Chapter 5

When they visited a patient, they first inspected him for a considerable time, after which they breathed upon him. If this produced nothing, "of certainty," said they, "the devil is in him; he must, however, very soon go out of him; but let every one be upon his guard, as this wicked spirit will, if he can, out of spite, attack some here present." They then fell into a kind of rage, were shaken with agony, shouted aloud, and threatened the pretended demon; they spoke to him, as if they had seen him with their eyes, made several passes at him, as if they would stab him, the whole being only intended to conceal their imposture.

On entering the cabin, they take care to fix into the ground a bit of wood, to which a cord is made fast. They afterwards present the end of the cord to the spectators, inviting them at the same time to draw out the bit of wood, and as scarce any one ever succeeds in it, they are sure to tell him it is the devil who holds it; afterwards making as if they would stab this pretended devil, they loosen, by little and little, the piece of wood, by raking up the earth round it, after which they easily draw it up, the crowd shouting the while. To the under part of this piece of wood was fastened a little bone, or some such thing, which was not at first perceived, and the quacks, shewing it to the company, "Behold," cried they, "the cause of the disease; it was necessary to kill the devil to get at it."

This farce lasted three or four hours, after which the physician stood in need of rest and refreshment. He went away, assuring them that the sick person would infallibly be cured, provided the disease had not already got the better, that is to say, provided the devil, before his retreat, had not given him his death-wound. The business was to know, whether he had or not. This the autmoin pretended to discover by his dreams, but he took care never to speak clearly, till he saw what turn the disease took. On perceiving it incurable, he went away; every one likewise, after his example, abandoned the patient. If, after three days were expired, he were still alive, "The devil," said he, "will neither allow him to be cured, nor suffer him to die; you must, out of charity, put an end to his days." Immediately the greatest friend of the patient brought cold water, and poured it on his face till he expired.

In a note, vol. i., pages 141, 142, there is an account of the ceremonies practised by the Delaware jugglers.

(6) _Spirits of beasts._--p. 66.

Every species has its presiding genius, and to these the Indians frequently address their prayers. Some of them are held in great estimation, some are little valued. The genius of the beavers is much respected. They were formerly of opinion that beavers were endued with reason, and had a government, laws, and language, of their own; that they had officers who assigned to each his task, and placed sentries to give the alarm at the approach of an enemy, and to punish the lazy. A volume would scarcely afford sufficient space to relate their traditions about this animal.

The bear is also a venerated animal--it is not, however, deemed so auspicious to dream of the bear as of the beaver. Before setting out upon an expedition in search of him, a fast is necessary in order to induce his guardian genius to discover where the greatest number can be found. They also, at these fasts, invoke the spirits of the bears they have killed in their former huntings. The skins of bears are commonly worn by the jugglers while performing their feats of pretended witchcraft, and their teeth, &c., are held to be powerful amulets or charms.

They endeavour, on all occasions, to propitiate the spirits of the beasts, being persuaded that every species of animals has a genius that watches for their preservation. A Frenchman having one day thrown away a mouse he had just taken, a little girl took it up to eat it; the father of the child, who perceived it, snatched it from her, and fell to caressing the dead animal. The Frenchman asked him the reason of it. "It is," answered he, "in order to appease the guardian spirit of the mice, that they may not torment my child after she has eaten it." After which he restored the animal to the girl, who ate it.

An Indian came to Mackenzie, requesting him to furnish him with a remedy that might be applied to the joints of his legs and thighs, of which he had, in a great measure, lost the use for five winters. This affliction he attributed to his cruelty about that time, when having found a wolf with two whelps, in an old beaver lodge, he set fire to it and consumed them.--_Mackenzie's Journal of a Voyage, &c._ 4to. London, 1801.

THE DAUGHTERS OF THE SUN.

In the southern part of the lands which were once occupied by the Creeks, the Walkullas, and other tribes of Indians, lies the marsh Ouaquaphenogan. On one side of it is the river Flint; on the other, the Oakmulgee. This marsh is of very great extent, so great that it takes several moons to travel around it. In the wet season, and when the great rains of the southern sky are falling upon the earth, the whole surface of this marsh appears a vast lake. It is interspersed here and there with large islands and knolls of rich land, one of which, the largest island, situated in the centre of the lake, the present generation of Creeks represent to be a most blissful spot of earth. They term this little island, also, Ouaquaphenogan, and relate the following tradition of its discovery, which I will repeat to my brother.

