[From the Manuscripts of D. D. Mitchell, Esq.]
I have felt some reluctance in narrating the following singular feats,
(I had almost said miracles) which I saw performed among the Arickara
Indians, not because I considered them unworthy the attention of the
curious, but lest I should be accused of sporting with the reader's
credulity, or of availing myself too largely of what is supposed by
some to be the _traveller's privilege_. I acknowledge that the
performance was altogether above my comprehension, and greatly excited
my astonishment.
In civilized life, we know the many expedients to which men resort in
order to acquire a subsistence, and are not therefore surprised, that
by perseverance and long practice, stimulated by necessity, they
should attain great dexterity in the art of deception. To find it,
however, carried to such great perfection by wild and untutored
savages, who are neither urged by necessity, nor indeed receive the
slightest reward for their skill, is certainly very surprising.
In travelling up the Missouri during the summer of 1831, we lost our
horses near the Arickara village, which caused our detention for
several days. As this nation has committed more outrages upon the
whites than any other on the Missouri, and seem to possess all the
vices of the savage without a redeeming virtue, we found ourselves
very unpleasantly situated near the principal village, without
sufficient force to repel an attack if one should be made. After some
deliberation, we adopted the advice of an old Canadian hunter, and
determined to move our chattels directly into the village, and, whilst
we remained, to take up our lodgings with the tribe. We were
emboldened to this step, by the assurance of the hunter, that the
Arickarees had never been known to kill but one man who had taken
refuge within the limits of their town, and that their forbearance
originated in the superstitious belief that the ghost of the murdered
had haunted their encampment, and had frightened away the buffalo by
his nightly screams.
We were received in the village with much more politeness than we
expected; a lodge was appropriated to our use, and provisions were
brought to us in abundance. After we were completely refreshed, a
young man came to our lodge and informed us that a band of bears, (as
he expressed it) or medicine men, were making preparations to exhibit
their skill, and that if we felt disposed we could witness the
ceremony. We were much gratified at the invitation, as we had all
heard marvellous stories of the wonderful feats performed by the
Indian medicine men or jugglers. We accordingly followed our guide to
the medicine lodge, where we found six men dressed in bear skins, and
seated in a circle in the middle of the apartment. The spectators were
standing around, and so arranged as to give each individual a view of
the performers. They civilly made way for our party, and placed us so
near the circle that we had ample opportunity of detecting the
imposture, if any imposition should be practised. The actors (if I may
so call them) were painted in the most grotesque manner imaginable,
blending so completely the ludicrous and frightful in their
appearance, that the spectator might be said to be somewhat undecided
whether to laugh or to shudder. After sitting for some time in a kind
of mournful silence, one of the jugglers desired a youth who was near
him, to bring some stiff clay from a certain place which he named on
the river bank. This we understood, through an old Canadian named
_Garrow_, (well known on the Missouri,) who was present and acted as
our interpreter. The young man soon returned with the clay, and each
of these human bears immediately commenced the process of moulding a
number of little images exactly resembling buffaloes, men and horses,
bows, arrows, &c. When they had completed nine of each variety, the
miniature buffaloes were all placed together in a line, and the little
clay hunters mounted on their horses, and holding their bows and
arrows in their hands, were stationed about three feet from them in a
parallel line. I must confess that at this part of the ceremony I felt
very much inclined to be merry, especially when I observed what
appeared to me the ludicrous solemnity with which it was performed.
But my ridicule was changed into astonishment, and even into _awe_, by
what speedily followed.
When the buffaloes and horsemen were properly arranged, one of the
jugglers thus addressed the little clay men or hunters:
"My children, I know you are hungry; it has been a long time since you
have been out hunting. Exert yourselves to-day. Try and kill as many
as you can. Here are white people present who will laugh at you if you
don't kill. Go! don't you see that the buffalo have already got the
scent of you and have started?"
Conceive, if possible, our amazement, when the speaker's last words
escaped his lips, at seeing the little images start off at full speed,
followed by the Lilliputian horsemen, who with their bows of clay and
arrows of straw, actually pierced the sides of the flying buffaloes at
the distance of three feet. Several of the little animals soon fell,
apparently dead--but two of them ran round the circumference of the
circle, (a distance of fifteen or twenty feet,) and before they
finally fell, one had three and the other five arrows transfixed in
his side. When the buffaloes were all dead, the man who first
addressed the hunters spoke to them again, and ordered them to ride
into the fire, (a small one having been previously kindled in the
centre of the apartment,) and on receiving this cruel order, the
gallant horsemen, without exhibiting the least symptoms of fear or
reluctance, rode forward at a brisk trot until they had reached the
fire. The horses here stopped and drew back, when the Indian cried in
an angry tone, "why don't you ride in?" The riders now commenced
beating their horses with their bows, and soon succeeded in urging
them into the flames, where horses and riders both tumbled down, and
for some time lay baking on the coals. The medicine men gathered up
the dead buffaloes and laid them also on the fire, and when all were
completely dried they were taken out and pounded into dust. After a
long speech from one of the party, (of which our interpreter could
make nothing,) the dust was carried to the top of the lodge and
scattered to the winds.
