[Representation of the Soul]
They represent the soul as being small, not very dissimilar in size and shape from the yolk of a large hen or duck egg. Some of them [are] very hard, and much of the nature and substance of a stone, but still not of that substance. And others again [are] much more soft and tender. Some are easily kept and bruised, but others are with difficulty taken and continually in motion. But all are extremely impatient of restraint and cannot bear it. Confinement is death to the body from which it has issued!
Some conjurers possessing sufficient power and influence take a soul if they want to destroy the body, (in the conjuring box or tent), and wrapping it in a piece of leather, rub and bruise it between both hands 'til they destroy its subtility or subtilty. As soon as it comes within view of the conjuring tent, its agonies are terrible, as also those of the body, however distant that may be. But as soon as its motion is destroyed, the body dies likewise.
[Imprisonment of a Soul]
Others again take it and put it in a japannd tobacco box and tie the lid or cover securely with a woman's garter from whence, if not loosened by someone, it can never escape. Any other lashing is not anything near so completely effectual as this. Reflect and you will guess immediately the reasons they give. As I do not know Latin and you don't understand Indian, I must suppress this and many other things. Others again take a different method thus. But by-the-bye, this has but very little relation to the soul. I shall therefore refer it until afterwards and give you another story as received from a Canadian, an eye witness.
He was passing the winter with the Indians, and one night the head man of the tent he lodged in gave a feast. He was in the habit of doing it and was himself apparently a good and peaceable man, but not to be trifled with by other Indians. Everything being prepared, the guests were just going to eat when the feast-man's mother dropped suddenly as if dead. Everyone was struck with consternation. They had recourse to their medicines, songs, rattlers as usual. At last he fell to sucking his mother in one of her temples. Suddenly they heard something crack. The Indian drew back, his mother arose perfectly recovered and all became well. However, that which occasioned the crack, the Indian took out of his mouth, wrapped carefully up and gave it to his wife to put in a tobacco box, which she did. It had all the appearance of a bean (une fève). The wife wanted to tie the lid, but the husband said there was no necessity. They resumed their meal.
But the old woman was not long in possession of her senses. She very soon relapsed, and as instantaneously as at the first. "Ho!" exclaimed the Indian, "The Dog is off." They looked into the tobacco box but nothing was found. They continued conjuring three nights and the last [night] especially. The man told me he thought the devil was amongst them from a certain kind of undescribable noise in the air round about their tent and the sudden flashings of light. This was powder (gun powder). They had carefully thrown out all the fire, thrown a great quantity of snow and water on the hearth, and then put fresh earth upon it. It was perfectly dark in the lodge, there being no other light than what is usually emitted from the heavens. Upon this hearth of fresh earth they would throw some powder and then retiring to the bottom of the tent would say, "Come! Let me see if I be a manito?" then singing. Off the powder would fly!
They continued this way three nights, but all to no purpose. The old woman yet lived two years but never spoke.
He said (the Indian) that this bean "... was the soul or spirit of another Indian, then at a vast distance, which he darted at my mother to render her pitiful and miserable. But I shall make the dog suffer."
However, after this, the Canadian enquired why he did not revenge himself and kill him.