Once upon a time, many ages ago, there were four young hunters in the nation of the Creeks, and these four young hunters upon the morning of a beautiful day in summer took their hunting spears, and their bows and arrows, and repaired to the forest. The hunting-ground to which they directed their steps lay upon the skirt of this marsh. It was the dry season of the year, and the surface of the lake was again a bog or morass. The four hunters, finding a narrow and crooked path, leading over the waste from the high grounds above the morass, determined, with a view to ascertain if no kind of game dwelt upon it, to thread this path for a short distance, but by no means to venture so far as to lose sight of the beacons which should guide their feet back to their village. They knew that very many hunters had been lost on this marsh, that there were many who had lived to tell the story of their bewilderment, and many who, never having returned from the chace, could only be supposed to have been tempted to the fatal morass, and perished in its mazes. Thus, armed with the knowledge of what had happened to many, and was supposed to have happened to more, the hunters ventured into the narrow and crooked path, which led to the island Ouaquaphenogan, in the lake of the same name.

The four hunters had not walked far, when one of them said to another, "Where are the hills which glitter in the morning sun, behind the cabins of our fathers?" The other answered, "I see them not, nor do I know which way they should be sought for. Deep fogs obscure the earth, and hide the sun from our eyes; the signs are wanting which should direct our feet in the path of our return; for the moss grows equally on every side of the tree; the waters lie dead, and sleeping, and stagnant, so that no one may gather from their flow a knowledge of his path; it is not the hour of the day for the Hunter's Star to shine upon the eyes of our judgment; no wind stirs to inform us whether it comes from the flowery land of the South, or the cold hills of the North--how then can I assist my bewildered brothers, who am myself bewildered? I see not whence we came, I know not where we are; I only know this--that we have ventured into a narrow and crooked path in the Lake Ouaquaphenogan, and are lost, as many of our nation have been before, in the intricate mazes into which it is death to venture." So concluded the young hunter.

The four bewildered hunters still continued their endeavours to retrace their path, but without success. Still more dark and dismal grew those mazes--more wet and miry the morass. Night came, but it brought no stars to enable them to find their road back to their dwellings, nor south nor north winds were abroad to direct their steps--the waters were still stagnant, and still did moss grow upon every side of the tree. No bird flew by, to direct by the course of his flight to his roosting-place, or to the nest of his beloved, on the dry hills beyond the waste--no plaint of animals, which love not the water or damp grounds, was heard in the distance. They knew no better than a child of the last moon the path which should lead them back to safety.

While they were wandering about in the mazes of the swamp, one said to another, "I hear the sound of voices." Listening, they were soon able to distinguish the sounds of music and merriment proceeding from a glade at a short distance, in the direction of the little path upon which they were entering. Pursuing that path, they soon came to a little knoll of high and rich land. Nothing could be more beautiful than the appearance of this little spot. Here and there were clumps of trees, covered with fruit in every stage of its growth, and blossoms scenting the air with their fragrance. The earth was covered with a robe of flowers; birds were singing on the boughs, and hopping about on the twigs, filling the air with sweet melody, and little rills were rattling away over the gentle slopes. Upon one side of the knoll lay a clear lake, in which swans, white as the lily, were disporting themselves, and the red-headed, and the green-winged duck, and many other beautiful feathered creatures. But the most beautiful objects remain to be painted. These were four tall and slender maidens, beautiful as the flower-clad trees and blossom-crowned hills of their own island, and sweet as the breath of a lemon-tree. Their eyes shone as bright as the beams of the morning sun; bright locks of surpassing beauty clustered around their lovely brows; and their garments were woven of many colours as brilliant as the rainbow. Their bosoms swelled like the heavings of the billows on a little lake, when it is but slightly stirred by the breezes of spring. Their step--what can be compared to it? A bird skimming the fields; a wind slightly stirring the bushes; an antelope bounding over a mountain crag; a deer a little alarmed at the whoop of the hunter. Beautiful creatures! The Great Spirit never formed any thing, not even the trees, nor the flowers of spring, nor the field of ripe grain, nor the sun of whom those four maidens were sisters, so beautiful as they were.