I paid the strictest attention during the whole ceremony, in order to
discover, if possible, the mode by which this extraordinary deception
was practised; but all my vigilance was of no avail. The jugglers
themselves sat motionless during the performance, and the nearest was
not within six feet of the moving figures. I failed altogether to
detect the mysterious agency by which inanimate images of clay were to
all appearance suddenly endowed with the action, energy and feeling of
living beings.
* * * * *
[From the same.]
Remarkable Dream and Prediction, with their fulfilment.
Many whose opinions are entitled to profound respect, have believed
that man in his primitive or savage state, without the means of
cultivating or exercising his reasoning powers, has been occasionally
favored by divine or supernatural illumination. Whatever difference of
opinion may exist however, in reference to this subject, there can be
none as to the _facts_ about to be recorded. In the fall of 1827, an
old Mandan chief proclaimed early in the morning, through the village
or town of his tribe, the following dream, which he alleged to have
had the over night. "The Great Spirit," said he, "appeared to me last
night and told me that my feast had given him much satisfaction--that
he had concluded to take pity on me, and afford me an opportunity to
avenge the death of my son. He told me when the sun had performed
about half his journey, that I must start and go down to the little
lake, (about ten miles distant)--that there I should find four of my
enemies lying asleep, and that amongst them was the one who had slain
my son--that I should attack and kill all four, and return safe to the
village with their scalps." This dream the old Mandan repeated to
William P. Pilton and James Kipp, traders, who were then present, and
who are now living and can vouch for the fact. About noon he departed
for the lake, and would suffer none to accompany him. In the evening,
to the astonishment of every one who had heard the dream, he returned
with four scalps and the arms and clothing of four Arickara warriors.
This chief was afterwards called "Four Men," in commemoration of this
exploit.
But the following extraordinary prophecy, and its subsequent exact
fulfilment, came within my personal knowledge. If it does not prove
direct supernatural interference, it at least shows that events
previously foretold, have come to pass in a manner which no human
sagacity can well understand.
In the spring of 1829, about the 14th of March, I was preparing to
leave my wintering ground, which was just below the fork of the _River
Des Moins_. A camp, consisting of about fourteen lodges of Menomonies,
or Wild Rice Indians, situated a few hundred yards below my house, was
also prepared to move down the river immediately on the breaking up of
the ice, which was then daily expected. The wife of one of the
principal men was very sick, and inasmuch as her illness would delay
their departure, they felt much solicitude for her recovery, and
requested an old man among them called "_The Bears Oil_," to call down
the Spirit who presides over human life and question him respecting
her recovery. The venerable doctor or seer at first seemed reluctant
to comply, but on receiving several presents he commenced
preparations. The first thing to be done was the erection of a house
or lodge for the reception of the Spirit. Four poles of about ten feet
in length were planted in the ground, forming a square of about four
feet. The whole camp brought out their blankets, which were wrapped
around the poles from the bottom to the height of about eight feet. On
the ends of the poles was suspended all the finery which the camp
could afford, as a greater inducement, I suppose, for the Spirit to
descend. When these preparations were completed, the old man raised up
the lower edge of the blankets and crawled into the lodge, where he
remained entirely concealed from the spectators--not forgetting
however to take with him his drum and medicine bag. From the time he
entered, he was silent for nearly an hour, when at last he commenced
singing in a low voice, accompanying himself on the drum. The words of
the song, as well as the conversations which he afterwards carried on
with the Great Spirit, were in a language entirely unknown to any
except the initiated; and I have observed in all ceremonies of a
similar kind, and among all tribes of Indians, the same unintelligible
jargon is used. The Great Spirit delayed making his appearance so
long, that I began to think the inducements were not sufficient; and
being anxious to witness the conclusion of the ceremony, I sent to my
house for some tobacco and ammunition as an additional offering. This
gave much satisfaction to the Indians, and appeared also to be highly
acceptable to the Spirit,--for a violent shaking of the lodge, and the
jingling of the hawk bills which were fastened to the end of the pole,
announced his arrival.
