Very few instances have been known where an Indian has voluntarily parted with his medicine bag, and in such cases scarcely any display of valor will reinstate him in the opinion of his tribe. Sometimes he can be induced by the solicitation of white men to bury it, but he treats the grave as if it were that of a revered relation, hovering about it as much as possible, lying over the sacred spot, and talking to the bag as if it were alive. Sometimes he offers sacrifices to it; and, if he be a wealthy man, he will offer a horse.
Such a sacrifice as this takes rank as a public ceremony. A long procession goes to the prairie, the lead being taken by the owner of the medicine bag, driving before him the horse, which must always be the best he possesses. The animal is curiously painted and branded, and is held by a long lasso. When the procession arrives at the appointed spot, the sacrificer makes a long prayer to the Great Spirit, and then slips the lasso from the animal, which from that time takes its place among the wild horses of the prairie, and if at any time caught by the lasso, is at once recognized by the brand, and set free again. Such a sacrifice as this is appreciated very highly by the tribe, and gives the man the privilege of recording the circumstance on his mantle and tent. One Mandan chief sacrificed in this way no less than seventeen horses.
In connection with the medicine bag may be mentioned the “totem,” or mark by which each family is known. This is mostly an animal, such as a wolf, a bear, a dog, a tortoise, &c. If a chief wishes to show that he and his party have passed a given spot, he strikes with his axe a chip off a tree and draws on the white surface his totem. Or, if he sends an order to a distance, he draws his totem on a piece of bark, and gives it to his messenger as a token.
To return to the medicine man. He is best seen to advantage when exercising his art upon a sick person. He wears for this purpose one of the most extraordinary dresses which the mind of man ever conceived. No two medicine men wear a similar costume, but in all it is absolutely essential that every article shall be abnormal. Mr. Catlin saw one of these men called in to practise on a Blackfoot Indian, who had been shot through the body with two bullets. There was not the least chance of his recovery, but still the medicine man must be summoned. His strange, grotesque appearance, and the wild ceremony over the sick man are vividly [represented] on page 1311.
A ring was formed round the dying man, and a lane was preserved through them, by which the mystery man would make his appearance. In a few minutes a general hush-h-h ran through the assembly as the tinkling and rattling of his ornaments heralded the approach of the wise man. As he entered the ring, nothing could surpass the wild grotesqueness of his costume. By way of a coat, he wore the skin of a yellow bear—an article exceedingly rare in North America, and therefore in itself a powerful medicine. The skin of the head was formed into a mask, which entirely hid the features of the enchanter. The skins of various animals dangled from his dress, and in one hand he held his magic wand, and in the other the mystery drum, which contained the arcana of his order.
His actions were worthy of his appearance. He came in with a series of wild jumps and yells, accompanied with the rattling and beating of his magic drum as he approached the dying man. Having reached his patient, he began to dance round him to the accompaniment of his drum, to leap over him, to roll him from side to side, and in every imaginable way to render his last hours unendurable. In fact, the man might well die, if only to be rid of his physician. In a short time he did die; but the man, not in the least disconcerted at the failure of his efforts, danced out of the circle as he had entered it, and went off to his lodge to take off and pack up his official dress.
A somewhat similar scene was witnessed by Mr. P. Kane, in which the mode of manipulation was almost identical, though the medicine man, instead of disguising himself in a strange dress, went just to the opposite extreme. The story is narrated in Mr. Kane’s “Wanderings of an Artist,” being as follows:—
“About ten o’clock at night I strolled into the village, and on hearing a great noise in one of the lodges, I entered it, and found an old woman supporting one of the handsomest Indian girls I had ever seen. She was in a state of nudity. Cross-legged and naked, in the middle of the room, sat the medicine man, with a wooden dish of water before him; twelve or fifteen other men were sitting round the lodge. The object in view was to cure the girl of a disease affecting her side. As soon as my presence was noticed, a space was cleared for me to sit down.
“The officiating medicine man appeared in a state of profuse perspiration, from the exertions he had used, and soon took his seat among the rest, as if quite exhausted; a younger medicine man then took his place in front of the bowl, and close beside the patient. Throwing off his blanket, he commenced singing and gesticulating in the most violent manner, whilst the others kept time by beating with little sticks on hollow wooden bowls and drums, singing continually. After exercising himself in this manner for about half an hour, until the perspiration ran down his body, he darted suddenly upon the young woman, catching hold of her side with his teeth, and shaking her for a few minutes, while the patient seemed to suffer great agony. He then relinquished his hold, and cried out he had got it, at the same time holding his hands to his mouth; after which he plunged them in the water, and pretended to hold down with great difficulty the disease which he had extracted, lest it might spring out and return to its victim.
“At length, having obtained the mastery over it, he turned round to me in an exulting manner, and held something up between the finger and thumb of each hand, which had the appearance of a piece of cartilage; whereupon one of the Indians sharpened his knife, and divided it in two, leaving one in each hand. One of the pieces he threw into the water and the other into the fire, accompanying the action with a diabolical noise, which none but a medicine man can make. After which he got up perfectly satisfied with himself, although the poor patient seemed to me anything but relieved by the violent treatment she had undergone.”