They came--these four beautiful maidens--to the four bewildered travellers, whom they addressed thus, and their voice was sweeter than the music of the song-sparrow--"Who are ye?" The hunters replied that they were men of the Creek-nation who had ventured into the marsh Ouaquaphenogan, and were bewildered in its inextricable mazes. Two days, they said, they had been without food; they were faint and weary, and demanded refreshments, such as they would have given, had a hungry traveller come to their door, and said, "Food I have none, give me or I faint." The beautiful maidens replied, that the men of their nation, having long ages ago been driven with much bloodshed into the inaccessible fastnesses of the island Ouaquaphenogan, in the lake of the same name, by the ancestors of the present generation of Creeks, had retained so deeply in their bosoms the memory of their wrongs, that they were sure to inflict upon them most excruciating tortures, and to make them die a death of fire. Such, they said, would be the fate of the four bewildered hunters, should their fathers or brothers discover them now. They earnestly besought them to fly; but first, with that tender and compassionate nature which belongs to women when they see the other sex in distress, they brought from a little cabin which stood near, covered with beautiful vines in blossom, abundance of provisions, besides oranges, dates, and other fruit, sweet, ripe, and tempting, as their own beautiful selves. These they spread out on the flowery earth, and invited the four hunters to partake. Placed each by the maiden of his choice, they fed upon the repast prepared by the fair hands of the daughters of the sun, the while drinking in the passion of love from their large and lustrous eyes. Nor was the soft language of looks alone the medium of thought; words of the tongue were interchanged as sweet as those of the eyes. Wrought up at length to a phrenzy of passion, and emboldened by the melting glances of the dove-eyed girls, the youthful hunters besought them to bless them with their love--to become the wives of their heart. Faint was the shake of the head, and scarcely heard the breathing of the "No," and cast meekly down upon the blue flowers at their feet the soft and tender eyes, which could not have looked up and kept their secret. At length, one of the maidens, the eldest sister--for they were sisters--began thus:

"Young and amiable strangers, it is proper that we tell you who we are, that you may think whether you will dare the danger, that will attend the union of one of our race with one of yours. We are born of mothers, and are the children of fathers, who are governed by the influences of the sun, even as tides obey the commands of their mistress the moon, and stars perform their round of service in the sky, at the command of the Master of all. Our disposition--the disposition of our race--is as variable as that of the winds upon which our great father acts. Ye behold him fiery at times--even so are we--a change comes over him, his beams grow mild and soft, dispensing genial warmth and gladness; ours, like his, also soften, and, though they cannot possess his power, yet they are fashioned on his pattern, and we in our kind moments bestow all the happiness we can upon those we love. At those moments, were it possible to fill all the earth with love, to make bush, tree, flower, man, beast, bird, utter the language of the soft passion, and hill, dale, mountain, and valley, echo it, we would do it. Again do we change; and he that hath noted the quick obscuring of the sun in the Month of Buds, may estimate the variableness of our temper. Then tears fall from our eyes in torrents, as showers fall from a cloud, and as hastily as a mist is dissipated by a bright morning beam do smiles re-illumine our countenances, and our faces and hearts become filled with gladness. Tempest and fair weather, darkness and sunshine, are in us strangely blended. There is in our nature a strange jarring of the elements of being. Can ye take to your bosoms wives, who will afflict you with mutabilities as great, sudden, various, as those of the elements which surround you? Ye are pleased to think us beautiful, and it may be that we are; but remember that ye see us in one of our pleased, pleasant, and happy, moments. Wait till an accident or misfortune happens, till want or calamity come, or contradiction ensue, or some of the crosses which belong to human life, as clouds and tempests to the constitution of nature, assail us. But, if you think your love could survive the hurricanes which will visit your dwellings when we are stormy; if you can bear to see the lightnings of our eyes flashing wrath upon you, and our voices speaking thunder in your ears--I speak for myself and sisters--take us, and we will assure you of many moments of bright sunshine, many days of peace and happiness--uninterrupted sun, and cloudless skies." The beautiful daughter of the sun, who spoke for herself and her sisters, concluded thus, and the eldest of the four hunters rose, and replied in these words:

"Beautiful maiden, that speakest for thyself and sisters, do not think that what thou hast said will affright us. I speak for myself and brothers--we will take you with all your faults, with the chance of the hurricanes and stormy weather, linked with the hope of the moments of bright sunshine and days of peace and happiness. Believe me, dove-eyed maidens, that the women of the lake Ouaquaphenogan, in the island of the same name, are not alone in their disposition to be stormy at times. It need not be told the men of the Creek nation, that a woman's face, of whatever country, may justly be likened to an April day, alternately shining and showering, and that her soul is like a morning in the Variable Moon, which one moment may be dressed in a thick mantle of clouds, and the next in a glittering robe of solar glory. It need not be told the son of my mother, that a woman's voice is sometimes the voice of a gentle rill, and at others, that of a cloud charged with the poison of the heated and rarefied air. Are not the Creeks men, and shall they be frightened by what is a mere momentary delirium? No. Having looked upon a wintry storm and a summer tempest, and seen the bright stars succeeding one, and the warm and cheering sun the other, we can listen with calmness--even with pleasure--to the tempest of a woman's anger, and survey, without trembling, or hiding, or running away, the lightnings of her wrath, because we know that after a storm comes a calm. We know that the sun shines most gloriously when his beams are first unveiled by the passing away of the clouds which have obscured him; we know that a woman's face is most beautiful, when she has wiped the tears of anger from her cheek, and dressed it in smiles to win back the love which her folly has endangered. We will take you, beautiful creatures, subject to the becoming passions of which you speak, filled with all the beautiful frenzies of woman's temper. We know that all women, whether they dwell among the Creeks, or in the island Ouaquaphenogan, in the lake of the same name, are alike in their dispositions. It hath long been taught, beautiful creatures, in our nation, and among all nations of which we have heard our fathers speak, that men should take them wives, but it is only now that we have recalled the maxim to our minds, it is only now that we acknowledge the wisdom of our teachers. Now, if men chose those only whose tempers never varied, one, two, may be three, among all the sons of men would take wives; if one sought for a maiden with a never clouded brow and soul, it might become the labour of a whole nation to furnish mocassins for the feet of one travelling in quest of the bride. Therefore we take you with all your faults, believing that you have them but in common with all your sex, and with no greater portion than belongs to others. And we bind on your fair brows the flowers which betoken affection and constancy, and we place in your soft and beautiful hands the emblems of the charge we confide to them when we make you the wives of our bosoms."

So these four beautiful daughters of the sun became the affianced brides of the four bewildered Creek hunters.

"But," said the beautiful maidens to their lovers, "we have told you of the ferocity of our fathers and brothers, and of the hatred of our nation towards the descendants of the men who overthrew and massacred our ancestors. We cannot expose you to the danger of their wrath; you must fly, but whithersoever that be, we will fly with you." So the four beautiful daughters of the sun left for ever the island Ouaquaphenogan, and the lake of the same name, and became the wives and mothers of hunters and warriors. They were at times very stormy in their tempers, but upon the whole not worse than other women. Their faces were at times those of April days, alternately shining and showery, but there were women in our nation, who were not at all akin to the sun, nor ever saw Ouaquaphenogan, that were as like them as if they had been sisters. Their eyes did, indeed, sometimes send out volleys of lightnings, and their tongues give forth heavy thunders, but neither were louder nor sharper than those of the women, who had for ages given the beam of the one and the music of the other to the men of the Creeks. And, if they did at times term their husbands "brutes," it was no more than other husbands had been called before. And if they did, in the moment of a hurricane, drive their husbands from their fire-sides, they were by no means the first who had done so. Upon the whole, the four hunters had no particular reason to regret their bewilderment in the marsh Ouaquaphenogan.

THE MAIDEN AND THE BIRD.

It cannot be new to my pale-faced brother, for he has been told it often enough, that, besides the Great Master of Life, the red men of the forest worship a great multitude of spirits with whom they believe every part of the world to be peopled. According to our belief, a Manitou dwells upon every hill, and in every valley; in every open glade and dark morass; in the chambers of every cavern, and the heart of every rock; in every fountain, and watery depth, and running stream. These spirits dislike white men very much, because they are always intruding upon their quiet, robbing both hill and valley of their stately trees, breaking up the bosom of the earth, penetrating into every dark morass and cavern, and polluting, by some means or other, every fountain, and watery depth, and running stream. Indians do not wish to provoke them, and so try to propitiate them by innocent and unbloody offerings. We spread on the mountain tops, or hang on the cliffs, or lay on the shelves of the caves, or drop into the waters, wreaths of flowers, belts of wampum, clusters of the wild grape, shining ears of maize, and other gifts which attach them to us. When an Indian child is born, whether it is a man-child or woman-child, a spirit is immediately chosen to protect it, and its future life is expected to be prosperous or not as the guardian spirit is powerful and well-disposed to his charge, or weak, and undertakes his task of protection with reluctance.

The Little White Bear of the Iroquois was reposing by night in his cabin, on the banks of his own pleasant river, in the month of ripe berries, when he beheld, by the light of the moon, a forest-chief in all his pride enter the lodge. The step of the stranger was noiseless as the fall of snow, and of word or sound uttered he none. The chief of the Tuscaroras arose, and took down his sinewy bow, and drew from his quiver a sharp and barbed arrow--the figure faded away like a morning mist before the beams of the sun, and was gone from his eyes. Tetontuaga woke his comrades, who lay scattered about in careless slumber--nothing had they seen, heard, or dreamed of. He lay down again, and, drawing his buffalo cloak closely around him, tried to close his eyes and ears, in oblivion of things, and to rein his fancy to look upon other shapes than those of air.