
determined to go. Just before parting from their relatives at the
edge of the forest, they turned to them and said, “It is better for
you that we should go; but we will teach you songs, and some day when
you are in want of food come out to the woods and sing these songs
and we shall appear and give you meat.” Their friends, after learning
several songs from them, started back to their homes, and after
proceeding a short distance, turned around to take one last look, but
saw only a number of bears disappearing in the depths of the forest.
The songs which they learned are still sung by the hunter to attract
the bears.
[Footnote 1: To appear later with the collection of Cherokee
myths.]
[Illustration: BUREAU OF ETHNOLOGY SEVENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XXV
FACSIMILE OF GAHUNI MANUSCRIPT.
Formula for Didùⁿlĕckĭ. (Page 349.)]
When Swimmer had finished the story he was asked if he knew these
songs. He replied that he did, but on being requested to sing one
he made some excuse and was silent. After some further efforts the
interpreter said it would be useless to press the matter then as there
were several other Indians present, but that to-morrow we should have
him alone with us and could then make another attempt.
The next day Swimmer was told that if he persisted in his refusal it
would be necessary to employ some one else, as it was unfair in him to
furnish incomplete information when he was paid to tell all he knew.
He replied that he was willing to tell anything in regard to stories
and customs, but that these songs were a part of his secret knowledge
and commanded a high price from the hunters, who sometimes paid as
much as $5 for a single song, “because you can’t kill any bears or
deer unless you sing them.”
He was told that the only object in asking about the songs was to put
them on record and preserve them, so that when he and the half dozen
old men of the tribe were dead the world might be aware how much the
Cherokees had known. This appeal to his professional pride proved
effectual, and when he was told that a great many similar songs had
been sent to Washington by medicine men of other tribes, he promptly
declared that he knew as much as any of them, and that he would give
all the information in his possession, so that others might be able to
judge for themselves who knew most. The only conditions he made were
that these secret matters should be heard by no one else but the
interpreter, and should not be discussed when other Indians were
present.
As soon as the other shamans learned what was going on they endeavored
by various means to persuade him to stop talking, or failing in this,
to damage his reputation by throwing out hints as to his honesty or
accuracy of statement. Among other objections which they advanced
was one which, however incomprehensible to a white man, was perfectly
intelligible to an Indian, viz: That when he had told everything this
information would be taken to Washington and locked up there, and thus
they would be deprived of the knowledge. This objection was one of
the most difficult to overcome, as there was no line of argument with
which to oppose it.
These reports worried Swimmer, who was extremely sensitive in regard
to his reputation, and he became restive under the insinuations of
his rivals. Finally on coming to work one day he produced a book from
under his ragged coat as he entered the house, and said proudly:
“Look at that and now see if I don’t know something.” It was a small
day-book of about 240 pages, procured originally from a white man, and
was about half filled with writing in the Cherokee characters. A brief
examination disclosed the fact that it contained just those matters
that had proved so difficult to procure. Here were prayers, songs,
and prescriptions for the cure of all kinds of diseases--for chills,
rheumatism, frostbites, wounds, bad dreams, and witchery; love charms,
to gain the affections of a woman or to cause her to hate a detested
rival; fishing charms, hunting charms--including the songs without
which none could ever hope to kill any game; prayers to make the corn
grow, to frighten away storms, and to drive off witches; prayers for
long life, for safety among strangers, for acquiring influence in
council and success in the ball play. There were prayers to the Long
Man, the Ancient White, the Great Whirlwind, the Yellow Rattlesnake,
and to a hundred other gods of the Cherokee pantheon. It was in fact
an Indian ritual and pharmacopoeia.
After recovering in a measure from the astonishment produced by this
discovery I inquired whether other shamans had such books. “Yes,”
said Swimmer, “we all have them.” Here then was a clew to follow up. A
bargain was made by which he was to have another blank book into which
to copy the formulas, after which the original was bought. It is now
deposited in the library of the Bureau of Ethnology. The remainder of
the time until the return was occupied in getting an understanding of
the contents of the book.