The old man proceeded immediately to business. In a short time he
announced to the wondering crowd which surrounded the lodge, that the
woman would die about sunrise on the following morning. He also stated
that the cause which would produce her death was a fever in the heart,
and this was occasioned by her always being in a bad, angry humor. The
object of invoking the Spirit was accomplished in what had been
announced; but the priest of the oracles further observed, that the
Great Spirit had signified his willingness to answer any one question
which might be asked. As the Menomonies were apprehensive of an attack
from the Sioux, their fears naturally induced them to ask if any other
person belonging to their camp should die or be killed previously to
their reaching the Mississippi. The old man soon returned the answer
of the Great Spirit, which was, that three of those who were then
present would never see the Mississippi again. I was astonished at the
old fellow's boldness in thus hazarding his reputation on a prophecy,
the fulfilment of which seemed so very improbable. Some of the young
men ventured a second question, and inquired the names of the persons
who were sentenced to die--but immediately the shaking of the lodge
and the jingling of the hawk bills, as before, announced the sudden
departure of the Spirit. The old man made his appearance, but was
evidently much displeased that the last inquiry was made. His look was
sullen and angry, and he maintained a stubborn silence. Finding that
nothing more was to be learned, I returned home, and amused myself
with what I then supposed a ridiculous superstition.
Early next morning I walked to the Indian camp, in order to ascertain
if the sick woman was still living; and before I proceeded far, I met
several of her own sex, provided with hoes and axes, going to prepare
her grave. They told me that she died precisely at the time that
_Bears Oil_ had predicted; and they further informed me that the
Indians were preparing to move down the river as soon as the ice had
started, not doubting that the other three condemned to death by the
prophet were doomed to be killed by the Sioux.
Two days after the woman's death, an Indian ran into my house and told
me, that a tree which they had commenced cutting down the evening
before, and which had been imprudently left standing cut half way
through, had just blown down, and had fallen across one of the lodges,
by which a woman and child had been instantly killed. He congratulated
himself that, according to the prophecy, only one more person was to
die, and earnestly hoped that it might not be himself.
On the 20th of the month the ice broke up, and on the 22d the Indians
and traders started in company to descend the _Des Moins_ in boats.
For several days we journeyed on without accident or annoyance--and
when we at length arrived within ten miles of the Mississippi, several
of the men began to teaze and joke the old prophet, asking if he meant
to throw himself overboard in order to verify his own prediction. The
old man paid no attention to their jests, but sat silently smoking his
pipe, and apparently absorbed in deep thought. He was an object of
general attention, nor shall I ever forget his appearance. His tall
and emaciated form lay stretched at some length on the deck; his
hollow sunken eyes were turned upward, and appeared straining in
search of some invisible object; and ever and anon long streams of
tobacco smoke were blown through his nose, ascending in curling vapors
above his head. His imagination appeared to be busied in forming
figures out of the smoke, and when a breeze scattered it away, he
immediately sent forth another whiff, again to resume his ideal
occupation. As we approached the Mississippi, the laugh and jests of
the boatmen became more loud and frequent--but he appeared to be
entirely insensible to surrounding objects, and I had almost come to
the conclusion that the venerable seer was about to fulfil his own
prophecy. Just at that moment the man who was steering my boat
complained of a violent headach, and begged me to place some other
person at the helm, which was accordingly done. He seated himself on
deck, but I remarked that his countenance underwent various changes in
quick succession. He paused for a moment, and then exclaimed,
apparently in great agony, "I am the third person destined never to
see the Mississippi, for I am now dying. Oh, my friends, raise me up
and let me but behold the river, for it may possibly change my
destiny!" I exhorted him to keep up his spirits, and to dismiss such
apprehensions from his mind, assuring him that it was impossible for
him to die before we reached the Mississippi, for that as soon as we
turned the point below we should be in sight of the river. Thinking
that some slight indisposition had concurred with the words of the
prophet to excite his imagination highly, I stepped to the bow of the
boat, and ordered the men to row round the point as quick as possible.
I stood on the bow until the point was turned, and the majestic
Mississippi lay stretched before us in full view. I immediately called
to _Baptiste_, (the sick man's name,) and told him he might now see
the river; but the only answer I received was from one of the
men--"_He is dead!_" "Impossible!" I thought, and ran to the body--but
it was too true; the man was a corpse, and his eye now glazed in death
_had not perceived the perturbed waters of the Father of Floods!_ I
turned to the old sorcerer, whom I now considered as such, and was
struck with the calm indifference with which he received the
intelligence. "Villain!" I exclaimed, seizing him at the same time,
with strong indignation, by the arm, "it was you who killed this man!
You have poisoned him, and I will have you drowned for it." The old
man replied with great composure, and without the least symptom of
fear--"if you believe it was I who raised the wind which blew the tree
across the lodge and killed the woman and child, then you may believe
that I poisoned this man." I was struck with the justness of the
defence, and said nothing more to the prophet.
* * * * *
For the Southern Literary Messenger.