THE "MYSTERY BAG."
Several months had elapsed since I entered upon my new duties. At first
I was stimulated to extra endeavor by that curiosity which impels all
novices to take an especially active interest in their profession, but I
soon found that pounding bark, and gathering herbs, could become as
monotonous as other less novel employments. I envied the women their
tasks, as it would have been a change, and consequently a relief. It was
a treadmill existence, and day succeeded day with unvarying sameness. I
arose before dawn and went to the river; after a plunge in the sparkling
water I returned to the temple and renewed the paint on my person, which
had been effaced by the water. Constant exposure to wind and weather had
tanned my body to the color of leather, and it did not require a great
amount of art to enable me to imitate the true Indian complexion.
Exposure and coarse wholesome food had made me very hardy, and I found
that I could bear fatigue and work that I should have thought I was
never capable of performing. To this training I was indebted for the
strength that supported me in my arduous journey through the deadly
jornada, when in quest of my wife. When my preparations were completed,
it was time to ascend to the top of the temple and join in the morning's
devotions. These over, I returned to the underground room and commenced
the day's work. At first WAKOMETKLA would signify what he
required by signs, and later, as I acquired a knowledge of the language,
he would more fully detail his wishes, and ofttimes explain the effects
and purposes of the drug. In this way I became as familiar with his
materia medica, as himself; and from time to time offered suggestions
that occurred to me, which seemed to please him.
By constant and steady application I amassed a fund of knowledge
concerning vegetable medicines that enabled me, on my return to
civilization, through the co-operation of DR. CLARK JOHNSON, to
make my knowledge available in alleviating suffering humanity.
In my excursions into the woods I was accompanied by the chief, who
instructed me how to gather the medicine plants, and where to find them.
After a day spent in this manner, we would return to the village each
carrying a basket on his back, filled with the results of our labor. By
far the most important part of my work, in the estimation of the Indians
at least, was the concoction of "medicine," or mystery in which my
master and myself were supposed to be all potent The red men are slaves
to superstition, and in order to gain control over them it is absolutely
necessary to profess a thorough intimacy with everything that is
mysterious and supernatural. They believe in the power of talismans; and
no Indian brave would for a moment suppose that his safety in this
world, or happiness in the next, could be secured, did he not possess,
and constantly keep about him his "mystery bag." A description of this
article, and the manner in which it is made may not prove uninteresting.
When a youth has arrived at the age of sixteen it becomes necessary for
him to "make his medicine;" to this end he leaves his father's lodge,
and absents himself for one or two days and nights; entering the woods,
where he may be secure from interruption, he seeks some quiet nook, and
stretching his length upon the ground, remains in that position until he
dreams of his medicine. During this time he abstains from food and
water. When in his dreams the bird, reptile, or animal, that is to act
as his guardian angel through life appears to him; or rather he imagines
it does. As soon as he has learned what to seek for, he retraces his
steps and joins his family again, who receive him with demonstrations of
great joy; a feast is made in his honor, and he is treated with marked
consideration. The festivities having come to an end, he arms himself
with bow and arrows, or takes his traps, whichever may be best adapted
to secure the animal he seeks, and leaving the village once more goes
in pursuit of his quarry, not returning until his hunt has been crowned
with success. Great care is to be observed in securing the "medicine"
intact. The skin is then stuffed with wool or moss, and religiously
sealed; the exterior is ornamented as the fancy of the owner may
dictate; the decoration in most instances being of a very elaborate
character.
The bag is usually attached to the person, but is sometimes carried in
the hand. Feasts are made, and even dogs and horses sacrificed to a
man's medicine, while days of fasting and penance are suffered to
appease his medicine, when he fancies he has in some way offended it.
The Indian will not sell this charm for any price; indeed, to part with
it is considered a disgrace. In battle, he looks to it for protection
from death, and if perchance he is killed, it will conduct him safely to
the happy hunting grounds, which he contemplates as his inheritance in
the world to come. If he should lose it in the fight, let him battle
never so bravely for his country, he suffers overwhelming disgrace, and
is pointed at by the tribe as "a man without medicine," and remains a
pariah among his people until the sacred mystery bag is replaced. This
can only be done by rushing into battle, and wresting one from the
enemy, whom he slays with his own hand. Once this is accomplished, lost
caste is regained, and he is reinstated in the tribe, occupying a
position even higher than before he lost the charm. Medicine thus
acquired at the risk of life and limb is considered the best, and
entitles the wearer to many privileges to which he could never have
aspired before. When a brave has captured a mystery bag belonging to his
opponent, he has performed a feat of great valor, far surpassing the
glory of innumerable scalps.
