MEDICAL PRACTICE.

Taking the Dispensatory as the standard, and assuming that this list

is a fair epitome of what the Cherokees know concerning the medical

properties of plants, we find that five plants, or 25 per cent of

the whole number, are correctly used; twelve, or 60 per cent, are

presumably either worthless or incorrectly used, and three plants, or

15 per cent, are so used that it is difficult to say whether they are

of any benefit or not. Granting that two of these three produce good

results as used by the Indians, we should have 35 per cent, or about

one-third of the whole, as the proportion actually possessing medical

virtues, while the remaining two-thirds are inert, if not positively

injurious. It is not probable that a larger number of examples would

change the proportion to any appreciable extent. A number of herbs

used in connection with these principal plants may probably be set

down as worthless, inasmuch as they are not named in the Dispensatory.

The results here arrived at will doubtless be a surprise to those

persons who hold that an Indian must necessarily be a good doctor,

and that the medicine man or conjurer, with his theories of ghosts,

witches, and revengeful animals, knows more about the properties

of plants and the cure of disease than does the trained botanist

or physician who has devoted a lifetime of study to the patient

investigation of his specialty, with all the accumulated information

contained in the works of his predecessors to build upon, and with

all the light thrown upon his pathway by the discoveries of modern

science. It is absurd to suppose that the savage, a child in

intellect, has reached a higher development in any branch of science

than has been attained by the civilized man, the product of long ages

of intellectual growth. It would be as unreasonable to suppose that

the Indian could be entirely ignorant of the medicinal properties

of plants, living as he did in the open air in close communion with

nature; but neither in accuracy nor extent can his knowledge be

compared for a moment with that of the trained student working upon

scientific principles.

Cherokee medicine is an empiric development of the fetich idea. For

a disease caused by the rabbit the antidote must be a plant called

“rabbit’s food,” “rabbit’s ear,” or “rabbit’s tail;” for snake dreams

the plant used is “snake’s tooth;” for worms a plant resembling a worm

in appearance, and for inflamed eyes a flower having the appearance

and name of “deer’s eye.” A yellow root must be good when the patient

vomits yellow bile, and a black one when dark circles come about his

eyes, and in each case the disease and the plant alike are named from

the color. A decoction of burs must be a cure for forgetfulness, for

there is nothing else that will stick like a bur; and a decoction of

the wiry roots of the “devil’s shoestrings” must be an efficacious

wash to toughen the ballplayer’s muscles, for they are almost strong

enough to stop the plowshare in the furrow. It must be evident that

under such a system the failures must far outnumber the cures, yet it

is not so long since half our own medical practice was based upon the

same idea of correspondences, for the mediæval physicians taught that

_similia similibus curantur_, and have we not all heard that “the hair

of the dog will cure the bite?”

Their ignorance of the true medical principles involved is shown by

the regulations prescribed for the patient. With the exception of the

fasting, no sanitary precautions are taken to aid in the recovery of

the sick man or to contribute to his comfort. Even the fasting is as

much religious as sanative, for in most cases where it is prescribed

the doctor also must abstain from food until sunset, just as in the

Catholic church both priest and communicants remain fasting from

midnight until after the celebration of the divine mysteries. As the

Indian cuisine is extremely limited, no delicate or appetizing dishes

are prepared for the patient, who partakes of the same heavy, sodden

cornmeal dumplings and bean bread which form his principal food in

health. In most cases certain kinds of food are prohibited, such as

squirrel meat, fish, turkey, etc.; but the reason is not that such

food is considered deleterious to health, as we understand it, but

because of some fanciful connection with the disease spirit. Thus if

squirrels have caused the illness the patient must not eat squirrel

meat. If the disease be rheumatism, he must not eat the leg of any

animal, because the limbs are generally the seat of this malady. Lye,

salt, and hot food are always forbidden when there is any prohibition

at all; but here again, in nine cases out of ten, the regulation,

instead of being beneficial, serves only to add to his discomfort.

Lye enters into almost all the food preparations of the Cherokees, the

alkaline potash taking the place of salt, which is seldom used among

them, having been introduced by the whites. Their bean and chestnut

bread, cornmeal dumplings, hominy, and gruel are all boiled in a pot,

all contain lye, and are all, excepting the last, served up hot from

the fire. When cold their bread is about as hard and tasteless as a

lump of yesterday’s dough, and to condemn a sick man to a diet of such

dyspeptic food, eaten cold without even a pinch of salt to give it a

relish, would seem to be sufficient to kill him without any further

aid from the doctor. The salt or lye so strictly prohibited is really

a tonic and appetizer, and in many diseases acts with curative effect.

So much for the health regimen.

In serious cases the patient is secluded and no strangers are allowed

to enter the house. On first thought this would appear to be a genuine

sanitary precaution for the purpose of securing rest and quiet to the

sick man. Such, however, is not the case. The necessity for quiet has

probably never occurred to the Cherokee doctor, and this regulation is

intended simply to prevent any direct or indirect contact with a woman

in a pregnant or menstrual condition. Among all primitive nations,

including the ancient Hebrews, we find an elaborate code of rules

in regard to the conduct and treatment of women on arriving at the

age of puberty, during pregnancy and the menstrual periods, and at

childbirth. Among the Cherokees the presence of a woman under any of

these conditions, or even the presence of any one who has come from

a house where such a woman resides, is considered to neutralize all

the effects of the doctor’s treatment. For this reason all women,

excepting those of the household, are excluded. A man is forbidden to

enter, because he may have had intercourse with a tabued woman, or may

have come in contact with her in some other way; and children also

are shut out, because they may have come from a cabin where dwells a

woman subject to exclusion. What is supposed to be the effect of the

presence of a menstrual woman in the family of the patient is not

clear; but judging from analogous customs in other tribes and from

rules still enforced among the Cherokees, notwithstanding their long

contact with the whites, it seems probable that in former times the

patient was removed to a smaller house or temporary bark lodge built

for his accommodation whenever the tabu as to women was prescribed

by the doctor. Some of the old men assert that in former times sick

persons were removed to the public townhouse, where they remained

under the care of the doctors until they either recovered or died.

A curious instance of this prohibition is given in the second

Didûⁿlĕ´skĭ (rheumatism) formula from the Gahuni manuscript (see

page 350), where the patient is required to abstain from touching a

squirrel, a dog, a cat, a mountain trout, or a woman, and must also

have a chair appropriated to his use alone during the four days that

he is under treatment.

In cases of the children’s disease known as Gûⁿwani´gista´ĭ (see

formulas) it is forbidden to carry the child outdoors, but this is not

to procure rest for the little one, or to guard against exposure to

cold air, but because the birds send this disease, and should a bird

chance to be flying by overhead at the moment the napping of its wings

would _fan the disease back_ into the body of the patient.

Seventh Annual Report of the Bureau of Ethnology to the Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution, 1885-1886, Government Printing Office, Washington, 1891 · 第 268 / 361 题