When we returned to the abode of the chief we found it crowded. Groups were squatting in every direction, wrapped in their robes, indulging in a low, muttered conversation. This was occasionally broken by a deep, emphatic exclamation, which always bursts with a convulsive sound from the chest of an Indian, when engaged in a debate of some interest. But upon our return the conversation gradually flagged, and their sole occupation was to sit, with their eyes fastened upon us, as we were collected round the fire.
CHAPTER VIII.
The Doctor’s Adventure.—Indian Dirge.
When we had at first collected together in the chief lodge, we found that one of the party, Dr. M——, was not present. There were many conjectures as to his absence, but after a while he made his appearance. He was considerably out of breath, and related to us an adventure which he had just met with, or rather which he had forced himself into. He had remained in the lodge after we left it, to attend at our last feast. Having nothing in particular to employ him, he slapped his white beaver, which turned up all around, upon the top of his head, girded his deer-skin hunting shirt closely around him, and thrusting his hand into his breeches-pocket, set out upon a voyage of discovery. He had not travelled far before his attention was attracted by a low chanting song, proceeding from one of the lodges which stood a little apart from the others, and near the edge of the bluff, overlooking the river.
Without a moment’s hesitation, he walked towards it, entered the low, funnel shaped mouth, and peeped over the bear-skin which hung before the inner entrance, opening immediately into the lodge.
A large fire was burning cheerfully in the centre. Over it hung a kettle which was kept constantly stirred by an old Indian, dressed in a buffalo robe, whitened with chalk, and ornamented with hieroglyphic symbols. As he stirred he hummed a low chant, occasionally raising his voice until he caused it to sound loudly through the whole building, and then again sinking it, until it reached the ear of the listener, in low and almost inaudible murmurs. There was something wild, and rather forbidding in the features of this individual.
A few steps from the fire, lay two forms, completely covered by a heavy buffalo robe; and bending over these stood another Indian, dressed similar to the first. He too, was humming a low song, at intervals dancing to a slow measure round the robe.
The doctor suspected that these were Medecin-Men,[G] and that they were performing some of the miraculous cures, which they boast of in the village, and which give them a reputation for superior sanctity among the credulous Indians, who believe them to hold communion with the Great Spirit. Their ability to perform these cures, arises frequently, from their superior knowledge, of the hidden medicinal virtues of different herbs. By jumbling with their healing art, an unintelligible species of mystic mummery, and by pretending to hold a direct intercourse with the Deity, the cure of their patients is attributed more to his immediate interference, than to any virtue of the medicines which they have received.
[G] Every tribe of Indians has its Medecin-Men. They are a kind of priest or prophet. Their influence, however, is very variable, and depends upon the popularity which they may have acquired with the nation. As long as they confine their prophecies to those events, which they know will be agreeable, so long are they regarded with high veneration; but as soon as they commence predictions of evil—or attempt to reveal unpalatable truths, their influence wanes, themselves are shunned, and their predictions scorned.