The Shaman among the tribes of the Northwest Coast is an important person.
He decided, when a boy, that he would become a Shaman. He selected some
old Shaman for his teacher and learned from him his secrets. By
experiments, by dreaming, and by trading with other Shamans he got other
secrets. To help him in his dealings with spirits the Shaman makes use of
many devices. He sleeps upon a wooden pillow, which is carved with otter
heads; these are believed to whisper wisdom to him while he sleeps. Upon
his dancing-dress little carved figures, in ivory, are hung, which give
him spirit influence, partly by the forms into which they are cut, and
partly by the jingling noise they make when he dances. He wears a mask,
the animal carvings on which control spirits. He uses a rattle and a
tambourine to summon spirits. He has a spirit pole or wand quaintly
carved, with which he fences, fighting and warding off spirits which he
alone can see. The people sitting by see his brave fighting and hear his
shrieks and cries; in this way only they can judge how many and how
powerful are the spirits against whom he is fighting, for their good.
Sometimes when dancing the Shaman becomes so excited that he falls in a
fit—quivering, gasping, struggling. It is believed, at such times, either
that some mighty spirit has taken possession of him, or that his own soul
has gone to the land of spirits. Sometimes when he comes to himself he
tells of his wonderful journeys and battles.
Among the Haida of the Queen Charlotte Islands, when a sick man is to be
cured, three or four Shamans come together at his side. All sing and
rattle until they find out where the soul of the sick man is. It may be in
the possession of the salmon or the oolachen fish, or it may be held a
prisoner by some dead Shaman. They go to the place where it is supposed to
be, and by singing and charms succeed in getting it into a carved hollow
bone used only for this purpose. Various precious things are then burned
and the soul bone held in the smoke. The bone is then laid by the side of
the patient’s head that his soul may return.
Many astonishing stories are told of the powers of medicine men. A
missionary among the Crees, Edgerton R. Young, told me of a white man who
was once out hunting. He came upon an old medicine man, who begged him for
game, as he was hungry. The white man made sport of him, saying, “You are
a great medicine man; why not get game for yourself?” The old man was
enraged. He cried out, “White man, see yonder goose,” and pointed his
finger into the air. The goose fell fluttering at their feet, and the old
man picked it up and walked away. The white man really thought this thing
happened. Perhaps the old medicine man had hypnotized him; if so, the only
goose anywhere around was probably the white man.
The eastern Algonkins were fond of medicine or mystery. Two great medicine
men would have a contest to see which was more powerful. Many of their
stories tell of such contests. Two powers, which they did seem to have,
attracted much attention and caused much terror. These were screaming and
sinking into the ground. Leland quotes an Indian regarding these: “Two or
three weeks after, I was in another place, we spoke of _m’teoulin_
[mystery men]. The white folks ridiculed them. I said there was one in
Fredericton, and I said I would bet ten dollars that he would get the
better of them. And they bet that no Indian could do more than they could.
So the _m’teoulin_ came, and first he screamed so that no one could move.
It was dreadful. Then he took seven steps through the ground up to his
ankles, just as if it had been light snow. When I asked for the ten
dollars, the white men paid.”
Ojibwa medicine men have often been tested by white men who doubted their
powers. Thus one old medicine man had two little houses built at some
distance apart. He was shut up in one, and the whites built a ring of fire
around it. Then, no one could tell how, he appeared unharmed walking out
of the _other_ house. These things are no doubt tricks or delusions, but
the medicine man’s apparent ability to do them greatly increased his
influence among the people.
Much use is made of words as charms and of sacred numbers. Four and seven
are sacred numbers among the Cherokees. Once, wishing to see his method of
curing disease, I asked the old medicine man to treat my lame arm. He sent
out for four kinds of leaves, which were to be fresh and young, and one
other sort which was to be dry and dead. The latter had little thorns
along its edges. The old man pounded up the four kinds in warm water. He
then scratched the arm with the other, nearly drawing blood. The arm was
rubbed with the bruised leaves. The medicine man then blew upon my arm
seven times. He went through this operation of rubbing and blowing four
times, thus combining the numbers four and seven. He repeated charms all
the time as he rubbed.
The Shaman does business as an individual. He expects pay from those who
employ him. His knowledge and power over spirits is individual and for
individuals. Among some tribes we find not single medicine men, but great
secret societies which have learned spirit wisdom to use for the benefit
of the society, or for the good of the whole tribe. Such secret societies
are notable in the Southwest—and elsewhere. They may work to cure disease
in individuals; they also work for the whole tribe. Among the Moki
Pueblos, the societies of the Snake and of the Antelope carry on the snake
dance, that the whole people may have rain for their fields.