It is somewhat singular that a man can institute his medicine but once
in a lifetime; and equally curious that he can reinstate himself by the
adoption of medicine captured from the enemy. In these regulations are
concealed strong inducements to fight: first, to protect himself and his
medicine; and again, if the warrior has been unfortunate enough to lose
the charm, that he may restore it and his reputation, while in combat
with the foes of his community.
I had been for a long time in the village before I was allowed to wander
beyond its limits. Indeed, I was kept so constantly employed that I had
no opportunity to explore the valley, even if I had been permitted to do
so. But the efforts I made to please my Indian master were not without
their effect. WAKOMETKLA soon began to place confidence in me,
and allow me more freedom of action. I had, it is true, very little
spare time, but occasionally my master would dispense with my services
while he was occupied with the ceremonies of the temple, and at such
times I found myself free to wander where I pleased.
In this way, at odd times, I made myself familiar with the topography of
the entire valley. At first I was not without hope, in my solitary
rambles, that I might devise some plan of escape; for I had not by any
means abandoned all hope of that nature, or resigned myself placidly to
my fate. But I was not long in discovering that without a good horse, a
supply of provisions, and some weapons of offense or defense, any such
idea was entirely futile. The valley was of itself a prison, for it had
neither entrance nor exit, except at its two extremities. The one by
which I had entered I have already described in a previous chapter, and
will not weary the reader by repeating it.
The pass at the western end of the valley was simply a narrow canyon cut
through the mountain, during centuries perhaps, by the action of water;
its precipitous walls rose to the height of over two thousand feet, and
in its gloomy recesses it was always twilight; its length was nearly a
mile; and at its outer extremity it debouched upon a barren plain. At
each end a guard of two men was constantly posted, relieving each other
at regular intervals, and being changed every third day. To pass these
vigilant sentinels, afoot and unarmed, was plainly impossible; and I
soon banished the idea from my mind.
I had noticed that WAKOMETKLA sometimes left the village and
was absent for two or three days, returning laden with various herbs and
plant, freshly gathered. I concluded from this that they were of species
which did not grow in the valley, and to procure which he was obliged to
ascend the various mountain ranges that barred my vision in every
direction. I was anxious to accompany him on some one of these
expeditions, thinking that I might thereby gain an opportunity for
flight; but many long and weary months were to pass before I was to be
granted that privilege. My life at this time was monotonous in the
extreme; and so severe was the labor required of me, that I was
frequently too tired even to think.
In his trips to the borders of the valley in search of the materials for
his medicines, WAKOMETKLA often took me with him, and by these
means I gradually became familiar with many of the ingredients used. It
was a source of never-ending wonder to me that this untutored savage
should have been able to discover and prepare so wonderful a remedy as I
found it to be. I had many opportunities of observing its effects upon
the Indians; for the Camanches, although naturally a hardy race, partly
from their mode of life, and partly from the fact that few of them are
of pure Indian blood, are subject to very many of the same ailments that
afflict more civilized communities.
As the assistant of the great medicine man, I found myself treated with
far more consideration than I would have supposed possible, and, in
fact, it appeared after a time, as if the Indians considered me one of
themselves. This state of affairs was not without its advantages. It
ensured my freedom from molestation and at the same time gave me
complete facilities for becoming familiar with the Indian character,
their manners and customs, and mode of life. Of these I shall treat at
length in another chapter.
At the time I was occupied in making the observations and investigations
which I shall lay before the reader, I had no expectation of ever
placing a record of my experiences before the public. Hence in many
things my knowledge of the subject is but superficial. Of those things
which interested me, or from their strange nature made a deep impression
upon my mind, my recollection is clear and vivid. But many details which
might be of interest to those who have never seen, or been among the
prairie Indians, have by the lapse of time and the many exciting scenes
through which I have passed become in a measure effaced from my mind.
But I shall endeavor to relate as fully as possible my checkered
experiences; and this narrative, whatever its demerits, will have at
least one attribute of excellence, it will adhere strictly to facts.